#i mean the amount of times i sobbed thinking about the clones

[ghostlj]

this was such a beautiful episode.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Okay but I would LOVE to here your heretical opinions on Padame if you ever want to share them or any of your other views on star wars prequel characters. Your character analysises are INCREDIBLE and really fun to read <3

Oh boy, are you sure about that? Well, the ask has been made so here, we, gooooooooooooooo!

Padme’s one of those strange characters who appears as one thing but in actuality is quite different. Because she appears as the first thing, and it’s something people really like, most people accept that at face value and if she’s not always consistent--well, she came from a series of screenplays written by George Lucas.

Padme comes across as a very noble, kind, and courageous character who is also quite politically savvy. At fourteen, against all odds, she saves her planet from invasion when the Senate did nothing, secured herself an ally in the chancellor (nevermind him being secretly Palpatine), and even after relinquishing her title as queen remains a major player in the senate for years and is seen as enough of a threat to warrant several assassination attempts (one so bad she has to be guarded by Jedi and sent home to Naboo for several weeks). 

And I’m not saying she’s not any of these things. Padme is very courageous, is one of those odd politicians who... believes she stands for what she believes in (more on this later), and has a remarkable political career.

However, she’s also romantic to the point of being completely and utterly delusional, self-centered, and frankly a little nuts.

(Yeah, you knew you were waiting for me to say something terrible, WEREN’T YOU?!) Right, so what’s wrong with Padme?

Well, if you look closely at a few of her choices, the ones that never seemed to make much sense, then you can look at her other choices and... Well, it all sort of comes together. 

That’s right, I’m talking about “Attack of the Clones” and “Revenge of the Sith”.

Attack of the Clones we have the very lackluster and strange romance of Anakin and Padme.

On Anakin’s end, his infatuation with Padme makes a lot of sense. She was part of the party that rescued him from slavery, she was very kind to him, and was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. Ten years later, always having harbored a crush on her memory and keeping it alive through whatever news he hears of her, she’s grown into a very beautiful woman and Anakin is by chance introduced back into her life. I get why Anakin falls head over heels for Padme, I’ll get more into this later and how their relationship has some major issues (aside from the obvious), but I understand why he marries this girl out of nowhere even when it could get him thrown out of the Jedi. (As an aside, since this is more of a Padme post, I think Anakin was spurred on in part also by the death of his mother and his massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Anakin’s life was flipped upside down in a very short amount of time, one of his great emotional ties is suddenly gone, and I think he has this internal crisis that culminates in him deciding to marry Padme. Without this, he and Padme may have become lovers, but I don’t think he’d marry her).

On Padme’s end... it’s a little less clear. Anakin has grown into an attractive young man, yes. Take out all of George Lucas’ dialogue, and maybe Padme finds Anakin very charming. However, Padme secretly marries a Jedi she’s known for three weeks. Now, I’d be a bit more forgiving of this, love is love and we can’t always think rationally, but there’s some other things.

Unlike Anakin, Padme hasn’t been spending the past ten years romanticizing her memory of Anakin Skywalker. When they met in Phantom Menace, Anakin was not only five years younger than her, he was nine-years-old. To fourteen-year-old Padme, Anakin was not then dating material and was instead this poor boy in slavery. Which means while Anakin has build up justifying this rapid romance, Padme really doesn’t. What this means is that her romance with Anakin reads a lot more like a romantic fantasy. Cute dashing bodyguard shows up, saves her life, through contrived circumstances they’re sent back to beautiful Naboo where they spend time together, only cute bodyguard is a Jedi and can’t marry, which makes their love excitingly taboo! 

Everything Padme does, before and after this point, lends itself to this overdeveloped sense of romance. Padme wants to be whisked away, wants to have this secret unsustainable marriage with a man who cannot be married, she’s in love with the idea of being in love. Given how little time she spends with Anakin, how little they really know of each other, I’d say she’s more in love with the idea of Anakin than Anakin Skywalker himself. And this isn’t a bad thing necessarily, or at least not a grievous flaw, however, that’s not all. 

Padme chooses to marry Anakin knowing he murdered an entire village of men, women, and children. She marries him almost immediately after the massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Note, she does not learn about this later and have to come to terms with it, she is right there. She is on Tatooine with him and sees him go to do it and then return. 

Padme doesn’t take it... particularly well, that said, she also seems to shove it under the carpet immediately. She, first, marries Anakin within days after this event. She second, never really has a “holy fuck, Anakin” conversation with him. And worst yet, she never confesses to anyone else. Padme is a hypocrite and willing to sacrifice everything she believes in, albeit I believe unwittingly, for her romantic fantasy.

She tells no one about what happened. An entire village was brutally massacred, those who are already poor and oppressed and have no voice, by a man who is supposed to be a protector of all people in the galaxy. I’m sorry, Anakin, but if Padme was who you think she is then she would have to tell the Jedi Order at the very least if not the Republic. Instead, there are no consequences, only Anakin’s descent into guilt and madness as three years pass with it festering in the back of his mind.  Padme does not stand for the poor, for the people, or for justice. She only does so when it does not conflict with her own interests, i.e. her actions regarding the invasion of Naboo. More, I do not believe Padme has the introspection to realize this about herself, she never realizes that not narking on Anakin was very very very bad. Three years pass and she lives the whirlwind romantic fantasy that she and Anakin both want. They’re secret lovers/spouses, meeting up at the oddest hours of the day and... This is three years of this ridiculous affair. Three years to come to terms with the fact that something must change. And then the kicker, Padme gets pregnant, and this is where the extra delusional comes in.

The child should have been a signal of the end. There can be no more secret now. Padme is having a child, presumably out of wedlock, and even if space is very very very different from our society I imagine this would be quite the scandal that could even get her thrown out of the senate. I believe Padme mentions as much to Anakin. More, Anakin is no longer a lover, he is now a father. What’s supposed to happen now? They raise this secret child, instructing them that Anakin is only a father in private, never in public?

Anakin and Padme briefly flirt with the idea of Anakin leaving the order. Anakin even wants to do so, but it... never happens. Now is the time it absolutely should happen. Yes, Anakin’s a big part of the war effort, but he could at least start talking to the Order and they could decide if it’d be a slow or fast exit. 

My theory, Padme’s too in love with the fantasy. Anakin leaving means he’s no longer a Jedi, it means he’ll come to Naboo, be unemployed and be around. Anakin visiting will no longer be this romantic, fraught with the danger of being found out, passionate, short lived event for Padme. It’ll become real life. He’ll be a real, ordinary man, she’ll be a real, ordinary, woman, and that spark of romance will be gone.

I don’t think Padme wants that. 

Which is why, even with the child on the way, we see Anakin and Padme continue to play out this ridiculous secret lovers fantasy. And then, of course, Anakin goes insane off screen.

Padme is told that, once again, Anakin has murdered dozens of children. Of course, this is a terrible thing to be told and she can’t process it. She needs to find Anakin and confront him, but people always criticize Lucas here and feel it’s out of character for Padme to have run to Anakin in sobbing hysterics with no plan of enacting vengence.

Frankly, I think it’s very in character. She did nothing about the Tuskens, remember? I think at the end of the day, the murder of the Jedi children means very little to her. What hurts Padme the most is that the fantasy of Anakin she married is not real. The Anakin she married would never murder the Jedi children, betray the Republic, or do any of what he’s done. And I think Padme only has that strong, iron, will when she knows the world she’s in. With the Trade Federation, her stance was obvious. Her people were being oppressed, butchered, and invaded. In this case, the world she knew no longer exists.

The Republic is gone, perhaps hasn’t existed in thirteen years, as it turns out the senator who had always been her biggest supporter was a Sith Lord. The Jedi are gone, children murdered by Anakin while those in the field are picked off by their own clone soldiers. Padme’s world has fallen apart, and I think that makes it much harder for her to be the girl we saw in Phantom Menace. In time, perhaps, she would have joined the rebellion but... I do think Padme might have also given into despair.

So, yeah, that’s Padme for you.

[lesbobiwan]

Could I ask for 33 and 100 with Rex or Cody? I might be obsessed with your blog...

of course!! thank u for the request!

#33: "Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” and #100: "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you." + Cody

warnings: sub!cody inspired by this art by @thiccumz and this fic by @zinzinina, strap ons, f!reader, pegging, the word slut is used a few times, cody wearing lingerie

You know he doesn't mean to encourage behavior like this. You know this woman is drunk and doesn't mean anything by it.

Still, none of these thoughts do much to quell the fire that burns deep in your chest and threatens to spill out your throat as the woman titters at something Cody said and rests a hand on his forearm.

"You're so funny, Commander," she purrs, trailing her fingers up Cody's arm. You hear the scratch of her nails against Cody's skin and the stuttered words of the commander as he tries to back away.

His eyes catch yours multiple times from across the bar, but there isn't much you can do besides pour drinks and try not to lose your head.

You doubt your boss would like it too much if you got into a fight with some drunk woman because she scratched your boyfriend a little.

But it's not just that.

It's the flush of Cody's cheeks as her nails trail up his arm. You make him blush like that. You make his words catch in his throat and his breath hitch. Not some lady looking to add a clone commander to the notches on her bedpost.

The woman stays with him all night. Miraculously, she stays on her feet despite the unholy amount of drinks she's ingesting. Unfortunately, company policy is to not cut off customers if they aren't incapable of walking.

You'll hand it to the woman, she can hold her liquor.

On one hand, you're grateful for Cody. He's a watchful eye on the woman, making sure no one slips something in her drink or tries to coax her to bed.

On the other hand, you're angry at him. It's irrational, but you wish he would just tell her to get lost. He's your boyfriend.

Oh well. His ass will pay the price.

Literally.

You finally approach his spot at the bar, having just rung out the last tab and been given the all-clear to head home, as is your routine.

"Can I get you anything else, Commander?" You ask, like you do every night he comes to your bar. You can almost forget about the woman when you just focus on him.

Cody immediately perks up, lips curling into his boyish smile that only you get the privilege of seeing. "Maybe some advice?" he replies, like always — like he's done since the very first night you met him just like this — "There's this bartender that's been eyeing me all night. Think I should ask her for her number?"

You pretend to ponder it, even though the first time he had asked you that question all those cycles ago you responded without hesitation, "I don't know. This bartender — she cute?"

Cody whistles appreciatively, "The cutest."

"Then, I think you should give it a shot," you drop your voice, leaning over the bar and just barely pushing your chest out in his direction.

His eyes drop down to the low-riding neckline of your shirt and you smother your victorious grin behind pursed lips.

"C'mmand'r," the woman slurs, finally making herself known, "I thought we were g'nna get out of —"

"You thought wrong," you snap, and it's laced with only a fraction of the venom you feel swirling around your mouth. "Your cab is out front. I suggest you get lost."

(You had taken the liberty of calling her a ride home before you clocked out.)

Your hand closes around Cody and you pull him out of the bar without waiting for her response.

Perks of living right by the bar you work at: a short walk when all you want to do is go home and fuck the life out of your boyfriend.

Faults of living right by the bar at: not enough time to fully plan exactly how you're going to fuck the life out of your boyfriend.

Cody stumbles after you, "I didn't flirt with her," he tells you, even though you know that. Cody would never. He's too good to you.

"I don't care," you seethe, unlocking the door to your apartment and pushing him through the threshold.

You step in after him, and as soon as you have the door closed, you're spinning him around and pinning him against the wood that's definitely seen better days. "Call me selfish," you pant into the space between you, "But I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

Cody blinks owlishly at you, mouth dropped open in surprise. This close, you can feel his hot breath fanning against your lips and his thudding heartbeat from where your chests are pressed together.

He starts to whisper your name, voice drenched in arousal, but you cut him off.

"Get to the bedroom. Clothes off. I need to grab something from the bathroom." You inform him, and one of your hands trail up to scratch lightly beneath his jaw.

Cody can't stifle his groan at your words. His cock hardens through his pants, pushing against your thigh, and you can't help but grind your thigh against him before pulling back.

"Go."

His feet smack against the floor as he stumbles away in his enthusiasm to get to the bedroom.

Cody loves it when there's something you need to grab from the bathroom.

You take your time in grabbing the harness and selecting which fake cock you think will best suit tonight's purpose. You linger after grabbing the lube, taking the time to make sure there's nothing in your teeth. You carefully pull off your clothes and step into the harness, making sure you're strapped in tight.

By the time you get to the bedroom, you're sure there's nothing that can throw you off your game. You're about to rock Cody's world. You're infallible, unflappable.

And then you walk into the room and Cody's wearing lingerie.

A beautiful yellow, almost a dark gold that's identical to his armor. Delicate lace is stretched across his pectorals, cupping the muscles deliciously and you can see the way his hard nipples poke out against the fabric.

You zero in on the garters he's wearing. You want to snap them against his thighs. You want to watch the skin redden beneath. You want you want you want.

His cock strains against the lace that can barely conceal it. There's already a little wet spot where the tip of his cock is. Fuck, he's leaking already.

"D'you like it?"

You snap your gaze back up to Cody's.

His face is flushed, and he shifts atop your bed like he's shy, like he doesn't know that you want nothing more than to sit and look for the rest of your life.

"Oh, Cod'ika," you breathe, stepping closer and kneeling on the bed. Your hands trail up his thighs, running along the garter that you're just itching to pull back and let bite into his skin. "You're beautiful."

Cody flushes even more, ducking his head down. His hands flit nervously along the lace that wraps around his waist. "Just wanted to surprise you," he whispers, fingers fiddling with the fabric.

"Fuck, I could just eat you up," you whisper before rising up to press your lips to his.

Immediately, Cody goes boneless against your kiss. His lips go slack and he eagerly welcomes your tongue, offering up no resistance as you dominate the kiss.

Stars, kissing Cody like this gives you such a headrush. This is better than any spice in the galaxy.

"Hands and knees," you whisper against his lips.

Cody whimpers before arranging himself into position. He drops down onto his elbows instead of staying propped up on his hands, sending his back into an enticing arch.

Such a little cockslut, you think to yourself, growing wet beneath the harness.

You don't touch him yet, content to just let him wait.

Instead, you pop open the bottle of lube, noticing how Cody jolts at the sound of the bottle cap cracking open.

There's no back to the lingerie, only strap framing his ass that hold up the lace in the front that holds his cock. Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

"Just look at you," you whisper, inching closer to his trembling form on the bed. "You that much of a slut that you had to wear lingerie underneath your clothes all day?"

Cody's moan is muffled into the sheets. The muscles of his back ripple with how he shifts his upper body in anticipation.

You press just one lubed up finger to the rim of his asshole, and he immediately jerks beneath you.

"Easy," you soothe as you press your finger past the tight rim of muscle. Your second hand comes up to stroke his hip through the lace.

Cody's next moan is ripped from his throat and almost sounds painful. "More!" he begs, tilting his head to the side. His harsh pants fill the room now that he's not muffling himself.

Good. You want to hear him.

"More?" you repeat, teasing a second finger at his rim. "You want another finger so soon?"

"Please!"

You press your second finger in and immediately begin scissoring your two fingers. "You're so tight," you hiss, rubbing at the beneath his balls.

Cody keens. His cock jerks against the scrap of fabric holding him in.

Fuck you want to taste him.

He rolls his hips back against you, sobbing into the sheets as he rides your fingers.

Your grin is downright feral as you push in a third finger, maybe a bit too soon if his guttural sound is anything to go by, but you know Cody loves a hint of pain with his pleasure. "Pushing back against my fingers already?" You tsk in mock disappointment. "Pathetic."

Cody turns to look at you over his shoulder, and you're delighted to see his eyes wet with unshed tears. "Please, fuck me!" he begs, pushing unashamed against your hand in search for his own pleasure.

You've been pointedly avoiding his prostate. The dildo you picked will compensate for that more than enough.

"You think you're ready?" you ask even as you line up the tip of the silicone to his winking hole.

"Please!"

Your grin is all teeth as you sink in until your hips meet his ass cheeks.

You pull Cody's head up by his hair before he can muffle his wails into the mattress.

His sharp cry of pleasure echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls until you're sure your neighbors can hear it.

Good. You want everyone to hear how you can make Marshall Commander Cody a dripping mess with your cock.

You instantly set a brutal pace, pulling out and pounding back in with long thrusts.

Cody can never shut his mouth when he's fucking you, and it only gets ten times worse when you're the one fucking him.

He's a mess. His eyes roll so far back in his head you think they'll actually get stuck, and his hands grab at your sheets so tightly you hear them start to rip.

You actually have to speak up in order to be heard over the way Cody moans.

"You're stretched so tight around me," you pant, finally giving into the urge to snap the garter against his thigh.

The ensuing yelp is delicious.

"You think that woman at the bar knows you went home and got fucked?" you hiss, snapping your hips harder against him, "You think she knows how much you like to get fucked by your girlfriend?"

Cody wails.

"Fuck, you're such a slut, Cod'ika," you grin and wrap your hand around his cock, pulling him free from his lacy confines.

You jerk him in time with your thrusts, and it isn't long before he's a leaking mess over your fingers.

His body can't seem to decide whether it wants to push back into your thrusts or fuck into the tight circle of your fist. Cody's thighs tremble each time you punch into his tight hole.

"You gonna cum for me?" you purr, pulling him up so his back is pressed flush to your front. You add a twist of your wrist on every upstroke of his cock.

That seems do to the trick.

Cody seizes up around you, clenching so hard around the dildo inside of him that he stops your thrusts as he cums in ropes against his stomach, and eventually dribbling down your knuckles.

You ease the strap-on out of him once he rides out the last of his orgasm and lay him down on his back. You lose yourself in the movements of wiping the cum from his torso and the tears from his cheeks.

You slide the harness off of you, ignoring the slick feeling between your thighs in favor of crawling onto the bed next to Cody and draping your body atop his.

Immediately, his arms wrap around your waist and he buries his nose into your hair.

"I didn't think you flirted with her," you whisper as you trace swirls into his skin.

Cody hums, "I know," he assures you, voice slurred with sleep. "If this is how you're gonna act when someone tries to feel me up, by all means be my guest,"

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Asks: How about some Wrecker Fluff?

Y/N is on her period. She tries to hide the fact from the boys but Hunter can smell it and Tech knows because of his useless facts. Clones probably aren't taught much about the female anatomy as it's not "important" for a Soldier. Wrecker knows something's wrong and after Y/N explains the issue, he ends up bringing her stuff like chocolate and cuddling to make her feel better. Bonus points if she ends up losing her crap on a whole bunch of baddies. Whether it's Droids, bounty hunter, or something else.

I think this is cute- so Ima do it

Strong Muscles Stronger Gut| Wrecker

"Are you. Um..." Hunter spoke.

The two stood in the hanger, both alone.

"What?" Y/n asked.

"You uh...smell...stronger"

"I what!?"

"I mean! Well! You smell...diffrent." Hunter tried to explain, "You do atleast once a month for a week. Are you okay?"

Y/n rubbed her temples- oh so she had to have this talk.

"Yes. Im fine." Y/n spoke, "its a girl thing."

"A. Girl thing?"

"Yeah." Y/n spoke, "Every girl gets- well most, usually around pre teens."

"Its important then?" Hunter asked, "I uh. Know she won't want to go to me about it. She might. I- I don't know-"

Hunter started to ramble, mixing up his words with uhs and ums. He was talking about Omega.

"Can. Uh. You explain it to me? I know it affects you. I just...wanna be there for her you know?"

Y/n nodded, she had explained periods before to boys- men- young girls that were sobbing in the bathroom confused.

Y/n explained what was happening to her body, and what essentially Omega would go through. She told him- everything- spilled all the beans. Y/n had offered to show how much periods really hurt and he agreed saying "its only fair so I understand"

Y/n held his shoulder, he growing increasingly worried.

"What are they doing?" Wrecker asked as he watched them from a far.

Tech looked up from his work, Y/n holding and apologetic face as she then proceeded to slander his guts, kneeing his stomach as hard as possible.

Hunter doubled over letting out a spew of Mando as he went down.

"Yeah thats about a quarter of the pain. But it depends on each girl." Y/n told him, as he was slolwy getting up.

"Remind me never to call you weak even if we are just messing around." Hunter spoke Y/n holding his shoulder.

"Sorry about that..."

"Oh." Tech spoke understanding what was happening, "Y/n must be busy this week then."

"Busy?" Wrecker asked looking at the two, Y/n now in pain as she held Hunter's shoulder leaning over holding her stomach.

"Right now?! You didnt even do anything?!" Hunter complained.

"E-excatly- fuck! Fuck fuck! Ow..."

"Is she okay?" Wrecker asked Tech.

"It will go away- soon- unless. How many days has it been since mid week?"

"Uh..." Wrecker spoke, "three?"

"Makes sense." Tech spoke, "she has most of her pains three days in."

"Three days in of what?" Wrecker spoke.

"Menstruation." Tech spoke, "hand me the-"

Wrecker handed him a tool, "no not- oh yes this one thank you."

"What's Menstruation?" Wrecker asked.

"When a women, in this case, our lovely brutally honest Medic, Y/n." Tech infromed, "is going through a cycle once of month..."

Tech contuined to ramble- Wrecker. Well Wrecker didnt process one piece of information Tech was saying.

"What?" Wrecker asked.

Tech sighed looking back at Wrecker, "she bleeds and has cramps."

"Why is she bleeding? Did she get hurt?"

"Wrecker-"

"Is she okay-"

"Yes-"

"Then why is she-"

"Wrecker!" Tech stopped him, "her monthly bleeding means she's healthy, shes fine. Sure she is emmense discomfort and I certainly hate to see our sister like such, but thats what makes her strong- well also the fact that she can- at any momment be with child, carry the damn thing for almost a year give birth and take a squadron of droids down with just one blaster."

Tech looked back at Wrecker who still looked confused out his mind as Tech sighed, "You know somethings wrong?"

"Yeah." Wrecker answered.

"Go ask her."

"Good idea!"

Wrecker made his way over to Y/n and Hunter the pain Y/n was mild now, she could deal with it.

"Wrecker." They both greeted.

"H-hi."

Y/n looked at him worriedly, "something on your mind?"

"Can. I talk to you?" Wrecker asked, "alone?"

Y/n looked at Hunter, "I'll leave you to it." Hunter responded and left.

Y/n looked up at Wrecker worried, "Wrecker? Hun? What's wrong you look worried?"

"Tech says you're bleeding." Wrecker tried to explain.

"I'm bleeding?" Y/n asked- oh- oh here we go again.

"Y-yeah.." Wrecker spoke rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "and I. Don't really ever understand what comes out of Tech's mouth....unfortunately...and I saw you in pain for the last three days. I just- are you okay?"

Y/n smiled at Wrecker, "Im fine."

"Oh. Oh good." He spoke, not seeming fully satisfied with what she had said, "but uh. Why are you bleeding? Can I stop- We stop you from bleeding?"

"Please I wish you could." Y/n spoke with a light chuckle, "No Wrecker, see women once a month go through a cycle, it unfortunately makes you bleed like you're birthing hell out of your guts but is one of the ways we stay healthy."

"Oh." Wrecker spoke, "so. You bleed to stay healthy? When I bleed Tech's always poking me with needles."

"Well... yes and no. The cycle once a month helps get rid of an egg- well its called an egg, but Im not a chicken alright?" Y/n explained.

Wrecker sat and listened intently to her, something that wasn't really common when learning about what would be considered a random thing to him.

Y/n was pretty impressed by him to say the least. She had never seen him so focused, and it was honestly kind of cute.

"But boys or men don't have it." Y/n told him.

"That doesnt seem fair! Why do you have to suffer?" Wrecker argued as Y/n shrugged with a laugh.

"You tell me." She smiled.

It went silent as he thought intently, "well nothing can make you feel better? While your on your period?"

"Well because of War I've been so busy with fighting That I've only used heat packs and compresses. Usually I just have to fight through it." Y/n spoke, "but I've heard of alot of women saying like affection makes them feel better."

Wrecker hummed in thought, "Hey! Wrecker! Y/n!" Omega called.

The two turning there heads seeing the girl across the hanger with the others.

"We're going to a Cantina for dinner! Come on!"

"Come on Wrecker." Y/n spoke.

They met up with the rest of the group, walking to the Cantina with as usual happy Omega. They sat down for dinner as usual. Talking back and forth with smiles. Wrecker would frown though everytime Y/n winced, closing her eyes taking deep breaths. She was obviously in pain.

"Can I leave earlier?" Wrecker asked.

"Uh, sure?" Hunter asked as Wrecker got up.

"Can I come?!" Omega asked.

"Oh. Uh..." Wrecker spoke, "not this time...sorry Omega."

"Oh." Omega frowned, "Okay then! I'll see you later!"

Wrecker left the group who was relaxing.

"Odd." Tech spoke, "Wrecker always likes to take Omega."

"Maybe he's found a girl." Y/n recommend leaning back and drinking her water.

"I doubt that." Echo spoke, "thats not him"

"Maybe he just wants to go back and sleep?"

"Now that sounds like Wrecker." Hunter admitted.

Y/n shrugged, the group talking casually. Until some bounty hunters came up to them.

"Well hello Doll."

Y/n only contained her arguement about physics with tech.

"Whats a princess like you doing hanging around a few clones?" The man spoke with a purr.

"Call me princess again and you'll have no cock."

The men laughed as the batchers kept quiet, it was bad to mess with her in one of her moods.

"Oh come on Princess. Whats a small fry like you gonna do?"

Y/n quickly grabbed her pistol from her tigh, aiming it at the guys head.

"I warned you didn't I?"

"W-woah now put the-"

She aimed the gun down shooting the man right in the Kenobis.

"FUCK! SHE SHOT ME IN THE DICK!"

"I fucking warned you!" Y/n argued.

"What the hell!" His friends shouted.

Y/n lifted the gun up, "It may just be on electric shock but I will turn it to live ammo!"

"You bitch!"

Y/n growled as they came at her, Y/n grabbing a bottle on the table smashing it against of there heads as they fell to the floor. The third ramming Y/n into the table as he pulled out a knife, Y/n reaching back grabbing a fork and stabbing the man in the shoulder.

He cried out in pain as he fell to the floor.

The group left the cantina after paying, no bystander daring to make a comment. The group returning to the Havoc Maurder.

"Wrecker! Wrecker! You should of been there!" Omega cheered rushing inside to find the large batcher.

Y/n rubbed her stomach in pain, "still bad?' Echo asked.

"Just a bit yeah..." she groaned.

"I can see if we have any heat patches" Echo spoke as Y/n nodded in thanks, the group walking in.

Omega came back out, "Y/n Wrecker wants you in the bunks."

Y/n nodded, Echo handing her a heat patch.

"Thanks."

Opening it with her teeth she walked towards Wrecker and her's shared bunk.

"Yeah Wrecker? Omega said-" She stood seeing Lula on her bed and a large paper bag.

"Hey!" He cheered holding lots of blankets in his hands and in his blacks.

"Hi." She spoke, "whats up?"

"Oh well I heard about the fight." Wrecker spoke, "and uh. I know you've been in pain for a few days so this is to make you feel better!"

Y/n cocked an eyebrow up still confused, Wrecker wrapping her in one of the blankets as she held it so it stayed in place.

"What in the bag?"

"Well me and Omega always go get sweets and it makes us feel good so..."

Y/n walked over seeing the mass amount of choclate bars,

"I bought a few." Wrecker spoke.

A few? More like a whole isle.

"And thought made you'd want a hug." Wrecker recommend, climbing into the bottom bunk, it was often they shared a bunk.

"Oh." Y/n spoke, "uh. Are you sure? I don't wanna...you know bleed on you by accident."

"You've bleed on me on the battle feild how is this any different?" Wrecker spoke with a smile.

Y/n chuckled, only Wrecker.

Wrecker had wrapped a blanket around him waiting with open arms to Y/n. Y/n smiled making her way into his arms, her blanket wrapped around her and his, Wrecker pulling another blanket over them. She smiled head in Wrecker's chest. He rubbed the middle of her back as she hummed in pleasure, her head barried into his warmth.

"Your like a heater..." she spoke muffled as he chuckled, rubbing up and down her spine.

"Do I ever tell you how much I love you?" Y/n purred, "especially your back rubs..."

He kissed her head as she smiled.

"Thank you Wrecker." Y/n told him.

"Anything for you, after all. Your always making sure we're all okay."

[shiftynightshade]

Cody shifted as General Kenobi gestured to the holo-map, a frown accompanying the crease in-between his eyebrows. The general was discussing tactics and strategies with the dreadful Wilffur Tarkin, and the two were debating over the better battle plan.

(It was arguing really, one-sided as it was.)

‘Well’ Cody mused. ‘Which strategy will allow more Vod’e to walk away alive.’

Tarkin was infamous in the GAR, ruthless in all his plans, and he certainly didn’t care about how many brothers died, and if all of them died but the battle was won, all those deaths were overlooked by everyone.

Except the Jedi.

The Jedi treated them like people, sentient beings with thoughts and feeling, not flesh droids. Called them by their names rather than their numbers, mourned them and loved them.

And Cody’s general, Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Negotiator, was the best of them all.

Tarkins’ oily voice was cold and snide as he leered at Kenobi through the hologram.

“Well, General Kenobi” He spat out their Jedi’s title, which evidently didn’t go unnoticed, if nearly every brother on the bridge bristling in offense was any indication. “It seems that we are yet to meet at a compromise, I shall call at a later date to discuss this again.” With a harsh flick the call was cut.

Under his bucket Cody frowned. He hated the way Tarkin talked or looked at his Jedi. Obi-wan had turned around, a scowl in place of his normal charming smile, and Cody longed to run his thumb over those soft pink lips and kiss them sweetly.

The sudden beeping of the comms nearly made Cody jump. Nearly. Though judging by Waxer and Boils snickering, his brothers still noticed. Fuck.

“Kenobi?” Helixes’ drawl trickled through. “The Jedi healers arrived sir.”

Obi-wan nodded, even if Helix couldn’t see it. “Bring them to the bridge, thank you Helix.” Cody sighed internally, whether it was from relief or anticipation, he wasn’t sure yet. The senate had finally caved and ordered for a Jedi healer to be stationed with major and heavy-hitting battalions to assist and to make sure that those Jedi didn’t get themselves killed or captured as more and more cases of force exhaustion and force coma’s quickly rose among the Jedi.

Cody could still remember Pond’s terrified voice trickling through their comms, his breathing laboured and speech borderline hysterical. Sobbing about how during one of Windu’s worse bouts of force exhaustion and headaches, caused by there being too many shatterpoints had left them vulnerable.

Ponds was clutching his generals lightsaber in both fists, hands trembling and obviously trying to not think about what Dooku and Ventress could’ve been doing to his riduur, and he had refused to let go of the lightsaber until they had finally located and retrieved Windu two months later, the master of the order in a force induced coma and still temple bound.

Cody repressed a shudder. The sheer brokenness in Ponds eyes as he stared at the Korrun’s battered body floating lifelessly in the bacta tank, then later spending every day religiously by his side while holding his hand gently, not caring of the days going by as he sat his protective vigil by the comatose Jedi’s side.

Cody pursed his lips. It’s probably for the better.

Obi-wan’s expression morphed into slight confusion, even if it’ was only a slight narrowing of the eyes.

Cody removed his bucket to rest it on his hip and opened his mouth. “Sir?” He was going to say more, but he was cut off by the door to the bridge opening and a scream of “OBI!” echoing in the room. A blur of cream and blue robes and pinkish red skin rushing past him which quickly turned into a hug like tackle, the blur turning out to be a red-pink Calamari woman in a combined set of cream and blue robes, her shout having quickly drawn the attention of everyone on the bridge.

Obi-wan had looked up at the shout, surprise then joy spreading across is face as the calamari latched onto him like a barnacle from Kamino’s oceans.

Cody felt his eyebrows rise, in curiosity, and when Obi-wan hugged the vibrating stranger back just as tightly, he was pretty sure they were going to fly off his head.

Obi-wan smiled warmly, and for one in a long time, it met his eyes.

“Bant! I didn’t expect you to be assigned to u!”

Head against Obi-wan’s chest, the side of the temple where ears on a human would be rested right over his hears. Crys cleared his throat.

“I’m going to guess that you two know each other?”

Obi-wan gave a rare, but blindingly radiant smile. The two shifted so his and Bant’s arms were wrapped around each other’s shoulders a position Cody was familiar with. It was one of kinship and a way to acknowledge siblings.

Bant giggled. “Obi’s my Clanmate and brother in everything but blood.” Cody blinked.

“Clanmate..?” He ventured. “Is that like the vode’s batchmates?”

For a ridiculous moment Cody thought that would’ve been confused about the concept of batchmates, but her large eyes sparkled and she smiled.

“Exactly! There’s a few differences obviously, but the concept is same!”

Cody gave a small smile at the praise, ignoring Cry’s imploring look.

Suddenly Obi-wan straightened. “Everyone, this is Bant Eerin, she’ll be serving alongside our medics for an unprecedented amount of time.” A shiny whose name Cody has yet to learn raised their hand.

Obi-wan nodded at the shiny. “Yes..?” the prompt for their name went unsaid. They shifted on the spot. “Ace sir.” He tapped his fingers against his yet to be painted armour. “If you don’t mind me asking, but what’s different about clanmates?”

Bant smiled. “Great question Ace! Clanmates are like a Jedi initiates family until they are picked by a master, and then they join that lineage’s family.”

She bumped her shoulder against Obi-wan’s with a small grin. “It’s up to an individual whether or not they still consider their clanmates family or not.”

She fiddled with a necklace, the rope and pendant barely noticeable under her robes. “Sometimes a Jedi will switch masters, whether because they requested a change or something happens to the master, then you will be considered apart of two different lineages.”

Obi-wan grinned and nodded. “Does that answer your questions Ace?”

The clone nodded bashfully, a small smile and a soft blush making its way onto his face.

Crys leaned against a console with his arms crossed, but swiftly raised a hand. Obi-wan nodded over at him. “Yes Crys?”

Crys stared at the two Jedi with thinly veiled curiosity, and on the excited shifting from the rest of the Vod’e, they were just as excited to learn.

“What did General Eerin mean by if a Jetti shiny requests a new master?” They all knew what ‘if something happened to the master’ meant. Too incapacitated to teach and raise, or dead.

Bant’s eyes grew sad, while Obi-wan closed his eyes. “If,” Bant began, a mix of grief and anger swirling in her eyes. “-A padawan requests a new master, an investigation is launched immediately for why they want a change.”

Obi-wan took over. “There has been only a few cases of abuse, but they still exist, some instances a master had declining physical or mental health. And both have agreed that it would be safer and more beneficial for both to part ways.”

Obi-wan grew quiet. “And there has only been a handful of time where the master has fallen to the darkside.”

The bridge grew quiet at that. Cody hadn’t seen a Jedi that had fallen outside of Dooku, but he’s heard stories, tales of how they became a shell of their former selves. He shuddered at the idea of an ad’ika happened to be with them…

And Cody dreaded the idea of his general falling. Pale skin splashed with the blood of innocents, Jedi and Vod’e alike, warm blue-green eyes taken over by a cold, molten gold that boiled with rage and hate. His blue lightsaber, usually a blazing symbol of hope and safety, instead replaced with red, a symbol of fear and darkness.

Cody let out a breath. He and the rest f his brothers would rather be cut down or eat their own blasters than fight against their general.

“-Ways Bant, do you need any directions or do you want to go straight to the med-bay?”

Cody jerked out of his head, eternally grateful that he had put his bucket back on.

Bant and Obi-Wan had turned to face each other. Bant smirked. “Are you saying you’re willing to go to med-bay with me?” The bridges occupants collectively held their breaths.

Bant hummed. “Sixty-six seconds Obi, better start running.” Cody watched in amusement as a few clones cheered or yelled out “go general!” as he dashed down the hall, and Cody managed to catch a glimpse of Obi-Wan kicking a vent covering open and leaping into the vents just as the covering fell back into place.

Sixty-six seconds later and Bant stood from where she was sitting and cleared her throat. “Alright, boys!”

She grinned. “Who wants to help me hunt down a rogue patient?”

Cody grinned as Crossbones cheered from his spot next to Crys.

[allthingskenobi]

Obi-Wan in Exile – Vader

(Originally published on AllThingsKenobi.com December 13, 2020)

Welcome to the first in a series of looks into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time in exile on Tatooine between Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. We’ve tried to mine as much Legends and canon material as possible to help guide you through some of the period’s most common and repetitive themes so that when the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series airs, you’ll be ready.

Not everything he ever did in the entire 19 years will be explored here, but as we said, we’ve tried our best to pick out the most prominent and impactful moments to give everyone a better understanding of exactly what one hermit had to endure out there all alone in the sandy deserts of Tatooine.

While Vader himself was not a common reoccurrence throughout Obi-Wan’s exile, the threat of him certainly was…well until now that is. As Vader so often does, he’s recently made his way back to the forefront of the story and will seemingly loom very large over the upcoming series, thus moving us to start with exactly what that might mean for Obi-Wan and how it might work with the canon boundaries we currently have. Yes, we understand that canon can change and probably will, but we do love a challenge.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan muttered. “Vader’s alive.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Let’s start at the beginning. We have one instance in Legends where we see Obi-Wan learn that Vader survived Mustafar and it comes mere months after his exile on Tatooine begins. He first hears the name “Vader” mentioned again on the HoloNet during one of his trips into Mos Eisley and nearly faints before panicking to find a way to take Luke and run. (1) This early recognition seems to be reconfirmed in later canon as one of Ben’s greatest fears in the third year of his exile continued to be “sand crunching beneath heavy black boots, a dark cape billowing in the desert squall, the mechanical wheeze of a respirator.” (2) So will we see Obi-Wan only just learning of Vader’s fate in the tenth year of his exile? I’d say that’s highly doubtful unless the show provides a flashback for us—which we will gladly accept.

“Instead, Padmé was dead and Obi-Wan was running for his life, as stripped of everything as Vader was. Without friends, family, purpose…”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

At the same time, Vader was also very convinced that Obi-Wan was still alive and would remain so despite his greatest efforts. Because if there was one thing Vader was good at it, it was holding a grudge like he held a lightsaber, and he would expend quite a bit of energy over the 19 years between episodes III and IV searching for his old Master. (Just ask anyone he comes across in the comics.) Oh, and let’s not forget that it’s also Vader who would later inform a disbelieving Tarkin, in no uncertain terms, that Obi-Wan was still alive and on the Death Star. (3)

“No, I can’t [leave],” Ben said, firmly. “I must be here.”

KENOBI BY JOHN JACKSON MILLER L

“The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Now that we’ve established that they both knew of each other’s survival, it begs the question as to why their paths never actually crossed in 19 years. Personally, I think it’s fairly simple: Obi-Wan would never leave Tatooine and Vader would never go anywhere near it. We will discuss Obi-Wan not leaving Tatooine more in-depth at a later time (and yes, we know what Ewan said about having a ‘rollicking time’), but Vader would canonically never visit his home planet until well after Obi-Wan and Luke were both gone. (4)(5) And by then it was much too late.

That brings us to the most recent ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ news and how that fits in with what Legends and canon have told us so far. We received a lot of exciting and thought-provoking announcements in a short amount of time, and frankly, our minds haven’t stopped spinning since. Could the show undo what we currently assume to be true? Yes. Could the show work within those same parameters? Also, yes. Do I personally have any idea what’s going to happen? No. DO I THINK THE SHOW IS GOING TO BE AMAZING NO MATTER WHAT? Y E S. The goal of this exercise is to simply try and reconcile the new details to the existing Star Wars lore because I think that’s what makes it interesting. So you can take it or leave it. The choice is yours. (Until it isn’t because the show has aired and this is all pointless.)

HERE WE GO.

“[Deborah] Chow confirmed that audiences will “definitely see Obi-Wan and Darth Vader get into it again” as we see the blue blade of a hooded Obi-Wan clash with the fiery red blade of Darth Vader.”

“McGregor knows the battle will be eagerly anticipated, and he’s looking forward to performing it just as much: “Having another swing at each other might be quite satisfying for everybody. We hope that you enjoy it as much as we’re going to enjoy making it.””

DEBORAH CHOW AND EWAN MCGREGOR DURING THE DISNEY INVESTOR’S REEL

Not only was the “Hayden Christensen returning as Darth Vader” bombshell dropped in our laps, but we were also fed the above morsels (not once but thrice) and told to digest them. Our first reaction was a hearty and well-deserved cry of rejoicing until the realization of what this could all mean set in and it turned into a hearty and well-deserved sob.

There’s hardly a way to be disappointed in the fact that we will see Ewan and Hayden not only together again, but “getting into it” as well, but we do have to wonder what this means for the moment where Obi-Wan and Vader face each other again on the Death Star. The moment is not only pivotal to Episode IV, but I would argue, the entire saga. And it’s made even more impactful by the fact that the two men have not physically confronted each other since their fateful battle on Mustafar.

What we do know, and that which should not change, is that Vader never knew where Obi-Wan was hiding nor that he had Luke, his son, with him. That tells me two things: whatever kind of “rematch” happens here does not endanger Luke’s safety in the long run nor is it probably something that would occur more than once. I think what we’re going to see happen is isolated and “unexpected,” occurring only once ten years into Obi-Wan’s exile.

You: But, All Things Kenobi, if they could never physically meet on Tatooine or elsewhere, then what does this all mean??

Us: Do we look like Deborah Chow or Ewan McGregor? Do we have all the answers for you? NO! But can we try to help ease your mind until the show airs and I’m proven all sorts of wrong?? YES! SO PUT ON THAT TINFOIL HAT AND LET’S DO THIS!!

“I sense something. A presence I’ve not felt since…”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

“Obi-Wan once thought as you do.”

STAR WARS EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE JEDI C

Instantly our minds turned to these two particular comments from Vader in Episodes IV and VI. They’ve always stood out as peculiar, demanding explanation, but even more so now. The first is a vague, open-ended statement that leaves us to assume they hadn’t met again since they parted on the slopes of Mustafar. The second is a seemingly wistful reminiscence of a memory Vader has of his old master.

Luke had just finished making a heartfelt plea for Anakin to remember his “true self” then says, “come with me.” Where did Obi-Wan make the same appeal to only be shunned by Vader as well? Is it possible the series will show us this after all these years and possibly solve the riddle of both enigmatic statements at once? Is it possible that any such conversation might quickly devolve into another lightsaber-fueled clash??

“Count Dooku was Yoda’s apprentice.”

“And Count Dooku has fallen to the dark side.”

“All of us have apprenticed to Master Yoda.”

“He cannot be held accountable for Dooku’s descent.”

“But they are connected. Profoundly.”

THE CLONE WARS 6×11 “VOICES” C

A distinct bond exists between each Padawan and Master and unfortunately that bond does not disappear when one or the other becomes a Sith Lord. Despite the bond between Obi-Wan and Anakin being firmly closed at both ends, there’s no doubt that a presence remains. And even the most sturdy walls might crack from time to time.

Even after 19 years apart, Vader is quick to recognize when Obi-Wan is nearby and goes so far as to know his intent. “Escape is not his plan. I must face him alone.” And he’s right. (3) As for Obi-Wan, the Force has plagued him with dreams and visions, even showing him “a limbless wreck hanging in a bacta tank, necrotic skin pallid and scarred.” (2)

Could their strong connection be the vehicle that allows Obi-Wan and Anakin to confront each other once more? Within the Force they could not only converse, but we could also see them “take another swing” at each other without any physical consequences no matter who “wins.” The mental toll would also make for great drama for both men and bring a new perspective and emotional weight to several scenes in the Original Trilogy.

“If you loved me, Obi-Wan, you would have killed me.”

STAR WARS: DARTH VADER 24 BY KIERON GILLEN C

Finally, it’s quite possible that Obi-Wan might not physically be involved at all in their “rematch” and it might be entirely from Vader’s perspective. One theory could be as simple as the fact that Vader once had a training droid whose deadliest combat setting took the form of his former master. (Oh, Anakin.) (6) Another theory, and a much more likely one, could be that Vader has a Force vision or dream that allows him to recreate and relive various moments between himself and Obi-Wan, including, but not limited to, another lightsaber battle. This would be interesting to witness as every time it occurs, it means that Vader is wrestling with Anakin.

Although the Obi-Wan that continues to exist in Anakin’s psyche doesn’t seem too different from the real thing, just imagine Ewan McGregor getting to play Obi-Wan from Anakin’s point of view…I’ll just drop my mic there.

Star Wars: Darth Vader 24 by Kieron Gillen (2016) C

Star Wars: Darth Vader 5 by Charles Soule (2017) C

Citations:

(1) Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader by James Luceno L

(2) “Time of Death” – From A Certain Point of View by Cavan Scott C

(3) Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope C

(4) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2016 by Kieron Gillen C

(5) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2020 by Greg Pak C

(6) Star Wars: The Force Unleashed (2008) by Haden Blackman L

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Your Love Is Killing Me (Part 1)

Pairing : Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Meera Bose)                                            Summary : A canon divergent take on the emotions Ethan and Meera face on returning from Miami, and what happens when Meera faints in the hospital atrium.                                    Category : Angst                                                          Warnings : A few swearings, PCOD and cardiovascular disease that comes with it, stress and anxiety                                                        Word Count : 1724

A/N : So this is my first fic,🙈 so please ignore some of the rookie mistakes, also please send in criticisms, I would love to improve. Got tired with clone Ethan and PB writers and the book 1 replay got to me so I thought torturing myself through angst will be a good idea. Happy Reading!  ❤

Meera shifts in her bed. Rolling over to face away from the window. It was another sleepless night for her. Where usually she used to be famished after coming home from work and all she desired for was her head to touch the pillow the last 5 days was completely different. These 5 nights she spent staring into the ceiling as a train of thoughts ran through her mind. Dr. Ramsey's words kept on ringing in her head "I need to be able to push you to your limits. To help you become the doctor you want to be. The one I know you can be." Lost in her reminiscence of that magical moment in the balcony of the Miami hotel, Meera didn't seem to notice the sky changing its colours from the dark starry blue to the first hues of gold, orange and red, signifying the beginning of a new day. She turned over thinking what went wrong, a calculation she was doing for the zillionth time and each time she came to a fruitless answer. Meera was interrupted by the sound of her alarm, one which was useless as she wasn't able to close her eyes for a single minute. 

She sat up in bed rubbing her eyes and catching a glimpse of herself on the full sized mirror. She was in her comfiest sweatpants, her uncombed curls sprawled over her shoulders and face. She removed her hair from her face and found tired eyes, deep dark circles and chapped lips staring at her from the mirror. She closed her eyes, hugged her knees close and rested her forehead on her knees as she thought about her plan for the day. For the past five days she had planned her days carefully so as to not run into the grumpy attending at any cost. She was on high alert. Any sign of him nearby and she always made an one eighty degree rotation in order to escape him. She went to meet the patient X to take his regular vitals and monitor required medicines on hours she was cent percent sure Dr. Ramsey was busy. She replied with lies and smiles to Dr. Banerji's unending question about the conference, Miami, Ethan and the sudden change in her behavior. Although she sometimes felt he could see right through her. 

Meera stood up from the bed and went into the shower. As soon as the cold water hit her skin she remembered how Ethan had abandoned her in the hotel in Miami. How she had been sitting there on the bed dressed in luxurious blue with her heart and bed cold as tears swelled up in her eyes. She remembered the awkward flight from Miami to Boston and the bare three sentences of exchange between her and Ethan. How she thought that the flight washroom was her safe haven and how she wished to spend the entire flight there. All these thoughts were such an emotional burden on her and she finally gave in to the inevitable. She double downed with sobs as she cried in the shower keeping as quiet as it was humanly possible for her so that her roommates won't get to know. After a few minutes she was finally able to compose herself. She stepped out of the shower a towel wrapped around her as she rubbed her hair dry. Meera got into a fresh pair of scrubs combed and tied her hair into a tight high ponytail. As she applied a generous amount of foundation to hide her dark circles and chapstick to moisturize her lips her phone beeped with a notification from her period tracker which notified that her period was 3 days late. She didn't think much about that as she had been dealing with PCOD since she was sixteen. She had almost defeated the disease with changes in her lifestyle and a few medicines, but after all there is no permanent cure. She had learned to live with it over the years. 

Finally she looked at herself in the mirror. She was now looking like Dr. Meera Bose the confident number one intern at Edenbrook Hospital. She forced on a smile to face her roommates outside her bedroom door and the world in general. This is what Meera's life looked like for the past five days. She was tired of putting on a happy show for the outside world and hence once she was inside her room with no one except herself her thoughts collided against each other and finally left her crying. She was tired of going through the same crescendo of thoughts and emotions again and again but there was no other way out because the only possible solution to end her pain, in Dr. Ramsey's words was "unethical and complicated."    

It was noon when Meera was already done with 6 cases. She also made it a point to check up on Dr. Banerji first thing in the morning when she was completely certain Ethan was in a board meeting. She was once again walking the crowded but motivated halls of Edenbrook navigating her way to her next patient's room. 

Meera felt a sudden piercing pain in the middle of her chest which slowly travelled to her left arm. It started as a mild one but quickly accelerated. From the corner of her eye she saw Ethan rounding a corner and walking towards her. It had been six days since both of them were in the same corridor. Before she was ready to process anything further she broke out into a sweat and started feeling tremendous trouble in breathing properly. All she remembers next is darkness and the sound of her charts slipping away from her hand and hitting the floor. In the last moments before her unconsciousness hit she felt someone holding her close and tight, the chaos of the hospital becoming silent to her as she tried with all her might to figure out if she had the opportunity to be in Ethan's arms once again like she was in Miami but she failed.  

 Ethan was very annoyed when he was held all morning in a stupid board meeting and wasn't able to finish any of his work. Ethan often doesn't listen to half of the things the board members say. He utilises those hours to mentally untangle the complications of the diagnostic team patient, something which he felt was much much more important than listening to entitled doctors who aren't even good as they think themselves to be. But today it was different. He was unable to concentrate at all. His mind wandered back to the one curly haired brunette intern. These past six days Ethan had immersed himself in work. Between the interns, the diagnostic team and Naveen's mystery illness his mind was pretty busy. He took on more cases than usual, pulled all nighters at the hospital and the little time he was at home he did find some article he needed to finish writing on his laptop. This was the only way he could keep her out of his head. Atleast this is what he believed, because work, patient care and her career was the only thing standing between him and her.

He was quickly making his way towards the diagnostic team office once he was finally freed from the conference room. He turned a corner and started walking through the corridors, pinching the bridge of his nose. That's when he heard a thud and saw a chaos forming around a patient who had just fainted, up ahead in the corridor. He picked up his pace ready to yell at the intern who was responsible for this. When he was merely steps away, he stopped in his track, completely recognizing that it wasn't a patient but an intern. The intern that topped the charts in the diagnostic team competition, the intern he was so keen on avoiding, and for the first time in years his doctor senses didn't kick in. He was looking at the intern, not as Dr. Ethan Ramsey but as just Ethan.

She was nestled in the strong arms of the Averio paramedic she was friends with. Ethan snapped out as the chaos became louder, a stretcher was brought and Meera was lifted into it. Surrounded by her intern friends and Dr. Delarosa, she was being rolled towards the ER. The immediate thing Ethan did was follow her, but that's when his pager beeped. It was a code blue from Baz. Ethan stopped once again evaluating his next step. He knew the diagnostic team was already understaffed and needed him, on the other hand Meera who- who- who was exactly what to Ethan he didn't know. Ethan did the same mistake he had done in Miami, he put his work, before her inspite of what his heart wanted.  

It took Ethan twenty minutes to handle the situation of the Diagnostic Team patient. After which he was on his way to the ER, determined to check up on Meera. He felt, him running after just an intern would stir up the hospital gossip. But did he care for it? He didn't, until he heard a few nurses huddled together talking in loud whispers. "I think she is pregnant, Mary told me she was feeling nauseous the other day." one of them said. "Are you serious?? Do you think it was Dr. Ramsey ?" another one asked. "I don't know, they spent two whole days alone in Miami, who knows what they were upto." the first one replied. "You know, I think you are right. Dr. Olsen told me that she wasn't even half smart and intelligent as he was and yet she is leading the competition. It's very clear Ramsey favours her." a third joined in. "Whatever it is, I don't know what he sees in her. I could be standing her naked waiting for him to fuck me, but he wouldn't budge." with this the group of nurses started giggling and moved towards the atrium their back towards Ethan. After this encounter he couldn't risk being found close to her. It's her career that was at stake. Something that he priced over his own feelings for her. Dejected, he made his way back towards his office, locking the door behind him and immersing himself in paperwork.

Thank you so much if you have read till here, it means the world to me. I will put up the second part as soon as possible, till then sending love and hugs your way! 💖

Tagging : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd

+@choicesbookclub   

Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 💜

Part 2 is up now! Read it here

[a-sour-nectarine]

Summary:

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

Notes:

Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.

This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.

Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.

"Um, commander?"

"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.

"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."

"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."

"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."

Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."

A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"

Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....

"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.

Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?

"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."

Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."

Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.

The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."

Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...

"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we are– small? What caused it?"

Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.

Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over again— Oh. He was, wasn't he?

"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.

Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."

Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.

"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"

That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.

Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.

Until it started raining.

A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off again–-still attached to Obi-Wan–-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.

And then the walls came down.

Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.

"Uhh, Commander?"

"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.

In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."

"How can you possibly know how old you are?"

"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."

"How do you know you aren't– I dunno, nine?"

"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."

Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."

"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't change the situation."

"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."

Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.

The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.

And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."

"Hey, Ge–Obi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."

Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.

"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."

The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.

Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.

His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?

No. He woke up later in the medbay.

Like he always did.

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.

"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.

"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.

The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...

He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.

1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...

Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.

1.03, 1.02, 1.01...

Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.

0.01, 0.00.

He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.

~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"

He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.

"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."

A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."

The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."

The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.

But there was no way to get to Cody.

"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."

"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....

And pushed.

The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--

That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.

"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."

The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.

"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."

And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.

And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.

Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.

[inkweaver22-blr]

Hi there! So I’ve learned that I can’t focus on multiple big fics at the same time. That means I’ll be focusing entirely on Scattered Cicadas until it’s completed! Yay!

This chapter is an important one so pay attention! Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Eleven: Soul Searching

Tang gets into an argument with himself.

----------

He was, once again, in the uninteresting, featureless cave. The voices seemed to blend together as they called out in concern. His name had almost lost meaning at this point with how many times he had heard it. He didn’t even bother closing his eyes as the golden light enveloped him.

----------

Tang was tired.

How long had it been since this all started?

He had been experiencing these time jumps for what felt like an eternity. He’d lost count on the exact number of cycles he had lived through more than a few centuries ago.

It had been somewhere in the 800’s from what he could remember.

Tang was exhausted.

How old was he now?

He certainly didn’t feel the 41 that his body usually started out as each cycle. Each jump tended to last a year with a few outliers lasting two to four and the exceptionally rare occasions where it was hundreds of years before the start of the baseline events.

He was certainly much older than even Wukong at this point.

Tang was weary.

Did the new memories each cycle granted count towards his age?

They were vivid and detailed, so while he may not have personally experienced them, it felt like he had. The amount of times he had been the immortal Tripitaka instead of just his reincarnation would probably double his age from the memories alone.

If he factored them in, it was probably somewhere in the tens of thousands range.

Tang was fatigued.

In all these years, all the cycles and resets, how much headway had he made in figuring out what was happening?

None. Zilch. Nada.

He had scoured libraries, both mortal and celestial, learning many wonderful things. But he still was empty handed when it came to discovering what was causing his current existence.

He worried that the information he sought was entirely unique to his original timeline.

Tang was so tired.

He was close to giving up, resigning himself to this fate of infinite cycles. He could instead focus his energy fully into being there for his family.

There was a certain appeal to the idea, one that felt almost temptatious. All he needed to do was let go and give himself up in his entirety to their well-being.

Tang gave a sigh as he followed MK up the steps of Flower Fruit Mountain.

These melancholy thoughts were getting harder and harder to shake. Talking to Sandy helped somewhat, but his flame of hope was slowly dwindling.

He didn’t like to think of what he would become when it finally died.

Tang shook his head and did his best to refocus.

He was here for MK, not himself. His kid needed his help.

This cycle was particularly nasty on the young man’s mental health.

There had been cycles where he had been the actual reincarnation of Wukong and had been trained by a clone his past self had left behind, but this was worse.

This time, he was Wukong.

When the Monkey King had sealed away the Demon Bull King, he had sealed himself as well. His memories, his powers, his personality, all locked away and leaving behind a baby MK many years later.

MK hadn’t known until he had visited Flower Fruit Mountain for the first time looking for the Monkey King. Instead, he was greeted by the spirit of Tripitaka who had told him the truth and promptly left.

MK wasn’t handling it well. The pressure and responsibility had made it obvious that something was hurting him.

Tang and the others hadn’t found out exactly what was going on until they had been kidnapped by Macaque who threatened to kill them if “the real Wukong” refused to show himself. MK had saved them, but revealed himself in the process.

(The amount of times MK had become a monkey over the course of the cycles should have made Tang prepared, but it was downright shocking to see him look exactly like Wukong.)

They had managed to reassure him that they still considered him to be their MK, but it was obvious he had been agonizing over it for some time.

Which brought him back to the present.

It didn’t happen often where Tang and Tripitaka were entirely separate people with unique souls, but it did occasionally occur. Not often enough to be anything but an outlier though.

Tang was not pleased with how this version of his past life had treated his son. He planned on having words with him.

“This is it,” MK said, snapping Tang out of his thoughts. “This is where he appeared.”

MK had led him to a statue of the ancient monk. Tang couldn’t ever remember one being here in previous timelines.

“Why’d you want to come here again?”

“Well, I was hoping that by praying for guidance, we could perhaps get some first hand knowledge about the Monkey King to help you adjust to your powers.,” Tang explained as he began setting up a makeshift altar with the supplies he’d brought with him. The items he placed on the small fold-able table seemed normal enough, but were actually the components needed for a summoning ritual to call a spirit and commune with it.

Not that MK needed to know that.

“Do you really think this will work?”

“Only one way to find out.” Tang lit the incense he had placed and knelt before the statue and altar. MK quickly joined him on the ground as he began the incantation. Luckily, it sounded enough like a plea for help as opposed to a spell so he wasn’t questioned.

As he spoke, the statue began to glow a bright yellow and there was a slight tugging sensation in his chest. It was probably just the ritual creating an anchor between him and the spirit he was invoking.

Once he finished, the light separated from the statue, coalescing into the transparent form of Tripitaka. MK gaped while Tang gave a respectful bow. The monk seemed surprised for a moment before offering the pair a patient smile.

“Ah, my student,” the spirit said. “I had not expected to see you again so soon. How may I be of assistance?”

“Well, uh, Mr. Tripitaka sir,” MK said while rubbing the back of his head. “My friend Tang here thought it would be a good idea to get some, uh, stories about my past? He thinks it could help me get used to my powers if I heard about them first hand.”

“Indeed?” Tripitaka stared at Tang for a long moment before turning back to MK and smiling. “A more than reasonable request. I’d be happy to reminisce about our time together.”

The next hour was spent listening to Tripitaka as he told stories about the Monkey King. MK was completely enthralled by the tales, his tail swishing in excitement. Tang only half paid attention, making sure to have a polite smile on his face and keeping the incense lit to keep the spell going.

Tripitaka would eye him knowingly whenever he did so, but didn’t comment.

“Now, my dear student,” Tripitaka said after finishing one of the stories. “I have a request for you.”

“Sure,” MK hopped up and began bouncing eagerly. “What do you need?”

“Could you give your friend and I some privacy?” Tang sat up at that and MK blinked in surprise. “I have some things I wish to discuss with him that may potentially be… confidential.”

Tang scowled at the monk. That made it sound like he didn’t trust MK.

“Oh...” MK’s shoulders predictably drooped a bit. “I mean, if you really don’t want to tell me…”

“That’s not-”

“It’s okay MK,” Tang reassured, his interruption earning a brief frown from the monk. “He said it was only potentially confidential. I’m sure I’ll be able to let you know about anything important.”

“If you say so.” MK glanced suspiciously between the two serenely smiling figures, seeming to sense the tension, before he shrugged. “I guess I’ll go see if the stories helped with figuring out my powers.”

Once he was out of sight, the scholar and monk dropped their peaceful facades and glared hard at each other.

“Who are you and how were you able to summon me?” Tripitaka narrowed his eyes in accusation. “This ritual should not have been able to work on me.”

“Well it looks like it did anyway,” Tang said, glaring back. “I’m not sure I feel obligated to answer the questions of a master who mistreats their student.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You left MK alone.” Tang let all his anger show, making the monk step back in hesitation. “You showed up, dropped an emotionally devastating revelation, gave him an impossible responsibility, and then you left.”

“My purpose was to-”

“I don’t give a damn what your ‘purpose’ was supposed to be,” Tang snarled. “MK may not be Sun Wukong any more, but he’s still the Monkey King. He’s still your student.

“And when he needed you the most, you abandoned him.”

Tripitaka flinched as if he had been struck, his face pulled into a pained grimace.

Tang didn’t care. He had started the process of getting things off his chest and let the freeing momentum of it carry him.

“In all the times he’s returned to this mountain, not once did you reappear to offer reassurance or guidance.”

“I- I didn’t think-”

“Oh that much is obvious.” Tang had quite a lot of pent up frustrations. It felt good to have an outlet to release them on. “You left MK shattered and didn’t even think he would need help picking up the pieces!

“If you’re so wise, why didn’t you know how hard this would have been for him?

“If you’re so benevolent, why did you leave him to suffer in silence?

“If we’re so perceptive, why the hell did it take so long for us to notice his pain?”

Tripitaka straightened at that. His expression changed from shame, to confusion, and finally shocked understanding.

“If we’re so smart,” Tang was screaming now, tears flowing down his face as the years of bottled up emotions poured out, “then why can’t we figure out this damn curse we’re under?!

“Why?!” Tang pounded the ground with his fists as he sobbed. “Why?! Why? Why…”

Tripitaka knelt next to the scholar, waiting patiently as the sobs eventually subsided. He spoke only when Tang’s breathing had evened out.

“You’re my reincarnation, aren’t you?”

Tang jerked up in surprise at that. He had been under the assumption that this was one of those rare cycles where he had a separate soul from Tripitaka. If that wasn’t the case then…

“You aren’t actually Tripitaka.”

“No,” the monk confirmed with a sad smile. “I am merely a copy of his memories and essence given form and limited autonomy. I was sealed into this statue for the purpose of guiding my student when he eventually returned.”

Tripitaka gave a sigh and looked away in shame.

“As you’ve pointed out, I haven’t been doing a very good job at that.”

“I- Yeah, kind of.” Tang winced. “I didn’t mean to go off on you that much.”

“Don’t apologize,” the spirit said. “It was a truth I needed to hear. Not everyone would have been as honest or even brave enough to chastise someone as ‘wise’ as myself.” Tripitaka bowed his head in respect. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tripitaka straightened and gave Tang a smile before turning serious.

“Now, you being my reincarnation explains why you were able to summon me from the statue, as I am essentially a part of you.” Tang supposed that was the tugging sensation he had felt earlier, before returning his attention back to the monk.

Tripitaka stared directly into the scholar’s eyes, concern written in his own.

“But what was that part about being under a curse?”

Whoops.

He hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“I can’t tell you.” Tang sighed and shook his head, as that wasn’t entirely accurate. “I want to tell you. Part of the curse is that whenever I tell someone about it, they’ll forget the conversation even happened a few minutes later.”

“That sounds incredibly frustrating,” Tripitaka said, his voice full of understanding and compassion. “You must feel terribly lonely.”

“You have no idea,” Tang said with a groan, laying backwards onto the ground. Tripitaka hummed, seeming to be lost in thought.

“If the curse disallows anyone except for you to know about it,” he mused out loud, “and I am an aspect of your soul's past life… Or, essentially, if that means I am you...”

Tang shot up into a seated position as he caught on.

“Then you might be immune to the curse’s effects,” he finished excitedly.

“Precisely. It’s at least worth a try.” Tripitaka shifted into a more comfortable position. “So tell me about this curse.”

Tang took a breath. What did he have to lose at this point?

So he told him.

He told him about the cycles.

He told him about the many different changes to the timeline.

He told him about dying.

He told him about the love he felt for his family.

He told him how tired he was.

He told him about losing hope of ever finding a way home.

He told him everything, and Tripitaka patiently listened.

Tang sat catching his breath for a few moments after finishing, his throat raw from both the earlier outburst and from how long it took to relay his story.

He hadn’t felt this light in decades.

It would hurt if the monk would forget, but the catharsis had been worth it.

There was silence for a while as they waited to see what would happen.

“Now that,” Tripitaka said after several minutes, a grin slowly growing on his face, “is quite the curse.”

Tang could have melted in relief.

“Oh thank the Heavens,” he breathed, wiping away fresh tears.

It worked!

“I have never been too knowledgeable when it comes to spells or magical effects,” Tripitaka admitted, before smirking at his reincarnation. “I’m sure you probably knew that already though with the amount of times you’ve been me.”

“Remind me to tell you about the cycle where we were a sorcerer researching magic,” Tang said with a chuckle. It felt so good to be able to talk about this with someone. Even if it was a copy of his past life.

“Truly? Fascinating. We are getting off topic however.” Tripitaka became serious once again. “I may not know as much as you currently do, but I can certainly tell that this is no common affliction. It is a much too complicated and in depth effect to be a simple curse anyone could cast in passing.

“You aren’t physically moving between times, or else you would have stayed dead the first time you had passed or would have aged until death had you not.

“The most interesting part is that you always awaken as a version of yourself. This makes me believe that this curse isn’t just affecting your mind, but is tied directly to your soul.

“You have probably already come to the same conclusions.”

“Yes I have,” Tang said with a sigh. “But I’ve never been able to find anything on what could cause a soul to jump across timelines.”

“Hmmm…” Tripitaka gazed off into the distance in thought. “Perhaps you are focusing on the wrong thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have been researching the what of this curse, but not the why.” The monk turned his attention back to Tang, his eyes lit with the satisfaction of figuring something out. “There are a countless number of things that can affect a soul. Far too many to properly look into even without the complications of the random changes to the histories of the worlds you visit.

“What is most important to answer here is why your soul continues to move between time.

“If the point of the curse was to banish your soul to an alternate timeline, then why didn’t it just stop after the first jump? Why do you continue to travel between these realities at set intervals?

“By working backwards from why the curse works the way it does, the what will surely be revealed in time.”

“That’s… That’s brilliant!” Tang frowned, his excitement dowsed as he thought of a complication. “But how am I supposed to figure that out?”

“Have you tried examining your soul? Perhaps that could provide some answers.”

“Examine my soul?” Tang blinked in confusion. “How would I do that?”

“Do you not know how to manifest your soul outside your body,” Tripitaka asked, genuinely surprised.

“You can do that?”

“Yes. Or at least, this reality’s version of your past life could.” Tripitaka squinted in confusion for a moment. “You must get your tenses mixed up quite a bit from all this.”

“Remind me to tell you about the cycles that involved time travel.”

“Oh that sounds like a headache just waiting to happen.” The monk shook his head. “Anyway, your past self had to use this ability in order to create me. Since I have all his memories up to that point, I know how to do it as well. I should be able to guide you through the process.”

“What do I need to do?”

“Take my hands and begin meditating. I’ll be able to do most of the work from there.”

Tang took the monk’s hands and took a few steady breaths. Meditation came easy to the scholar after the many cycles of being the monk across from him.

He ignored the strange feeling of something moving through his arms and into his chest and focused. He soon fell into a relaxing trance.

“Oh my!” Tripitaka’s gasp broke Tang’s concentration and he opened his eyes.

Floating between him and Tripitaka was what he assumed was his soul.

It was a collection of bright golden-yellow threads wrapped loosely into the outline of a sphere with empty space making up the majority of its center. Knots of light were randomly placed across the strands and one had a thread pointing off away from the sphere, seeming to stretch infinitely into the distance.

“This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Tripitaka said, examining the soul closely.

“So I assume souls aren’t supposed to look like this?”

“Certainly not! Souls usually manifest as whole spheres of light.” The monk leaned in to look at the thread that was leading away from the rest of the soul. “It looks like yours has been unraveled like a ball of yarn.”

“Unraveled?” Tang swallowed nervously at that. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not as bad as it being shattered would have been,” Tripitaka said absently. “Your soul, stretched thin as it is, still seems to be completely intact.” The monk blinked as he sat back up. “I think I’ve figured out how this curse works.”

“Don’t you mean why?”

“Practically the same question at this point,” Tripitaka dismissed. “The point is your soul has been scattered across time and space, but not shattered. It is still a complete soul.

“The reason why you’ve been jumping across these timelines is that you are following the thread of your soul to recollect the scattered pieces, or knots to go back to the yarn comparison. Each time a new cycle begins, your soul merges with the missing piece found there.

“You are literally winding your soul back together.

“I’m not sure why the cycles last a year, but my best guess is that’s how long it takes for your soul to find the next piece.”

“So that means the farther away the cycle starts from my original timeline,” Tang contributed, “the longer it takes to find the next piece. That’s why the cycles that start hundreds of years before my base time last as long as they do.”

“A reasonable assumption.” Tripitaka focused, and Tang’s soul floated gently back into his chest. “You still seem to be missing a fair amount of your soul however. You’ve already been doing this for quite some time, so I can’t even imagine how much longer it would take to collect the remaining pieces.

“But you now know why this curse works the way it does. This effect is so specific, I can’t imagine many things could have caused it.

“Once you find out what could have done this, I have no doubt you’ll be able to reverse it and return home.”

Tang’s eyes began to water once again.

The thought of continuing to be trapped in these cycles until he collected the entirety of his soul was terrifying. He had already been at this for so long.

But now there was a new hope.

He had a new lead he could follow in his research. Something specific and tangible he could look for.

For the first time in countless years, Tang felt the weight of helplessness and despair lift away.

“Thank you.” Tang let his tears fall freely as he held tightly to Tripitaka’s hands. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, my child.” The monk squeezed Tang’s hands comfortingly. “If you ever feel the weight of your burden become too much to handle during this cycle, please come and speak to me. I’d be more than happy to offer a supportive ear.

“For now though, I do believe you are almost out of incense. It is time for me to say goodbye to you and my student who should really know better than to eavesdrop.”

There was a scrambling noise behind Tang and he turned to find MK nervously peeking out from behind a nearby boulder.

Tang laughed at the expression on MK’s face at being caught. He hadn’t felt this joyful in a long time.

“I’m sorry! I was just worried that you guys were going to fight and-!”

“You aren’t in trouble, my student,” Tripitaka said. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing to you. Your friend here was quite correct to be angry with how I’ve neglected to be there for you.

“I should have told you how to contact me during our first meeting so that you could have had someone to talk to about all of this. Instead I simply fulfilled my original duty and considered my work done.

“That was wrong of me to do. You are a wonderful person, Xiǎotiān, and it brings me great shame to have contributed in the pain you have felt.

“I am truly sorry, and hope that one day you can forgive me.”

Tang laughed once more at the stunned look MK wore.

“Say thank you, MK,” he wheezed out after a few moments when it looked like the kid was just going to stand there.

“T-thank you Mr. Tripitaka! You really didn’t have to apologize.”

“And yet I have,” Tripitaka said with a smile. His form began to fade as the last of the incense began to burn out. “My time is up for now. If you wish to speak to me again, simply channel your power into my statue and I will appear. Please do not hesitate if you ever need advice or words of comfort. I look forward to speaking to you both soon. Farewell.”

Tripitaka vanished as the incense was finally spent, leaving the area still and quiet.

Tang began to pick up the materials he had used for the summoning, MK soon joining him.

“So… You’re really Tripitaka’s reincarnation?” MK’s voice was curious as he helped clean up the altar.

“Yes I am,” Tang answered truthfully.

“Do you remember any of it?”

“Not at all.” Not in this cycle at least.

“Are you really under a curse no one can remember if you tell them?”

“I’m honestly surprised you remember even that much,” Tang said.

“Well there was a lot said in the middle and end that I can’t,” MK admitted, “which is really weird, but I do remember that part.”

“Interesting. Yes I am under a curse. I have been for a long time”

“That sucks.” MK frowned before brightening back up. “But hey! It sounded like Tripitaka remembered when you told him! It must feel good to finally be able to tell someone about it.”

Tang returned MK’s wide grin with his own.

He no longer felt tired.

“Yes. Yes it does.”

----------

Here we have the explanation for the fic’s title! I’ve been waiting to reveal this one for a while.

This cycle takes place in stagemanager’s story The Lost Prince. While the fic itself doesn’t say MK learned about the truth from Tripitaka, this fanart by @smallpwbbles shows that part actually happening.

The plot is picking up from here on! Hope you’re all hanging on tight! Until next time!

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 27- An Obitine Story

The first place Satine checked was her bedroom, it was empty save for a note. The Duchess fell to her knees and wailed. She pulled at her hair, threw chairs across the room, paced, Obi-Wan found her in her quarters an hour later.

“Satine!”

“Maul took them,” the Duchess’ throat was raw, “he took our four eldest.”

Obi-Wan froze for half a second.

“Mandalore was attacked, we should get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving until my people are safe,” Satine stood, “I have speeches to make.”

“Satine-”

“Come with me,” the Duchess ordered, “some things will leave with you.”

Servants moved out of her way when she passed, but Satine didn’t care how terrible she looked. Stalking over to the safe, Satine opened it and pulled out her children’s birth certificates, a bag of kyber crystals, and a tiara from King Zagreus the Second of Zygerria.

“These should be brought back to coruscant,” Satine swallowed, “guard them as you would guard Jynn and Lyra.”

The Jedi opened his mouth to speak, but Satine hushed him with a kiss.

“Jynn and Lyra may one day be all you have left.”

And with that, Satine left, walking briskly and then running once she rounded a corner. First she found Parna, who led her to where the servants were hiding. Satine freed them.

“Go home to your families,” she announced, “they will want to know you’re safe.”

Parna organized the guards to help escort people home, while Satine looked for the Prime Minister. Jaru Djarin was sitting up against the wall, locked in her office, with her eyes closed.

“Jaru,” Satine whispered, growing louder, “Jaru are you alive?”

“Satine,” the Prime Minister mumbled, “come.”

The door opened and the Duchess stepped inside, it smelled awful, like the kind of place rats lived.

“I need you to help me broadcast a speech.”

Jaru sighed, “Help me up.”

The Duchess and her Prime Minister limped through the empty castle, every move of theirs was as loud as thunder rumbling.

“What will we say?” Jaru’s garbled voice questioned.

Satine groaned, she hadn’t thought much about that.

“Mandalore has been used and deliberately attacked with no provocation,” the Duchess found herself saying into the camera, “we have no choice but to join with the Republic and defend ourselves. Please stay in your homes until we are able to address you again, thank you.”

After the camera cut off, Satine made her way to the landing, where a battalion of clones were stationed under Ahsoka, who felt her presence immediately.

“Momdalore!”

Satine collapsed into the Padawan’s arms.

“I heard,” Ahsoka whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you here?” Jaru asked a clone.

“Protection,” he answered.

Satine straightened, “The Prime Minister and I are grateful for your help, please make sure our curfew is enforced.”

“You heard the Duchess,” Ahsoka commanded, “go keep Mandalore’s citizens safe, I will stay with the Duchess and her Prime Minister.”

Ahsoka helped Satine and Jaru to a conference room and then retrieved the Duchess’ comm device.

“Call Countess Wren,” Satine sighed, “we should start with her.”

Ursa was stone faced until she was informed that Tristan had been taken, then, she broke down into tears.

“We’ll keep our district safe, Satine,” Alrich Wren promised, “just make sure he’s alright.”

“I will.” the Duchess promised.

Then the Counts and Countesses of Mandalore were called, all of whom had heard the news and prepared for the defensive.

“Satine?”

Bo-Katan, who stood in the doorway, grimaced when the Duchess looked up. Ventress behind her made a disgusted sound.

“They were taken by your replacement,” Satine growled, “you should help get them back.”

“Who?” Jaru asked.

A beat of silence followed.

“Korkie and his friends.” Bo answered.

The Prime Minister put her face in her hands, “Dear God.” 

“The pirates and bounty hunters need to be paid.” Ventress added.

Satine stood, “Sloppy business not paying them in advance.”

Bo-Katan’s eyes narrowed.

“We don’t have any money in the budget for this.” Jaru mumbled.

“Palace defense?” Ventress suggested.

The Prime Minister shook her head.

“I’ll pay them,” the Duchess decided, “out of pocket. I need to call the bank.”

The bank began converting the required amount of credits into cash, and after a quick signature, Bo-Katan and Ventress took over the distribution.

“Your Grace?”

“She was taken,” Satine frowned, without looking up, “Mara and the others were taken. I’m sorry, Boba.”

“Well,” the bounty hunter’s voice changed, “what’s being done to bring her back?”

Satine swallowed, “I’ll ask the Jedi Council for help, now that we’ve officially joined their side it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I want to help.”

“I want everyone to help.” Satine countered.

Boba Fett knelt down.

“Your Grace,” he whispered, “we’ll get your children back.”

“Of course we will,” Satine agreed, “help me stand, Boba.”

He did and the Duchess sent him to find Khaami and Parna.

“Hello, Duchess.”

“Master Yoda,” Satine sobbed, “Darth Maul has taken my children.”

“Hm,” the Jedi stroked his beard, “bad this is.”

“Please help me get them back.” Satine begged.

“Do you know where he’s taken them?” Master Windu asked.

“No, he just said in his note that this was retribution.”

“He left a note?” Master Mundi inquired.

Satine nodded.

“Why didn’t you leave with the Jedi transport?” Master Windu questioned.

“I can’t leave my people.” Satine responded.

Master Yoda thought.

“Obi-Wan has our most important possessions,” Satine offered, “and the kyber crystals from Concordia.”

“Study those, we shall,” Master Yoda stated, “but meditate on this problem, I must.”

“Master Yoda?”

The Jedi looked to the Duchess.

Satine’s voice broke, “My children are all I have.”

Master Yoda nodded and the comm line went quiet.

“Satine?”

The Duchess turned her head as Parna entered.

“Let’s get you ready to face the public.”

Parna was gentle and kind, helping her lady shower and dress. Then she brushed her hair and braided it.

“Your locks are growing out again.” Parna observed.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”

Parna tilted Satine’s head upward.

“I know it’s hard without the children, but the Jedi will help.”

“If Master Yoda consents to.” the Duchess countered.

“He has a soft spot for you, I’m sure.”

Ahsoka poked her head in.

“Momdalore,” Ahsoka began, “there are cameras here to see you.”

“It figures,” Satine mumbled, “they need to know.”

“There,” Parna announced, “finished.”

Satine looked at the braid in her hair, it came down to her shoulders. Her face was pallard and her eyes gaunt.

“Momdalore?”

“Escort me.”

The walls were lined with servants all whispering, none of them stopped when Satine passed, and that was what worried the Duchess most. At least some of them had the sense to curtsey.

“Her Grace, the Duchess of Mandalore.”

Satine stepped out onto the foyer and took a seat at the place that had been set up for her. Ahoska stood at her side.

It took a second for Satine to remember why she was there, “Questions?”

One brave reporter stood.

“We know the Count betrayed us and we have allied with the Republic, but what happened in the chaos of the palace last night, and what happened to the weather monitor?”

Satine almost spilled all her secrets at that moment, but fortunately Ahsoka spoke.

“Count Dooku tried to frame the Duchess and kill her, the audio recordings have been released.”

In the stunned silence, Satine cleared her throat.

“My nephew and his friends, including Tristan Wren, were taken as prisoners by the count’s apprentice,” she swallowed, “we have asked for assistance from the Jedi.”

The room burst into noise but Satine couldn’t hear anything.

“Let’s get you out.” Ahsoka whispered.

Parna helped Satine stand while Ahoska quieted the room for a couple minutes more.

“You need sleep,” Parna whispered, “rest.”

Up in her room, Padme commed Satine.

“We saw your broadcast,” she smiled sadly, “Master Yoda has agreed to send a rescue party.”

Satine burst into tears.

“Jynn and Lyra want to see you.”

Wiping her eyes, Satine saw her daughters in Padme’s arms, asleep.

Satine swallowed, “They’ve gotten so big.” 

“Five months.” Padme commented.

“Five whole months.” the Duchess nodded.

Lyra sighed, Jynn gurgled.

“Your Lady Mother misses you.” Satine whispered.

“They miss their mother too,” Obi-Wan frowned, coming into view, “some days they won’t sleep at all.”

“Who is in the rescue party?” Satine found the courage to ask.

“Multiple of Tyra’s Padawan friends,” Obi-Wan answered, “Quinlan, Master Mundi, and Anakin.”

“Not you?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Maul hates me, if I go, it would give him an excuse to kill the children in front of me.”

Satine gave a shaky breath.

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Obi-Wan braced a smile, “we’ll get them.”

Satine nodded, hoping with her whole heart that was true.

“You just rest,” Padme commented, after a silence, “you look like you need it.”

“I do.” Satine agreed.

The Duchess slept till evening when the comm call finished. By the time Parna woke her, she was informed that the heads of the eight clans were all here requesting a meeting.

“And Khaami is going to stay with her family,” Parna added.

“Good,” Satine sat up, “help me with my hair.”

In front of the throne sat a circle of chairs. Count Awuad, Countess Bralor, Countess Eldar, Count Mudhorn, Count Rook, and Countess Saxon were all present. Count Vizsla’s father, Tarrei, had joined Death Watch a month ago, Satine had almost forgotten. What Satine was not expecting to see was Alrich Wren leading his clan.

“My wife is unwell with the news of our son,” he explained at Satine’s question, “she’s miserable.”

“This is a terrible crime,” Count Mudhorn growled, “you would think Tarrei-”

“Death Watch assisted us last night.” Satine frowned, unable to hear anything negative about Bo-Katan.

“Yes,” Countess Bralor nodded, “because they wanted the Count, when the Jedi took him they were upset they didn’t get shots at him.”

“However, Asajj Ventress spat in his face.” Countess Saxon remarked.

“The Count, Dooku, I mean,” Satine began, “said he had friends in Death Watch, my guess is it would be Vizsla.”

“That would make sense,” Count Awuad agreed, “my spies just told me that your sister might face mutiny.”

Satine sighed, “That would be unfortunate.”

“It would, but there is more news,” Count Awuad straightened, “the Vizslas now believe that the children taken belong to you.”

The Duchess went stoic as stone.

“A dangerous rhetoric if true,” Countess Eldar prodded.

“But there is no need to worry about that then,” Satine forced a smile, “I have no children.”

“No,” Count Rook agreed, “but he did take Mandalore’s heir.”

Satine’s comm rang, it was the Jedi Council.

“We have decided upon our rescue party.” Master Windu announced to the room, “three Jedi Masters, will accompany five padawans to save the children.”

“That seems like a large group.” Countess Eldar observed.

“It is needed,” Master Mundi responded, “I will be leading the effort, which will take place on Mustafar.”

Satine grew cold.

“Mustafar?” Alrich Wren asked.

“Yes,” Master Secura nodded, “that is where the children have been taken.”

The room silenced, a fire planet known for cruelty.

“Is the Count proving useful?” Countess Saxon asked.

“He is.” Master Windu did not elaborate.

“Padawan Tyra, the one you sent here for protection who has now been captured,” Satine began, “informed me that Count Dooku’s Master has a son. His name is Je’er, and his mother is Oana Shields of Harran, from Naboo.”

“Interesting this is,” Master Yoda spoke, “good spy, Padawan Tyra is.”

That brought Satine some comfort at least, knowing that the Jedi had faith in her daughter's skills.

“The rescue party will leave tomorrow,” Master Secura offered, “you may rest easy on that.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess swallowed, “Mandalore looks forward to helping you more in the future.”

“Now,” Count Awad sighed, “for our Death Watch problem.”

It was decided that if Sabine Wren had any connections left to Death Watch, she should use them. Ursa loathed to let another child leave her, and therefore made her husband go with their daughter.

Satine spent the next few days organizing an optional armed force regiment, with incentives to join, of course. She also met with food experts to talk about rationing and spoke with the Head of Mandalorian Trade. 

The Duchess was in a meeting with her seamstresses about reducing fabric consumption when Parna burst in.

“Satine!”

The Duchess stood, sensing important news.

“Padawan Tyra is in the med bay.”

Satine ran to the make-shift hospital in the palace, she was glad to see both Hera and Doctor Quial present, but gasped when she saw their patient. 

“Your Grace,” Khaami whispered, appearing at her side, “please sit down.”

Shaking violently, Satine fell into a chair and began to sob.

“Your Highness?”

Satine swallowed and looked at the boy standing in front of her, “You must be Je’er.”

He nodded and knelt before Satine.

“Your Grace, I’m sorry I couldn't free the rest of your children,” he began, his voice low, “but they are all kept separate, and I couldn't let harm come to Tyra.”

Satine glanced over at her daughter, “What happened?” 

“My father electrocuted her,” Je’er did not lower his eyes, “she has second degree burns, but she will live.”

Satine fell forward and hugged the boy.

“Thank you, Je’er, thank you so very much.”

Je’er breathed a sigh of relief.

“If it’s alright to ask, will you help me get to Coruscant, I need to testify in front of the Jedi Council?”

“Of course,” Satine stood, “do you need food, water?”

Je’er winced, “Sleep, first.”

“Khaami,” the Duchess turned, “give this young man a nice room.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Satine then stepped into a quiet conference room and called her favorite Jedi.

“Obi?”

“Satine, I-”

“I have the Sith Lord’s son, he rescued Tyra,” Satine blurbed, “he wants to testify in front of the Council.”

“Good, this is,” Master Yoda spoke, “collect him tonight, Master Kenobi will.”

Satine blushed, realizing that Obi-Wan was likely in a meeting, “Thank you, Master Jedi.”

Once she hung up, the Duchess came back to her seamstresses, whom Parna was entertaining.

“Good news, Your Grace?” Waldie asked.

Satine finally allowed herself to smile, “Wonderful news.”

“That’s needed in these times.” a seamstress ventured.

“I agree,” the Duchess nodded, “Parna, I think we can repurpose some of my old gowns.”

The Lady nodded, “Should I bring some of the older ones down?”

“Please.”

Khaami came in as Parna left.

“A word, Satine?”

They made their way halfway towards the landing pad before Khaami spoke.

“I posted Gorg outside his room.”

“Protection?”

“Or in case of aggression.” Khaami answered.

“My Ben is coming to collect him,” Satine bounced on her heels, “he’ll be here tonight.”

Khaami grinned, eyeing her lady evilly, “You’re so giddy around him, you always have been.

The Duchess blushed, “Sometimes I still feel like we’re seventeen.”

Khaami snorted, “Yes, with six children.”

Satine sighed, “If Master Qui-Gon would’ve known we would have six children, he would’ve made our lives hell.”

“In a loving way, I’m sure.”

“Most definitely.” the Duchess agreed.

When Obi-Wan finally arrived, Satine was with Tyra in the med bay. She had woken up and was talking, but she had painful-looking white bulbs all over her arms and legs.

“At least I still have my hair.” Tyra joked with a wince.

“I’m just glad you’re safe, baby girl.” Satine smiled, “you know, it was a wonderful surprise when you were born.”

Tyra’s eyes watered, “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Satine placed her hand in Tyra’s, “I joked that I made such a mess I would need two towels.”

“But you really did need two.”

“What a lovely story.”

Satine turned and threw herself into Ben’s arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Darling.”

The Duchess kissed her Jedi until Tyra groaned.

“Uh, Dad, Lady Mother, I’m right here?”

Obi-Wan came to inspect his daughter, frowning at her injuries.

“Be nice to Je’er, Daddy,” Tyra warned, “he’s my boyfriend.”

Ben blanched, “A Sith-spawn?”

“Obi, he saved her life.”

The Jedi sighed, “Alright, Tyra, for you.”

Satine led Obi-Wan to where Je’er was sleeping. The poor child was thrashing in his sleep.

“Je’er!”

Obi-Wan gently shook the boy awake.

“You’re Master Kenobi.”

“I am.”

Je’er swallowed, “My father’s name is Sheev Palpatine.”

The room grew heavy with silence, and boils appeared on Je’er’s skin.

“Stay calm,” Obi-Wan ordered, “stay calm and they’ll go away.”

It worked.

Satine’s head spun, “Sheev? The Chancellor of the Galactic Senate, a Sith Lord?”

“We’ve been suspicious for a long time,” Obi-Wan explained, “but we’ll need this boy’s testimony, and his blood.”

“Take him then,” Satine urged, “quickly.”

Once Obi-Wan left, the Duchess stood staring at the sky for a minute longer. Her children were out there somewhere, three of them imprisoned. That Sith Lord was terrible, keeping them separate from one another. What did he want from them?

“Satine,” Khaami appeared, “I have the Prime Minister on the phone.”

Jaru Djarin suggested that Satine go to parliament and speak to the lords, because, as usual, they were very disgruntled and consumed by nonsense.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Satine assured, “will you come with me?”

“Unfortunately,” the Prime Minister sighed, “I’m giving a press conference just as parliament begins.”

Satine nodded, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

Satine was in a fitting for tomorrow’s event, an old court dress reminiscent of Queen Mara’s style, only in Kryze colors, when she asked Waldie what time it was.

“Six in the evening.”

Satine said nothing, but her stomach rumbled.

“Your Grace?”

The Duchess lowered her eyes, “I forgot to eat today.”

“Forgive me, Satine,” Waldie began, “put you’ve lost much weight since the Count’s first visit.”

“Stress.” the Duchess sighed.

Waldie swallowed, accepting the answer even though she didn’t want to.

“Should I have Parna bring food to your room?” a seamstress questioned.

Satine hesitated, “A light dinner please, it would be good for me.”

Khaami came to retrieve Satine when her fitting was over.

“I just talked to Gorg,” she whispered, “he’s filing for retirement.”

“Now,” Satine gasped, “but-”

“I know he knows,” Khaami’s voice was low and understanding, “but he has been unwell even though he’s physically healthy.”

“PTSD?” Satine asked.

“He’s been having nightmares in the barracks,” Khaami frowned, “he’s terribly embarrassed.” 

The Duchess balled her fists, “That God-awful Count and his apprentice!”

Khaami agreed, “I just wanted you to know.” 

“I’d love to honor him somehow, a pension perhaps,” Satine decided, “seeing as he doesn’t like big events.”

The lady smiled, “That’s a good idea.”

“Come with me,” Satine hooked her arm through Khaami’s, “I need someone to make sure I eat.”

Parna was laughing with Jaym outside Satine’s door when the Duchess and her lady arrived.

“What’s this?” Khaami grinned.

Parna snorted, “Jaym has a strange sense of humor.” 

“Does he?”

“Apparently,” Jaym shrugged, “most people don’t think I’m funny.”

Parna grinned, “You’re hilarious, Jaym.”

Satine turned to Khaami and raised her eyebrows.

“If you like, Your Grace,” she began, “I could make preparations for what we discussed and Parna could eat with you.”

“I would love that.” the Duchess replied.

Satine ate cheese and bread that night, the whole platter that was offered to her.

Parna patted the Duchess’ head, “Good girl, Satine.”

“Thank you.” Satine replied with a giggle.

“Should I help you dress for bed?”

“Please, Parna.”

As Satine lay in bed that night, she had no idea what was going on somewhere else in the galaxy, on Mustafar. Obi-Wan had commed her saying he and Je’er had made it, but when the Jedi Council come out of a meeting to find Mara Supreis and Tristan Wren in the med wing, along with three of the five padawans.

[humandisasterskywalker]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) -

All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Torture, Whump, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, No Beta We Die Like Clones Series:

Part 1 of Whumptober 2021

Summary:

Whumptober 2021 Day 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

“You’ll have to let go” / barbed wire / bound

Anakin was used to being captured. The way his master was determined to spring every trap had resulted in it being a common occurrence in their apprenticeship. 

He was confident Obi Wan would come to rescue him. After all, he always had. The Force Suppression cuffs however, they were new. 

If he was honest with himself, Anakin had got used to being captured by this point. Obi Wans mantra that the best way to negotiate a trap was to spring it had gotten the two of them into this kind of situation too many times before. It had happened too many times to be a novelty.

Obi Wan would be along to break him out soon. He always did. He wasn’t worried.

The Force Suppression cuffs clasped around his wrists though, he was not used to them.

He didn’t know if a new scientist had joined the separatist cause and developed the technology, or someone had defected from the order bringing it with them. It couldn’t be Dooku. If he had wanted to use them surely he would have introduced them when the war had first started. Anakin stared at the blank walls of the cell.

He hoped Obi Wan wouldn’t take too long to reach him. Experience had proved that lone captivity was nothing if not boring.

***

His captors seemed intent on ignoring him. The only real contact he was getting with any sentient being was with the guard that brought his rare meals. He never talked. Never responded to Anakins attempts to engage him, whether through his brand of humour or insults to prompt him into a fight. Nothing worked. He was craving some kind of human interaction. Anything that could add interest to his day.

Anakin had no windows in the cell. He couldn’t tell exactly how much time had past but counting meals made him think it had been at least a standard week. Maybe more. His arms were hurting from the cuffs, his shoulders stiff from holding them in the same position. What was keeping Obi Wan? He had never taken more than a few days to come after him before. 

Doubt crossed his mind. Maybe Obi Wan was only willing to come after him when he was his Padawan. Maybe now he had been Knighted he didn’t think it was worth it. He wasn’t his responsibility anymore…

No! Anakin thought. He would come. He was just spiralling from the lack of conversation. He never could deal well being left alone with his thoughts Obi Wan would come. 

He would. 

He had to.

A clanking sound echoed outside the room. Anakin scurried towards the hatch in the door. Maybe today would be the day the guard would crack. The Dura-steel slid back to reveal two mechanical arms.

Roger Roger!” The droid droned before withdrawing.

Anakins heart dropped. There went any hopes of a conversation.

***

If you asked Anakin the whole charade was his captor’s fault.

It was them who had decided to leave him alone for so long. He could only be trusted for a short amount of time before he came out with some kind of scheme.

The problem was that his well planned escape attempt had not worked. 

Not in the slightest. 

He hadn’t made even two corridors until he had run into a patrol. He had not realised how much he had come to rely on his connection to the force. It had covered up holes in his plans before.

Not that the quality of the plan was his fault. It was the separatists. The ones who had left him alone with nothing to do but think. And Obi Wan. For leaving him here.

The droids that dragged him back through the hallways of the ship didn’t seem interested in whose blame it was though. They didn’t seem interested in his comfort either. His legs had given out after the injuries he had suffered in his recapture had got the better of him. But the droids didn’t slow, continuing to drag him along the floor 

They weren’t heading back to his cell Anakin thought. These corridors were different. Darker. They were going deeper into the ship. Where could they be taking him? Maybe at last he would be able to work out exactly why he was being held here. At least that would mean he got some answers.

The door slid open before him with a mechanical beep revealing a bed surrounded by mechanical equipment.

The whole room had a disconcerting hum. As if it was alive with electricity. He was sure if he could feel the force it would have felt dark.

He subconscious reached for his bond, feeling a deep pang of loneliness when he found nothing in its place.

He was wrestled into the bed and strapped down

This was not going to be good.

*** 

Electric shocks jolted into his body. 

“Tell us,” the masked man growled. “The plans for the defence of Christophsis !”

The jolts stopped and Anakin felt his body sag.

He hurt. All over. He desperately tried to conceal it. He ran over the Jedi code in his head. He couldn’t let his emotions show. 

He was serene.

 He was peaceful. 

He felt no pain.

Except he did. He really, really did.

He kept his mouth shut. He was not going to risk his troopers lives by revealing anything. And Obi Wan. His master was due on Christophsis. He wouldn’t condemn him by telling them anything. Even though he hadn’t come for him.

He wasn’t coming Anakin realised. He was going to be left here alone. He’d probably die here.

“Very well,” The man said. His mouth contorted into a smile through the mask. “We will have to do this the hard way.”

He jolted the switch down and Anakins body ignited. 

He couldn’t see. 

He couldn’t hear. 

He couldn’t feel anything apart from the pain coursing through him. 

His mouth was open but he couldn’t even hear himself scream. 

The world was white. The world was pain. 

Let me die he begged to himself just let me die rather than live through this. 

The electricity shut off and the world slowly returned to him. 

The man was hunched over him now. His face was barely above his.

“Christophsis Jedi. Tell us about Christophsis and this will all be over.”

I don’t know!” Anakin sobbed. “I don’t know anything about Christophsis. I didn’t even know you were interested in it .”

The man’s smile seemed to get even crueller. 

“I don’t believe you Jedi. See we have sources that suggest you are one of the key Generals for the Christosphis campaign. I guess I must try harder to break you.”

Sources Anakin thought distantly was their a spy in the order. But before he had the chance to swell on it further his world became pain again.

Why didn’t you come? He thought desperately before he lost his grasp on consciousness. Obi Wan, why did you chose to leave me here?

***

Anakin didn’t look up when the door opened. The door opening only resulted in pain now. Maybe if he pretended to not look the door wouldn’t have opened.

That his torture wasn’t about to resume.

Not that he wasn’t in pain now. Ever since his escape attempt, he had been restrained even within the room, his hands cuffed on the wall above his head. 

His arms hurt. The only break they ever got was when he was taken away to that chamber, if you could even call that rest. He was so tired. His hopes of rescue had almost completely gone.

He still had faith in his Master. He had to. It was the only thing he had left. He just wanted it all to be over.

He could see an electric blue light ignite behind his eyelids. 

He knew that light.

He was sure.

His eyes flew open. 

Obi Wan was standing in the doorway.

He felt relief course through him. He didn’t know how it would play out. He didn’t know how they’d get out. But his Master was here now. That meant everything would be fine.

Obi Wan moved forward quickly, lightsaber swinging straight through the cuffs. Anakin felt his weight give way, the pressure finally released from his arms. He fell to the floor. Or he would have done it if he wasn’t caught. Obi Wan lowered him gently, hand caressing his face.

“Dear One, what did they do to you?”

Anakin opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the rush as the force returned to him.

He could feel the hum again, the way the world seemed to speak to him. He reached for the bond, clumsy and desperate but he grasped hold of it as soon as he found it. 

He felt Obi Wans worry.

He felt the sense of hopelessness Obi Wan had suffered.

He felt the determination Obi Wan had felt.

“You looked for me.” Anakin croaked. “You didn’t stop looking for me.”

Obi Wan looked devastated. “Of course not Padawan. I would never stop looking for you.”

 He glared at the cuffs. “Those, abominations meant it took far longer, but I would never…” Obi Wan stared into Anakin’s eyes “never leave you behind Padawan.”

“Am not a Padawan.” Anakin tried to joke.

Obi Wan didn’t crack a smile. “You will always be my Padawan dear one. I will always care for you.”

Anakin smiled, feeling himself being lifted into Obi Wans arms. 

“Knew you’d come for me.” He murmured. “They told me you wouldn’t but knew they would.”

“What did they do?” Obi Wans voice was flat. Carefully controlled.

“Electricity…” Anakin said. He was fighting off the darkness again. He desperately fought himself, trying to keep awake. “They wanted to know about Christophsis. Know about you. Couldn’t let them know that Master.”

Obi Wans expression was dark. “They won’t get you again Padawan. I swear.” 

Anakin felt a pulse of reassurance as he fell back into unconsciousness. 

He was safe. 

Obi Wan would protect him. 

He was safe.

[colehasapen]

(CHAPTER 1) there's a river full of memory STAR WARS

Comfortember no.19 - Memory Lane

Comfortember no.21 - Hugs

There’s a cadet-sized redhead standing where General Kenobi had been only moments before.

Wooley knows he’s not the only one staring in mute shock at the magically-appearing Little, but his ARC-trained mind is already churning, categorizing everything he can about the tiny Human. He’s lanky in the way that betrays a coming growth spurt that he hadn’t quite reached, and skinny enough that high cheekbones are poking through dirty, freckled cheeks that should still be round from youth. He’s missing shoes, and the way he holds himself points towards injuries hidden by his ragged, tattered robes and torn leggings that are caked in more dirt, and stains that look suspiciously like blood. Small hands are wrapped around the very Force relic General Kenobi had been studying only seconds ago, before a bright light blinded them all and replaced their Jedi with a child.

Logically, all the signs point to the Little being General Kenobi. The red hair, the pale skin, and the blue-green-gray eyes are all the same - but Wooley can’t bring himself to truly acknowledge it, because there’s thick shackles around tiny wrists and a heavy collar weighing down a thin neck. Acknowledging the kid as General Kenobi means that the 212th’s Jedi had been this child, that he hadn’t had the happy childhood they’d all imagined the man having. They’d all built this image of their General in their heads, and what they see in front of them crushes all of them.

“... General?” Commander Cody’s voice is more shaken than Wooley had ever heard before, his expression openly shocked and alarmed, and Wooley doesn’t blame him. He may not be privy to most of the details behind his brother’s relationship with the Jedi, but he knows enough. “Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

The kid’s frightened, darting eyes sharpen, shooting towards the Commander at the name, and that in itself is proof enough that it’s damning, even if the possible cadet-Kenobi doesn’t verbally respond.

The little Jedi is afraid of them.

Commander Cody steps forward, almost hesitant, and the kid stiffens, looking ready to flee but he’s also rooted in place. It’s a trained response. It reminds Wooley too much of Kamino, where fear means that they can’t step out of line. Fear keeps them obedient. It’s trained into them from a young age, but General Kenobi - Wooley had seen the shiniest Jedi in the Temple in passing, they were all so happy and free and loved . He’d never imagined General Kenobi as anything but.

The Little in the karking slave collar says otherwise, and Wooley kind of wants to shake the next High General he sees and demand to know what happened to their General when the 212th wasn’t there to watch his back.

From the tense line of Commander Cody’s shoulders and the shaking of his clenched fists his vod is probably thinking the same thing. “You’re Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

Maybe-Little Kenobi hesitates, eyes darting around the number of large armoured troopers around him, before ducking his head submissively, and it makes Wooley feel sick. “Yes sir.”

The imaginary blade hovering over their necks drops. It’s official. The bruised, beaten Little with the too-shaggy hair is - was? - their General. The tension skyrockets, and Little Kenobi flinches, hunching inwards to make himself look even smaller, as if they were a threat to him. Across the room, Pace makes a strangled sound, taking an aborted step forward. Seeing the General in such a state is upsetting all of them, but Pace is their CMO, is General Kenobi’s CMO, and he’d want to help - but Little Kenobi shies away even further, breaths coming out in uneven little pants.

Panicking.

He’s scared. Jedi can sense emotions, Wooley remembers General Kenobi saying, and he’s surrounded by tense, aggressive adults who he doesn’t know. The last place he remembers is probably wherever he had been held, by demogolke who had slapped a collar around his neck.

Taking a deep breath, Wooley carefully pushes his negative emotions into a locked box, letting himself fall into mission mode. A few carefully relaxed muscles makes him less imposing, and a couple battle signs has even Commander Cody backing down from the kid and letting Wooley take point on this.

Little Kenobi is already starting to relax, so Wooley makes sure that his posture is gentle as he approaches, and the small redhead watches him like a shriek hawk. He keeps his hands where the kid-that-was-his-General can see them, and keeps inching forward until thin shoulders start to rise defensively again. He stops.

Slowly, carefully, Wooley lowers himself to his knees, placing his bucket in front of him, and he smooths out his kama, instinctively tracing the stylized sunbursts he had painted on the edges. “Hey there, Obi-Wan.” The name feels odd rolling off his tongue, but the sound of it makes the little one relax slightly. “I’m Wooley, you’re on board the Negotiator - it’s a Venator-class Star Destroyer belonging to the Republic.” He relaxes more, and Wooley carefully makes sure he doesn’t react when the kid starts inching towards him. “How old are you, Obi-Wan?”

Little Kenobi blinks, licking his lips nervously, eyes darting around him, but it seems Wooley, at least, has won his fragile trust. “Twelve, sir.”

Twelve. Wooley doesn’t have to look to know that his brothers are flinching. Most of the command ranks are twelve, some of the few to have survived as long as they have, while Wooley himself is a few months off of ten but had been in battle for just about the same amount of time as the oldest surviving Vode. He had been sent out at 8, caught awkwardly between the generations of clones who aged twice as fast as natborns and those who ages even faster, engineered to quickly take the place of the numerous Vode who died as the War progressed. He’s from the last batches of 2X-clones - some of the few who weren’t immediately put through gene therapy to speed up his aging, and instead sent out to the frontlines without much hope for a life expectancy, but he’d proved everyone wrong - and it’s not fun, being among the youngest-looking clones in service while his younger brothers outpace him, and his older brothers look at him in pity or try to put themselves between him and the enemy, despite the fact that he’s made it to ARC Trooper.

To them, twelve is fully grown, but Kenobi is a natborn - twelve year olds are kids , and while there are young Padawan-Commanders serving in the War, they’re shielded from as much trauma as possible with the Senate shoving progressively younger weapons onto the battlefield while defending themselves by labeling those suffering in their War as ‘others’.

Wooley has to push those thoughts away when he feels his anger bubbling up again, taking a deep breath to center himself like General Kenobi had taught him. “What’s the last thing you remember, Obi-Wan?”

Blue eyes are sharp, intelligent and calculating, as they scan the conference room that currently held the highest ranking members of the 212th Attack Battalion, then the strange round artifact they had stolen out from under Dooku’s ugly nose. Hesitantly, the boy lowers himself to sit across from Wooley, placing the Force doohickey between his knees to grip the collar around his neck instead, expression intense and thoughtful. The metal makes a small flinch run through the Little’s thin body, and causes something haunted to enter his eyes. “I was on Bandomeer.” Little Kenobi murmurs quietly, and Wooley’s brows furrow. He’s never heard of the planet, but a glance at Commander Cody shows that the older clone has some idea about what it means. “Sir-” Wooley turns his eyes back to the kid, “-why am I here instead?” The little Jedi asks curiously, his confidence growing with every moment that passes without any hostility aimed towards him. Little Kenobi glances down at the artifact, chewing thoughtfully on his lip, the natural curiosity of a child starting to shine through his unease. “Does this have something to do with it? I wasn’t holding it before.”

“Smart.” Wooley says cheerfully, and Little Kenobi ducks his head, a red blush lighting up dirty cheeks. “Yeah - as of approximately ten minutes ago, a thirty-seven year old Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing in this room, studying that doohickey right there. So you can imagine that we’re all a little confused right now.”

Little Kenobi looks completely flabbergasted and even a little awed. “I’m in the future?” He actually looks a little relieved too, and like he was about to cry, Wooley notes with a little alarm. “I - I thought I was going to -” big blue eyes peer around him, misty with unshed tears, lips quivering. “I thought I was going to die down there.” Little Kenobi warbles tearfully.

This breaks whatever thin thread of control the clones in the room had over themselves, and it doesn’t surprise Wooley that it’s the Commander that moves first. His older brother sweeps past him, dropping to his knees next to the child-that-was-their-General with just enough force to make Wooley wince - Cody would be regretting that later when his bad leg started aching. Little Kenobi doesn’t flinch away from him when the Commander reaches for him this time. Instead, he leans into the touch that is offered, tears carving a path through the grime caked onto pale cheeks as Commander Cody gathers him into his arms.

Little Obi-Wan Kenobi looks completely lost, eyes wide and sightless over Cody’s broad shoulder, trapped in whatever memory is haunting him. Then he lets out a heart-wrenching sob, and the small Jedi crumbles into his Commander’s arms with the muffled wail of a hurt, scared child.

[seateajessi]

Chapter 1

Wc: 1.8k   

@chokemeanakin​ request, my very first fanfic hope you like it <3

There it was this familiar feeling of fear, anger, and frustration creeping into my mind consuming my very soul ​and leave my body frozen.

I failed.

I needed a moment to realize what just happened, a moment I missed to dodge the shot that split my lightsaber in half.

Not that It was of great use to me, now that I was lying on a destroyed federation tank, probably deadly injured and without any support that could turn things for the better.

The stars dancing over me confirmed my worries and slowly a jabbing pain kept me from breathing in more of the burnt air that wavered over the battlefield.

That was it.

That was the end.

The end of a traitor, of someone who left her troops in the middle of a crucial fight only to hunt down a phantom, a specter. There were clear orders to be followed, there was a code that showed a Jedi how to lead, how to live, and most importantly how to survive.

Especially the last part seemed more reasonable to me, as I was dying on that piece of metal junk.

My vision began to blur and the sounds of the battle surrounding me became numbed.

I desperately tried to reach my communicator and I believe more color left my face when I felt the warm blood on my finger.

Tears formed in my eyes as I started to realize what I had done, in what position I had brought not only my troops but the whole galaxy, the republic ... and General Skywalker.

I winced at the thought of Ani, we were friends since we first met as younglings at the temple.

The mission we were sent to was most likely one of the most significant, it held the potential to capture General Grievous and end that monster once and for all. After a defeat of General Grievous and his droids, the Jedi council and chancellor Palpatine were informed by republic supporters that Grievous fled to the Outer Rim.

Palpatine made it clear that two of the most powerful Jedi should execute this mission to ensure certain success. The council was as confused as I was when the chancellor recommended me for this mission, of course, I was a Jedi knight but I was neither a master nor the chosen one, on the contrary, I had never felt strongly connected to the force or was especially skilled with the lightsaber. If it wasn't for the severity of the situation and the lack of available Jedi, the council would have never even considered sending me on this mission.

I closed my eyes and gasped at the pain that slowly numbed my body and my consciousness.

In the Carlac system, we finally tracked a sign, in hindsight obviously way too easy and after we landed on Carlac it didn´t take long and an army had surrounded us. Any communication was blocked and Anakin and I were separated right at the beginning of the battle.

The snow-covered planet made it difficult to keep an overview, heavy blizzards made it nearly impossible to see more than two feet in front of you.

Tiny sobs escaped me when I thought of him being out there alone facing this gigantic army of battle droids. In the Jedi order was no personal attachment allowed and that was the hardest price to pay in order of being a Jedi. He had to be dead by now, yet I didn´t feel any change in the force.

The tears burned in my eyes, realizing that everyone could be dead by now and my weak connection to the force could easily hide it from me.

My thoughts became disorientated and the aching pain had now reached every limb and bone in my body.

My eyelids became heavier and it started to snow again, flakes nearly as big as my hand, they really looked beautiful combined with the fading sunlight.

Something felt so familiar with that picture and for a moment it soothed my pain sending me into something between sleep and unconsciousness.

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

The nightmare that haunted me was the same as I dreamt it almost every night for as long as I could remember.

Usually, I was wandering through a cave until I would spot daylight and hope to escape this hell only to stop before a dead end every single time. A horrifying scream fills the cave, echoes, and becomes louder and louder until I´d crouch on the ground. Desperation and fear would paralyze me until the cave would begin to crumble and collapse burying me.

This time was no different and with a loud gasp I opened my eyes, adjusting to the harsh mechanical lights that were directed on me.

I couldn´t make anything out in the glaring light, apart from the metallic room that surrounded me, and the fact that I was levitating in the middle of this room, held in some sort of slowly spinning electrical captivation.

It was a wonder that I survived the shooting before but there was no way I would live long enough to...my train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door.

Battle droids of course and behind them a horrendous creature, half a robot and half Kaleesh.

"General Grievous", I stated, trying to sound as unaffected as possible.

His pestering laugh filled the room as he eyed me carefully.

"I´m a Jedi", my voice sounded horrible, an embarrassing mixture between voice cracks and whispering. Why was I even talking to him, I silently cursed myself.

"Jedi scum for sure, but what´s your name little Jedi?"

"Emerald", I answered slowly starting to feel the pain coming back.

"Is this even a name?", the droid next to Grievous chattered, "Never is that a name.", he continued clearly sure of himself, "We found her on the top of a tank, and her lightsaber was broken. I have it right here. Look at it yourself." he proudly held my lightsaber in front of Grievous face.  

"What am I supposed to do with it you stupid droid?", the Kaleesh snarled. "You´re soon will look like that saber, Jedi scum. Droids, guard her." with that he stamped out, leaving me with that awful sound of "Rodger, Rodger" echoing through the room.

The thought of Anakin and the clones haunted me, there was no way I would give them up so easily.

This was my chance, a new sparkle of hope gave me life, the moment a somewhat brilliant idea came to my mind.

With my most suffering expression, which I didn't even need to fake that much I wailed "Oh, no. I´m gonna die, I can feel it. If I die now, Grievous can´t kill me. How are you gonna explain to him that you let me die when you were instructed to guard me." I sighed dramatically and slowly closed my eyes.

"Is she dead?", "Hey you, Emerald Jedi.", "I think she is dead", "We need to check, I was just promoted." the discussion continued until I roughly landed on the ground, hearing the two battle droids​ approaching to check on my health.

I quietly groaned at the aching pain that definitely originated from the left side of my body.

I felt the cold metal hand on my throat, clumsily checking if I was still alive. "I think she is...dead?!"

I calmed myself collecting everything that's left of my strength and grabbed the droid and ripped his head off. "Whaaat the", the other droid screamed in shock, still compensating why I was still breathing, which made it easier to grab his blaster and shoot it.

I gasped again, this time out of physical exertion, this little fight had brought me near unconsciousness again.

Struggling to set one foot before another I reached the door and opened it, trying to be as quiet as possible while sneaking out of the metallic hellhole.

There were only a few other droids, the base definitely didn´t seem heavily guarded, which was somehow strange.

"Grievous, you know that it is of utmost importance that the Jedi girl...", I froze and slowly approached the corner the voices were coming from. "Skywalker has to walk into our trap..." My heart made a little jump when I realized that Anakin probably wasn´t dead. "...Sidious ordered that she is only to be killed when Skywalker watches." I frowned and carefully retreated. The pain became more unbearable by the second and I still needed to find a way out of here.

Still, I couldn´t keep my mind from start rattling about what I just witnessed.

What in the force's name did they mean by setting a trap for Anakin. I wasn´t sure who the other one was, but I was definitely planning on figuring that out.

I needed to get to our ship and contact the fleet, call for help and inform the Jedi council about this.

I looked for something that would keep me alive and my luck had turned at least that's what I thought the moment I spotted a little something above me.

It seemed like there was some sort of container that had a medical sign-on. My shoulder made a terrible sound as I tried to reach for the switch to open it.

The pain that shot through my whole body caused me to abruptly slump down to the hard metal ground.

Before I could hit the ground hard, I was caught by a pair of strong arms that seemed familiar to me.

Could this be... "Ani?", I croaked and turned around, tears once again forming in my eyes as I saw his eyes full of concern and his hurt expression.

"You promised me you weren´t going to do anything reckless", he whispered and tried to sound taunting but his voice broke when he turned me a bit and saw my side.

I  tried to form a laugh that sounded more like Grievous coughing, due to the amount of blood that came with it.

"Don´t worry it´s gonna be fine. Help is on its way, we-we contacted the fleet.",

My hand clutched for his that tried desperately to soothe my pain somehow.

"Ani, please hold me", I whimpered holding on to him even stronger. I couldn't read the expression that crept on his face but it scared me.

"They are gonna pay for this, every single one of them." he hissed and my stomach turned.

"Just look at me, Ani, please. It´s not that bad.", I whispered caressing his cheek and tried to smile. His expression softens and he carefully picked me up. "You´re so cold, Ems." I huffed and grabbed his hand pressing it against me, placing a soft kiss on his palm. A sad smile graced his face while he covered me with his robe. "See, I´m here, don´t worry.", he placed in return a kiss on my head.

"Ani, I´m scared." I whispered and I don´t know what hurt more the stabbing pain in my side or how his eyes became watery.

I ran my hand softly over his chest and buried myself into his strong arms. I barely felt the pain nor the burning sensation that had caused his touch.

And once again I drifted into sleep, only this time I felt as safe and warm as I never had before.

[generallynerdy]

One life, I thought—a thousand deaths (Jon Antilles & Fay)

Summary: On Queyta, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the only one to escape Durge and Ventress. One of the four legendary Masters, Jon Antilles, emerges from a lava stream despite knowing he’s going to die. He’s so sure of it that he crawls his way to Fay’s side, wanting to spend his last moments with the woman who he considers his Master. But she has other plans. Plans to make certain that Jon Antilles lives past today.

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, On-Screen Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, there’s both sorry, Self-Sacrifice, The Curse of Immortality, holy shit i made myself sad dude Word Count: 2,191

Prompt: Angstpril Day 2 - Sole Survivor

Author’s Note: listen I know nobody knows about these characters that are in literally one comic but I have FEELINGS about them okay?? Jon is meant to be a badass mysterious enigma but he screams sad boi and Fay is like...the greatest cryptid Jedi ever, I love her. So, of course, I decided to make them and Knol and Nico suffer. (Also I know Obi-Wan survived the mission but the Sole Survivor still applies because Jon is the sole survivor of the four legendary Masters, just in case that wasn’t clear.) I just finished this today, so the editing is minimal.

Read on AO3

*

Using the Force as a shield is, in theory, one of the easier skills a Jedi utilizes. That is assuming, of course, that the Jedi in question is in good health, a decent mental state, and isn’t under a severe amount of stress. If said Jedi is, say, three feet into a pool of lava, already bearing grievous injuries and the weight of the deaths of two close companions, and feeling the fading life of another, the simple task, understandably, becomes something of a problem.

Jon has finally managed to pull the Force around him like a blanket. It protects him from the bubbling lake around him now, but the first few seconds he couldn’t pull it off were torture.

As it turns out, lava burns. It burns like shame, like failure, like the nightmares Jon used to have about his Master abandoning him on a planet in Hutt space for getting just a little too mouthy. And it hurts nearly as much.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He makes a rule of not cursing, but right now feels like an appropriate time to break it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He claws at the charred remains of his robes. Contrary to popular belief, lava doesn’t melt initially, as Jon now knows. Instead of melting, he burst into flames for the few seconds it took to pull himself together, though they felt like an eternity. Red, throbbing burns litter his entire body, his hair singed but miraculously intact thanks to his hood, which is entirely ashes now. The pain consumes his thoughts, making his shielding start to flicker in and out.

And then, through the debilitating agony, a touch of something familiar.

Jon’s eyes fly open. “Fay,” he whispers.

Her light is dimmer than it should be, not flickering in and out mischievously like it usually does. But still, she makes an effort to reach out, to check on him. It sends a sob up his throat.

“Hold on, Fay, hold on.”

Clenching his fists, he opens himself up to the Force. His actions are ones of faith, not of desperation, and he lets it flow through him as he takes a deep breath. The idea of using one of his Master’s abilities would normally make him nauseous, but the disgust doesn’t even cross his mind this time as he prepares to teleport. He thinks of that open, flat space of rock that Obi-Wan and Fay ran to, their enemies close behind. Focusing fiercely on that distant image, he pulls on the Force and folds the two points—

Jon collapses on solid ground with a heaving gasp.

Every inch of his body protests the change, especially his knees, which burn when they make contact with the ground, but somehow he manages to ignore his own complaints.

Fay isn’t far, or she shouldn’t be, at least. The distance between them seems gaping when he tries to move.

Still, her light is fading fast. And he wants to be by her side.

So, Jon Antilles crawls on hands and knees, dragging his body across sharp stones and past bubbling streams of lava. He aches with each movement and cries out when it becomes too much, but he persists regardless. Something in him knows it may be the last thing he ever does.

Finally, he sees her.

She’s sprawled out, her chest hardly moving as her breathing becomes shallow. Her near-golden hair is filthy with ash and her eyes are dim. She’s hardly herself, Jon thinks, and feels his stomach sink.

Hundreds of years the great Master Fay has lived and breathed. Hundreds of years and he’s going to watch her die today.

“Jon,” she calls out weakly.

He pulls himself to her side, grabbing her hand with his own shaky ones. “I’m here, Master.”

They only met when he was a teenager, but he feels as if he’s known her all his life. They’ve travelled the Outer Rim together, following the Force, for decades now and he’s never regretted a second of it. In all but title, Fay is his Master. She was always better than Dark Woman, even when the bar was six feet under. The only record with both their names will be at the Temple, where the dead are listed, a handful of mission reports with other Jedi, and the stories the younglings share of the 4 legendary, nomadic Masters.

“Knol and Nico,” Fay breathes out, “they’re one with the Force.”

Jon grimaces. “Yes. And the Force is with us.”

She laughs, breathy and half-choked. It’s an old lesson, familiar and grounding. “And so too are they,” she adds.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?”

“Gone, with the cure.” She smiles just a little. “The Republic fights another day.”

Suddenly grim, he squeezes her hand. “But not us.”

A pause.

“But not us.”

The silence overwhelms them. The wind whistles in the distance, carrying with it nothing but smoke and ashes. Queyta isn’t the best place to die, Jon thinks absently. He would rather it have been someplace with flowers.

“I wish it could’ve been Jedha.”

He almost jumps at her voice, but her words jarr a surprised laugh from his sore lungs. “Jedha? I thought you hated cold planets.”

“Oh, yes, but not that one. Force, I should have taken you. The Force there is so...so strong, so pure, you can feel the kyber from the surface,” she explains, staring straight up at him. If anyone else were to gaze so intensely at his scars, he’d be uncomfortable, but she’s safe. She’s family. “And the Guardians of the Whills are so kind. I met a young one of theirs some decades ago. You two would’ve gotten along.”

Jon laughs a little. “You’re always looking to find me friends, Fay.”

Her smile turns sad and she lifts a hand to his face, letting it rest on his cheek. “You’re so young,” she whispers. “Too young to be so lonely, Jon.”

He shuts his eyes, lets himself be comforted by her touch. When he opens them again, she still has that gut-wrenching look on her face. He places his hand on top of hers, unsurprised at how cold they are despite the blistering heat.

“I’m not lonely,” he promises.

Jon doesn’t say that it’s because of her, Knol, and Nico, but Fay picks up the thought anyway. Her eyes fill with tears.

“I have watched so many I love die.” Fay’s voice wavers as she says it. He realises that it’s the first time he’s ever heard it do that. To be honest, he’d thought it was impossible. “Taken by age, by Darkness, by foolishness. Never have I met a soul as good as yours, Jon. And never a Jedi so worthy of love.”

“Fay…”

She shakes her head. “Your Master did not deserve you. The galaxy did not deserve you.”

Pulling her hand away from him, Jon squeezes it. “You did,” he says firmly, though his voice cracks.

“I hope so,” she admits with a rueful laugh. “I hope so.”

He smiles weakly. “I wish you’d found me first. But I thin-I think the Force knew when I needed you to save me. Because you did save me, Master. I could never thank you enough.”

She takes his word silently, holding his hand even tighter. “You never needed to.”

“Thank you,” he says now, even though it’s useless.

Fay’s grey eyes meet his pale ones and suddenly, she’s distressed. “You’re so young,” she repeats.

But Jon can see that she means something else this time.

“Not too young to do my duty.”

“Too young to die doing it.”

Jon thinks of Tan Yuster, one of four Padawans to die on Geonosis. The Jedi have experienced great loss these past months since the beginning of the war and so many so much younger than Jon have died in battle, the clones included. Of course, to Fay, they all may as well be children.

“I will go proudly into the Force,” he promises her. At your side.

Fay’s expression twists. “No.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think we have a say in it.”

“The Force let me live this long,” she says suddenly, as if it’s a realisation, “longer than I should have. Obi-Wan is gone, I’ve done what good I can, except...you’re here. Why are we here?”

“To say goodbye,” Jon offers.

She shakes her head, then tries to sit up, struggling until her would-be Padawan helps pull her up. “I’m done with goodbyes.”

“What are you—?”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question. Fay presses their foreheads together and grabs his hands with a newfound energy that terrifies him. Chills go up his spine when her presence in the Force covers him like a blanket. Warmth climbs up his hands, then his arms, and with a glance down he finds that his skin is healing.

“Fay, no!” he cries, trying to shove her away.

She only tightens her grip. “Stay still, Jon.”

She sounds more like herself, certain and unwavering. Jon would be happy-crying if he weren’t horrified. He tries to drag himself out of her grip, but she’s impossibly strong. Her healing creeps up his entire body, soothing his burns, though scars remain behind.

“No, no, no—FAY! Fay, stop it!” His screams turn to sobs. “You’ll die, stop—!”

“I already am,” she says, just as certain in her abilities as her fate. “But you don’t have to.”

Trembling, his attempts are weaker now but still there. “Please, please,” he begs. “Not without you!”

Tears stream down her cheeks. She allows herself a moment of weakness; she opens her eyes and meets his tearful gaze, remembering the teenager she first met. He was so scared and so brave. And for a moment, she’d thought he must be a ghost. But no, he was just a boy. For the first time in a long time, she had let herself build a bridge between them, like Knol and Nico before him, even knowing she would have to watch him die one day.

Now, she thinks with fierce stubbornness, she won’t have to.

It feels like her life is leaving her for him, though she knows it’s just fading into the Force. It’s to it that she speaks, the cosmic energy she’s dedicated her long, long life to.

“If anyone is deserving of the time you’ve given me,” she gasps out, “it is Jon Antilles.”

She doesn’t see the horror in Jon’s face, but she can feel it in his quiet Force-presence, so subdued. He hides himself on purpose and it truly breaks her heart. His light is so strong. The galaxy is all the better for his existence.

“I don’t want this! Fay, I don’t—let me die, please—”

Fay only lifts her head and kisses his forehead, the sort of gentle gesture a mother might give her son. “One day,” she promises. It rings with truth, with the strength of the Force behind it. “But not today.”

Jon cries out and tries to rip himself away, but freezes when pure light washes over him. The warmth he’s always associated with Fay soaks into him, healing all his wounds in an instant and rejuvenating his fading energy. Stars burst before his eyes, like he’s seeing into the very universe beyond Queyta, beyond what he’s meant to see with his petty Human eyes. In another instant, it’s gone and Fay is slumping over.

She falls to the ground with a thump, a noise that jolts Jon back into focus.

“Master!” he sobs.

He pulls her up from the ground with the sickening realisation that she’s a complete deadweight. She’s limp in his arms, already paling. Desperate, Jon pushes her hair out of her face and finds...nothing. Her eyes are dull. With his fingers on her wrist, he can’t feel a pulse.

“Fay?”

The steady beat of her Force-presence is gone, a gaping hole in his universe. Their bond, one strong enough to resemble a training bond, is shattered, a physical pain that throbs in his skull.

Jon begins to hyperventilate, his sudden gasps for breath burning his now-perfect lungs.

“Come back,” he begs Fay’s corpse. “Fuck, please. Please, come back.”

He pulls her into his lap, clutching her robes like a child being left behind for the first time. It doesn’t hurt to move anymore and, thank the Force for it because his entire body shakes with the force of his cries.

Overwhelmed with grief he’s never experienced, Jon wails into Fay’s shoulder, rocking back and forth. The agonizing sound rings across the valley, a noise like torture.

It’s only now that he feels the frayed edges of his bonds with Knol and Nico.

He screams again, his vocal cords protesting it sharply.

The last time Jon was this alone, he was a child. And now, he’s right back where he was before he met his three closest companions. Except now, now, he knows what it means to love and to lose. It aches. It aches like nothing he’s ever felt.

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely. “I can’t—I need you. What do I do? What am I supposed to do?”

He never gets an answer.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, we’ve added to our friends to lovers rec list. You can find part one here and there will also be a part three (and possibly a part four!) up eventually, which will be linked here when it’s been posted. We hope you enjoy these fics! Happy reading.

1) Roses In The Rain | Mature | 5267 words

“Don’t- I know what you’re going to ask, and I… Harry, I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. You know that I can’t.”

Louis had his six siblings and his old house with its falling-apart porch to take care of. This town was where people still approached him, 8 years after high school graduation, to tell him that they loved him as Danny in Grease. This town was where he had his pick of suitors, where he had his first kiss, where he took his first steps, where his mama lived, died, and was buried, and he couldn’t leave just to follow some man that he loved.

Harry, for now, seemed to understand that.

“Okay, baby,” Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Okay.”

2) Candy In Your Mouth (I Know You Love Me) | Explicit | 6937 words

Things have shifted since last Christmas.

3) Glimpse Of The Silhouettes | Explicit | 7181 words

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

4) Woke Up Feeling Knotty | Explicit | 7903 words

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof.  When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them.  Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

5) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

It's never been a thing. Not until now.

6) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699 words

Four months into One Direction's hiatus, Louis comes to stay with Harry after a bad breakup.

7) (You're Gonna See Me In A) New Light | Mature | 13631 words

A fake relationship AU where everyone knows it's real but Louis.

8) As A Memento From Me | Explicit | 15817 words

Five lives in which Harry and Louis didn’t end up together, and one in which they did.

9) I Put A Spell On You | Explicit | 17525

A BBC/Secret Santa mashup featuring Captain Niall, our intrepid weatherman/amateur matchmaker, rather clueless sports reporter Liam, charming political analyst Zayn, and cheeky entertainment reporter Louis. Harry is the new fashion correspondent who prefers to dress like a flamingo. And pining. There’s a lot of pining.

10) Oblivious | Explicit | 19095 words

Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke and for some reason Harry starts acting weird.

11) Break Open The Sky | Explicit | 20372 words

Werewolf AU. Harry might be a werewolf, but he still wants to experience Uni like everyone else. Turns out he learns a lot.

12) Runnin’ Like You Did | Explicit | 20061 words

The college AU where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles.

13) UN(RE)SOLVED. | Explicit | 20873 words

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

14) Hats Off To My Distant Hope | Explicit | 20990 words

Harry is in White Eskimo. Louis is in London.

15) The Way The Storms Blow | Explicit | 20649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

16) Love Like Wildfire | Explicit | 21774 words

Louis was an Omega and a Prefect. Harry was an Alpha and a little rascal. They were mates, drawn to each other since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. They worked well like that, or at least they tried, which only made their relationship way more interesting.

17) Indestructible | Explicit | 24423 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

18) A Whole New World | Not Rated | 24967 words

Louis has moved into his new apartment to start his new job as a teacher. Things would be great. If only his arsehole neighbour didn't wake him up every morning by playing piano.

19) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

20) Brooklyn Saw Me | Explicit | 28537 words

In the cold and unforgiving city of New York, Louis doesn't have a home and Harry wants to give him one. But as their heartstrings become increasingly intertwined, and the snow continues to fall, home is getting harder and harder to find.

21) Rivers ‘Til I Reach You | Explicit | 29315 words

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

22) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

23) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

24) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32354 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

25) The List | Mature | 32074 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

26) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

An A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

27) The Sun Will Rise With My Name On Your Lips | Explicit | 37927 words

When Eleanor breaks up with Louis he finds it hard to keep pretending that Harry isn’t what he’s wanted since the day he first met him.

28) Runner On Third | Explicit | 39643 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is not BL.

The AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

29) My Sweetest Downfall | Mature | 42048 words

Louis is a retired guardian angel. After the death of his last charge, he became jaded. Humans die—what use is prolonging the inevitable?

He's more than happy to forget about humanity altogether until one day, when Louis is pulled from his desk job for a new assignment: protect One Direction's Harry Styles. It doesn't help that there's something about Harry that Louis can't resist, and it's making him question everything he's ever known. Humans are strictly off limits, and breaking that rule means risking everything, but Harry just might be worth it.

This is a story about forgiveness and discovery, featuring an angel who wants to be a little more human and a human who is so much more than he seems.

30) For the Sake of Propriety | Mature | 52360 words

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for.  His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best.  When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice.  But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

31) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

The one where Harry dates six other guys and still falls in love with Louis Tomlinson.

32) We’ve Got the World in Our Hands | Explicit | 54964 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

33) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 49873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

34) Since I’ve Found You | Mature | 74005 words

Louis woke up on the morning he was meant to volunteer at the Feed the Homeless program at St. Mary's church hoping for an opportunity to give back a little to a city that has given him everything he could ever want. Little did he know, there was one more great thing waiting there for him; a boy with radiant green eyes in a weathered jacket and a beat-up backpack slung over his shoulders.

35) Saving Symphony Hall | Mature | 124766 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

36) Falling Into You | Mature | 143517 words

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[detroitbydark]

Part 8

Characters: Commander Fox/Reader

Summary: things are getting interesting

Warnings: mentions of past smut but nothing really steamy.

A/N: this needs to be done as I’m tired of staring at it. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.

Padme Amidala was a dream to work with; polite, considerate, appreciative. Truly one of the few people in the Galactic Senate that Fox truly enjoyed. Her ability to rally those around her to her cause and spark loyalty in her followers was something he couldn’t help but admire and though her strong willed personality had put them at odds at times (when keeping her safe out weighed her desire to throw herself headlong into danger) he would always consider himself a fan.

Which made it all the more irritating that he was on detail for Raxallian Thrug, the sniveling chakaar from Cantonica. Every vile cliche Fox had ever heard about politicians was on display in Thrug. Deceitful, underhanded, slimy- the list went on and on.

Fox stands at attention behind his current charge as he leans to the aide at his side and whispers what amounted to filth into his ear as Senator Amidala gave an impassioned plea for aide to the outer rim, heavily under siege from seppie forces.

Did Thrug not realize Fox could hear every disgusting comment he made about Amidala or did he simply not care what a clone may or may not hear. Clenching his hands into fists, Fox wasn’t sure what option bothered him more.

Trying to block the senator out he looks past him, scanning the crowd for any anomalies, anything that stood out or could indicate an issue.

Rule’s voice crackles through his helmet comms. “She’s really worked up over this”.

Aside from the HUD and the various other bells and whistles the buckets were equipped with, the ability for private comms was one of the biggest perks in Fox’s eyes. No one ever needed to know they were talking.

“Seems to be, yeah” he hums in agreement.

“She said to say ‘hi’ earlier. You think she’s got a crush too?” Rule teases.

Fox rolls his eyes behind his visor. He doesn’t justify that with a response. Padmé Amidala was not interested in the likes of him, she merely cared about those around her. Even if she did, his interest lay elsewhere.

Interest wasn’t the right word though was it? Not after what he’d done. Not after what he’d said. He’d said those words, those words, to not one other soul in his life. He honestly had never even thought about the phrase before he was quieting her with it. They had just been one of the many things he- and many other troopers- absorbed over time about their progenitor’s culture. Mando’a spread like wildfire when spoken in barracks and war zones across the galaxy. They were just men without history, without a background or roots, looking for meaning and belonging outside of someone else’s war.

He’d been supremely thankful (and also a little miffed) when she hadn’t questioned him any further on his amorous declaration. Hadn’t she even been curious? Obviously she didn’t feel the same. How could she?

He’d taken her in a way he’d only dreamt about, done something he had relegated to his most private fantasies. But she’d encouraged it. She’d asked for more. For more explanation, for more of everything. Even now the memory of spilling inside her, of the way she’d sobbed out her release and quaked in his arms sent a thrill through Fox. He was a man nursing a borderline obsession and it was going to end badly for the both of them if he wasn’t careful.

“Commander?” Rules voice breaks hesitantly into his thoughts.

“I hear you, Rule. Whatcha got?”

“I’m not sure sir. I just got a flash of something in quadrant three, northwest corner. HUD picked up a wonky looking heat signature.”

Fox’s eyes scan to the coordinates that pop up on his display, a balcony two levels above where he stood guard behind Thrug. It should have been unoccupied. That was the game plan, no guests above Guard eyesight.

“Ryk?” Fox’s voice is brisk as his mind starts working through the possibilities, adrenaline slowly seeping into his system. “Come stand with the good senator while I look into this.”

“Yes Commander?”

Fox has approximately three minutes to think of all the horrible possibilities. Snipers, Bombs, Seppie Sympathizers. Each one offers a new and more complicated amount of paperwork. And more headaches.

Always the headaches. They were getting worse each week. More frequent. More intense. More of a pain in his ass.

Mouse had noticed. Mouse always noticed. This morning she’d crawled over him, still only in his shirt, and gone digging through the ‘fresher cabinet til she’d found a bottle of pain pills. She’d come back with the bottle, water, and a cool cloth for his head. He would have fallen to his knees and worshipped her if his head hadn’t caused such a revolt. She’d laid with him, legs straddling his hips and body sprawled over his, before the sun came up and done her weird little miracle massage along his forehead even though he knew she was exhausted. It had helped but hadn’t cured him. Even now the dull ache followed him.

Ryk slips into Thrugs box and if the politician registers one clone has traded places with the other, Fox will be surprised.

He takes the steps up to the supposedly empty balcony dragging his deece from the holster as he gets to the door, eyes drop to the weapon to check settings. The door is slightly ajar and he can see a quick flash of movement through the crack.

He counts silently to three before his boot connects with the door control, slamming it open. It’s a tense moment as he finds himself face to face with the singing blue plasma blade of a lightsaber and a pair of blasters, identical to his, pointed dead center mass at his being.

“Commander Fox” Anakin Skywalker’s voice is cool as it greets him. The curse that escapes from Captain Rex at his side is less than formal.

“Fierfek, Fox…” he grumbles lowly, something Fox vaguely hears as something about shooting his shebs off.

General Skywalker retracts his blade and both clones lower their blasters, pausing for a tense moment before holstering the weapons.

“General. Captain. This area is off limits. If I may ask, why are you up here?” He aims for stern military Commander but he can’t help the cringe under his bucket as Skywalker raises a brow in his direction. “With all do respect General” he adds as on afterthought.

Rex must sense the brewing tension between the pair as he steps into speak for his general. “We were just trying to get a good spot to listen to Senator Amidala speak. We’re both fans.” A look passes between the pair that Fox can’t decipher. Skywalker rolls his eyes at his captain before turning back to Fox.

There was no love lost between the general and the Commander. Too much had happened that set their paths intersecting- and not for the better- for them to meet with anything but anxiety (from Fox) and thinly veiled contempt (from the Jedi).

The Jedi waves his hand dismissively turning his back to the clones. It raises the small hairs on the back of Fox’s neck. He should be used to this by now, the brush off, the outright disdain that he and his men had been forced to become accustomed too. In the name of obedience and loyalty he has to handle the general’s brush off with an acceptance that he doesn’t feel.

He turns stiffly as the roar of the crowd rises up to them. A quick glance over his shoulder shows Skywalker staring down at the young Senator with a look in his eyes that felt, at once, both foreign and all too familiar to Fox.

“Fox?” Rex’s voice rises over the sounds below. “I was wondering if I could talk to you? I was going to just stop at your office but since your here now-“

Fox’s bucket cocks to the side. anything Rex has to say to him wouldn’t be in front of the Jedi. “my office is fine. I’ll be there all afternoon”

Rex looks as if he’s about to argue but he stops and gives him a nod of affirmation. There was history between them and if something had to come of it then it would be on Fox’s terms. In private.

“Commander? You ok?” Ryk’s voice crackles through his helmet comms.

“Yeah, Ryk, nothing worth seeing here.”

———-

Your body throbs dully, the pleasant soreness from last night sending a shiver down your spine each time you think back on it. Everytime you think of Fox your body reacts, a warm flush of color to your cheeks or a full feeling in your chest that can only be one thing. Kriff. You were in deep and you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips when you thought about him.

You move through the cafeteria line, slowly gathering a few things for a light lunch. You weren’t particularly hungry but you grab a sandwich and a bag of protato chips along with a small cup of fruit. And the largest mug of caf available because you were exhausted. Fox had not let you be done after your initial romp. Your cheeks flame hot as you remember waking in the middle of the night to his tongue lapping are your cunt and the soft groans he made between praising you for taking him so well and telling you how much he wanted to have you again and again.

You wonder if anyone can tell the filthy thoughts you're having, how you were remembering Fox cleaning up his release that had leaked from your overly full core.

You needed a cold shower. Or your Commander.

“Mouse!” Sargent Wren elbows through a trio of troopers to get to you. He smiles brightly as he places his own food on your tray and takes it from you. “I’ll carry that.”

You give it up, knowing that there was no use in arguing. Wren falls in at your side as he grabs a pair of ration bars and adds it to the tray.

“For later” he explains. You’d never in your life seen people that could put away so much food. Hound had once explained it was due to a higher than normal metabolism and, while they’d been engineered to run on the dense ration bars alone, if given the option, each clone could put away seemingly half his weight in food at each meal. Nearly every one you’d met had a viscous sweet tooth on top of it. You’d learned the hard way after the candy stash you’d kept in your desk drawer had been discovered and raided but a group of “unknown perpetrators“.

Ryk and Rule had promised to look into it, Rule with bits of chocolate still clinging to his lip.

“All by yourself today?” Wren asks conversationally as the pair of you find an unoccupied table. You know what he’s asking. You’ll have to inform Fox that the pair of you were the worst kept secret in the Guard.

“Senator Amidala had a speech today. He’s pulling protection detail.”

“With Amidala?” Wren has shoved a large bite of sandwich in his mouth and struggles to swallow as he asks the question. You push a canteen of water to him.

“No. Thrug I believe.” The Sargent makes a sound of understanding as he gulps down a drink. He coughs once as the food goes down.

“That sounds about right. Since The incident with Skywalker’s Padawan he hasn’t been pulling detail with the senator. Word is General Skywalker is a bit protective over her. Unfortunately the Commander is a two time loser in the generals eyes.”

The fruit in your cup is a bit too ripe, but you eat it regardless, chewing thoughtfully. Wren is right. You hadn’t noticed the change but now that it was pointed out you wonder how you’d missed it. Maybe Fox wasn’t the only one carrying on an unheard of affair, not that you could blame the Jedi. You’d only met once (and for a second at that) but you’d found Padmé Amidala to be courteous and warm, much more like senators Chuchi and Organa than the loud blustering career politicians from other worlds.

You keep your mouth shut. If you'd learned one thing it was best to stay out of matters involving Jedi. Public opinion on the war and the order itself had been wavering as of late. Your concern was with Fox and the men of the Coruscant Guard and while what happened with the Senate and the war would affect them on a grand scale you’d come to terms with the fact that you couldn’t control that. You could, however, control things in their daily lives. Make things easier in little ways. It was a small consolation but it was what you could offer.

It was more than some, who claimed to be for clone rights, did. A glance around the cafeteria shows the self segregation, clones and civilian contractors at separate tables not mixing or interacting. A group of troopers to your right argues good naturedly in Mando’a. Wren smothers a smile as he listens in.

“What’s so funny?”

Wren looks up at you, confusion then clarity lights his face, “just a joke” he gestures toward the other clones. “It’s stupid” he dismisses.

You huff a breath. Maybe you wanted to hear a stupid joke. Not for the first time you wished you knew the language the troopers bantered in.

“Really Mouse it’s not even that funny. Like, ‘your mother’ jokes? We don’t even have mothers.” Wren rapidly tries to explain and hold up your hand for him to stop.

“It’s fine. I get it. You’d think I’d have picked up some Mando’a by this point anyway.”

Wren shrugs as if agreeing with you. “I could teach you a few words if you want?” He offers. He waits while you think. “Come on” he presses.

You shrug, “ok, cyar’ika” you throw back at him.

His flashes a toothy grin, “easy- and I can guess where you’ve been hearing that one- beloved, darling. It’s a term of endearment but I’m sure you’ve learned that by now.”

You fight back a blush, hiding behind a big gulp of caf. “Something like that.”

He goes on unprompted with simple words for child, mother/father, outsiders, Jedi. You try to burn each into your memory.

“Al’verde Fox” he offers and you shrug.

“Leader Fox?”

“Close! Very close Mous’ika” Wren is an enthusiastic teacher. He makes an encouraging gesture with his hands, “try again”.

You think carefully before your next attempt, “Commander Fox?”

Wren slaps his hand against the table with a laugh. You jump slightly at the loud noise. “Yes! Good job! Now” he offers, “you tell me something and I’ll translate it”

The words don’t even pause at your lips before they slip out. Your accent is atrocious and you're not sure if it comes out correct. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”.

The phrase catches Wren mid-drink and he seems to choke before he’s able to swallow down the liquid on his mouth. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“Yes, wow” he sobers “wanna tell me where you heard that doozy? Or should I guess?”

“Well are you going to tell me what it means or what?”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum” he repeats, the words flowing off his tongue easily and without the stilted tone you’d used “I know you forever” he says softly.

It’s a pretty phrase and you say as much.

“Pretty is an understatement. It’s the Mando equivalent to a declaration of love.”

———

Fox paces his office floor as he flips through screen after screen of requisitions. This was the part of his job he hated most. The supply clerk was in charge of getting all orders together, but as Commander, he had to give final authorization for every order going through. It was mind numbing, monotonous.

A soft knock comes mid step and he gives a sharp bark to enter. Between dealing with Thrug, his unexpected run in with Skywalker and the Captain of the 501st, and the new stress inducing realization of the depth of his emotions for his little Mouse,Fox feels off-kilter. He doesn’t like it.

Mouse enters bearing a ration bar, a mug, and a smile that makes him forget his raw nerves.

“Caf?” He asks enthusiastically. She shakes her head and gives him a skeptical smile.

“Tea. A little less stimulating this late in the afternoon.” She sets both on his desk before leaning against the duraplast and taking him in.

“What?”

Something soft tugs at the corner of her mouth. She shrugs, “just wondering why you're trying to wear a tread through the floor. That’s all.”

The eye roll he gives is big and dramatic and she chuckles quietly. He moves to the desk, tossing the datapad down. It doesn’t take much to work her bottom back onto the surface and step between her legs. She looks hesitant, staring up at him, her lip between her teeth in that telling way of hers.

“Something wrong, Cyar’ika?” Gently, his gloved hand cups her cheek and she tips softly into it. He places a soft kiss on the crown of her head before her eyes flutter shut. She’s so kriffing soft. He scarcely believes he’s allowed to handle anything so delicate and fragile. Fox’s fingers slip to her chin and angle her mouth up to him.

“Was your day really that bad?” She probes. Fox can feel her feet hooking behind his knees and pulling in til he was flush with her body.

“S’much better now” he’s being purposefully evasive. Mouse didn’t need to worry about the things that had been weighing heavily on him, nor did he want her to realize that she was one of them. He slides his mouth over hers, sharing his breath and taking in hers in return in a soft reverent meditation masquerading as a kiss. Being wrapped up in his precious girl does seem to make everything better, the tension pressing in on his chest eases. The soft sigh that slips past her lips as his teeth nip at her is the best thing he’s heard all day.

One hand splays across his chest while the other grips behind his neck. She mewls sweetly as his tongue tastes her. Sweet girl tastes like caf-

“Commander Fox-“ Fox has missed the tell-tale slide of the door and curses mentally.

Mouse makes a distressed noise as the deep voice cuts through the room. She pushes ineffectively against Fox’s chest as he squeezes his eyes shut. Fox doesn’t move as Mouse scoots back enough to slip her legs from around him and rise to her feet. She looks up wide-eyed and accusing, as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Her cheeks are a vivid shade of pink. Her look is one of absolute embarrassment.

He wants to lean in and kiss her swollen lips again, tell her there’s nothing to fear or worry about because he had her. Of course, he can’t do that but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to. He watches as she smooths her skirt and mutters something about getting back to work.

Fox can feel eyes burning into his back. He knew the voice as well as he knew his own. Some believed that clones were interchangeable but any person who’d spent any amount of time should be able to tell him or Rex from their other vode. Little things like accents they’d picked, how they worded their thoughts. How they carried themselves.

“Captain Rex. It’s customary to knock before entering.” Fox spins to see his visitor turning away from his furiously blushing secretary as she scurries past him and out the door.

“My deepest apologies” What Rex says and his tone don’t exactly match up. Fox has a feeling he’s given the Captain free entertainment and a serious bit of gossip to bring back to the front. “I was unaware you were preoccupied with- such an important engagement.”

Fox smiles, a thing full of teeth and thinly veiled menace. “I can understand how you wouldn’t understand such things, ner vod.”

Rex’s helmet shakes and Fox can hear the quick huff of dark laughter that filters through his vocoder before he’s reaching up to remove his helmet. “I'm really sorry about that. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was” Fox agrees, moving to sit at his desk and motioning for Rex to sit across from him. He hesitates a moment and Fox wonders if he’s ever been offered a seat in any meeting. Is he relegated to standing over the shoulder of Skywalker like a well healed akk dog? He doesn’t ask. “What can I do for you today?”

Rex sits straight, his face a composed mask. This wasn’t a social call though that was no different from any interactions they’d had before.

“I need to apologize for the incident with my shinies.” The stiff pseudo apology catches Fox off guard. He sits quietly for a moment. The two clones staring at one another.

“Ok.”

“Ok? That’s it?” Rex’s voice is wary.

“Am I supposed to throw a fit? Yell and scream that I want their buckets on a platter? What would you have me say Captain?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose, “look I get it. Trust me. Since-“ he angles away from the other clone. “I get I’m not ever going to win a popularity contest and yeah, it was not kriffing fun. Actually, it was about the least amount of fun I’ve had in a while but what am I supposed to demand? Demotion? Reconditioning?”

Rex flinches at the last word.

“Exactly” Fox feels as if he’s made his point. “So if that’s all you wanted…” he lets the words hang in the air between them. Rex closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“That’s not it.”

Fox can feel what’s coming next, always knew it would come.

“I need to know about that day. I need to know why you killed Fives.”

The Captain’s stare is unyielding and Fox feels like he’s under a microscope, rigid and without escape while the clone across from him dissects each move and every word he’s about to say. He’s never backed down for a fight in his life but right now, right here? He wants to do nothing more than get away.

“He had a gun.” Fox draws a steadying breath but his voice comes out shaky and he's disgusted at his own weakness washes over him. “I told him to stand down. I told him to get on his knees. Even after he grabbed the kriffing thing I told him not to do it. I-“

“Why didn’t you just stun him” Rex’s voice rises above his, anger bleeding into every word as he leans forward, planting his hands on the desk as he rises to his feet.

The invasion of space throws Fox off. He rolls his shoulders briefly trying to ease the tension that was growing there. The spot behind his eyes throbs. “The settings were wrong. I- I don’t know how but the kriffing setting was wrong.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that”

Something in the arch of the captain’s brow, the accusatory nature of what he was in insinuating sparks white hot rage in Fox’s chest. The photos on the wall rattle as he rises to his feet, his fist meeting the wall behind him.

“What are you saying?!”he asks turning on the blonde clone. “Are you inferring that I had it out for him? A vod I’d never met? That I went looking to kill a brother?”

Rex flinches back. Fox’s knuckles throb. He focuses on the growing ache, uses it to stay grounded. His voice is low, a pained snarl.

“His death will never leave me. I pulled the trigger that ended his life. Do you know- can you understand what that feels like?”

“He said this was bigger than us” Rex pushes on, seemingly paying no mind to what Fox had said.

“And that means I was in on a conspiracy?”

“Damn it, Fox” Rex growls, “you said you don’t know how your blaster ended up throwing bolts!”

Something about that catches Fox right in the gut, steals air from his lungs. As quickly as his rage had swollen it subsides and he’s left to sink back down to his desk, forehead cradled in his head.

“Bigger than us” he repeats Rex’s words- Fives words- quietly.

“He mentioned a conspiracy to Kix” the blonde clone doesn’t sit but he’s posture loosens.

“Conspiracy?”

“Something that went all the way to the top. Said the clones and the Jedi were in great danger.”

“Tell me more.”