#brief mention of the Kenobi show

[astheforcewillsit]

(anyway wrote my post-war codywan fic where gets to find himself and be debrainwashed while coming to terms with the role Obi-Wan/Jedi-Order played in the enslavement of his brothers with a happy ending)

Working Pains Summary: It has been two years since the Clone Wars ended. Two years since Cody has had a proper conversation with his General. But in between extensive therapy, deconditioning, and learning to be an actual person, Cody doesn't know where Obi-Wan Kenobi fits in that.

(Un)fortunately, when a Jedi led peace treaty with former Separatist territories fails spectacularly, Cody gets the opportunity to close up loose ends.

or

Obi-Wan almost dies, and predictably Cody finds himself by his side.

----

Fox is waiting for him when he gets to the hospital. And Force is the place a mess. 

To put it mildly, the hospital waiting room is a complete shit show. To put it accurately, Cody hasn’t seen chaos like this since he was in a medical wing during the clone wars.  Behind the reception, doctors run like fire licks their feet through the halls, rubber soles squeaking against polished floors.  Nurses call out orders like commanders on the battlefield, shouts slicing through the disorder in the waiting room. Droids console families who sit helplessly to hear the news of their loved ones. 

(Cody fights the innate urge to help. But he’s not that man anymore.)

The Clone Wars may be over, but Cody hasn't moved on enough to let droids hold his hand while he cries. Not just any droid, after least.

Instead Fox sits beside him, briefing–telling him what news he's heard.

A surprise attack in hyperspace. Over a thousand dead, more injured. A Jedi led peace attempt in former Separatist territory that turned bad real quick. Tale as Old as fucking Time, and if Cody’s heart wasn't beating in his throat, he would have chuckled.

And the icing on the cake–the failure was led by none other than Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

(He remembers where he was and who was with when Fox had commed him just that name three hours ago. Laying in bed against Rex as they watched a holo about loth cats, Boil asleep on the opposite chair. Jesse the most awake of them all, texting back and forth with someone on his datapad. 

He remembers how the mention of his former General had been enough to take him from the Company of his brothers, brothers who had held his hand through hours of therapy, through the realization that he had been brainwashed and used. 

That he had fought for a Republic who used him and abused him, and that the Jedi had led them still. That Obi-Wan had done little to save him.  They had been there as he came to that ugly, painful revelation. They had been there with him as he put space between himself and the Master. 

And yet, the last he saw of them was the disappointment when he threw caution to the wind to come to said Jedi’s side. Force, he hoped they didn’t hate him after this.)

Who is supposedly amongst the injured. 

This is supposedly one of the better hospitals, though. In a higher, more affluent level of Coruscant. Fox has assured him of this.  Still it begs the question-

“Why not the temple? Wouldn’t they know how to help him?” It’s been an hour and Cody is tired of sitting. 

He stands, arms crossed as he begins to pace.  Across the room a woman screams, her shrills erupting into inconsolable sobs. Both Fox and Cody wince. It hurts them all particularly more than a human woman would. Kel Dor have a knack for doing that. 

 Clearly the medical droid is not doing its job. 

“Overwhelmed,” Fox supplies, chipped, “Kenobi was awake enough to request that the more injured be taken to the Temple–Jedi and non-Jedi alike. The Temple obliged”.

Cody wants to scream. It was clearly a ruse.  The man was certainly the most injured of them all. How could they not see it? Two years apart from Obi-Wan and Cody could pick out his General’s tricks blindfolded. Did they know how many times he insisted his men be treated before him? How many times he’d lie to the 212th medics about his injuries just so the clones were being treated first?

Obi-Wan would give his blood to an orphanage if he was bleeding out. 

“He'll be okay, Cody.” Fox is meticulously calm, as if sensing Cody’s distress.  It's been practiced. Fox two years ago would have lost his absolute shit. Quinlan Vos was on the mission too. 

“If I were with him, he'd…” he breathes in deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. Old habits die hard. Conditioning even harder. 

He is not the Jedi’s or the Republic. He made that clear when he left GAR. When he distanced himself Obi-Wan. 

That chapter has been long closed. And therapy made him realize just how fucked up his head was. Marshall Commander Cody, the most fucked up of them all. The most loyal.

Finding himself after that involved time with his brothers. And consequently, his relationship with Obi-Wan had suffered. 

And Obi-Wan had been very sparse in reaching out to his men after. At least Cody. He'd put up his walls, fallen into the mold of the perfect “Jedi Master”, lack of attachments and all.

(If the clones felt the Jedi used them, maybe the Jedi felt the clones tainted them. Weapons that drew them to the Dark Side. Maybe the feelings was mutual. Or maybe that’s how Kenobi was before the war). 

“The desk is clear,” Fox indicates to the clerk, who runs a hand through her tight curls, “Let’s go.” 

Cody wastes no time in crossing the distance between the vast space of the desk and the clerk.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,”  he manages before she can even collect herself, “we’re here for him. He’s the General–The Master–” 

“The Jedi? Yes, he's recently gotten out of surgery. No visitors yet, name?”

At a time, he had been on Obi-Wan’s list of emergency contacts. Especially as the war waned. He hopes their time apart hasn't ruined that. If so, he has Fox. And all his ties to the government. 

“Cody, CC-2224” he provides, urgently, “I'm–was his Commander–during the–” The underpaid clerk raises her hand, and directs them behind the rooms. 

“You're on the list. I think we called you like five times, but you didn't answer."  He swallows thickly. He had seen the number on his comm. He had an inkling about who it was for. But he just didn't pick up. He couldn't bring himself to. And then Fox called. 

"Here's the room number.” She gives a breakdown of the directions and the maps that makeup the hospital. Visiting hours are defined, but Cody thinks that with the chaos, they’ll be extended.  She ushers another family to the desk as she finishes with him. 

Fox is able to walk him through the hospital layout sans the map. His time in the Corries saw him through these walls one too many times, as both an escort and patient. 

Cody doesn’t think he could focus on the map if he tries. His hands are shaking, his breathing is uncharacteristically unsteady. Shaking like he’s stepping back onto the battlefield for the first time. 

– 

There’s less chaos on Obi-Wan’s floor. But still, it has been touched by the disarray from the waiting room. His room isn’t even private, most likely due to the lack of beds.  And as far as Cody can tell, there’s at least one other patient in there, separated by a curtain. 

Within the first few seconds of finding the room, Cody looks everywhere but where he should. He takes note of the window. The curtains are open, and the vibrant lights of Coruscant’s nightlife infiltrate the hospital room. He pays attention to the ambiance, the cycling of the machines, the steady rise and fall of his chest,  a forced atmosphere of peace clashing against this war that still drags the Jedi into it. 

Against whatever the hell is going on in Cody’s heart. 

Fox says something behind him, gently coaxing him into the room. Automatically the soft lights illuminate the space. Cody had hoped they wouldn’t do that. It was easy to make out the outline of Obi-Wan’s body in the dark, helped by the lights from the window.

Now he has to look at him. 

He remembers the last conversions had with Obi-Wan. Bits and pieces, his mind clinging onto them like oxygen. Stretching them out until this very moment. 

“I’m sorry, Gen—Obi-Wan I haven’t been in touch, things have just been happening.”

How does one explain that ‘things’ are extensive therapy, working through years of brainwashing and mind control? Realizing that the man you loved the most  and his entire Order sat near the pinnacle of that. 

“I understand. These things take time. Please Cody, let me know if you need anything.”

Though despite the anxiety, despite the confusion. He still loves this man, he still wants him safe. And he knows danger follows Obi-Wan Kenobi wherever he goes. 

“Be safe, General.”“It’s just Obi-Wan, Cody. I am not, and never should your General. And if that’s too familiar, Master Kenobi will suffice for me.” 

How long was that? 6 months ago? 12 months ago? Two years ago? What had he lost in the time he tried to reclaim himself? Tried to find himself.

Who had he cut loose when he shed the skin of Commander Cody of the 212? 

Obi-wan had answered then with some sort of sad resignation that Cody couldn’t pinpoint. Like they wouldn’t see each other again. He wonders now if Obi-Wan had sensed his inner turmoil. Kriff, of course he did. He was a Jedi. 

That’s why he never reached out. Why he stopped when Cody stopped.

Suddenly  he’s crying like a child when this starts to hit him. 

The confusion of it all. The suddenness. He could have lost Obi-Wan, and he doesn’t know if that would make him feel better. It might make him feel worse. 

Sobs and sobs rock his body.  He didn't feel sad when he came in. He was anxious, yes. But sad? No, not at all. He hoped they could talk.

He acknowledges that this is a lot from him too. He hasn’t been on a battlefield for two years. He hasn’t seen an injured man like this since the clone wars ended. 

Fox leads him to a comfortable chair, and places a gentle hand on his back. He’s glad he doesn’t ask questions. Fox isn’t like the others who lose their mind at the sound of Cody crying. He’s the eldest, supposed to keep them together. But Fox lets him be the baby. 

As he revels in Fox’s comfort, he’s shocked to realize the absence of company. 

It occurs to him then that Obi-Wan doesn’t really have many people to visit him. His relationship with Anakin Skywalker was infamously laughable. Ahsoka Tano had remained a distance from the Temple even after everything. The Council was spread across the galaxy, keeping peace without an army. 

The Order was busy. Fighting wars the Jedi should have left ages ago. Cody thinks sadly to himself that they should have taken their Jedi with them. They could have sorted out the logistics later on.  

Oh Force, he thinks, did I…did I leave him alone? Mustering all the strength in the world, he forces himself to look at Obi-Wan. 

 He doesn’t like what he sees. 

Obi-wan looks pale. Almost as pale as a Kaminoan. According to the briefing from Fox, it wasn’t the burns that landed him on a stretcher. Though his body is covered in enough bacta to challenge that.  It was the smoke inhalation and the blunt force trauma to his head apparently. 

Cody remembers their many conversations with Obi-Wan about complex relationship with armor, and his fear when his General had stopped using it. The boys of the 212 had made bets about when Obi-Wan would end up in a body cast. 

And while he’s in no body cast now, It looks like life has finally collected that toll.  

Cody is almost terrified by how well he’s able to fall into the role of a vigilant commander. After the tears have dried, and the fog has cleared, he pulls the chair closer to the bed and breathes. 

—

Fox disappears when the sun rises, excuses himself behind the curtain. He tells Cody that despite the curtain being closed, there's no one behind it and that he needs some space to work.  Cody assumes he's left to do some Senate work on his datapad, or whatever Fox does to keep himself busy nowadays. He leaves with a gentle press against Cody's forehead, promising him he'll return.

At some point the doctor comes in to check Obi-Wan's vitals, and explains to Cody what procedures were done. He lets him know the Jedi will be there to collect their councilmen within the next few hours where he will likely undergo extensive Force healing for the mental strain he apparently suffered. 

He shoots a quick message to Rex, who he left alone when Fox came to collect him. He thinks Rex may understand what he’s going through, though he’ll never say it aloud. They all know that Rex spends enough time loitering around the secured cells in the upper levels Coruscant to visit his old General. 

(Rex doesn’t know Cody knows this though. That just like everyone who’s had the displeasure of meeting Anakin Skywalker, they still see some good in him.)

He groans after Rex shoots back a thousand question marks, even tries to comm him. He rushes to silence his comm, not wanting to wake the patient whose eyes have already started fluttering behind closed lids. 

Its a futile attempt, because before he knows it,  the bed’s  occupant is stirring faster than he would have liked him to. 

“Cody?” 

It’s been two years, and yet a  million years would not have prepared him for their eventual meeting. 

What does one say? 

“Sorry Sir–Obi-Wan, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He settles for an apology. Force, they could have been in their tents again. Commander and General.  It’s so natural to fall back into old habits. Comforting and terrifying all at once. 

For his part, Obi-Wan pushes himself up with his elbows, rising slightly so he can look Cody in the eyes. His blue eyes are wide, confusion radiating throughout his expression.  And then, his gaze softens, and his brows furrow in guilt. 

“Oh you’re not supposed to be here.” He says the first part gently, more to himself than to Cody, “ I apologize, I meant to remove you from my emergency contacts.” For some reason, that hurts. Cody swallows, feeling a familiar thickness in his throat. 

“Life  must be getting difficult for you, Master Kenobi, if you’re starting to fall behind on administrative tasks. You used to be on-top of that during the war.” He returns the comment with a formality of his own, though he means for it to soften the blow as well. If this is hard for him, it must be hard for Obi-Wan too. 

In response the Jedi chuckles, coughing as he does so. Cody fights the urge to lean over and caress him. You are not his Commander, anymore. You are not his. He is not yours. 

“Well, the adjustment from General to Jedi Master has had its ups and downs. Sometimes the details get lost in the translation,” he offers with a smile, his blue eyes scanning the clone. Cody can feel the full extent of the Force upon him, probing him unprompted. He’d learned early on in his service that this was normal for the Jedi. Just as easily as they used their eyes to see, and their voices to speak, they used the Force to scan everything and everyone. 

It is their way of communication. 

Cody may have put up some boundaries when he left the army, but this is not one of them. He lets Obi-wan in easily. The Jedi feels him out, his Force touch light and airy. Ticklish almost. “You really don’t have to be here Cody.” Obi-Wan says, more seriously now, letting his body fall back onto the bed, “ You can go, I will be alright. I’ll have your contact information removed after this.” 

The warmth of his touch is gone. It sends Cody into a momentary spiral. He didn’t expect this coldness, this lack of familiarity. The sudden end to their very impromptu beginning. There is so much he still wants to do. To say. 

He can’t stop the words that escape his lips next. 

“That no-attachment clause sure has come in handy now, hasn’t it.”

It’s a vile kick in the gut, to throw something as sacred as the Code in the Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan jerks himself up, eyes wide. His machine beeps loudly. He looks dumbstruck, as if Cody has just slapped him across the face. Hard.

Cody knows in that moment his General recalls the late evenings they sat alone together, talking for hours about the Force, about the Order. About what it meant to Obi-Wan, about how the galaxy wide bastardization of his Order, his family, had hurt him more than he let off.

How the Force--The Order--had been there for Obi-Wan at his lowest. That this "emotionless order of monks" had saved him from himself time and time again. 

How many times had Obi-Wan dragged a broken, shell shocked  Cody into his quarters, forcing him onto his bed to meditate. How many times had Cody spoken the words 'I am one with the Force and the Force is with me' as Obi-wan calmed him after a gruesome battle, shielded him from the sharp pain of immeasurable loss. How many times had the Force been there for Cody, orchestrated through Obi-Wan? 

Cody knows Obi-Wan recalls these moments because the clone does as well. And now, his guilt strengthens. 

“Excuse me?” He grits out, wincing, “You’re the one who wanted nothing to do with us.” 

Cody recoils.

“Its…not that simple.” He manages, barely above a whisper. 

In these past few months, he’s found himself saying this a lot. To his brothers, when they ask if he still cares about Obi-Wan. To his therapist, asking what he needs to move forward from what happened to him. To himself, when he looks at his reflection and wonders how he got to where he is now. 

The Force is back, cautiously ebbing around Cody’s field. Hesitant as the former commander lets him in. 

Gently, Obi-Wan speaks, “You were resistant to me in the Force, and cold whenever I was around you. I know what The Republic–what we did to you–I’m not an idiot Cody. I knew you wanted your space away from me.”

Cody cannot meet his eyes. He feels ashamed. And confused. As if the consequences of his actions are now coming to tear him into pieces. But he shouldn’t feel this way, right? He wanted this, right?  

“I don’t…” Cody deflates and throws his head into his hands. This is what he was dreading. His mind is still a mess of commands, of order, of questions, of anxiety. This is like exposure therapy, his trigger and his love all bound in one.

Through the gaps in his fingers, he looks at Obi-Wan lying in a hospital bed, bandages on his arms and head. 

Made to protect a galaxy that would have had his kind murdered if it hadn’t been for the discovery of the chips (and even that happened too late. Both have the saber and blaster scars to prove it). He thinks of Obi-Wan who threw himself into battle to save his men, who placed himself between Cody and a bullet to make sure his Commander made it out alive. 

Who approached him after Order 66 to make sure he was okay. 

Cody is flooded with thundering guilt.  Was all this worth then? If he feels this way about Obi-Wan? What will he tell Rex? What will he tell Boil? He’s supposed to set an example. He’s supposed to be the one who breaks free. What will he be telling his brothers if he goes back? “Cody–Cody, breath!” How Obi-Wan found the time to leave his bed and pull up a chair that had been on the other side of the room in the span of two seconds, Cody does not know. All he knows is that he’s enveloped in Obi-Wan’s physical and not so physical embrace, breathing deeply as tears cascaded down his face. 

“I thought I wanted that, Sir. And part of me is still finding out what all I want, but I know that I haven’t felt the way I just did when you touched me with the Force in a very long time. And I think that no matter how I feel about you,  if you died today, I would have lost my kriffing mind.” He admits through tears,  “so that counts for something, I guess. But I don’t know what that means for me.” 

“Healing is not linear, Cody. I,” Obi-Wan falters, “I still have not spoken to Anakin. I still have not forgiven Qui-Gon, but I would never regret my time with them. And when I am ready, I hope to embrace my padawan again. I say this to let you know that should you never want to see me after this, I will accept that. But I will always be here, waiting for you to return Cody. Be it in this life, or when we are both one with the Force.” 

Cody balls, sobbing loudly as he clings onto Obi-Wan. He nods, the coil in his stomach unfurling. He wonders if it is Obi-Wan’s doing. 

“I’m sorry for what I said about the Code. I'm sorry for everything,” he breathes, pulling himself together, “I am usually not like this.” “None of that Cody, you have nothing to apologize for. The fault is ours. The Order should have done more for you and your siblings,” he states, fingers running through Cody’s hair, “I had hoped that by staying away we were doing that, but I suppose we should let you choose how we interfere.” 

(He wants to tell him that this isn’t the case for all Jedi. Plo Koon tried the silent treatment, and Wolffe, Boost and Sinker apparently cornered him outside of his suite in the Jedi temple.) 

“Clones getting a choice,” Cody chuckles through his tears, “what an amazing concept.” 

Obi-Wan hums, fingers still twisting in Cody’s curls. Cody is more comfortable than he thought he’d be. He welcomes Obi-Wan’s touch just as he did the Force. “Obi-wan, I want to be with you. It won’t be easy, but neither was the war. And we both survived, somewhat.” The tears have stopped now, and he finds both his footing and his voice. Gently, he untangles himself from Obi-Wan’s arms and adjust himself so that he captures those blue eyes with his own. 

“I think we can win this too. If you’ll be patient with me. I am still…healing, as you put it. They did a lot to us in Kamino, and to put it frankly my brain is fucked. And a lot of that was before the war. I will not be easy to be with.” “My padawan is Anakin Skywalker who nearly turned Sith during the war, I don’t think the Force wants me to be with easy people. And I don’t want to either. Besides, I was willing to not speak to you for two years. I will be as patient as you need me to be, Cody.” 

“If you’re comparing me to the two second Sith, then we’re off to a bad start.” Obi-Wan erupts into laughter. Genuine laughter. Laughter so hard, he begins to tear up. Though Cody is somewhat hesitant to credit the humor alone for the tears. Maybe Obi-Wan needs an excuse of his own. 

“Who’s idea was that nickname?” “It was Jesse’s, but now most of the 501st has adopted it.  While half of the galaxy calls him Vader, the 501st calls him the two second Sith. I think it’s how they cope.” Cody joins in, reveling in the ridiculousness of it. 

Leave it to the 501st and their General to be the much needed comic relief.

In between their laughter, and their tears, they lean forward, foreheads brushing against the other.

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

(Sometime later, when Obi-Wan has fallen back to sleep, and the Jedi have come to collect their council member, Cody stands to collect Fox from behind the screen. It’s time they both go home. 

He nearly screams when he pulls back the fabric and sees Fox sheepishly bury his head into the mass of hair that is Jedi Master Quinlan Vos. 

He doesn’t even want to ask how much the latter heard. )

[vodika-vibes]

Hello friend! I have a request if you have the time, and it doesn't have to be very long.. here's the idea: During the early days of the clone wars Anakin is teamed up with a Jedi that wars blue robes, and Rex is immediately intrigued, cuz you know, 501s blue. His intrigue grows into admiration and then infatuation. He's crushing real hard. And this Jedi feels the same way.

So yeah maybe the kiss maybe they don't, whatever you like (it'd be great if the kiss 👀).

Again, only if you have time. Thanks 💙

Alright There, Captain?

Summary: Rex falls in love.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Jedi Reader

Word Count: 946

Warnings: Mentions of Fives' death

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I was trying to make it seem like snapshots into Rex's life as he slowly falls in love, but I'm not sure I pulled it off. Happy reading!

So far as Rex is aware, Jedi only wear black, dark brown, light brown, or white. Of course, his only evidence for this is General Skywalker and General Kenobi, but it seems to hold true. Based on some of the conversations he’s had with brothers in other battalions, at least.

As far as Rex is concerned, it might as well be a rule. Jedi wear muted colors.

And Rex genuinely believes that…right up until the day a young woman arrives on the Resolute in her small ship. She’s obviously a jedi, based on the lightsaber hanging on her hip and based on how enthusiastically General Skywalker greets her, but she doesn’t look like any jedi he’s met before.

For one, the only part of her outfit that could be considered “robe like” is the cloth belt around her waist. For another, her belt is the same shade of blue as his armor.

“Ah, Rex! There you are.” General Skywalker calls him over with a bright smile, and then he turns to the woman, “This is my Captain, he’ll show you someplace where you can change. Are you sure you don’t need to go to medical?”

“I’m fine, Anakin.” She says with a laugh, “You worry overly much.” And then she turns her gaze to Rex, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He replies politely.

She smiles kindly, “I just need someplace private to change back into my robes before I give my mission brief.”

“Of course, right this way.”

When she came out of the private fresher, dressed in blue and white robes, Rex couldn’t help his interest. She’s unlike any other jedi that he’s ever met. 

But he’s still a clone, and they are still a galaxy at war. So, while he makes a mental note of her name, he figures that this will be the last time he sees her. 

So far as he’s concerned, they’re just two ships passing in the night. A shame, but such is his fate.

The next time he sees her is several months later, when she rescues him and some of his brothers from a surprise attack.

She appears from nowhere, emerging from the surrounding forest to take out the droids as though she had been summoned. And, in spite of all of the physical activity, and in spite of the danger, she looks calm and composed.

Her hair is neat, as are her robes, and she doesn’t move more than she has to.

Rex can’t help but compare her to General Skywalker, and with some shame, he admits that his General is lacking when compared to her. Anakin would never be so calm and composed in a situation like this.

She commands the battlefield like she’s a goddess of war…and Rex finds himself smitten with her.

Once the fighting is over, Rex expects her to leave, to return to her mission, like what Anakin would do. But she surprises him, by taking the time to make sure that the men are okay, helping them to their feet, and patching up the ones who needed it.

And then she’s at his side, a warm smile on her pretty face as she kneels next to him, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Yes ma’am, just a little dinged.” Rex replies as she helps him sit up, “Thanks for helping.”

“You don’t have to thank me for caring, Rex.” She looks around, “Where’s your General?”

Rex’s face falls, “I…don’t know.”

Her face remains calm, “Not here then. That’s alright, do you mind if I take charge until he arrives?”

“I’d appreciate that General,” Rex says, as he stares at her face.

She favors him with the warmest smile, and Rex feels his heart skip a beat, “Rest now, General.” She says as she presses her hand against his shoulder, “I’ll take care of everything else.”

And, as she walks away, Rex can’t help but wonder if this is what love feels like.

The night after Fives dies, Rex is in a bar. He’s not drunk, but he doesn’t want to see his brothers. He doesn’t want to see anyone. Not Anakin. Not Obi-Wan. Not any of his brothers from the 501st.

For one night, he just wants to stop being him.

He lifts his head when a pair of delicate looking hands, with blue nails, appears in his line of sight. He follows the deceptively frail looking arms up to a familiar face.

Her smile is sad, “Alright there, Captain?”

He releases a shuddering breath, “No. Not really.”

She nods and slides into the booth next to him, her body soft and warm when pressed against his side, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just…I want to stop being me, just for one night.” Rex admits as he looks at her. 

Her hands come up and cup his face, “I wish I could take your pain from you.” She whispers.

Rex stares at her, at her pretty face, at her stunning eyes, at the way she still wears his colors—

“I’ve always loved how you wear my colors,” Rex admits as he lightly touches the blue part of her robe. “You look good in them.”

Her smile is warm, “Blue has always been my favorite color.”

“It suits you.” Rex murmurs, his hands come up to cradle her face, “Can I kiss you?”

Her smile widens slightly, “I’d like that a lot.” She whispers.

It’s all she needs to say, as Rex leans in and presses his lips against hers. She’s warm and soft and everything he’s ever fantasized about and more. And, for the first time in a long time, Rex thinks that maybe everything will be alright.

[wizardofrozz]

Shadow Play

Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), Senator Farr, Commander Thorn, and mention of Commander Stone

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: NSFW, this is literally just filth, unprotected sex, exhibition, creampie, fluff, Fox being a tease

Summary: Seeing their favorite senator getting wrecked by their commander was certainly not in the Coruscant Guard’s mission briefing for today. 

A/N: I finally had the motivation to write some Fox smut thanks to this art. Huge thanks to @homie-one-kenobi​ for all the encouragement and help editing ❤️ Writing this has reduced me to a puddle so please enjoy 😂

         Lights flashed across the rows of seats, making you squint as another Mon Calamari dancer twirled elegantly. You tried to focus on the choreography, praying it would hold your attention but no matter what, you still couldn’t force yourself to enjoy the ballet. Watching it for a third time wasn’t changing your opinion, yet it wasn’t like you could’ve declined the offer. Your eyes flickered to the balcony opposite you, noting Fox’s absence for the fifth time in less than an hour, borderline glaring at the unfortunate Corrie taking his place. 

         A small part of you hated the poor sentry, his red armor acting as a constant reminder that for the last 21 rotations and 17 hours since Fox left for an off-world assignment, your bed had been cold and empty. Your eyes finally drifted away from the trooper and just barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at the small group of senators whispering praises. While you agreed that the performers were exceptional, you couldn’t follow the plot, leaving you to count down the seconds until the next intermission. A small part of you wished that Riyo or Padme were there to make the whole experience a little more bearable. 

         Years of etiquette training was the only thing that stopped you from jumping out of your seat when a booming voice announced the second intermission. Your aid that was standing near the back of the senatorial box shot you a sympathetic look and you appreciated the gesture even if there was nothing they could do to help. Just as the door was within reach, the faint call of your name had you stopping in your tracks, forcing your expression to remain pleasant. 

         “Senator Farr,” you greeted, managing a small smile. You had nothing against the Rodian senator, you quite liked him, but you really weren’t in the mood for small talk. You expected him to ask for your interpretation of the ballet only to surprise you when he ushered you into the bustling hall. 

         “How many more acts are there?” he whispered, leaning in to keep the conversation somewhat private. Your mouth twisted to the side in a poor attempt at hiding your amusement.

         “Three,” you replied, chewing on your top lip when Senator Farr’s already large eyes seemed to grow bigger. “I plan to feign a stomach bug for the next two.” 

         “Will it be any less believable if we both do?” he mused, glancing over your shoulder at the cluster of senators still talking about Act 2. 

         “Probably more believable,” you snickered, scratching the corner of your mouth to cover your persistent grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well.”

         “Hm, now that you mention it,” Farr sighed, his forehead wrinkling in a show of distress that you found quite impressive. He chanced one last look over your shoulder before gently nudging your arm and hurrying toward the bathroom. You allowed yourself a fond laugh before heading in the direction of the lady’s room, making a detour through the nearby door at the last second. The click of your disgustingly uncomfortable shoes was deafening in the silent stairwell, making you pause at the top of the first flight to check no one had followed. 

         Once you were confident you were in the clear, you took the last flight at a slower pace, contemplating burning the fucking torture devices you called shoes the entire way. You paused one last time at the top of the steps, just to be safe, before slipping through the door at the top. A warm, orangish glow washed over you, melting some of the tension in your neck and shoulders as you stepped into the cupola. 

         It had been far too long since you’d ventured into the little hideaway, only able to admire the beautiful stained glass windows from afar. Most Coruscant residents had no idea there was even a room atop the opera house, meaning they missed out on one of the most beautiful views. You lazily wandered toward the window, lightly brushing your fingers over the marbled glass, watching the slightly distorted ecumenopolis below. Your original intention had been to find a refuge from the torture of sitting through three more acts but standing there, looking out across the capital world, all you felt was lonely. 

         The soft whir of the door was lost to your aching heart but there was no mistaking the muted footsteps approaching. Anyone else would’ve felt fear in that moment, yet you only sighed, knowing the taste of solace you found had come to an end. You let your hand linger on the cool glass for another second before dropping it, turning to face the presence lingering off to your left. 

         For a moment, you were convinced you were hallucinating, that maybe you were sick, when you turned to find a Coruscant Guard member watching you. There was no mistaking the pattern you had sought out in waves of red armor time and time again. He canted his head and it was so painfully familiar, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

         “What are you doing here?” you blurted, your manners suddenly tumbling to Coruscant’s surface. Not that he minded. 

         “I could ask you the same thing,” Fox countered. Just hearing his voice, the unique inflection in his words that set him apart had your shoulders slumping like the marionette strings folding your facade up had been cut. Something between a sob and laugh tumbled past your lips, the sound seemed to break through the barrier Fox built around himself. The second his stance lost some of its rigidity you were moving, throwing your arms around his shoulders. The collision punched a grunt out of Fox but he barely even swayed, catching your weight with ease.

         “What are you doing here?” you repeated, the words muffled against his shoulder. It had been three long weeks since you saw him before he went dark for a security detail off-world. Fox smelled of blaster fire, caf, and sweat, a mixture that should’ve had your nose wrinkling, but right then, it was so perfectly him you pressed closer. 

         “Thought I’d pick up a security shift for a few senators spending the night at the opera,” Fox sighed, pressing the hard edge of his helmet against the side of your head. That had you pulling away, staring into his dark visor. How long had he been back? The question must’ve been written all over your face because Fox laughed, a soft, beautiful sound. “Relax, we landed maybe an hour before it started.”

         “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you mumbled, threading your fingers together at the back of his neck.

         “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Fox snorted, pulling you as close as he dared. The bite of plastoid against your body was uncomfortable but you’d take it over his absence any day.

         “Drama queen,” you huffed with a fond eye roll. His helmet tipped down and you assumed he was pinning you with a dark glare, something you had never wanted to see more than you did in that moment. You carefully broke the seal, slowly lifting the bright red helmet off, not realizing you were holding your breath. Fox blinked a few times, gently shaking his head, tousling his longer-than-normal curls. But instead of a scowl, you were greeted with a soft smile that melted your heart. 

         “Hey,” he breathed, gently tracing the curve of your back. 

         “Stars, I missed you,” you rasped just before surging forward to capture his lips. Fox let out a soft, breathy laugh against your lips before gently cradling the back of your head, and leaning into the kiss. The bitterness of caf lingered on his lips, a taste you shouldn’t have missed seeing that you drank it just as often as Fox, however, it always seemed to taste better this way.   

         The kiss had started out sweet, a slow and tender brush of lips that made your heart flutter wildly. You intended to pull away until Fox started to knead the back of your neck, molding you against the curve of his chest. Every ounce of fatigue and anxiety you had been holding onto melted away as you coaxed his mouth open. Fox groaned softly, using his hold on your neck to angle your head back with an urgency you weren’t expecting. The shift had your head spinning to the point that you hadn’t realized you were moving until your back met the cool window.

         “Missed you too,” Fox mumbled, dragging his lips away from yours to pant against your cheek. “So fucking much.”

         “Mm, playing bodyguard for one of my colleagues wasn’t engaging enough,” you teased, carding through his messy hair. Fox nipped at your ear in retaliation, forcing a half-gasp, half-giggle past your lips. He tugged you tighter against his chest, the unforgiving plastoid of his codpiece pressing into your thigh, tempting you with what waited behind it. 

         “Like any of them could compare to you,” he breathed, nuzzling into your neck with a shallow roll of his hips. Maybe it was because you weren’t used to him being gone for long stretches of time but you were suddenly aching to feel something beyond GAR blacks and rigid plastoid. Fox yelped at the impatient tug on his codpiece, pulling back to dart his eyes between your hand and your face. 

         “What - what are you doing?” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder. Yet he didn’t try to move your hand, letting you trace the shape at a torturous pace. 

         “I’m trying to indulge in what I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks,” you huffed, playfully tugging on the clip holding the armor in place. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before his expression shifted, brown eyes somehow growing darker in the low light. 

         “Right here?” Fox mused, crowding you against the window and pinning your hand in place. Daring you to bow out. “Now what if one of the boys looked up and saw us? How would they feel seeing their favorite senator being ruined by their commander?” 

         “Fox,” you gasped, closing your fist in his hair, and grinding into the curve of his thigh plate. The idea should’ve scared you, should’ve filled you with a numbing dread at the thought of anyone catching an esteemed senator with a Guard commander. Instead, you clenched around nothing, mouth falling open with your strained pants. 

         “Oh, you like that, honey,” Fox purred, his gloved hand slipping under the hem of your short skirt. Even through a layer of fabric, his touch left a trail of heat across your skin. The quiet whine that followed the first brush of his fingers over your cunt made him shiver in your grip. “Maker, you sound even sweeter than in my dreams.”

         “You - you dream about the s-sounds I make?” you panted, rocking forward in time with the drag of his fingers.

         “Oh, I dream about more than that,” he chucked, bumping his nose against yours.

         “Care to share?”

         “How long do you have?” 

         “For you?” you whispered, barely brushing your lips against his. “All the time in the galaxy.”

         “Is that so?” he mumbled, moving to pepper kisses down the side of your neck. You caught a glimpse of redness high on his cheeks just before a digit sank into you with little resistance. Your cunt clenched around his gloved finger, a strangled moan bursting from your lips as he pumped his finger once. The rough fabric of his gloves never bothered you before but the desperate, clawing need to feel the warmth of his skin had you squirming.

         “Take your gloves off,” you all but begged, “please.” You almost wished you hadn’t asked when he slowly, torturously, pulled away. He caught your eye, pinning you in place with a heavy look, never breaking eye contact as he brought his hand toward his face. You had witnessed Fox bring down a mercenary single-handedly after losing his blaster, seen him dissolve a full-fledged riot, and hit what should’ve been an impossible mark without batting an eye. Yet somehow the sight of his tongue curling around the soaked finger of his glove was more electrifying, setting your teeth on edge. 

         He pinned you in place, closing his lips around his finger; his lashes fluttered, a muffled groan filling the air as he savored your taste. Your lungs suddenly felt too small as you watched the slow drag of his digit over his full bottom lip. Fox was putting on a show, the twinkle in his lust-blown eyes giving him away and you were undoubtedly enjoying every second. A flash of white teeth sinking into the tip of the glove made your breath hitch, your eyes staying glued to the hem of the fabric as Fox tilted his head back, revealing strong, calloused hands. 

         Fox’s now bare hand came to rest lightly against your chest, following the curve of your body but your focus was zeroed in on the glove dangling from his teeth. He looked far too pleased with himself, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he paused, letting you admire the view. The feather-light brush of his fingers over your heated skin jerked you back to reality but your eyes still followed the fabric when he turned his head, letting the glove fall to the floor before turning his attention back to you. 

         “Better?” he rumbled, brushing through your folds before sinking two fingers into you, his smug grin never fading. Your head bobbed in an almost frantic nod as you tried to bite back a moan. Fox’s smug smile wasn’t helping either. 

         “Fuck, yes,” you gasped, tightening your grip in his hair. Fox hummed in the back of his throat, lazily pumping his fingers like he had all the time in the world. You were suddenly reminded of your hand placement when he shifted his weight. If your brain didn’t feel like it might leak out of your ears, you would’ve been more impressed with the skillful way you unclipped his codpiece in one swift movement. 

         “You’re getting too good at that,” Fox groaned, rocking into your hand.

         “You only have yourself to blame,” you laughed breathlessly, tracing the shape of his hard length. He surged forward, his finger brushing a devastating spot inside you as his lips slammed into yours, muffling your incoherent cry. 

         “Will–will you let me,” he stammered between kisses, the sloppy roll of his hips growing rougher, “let me fuck you for all of Coruscant to see?” 

         “If–fuck–if you don’t–” you warned, trying to sound commanding, but your ability to form words was quickly narrowing to nothing more than curses and Fox’s name. That seemed to be all the permission he needed though as he licked into your mouth again, the hand that had been buried in your cunt coming up to grip your jaw. In a flurry of movement, you were suddenly facing the expanses of Coruscant, Fox’s warmth pressing against your back as he hiked your skirt up, bunching it around your hips.

         “Put your hands on the window, honey,” he rumbled, brushing his nose against the shell of your ear. You obeyed without a second thought, bracing both your hands against one of the orange panels; your heart fluttered when one of his large hands filled the space beside yours. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see our handprints every time I pass by.”

         The thought that you’d leave behind a reminder, something only you and Fox would know about, had you pushing back into him. He seemed to catch on, unceremoniously tugging his pants down just enough to free his weeping cock, slipping it between your thighs. There was a brief moment where he paused, his tip barely pressing into your folds like he was savoring the buildup before he pushed in. The stretch felt endless, your head falling forward as you panted around soft whimpers until he was fully sheathed. 

         “Stars,” you chuckled, feeling dizzy with how full you were, “almost forgot how big you are.” Fox’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, punching the air from your lungs. His free hands slowly followed the curve of your waist, catching on the flashy fabric of your outfit, pausing briefly to brush a thumb over your covered nipple. A shiver tore through you when his hand gently curled around your throat, never squeezing, only using his grip as a way to hold you in place. 

         “Guess I’ll have to remind you,” he growled, pausing long enough for the words to sink in before he moved. The first thrust tested your ability to hold yourself up but Fox barely gave you a moment to steady yourself before he picked up a brutal pace. If you weren’t so high above the bustling crowds, you might’ve been worried about how you cried out, throwing your head back against Fox’s shoulder. 

         “F-Fox,” you moaned, needing him to hear the desperation pumping through your veins. You mindlessly curled your fingers over the smooth window pane, forcing your eyes open when you met warm skin. Fox’s hand was still braced against the window, your hand half covering his after your frantic scrambling. You were so mesmerized by the sheer size difference that you didn't notice right away when Fox shifted his weight, hitting a spot that made your eyes cross. You blindly grabbed onto the back of his hand, fingers interlacing between his. Fox instinctively closed his hand, pressing your fingertips into the rough skin of his palm. He nuzzled against your cheek, his ragged breathing raising goosebumps along the length of your throat.

         “Fuck, you - you feel so good, cyar’ika” he whimpered, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek. You were both spiraling out of control, climbing higher and higher with each galaxy-shattering thrust. Fox’s usually composed attitude was long gone, leaving him just as desperate and pleasure-drunk as you were. The heat building under your skin had reached a scalding level but you just couldn’t seem to fall over the edge.

         “I– I’m so close,” you whispered, turning your head to try and find his lips. Fox mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch before his hand slid over your chest, coming to rest on your stomach. The pressure of his hand made each punch of his cock somehow more explosive, reminding you both just how deep he was; Fox’s strangled moan overlayed with yours, his hips losing their rhythm.

         “Never - fuck -  never leaving you behind again,” he panted, leaning heavily against your back to drop his hand lower. Every muscle in your lower half clenched when his fingers brushed your clit, ripping an unusually loud moan from deep in Fox’s chest. The movements of his fingers were sloppy but you were so lost in the blinding pleasure that it didn’t matter. It finally, finally, crested, throwing you over the edge with a cry of Fox’s name as you gushed around him.

         It only took three more thrusts before Fox went rigid, burying himself to the hilt with a soft, shaky moan. 

         Your thoughts cleared slowly, the fog of arousal melting away as you drifted back down to Coruscant. The empty cupola felt oddly quiet without the slap of skin on skin, leaving you to focus on Fox’s slightly labored breathing. Your eyes drifted back to where your hands were still braced against the stained glass, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth when you noticed that your hand was still wrapped around Fox’s larger one. Flashing speeder lights caught your attention, drawing your gaze to the traffic zipping past the opera house. 

         “Think anyone saw us?” you wondered absently. Fox laughed, loud and unguarded, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and the sound alone was enough to make your stomach do a funny little flip.

         “We may never know,” Fox snickered, kissing the base of your neck. The deafening chirp of Fox’s comm brought you crashing back to reality, but you did your best to not let your disappointment show when he reached up to tap a button on his vambrace. “Fox.”

         “Gotta question for you, Commander,” Thorn said in place of a greeting. Fox propped his chin on your shoulder, humming softly when you let your head drop to the side, resting your temple against his. 

         “Yes, Thorn.” There was a pregnant pause, your brows pulling together when you swore you heard a muffle laugh through the channel. 

         “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to be in the opera house’s cupola, would you?” Thorn snickered. Your stomach plummeted to your feet while Fox stiffened behind you. There was no denying it since Fox’s cock was still buried inside you. You tilted your head down, searching for a few dots of red in the sea of creatures, easily finding them near the opera house’s entrance. 

         “No,” Fox replied stiffly, only making the situation worse.

         “Oh really?” a slightly different voice huffed. You glanced to the side, arching a brow in question. Fox rolled his eyes but mouthed, Stone, before returning his attention back to the comm. 

         “Heya, senator!” Thorn shouted. You only knew it was him because just as the greeting came through, you saw one of the dots with more red paint raise an arm, waving it wildly.

         “How’d you know?” Fox grumbled, sounding close to pouting in your opinion.

         “We can see your shadows, shit for brains,” Thorn wheezed, barely getting his sentence out between fits of laughter. 

         “Go do your fucking jobs,” Fox snapped, punching the button to end the call a little too hard. You had managed to keep a straight face throughout the call but you were steadily losing the battle against laughter. “I’m glad you find it funny.”

         “I’m surprised you don’t,” you giggled, lightly resting your head against his temple. Fox huffed and hid his face against your shoulder, faintly shaking his head. 

         “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he groaned, mindlessly squeezing your fingers that were still intertwined with his.

         “About getting caught,” you wondered, letting a smirk pull at the corner of your mouth, “or how hot it looked from their perspective?” Fox sounded defeated as he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

         “Both.” 

Taglist: @techs-feral-wife​ (thank you for your help too Max ❤️)

[dailydragon08]

Closing The Tomb

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader   Summary: The sequel to Darkness Calls. Luke deals with the consequences of almost using the dark side to save your life, leaving you in suspense of whether he'll re-implement the no attachment rule in his new Jedi Order. With the ghost of Obi-wan pushing him one way while Luke's heart is pulled another, secrets are revealed and friendships are left hanging on the edge of a knife. Warnings: Slight anti-Jedi/anti "no attachments" rhetoric, mainly against the stringent rules the prequel era Jedi had. Major angst, with Luke struggling a lot and feeling very guilty. Reader gets a brief, nondescript leg injury at some point that heals quickly (realizing I injure reader's leg a lot specifically so Luke can carry her lol), mentions of Luke having insomnia and PTSD, slow burn, mutual pining, angsty ending that will be resolved in the final part 3 of this trilogy. A/N:  Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and my masterlist can be found linked in the pinned post on top of my blog. This fic is also included in my AO3 (DragonHeartstring360). Stay tuned for the final part 3 and enjoy!

**

You squinted to see through the oncoming smoky haze. Stars wheeled in a circle with a thin, glass-like pathway cutting through the middle of a dark sky. It glowed faintly, casting its reflections on none other than Luke’s terrified face. He stared straight at you before glancing at the two pieces of rope he was clinging to. Obi-wan Kenobi held one end while a man who bore a striking resemblance to Luke held the other. You recognized him as Anakin in his prime, except this Anakin’s eyes kept flashing yellow. Everyone looked at you before turning to each other, and chaos ensued. Obi-wan and Anakin both bore down on their ends of the rope and pulled as hard as they could.

Luke squeezed his eyes closed and grimaced, mumbling, “wait…no…I can find balance…with both—”

“No, you can’t,” the others said in unison before pulling even harder.

“Luke, just let go!” you yelled, but to no avail as the ropes suddenly wound their way up Luke’s hands to wrap around his arms like snakes.

Obi-wan and Anakin pulled even harder, and you could see the strain on Luke’s arms from where you floated above. You tried to yell your friend’s name again only to have him stare at you with horror—the eye closest to his old mentor it’s usual blue, the one closest to his father an ominous yellow—

Your eyes flew open as you hyperventilated. You clutched your bed sheets to reassure yourself you were home on the Redeemer before looking around at the cargo hold that Luke had lovingly converted into a bedroom just for you. You remembered how excited he was to show you the imperial shuttle once he’d finished his renovations. At first, you’d thought he was just excited to show you his work and were sad at the thought that he might leave soon after. There was nothing to describe the amount of relief and joy when you realized there wasn’t just one bedroom, but two—and Luke had proudly announced this one belonged to you and you alone and he’d love for you to travel with him, so you could both learn more about the ways of the Force and the jedi from each other and hunt for ancient texts and artifacts to help restore the order.

You sat up and took in the darkness of the hold. That had felt like an eternity ago and you could feel the anxious pressure building in your chest at the thought of things never being that easy, warm, and welcoming again. Luke had been avoiding you ever since the incident aboard the imperial cruiser. Amid some jammed communications, you had almost been sucked out of the ship’s porthole into space along with your attackers and Luke had barely saved you in time – but not before nearly slipping to the dark side to aid in his rescue. You knew he was ashamed of himself and could sense his turmoil through the Force any time the two of you were in close proximity (which was unfortunately becoming less and less). He was still polite, helpful, and kind, but there was a new distance and coldness to him that felt like a knife in your chest.

You swung your feet over the bed and half-heartedly stuffed some pants and shoes on. The fact that you were sleeping in an oversized shirt of Luke’s only added to your own turmoil as you shrugged a jacket over your shoulders. Padding through the dark, empty main hold of the ship revealed Luke’s bedroom door still wide open like it had been when you’d gone to sleep and R2 nowhere to be found. You quietly made your way down the landing ramp to where the ship sat on Khofar, where the two of you were hunting for yet another Force artifact to further your studies and the resurrection of the order. Crickets chirped as the moon hung full above with a gentle breeze. You thought how much you and Luke might have even enjoyed the peace of this place if he would just forgive himself.

Voices floated through the trees, along with the telltale whistles of an astromech and you followed, careful to make your footsteps as light and quiet as possible. A winding dirt path through the trees led to a small clearing with a fallen log. Luke sat with his back to you, and you recognized the glowing blue figure of Obi-wan’s ghost. R2 was nowhere to be seen and you wondered if Luke had sent him away. The idea that he had worried you; he took R2 everywhere with him and must’ve really been in a dire state if he told him to leave.

“…cannot tell you what to do,” Obi-wan continued as you quietly wedged yourself behind a tree trunk. If either of them sensed your presence, it didn’t stop them from talking. “It will be your order, after all. But I don’t think it was wrong for the Jedi Council to impose the no attachment rule during my time exactly for reasons such as this. One mistake does not guarantee your downfall, but as Master Yoda used to say: fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. A lesson your father unfortunately learned very well.”

“But there was still good in him,” Luke argued, his voice rough and strained from lack of sleep. This was the third night in a row he’d snuck off to converse with his Force ghost council—and would likely be the fourth day in a row of dark bags under his eyes. “And I managed to convince him to turn back to the good side and help defeat Palpatine because of our attachment. Isn’t that what you always thought was his destiny as the Chosen One: to destroy the Sith? How could I have convinced him to do that without our attachment? And I couldn’t even imagine where I’d be without Han or Leia…” His voice turned quiet and mournful. “Or Y/N.”

“This is your order, Luke. I cannot and will not interfere too much. There’s a possibility you could be right, and this could be a new age and era for the jedi where attachment isn’t as dangerous.”

“But without the danger of the Sith, wouldn’t that make it less dangerous? Couldn’t I make teaching about healthy attachment or connection versus unhealthy possession part of the training I give?”

A bird cawed low and long overhead and you glanced at the sky to see the first flecks of light shine through the trees. You hoped that didn’t mean Luke had been awake all night.

“Just because the Sith are less of a danger doesn’t mean the dark side is any less so,” Obi-wan continued. “You still need to be vigilant. It can still be a very slippery slope that’s difficult—near impossible—to come back from. The choice is ultimately up to you and I will respect whatever you decide. But keep in mind what you almost did because of your attachment.” He glanced quickly at your hiding spot before turning his eyes back to Luke. “More than one friend on this planet is waking, so I think it’s best you either start your day or get a few final moments of rest while you can. I will be here if you need further guidance on this matter.”

You stayed put behind your tree, but knew the resounding silence meant the ghost had faded into the morning light. Luke sighed long and hard before there were several rustling noises. When no footsteps followed, you peeked around the tree to see him sitting cross-legged in the brush with his back to you. For a moment, you admired the slope of it and how his perfectly tailored jacket clung to the toned muscle. Luke was so good at sensing you from much further away, there was no doubt in your mind he knew you were there. Was he choosing to ignore you? Or was he just really that tired that maybe he didn’t notice?

Either way, you suddenly felt very unwelcome and made your way back to the ship as quietly as you could. During your absence, R2 had also returned and was refilling Luke’s waterskin at the sink. He beeped sadly at you as you passed towards your room. You laid a comforting hand on his dome and knew he was feeling the weight of his master just as much.

With a wave of your hand, the hydraulic door closed behind you. You sat back on your bed, kicking off your shoes and flopping back to stare at the ceiling. What if Luke did decide to re-implement the no attachment rule? What would that mean for his relationship with his friends, his sister—with you? You doubted he’d send you away—at least, not at first. He’d never explicitly invited you to be part of his new Jedi Order, but he’d hinted at it several times. And why would he have made a whole bedroom in the Redeemer for you, reiterated that this was supposed to be as much your home as his several times, and still be taking you on Force-related missions with him if he was planning to give you the boot? But even if he didn’t ask you to leave, you weren’t sure how long you could handle this new cold and distant version of Luke. It was too painful—especially with your growing feelings for him, and what you had thought were his growing feelings for you. Maybe that’s why he was so afraid. He’d never really explained to you why his father fell to the dark side outside of something to do with a secret, forbidden marriage with his mother. But was that the whole story? You had a feeling not, but felt it wasn’t your place to ask either Luke or Anakin’s ghost. You’d never even spoken to any of the Force ghosts.

But if the old jedi had forbade relationships out of fear of it turning into a gateway to the dark side, weren’t they just giving into the very think they preached against: fear?

You sighed as you heard Luke’s boots thump up the boarding ramp. “Hi, R2,” he said sadly. You locked onto his Force signature in your mind, feeling his sadness, confusion, guilt, longing, turmoil, and a sense that he saw himself as unworthy to be the one to lead the jedi to a new beginning. Perhaps against better judgement, you sent a wave of comfort to him through your link and heard his boots stop on their way to his room just ahead of yours. You closed your eyes and leaned into the Force to sense every movement on the ship. His footsteps suddenly turned and halted just outside your door and you could sense him raising his hand to knock, then stop. He lowered it, then raised it, then lowered it again before running a hand through his hair and down the front of his face. He turned and quickly made his way into his room, and you could hear the muffled whoosh of the door behind him. The lack of returning comfort from him made your heart sink and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would just be best to get on a ship and go elsewhere, alone, after this mission was done to dull the pain for both of you.

~***~

Things remained just as stilted and awkward over the next few days as you and Luke stayed on-world. The jedi texts remained elusive, but the planet’s dangers didn’t. Many animals attacked you out of pure instinct to protect their home, and storms and rockslides from the nearby cliff were annoyingly common.

An animal had sunk their teeth deep into your leg at some point and Luke immediately went into protection mode, even carrying you to a secluded spot to clean and dress your wound. The return of his softness, care, and openness as he asked repeatedly if you were all right and if you could walk almost made you tear up in relief. However, once you confirmed you would be fine and could walk by yourself, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He still turned around to check on you many times as you continued your trek, holding out his hand to help you over any unsteady or slippery points on the ground. You relished the feeling of his warm skin against yours, eyeing your initials sewn in red on the new black leather glove you’d given him after his had been lost out the porthole. At least he hadn’t taken it off with a replacement he had lying around the Redeemer (and you knew for a fact he had some extras). That had to be a good sign—right?

Just as the two of you had put enough together to realize there was likely an abandoned temple somewhere up on the mountaintop, a torrential rain began. Luke was at your side in an instant, throwing his cloak over top of you and pulling the hood up over your head.

“This way! There’s an overhang!” he cried, R2 beeping urgently and zipping behind him.

He kept a firm hand on your back as he led you to a shallow lip in the mountainside that would perfectly shield you from the rain. It was small—so small, the two of you had to sit shoulder to shoulder while R2 tried to hide under a large leaf from a nearby plant.

The pounding of the rain almost drowned out the pounding of your heart in your ears as your and Luke’s breaths slowed. This was usually a time you wouldn’t hesitate to lean into Luke’s side or give his hand a reassuring squeeze, but you could still sense his deep anguish through the Force and decided against it.

The two of you had sat in silence before and it had always felt safe and comfortable. This time, it was the most awkward silence you’d ever experienced. You glanced at your friend out of the corner of your eye to catch his sad gaze before he quickly looked away.

“Luke, it’s okay—”

“I’m all right.” He looked anything but. The dark circles were still prevalent and he was beginning to look pale and gaunt. You hadn’t seen him eat much the past few days and he looked especially miserable in his soaked jedi blacks, his hair plastered to his forehead. You realized you were still wearing his cloak and tried to extend it so it wrapped around him as well. Where before he would’ve immediately leaned into you with a grateful smile, he kept himself stiff and stared straight ahead as if you weren’t even there.

“Luke, please, don’t torture yourself. I can guarantee you every jedi has done it at some point. It’s natural. It doesn’t make you—”

“Like my father,” he interrupted quietly, still staring off into the distance at something you couldn’t see.

“You’re nothing like him though,” you prodded gently, hoping this might get him to open up and let you back in. The distance of the last few days was about to make you crawl out of your skin.

“I am though. I have so many similarities to Anakin before his fall. I can’t become Vader—I can’t create another Vader. I—” He shook his head and turned away from you. “It wasn’t just a simple mistake. I have…to be a leader, I have to be able to set an example and protect people, I have to recreate an entire order…” He shook his head before turning to you, his face empty and distant once again. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure this out on my own.”

“But you don’t have to.”

Luke turned his gaze to his feet and was silent for a long time. “Once the rain lets up, we should make out way back to the ship. Then we can try to find a place to land on the mountain to find this temple.”

You sighed. “All right. It’s super foggy up there all the time from what I’ve seen though, so we’ll likely have to use the Force to land.”

He nodded before his silence once again felt like the closing of a tomb door.

~***~

A gentle tug on your nightshirt—well, Luke’s nightshirt—woke you from your sleep. You blinked your eyes open to see R2 by your bedside, chirping urgently with one of his retractable arms attached to the black fabric.

“R2?” you grumbled. “What’s going on?” You reached out through the Force to inspect the ship, realizing Luke’s Force signature felt much too far to be onboard. “Where’s Luke?”

R2 beeped again before letting go of your shirt and rolling towards the door. When you didn’t immediately follow, he whizzed back to your side and whistled again, this time more insistent before returning to the door.

“All right, all right, let me put some shoes on at least.”

You stuffed your feet into your boots, not even bothering to tie the laces in your haste before scurrying after R2. You followed him through the maze-like trees, doing your best to avoid the mud, but knew you’d be heard from a mile away with how soft the ground was. As you followed the astromech through the forest, familiar voices became clear and you couldn’t withhold your groan as you heard Obi-wan for what felt like the hundredth time this week. What bad advice was he giving now?

“…secret marriage with your mother,” he was saying as you neared the stumps they were both sitting on. “He seemed to fear something horrible happening to her in childbirth—or maybe even you and your sister. He seemed to think the dark side was the only way to save all three of you and allow you to live as a family.”

Finally sick of what was, frankly, Obi-wan’s bullshit, you stormed towards their spot. You were sure you looked extremely menacing in your pajamas and unlaced boots, stomping through the mud, but you didn’t care. “Maybe that’s because he was tricked!”

Luke looked back at you in surprise. The Force ghost sitting with him didn’t seem at all surprised by your presence, but you could see the sudden apprehension all over his blue glowing face.

“Y/N?” Luke said. “What are you—um—”

His eyes fell to your legs, but you didn’t give yourself a second to pause and think as you turned your attention to Obi-wan. “You know and have said yourself—because Luke told me—that no one in the order realized how dangerous Palpatine was, or at least didn’t act on their concerns at all, and just let Anakin get close to him because, by your own admission, you thought having an ‘in’ with the chancellor would be a good idea. You didn’t think for a second that maybe Palpatine was grooming him? That he was looking at the lack of comfort, safety, and being allowed to just feel your feelings like any sentient being should be able to do and played on that? You don’t think he provided everything to Anakin that the order wouldn’t specifically so it would all play right into his hands? And you still want to go around saying the ‘only’ reason he fell to the dark side was because he fell in love and had kids?”

“Unchecked emotions are not an option for a jedi—” Obi-wan began.

“I never said they were. But I’m tired of you making Luke,” you gestured to your friend, who was still staring at you in shock, “feel like he’s potentially ruined his entire future as a jedi because of one mistake he almost made—which I would like to point out he pulled himself back at the last minute and didn’t actually use the dark side—and if he ever makes it again, he’s going to become just like Vader. That’s not how that works and you know it. A jedi shouldn’t let their emotions control them, no, but to say they’re never even allowed to have them in the first place? That’s just ridiculous and you know it! If the jedi are going to hold everyone to standards of unattainable perfection, no wonder your order was so easily corrupted from the inside. Your order’s own hubris is what kept them from seeing what was happening right under their noses the whole time. No sentient being should be expected to never have ‘bad’ emotions or never make a mistake, and maybe if Anakin had felt more supported and like he had someone to turn to about his fears without getting excommunicated, he wouldn’t have turned so easily.

“Plus, we’ve met a few jedi who survived the Purge who went on to have ‘attachments’ and never fell to the dark side. I bet there were more jedi that just Anakin who had secret lovers and even children. You can’t tell me in a temple with ten thousand or more jedi that only one ever broke this rule because it’s so ridiculous and unrealistic to expect—”

Luke stood and put himself between you and Obi-wan. “Y/N, that’s enough. Please calm down. These accusations and the lecture aren’t fair to throw at Obi-wan when he’s just trying to help.”

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. “You call this help? Ever since you started your nightly sessions with him, you’ve just felt even more guilty and confused and it’s only gotten worse. You’re not even sleeping or eating, and all over some rule that was likely hurting the order more than helping—”

“Y/N, stop—”

“No!” You gestured to the Force ghost’s crestfallen face. “Look at him! He knows I’m making sense. I overheard you the other night, and I think teaching healthy connection versus unhealthy possession to padawans is a great idea. They’ll feel supported while learning that there can be an unhealthy side to things if they’re not careful, but that having those feelings at a base level doesn’t make them evil and they can have someone to talk to about it without being villainized. You were so adamant about there still being good in Vader and bringing him back to the good side, even after everything he did. You know deep down that banning any and all relationships or ‘attachments’ or whatever you want to call them is toxic.”

Luke’s expression had become more guilty as you spoke, but now shifted to annoyed. “Whatever your opinions on this matter, you need to show Obi-wan more respect—”

“No,” Obi-wan finally said. “Stop.” He stood and took a few steps closer to you. “…She’s right. About everything.”

Neither of you bothered to hide your surprise as Obi-wan glanced at his feet before awkwardly folding his hands behind his back. “When I was a young padawan…very young, foolish and inexperienced…I was put on a mission with my master, Qui-gon Jinn, to protect a young woman from dark side agents who sought to terminate her and all the work she was doing to help her homeworld. We became close, and it was often just myself and her, since someone needed to stay behind to protect her while my master was the one to hunt down clues or chase our assailants away. We…” he sighed, looking up at the stars peeking through the tree canopy, “were naïve…and thought we were being careful…”

You sighed and shook your head. For all his blustering about “no attachments,” here he was revealing that he himself had broken the rule. You glanced at Luke as a gentle breeze blew through, rustling the branches above you. The fleeting moonlight revealed the shocked look on your friend’s face as he stared at his old mentor, and you could feel anger and slight betrayal building in his signature.

Obi-wan cleared his throat. “Anyway…I never knew during my lifetime, but once I passed to the Netherworld of the Force, I found out she had a child—our child. She never told me or the boy a thing about it and neither of them sought me out as a result. Luke, your father’s ghost could tell you more himself, but it’s likely true…his relationship with your mother was likely not the entire reason he fell to the dark side. We did allow Anakin and Palpatine to get close…and that was likely a mistake on our part. Palpatine had many years to subtly manipulate your father. The nightmares your father claims about seeing her dying in childbirth were perhaps even planted by the emperor himself. Perhaps if he’d felt he could be more candid without risking everything, things would’ve been easier.

“There’s one more thing I feel I should note while we’re all here…my son did continue the bloodline…and,” he took a deep breath, “his child—my grandchild—is…standing here with us.” He pointedly looked at you.

You stared back in open shock. You definitely hadn’t been expecting that. Luke turned to look at you, just as shocked. You couldn’t help but reach out to him for comfort, feeling the fabric of his jacket sleeve between your fingers as you gazed at a nearby tree, trying your best to process all the information.

Silence reigned for several minutes before Obi-wan interrupted with a hesitant, “Luke?”

Luke subtly slid his hand up so that his pinky finger wrapped around yours. The action nearly brought tears to your eyes, as it was the first return of physical affection you’d received in what felt like forever. “I just…” he started, then stopped, shaking his head. “You’ve been recommending that rule when you yourself couldn’t even hold to it…I feel a bit lied to, Obi-wan.”

“I’m sorry, Luke. Your friend here did give me her honest thoughts and it did give me a slightly new perspective. But you’re right, I should’ve been more forthcoming.”

“And to your own granddaughter,” Luke’s voice shook slightly on the last word as his finger tightened around yours.

“Yes…” Obi-wan turned to you. “I’m sorry. I was unsure how to reveal myself to you and didn’t want to confuse or upset either of you, so thought it would be best to keep some distance. But I see I have done that anyway and for that, I deeply apologize. But…yes, Y/N, you are a Kenobi. And Luke, I will support whatever you do or don’t decide to do with the new order. I trust your judgement and the two of you are both much wiser than I was at your ages. Whoever trains under either of you will be lucky to have you.” He sighed, turning back to his old pupil. “I sensed the turmoil in you, Luke, and just wanted to help, since I already lost your father to the dark side and didn’t want to risk losing you as well. But that is no excuse and I see I should’ve thought through my actions more beforehand. I am sorry.”

“I…I need some space to think,” Luke said before wrapping his whole hand around yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, and walking deeper into the forest. R2, who had been present and silently watching the entire conversation, began to follow him with a concerned beep. Luke placed a comforting hand on his dome. “It’s all right, R2, stay with Y/N.” You watched as the shadows of night swallowed him as he trekked deeper through the trees, leaving you and Obi-wan alone.

You sucked on your lip for a moment before turning your gaze to the man who was evidently your flesh and blood. “Well…um, hi, Grandpa.”

Obi-wan finally cracked a smile. “Hello there…I know I likely can’t say it enough, but I am sorry. Like I said, I was afraid of losing Luke to the dark side, but also afraid of watching you go through the same thing I did: the pain of losing someone you consider family and having to grieve them while they’re still alive.”

“I appreciate that…” You leaned against R2 as he whistled long and low. “But…I think the lessons from the past should be used to inform about the future—not cause fear that makes you run away from things and completely cut them off as options.”

“You truly are much wiser than I was at your age, and I am proud to call you my blood.” He paused, moving to clasp his hands in front of him so that the large flared sleeves hid them from view. “I think it might be best to give Luke some space until he feels comfortable summoning me again. If you are comfortable and feel you’re in need, however, please do not hesitate to summon me yourself if you feel the need.” He gazed at you for a moment before giving you another small smile. “I sense everything will be all right and as it should be with the two of you in time. Please, take good care of each other.” The ghost suddenly faded from view, his blue form scattering on the breeze like smoke before there was no trace of him left.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. R2 gently bumped your leg as you groaned. “Maker, R2, that was…so much.”

The droid beeped sadly next to you.

“We should probably check on Luke, then head back to the ship.”

You followed the path your friend had taken to find yourself deep in the woods, only the scant slivers of moon through the canopy and the fireflies there to light your way. You sensed Luke’s Force signature getting closer and closer, until you heard soft voices floating over to you. Glancing between several trees, you saw Luke sitting with another Force ghost you recognized as Anakin Skywalker. They were deep in conversation and Anakin put his hand on his son’s shoulder as you heard the name Padmé float towards you several times. You quietly turned, motioning for R2 to do the same before leading him back to the Redeemer.

You barely dragged yourself up the boarding ramp before flopping down onto the couch in the main hold. The lights were dim, and you took an opportunity to let your head thunk against the back of the cushions. It was almost three in the morning and you were exhausted (but likely nothing compared to your counterpart), but determined to make sure Luke returned okay and headed to bed. You closed your eyes for a moment only to feel R2’s retractable arm poking your leg, surprised to feel metal against your bare skin.

You stared at the droid in surprise as he continued to poke your leg with questioning little beeps. You looked down and groaned as you realized. “Oh, for kriff’s sake.” No wonder you’d gotten some funny looks: before storming after Luke, you’d completely forgotten to put on pants and had lectured everyone in Luke’s shirt and your underwear. Sweet Maker.

~***~

You bit your lip as you gripped the Redeemer’s controls. “Okay, help me out a bit here, R2.”

The droid tittered nervously from where he was plugged into a socket near the pilot’s chair. You looked nervously at the thick fog that enveloped the ship. You…sort of knew how to fly? You doubted you’d be much help in a firefight the way Luke would, but you could at least get from Point A to Point B—at least when Point B wasn’t covered in mist so opaque, you couldn’t see an inch out the viewport.

“Stupid kriffing flying,” you mumbled, “and stupid kriffing mysterious Force temple aesthetic.”

Normally, you would’ve relied on Luke for this sort of thing, but after returning from his talk with Anakin’s ghost, he’d crashed so hard, he hadn’t even noticed you quietly come into his room to check on him this morning. He was still sound asleep when you’d gently pulled his blanket to cover his feet, soft snores pouring from his open mouth, his limbs every which way, and his hair in complete disarray. It was likely the first good night’s sleep he’d gotten in days and you wouldn’t rob him of that. It was now eleven in the morning and he still hadn’t emerged from his room, so you figured you’d just go ahead and get the ship settled by the temple so all he had to worry about was waking up and stepping outside. But now you realized that might not have been the best idea.

Relax, you suddenly heard Obi-wan’s voice in your mind. Breathe. Drop your shoulders. Now feel the Force.

You did as bade, leaning so your back was flat against the seat and closing your eyes. You sank into the comforting feeling of life around you, sensing all the animals on the mountaintop scattering to the trees and bushes at the sound of your engines. You sensed a line of statues on either side of you and let the ship slowly sink down to the nearby ground with a gentle thunk. You opened your eyes and sighed in relief as you felt the landing legs of the shuttle settle into safe, sturdy ground.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see a bleary, pajama-clad Luke in the doorway rubbing one of his eyes with his fist. He hadn’t put his glove over his cybernetic, the hole exposing the wiring laid bare for you to see. The two of you had shared enough private (and sometimes embarrassing) moments that you were one of the few people he didn’t bother to hide it from.

“We’re at the temple.”

He frowned and you tried not to chuckle at how adorably confused he looked with his nightshirt, shorts, and bedhead. “You landed the ship in the fog?”

You half-jokingly pursed your lips at him. “Thanks.”

“No, I just meant—I didn’t—I mean, you’re definitely capable—”

You stood and gave Luke’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Why don’t you go get some breakfast so you can function while we’re in there?”

He nodded before turning and stumbling over to the small kitchenette he’d installed, giving R2 a friendly pat on the way and making tea for both of you like he always did. The past few days, you’d found your drink waiting on the counter with Luke nowhere in sight and couldn’t describe the relief that flooded through you when he did his usual routine of bringing it to where you sat at the table with a small smile and shoulder squeeze. You could still sense some confusion and worry in him and he was quieter than usual—but at least the little signs of affection were slowly starting to come back and he wasn’t avoiding you like the plague.

Once you were both ready (and more coherent), the two of you headed down the landing ramp with lightsabers ready at your hips and an astromech fast on your heels. Although neither of you had found a full-fledged temple in your travels, plenty of places that held Force artifacts also seemed to hold a large amount of ghosts, dangers, visions, and boobytraps. The mist was suddenly much easier to see through now that you had your feet on the ground, which could only be a result of the Force itself.

You followed an overgrown, cracked cobblestone path lined with statues that had been worn away by the weather. You could just make out shapes of what seemed to be different jedi of all races: some were so eroded, you couldn’t even tell what race they were anymore while others were missing limbs, heads, entire upper torsos, and the like. You glanced back at the ship to see you’d landed it perfectly in the middle of the path and couldn’t help feeling proud of yourself. You turned to see Luke glancing at you and chuckled as he sensed your thoughts through the Force.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” he said.

“I mean, I did a pretty good job.”

He gave you another soft laugh. “That you did.”

At the end of the path were some unstable concrete steps leading up into a dark, black pit of a doorway. Half of it’s old fashioned double doors hung crooked on its hinges while the other half lay flat on the floor. You could see the roof had holes in many places while some rooms had crumbling half walls with nothing to shield it from the outside, making you wonder whether the elements had wrecked this place or a battle had.

Luke held out a hand to help you up the steep, crumbling steps, keeping a tight grip on you until you stood at the mouth of the void. The two of you took a deep breath in unison before descending.

~***~

The relief flooding through you as Home One came into view was indescribable, and you could tell Luke felt the same way from the pilot seat next to you. You glanced at him as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting R2 take over. After several hours, you and Luke had managed to find the ancient jedi texts you were looking for inside the temple. Ironically, they had mentioned the no attachment rule themselves, but with a twist—categorizing them as a specific form of unhealthy possession instead of the encouraged healthy connection, just as Luke had described to Obi-wan. It seemed “no attachment” equating all potential relationships was added later. When you’d pointed this out to Luke as the two of you sat hunched over the old parchment, he’d merely nodded before moving on. But you could feel the conflict deep in him, as well as a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed it would take more than just a day or two off to undo.

Just as the Redeemer neared Home One’s hangar, Luke took the controls back over and expertly landed the ship in the bay. He kept his hands on the controls for a few moments and gazed out at the hustle and bustle in front of him, completely lost in thought.

After a few more minutes of this, you gently touched his arm. “Um…Luke? Are you all right?”

He startled before nodding. “Yes, sorry.” He unbuckled himself before standing with you and gesturing for you to go ahead of him. He hung back a few steps as you descended the boarding ramp and you felt your stomach twist as you sensed not all was right with him. Once your feet had hit the floor of the hangar, you turned to see your friend and his droid had stopped several steps up.

“Are you coming?” you asked, fearing the answer.

He hesitated, glancing behind you for a moment as Leia strode over to you from the other side of the bay. “I…think I need a few days to myself to work through everything. This was a lot to process, and I sense some important decisions about the new jedi order need to be made before moving forward.”

You sighed and let your shoulders sink, avoiding his gaze. You had hoped after everything that happened on Khofar, things would go back to the way they were before. Now, they were apparently in jeopardy all over again.

Sensing your turmoil, Luke descended the final few steps of the ramp to stand in front of you, putting gentle hands on your upper arms. “I will come back, I promise. I won’t just abandon you. I just want some time and space to myself to think and not be distracted by all the hustle and bustle of people through the Force.”

You fought the telltale burning of tears in your eyes. “But you’ve always taken me with you when you needed that before.”

“I know.” His own eyes reflected your sadness right back at you. “But you haven’t done anything wrong, and I promise this isn’t goodbye. I just need two or three days, then I’ll be right back. You have my word.”

“Luke!” Leia called with a smile as she got closer.

Luke raised his hand to wave before turning back to you. His eyes turned sad again as he gently wiped a tear away from your cheek you hadn’t realized escaped. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He hesitated, staring into your eyes for a moment with lips stretched thin, before taking your face between his hands and leaving a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

You tried not to cry even more as Leia finally caught up with you, wrapping her brother in a tight hug before looking at him in surprise. “You’re leaving again?” She glanced at you where you stood rigidly gripping your bag’s shoulder strap amidst the usual chaos of the hangar. “And Y/N isn’t going with you?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Luke said, trying to morph his face into something reassuring, but you could sense his own anxiety pouring through your connection. “Just two to three days.”

Leia glanced at you again before turning an almost scolding look on Luke, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jedi business?”

“Yes,” Luke said, quickly turning to go. You knew from past experience he was rushing to leave before Leia’s commanding tone made his resolve crumble. “I’ll have my comm on if there’s an emergency.”

And just like that, he and R2 disappeared into the ship. As the boarding ramp slowly closed, you had half a mind to jump in anyway and insist he take you with—but that wouldn’t have helped anything. And to be honest, after the experience of the last three days, you were much too exhausted to fight anymore.

You and Leia took several steps back as the Redeemer slowly rose up, turned, then sped out the hangar’s opening towards the darkness. You bit your lip to avoid a show of emotion in front of the princess—you’d never had to watch the ship you had come to know as home leave without you and it was jarring sight. Would your room ever feel the same again? Or would Luke decide he would honor the no attachment rule anyway, and your relationship would turn into something permanently cold, distant, and formal? Just two jedi who work together instead of two good friends. It didn’t help that he hadn’t given you any indication which way he was leaning.

“Okay,” Leia turned to you, arms still crossed over her chest and her brow stern. “Now what’s really going on?”

You finally met her eyes, unable to hold back the tears anymore as you continued to suck on your lip.

Leia’s fiery resolve crumbled and she immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, what’s going on?” Some annoyance reentered her gaze. “What did my brother do?”

“Um,” you warbled, wiping some tears away with your sleeve as they fell down your face, “it’s a long story.”

Leia gently rubbed your back. “Well, it’s time for dinner.” She started gently leading you towards the back doors. “Why don’t we both order some food to my quarters and you can tell me all about it? See if I can help?”

You merely nodded, desperate for comfort as you leaned into Leia’s embrace. Once at her quarters sat in front of a healthy smattering of food, you tearfully told her everything. When you got to the part about Obi-wan’s bad advice, she groaned with a sweet Maker, staring at you in shock when you revealed he’d told you that you were also a Kenobi. She sighed and face palmed again at some of her brother’s actions and ended the story with a look on her face that was so annoyed, you knew that look alone would’ve shut the entire problem building over the last several days down in seconds. She tried to reassure you that Luke didn’t have it in him to leave you as the two of you ate, but you could sense her own frustration and worry through the Force.

After eating, you used her attached refresher to wash up, cry for a few minutes in private, and splash some water on your face so you weren’t a spectacle walking back to your own quarters—which hadn’t been used in months with how often you’d been out and about with Luke on the Redeemer. You realized you’d come to think of that set of quarters as your room much more than the one here on Home One and the thought almost made you cry again. You sniffled before sighing and doing your best to keep it together long enough to say goodbye to Leia and walk towards your own bed.

As you reentered the main area of the princess’s apartments, you found them empty, but could hear her voice floating from a side room. You quietly made your way forward to see her in a small den, sitting agitated, straight backed on the edge of a chair with a comm close to her mouth. You couldn’t make out the words, but heard Luke’s voice float through the comm back to her and it felt like your heart twisted and dropped into your stomach at the sound.

“Luke, you know I love you and I understand the immense pressure you’re under,” Leia replied, her voice quiet but still filled with a firm sharpness that brooked no room for argument, “but you need to get it together—”

You quickly escorted yourself out, your speed walking just a step down from running towards your room as you kept your head trained on your feet. The burning in your eyes was building again and you felt your chest constrict the closer you got to the familiar, but lately unused bedroom door, and couldn’t help reliving that feeling of a tomb door booming closed between you and Luke, sealing your fates.

~~~~

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[macabre-mangled]

Love Like Wolves

OBI-WAN KENOBI X READER (gender neutral)

WARNINGS: canon typical violence and innuendos, insecurity (on readers end), brief mention of small age gap

SUMMARY: Obi-Wan assures you you're his despite it being secret

A/N: hot dilf. I also don't proofread my writing so deal with it lmao

Satine was gorgeous. You'd admit that. She also was so kind which made it hard when she was clearly showing interest in your lover. Obi-Wan wasn't flirting back by any means, but that didn't stop the hands of that ugly feeling to take hold of your brain. You of course masked it with the force, knowing that he could sense it otherwise. He could definitely tell something was wrong, but didn't have any idea what. You excused yourself to go and lick your wounds like a cowardly youngling. If Obi-wan was concerned he didn't voice it.

In our quarters you didn't find much peace either. in fact you had been pacing, your lightsaber clinking in its holster as you did. You know Obi-Wan would never be disloyal despite no one knowing about you two. He's not the type. However; it also means he can't publicly claim you. Maker, you sound so primitive. Is that really what we are in the end? Just like animals? Are you the same as a loth wolf? They mate for life. Does Obi view you as his life partner? All These thoughts swarmed your head like wasps. Obi was older than you, surely he's smart enough to not throw away a good thing. At least you hoped so.

"They're a good catch, Master Kenobi."

saltines eyes glittered as she spoke, A knowing glint in her eyes. Obi took notice and looked around in panic.

"Relax, I will not speak of it to anyone."

"If I may ask; how did you know?"

Obi-Wan didn't think he was THAT obvious. Or was he? Maker, he hopes not.

"The way you look at them. Its not obvious, but if someone knows where to look they can tell. Now, I will be taking my leave."

He watches Satine go. He surely hopes no one heard their conversation. Maker knows how much trouble he'd be in if the council found out. he wouldn't be able to take it if they took you from him. You're his light in the dark. He NEEDS you. Although now he's picking up on your distress. How did he not notice before? He starts off towards your quarters. He knows how you get. He just hopes you'll be in the mood to let him calm you down.

Upon his arrival he knocks twice then three times; the secret knock you two have. When you open the door he's greeted with your glare. Oh maker, what did he do? He doesn't recall doing anything. Your strained voice startles him out of his reverie.

"How's Satine? You two have fun making eyes at each other?"

Your tone gave away your emotions, something Jedi are not supposed to do. But right now you didn't care. Realization hit Obi-Wan's face.

"Darling, we weren't doing anything of that sort. Satine knows about us."

He calmly said in something just above a whisper as he slowly moved to cradle you in his arms. You let your shoulders fall. you knew this was ridiculous. Of course he wouldn't. You knew that, but maker that feeling took you by the horns. So you gathered all your courage to ask him the one question you had in the back of your mind.

"Do you see me as a life partner? Like would you marry me if you could?"

If he hadn't been right next to you he wouldn't have heard it. But he did and it made his heart ache how small you sounded. He knew you had insecurities, but never had he heard you sound so unsure. The answer was obvious he thought.

"Of course my darling, It's only you. We're bonded like loth wolves. Nothing or anyone will change that."

You snuggled closer to him at his words but his hand held you softly by the chin to look into his eyes. His eyes held an unspoken question and yours held the answer.

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

Worth the Risk: Chapter II - After

Chapter Summary: The Clone Wars are almost over, everyone can feel it. But something sinister is happening. Forces stronger than you are reaching their hands for Anakin. Can you save him in time? Or will you unwillingly help bring ruin to the whole galaxy?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker/Reader

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda (only mentioned), Mace Windu (only mentioned), Ahsoka Tano (only mentioned), Rex, Sketcher, Shaak Ti, Count Dooku, Sheev Palpatine, Grievous (only mentioned), Padmé Amidala (only mentioned)

Word Count: 3562

A/N: Usually, I write fanfictions for female reader. But to be honest, I'm not sure if in this one it's said anywhere. So, for now I'm marking this as other, but if you see if it's said anywhere, please, let me know. This gif isn't my either. And there is a dialogue from "Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith". Enjoy!

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

@astro-kitty-launch

Somehow, you and Anakin make this secret relationship work. Of course, the Clones are a big help. Sometimes, you think they're more excited about it than you. You can't tell how many times they've saved you from being discovered by someone. You fear one day you're going to get a heart attack. But it's worth it. Oh, so much.

Every time you and Skywalker have a moment alone, your heart is soaring. It's not always about physical contact, it's also about being with each other without hiding your feelings. It's surprisingly freeing. And it makes you happy. And Anakin as well. You don't think you've ever seen him smile like that like when he's with you and he lets his emotions show. You love that. You love that smile, the fact you can make him this happy… You love him.

Skywalker has the same. He also notices you're happier when you two are together. Whenever he makes you laugh, he can't stop grinning, because it's him that caused that laugh. You're more relaxed and peaceful, too. And that smile when your eyes are shining… he'd do anything to protect that smile. He's head over heels for you and he knows it. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

The day you two go further is perfect. He's the perfect gentleman, making sure you're certain about it. He's soft and caring, afraid of hurting you. You keep assuring him you're fine and give him everything you have, same as he. You also care about his comfort. You lay in each other's arms for a long time after that.

You're also a big emotional support to each other. When one comes back from a hard mission, the other is there for them. Sometimes to distract, other times just simply being.

One time you're both on such hard mission. When you arrive back to the Jedi Temple, you sneak out to a secluded place in a garden. You talk about it quietly, holding hands.

Obi-Wan looks for you, worried about you, as he's been briefed about what happened. Your former Master can't be here for you, as she's on Kamino, so he wants to comfort both his former Padawan and you. But how is he supposed to do that, when you're nowhere to be found?

Finally, he finds himself in a garden. It's a pure accident he turns into the hidden alley you and Anakin are sitting in. He sighs, relieved to finally succeed. He heads your way. He opens his mouth to let you know about his presence, but he notices your entwined hands. He stops and frowns. He observes Skywalker tracing your knuckles with his thumb. Then, you lay your head on his shoulder and he gently lays his head on yours.

'Oh, Maker,' Obi-Wan sighs quietly and retreats. He quickly finds himself on the corridors of the Temple. Soon he comes across Rex and Sketcher. They both seem to be looking for something. They're whispering nervously and glancing around. Kenobi frowns. Now that he thinks about it, the Clones from your legions often seemed to make him busy and they only stopped when you and Anakin showed up… with flushed faces.

'General!' they both say, saluting, once he gets close to them. He stops and crosses his arms. He observes them with narrowed eyes. They're perfectly calm.

'So how long has it been going on?' he asks. '[Y/N] and Anakin.'

'What do you mean, sir?' Sketcher asks, not showing any sign of worry.

'I've tried to ignore what I sensed from them,' Obi-Wan says. 'I trusted they're both responsible enough not to… indulge. But I can't say the same after I saw them just know, being closer to each other than two Jedi should ever be.'

Sketcher and Rex are quiet. How to get out of this one? They can't rat you out. But they know there's no lying to Kenobi now. Suddenly, the Jedi sighs.

'I'm not going to get them into trouble,' he promises. 'I just want to know when this started, because… I've noticed some change in them lately. And I wonder if that's the reason. So tell me. Would it be more or less when you locked them in that storage closet?'

The Clones look at each other, uncomfortable. Obi-Wan sighs and pinches his nose.

'And you've all been covering for them,' he says and looks behind himself. 'Well… Like I said, I won't tell.'

'Uh… with all due respect… but why, sir?' Rex asks. 'It's against your code.'

'Because we're at war,' Kenobi answers, looking back at his companions with a sad smile. 'And they're still kids. They deserve some happiness. I trust them not to do something stupid because of their feelings. Well, at least I trust [Y/N]. And that she will stop Anakin from doing it.'

The Clones chuckle. The Jedi winks at them. He puts his finger to his lips.

'Don't tell them I know,' he says. They nod seriously and Obi-Wan walks away.

'So… what now?' Sketcher asks after a moment passes.

'We continue hiding them from others,' Rex answers and marches away. Sketcher sighs, troubled, and follows him. To be honest, what else can they do?

*

Dooku and Grievous have kidnapped Palpatine. You, Anakin and Obi-Wan are sent to rescue him. If it were up to you, you'd let them have him, as you distrust the Chancellor and don't like him. He gives you bad feelings. But it's not, so you follow orders.

At some point, you get separated from your friends. When you finally reach them, annoyed because you had to fight with many droids to get here, you're surprised to find Kenobi unconscious. But before you can rush to him, you see Skywalker holding Dooku at blade point with both his own lightsaber and the Count's.

'Kill him,' Palpatine says, shocking you. 'Kill him now!'

'I shouldn't…' the Jedi says, hesitating.

'Do it!' the Chancellor urges him.

'Anakin,' you quickly speak up, letting others know about your presence. You think you see Palpatine grimacing, but it's so quick you're not sure. Skywalker glances at you.

'[Y/N],' he says.

'You beat him,' you say and smile. 'Well done. I knew you could do it.'

He smiles back. You walk slowly to him. You ignore Palpatine and look at Dooku. He eyes you warily. He wants to glare at you, but realizes you might have just saved his life.

'I got it,' you say quietly to your lover. 'You free the Chancellor and help Obi-Wan. Not necessarily in that order.'

Anakin chuckles and shakes his head. He frees Palpatine and rushes to his former master. You can sense the Chancellor's gaze on you. But quickly he follows Skywalker, talking to him quietly. You don't like that, but you can't take your eyes off Dooku… who has no hands. Oh, Maker…

'I don't suppose you'd like to collaborate?' you ask.

'On the contrary,' the Count denies. 'I am going to fully cooperate.'

'Huh? Why?' you ask, stunned. Anger flashes in his eyes.

'Revenge,' he spats out. Okaaaay… you don't want to be the person that wronged him so much he's ready to cooperate with you.

'Get up,' you say, as he's on his knees. He stands up and calmly walks before you. Anakin carries Obi-Wan on his back and you attempt to escape. You're barely caught by Grievous, but you manage to escape, with now awake Kenobi.

Back at Coruscant, you're all praised for your heroics, especially Skywalker. But once everyone leaves him be and Dooku is taken away, he takes you with him to a secluded place. He's very worried.

'I almost killed him,' he says at once. 'An unarmed man. If you haven't had come…'

'But I did,' you say, quickly cupping his face. 'And it's not you. I've heard Palpatine urging you.'

'He just… he feared Dooku is too dangerous to be kept alive,' Anakin defends the Chancellor. You sigh. They're friends and it's hard to say a word against Palpatine to Skywalker.

'I know you two are close,' you say. 'But that makes you unable to see his flaws. And trust me, there are many. One of them is him urging you to kill someone, even though he's well aware it's against your principles and well, simply wrong.'

'You don't understand,' Anakin says angrily, pulling away from you. 'The Chancellor wants the best for the galaxy. He has a huge responsibility.'

'But he has no right to decide who lives and who dies,' you argue. Skywalker wants to fight about it. But decides against it. He just huffs and marches away. You call after him, but he doesn't stop.

Not long after you hear that Dooku has somehow escaped. Anakin is angry and blames himself. You know he believes he should have killed him when he had a chance. This urges you to find the Count before he does.

Every Jedi on the planet is looking for him. But somehow no one is able to find him. Suddenly, as if the Force has nudged you in the right direction, you remember what happened when you captured him. Dooku has promised to cooperate, yes. But he also said it's because he wants revenge. And a moment before it was Palpatine who urged Anakin to kill the Count…

Anxious, you rush to the building of the Senate. You maneuver your way to the Chancellor's office. His security is dead. You burst inside and you see Dooku, with cybernetic hands, on his knees. Palpatine is a bit away. He looks at you with relief (which seems fake to you, but okay).

'Master Jedi, how good,' he says. 'He… he tried to kill me. Please...'

You eye the Chancellor. Because you can't explain how did he manage to bring the Count on his knees. Unless…

'Don't believe a word he says,' Dooku says, breathing heavily, and looks you in the eyes. 'He's the Sith Lord you've been looking for.'

A cold shiver runs down your spine. Palpatine chuckles, amused at the suggestion. Or trying to sound like that. But his laugh dies down, when he sees the way you look at him.

'You don't believe him, [Y/N], do you?' he asks. Oh, his tone. So patronizing. He always talks to you like that and it annoys you to no end.

'Actually, that makes a perfect sense,' you answer, slowly grabbing your lightsaber and lightning it. 'To be honest, I've never trusted you. And I had my suspicions. But I had no way to be sure. Nor to prove it.'

'I see,' Palpatine says and suddenly his face twists. 'So be it.'

He's so fast you barely manage to block his attack when he jumps at you. The fight begins and you quickly realize you're way over your head. You're powerful, yes. But still young and not experienced. You don't give up, but you fear that if help doesn't arrive, you're going to die. You can already see Palpatine blaming Dooku for your death. No one will know the truth. So you push on, determined not to let the Sith win.

But suddenly your lightsaber is knocked out of your hand. Palpatine starts choking you with the Force and lifts you up. You try to use the Force to stop him, but he's stronger than you.

'I must thank you,' he says, smiling sinisterly. 'Your death will be the thing that pushes Anakin over to the Dark Side.'

You look at him with alarm, finally understanding. For years, the Chancellor has been grooming your lover as his apprentice. Killing Dooku was supposed to be another step. You stopped it. But now you may bring it to come after all.

'No…' you wheeze, your eyes watering. Palpatine smiles sinisterly. You feel the life escaping you.

But suddenly, the Sith is thrust against the wall. His hold on you is lost and you fall on the ground, gasping for breath. When you look up, you're shocked to see Anakin in the room, glaring with fury at the Chancellor.

'I thought you're my friend!' he shouts, feeling betrayed.

'I am,' Palpatine quickly says, lifting himself up. 'I am, Anakin. I'm your only true friend. Join me, Anakin. Together we will achieve peace. Only I see your power. Only I truly value you.'

'Not only you,' Skywalker says after a moment, looking at you. Relief fills you. In that moment you understand that Palpatine has lost his chance with his attempt on your life. Anakin will never join him now.

The Jedi lights his weapon and charges at the Sith. They quickly begin fighting. You're surprised how matched they are. Maybe because Skywalker is angry. It worries you, but you know there's no point in calming him down now. So, you try to regain your strength as you watch him duel Palpatine… and finally winning.

'Anakin…' you say quietly, as Skywalker holds his lightsaber to the Chancellor's neck. 'Don't let him win.'

'But if he lives…' the Jedi starts.

'And if you kill him, this will hunt you forever,' you say gently. 'He was your friends. Or at least you believed that. Don't go this path.'

Anakin hesitates. But you see him lowering his weapon. You exhale, relieved.

'Pardon me,' Dooku says, suddenly showing up behind Palpatine. 'But since I'm already on the Dark Side…'

He takes a swing with Chancellor's lightsaber and cuts off his head. Skywalker moves aways, shocked. The Sith Lord's body falls on the ground. You stare at it with wide eyes.

'Well, at least it's certain he won't suddenly show up,' you say weakly. 'There's no way he survived that.'

Hearing your voice seems to wake up Anakin. At once he's at your side and falls on his knees. He takes you in his arms and holds you tight, his body shaking. Yours is shaking as well. You hold on to him, so happy you're both alive and well.

'It's over,' Skywalker murmurs. 'It's finally over.'

'There's still-' you start.

'No,' Anakin interrupts you. 'It's over. It's over…'

You decide to go with it for now and close your eyes. Skywalker presses a kiss to your head and you sit like that for a long time. Watched by Dooku, who's just standing there awkwardly, not wanting to ruin the moment for you two, but also wanting to escape.

Some time later, Obi-Wan and Shaak Ti rush through the corridors of the senate building. They burst into Palpatine's office. Their eyes quickly find you and Anakin, still on the floor, still hugging. Your former masters exhale with relief. They look at each other and exchange a knowing smile. Looks like they were right to let your love bloom.

*

The war is over. Obi-Wan has captured Grievous and the Separatists' leaders where captured. Some were shocked about the identity of the Sith Lord, some didn't believe you, but all was resolved. Dooku has escaped after giving his statement about Palpatine. For some reason, the search for him is no longer so frantic. Your actions grant you and Anakin the ranks of Masters in the Council. Except…

'You want to leave?' you ask your lover one night in the garden. He has asked you to meet him here.

'We've brought peace to the Galaxy,' he says. 'I've done what they wanted. What was expected from me. Now… I want to do what I want. For the first time in my life.'

'And that is…?' you ask hesitantly. He cups your face and looks you in the eyes.

'Being with you,' he answers. 'In the open. Living a life. Together.'

'You've always wanted to be granted the rank of the Master, though,' you point out, even though his words fill you with joy.

'But then I've found out you feel the same,' Skywalker says, smiling. You can't help but respond in kind.

'However, I know how important being a Jedi is for you,' he says, slowly backing away. 'So-'

You shut him up by kissing him. He quickly pulls you closer and answers.

'Let's do it,' you whisper. He beams at you and kisses you again. And again. Boy, how you love when he kisses you…

The Council is surprised by your decision, of course (except for Obi-Wan, Yoda and Shaak Ti). They try to persuade you to change your minds. You don't budge. Ahsoka understands your decision and is thrilled by it, to be honest. She's shipped you two as well. Soon enough she's helping you, together with Padmé, to find an apartment.

Once you choose one and settle in, you throw up a party. You invite everyone you know. The Clones are enough to make it hard to move around, but by some miracle everyone fits in. It's a huge success and almost everyone stays until bright morning. Your closes friends even stay to help you clean after the party. When even they're out, all that is left for you and Anakin, is to put back the dishes.

'I'm honestly surprised how many people have showed up,' your boyfriend says.

'I know,' you agree. 'Even the Jedi Masters were here.'

'Yeah, even Master Windu, which's honestly shocking,' Skywalker says. 'I was stunned into silence when I saw him.'

'I had the same with Master Yoda,' you chuckle. 'Still, it was very nice of them to come. And support us with our decision.'

Anakin hums in agreement. You look at him.

'Though I think Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are really going to miss you,' you say.

'I think they're going to miss you more,' Skywalker chuckles. You give him a look. He sighs.

'I guess,' he admits. 'Obi-Wan didn't want to let go of me, when he was leaving. But it's not like we're not going to see each other. I'm sure they're going to visit us often. And we will drop by the Temple.'

'Oh, I can imagine you walking into the Temple straight from your work as a mechanic, greasy clothes and all, coming across the Council,' you laugh.

'Ha, I can almost see Master Windu's disapproving looks,' your boyfriend chuckles. 'Speaking of work… have you finally decided on something?'

'No, but I'd like to remind you that I had no life before I was a Jedi,' you answer. 'Being a Jedi is all I know. All I ever was. I have to figure out who I am without it first.'

Anakin takes your hand in his. He smiles at you.

'Don't worry, we have all the time in the world,' he says. You smile back. He winks at you.

You're done with the dishes, so you get ready for sleep. It may be morning already, but you're both exhausted. First preparations for the party, then the party itself. You take a quick shower and go to your shared bedroom. Anakin has showered first, so he's already in bed and he's lowered down the blinds, so it's as dark in the room as if it was a night.

'Ready, Chosen One?' you ask, untangling your wet hair with your hand. Skywalker rolls his eyes.

'Stop calling me that,' he asks.

'Hey, you are one,' you remind him, getting under the covers with him. 'You brought back balance, defeated the Sith, saved everyone.'

'Maybe, but you saved me,' your boyfriend says softly and looks you in the eyes. 'First you stopped me from killing Dooku, then from killing Palpatine. If you hadn't… maybe I wouldn't have been able to free myself from the Dark Side.'

'Luckily, we will never have to find out,' you say, squeezing his hand and smiling. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He presses a kiss to it.

'I'm so glad we've decided to give us a try,' he says and reaches out to cup your face. 'You are the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

'And you are mine,' you say, touching his forehead with yours. After a moment you both move your faces and your lips join in a sweet kiss.

'I love you, [Y/N],' he whispers when you pull away.

'I love you, Anakin,' you whisper at the same time. You look at each other and laugh.

'Whatever happens next… I'm glad to have you by my side,' your boyfriend says. You hum with a nod and you both lay down. You put your head on Skywalker's chest.

'It's weird,' you say. 'For the past three years it was living from battle to battle. It was horrible, but at least I knew what's coming. And now… it's a big unknown.'

'It's definitely going to be difficult,' Anakin agrees. 'But we'll manage. We've succeeded in defeating the Sith Lord. Nothing is worse nor harder than that.'

'Except for taxes,' you point out. Skywalker's face falls.

'Except for taxes,' he agrees. 'But we'll do. Somehow…'

You hum and close your eyes. You don't want to think about it now.

'Goodnight,' you say.

'Goodnight,' your boyfriend says. You sense him looking at you with a wide smile.

'What is it?' you ask.

'I can do that every night now,' he explains, hugging you tightly. 'Until death do us part.'

'We're not married yet,' you yawn.

'Yet?' Anakin asks, grinning.

'Oh, shut up Skywalker.'

'Make me, [L/N].'

'Maybe I will.'

'I definitely wouldn't mind. But then we won't sleep at all.'

'That may be true… I love you.'

'And I love you. Forever and always.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day! I hope you enjoyed this little story. See you in the next fanfiction!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898226/chapters/136425739

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 8: Blackened Water (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: graphic descriptions of migraines, mention of sleeplessness/loss of appetite, self-sacrifice (if ya squint), angst, fluff, banter, descriptions of violence.

Summary: It had been two weeks since you arrived on Coruscant when The Chosen One invited you to join him in an impromptu Starfighter piloting session. After reminiscing about the weeks prior, you, Anakin, Ahsoka, and R2-D2 decide to transform the lesson into a game. However, you are quick to learn that pushing this ship to its limit was sure to have unintended complications.

Song Inspo: Migraine — Twenty One Pilots

Words: 6k

A/n: Looks like things are about to get complicated... please comment/pm if you'd like to be on the Taglist! And lmk your thoughts on this chapter :)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

So much like the moon, we show the world only one and veil our many faces, even from the sun — Jason Versey

“It’s not that I don’t want to learn how to pilot a Starfighter, I’m just not sure if I want to learn from you.”

You spoke forcefully into the comlink headset, its rounded, copper microphone hovering inches from quarrelsome lips. You were currently situated in a Republic Starfighter’s Co-Pilot Forward Gunner’s cockpit, and its rushing drone was creating a deafening habitat that drove you to raise your voice had you any hope of communicating with Anakin, Ahsoka, or Anakin’s droid companion R2-D2 at any point during this flight. Still, the boundless rush failed to block you from continuing your exploration of the fighter’s gunnery controls, spelled out by the glaring interactive screen nestled in the jutted crook to your right.

“I’ll have you know that I’m the best pilot the Jedi have, if not, the Galaxy,” Anakin defended, his mechanically muffled voice crackling into your earpiece while he directed the fighter’s acceleration around Coruscant’s curvature.

You flexed a doubtful brow at his cockiness, despite his inability to see you from the main pilot’s cockpit stationed a meter ahead, just before the bird’s nose.

“Weren’t you the one who crash-landed that shuttle on Hoth in the first place?” You challenged.

“They’ve got you there,” Ahsoka piped up, the young voice spluttering through your headset from her perch in the tail gunner’s pit directly behind.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he huffed.

You shook your head at the exchange, levity conquering facial muscles that usually endured some semblance of placidity as you carried on with your analysis of the ship’s offensive capabilities.

In the seconds that followed, a brief silence unfolded across the fighter’s private comms channel, though that didn’t deter you from continuing to tap away at the informative screen just below your fingertips. Needless to say, despite focusing your mind on canons and proton torpedo launcher specifications, the prolonged lull in conversation streamlined your thoughts into deeper ruminations as your evolving muscle memory assumed control.

It had been nearly two weeks since your arrival on Coruscant, and you were finding that you had a knack for acclimating quickly to the drastically contrasting environment. The warmer weather, busier urban environment, and abundance of Jedi-specific resources were quite the staggering changes from your meager, solitary existence among boundless blizzards and bloodthirsty beasts.

So, it didn’t take much convincing to welcome the transition with open arms.

You were still settling in, so, rationally, you recognized that you weren’t as versed in the Jedi Temple’s daily happenings as its more veteran residents. However, from the behavior you observed alone, you could still tell that time dragged far more gradually than the status quo, even when compared to the beginning few days of your arrival.

At first, you noticed that meetings among the Jedi Council had become less frequent. There was little to discuss while they awaited news from Temple technicians who, sector-by-sector, continued their analysis of each minutia of the Jedi’s expansive communications array. And when they did convene, it was usually due to handfuls of temporarily visiting clones, dispatched from their units to deliver on-the-ground intelligence directly to assigned generals who would then liaise any necessary information to the Council for further instructions.

Generals, you sighed inwardly. The taste of that word being used to describe Jedi was still akin to the tangy expiration of blue milk. A sign of the times, you supposed. So, again, you pushed that thought away.

You continued your recollection, even harking back to that strange, incongruous feeling that overcame your senses when you spotted your first set of clones. Rationally, you knew what to expect. Beings that looked exactly like each other in most, if not every conceivable way. Though, despite that assumption, you’d found that even in the briefest of interactions, these clones seemed to be some of the most diverse and spirited individuals you’d ever met.

Sure, you hadn’t chanced upon that many beings in your lifetime. But of the few troopers you did encounter, they certainly stood in stark contrast against that backdrop of Coruscanti civilians and Jedi from your recent past.

They were dedicated to their craft and their generals, drove into the depths of battle without the protection of the Force, and supported each other like true brothers in arms.

And with all your being, you commended that.

Maybe that’s why you were looking forward to meeting more of their comrades and discovering how their relationship with the Jedi Order came to be. You could only learn so much from those few, fleeting conversations in a passing walkway. Especially because their presence was always so short-lived.

Once a new directive was assigned by the Council, the visiting batches were soon whisked away, once again into the strange, galaxy-wide relay race in the name of secure communications while the Council melted back into their brief slumber. You supposed it was the natural consequence of the Republic Army’s temporary reliance on snail mail, but it was all still so strange nonetheless.

You had to admit, though, that things had begun to pick up in the last week. You remembered hearing passively from a congregation of Masters moving through a large hall one afternoon, that a smattering of Jedi had been sent out alongside the most recent collection of clone drop-ins. Some of those named individuals returned after a few days, having spotted them in the Archives, a refractory, or even conversing with Master Windu.

But the ones you didn’t see again?

You could only assume that they were continuing to traverse the Galaxy on some unknown mission in the name of peace.

But word of mouth was not your only source of information regarding the curbed release of Jedi back to the Front. You had, at times, happened to see it for yourself. Like just the other day, when passing by one of the Temple’s main hangars on the way to another sparring session with Anakin. Just by chance, out of the corner of your eye, you’d caught a pair of Jedi preparing to depart alone. There was no clone in sight by their powered-up Nu-class attack shuttle, red and white markings trailing its spine as it gaily awaited the two passengers conversing lowly at the bottom of the boarding ramp. You remembered it was a duo of black-robbed, green-tinted Mirialans— Master and Padawan, their relative ages suggested. Off to another untold destination, but, this time, without a crew of troopers.

You recalled thinking at that moment: maybe the Council has grown more agreeable with the concept of dispatching Jedi alone to temporary assignments?

Then again, their sudden departure might have had more to do with the need to immediately transmit vital information to a distant battalion than anything else.

Either way, it was all a guess. You had learned fairly quickly in your time at the Temple that The Council considered most wartime information as need-to-know. Even Master Windu, in the few times you’d met with him, was reticent to share any news with you that didn’t directly concern your being.

At any rate, those instances of strategic departures were rare, leaving many Jedi to find a way to occupy themselves during this involuntary downtime.

You, personally, were utilizing this time the best way you could— as an opportunity to address the persistent migraines that’d been plaguing you for the past week and a half.

Even in the cockpit of a Starfighter, thousands of kilometers away from Coruscant’s golden inscriptions, you could still recall it all so perfectly.

They would start off imperceptibly stunted, pecking away at your senses so gently that you’d barely notice their presence until the draining aches inflamed into pounding thumps deep at the core of your brainstem.

The worst part was that you never knew when they were going to strike next. It was just all so…sporadic.

They’d crawl into your sinuses during early afternoon drills, nibbling at your attention mere minutes into attempting a particularly complicated, defensive acrobatic which would accordingly backfire from the ordeal’s impetuosity. Other times, it was in the evening, usually erupting in your skull halfway through supper, and, often, smack dab in the middle of a sentence aimed at one of the three Jedi who’d whisked you away from Hoth weeks ago.

Naturally, regardless of your hope to learn more about The Chosen One, his former Master, and Padawan during these times, this strange affliction’s consequences would routinely cut such moments short. The second that distinctive, rising thunder would rumble, you were pressed to conjure up some excuse to retire early, leaving most of your plain meal uneaten from the unexpected loss of appetite in each premature retreat to your quarters.

In addition to coping with the persistently tugging weights chained to the back of your eyeballs, you were, to the best of your ability, trying to keep its effects as discreet as possible. You’d keep your signature muted and expression neutral as the warning signs of an impending strike encroached on your senses, removing yourself from whichever training, social, or study activity may have fanned its flames.

But despite it all, these considerations were not enough to deter the occasional wisp of care that would flutter from Ahsoka’s brows following your early conclusion of a joint study session. Or the flare of worry that would spurt behind Anakin’s fiery eyes after you ended a spar prematurely, hand cradling your forehead the moment you’d retreated from his line of vision.

Your efforts to obscure any reflection of pain especially did little to dissuade the concern that rippled across Obi-Wan’s features last night, when in the middle of a teasing escapade with Anakin, your brilliant grin faltered into a thin, immutable line as a sudden spear to the base of your skull compelled you to briskly break off from the group before the impartial expression you strained to support wavered.

Discerningly, you understood that despite your efforts, the three of them knew something was transpiring. Still, you were confident enough that your exercise in representing these headaches as sudden fatigue would present these moments as too bland to warrant serious discussion.

You wanted, no, needed to keep any sense of severity to a minimum. You’d spent the last decade alone on a lethal, ice planet, your entire life being the sum experience of staring down danger’s sharpest teeth and shaving them blunt by yourself. All in all, you’d certainly dealt with threats far greater than the danger of a persistent set of migraines, you joked inwardly. So you knew that, with time, you’d figure out how to trim away this roadblock too.

And without involving The Chosen One.

You thought back to your first working theory of the issue, that your body was still adapting to its changed environment. Even though you felt energized by this new planet’s radiant sunlight, the heat could have still affected you more than you first realized. But even with this, you understood that only time would tell.

In the interim, you found it unnecessary to worry your Jedi acquaintances. They had no need for knowledge of your sleepless nights, fueled by mushrooming, stings bursting behind your forehead. Shattering you awake in a puddle of strenuous sweat and breathless utterances that disheveled your sheets.

“Just go away already,” you huffed one early morning.

You were The Guardian after all. Tasked with protecting The Chosen One. Roping in others to aid you in your own, comparably minuscule toils would have stood in quiet opposition to your title’s purpose.

Yes. You were convinced. You’d find a solution some other way.

Anyways, addressing your mind’s inner facets was only a small strand in the meadow of free time that had laid at your fingertips. You also took an appreciable advantage of the interim to explore your new home— The Jedi Temple.

You recalled finding it somewhat overwhelming, the Temple’s colossal model, constructed piece-by-piece over thousands of years with the building blocks of Jedi evolution and spirituality. But, in spite of its sweeping presence, you felt uninhibited to tour each nook and cranny like the labyrinth it was.

You’d encountered many Jedi this way, all in various training dojos, halls, gardens, and other, more secluded, areas as they too took advantage of the passing days to train, meditate, or study. It was actually how you, twice, inadvertently ran into Anakin and Ahsoka, during these cursory, investigative stints. Once, while they were in the midst of a spar, and the other, amid one of Anakin’s on-the-fly lessons about the reality of the battlefield.

Sitting here in this rumbling, Starfighter’s primary gunner cockpit, you had to admit that you were really delighted when you saw them like this. Working as Master and Padawan in their own, unique way. It proved to you that Anakin was taking his Mastership more seriously.

You remembered how he’d expressed to you his hesitancy with being assigned a Padawan last week as the two of you strolled down one of the Temple’s many walkways in search of an empty training room. Though you were not surprised, as it was something that you already learned from Obi-Wan, who had complained about this very issue to you over one of your evening meals. A plate of hawk-bat eggs, if you recalled correctly. He cited to you the young Jedi’s reluctance to attend several of Ahsoka’s training remote sessions, which, according to Master Kenobi, was an important, reoccurring exercise prescribed to all Padawans.

Separately, you’d happened to already know how the Jedi Order historically drove responsibility into its members. It was not just via off-world missions or Knighthood trials, but through the combined experience of guiding the young with one’s own expertise. Qui-Gon often mentioned how his mentorship years morphed him into the wise and capable man you’d known him to be. And you didn’t believe either that Anakin was immune to such windows into maturity.

So, at that moment, with the protesting, chestnut-haired Jedi strolling inches from your side, you were sure to remind the irresolute man that they wouldn’t have given him that duty had they not believed him to be ready.

“Now you’re starting to sound like Obi-Wan.” He huffed, crossing his arms as you both continued your brisk saunter. “I’m just not meant to have a Padawan!”

You eyed the insistent Jedi soberly. “Anakin, I’ll tell you one thing. For someone who I know hopes to grow as a Jedi, you certainly seem to tie your own feet together when the perfect opportunities to do so present themselves.”

That conversation must’ve knocked a bolt loose in that rigid mind of his, you supposed, after seeing with your own eyes his efforts to do more as her Master in the days that followed.

And that included today. In this bulky, ARC-170 Starfighter. The inspiration for Anakin’s decision to kill two buzzbirds with one stone.

After admitting to your limited, hands-on piloting experience over that same dinner you’d ended early the night before, Anakin posed the brilliant idea of teaching you himself. A proposition you’d have had better luck turning down had he not already been planning to take Ahsoka out into the exosphere to deliver his own set of ad-hoc tutorials.

If you could even call it that.

According to him, all he had to do was reserve a different Starfighter class and the three of you would be good to go. So, you accepted, hoping all the way up until you entered the secondary cockpit that maybe Anakin had a preplanned lesson that wouldn’t end in infamy.

That was, of course, until the actual flying started.

Refocusing your attention to continue inspecting the gunner controls to your right, you soon found greater ease in probing the laser canons’ maneuverability with time. In fact, you were able to quite quickly understand this new model’s updated variations, and how those tied into its modernized combative functions. This was most transparent earlier at the flight’s start, when, after a short brief from Anakin, you were comfortable enough to trigger the fighter’s new S-foil wing system, a state-of-the-art feature which supposedly allowed for greater heat dispersion between the ship’s engines and canons in high-speed situations.

Yes, you lacked the heuristic flying and gunner skills, but your studies on Hoth were not for naught. You had long ago memorized the user-based functionalities of older starships. Its parts, controls, functions, and capabilities, employing your own shelter as a dissectible specimen to fuel your understanding. So, while you didn’t have Anakin’s piloting experience or dexterity, you were still rather capable of exercising that garnered knowledge to pick up parallel operations fairly quickly.

It was also why, in reaching hour two of Anakin’s lesson, his sporadic, step-by-step sputterings of how and when he engaged elementary control functions did little to quench your parched alacrity.

So, you broke the silence.

“So…when are the gunners gonna become pilots?” You asked, both on your and Ahsoka’s behalf.

“You think you’re ready to take the reins?” Anakin raised, a hint of playfulness echoing behind the occasional pop of the radioed voice in your ear.

You smirked. “Only one way to find out.”

Just as you finished, a small, yellow window blinked open at the top of your screen. You briskly scanned it, recognizing the primary controls transfer confirmation request before gingerly tapping accept.

In half a second, the flight computer once shrouded in darkness directly in front of you flickered to life. It began by displaying various levels of system readiness in navy blue text on the left. Shield artillery, forward and aft stability, among others. On the opposite side shone the fighter’s coordinate plane, a graphed image depicting the ship’s location based on immediate surroundings that were divided by orange, sectional rings.

They all buzzed to life in conjunction with a control panel of glowing, kaleidoscopic buttons, switches, and several familiar levers, their color-coded rings now steadily blinking a range of unnatural reds, blues, and yellows by your fingertips.

“Let’s see what you got,” Anakin crackled through.

You hummed in concentration while wrapping a set of fingers around the navigation lever, feeling its give as you put your other hand to work adjusting the bird’s speed parameters on the animated control panel. Once the specifications were fixed, you lifted your head back toward the speckled darkness of space, gently nudging the lever forward to dip the fighter.

And you sensed the change immediately.

The modest pressure of your back suddenly tugging to the rear support infused your fingertips with dawning excitement. You pulled the lever toward you with greater confidence now in the directional shift, sensing the variation in the fighter’s ascent while absorbing your first taste of the craft’s feel, as well as its movement’s interaction with the Force.

Before long, your certainty swelled further, stirring you to twist the rapidly scaling fighter into a backward loop while listening to the metal grunt merrily around you.

Despite swiftly finishing that circle, you were reticent to give the bird a moment to rest. Instead, you directed the Starfighter to climb once more, adjusting the panel controls for a hammerhead descent. Even now, in this rapid ascent, you body still prickled at the fighter’s consistency with the imputed speed adjustments as you neared the desired pivot point.

Then, you felt it.

That minute weightlessness that commanded you to yank the navigational lever to the right, bringing the ship into another sharp, controlled dive for a few seconds before leveling it off into a normal flight pattern.

“Not bad,” Anakin began. “But those little tricks aren’t gonna do much good on the battlefield.”

“It’s not like we have any battle droids for target practice,” Ahsoka commented. “Or anything to train in defending against.”

She had a point, you considered inwardly.

But if your time on a deserted planet taught you anything, it was that even the most resourceless locales could be molded into an advantage.

“And isn’t this a clone ship?” She continued.

You glanced around at your surroundings beyond the compact cockpit as their conversation reigned unabated, hoping to catch sight of anything that could be put to use as you stuck to the fighter’s default flight path programmed to circulate Coruscant’s outer edge.

“Yeah,” Anakin irritatedly drew. “But it was the only model that could fit three beings. It’s similar enough to the Delta-7s anyways.”

A sudden, protesting flurry of high-pitched, sundry beeps sloped in pitch from your headset, but still failed to draw your preoccupied glare away from its scan of the region.

Though it did precipitate a sigh in the blue-eyed Jedi

“Sorry, Artoo. Three beings, and a droid.”

Then, you spotted it.

A few hundred kilometers to your right floated a scattered array of tiny meteors, traveling in an undefined shape at an imperceptible speed. Far enough away from Coruscant to avoid accidental atmospheric entry, and small enough to avoid causing any real damage to a fighter with as heavy shielding as this one.

“I may have a solution to that,” you voiced while veering the Starfighter’s nose toward the crumbly assemblage of hickory brown space rocks.

“Let’s hear it!” Ahsoka eagerly exclaimed, having had little else to do but listen to Anakin’s instructions in the rear gunner pod for the last few hours.

“You see that up ahead?” You asked, nodding to the nonspecific structure before remembering that your companions couldn’t see you.

“The meteors?” Anakin questioned.

You cognitively hummed, the formation expanding as the fighter quickly neared its destination.

“Nope,” you popped. “That, is an enemy starship.” You asserted. “Anakin, how’s your object manipulation?”

He scoffed. “Do you even need to ask?”

“Even in space?” You lightly teased, bringing the bird in to perpetually circumnavigate the ruble consortium.

“Especially in space.”

Somehow, you could almost taste his grin through your rumbling headset.

“I’m holding you to that,” you quipped, a small smile slipping by your lips.

Without skipping a beat, you leaned your head back to address Ahsoka. “Master Skywalker here is gonna be our intrepid, enemy gunner.”

You gesticulated toward the backdrop. “These rocks are his ammo. I’ll be the primary pilot, and, Ahsoka, you’re my gunner. Oh! And Artoo?”

You glanced up at the droid’s blue and white head, peeking out from his secured cavity in the center of a divider wall that separated you and Ahsoka.

“Do try to keep Anakin from accidentally destroying our way home.”

The droid buzzed in a rising chime of inspirited affirmation as his head danced into a spin.

“Don’t worry, Artoo,” Ahsoka reassured while the air of your cabin flooded with the fizzing whir of her dorsal canon elevating. “Silvey and I will make sure you don’t have much work to do.”

“It seems I must teach you a lesson in speaking too soon, my young Padawan,” Anakin sassed.

“Alright,” you interjected, keeping an eye on the meteor cluster to your left. “The battle starts now.”

“Let’s have it.”

Just as those final words fluttered from your dried lips, a fluctuation in the hovering mass caught your eye. You centered your vision, catching a knot of nearly twenty rocks assembling into a spearhead formation near the crowd’s outer rim. That was, before, without notice, those jagged rocks sharply launched toward the fighter’s closest flank.

“Hold on!” You called out instinctively before bringing the bird down into a sudden plunge.

The whizzing meteor configuration rushed after the Starfighter’s tail, giving Ahsoka the prime latitude to start shooting down the shard-like projectiles with the zapping hiss of her maneuverable canon.

While Anakin’s Padawan sustained her calculated assault on the cluster’s center bludgeoners, you, however, were beginning to sense a hairsplitting breakaway in their diving formation. Intending to investigate this further, you glanced at the coordinate plane to the right of your screen. There, you soon spotted two chaotic bundles of flashing red dots, rapidly approaching either wing at a speed that doubled their blinking rate.

This discovery was, naturally, followed by the occasional, yet abruptly swelling, clangs of eluding debris that bounced off the bird’s aft. Thankfully, Artoo was at the ready, already working to readjust the deflector shields to the rear as he emitted an arrangement of disapproving, bellowed beeps.

“I’m doing my best, Artoo!” Ahsoka droned.

You, on the other hand, were keeping careful attention on those threatening, crimson flecks. So much so, that your grip on the throttle mindlessly tightened as they relentlessly inched and inched ever so closer.

But you waited, relaying their distance internally from the screen’s navigation display as you formulated a plan on the fly.

100 meters…50 meters…15 meters.

This should work.

You wrenched the lever to the right, hard, bringing the fighter into a sudden tilt. The wings parked at 12 and 6 o’clock as the rocks once speedily approaching each end blindly whizzed over your head and by the ship’s belly.

You paused here for only a moment, permitting the last pebble to zoom past before righting the fighter.

Now, having brought the environment back into a gradual equilibrium, you’d believed the fore was secure enough for you to address the swelling pummeling you were receiving from behind. So you stretched your neck back, expecting to momentarily check in with Ahsoka’s progress.

But in that ever so brief twist away from the viewport, you just as suddenly sensed some whirlwind convergence in the path of the bird’s nose.

Having spun around, eyes searching, you were soon able to abruptly spy those same, once-dodged clusters presently returning with newfound vengeance.

“Anakin…” you chided, taking the fighter into another evading dip. “Last time I checked, laser bolts can’t redirect themselves.”

“These are…special laser bolts,” The Chosen One brightly justified as his dual-speared formations endured an unforgiving swoop and approach.

You huffed, once more returning to the panel to readjust the speed parameters before taking the ship up again in hopes of shaking these ‘Silvey-seeking lasers.’

The next twenty or so minutes of this little, spontaneous exercise protracted more of the same. Ahsoka primarily handled all the aft attacks. And any time a knot of projectiles came whistling toward the fighter’s flanks or fore, you retained a calculated quickness in twisting, looping, or diving away to elude the enemy.

You did this especially well when, at some point, Anakin guided his mineral minions into another full-frontal attack. With minimal latency, you rolled the ship into a small curve, swiftly pointing its tail at the hastily advancing masses so that Ahsoka could take over, all in an effort to tighten these battle-necessary skills.

It was all fun and games, of course, until Artoo erupted into a fit of jangling chirps, which you altogether roughly interpreted as a plea to pause.

It was in those following moments that, you too, started to notice the crater-like burrows that speckled the ship’s hull and nose, its cherry red, warpaint bands unreasonably chipped, and its canon arms dented.

And you could only imagine what the aft looked like.

It was clear that the three of you had certainly given this Starfighter a thorough beating.

“Sorry buddy,” you replied while gradually levying the ship to a standstill.

You assumed Anakin had also received the memo as the previously merciless bombardment of space debris clusters stalled like sleeping statues around you, blanketing back into the natural confines of the surrounding white-speckled vacuum.

“Guess the drill got away from us,” you continued, bringing up the command controls transfer menu on your screen before programming it to relay all functions to the main cockpit.

You endured in the same breath, powering down the canon engines with a deflated huff. “If you need any help with the repairs, my hands are yours.”

No matter his noticeable frustrations, the astromech must have still appreciated the offer as your headset swiftly resounded with spirited whistles of gratitude.

“Okay,” Anakin uttered, the secondary pilot screen, panel, and levers before you dimming back into the blackness of your cabin with a depleted drone as he accepted the changeover. “One more thing I want to try before we rotate positions.”

Your attentiveness toward Skywalker’s words was short-lived, however, as an unexpected, shrill blare resounded throughout your suffocating compartment.

“Um,” Ahsoka emitted.

Instinctively, you glanced at the single active interface to your right, only to register a flashing red warning plastered above the primary gunner controls. Then, just seconds into your efforts to detect the source, a female voice spilled into the exposed space, parroting the same admonition flashing before your eyes from interior speakers.

“Uh, Anakin?” You articulated, staring at the now, decidedly visible safety warning. “Why are you suppressing the inertial dampeners?”

“I want to test the terminal rotational velocity of this new model before it’s dispatched to my battalion,” he nonchalantly explained.

You peeked down at his cockpit, registering the ever-shifting essence of the back of his head as he seemingly prepped the ship for whatever stunt was next on the agenda.

“Isn’t that what the piloting screen’s for?” Ahsoka challenged. “To give you those numbers?”

“Yes,” he muttered, annoyed. “But I can’t get a good feel for its real maneuverability with the dampeners at max.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna like this,” you breathed while the batting crimson glow of the ship’s safety system dragged on its incessant screech.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin cheered seconds before a thrumming, mechanical purr sounded from either side of the ship. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Your head swiveled toward the hums, enabling you to notice the wings’ X formation slowly collapse into a thicker, horizontal line with a metallic snap.

“I think the warning lady disagrees with you,” Ahsoka deadpanned while Artoo chirped in with jumbled blips of agreement.

You exhaled. “I’m gonna have to jump in on this bandwagon, too, Anakin.”

You reflexively gesticulated to your right.

“Closing the wings will burn us up.”

“Only if the canon engines are on, which you turned off,” he reminded. “Besides, having them open will drag our rotational speed.”

Realizing that his mind was made up, you relented, leaning back into your cushioned backrest as you folded your arms in a mix of apprehension and quiet protest.

Logically, you knew Anakin was a talented pilot. But in the short time you’d known him, he always seemed to be one switch away from a reckless decision that couldn’t be rescinded. You could only rely on the Force to warn you otherwise but, for now, you took comfort instead in mumbling one reoccurring thought aloud.

“I’m gonna regret this.”

“Okay, prepare yourselves,” the blue-eyed Jedi declared as you felt the uniform pull of a Starfighter in motion.

Anakin was not one to dally, you knew that too. But you were also not quite expecting the speed or suddenness with which he instantly accelerated the craft.

Mere meters into the flight, the chestnut-haired Jedi launched the fighter with the momentum of a passionate lightning bolt, driving your entire being to squash back as the sudden force partially flattened your skin and burrowed in between chapped lips and suddenly exposed gums. Your hands shot impulsively out to either side of the cramped cockpit, flattened palms shoving against both engine-warmed walls for some semblance of balance.

But it was no use. The thrill-seeking man continued to drive the bird to newly discovered, exponential speeds.

Mind briefly flickering, you recalled your other Jedi companion while trying to catch your breath. You could only imagine what poor Ahsoka was experiencing on the opposite side of the craft as she was thrust forward by the inverse velocity.

But evidently, none of these worries had crossed Anakin’s mind. Instead, you imagined his eyes’ were thinly focused on the speedometer as he sensed the pulverizing oppressions around him.

That was, you guessed, until he found a tempo that finally suited his rotational needs because just as promptly as he accelerated, the adrenaline-addicted man sharply jerked the Starfighter mid-race into a tight, unyielding roll.

The only word you could use to describe the sensation, was uncanny.

There was something about the way it dragged you from your awareness. The feeling of being simultaneously smashed together and ripped apart across every point of your body not only blurred your vision, but it seemed to draw you far enough away from your senses that you could barely feel the comforting touch of the Force. It was as if it flowed inches from your fingernails, but not close enough to wet them.

Still there, but just out of reach.

Instead, your entire experience centered on the raw rush of a repressive speed’s disconnected passions as the fighter’s rotations puckered.

Then, you felt a familiar twinge rap at your forehead’s center.

You tried to thrust it away, refocusing your attention on the feel of the increasingly searing metal under outstretched fingertips to ground yourself. But even as you did so, a new wave of clamoring throbs smacked you upside the head, blasting you into a new realm of haziness.

You knew the drill. An unpleasant, yet manageable headache like this one was sure to last a long while. The rest of the morning, perhaps, if recent history had any say. But they hadn’t prevented you from addressing more pressing matters. Like those involved with gunning a Starfighter.

Or surviving one of Anakin’s test flights.

At least, not up until this point.

By some means, the keen pulse that was now branching into your sinuses and across the bridge of your nose suddenly developed a more piercing vigor. Each jab increasingly resembled the perforations of a bayonet, as if some invisible force was repeatedly impaling your skull like a pirate digging for lost treasures. Time became relative while your entire dome felt like a massive, gaping wound, unlatched to a world of acidic fingernails that hungrily tunneled through the gash.

You retracted both arms from the cockpit’s flanks, allowing your body to writhe to the rhythms of spinning g-forces as you slammed each flattened palm against the sides of your head. While the agony deepened at a rate comparable to the twisting ship’s bolt, you pressed down on your sinuses, harshly, charged with the secret desire to squeeze out the pain with your brain marching inches behind if need be.

Just as rapidly, you could tell that you were reaching a breaking point in your silent fortitude. With the caliber at which this was worsening, you knew that, very soon, it was going to be too strenuous to keep your involuntary, disturbed vocalizations to a minimum. You couldn’t take it. It was too much.

You just needed it to stop.

You needed everything to stop.

“Stop…” you croaked weakly.

But it was too soft for the headset to register as the fighter continued its twirling trek with no acknowledgment from any passengers.

So you tried again, with just a tad more energy.

“Please, stop…”

Your depleted voice was washed away by the dogged bawl of the earsplitting siren which kept drenching your vision in cycles of cerise.

Another shattering knife ran through your skull with a burning fire that combatted that of the ship’s engines as it steadily milked your eyes for brimming tears.

You gasped.

“Anakin, stop!”

The Starfighter abruptly decelerated, steadily relaxing into a leveled state as the deadening drone of easing engines devolved into a bass grunt.

You welcomed the instantaneous airlessness that invaded your bones and softened your skin as the cabin depressurized. Somehow, in the seconds that followed, it had even given you a momentary burst of vitality, supplying a few seconds for you to reach out to Force’s boundless flow.

Yet, despite quickly intertwining yourself with its reassuring brush, the exquisite ache that racked your head was hardly tempered by the change of pace.

“My bad,” Anakin chuckled lightly. “Got carried away.”

There was nothing you could do to block the shaky breath that trembled past drained lips.

“Silvey?” Anakin questioned stiffly, having seemingly heard your pained exhale.

“What’s wrong?” Ahsoka intently inquired through a headset that truly felt light years away. “Did something happen?”

Out of barely-centered vision, you caught a bushy-haired shape in the main cockpit contort toward your form as a soft voice invaded your ears.

“Hey, are you…?”

“I think it’s time for Ahsoka to take my place,” you shoved out, gravelly voice nearly betraying you before you relented, resting your eyelids in a temporary rest.

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[thefireflyreader]

An Anakin Deep Dive

So this is going to be mostly things that are from canon/legends. I will mention headcanons that I have, but I'll admit they are headcanons. Might have spoilers for the Kenobi show. I'll see if after I finish typing this up that still applies. Reason for this post. Well, I feel like people talk very negatively about Anakin, which has only been made a bit worse by the Kenobi show. And I think people forget some things about him. Anakin's timeline:

Birth to 2: He was a slave with an abusive master. Now most people assume he doesn't remember this. However, there is a novel about Vader (I believe it's just called Vader) that actually implies he does remember some of this.

2-9: He was given to Watto. Or well won by Watto. Now Watto was not a horrible master by any means. However, Anakin was still a slave. He was not free. This next part is more speculation than canon/legends, but what are the chances Anakin knew how to read or write? He may have known basic math since Watto was a shop owner and he may have handled customers.

(Also I don't believe him when he says he's not afraid of the chip blowing him up. You're nine.)

9-18/19: He's a Padawan with Obi-wan. We don't know much about this time period. Because even the extend universe novels about him as a padawan happen shortly after he gets to the temple and right before he's knighted during the clone wars. However, expanding on the reading/writing thing mentioned earlier, if he knew to read/write, it was because Shmi taught him, but she was an slave from being a young girl (Age not specified), so there's a good chance she didn't know either. Either way, Anakin would have been miles behind his fellow peers within the Jedi Order. He was immediately accepted as a Padawan, which people may have been jealous of. Although, considering Obi-wan had just been knighted, this may not be as bad as if someone like Master Windu had taken him.

There are three things we know Anakin is good at: flying, mechanics, and sparring. However, sparring is the only one of those things Obi-wan trained him in.

19: He marries Padme and is immediately thrown into the Clone Wars.

19-22/23: Clone Wars, where some events were made to directly affects Anakin's relationship with his friends.

Umbara: Rex was either supposed to die or lose trust in Anakin. Anakin was pulled away by the Chancellor for reasons we don't know and nothing seemed to happen that would warrant him leaving the 501st.

Wrong Jedi: Ahsoka leaves the Order, because they kicked her out because she was accused of something she didn't do. There really wasn't much of an apology from the Jedi in terms of that, so double whammy. Ahsoka leaves, so Anakin loses some of his support and he is mad at the Jedi.

Hardeen: Name one reason it had to be Obi-wan that went undercover. The bounty hunter needed to have esteem by killing someone well known? Okay, and? It's literally Vos's job to do this kind of undercover work. Also, there was no reason Anakin couldn't have been informed after the mission started, because he would need the raw emotions. Also why was he allowed to go after "Hardeen?"

22/23: Anakin fell to the Dark side, partially due to manipulation from Palpatine, the Jedi mishandling him at times, and his own struggles with his emotions.

My main point is that people seem to forget about the trauma Anakin went through and also that he was only 22 maybe 23 when he fell to the dark side. He wasn't an adult who had his life together. He was at war while still a teenage. Yes, 19 while considered an adult is still a teenager. His brain wasn't even fully developed when he fell. My dad likes to tell me all the time that the frontal cortex, where processing consequences happens, doesn't fully develop until you're 26.

He was mishandled a bit by the Jedi. It felt, at times, that the Jedi were treating him as if he had been in the temple his whole life, especially in ROTS, where he speaks to Yoda about his nightmares of losing Padme. He goes to ask for help and is basically told to let it go. Also, in the few novels about Anakin's time as Obi-wan's padawan, he continuously struggles with Obi-wan's teaching style. And to me, it boils down to a difference in love language. Anakin seems to thrive off words of affirmation, and maybe a little bit of touch, while Obi-wan seems to use and react better to acts of service. Obi-wan tends to show Anakin he is proud of him or that he loves him, when Anakin needs him to tell him. (And I can go on another long rant about why Obi-wan is the way he is. Specifically how Qui-Gon screwed him up.)

[dokoni-mo]

The Throne || Darth Vader x GN! Reader

summary: he can sense your burning desire.

NSFW // smut

word count: 3713

warnings: thigh-riding, dom/sub undertones, established relationship, secret relationship, praise, cursing, unfair power dynamics, inappropriate usage of the force, mentions of canon-typical violence, fear, very brief and slight degrading, aftercare, soft vader, minor spoilers for Kenobi episode 3

a/n: listen i can't be the only one that thought of this during this scene. also please bear with me if this isn't that good,, i don't write smut very often

~~~

Mustafar. Volcanic planet located on the Outer Rim with rivers of lava cascading all over its rich, black surface. With temperatures so hot enough to burn the inside of your lungs, it's virtually impossible for any living lifeform to thrive upon it. Its one of the last places anyone would want to go.

Yet, for some odd reason, you found yourself there frequently.

It wasn't what you were expecting when you joined the Empire. It wasn't in the slightest. Upon recruit not too long after the Republic fell, you were just expecting to be a solider. Another cog in the wheel. You had signed up just hoping to get any sort of security in a galaxy of seemingly never-ending hostility. You didn't even agree with the Empire. You were just scared of what would happen if you didn't join them.

Perhaps that is what drew him to you. The smell of your fear.

You had always thought you were good at hiding it. You learned how to make sure it didn't show on your face; in your posture. But god damnit it was hard in the Empire. It was even harder around him. Granted, you didn't expect to be assigned maintaining his squadron of troopers so quickly, so you had very little time to prepare yourself. You often found yourself wondering: if you did have time to prepare back then, would it have gone any different? Would you have gotten reassigned by now? Would you have caught his eye like you did? Would the two of you had grown so close as you did?

But, more importantly, would you be in the position that you're in right now?

Growing close to him, you soon found yourself following him everywhere he went. He would make it a point to bring you every single place he went to. And, made it even more of a point to have you close at all times. Even during important meetings where you weren't allowed to be present, he would order you to wait by the door for him to return. Or wait for him to send someone to come and fetch you. It was only then were you allowed to go anywhere else.

This was another one of those times.

You had been waiting outside that room for what seemed like hours. With the hunt for that Obi-Wan guy going on, you were sure that he had a meeting about something related to that with one if not all of the inquisitors. You had heard a lot about them through him; just how useless and weak they were. Of course, you knew despite all of his complaints about them, they were still a force to be reckoned with. They were orders of magnitude more powerful than you. But, of course, compared to him, they were nothing. And you knew that was ultimately what made them get on his nerves.

But, all the same, he still had to deal with them. And whether it was because he wanted to spare you the headache, or simply because he just couldn't let you in on that information, he had you wait outside for him to finish.

You had figured it was going to at most be a few minutes. That, however, turned out to not exactly be the case. The ache in your legs told you that it had at least been a decent while, coupled with the fact that you were growing tired of the view. Mustafar was beautiful, in a very odd, foreboding way. But even with a view like that, you grew tired of waiting. Especially because you weren't allowed to do anything but wait.

Sometimes, it was a painful trade-off; the relationship you had with Lord Vader. But would you trade it for anything?

No. Never in a million years. Call yourself crazy, but you had grown fond of the sith lord after all this time. And, at least to you, he had grown fond of you as well. There weren't many people you were fond of anymore. That being the case, you made it a point to cling onto him like grim death. And if that meant tolerating his busy schedule, along with saving face and doing as he commanded when the two of you were in public (in order to not arouse any suspicion from the rest of the Empirical army), you would happily oblige.

Eventually, after letting what felt like the thousandth sigh that day escape through your lungs, you heard the faint sounds of boots clacking against the shiny, polished ground come around the corner, making your ears perk up at the noise. Turning to look over your shoulder, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when you discovered that the footsteps didn't belong to Lord Vader. Instead, they belonged to one of the stormtroopers that had been stationed outside the door, his blaster held tightly to his chest as he addressed you.

"Commander (L/N)?" the trooper said, getting your attention, "He's ready for you now."

You hoped your eyes didn't reveal the excitement that bubbled up from deep inside you. Giving the trooper a quick nod and a soft thank you, you made it a point to watch the solider leave before you made any moves. He liked to know that when he got you to himself, there was no one around that could potentially ruin the experience. It used to make you scared; knowing that if he flipped his switch one day and killed you, there'd be no one around to hear you scream. But, over time, you found yourself agreeing with him on that.

You liked being alone with the Dark Lord.

Perhaps you have gone crazy.

Your boots clacking against the floor, you rounded the corner to the entrance to the room, stopping briefly in front of the closed doors to punch in your clearance-code. A green light flashed at you when the last of your numbers was punched in, and the large, metal doors parted to open up for you. Immediately, you were greeted with a flash of red light from within, emanating off the windows to the outside world. Stepping into the room, you were greeted as well with the sight of the man of the hour. Lord Vader was perched in the middle of the sleek, dark room, sitting in the equally-as sleek and dark throne in the middle of it all. If it weren't for the few lights within the room itself, coupled with the deep crimson coming from outside, you wouldn't have even noticed that he was there. As soon as he saw you come in, you felt his gaze from behind the mask fall upon your smaller frame, the sound of his rhythmic, mechanical breath filling your ears.

"Commander (L/N)." he rumbled out, not moving an inch from his seated position as he continued to stare ahead at you. This earned a soft smile from you as you reached down beside the doorframe, pressing a few buttons on the control pad to close the doors behind you and lock them there from the inside.

"There's no need for the formalities, Vader." You responded as you pressed the last few buttons on the controls, "I made sure everyone was gone when I came in. It's just us now."

From the corner of your eye, you could see him relax a little more in his seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Leaning against the doorframe, you were able to get a much better look at him now. Even sitting down, he still had his iconic intimidation factor. And, he still looked huge. He was a very large man to begin with; over six-and-a-half feet tall, all that bulk and armor. Maybe sitting down only amplified just how big his muscles were, because god damn. He really could make anyone feel small. Without even trying.

Interesting.

"How'd it go?" you asked him, lifting up your legs and bending them at the knee one by one to stretch them out.

You watched as he settled his back against the expanse of his throne, his hands loosely balling up into hard, leathery fists.

"I find myself growing more impatient with their incompetence by the hour." He rumbled out, his tone making it clear that he was quite frustrated after that meeting. This made you breathe out a sympathetic yet amused smile with a shrug.

"That's understandable, though." You replied, "I mean, they aren't you, Vader. I'm telling you: You should just go out there yourself, find him yourself. It'll save a lot of people a lot of hassle. And you'd find him a lot quicker."

He let out a low rumbles at your words; a sound he made when he knew that you were right.

"I am afraid I am assigned those fools by order of my master." He said. The mention of that man made you roll your eyes. Yeah, he was your boss, but from what you knew from Vader, he liked to make things unnecessarily complex just for grandiosity. Hell, you weren't even his apprentice, and you were annoyed with him You couldn't imagine how Vader felt about it. But, it was clear to you then that at the very least, he was beyond frustrated about the whole matter. He would never outwardly say it, but you just knew he was.

He didn't have to say it for you to know.

Picking yourself off of the doorframe, you clacked your boots over to where the Sith was sitting, kneeling down in front of him from in-between his long, muscular legs to be more at eye-level.

"Hey," you said softly, smiling up at him from your crouched position as you laid your soft hand on top of his own sat overtop his armored knee, "I'm sure that they'll pull their act together soon, alright? I mean, they have the most intimidating boss in the Galaxy. Surely that's enough motivation for them to get the job done. If not, well, just remind him who their boss is."

Vader stared down at you without a word, his mask pointed right at your face as he gazed down at you. You noticed how his breath in his respirator hitched briefly shortly before he spoke again.

"You have quite the outlook on such matters as these, (Y/N)." He rumbled out. Lifting up the hand that wasn't underneath your own, he reached down and gently cupped your face in his mechanical palm, earning another soft smile out of you from beneath him.

"I'm just telling you how it is. And I just know what you like to hear." you retorted back, leaning your head into his palm as you felt his thumb gently rub back and forth upon your flesh. Shifting your weight onto your knee, you released the hand you had on the one in his lap, replacing it with one on top of the one he had on your face, giving it a gentle squeeze. You relished in the brief moment of silence that fell overtop the pair of you before you spoke again, softer this time.

"I missed you today." You nearly whispered out, just loud enough for him to hear through his helmet. It was very much the truth; you had missed him. Even though you weren't gone for that long.

You watched as his head tilted to the side.

"Is that so?" he questioned. If you weren't paying attention, you would have missed the slight hint of amusement in the back of his voice; in the way the hand on your cheek tightened ever so softly. You nodded in response, feeling your face heat up at his words.

He let out another rumble, sitting back in his chair ever so slightly. He slipped his gloved hand from off your cheek, trailing his long, thick, robotic fingers down the length of your jaw. They found their new home resting upon your chin, the bone being held firmly yet gently between his thumb and pointer finger as he tilted it upwards towards his mask. Getting a good look at your flushed face, his thumb began to travel across your smooth, plump skin, gliding itself over your bottom lip and gently tracing the bottom of it as well.

"Perhaps I have been too neglectful of your needs as of late, commander." He said to you, his voice just a touch deeper than the normal dark, deep bass that it is.

Retracting the hand off your face, Lord Vader fully leaned back in his chair, fixing his posture to sit as straight as possible. The sith pushed his hips out from his seated position, making his legs extend out from his chair just a tad bit more. He snaked his hand down onto his large, thick thigh, patting the material that covered the muscle a few times as an invitation.

"Come."

Obeying his demands, you stood up from your kneeling position, stepping in such a way that each of your legs were on either side of his large thigh. You sat yourself on the midway point between his knee and hip bone, finding the seat rather comfortable despite being so menacing. Unable to quite get your balance at first, you rested your smaller hands on his chest, on either side of the panel of buttons that adorned his solar-plexus. The sith made note of how you seemed to be unable to find your proper balance and decided to help. Reaching out to you, you felt him place one large, strong, gloved hand on either one of your hips, giving them a squeeze of approval as he rubbed his thumbs into the bone underneath your clothing.

The Dark Lord seemed to simply admire you for a moment, perched on his thigh before him. He could feel the way your hands trembled lightly as they laid upon his chest; see the way your eyes were already glazed over in want. He was a busy man. he didn't get to be this close to you as often as he wanted to be.

That's why, when he did get the chance, he was keen on making it memorable.

Your lips parted as you felt his hands begin to travel up and down the expanse of your waist, the way his fingers ghosted over your back making you shudder in the cold, dark room. Your smaller body was warm under his touch, him able to feel it even through all the different layers of clothing and armor that adorned the two of you. Even though you couldn't see exactly where he was looking, you could feel his eyes on you as you felt his hands travel slowly down your back, stopping only briefly to give your hips and butt a tight squeeze.

"You seem unsettled, little one." he spoke to you, making note of the way your hands laid against him, alongside the bend of your brow as your face heated up some more.

"I-It's just been a little while, my lord." you responded back, feeling how his hands traveled back upwards to rest on your hips once again. He let out a rumble of approval at your verbiage; at the way you addressed him. You knew he liked to be called that during times like these. And he knew that you knew. This only added to his satisfaction. But still, the the tone of your voice, he could tell something was wrong. You were nervous. You were right in saying that it had been a while. He's a very busy man.

But then again, there's no need to fret, small one. Lord Vader would never do anything to hurt you.

Not unless you asked him to.

Lord Vader reached up one of his hands and brushed the side of your cheek with the back of his knuckles, "There is no reason to worry, my sweet. I have promised you long ago that I would always take care of you."

The Dark Lord placed his back on your hip.

"Now, allow me to prove it to you, little one. Follow my lead, and don't stop until I say. Otherwise there will be consequences."

Before you could blabber out a response to him, you felt his grip on your hips grow tight, enough to where you knew there would be bruises there in the morning. Without warning, the sith begun to grind your hips down onto his thick, muscular thigh, rocking you back and forth in small motions as your clothed crotch ground against his leg. The sudden motion made you gasp, your hands palming at his chest and shoulder armor as a desperate attempt to keep you balanced. After the initial shock of the sudden pleasure between your legs, you began to rock your hips along with his assistance. A plethora of soft, quiet moans and whimpers escaped your lips, your face heating up even further as you heard your sounds ricochet off of the walls of his throne room.

"There you are, my sweet, there... Keep going, pet. Give yourself to me." Lord Vader commanded you, giving you one quick bounce of his leg and watching you gasp again, but this time a loud, breathy moan following it. Embarrassed by making such a lewd noise, you bit your bottom lip as you tried to suppress your whines, curling your waist as you tried to grid against him further.

Seemingly displeased with you trying to hold back your voice, you watched through blurry, need-filled eyes as the dark lord snaked one of his hands up your body. It only stopped once it reached your chest, the sheer size of it nearly engulfing the entire expanse of your ribcage. Without much of a warning, you couldn't hold back your needy cries as he started to knead and grope at your chest.

"You said you know what I like to hear, correct?" he asked you, only it was phrased as if it were a demand, "Then act like it."

A pang of fear at his displeasure shot through your body. You has yet to see what a punishment from him looked like, and you found yourself not very keen that afternoon to see exactly what it would be. Following his demands, you nodded your head in response and kept your moans vocal without any shame. At the loss of one of his hands, you were finding it hard to balance on his thigh again, making your movements more sloppy than what he would have liked. As a solution, you felt the air around you grow tense as he reached out with his power, using the aid of the force to keep you in place.

Your face looked helpless as you continued to gasp and moan at every stroke along his leg, your cries just has helpless as you.

"F-Fuck- ahh fuck, my lord..! Please, don't stop! So good..!" you blubbered out in between your moans, your hips desperately trying to keep up with his pace.

"Look at you, darling. What a mess you are. You are doing so well for me, little one. Good... keep going. Obey me and I shall reward you." He rumbled in response, his hand on your chest gripping and massaging in all the right places.

After a good while of following his movements, you could feel the old, familiar coil winding inside your stomach. It made your movements more erratic, even to the point to where you were moving your waist much faster than he was guiding you. Feeling your increase in pace, Vader knew that could only mean one thing. To help you along, he began to bounce his knee at random intervals, finding it quite amusing the way you would gasp each time. Your fingers on his chest gripped onto him with nearly all your strength. Your moans had grown louder by the second, only this time you didn't care how embarrassing it was.

It was only him, you were giving them to, anyway.

"I sense that you are close." He said to you, almost so nonchalantly that it made you wanna scream. You tried to respond to him as best you could, but the only thing you could blather out through your thick, lusty haze that crept across your being.

"It is alright, my star. Let go for me. Show me just how I and I alone make you feel."

With that, you let yourself go for him, relishing in the orgasm that ripped itself through your body and forced a plethora of moans escape your lips. Your orgasm made your body go weak, the pure, raw bliss coursing through your veins rendering you unable to move a muscle. To help you ride your high, Lord Vader pushed your hips into his thighs a few more times, his mechanical breath far more ragged than before. He watched as you rose and then came back down from your state of euphoria, watching you without a word as your chest rose and fell beneath his touch as you panted. As he released you from his hold on you through the force, he gently reached out and guided you down to lay against his chest, sensing that you would be far too weak to sit there on your own.

Your body was hot against his, and your small hands grabbed at any part of him that he could reach. With your body in toe, he leaned against the back of his throne, one hand stroking through your sweat, dampened forehead whilst the other held onto you, his arm snaked around your torso. He could tell that you were quite tired now as he rumbled out a few short, small praises to you, not expecting any sort of response in return. Which, for the moment he was fine with. You had done so well for him. It would just be cruel to have you keep going in a state such as this. After having you, he felt much more charitable than he normally did at any given moment.

And whilst sitting upon his throne? In his castle, on his planet on his edge of the galaxy? With his little darling so cutely in his arms?

How could he not be in such a better mood?

~~~

[stardust-kenobi]

Reminiscence

Part 1

Obi Wan Kenobi x F!Reader

Warnings: mention of death, order 66, mutual pining, fluff :’), a lot of dialogue, light smut

A/N: please note! I wrote this right after the premiere so these details may not line up with the show as episodes progress. I am basing details off the trailers and the first two episodes :) SO, of course, spoilers!

Word count: 2.8k

Gif cred: @general-kenobis

The weight of a boulder settled hard into your stomach when you caught sight of something you never anticipated to see again. A bustling crowd blocked your view for seconds at a time. You abandoned your browsing in the market to make your way toward the sight, ensuring that your eyes did not deceive you.

There he stood, that stoic man, his deep golden strands falling comfortably against his cheeks. You immediately noticed some speckles of gray that were coming in nicely. The relentless rays of sun had starting pulling at his once smooth skin. His piercing eyes had not caught yours yet as his hooded disguise limited his range.

Despite the several seconds of doubt, there was no denying it now. It was him. Your Master. The one you were told had died at the hands of his own men, troopers he trusted with his life…Before the galaxy plunged under rule of the empire.

The rambling of noises from the other patrons in the marketplace were suddenly drowned out as his gaze became magnetized to yours. It was as if he felt your presence instantly. The corners of your lips perked slightly, and you offered a subtle nod. There were inquisitors littering this planet, hunting for Jedi. You couldn’t risk that, not now. Not when you’ve just discovered that he still lives.

You spent months mourning your Master, ignoring the rules of attachment and throwing away almost everything he taught you. An awful coping strategy, certainly, but forgetting who you were was the only way to ease the pain.

You pulled back the tears that threatened to pool in your eyes. You wanted to do nothing more than full sprint into his arms and hold him close. Even when you were his Padawan, that would’ve be over the line, but you didn’t care. You loved him.

Obi Wan nodded slightly to the right, quietly communicating to you to follow him. You kept your distance. There were too many people in Mos Eisley to hold a reunion here.

---

The suns nearly blistered your skin and sweat soaked your face. After walking for what felt like hours through the relentless heat, you approached a rock structure with a small opening. He stopped abruptly and awaiting the all-clear signal from a stationary droid.

“Y/n” he breathed out with relief as you led you into the cavern. The temperature dropped significantly as you were shielded from the elements. You took a brief notice of your environment and realized this was his home.

“Oh, Obi Wan” you almost sobbed, but swallowed your tears.

Before you could think about your next step, your arms threw themselves around his neck. You expected hesitancy, but he fell into your embrace, wrapping his strong arms around the curve of your back.

“My young Padawan…I thought you were dead” he whispered against the top of your head.

“Everyone said you were gone, Master. They said you were killed by your own men” You choked into a light sob, unable to hold it back any longer. He felt your despair and simultaneous relief and pulled you tighter against him.

“I’m alive. I’m here” Obi Wan consoled you softly.

“I’ve missed you. Stars, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you right now”

“I feel the same. I thought my eyes had played a trick on me when I saw you.” He chuckled, “or maybe the suns had finally drained my sanity from me”

You both slowly pulled away from one another’s embrace, and you stared deep into his weary eyes.

“My, you’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you”

You blushed. You’d always had a crush on him, but hearing those words set your skin on fire.

“I’m taller now, too” you joke, remembering all the times that Obi Wan poked fun at your height.

“Really? I don’t think so. In fact I think you might be shorter” he teased. You smirked and playfully rolled your eyes. You looked around the room, assuming this to be his home. It was desolate, quiet, but also open to threats.

“Are we safe?” You asked quietly.

“There is no such thing as safe anymore. Not for us. But I don’t have to tell you that”

“No,”

"By new standards of safety, we are fine here"

You nodded.

“Where have you been?” He inquired, still entirely baffled that you found him.

“Travelling. Holding myself over with small jobs. Hoping that no one recognizes me. What about you? Have you been on Tatooine this whole time?”

“Yes, 10 years now”

“Why here?”

“It’s…complicated” His brows furrowed together, a look of pain in his eyes.

“Okay. I won’t pry” You smiled warmly at him, knowing there’s no reason to press into his business after a decade of no contact.

“It wouldn’t have been my first choice for refuge” He admitted regretfully.

“I would imagine not” You said, feeling sorrowful for what he must’ve been through. You know this, because you’ve been through those things, too.

“I can’t believe you’re alive, y/n” he whispered, “I thought I’d lost you and Anakin both. This whole time I-…I thought I’d failed”

“Anakin…he’s…?”

“He’s gone. Lost after the attack on the Temple.”

Your heart sunk deeper with every word. You knew Anakin had to be dead, but hearing the confirmation plunged a blade through your already fragile heart. You two were not incredibly close, but you often trained together and through the years you’d grown quite fond of him.

“Obi Wan, I’m so sor-“

“Don’t. This is not your fault” He firmly assured you.

“You did not fail, Master"

His words, however, certainly failed him in that moment. He needed to hear someone tell him he wasn’t to blame. No one had been able to rest that thought in his mind. Obi Wan struggled to comprehend that you stood before him after all these years. You brought a sense of comfort to him that he never believed he’d feel again.

“Without your teachings and guidance I wouldn’t have made it out alive” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before allowing your gentle touch to sink into him.

“How did you-….You were at the temple when...?”

It all came back with just the simplest question. You took in a deep breath and shut your eyes tight. You looked around, noticing the only place to sit besides his bed, and pulled the chair closer. Obi Wan joined you in the only other chair he owned.

“I hid. For a long time,” You paused, forcing yourself to relive the traumatic moments, “As time progressed, it got quieter and quieter on the other side of that closet door. Screams were hushed, blasters were put away…it was just me...”, You stared away from him, finding it hard to walk through that night again. “I found a scared youngling and we escaped together. Snuck on a cargo ship and got the hell out. But not without a few too many close calls” You stopped again, fighting back the years that crept up. “The youngling, though, I….I lost him. Turned away for a second…he was gone when I looked back”

“What was his name? Did you know him?”

“No...I did not know him. He was too scared to tell me his name. We couldn’t communicate very well anyways. He was very young” You trailed off, looking down to your fidgeting hands resting atop your lap.

“I’m sorry”

“He looked like Master Yoda” You smiled in reminiscence, but sorrow hid beneath your expression, “But I don’t think they were related”

“Grogu” Obi Wan made a sudden realization. He must’ve remembered the little guy.

“Is that his name?” You asked, unsure if this was a name or a place that Obi Wan had identified.

“Yes. It had to be him. He was the only other one of Yoda’s species that I’d seen in the Temple before” Obi Wan said, stroking his beard as stared off into his own thoughts.

You sulked noticeably as you felt responsible for his probable death.

“I’m sure he’s alright, Y/N”

You knew that couldn’t be true, but for the sake of changing the subject away from your horrific experience, you nodded in agreement.

“What brings you here to Tatooine?” He asked after a bit of empty silence.

“I'm a roamer, I take any transport I can hop onto. Just happened to end up here.”

“I see”

“I haven’t been back to Coruscant,” You began, “I don’t know if I can ever go back”

“You shouldn’t. That place is lost”

“It hurts, Master Kenobi” You sighed, unable to avoid the only topic of conversation that seemed necessary for such an unexpected reunion. The pain of reminiscence was the price you had to pay.

“Please” He said, stopping you in your tracks, a painful look struck his features, “Obi Wan is fine. The days of the Jedi are done"

His tone took an unexpected turn. You were taken aback, offended by his dismissal of the Jedi. He called you his Padawan, what changed his perspective so suddenly? You, too, had lost your sense of pride in that identity, but hearing your mentor utter such denial was gut wrenching.

"How can you say that?" You scoffed at him.

"Is it not the truth, Y/N?" He spat back. The rush of emotions you both felt in this moment were pushing you both to the edge. All the loss and grief was catching up to you both in a single conversation.

Your mouth fell open, but you found yourself speechless. He was right. You looked back down at your lap, not knowing what else to say. He seemed to calm suddenly as he took a deep breath.

"I’m sorry. You look well" He mentioned, breaking the tension.

"Thank you. You do as well" You smiled innocently back at him.

He giggled, knowing that to be only a formality. He did look...different. But by no means did he look bad. Still as handsome as ever, just a little rougher around the edges. Ten years and constant fear of incarceration and death will do that to a man. Not to mention the damage that Tatooine's environment could inflict on a human.

"So, do you travel alone, darling?"

Your cheeks were undoubtedly a fiery red. He'd never called you 'darling' before.

"Um...yeah, for the most part"

He tilted his head in curiosity.

"I trust that you are always safe"

"Of course I am. Learned from the best" You kindly teased.

"I taught you many things, but I don't believe I ever got around to teaching you how to avoid imperial inquisitors. You must be on high alert from now on. They are everywhere"

"Oh, I know. I had a close call recently. Let's just say I am glad that I was a woman, and the inquisitor happened to be a man...who enjoyed the company of women"

He snapped his attention to you in shock. He was wise enough to read between the lines and know what you meant. You figured if you had the body to persuade an imperial inquisitor to let you go free, why not use it to your advantage? Obi Wan tried to cover up his jealously, but you noticed it immediately.

"Not very Jedi of me, is it?" You winced, afraid of the judgment to follow.

"Certainly not. Gods, you are going to get yourself killed" He angrily snapped, his protectiveness overpowering his attempt to sound firm.

"Possibly" You pondered.

"I mean it, Y/N. Keep yourself safe. Alive" He emphasized.

"For you, I will"

"Good. I can't lose you, too" He whispered mostly to himself, “or…again”

"Forgive me if this is too forward, but I feel as though I have a lot more to live for now that I know you're alive"

He smiled and refused to tear his gaze away from you. You felt a familiar tension arise that often made itself known when you found yourself alone with Obi Wan. It was a burning tension that warmed you from the inside out.

"Truly, I have missed your sweet face, dear Y/N" He confessed.

His calloused fingers trailed to your lowered chin, and he gently lifted your face up to him. You remained there, lost in the blues of his eyes, wondering if his heart was beating as fast as yours was. You swallowed hard, wishing that you were still in touch with the force so you could communicate silently to him, kiss me.

However, the two of you did not need the force to sense what you both so desperately desired from one another.

Your mouths fused together on impact, your mutual hunger intertwining your lips with such a wonderful passion. A fluttering tingle radiated throughout your entire body as he placed his hands against the sides of your face, pulling you deep into his kiss.

You'd imagined this moment since he first took you on as a Padawan when you turned 18. However you never imagined this interaction would occur under these extenuating circumstances.

His lips twisted with yours harder now, his hunger for you grew deeper within, and he did not know how to stop himself from devouring you right then and there. Obi Wan brought a hand to the curve of your waist and pulled you forward out of your seat. With a leg on either side of his spread lap, you straddled him, satisfied with him taking the lead so you didn't have to.

There was no denying how bad he wanted you, especially after feeling the hardness pressing against where you ached so desperately for his attention. You moaned into his mouth, and his arms gripped you tighter in response.

Your hands explored his unruly hair before moving your fingertips down the veins in his neck. You then rolled your hips against the bulge that was restless beneath you. He groaned so rough, you thought you might melt immediately.

For years you wanted this feeling... the sensation of his hands roaming the surface of your skin, his need for you being ever-so-evident. The overwhelming feeling crashed over you, sending your mind into a euphoric frenzy. The restraint you held as you made the decision to pull away was a challenge.

You smiled down at him, your lips only inches away from his, hovering there without another word spoken. How long had he wanted to do that, too? You both needed not to say a word about it now. It happened, and you'd never dream of wanting to take it back.

His fingertips traced through your hair before falling down your back, leaving chills in their path.

“I’ve waited 10 years to do that” Obi Wan breathlessly admitted to you.

“Me too” You responded while your racing heart refused to slow.

There were more moments of silence, but there was not a single second left empty.

"I won't overstay my welcome, Obi Wan" You broke the silence, your words barely grazing a whisper.

"I'd prefer if you did" He responded, his eyelids fluttering in disbelief that you were finally in his arms.

"What?"

"Stay with me, please" Obi Wan pleaded.

You were stunned and unable to respond. Did he really want you to stay? Were you both so lonely that this seemed like a good idea even if it wasn't? Truly in that moment, you did not care, you just wanted to be near him and never be separated again. You’d just injected the worlds most addictive drug, and there was no turning back now.

"I don't have much space and Tatooine can be absolutely brutal. But I can't let you walk away. Not yet. Please" He continued, not allowing his plea to go unanswered.

"Okay, yeah, of course. Thank you” You accepted, overwhelmed with gratitude. “Truthfully, I wasn't sure where I was going to sleep tonight"

"I don't have much of a bed but you can sleep there. I will be okay on the floor" He smiled up at you as you continued running your fingers through his hair.

"This is your home, Obi Wan. Please, don't go out of your way to accommodate me. Besides, I have slept in worse places than a sandy floor" You giggled.

"That confession is also concerning to me. But, no matter, you'll take the bed."

"Obi Wa-" You objected.

"I insist, really."

"Okay. Thank you"

You stood to your feet and noticed he was still obviously turned on but you looked away to prevent causing him any embarrassment. This sight alone turned you on, but now was not the time. He nervously cleared his throat and adjusted his hips to hide his arousal.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please, that sounds lovely" you graciously accepted your role as his guest, settling back into your chair as he walked to his small cupboard to prepare your drinks.

This was something you could certainly get used to, toughing it out in the outskirts of Mos Eisley, spending your every second with your mentor, but that was a fairy tale you could not entertain right now.

—————————

I kinda want to make this a series?!

UPDATE: part two is up!

[obislittleone]

House Of Memories (31/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff, brief nudity (idek)

Summary: It's your first morning waking up next to someone whom you know loves you.

A/n: this ones just fluffy and sweet my mom showed me a ewan movie called ghost writer and i suffered through two hours and eight minutes of it, trying not to make a big deal out of how much i wanted to touch his hair... this is purely indulgent on that

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 2.1k

His hands were soft, as they gently caressed your skin, down the stretch of your arms and jumping to the small of your back. They ever so slightly made a graze around your middle, coming to the front of your waist before they were back behind you, pulling you closer. The smell of him was purely blood sweat and tears, but then again, most of the Jedi were like that, now.

His lips tasted like fresh spring water, and the way they moved against your own was paradise, purely paradise. It was raw, and full of emotion, and you’d never felt stronger for another person in your life. Your signature was tangled in the comforting flow of his own, and it made your heart race to feel his passion through it.

Never before did you hear such a melodious sound in your life than when he let out a noise of satisfaction into your mouth. You couldn’t even compare it to the lovely music the people in the city made, putting on shows for an abundance of credits. It was partial to him, because it was him. You wanted everything with him, and though you knew this kind of possession and attachment were forbidden, you were so hungry for it, longing to know what it would be like to be his and only his for as long as you lived. No missions to account for with the Jedi, no duties to uphold to the people of the republic, and no rules that you had sworn to abide by.

“I love you, Obi,” your sweet whisper was echoing in his mind, several seconds after you’d said it.

“My little one,” he moved his lips to your neck, tipping your head to the side so he had full access to the untouched areas.

It was all real now, not a dream to wake up from, but the very threads of what were happening to you. It was real...

Your legs were tangled under the sheets of his bed, shifting around every once and a while to achieve a new position to lay in. As of now, you were draped over him like a blanket, hands in his unruly hair as you let out shaky breaths. He hadn't wasted an ounce of time since you'd returned to the temple, making sure you knew that you had his fully undivided attention.

The council, being the wonderful gathering of Jedi that they were, wanted to assign Obi-Wan on yet another mission right after he returned from the previous one, to which he politely declined. They had earlier mentioned their concern for your behavior recently, your rejection of gaining another Master and your darkness infused tendencies... that's why when they asked him why he wasn't accepting the republic's mission, he answered honestly, telling them that he would be spending some much-needed time with his Padawan, to help her climb out of the darkness and keep following the light. Given that Obi-Wan was now on the council, his chair gave him the power to refuse them without being horribly reprimanded. He was wise, indeed, and deserved his spot amongst them. He and Master Yoda were quite frankly the only council members that you tolerated. Perhaps tolerated was not a good word use for Obi-Wan, because what you were doing with him right now went far past the boundaries of tolerance.

"At some point, we do have to talk about this," Obi-Wan needed to be the voice of reason, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to drag his lips away from you long enough to do so. Your skin was addictive, he'd been waiting to taste it all this time, and now that he finally had it in his grasp, he couldn't get enough. He wanted more, wanted it all, wanted you, in every capacity... but he was going to take it slow. You were not like the fling of his past. He'd known you almost all your life, and you were important to him, even outside of the romantic feelings he felt for you. He loved you so innocently, so purely, and he knew that it must have been because on almost all fronts, you were innocent, and you were pure, and he didn't want to spend the first hours of your relationship, whatever it was, ruining that.

"What is there to talk about?" your sleepy eyes fell back into contact with his, and the serious look he gave you was a buzz in the moment. You wanted to simply lay here all day, wrapped up in his clothes and perched on his chest. Your hair fell in loose strands around your face as you were looking at him, and though he could just ignore everything and admire you for as long as you'd let him, he knew that as your master there were still responsibilities to be met.

"I promised the council that I would discuss with you the things which happened in my absence," he danced around the topic, not phrasing it the way you would have, but he knew you would correct him, because it was in your nature to.

"You mean during your death."

He sighed, running a hand through your hair and trying his best to keep going through with this. You were going to have the upper hand, and he knew it... but there was still concern in him, that he for once shared with the council. He had to understand what had happened to you.

"I wasn't dead, my love."

"But I didn't know that," you answered, your tone becoming a little more on the offensive side. You knew it was over, and in the past, but if he was going to bring up the feelings you'd been fighting, then you were going to bring up the reason they came to you in the first place.

"I will never forgive myself for letting you believe it," he paused, shifting to sit up against the headboard, and bringing you to sit on his lap, legs across the bed and arms around his neck. "But if I don't find out if there was anything else that had transpired to cause what happened to you, I would be a failure as your Master."

"I understand," you nodded to him, ready to listen for whatever he asked you.

He wished you'd put up a little more of a fight, he truly didn't want to go into detail about the process of your grief and what almost made you turn. This was for your sake, not for his, and he had to remind himself of that in order to continue.

"The darkness, it was taking you over... and you were letting it in," he had to stop and remember for a moment, the scene that played out on that ship, "When I saw what you had done to your saber..."

"I hate it," you admitted, your eyes finding it where it laid on his nightstand. It was right next to his, but you didn't feel it deserved to be there. "When I was younger, I wanted to be a blue saber so badly. I wanted to be like you. I remember being so disappointed when I found out it was green, but then I talked to you, and you convinced me it was beautiful. I loved it every day after that... but then I ruined it. It's ugly now, tarnished."

You were no longer captivated by the dark side, that much he could tell, which was honestly another reason for concern. Just the loss of him caused you to embrace it, what would happen if he had been gone for real? Would you turn to the Sith? Fight with the separatists?

"A bleeding Crystal can be healed," he reminded you, but you weren't quite sure you believed the old stories. They were legends, and no one had been able to do it on record, but it was still taught in every generation of Jedi. "I can help you."

You smiled at him, all the sincerity he shown on his face, and the love and compassion he held in his eyes. He was everything...

"I may need some time," you told him. You weren't unsure of your ability to use the light side of the force, what you were afraid of, was him sensing your pessimism that it couldn't work. He believed so deeply that you could, and that this brush with the darkness was going to make you even stronger. "But I will try when I'm ready."

He nodded in reply of your agreement, and brought you closer to him, arms around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and began to move you off of his lap. You were unsure why he was leaving, because as far as you knew, there was nowhere else he needed to be but here, with you.

"Where are you going?"

He chuckled at how upset you seemed, just for lacking his embrace after five seconds.

"Well, the fresher would be a good start, I've not showered in days... I'm quite surprised you haven't noticed," He stood to his feet, and scrunched up his face to show his slight disdain.

"Oh, forgive me, I was distracted by you being alive."

Your joke was meant to be more sarcastic than it came out, but you did mean it sincerely... and to be completely honest, you really hadn't noticed he'd not showered. He smelled the same as he usually does, just stronger, which you could hardly complain about. You had missed his scent so much when he was gone, and the pillows you clung to were not much help. You had come to a realization about that, though. The pillows, though well absorbed with his scent, were also infused with yours, making the small one of you both, together. A product of some sleepless nights, when he would hold you after a nightmare, or let you simply lay beside him because he'd been on a mission and oh, how you missed him. It was a realization that came suddenly one night, and you loved the way it sent your heart soaring every time you thought about it hence forth.

"Even still," he chided, walking over to his bench that sat before the foot of the bed. He grabbed his robes that he'd only barely worn once since being back, and out of habit, he didn't think twice before taking the shirt he had on off.

You watched with a fixed stare, every move his body made, each muscle, unrestricted by clothing, and you wondered what it might be like to touch his bare skin. You'd touched his bare chest once, out of impulse while putting him back together on a mission. This was so entirely different. You wanted to feel him, to softly caress the exposed areas, to understand the exact way his chest expanded and fell with each breath. You wanted to run delicate fingers over the broadness of his shoulders and feel the pink lines that were left over as scars from his past experiences. Every touch would be purely out of an instinctual need that formed in the back of your mind.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, little one... I just forget that-" he had noticed your stare, but refused to invade your thoughts that occurred simultaneously, so his instant response was to think you'd somehow been made to feel unsettled.

"You didn't," you stopped him in his rambling. You loved the man to the moons and back, all four of them for the case of Coruscant, but sometimes his obliviousness was wild. "I was just looking because..."

What were you even planning to say? You'd stopped speaking, so clearly you had no kriffing idea.

"Because?" he furrowed his brows, completely unexpectant of the words you'd finally found to finish your sentence.

"Because I think you're beautiful."

You grew timid when it passed your lips, but you weren't the only one with the slight embarrassment worn on your face. His cheeks turned pink, and he had to duck his head in order to fully process what you'd said. You'd confessed your undying love already, but there was still so much new territory that you both had yet to come across. This would definitely be considered as a new territory for him, as you'd had to be the first person to simply tell him he was beautiful.

"I'm sorry if I'm the the one who made you uncomfortable."

He shook his head and walked around the bed to where you sat on the side of it, gently shoving you back into it and collecting your lips in one more kiss. Your mouths were just messily brushing up against the other, for he couldn't stop smiling from ear to ear. You, in the past day, had made him the happiest he'd ever been. It was partial to you, because it was you. You were the one who had made him so happy.

"As much as I would love to stay here with you, I really need a shower."

-

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[hellotherekenobi]

Crystal Clear.

Summary: Obi-Wan has always looked after you and has always shown you that he cares. When the peaceful life you live is threatened, he shows you how deeply his affections lie.

Word Count: 3,670

Dedicated to @immoral-rose ♥

CW/TW: mentions of battle (explosions), injury, & anxiety; crying; a brief sentence about self-injury but it’s not graphic; gn!reader though the term “handmaiden” is used.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Knowing Obi-Wan Kenobi is no easy task.

Everywhere he goes, danger follows. He’s like a magnet to it. Sometimes, you even think he rather enjoys the danger. Not that he would ever admit to it, but it’s true regarding his history.

As for you, the moment you see danger you run. A true flight instinct, rather than fight. Maybe if you had that kind of passion you would be alongside the Jedi, or an ally in some fashion, but truly you just want to live a peaceful life. If any sort of danger is on the horizon, you’re heading in the opposite direction.

Some might consider that cowardly but that’s not it at all. The main reason why you even know Obi-Wan to begin with is because you offered him assistance when there was an attack on the palace you work in, helping to navigate him through the worker’s corridors.

Being a handmaiden came with a lot of perks. One of which just so happens to be that whenever the lady of the house needs Jedi assistance, Obi-Wan is the Jedi who always comes.

Truly, it’s ridiculous how quickly you grew an attachment to him. The first time you met, he had dropped down from the balcony above the one you were standing on and startled you half to death. He had abashedly apologized, though he was chuckling.

That was it. That was all it took for you to fall head over heels for him. One giddy apology matched with his sunkissed smile. Then you were absolutely doomed.

How typical it is that after years of not finding an interest in anyone, the person you happen to fall for is someone who can’t reciprocate those feelings. Jedi aren’t allowed to have attachments and even if they could, you fear he’d want a fighter on his side instead.

Sure, he is ever the gentleman when you two speak to each other. He holds the door for you, he walks on the outer side of the footpath, and he kisses your knuckles with each hello and goodbye. But that’s simply because he has such a pure heart. There can’t be any other motivator under the surface of it all.

When you don’t have much on your list of things to do around the palace—the lady of the house being a very hospitable countess—then you walk around the gardens, and when Obi-Wan has to await further instruction, he joins you.

The conversation ranges amidst many different things. Sometimes it’s regarding your favorite books or poetry. Other times it’s about all of his exciting adventures, remarking on how great so many cultures are in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan is a gentleman, but he’s also a tease.

You had once told him, “I have often wanted to see those other planets, just as you have.”

And he smiled, outshining the sun, and replied, “I’ll take you with me one day.”

There isn’t a way he can keep that promise, you’re sure of it, so you had simply laughed and asked him to tell you another story.

Days like those are your favorites. Especially when you’re feeling more spirited than most, walking along the stone railing with Obi-Wan on the grass beside you, his hand holding yours so that you don’t tip over and fall.

Honestly, you sometimes only go up here just so that you can hold his hand. His skin is soft but with calloused fingertips, and it’s a comforting feeling.

It’s no surprise, then, that you’re walking along the railing again today, hand happily in his hold.

“I think it’s the quiet that I’m fond of,” Obi-Wan speaks, walking at the pace you’re setting. “To be among the mountains. That’s where I want to be.”

You offer him a smile, looking down at him. “That sounds lovely.”

He squeezes your hand, making dragonflies run circles in your stomach. “Your turn now. One place in the whole galaxy, where do you want to go?”

Pursing your lips, you delay your response with a hum. You already know what the answer is but you’ll do anything in your power to stretch out any moment with him for as long as possible.

“The beach,” you say and simply that.

Obi-Wan raises his chin. “That’s all?”

You nod. “That’s all. I’ve never been.”

He stops walking, causing your hand to tug at his when you don’t stop as quickly as he does. Looking down at him, you frown some.

“What’s the matter?” You ask.

His voice is sympathetic, though there’s a very faint grin at his lips. “You’ve never been to the beach?”

“Not once,”

“Well,” he straightens his posture, walking alongside you again. “I’ll have to take you there one day.”

Another promise you’re sure he won’t hold true to. It’s fun, when you’re young especially, to make promises of days you want to spend with someone else, but those plans usually fade away eventually.

Besides, there’s a war going on and Obi-Wan is a Jedi amongst the battle. You doubt you’ll ever watch the waves roll in, let alone with him by your side.

“I’d like that,” you mutter, knowing that your words hold as little weight to them as does his.

When you reach the end of the railing, you turn halfway and Obi-Wan keeps a tight hold of your hand as you lower yourself to sit on top of it, then he pushes himself up to sit beside you.

“Can you swim?” You ask him, swinging your legs.

He nods, scrunching up his face some. The look is clearly displeasing and you can’t help but to chuckle.

“You don’t like the water?” You press, leaning your arm against his.

He sighs. “I’m not too fond of it. Not as much as flying, though.”

“Oh, so flying is worse?”

“Flying is much worse,” he states, a finger pointed. “That’s for droids.”

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.”

A gentle breeze enters the conversation, which is lovely given the temperature. Speaking with Obi-Wan in moments like these feel so special but more than that, they feel comfortable. Around him, you don’t feel the need to act a certain way. You can just be yourself.

Pushing against his arm again, this time in a playful way, you say, “Maybe the beach is out of the question then since you don’t like to swim.”

“Well,” he leans close to you as if he were speaking for no one else to hear, “just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“By why would you?”

Obi-Wan’s brows furrow marginally, looking at you with an expression caught between confusion and sincerity.

“Because you’ll be there.”

Smiling at him softly, you feel a bit bashful by his genuine reply, shaking your head so that he can’t tell how easily you’re swooned by that affirmation alone.

“You’re quite the charmer, Obi-Wan.”

He grins, showing his canines. “It comes naturally with you.”

You think he’s just being a tease now, so you turn his face away from you with a palm against his cheek, and he chuckles heartily as you push off of the railing and tell him that you both should get back to your responsibilities.

Weeks after that, he hardly visits the palace as battles grow tense against the Republic. The handmaidens alongside you work in earnest for the countess’ benefit and also in preparation should an attack happened here.

If you were crossing your fingers behind your back, you would blame yourself for when battle droids stampede the grounds.

The invasion is unlike any you’ve seen and you hurry to hide away as many people as you can through the worker’s corridors, which leads out to a bunker. There is also an escape route from there but until the threat outside is neutralized, there’s no way anyone can make it out without detection.

You’re not sure what possesses you to remain in the thick of it instead of doing your usual reaction by fleeing, but you’re more focused on the safety of others by doing all that you can.

Maybe Obi-Wan’s ways are rubbing off on you. Though, regarding your secluded history, you’re not sure if that’s a good thing.

So, you keep posted by the entrance to the corridors, waving in more people who run down the hallway and lead them inside, telling them to wait with the others.

One person grabs hold of your sleeve, almost tearing the material right off of your shoulder.

“My brother,” they plead. “He’s only young. We were separated.”

“He’ll find his way,” you say, urging them to keep moving.

“Please, he can’t be on his own!”

Neither can you. This is not the kind of person you are, the type that runs into danger even if it were for a noble cause. It scares you down to your bones to think about leaving your partially safe spot by the doorway, but their wailing pushes at your sensibility.

“Alright,” you cave in. “Hide with the others. I’ll find him.”

The distant explosions around the palace are no match for how deafening your heartbeat rings in your eyes, and you feel it against your chest, at your temples, and at your wrists pulsing with an overwhelming amount that takes your feet down the hallway instead of your mind.

There are endless possibilities on where this boy could be. For all you know, he might be right where all the battle droids are. If you go to him then, you’ll just endanger him more with yourself included.

But you can’t leave him behind. Maker knows he must be feeling worse than you, especially for a young one.

Getting closer to the noise makes you less sure of everything, though. Two times already you have had to flatten yourself to the wall when a battle droid runs past, in an effect to hide from them. Every single thing that moves has you on edge, even when your mind tricks you into seeing things that aren’t there.

Yet, as you expected, you find the boy so close to the battle at hand that he may as well be in the thick of it. He’s crouched behind a crumbled half wall near the assembly hall, a fleet of battle droids ahead of him. Between you and them is a long hallway, an opening on your left and right.

Peeking around each corner, you make certain that when you gain the courage to move from your spot, you won’t collide with a battle droid or their line of fire.

It seems they’re too focused on their attack to notice him, or you, so with an insane amount of luck, you run across the opening and kneel by his side, trying to keep hidden from the flimsy cover that there is for the two of you.

“I’m here,” you tell the boy. “Come with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

He’s been crying, his fist still balled up at his cheek as the tears stream down his face. Whimpering, he holds his arms out to you and you lift him in your hold, carrying him at your side, and dash back the way you came after assuring the coast is clear.

Unfortunately, when you’re about to turn the corner, you’re met with a large group of battle droids who weren’t there before. Gasping, you manage to duck behind the wall before they can notice you and set the child on the floor, kneeling beside him.

“We need to wait here a moment. Don’t make a sound—”

Your voice is buried beneath another explosion, nearer this time as it happens right behind the wall. The strength of it shakes the ground and you wrap the boy in your arms to shield him from the smoke and rubble, hoping that the ceiling won’t collapse.

There’s gunfire and flashes of red and blue as the sounds of the droids grow nearer, and you wonder if there’s any time to run away, though you know you won’t make it halfway down the hallway before you’re shot at.

A shadow grows near and you cover the boy more, hoping to at least protect him, until a hand grabs your shoulder and you shriek, turning to meet your attacker face to face.

But it’s a face you know too well and are relieved at seeing him standing there.

“Obi-Wan!” You reach a hand to hold onto his robes and he lowers to his knee, watching you with worrisome eyes.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, bringing the hand on your shoulder up to your cheek.

You shake your head. “No, no. But the boy,” you move an inch to show Obi-Wan the child behind you. “We need to get him to the bunker.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan affirms. “Keep to my side.”

There’s no place you’d rather be right now, nodding as you follow him closely with the boy holding your hand. You’re relieved to see that he’s stopped crying. In fact, he’s quite transfixed with the Jedi leading you both down the hallway.

Obi-Wan is more strategical than you, so he keeps you all seemingly invisible to the battle droids you maneuver around, and you feel more at ease now that he’s here.

The drive you had to protect the boy is now kept under a blanket and you grow restless to get to the bunker since you’ve gone through enough excitement for one day. Once is more than enough to try and be brave. You just want to hide again.

As you all approach the door to the worker’s corridor, Obi-Wan lets you and the boy step ahead of him. You pat the boy’s back and urge him to follow the path until he reaches the bunker entrance and as he begins to run, Obi-Wan’s hand comes to rest on your back.

“Lock the door behind you,” he says, still attentive to the noise happening around the palace.

“Aren’t you coming too?” You ask.

“No, there’s still more fighting to be done.”

“Don’t fight, Obi-Wan. Come with us.”

He smiles weakly, caressing your cheek with his soft but calloused hand. “I want nothing more, but I want to protect you first.”

“But—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as another explosion sets off, this time within the hallway you’re standing in. The distance of it not only rattles the ground but shakes you as well, and Obi-Wan is diving forward, his arms wrapping around you, to push you both behind the corner and away from the blast.

It’s a powerful explosion that takes down the support beams, effectively taking down part of the ceiling, too. The structure crumbles at the corner, creating a mountain of debris that blocks the way and so there’s no going back now.

With the push, you’re sent down to the ground with Obi-Wan above you, his body shielding you from the damage.

When at last the smoke clears, he’s helping you to sit up against the wall, his hands on either side of your face, brushing away soot and dust.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking you over from head to toe.

Coughing, you shake your head at him, feeling the anxieties of being in danger rise like hot liquid from the pit of your stomach all the way to your throat, and you begin to cry.

“No, I’m not okay— I’m fine but I’m not okay,”

“Hey,” he coos, tilting your head enough to look him in the eyes. “There, there, my dove. I promise you I’ll get you out of here.”

“I’m scared, Obi-Wan,”

“I am too,” he brings one hand down to yours, squeezing it tightly. “But I’m a man of my word. I will protect you.”

Deep down, right through all the worry, you know that he’ll keep you safe. If not by all the heroic acts you’ve heard about and now seen for yourself, then for all the times he’s been kind to you. All the laughter, the touches, and the quiet moments just for you both. You trust him with your life and you know he’ll take care of you.

On the outside, though, you’re shaking. The explosion has startled you so much, seeing as it was so close, and the knowledge of if Obi-Wan hadn’t pushed you when he did, you might have been crushed under the rubble.

Thoughts speak louder than words but in this case your actions are screaming; trembling with your back to the wall and tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Obi-Wan’s hand at your cheek brushes featherlike circles there, effectively wiping your tears. He whispers your name, grounds you with more surety, then leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

The gasp gets stuck in your throat but you immediately still, eyes wide as he kisses you with gentle, potent lips. He whispers to you again, this time through the Force, and you hear him; my dove. Oh, my dove. I love you.

By those words alone, all the tension dissolves. Reaching a hand out to clutch hold of his tunic, you whimper against his kiss, closing your eyes and allowing his lips to soothe your fears.

With his affections, your shaking stops. He’s auspiciously sedated all the nerves you felt, making your senses crystal clear when he leads you through the storm. He keeps you far from the danger, navigating around droids, damage, and conflict.

At last, meeting the others on the outskirts when it’s clear enough for them to travel the escape route, Obi-Wan carefully helps you aboard the ship with everyone inside.

The ship itself is compatible for water, hovering there for now until the top of it will close and sail under to get away from here. Obi-Wan stands on the bay, one boot in the water, with his hand in yours as he makes sure you climb aboard securely.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, offering a smile that eases your concern. “I’ll see you again.”

When the ship doors shut and it dips beneath the water, you wonder if you truly will see him after this. With the battle, it will take months before you and the others can safely return, especially the countess. Living secluded will need to be your new way of life.

That’s exactly what it becomes. In fact, you’re away from home—or what you call it, seeing as growing up there is the earliest memory you have—for a year.

To assure the safety of the people and the countess, you travel from port to port and remain with various folk for intermittent times. You try your best to hear reports about the war and of the Jedi, hoping that you’ll hear news of the man whom you love. And who loves you.

Knowing that he does only makes the time away torturous, not truly sure if you’ll see him again like he promised, though you trust him completely. Whether the uncertainty is there because of your safety or his, or if time and events will allow it.

By the time a year is up and news reaches you that it’s safe to return, the palace is hardly such a thing at all. The grounds, the gardens, the structures, and the homes are all in ruins. It takes months to repair all the damage and by the time you feel yourself back to routine, it’s nowhere near complete.

Walking the gardens is the only comfort you get in such distressing times. The war is still ongoing and you know that at any point, you all may need to flee again. But in this place, your swirling thoughts cease. You simply exist freely amongst the flowers, swaddled by memories of walking along the stone railing with your sweet Jedi.

There’s no hand to hold yours as you walk the railing, your shoes scraping the stone as you take each step. In a silly way, you’re not entirely upset about the fact if you fall. After being away for so long, it may be the only time you feel again.

Yet, when you slip, you feel your heart sink at the expectation of hitting the grass, only for a hand to slide into yours, fingers interlinked tightly, and a shoulder pressing on your arm to prevent you from tipping over.

When you look down to see who caught you, all the breath leaves your lungs. It’s him. Your Jedi, your love. Your Obi-Wan.

You say his name excitedly, watching his lips upturn into that bright grin he’d show you on sunny afternoons, and throw away his effort in supporting you as you leap off the railing right into his arms.

He catches you like he always does, holding you securely to him as he buries his face in your neck, pressing featherlike kisses to the skin and whispering your name over and over again.

“I promised you, didn’t I, my dove?” He speaks. “I would take you to the beach.”

A relieving and altogether elated chuckle bubbles from your lips, leaning back a fraction to look into those lovely cerulean eyes of his.

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” you say, smiling brightly. “I love you.”

He smiles in return, brushing a hand along your cheek. “And I love you.”

Your heart swelters, feeling full of life again. Any adversity ahead of you now is small in comparison to the assurance of Obi-Wan’s love.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead and then your cheek. He ghosts a kiss on the tip of your nose, hovering his lips above yours before raising the hand he holds into the space, kissing your knuckles.

As soon as your hand moves away, Obi-Wan leans into you completely, kissing you deeply. He’s gentle and amorous, guided by an affection truthful to the words he assured you now so long ago. With fingers intertwined, he pours his devotions between incandescent kisses.

In between the marble pillars of the palace, deep within the gardens filled with heart and soul and ghosts of the lives lived before now, Obi-Wan kisses you with a crystal clear love that glimmers for time indefinite.

Taglist: @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @kyber-crystal @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @pradahux @inukako @whyiminlove @cosmicsierra @dxnxdjarxn @voidmalfoy @darthkenobii @iamtracyz @chogisss @nectav @disastereyebags @hellolitty @stareyeddie @liviiii98 @dameronology @overly-obssessed-with-you @onewholikesthings @shadowhuntyi @greeneyedblondie44 @doublesunsets @night-ace @mkr31011

[thechaoticfanartist]

Obi-Wan gets less than a minute screen time and y'all go crazy. Yes it was cool to see him again, and the mullet + armor combo was amazing but he was a background character.

Tales Of The Jedi is about Dooku and Ahsoka. It is not about Obi-Wan’s less than a minute appearance in one episode, and brief mention in another. Don't make it about Obi-Wan.

Even better than Tales Of The Jedi? Andor. Andor is an excellent show and it is being overshadowed by Tales Of The Jedi. Obi-Wan Kenobi was trending every new episode and I have yet to see that same love for Andor. Andor may not have Jedi but it is such an important and good show. It is far better than Obi-Wan Kenobi was and better than Tales Of The Jedi that keeps the whitewashed clone models despite changing Ahsoka’s outfit, updating Anakin’s model, and giving Obi-Wan new hair.

Sincerely, an Obi-Wan fan who is sick of seeing Obi-Wan trending when there's even better content out.

[sardonic-the-writer]

Teasing a character could be /r or /p and any character, any fandom.

first excuse to do something star wars related!! hell yeah!

•Obi Wan doesn't understand why you are so set on acting like this in battle

"(Y/n), why do you always—" He blocked another blaster shot with his lightsaber. A grunt slipped from his lips, strands of his hair falling in his face. "—insist in this frivolous banter." He spared only a moments glance at your grinning figure before continuing to send the enemies ammo flying back at them. He heard your laugh. Along with the sound of your own blaster sounding out and hitting its mark.

"Because it's funny." You shrugged, doing a brief drop to avoid a red streak of deadly heat. Obi Wan rolled his eyes abd twirled his saber. You reminded him so much of Anakin sometimes. Just less physically and tactically reckless. That personality trait lied all in your verbal department.

•It's not just durring fights with speratist scum that you choose to make comments that—more often than not—fly over Obi Wans head

•Not because he didn't understand the jabs you made at him that is, trust me with a Palawan like Anakin he knew a quip when he heard one, but moreover the fact that you genuinely didn't mean to upset him. Like your teasing was just a way of bonding with him. After so many years fighting in battles and now a galactical war he wasn't used to having such a casual relationship with someone outside of the force

•Truth be told the action of your verbal berating never really upset him. In fact he had come to like it over time, the feeling increasing as he spent more and more time by the side of famous republican General (Y/n)

•The problem lied within one of the Jedis most important rules of code. To not form attachments

"I've been meaning to ask Kenobi. Whatever happened to that mullet of yours? I liked the look you were going for. Like uhhh, a middle aged dad having a mid life crisis." You moved your generals cap aside to scratch at your scalp, pace matching Obi Wans as the two of you strolled down one of the Jedi temples many hallways.

"Oh? Do you not like my new haircut (Y/n)?" He meerly hummed, stroking at his well trimmed beard absent mindedly. You mocked his tone with a funny voice, a smug and satisfied smile breaking out once you coaxed a small chuckle out of the auburn haired man.

Obi Wan caught himself before he could more however, suddenly straightening up and clearing his throat.

"Now, what did the council send you to tell me, General?"

You frowned slightly at the sudden change in attitude and title. But you relented, indulging him in your point of business; albeit with less of a pep in your step.

•Sometimes he wished you weren't so entertaining. Obi Wan hated the thought of losing someone else close to him. Someone he couldn't save. It only made it worse that Anakin had blossomed a similar relationship with you as he had, his walls coming down bit by bit every time he continued to meet you

•It got to the point where he'd be meditating almost daily; seeking help from Yoda about his predicament without directly mentioning your name (although the elder master had an inkling of an idea who Obi Wan spoke of)

•But for now, he had resulted in enjoying those fleeting interactions as much as he could, only wishing he could show how much you make him want to smile without straying from the Jedi

[greenreticule]

Details on Dexter Jettster in The High Republic!

HE’S BACK, AND HE’S A REOCCURING CHARACTER IN The High Republic Adventures COMICS, STARTING NOVEMBER 30th, 2022!

[ID: Dexter Jettster, a four-armed alien with a boney crest on his head, a wattle on his chin, and a huge mustache, dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt with a tan cape, black pants, and four blaster holsters, on a stage sharing a rousing tale with an audience. End ID.]

From Daniel José Older (the writer)’s Twitter:

And here, of course, is the one and only Dexter Jettster. In this era, we meet him as a master storyteller — a side of Dex you had probably intuited from his too brief on camera moment, but I wanted to see more of. He travels the galaxy having adventures and telling tales 

also MUSTACHE!!!!!

was very happy to be able to include him as a full part of the team and not just a walk on cameo. It’s a big ass team, in part because I kept coming up with new guys and also getting the legacy guys I asked for, so that’s wild, but they need all the help they can… 

Also a note on Dex: one thing I try to be mindful of in my writing is how we represent different body types, particularly fat ones, because of the long history of getting it wrong.

But the issue with slimming down a fat character when they’re younger wasn’t on my radar until [another twitter user, unsure if they want to be mentioned here] tweeted about it in a thoughtful thread a few weeks ago. I went to look at how we’d repped Dex in issue 1, which was already done at that point.

And I really wasn’t sure if we’d done that. The folks I checked with weren’t sure either. Decided to err towards getting it right and reached out to my excellent editor Matt to discuss, and we agreed to ask Toni [the artist] to make sure Dex looks properly fat in the upcoming issues

the in-story premise being that he’s wearing some body armor in the first two issues that he finally gets to take off later. Don’t usually go this in depth on issues that haven’t come out yet, but I think it’s important to be up front about these things.

critique is a sign of a healthy community.

There are many ways to do it, many ways to receive it, many variables in the equation. But this to me is a really good opportunity to be up front about process and the things we can miss. 

Doesn’t really matter what the intentions are when it’s a comic that thousands of people will read. The effect is what matters.

---

I cannot tell you how delighted I am that we not only get Dexter Jettster as a reoccuring character, we also get him as a reoccuring character by a team who are explicitly looking to avoid fatphobia in their work.

Just... holy shit WHAT JOY!!! It’s the thing I have wanted most from a Dex story, and honestly the thing I was never expecting to get, because fatphobia is so ingrained and acceptable.

Now if only Older and Co. can confirm him as demi-panromantic asexual transmasculine... :P

(Hey, a book earlier this year got away with coding Obi-Wan Kenobi as aroace so like IT’S POSSIBLE)

---

For more general details on The High Republic Adventures comic:

The lead character of this run of The High Republic Adventures is Sav Malagán, a Jedi Padawan who sneaks out of the Jedi Temple on Takodana to party with the pirates in Maz Kanata’s castle.

[ID: Comic panels of a young, scrawny alien girl with green skin. Though a Jedi Padawan, she is pulling on distinctly piratey clothes, arming herself with a blaster. Her final outfit is a wide-brimmed metal hat, a poncho that nearly drowns her, and trousers that spill out of boots that are just a bit too big for her. She is ready for adventure! End ID]

Sav shows up for a few issues as a Jedi Master in the 2021 run of The High Republic Adventures. This upcoming 2022 run with Dex acts as a sort of prequel to the 2021 series. However, the upcoming run focusing on Sav’s Padawan years is supposed to be available to newcomers as well, so you can start off your High Republic journey with Dex, Sav, and the rest of Maz’s pirates.

But if you want more Sav (because she is awesome), please read the first run of The High Republic Adventures - available in full now - as well as the manga The High Republic: Edge of Balance, where she is a major character in Volume 2.

[dez78]

Making His Mark

Fandom: Clone Wars

Rating: PG 

Warnings: Slight mention of smut, reader is gender neutral

Pairings: Plo Koon X Reader, Rex X Reader, Wolffe X Reader

Summary: You try to hide the love bites left from your lover from the night before.

Tags: Dominant, Love bites, Hickeys, Embarrassment, Teasing

(Y/N)= Your name

Rex: You are in the briefing with Rex, Anakin, and Ahsoka. Listening to Master Kenobi and Commander Cody. You carefully pull your tunic higher up on your collar bone, you and Rex had quite the night before. Rex was the first to notice your gesture and snorted a laugh. You blushed a deep red and scoffed at him, if anyone found out about your relationship, both of you would be expelled. Anakin glanced at you briefly but turned back to Obi-Wan. 

Rex casually strolled over to you, he brushed the small of your back, you jumped, Ahsoka this time turned to you, she eyed you for a minute, but then turned her full attention back to Obi-Wan. Rex leaned into you and whispered, 

“Seems, my love is getting attention. Go on, show them.” Rex smirked as he slid your tunic down, revealing his trail of love bites along your neck and chest. The briefing ended and Anakin turned to you. 

“What happened to you (Y/N)?” He questioned, you pinched your eyes shut and blushed a dark red, Rex only laughed as he grabbed your waist. Rules be damned anyway. Anakin didn’t say anything, he only smirked. He walked away with Ahsoka who also had a devious grin. You turned to Rex, 

“That was uncalled for. They don’t need to know.” You hissed, Rex rolled his eyes, 

“Ain’t like Skywalker is going to tell on us.” He said, you huffed your response as you followed Rex, who was catching up with Anakin. 

Plo Koon: You stood with the Jedi general, the two of you made love just the night before, it was slow and sensual, but also needy. This night however, your lover decided now would be a good time to mark you. Since Plo didn’t wear his mask in his quarters at night, he removed it and left his mark on you. Many bruises on your skin. 

You brought your arm up to cover them casually, but Plo grabbed your arm gently and held it at your side. This was not a good time; you were speaking with Master Fisto about the current mission. You trembled, if you got caught, the two of you would be in deep trouble. 

Why such fear, my dearest? Let them know you are mine. 

The words made you shiver delightfully, you could see Plo smile beneath his mask when you looked up at him. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Kit questioned, you looked up, 

“Quite. Why?” You asked, 

“Well your neck is all bruised? Did you get into a brawl?” Kit questioned. Your face immediately drained of all color. Plo let go of your arm, 

“Y-yes...I mean no.” You stammered, you cursed yourself, you sighed and tried again. 

“I got into a brawl yes, but I am fine.” You replied meekly. Your color only returning to paint your cheeks a deep red. Kit nodded understandingly and dismissed himself. 

Once he was out of sight, you glared up at Plo, he gave you a seemingly innocent look. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, 

“You always get me in trouble.” You grumbled, 

“I do, but you must admit. You wear my marking well, little one.” Plo replied as he walked away swiftly, you followed him, your cheeks still red. 

Wolffe: The two of you stood before the Jedi council through a hologram call, it was urgent business. Wolffe stood tall, his chest puffed out, his arms behind his back, a smug smirk on his face as you tried desperately to cover the many love bites, he had given you the night before. He was proud of his work; he left his mark on you. 

Like a man starved, that’s how he treated you last night. Growls, love bites, and bruising your hips. You were his and he wanted everyone to know it. Even if it meant the two of you would be dismissed from the military. Maybe that’s what he wanted, after all this was just another pointless war. 

“(Y/N), you seem distracted.” Mace scolded you, 

“I’ve had a rough night, master. Forgive me, I got little sleep.” You said, it was mostly true, but not for the right reasons. Wolffe laughed at this, proudly you may add. You rolled your eyes, luckily the masters didn’t catch on and continued. 

Wolffe went up to you and rolled your tunic off your shoulders a bit, 

“No, show the galaxy that you are mine, show them how pretty you look with my marks all over your skin.” Wolffe said, he bites your earlobe and you gasped softly, your cheeks turning a humiliating red when the council members look your way. Wolffe had moved out of the way, the teasing would have to wait for later, now was the secrecy. The masters, eyed you a moment, but then resumed. You sighed out in relief. 

“You almost got me in trouble, you nerf herder.” You hissed in a whisper, Wolffe only laughed at you, 

“You love me, and you know it.” He snorted at you, you glared at him sharply. 

“You’re impossible.” You snapped as you folded your arms, 

“You’re beautiful when you’re mad.” Wolffe continued to mock you, your frown furthered, while he simply laughed, enjoying every moment.