#i post from obi's big ass sleeve

[darth-kote]

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

A ball| Tup

Note: they did not need to make him that Pretty

Warnings: no not really, just Tup and Y/n fallin in love and steamy scene at the very end but kinda not really, also this is really long

Reader: female

Part 1 | 2 (in the works)

"Checkmate," Satine spoke.

"Damn it..." Y/n muttered, hand on her chin as Satine had one yet again another game.

Satine smiled at her, as Y/n tried reading the board seeing how it had exactly happened.

"Duchess, excuse me." A guard interrupted their leisurely game outside in the guards of the castle.

"It's no problem, what seems to be the problem?" Satine questioned.

"The preparations for the ball are underway, the royal seamstress says your outfits are done and asks if you both can approve of them."

"Yes of course," Satine spoke, two more guards walking up with boxes.

"Oh. no, I'm quite okay," Y/n responded, resetting the black and clear glass pieces.

"Y/n, you are turning 19, my dear, you'll need to look presentable," Satine spoke.

"Dutchess I believe I look presentable, I'm quite comfortable like this as well," Y/n told.

"I know my sweet child, you've always been comfortable with the bare minimum, but please, let me spoil you for one day," Satine responded.

Y/n was quiet as she set the final piece down, "very well..."

Satine smiled as she stood up to look inside the box and approve the dress, Y/n sat in thought, Satine wasn't her mother, no they looked drastically different after all, Y/n had been left in a bush in the palace gardens, Satine finding the child alone and in silence, busying herself with one of the flowers. Satine had gladly kept the child inside the palace walls until a parent came along, but no one ever came and Satine was suddenly a mother.

"Mistress." The guard spoke snapping her out of thought.

"Oh uh, yes." Y/n spoke standing up from her seat, and looking at the creme outfit with barely a glance, "Yes, it's beautiful, tell the Seamstress 100 thanks."

The guard nodded covering the box as they all bowed and left, Satine frowned, "Come walk. Let's talk my daughter."

"General Skywalker, do, do we really have to go as well?" Tup questioned, droids handing them all dark blue suits almost black in color, and matte.

"Yes, Obi-Wan was double security at this event for the Dutchess, and I agree with him," Anakin spoke, "Separatist parties will be there, Duchess Satine has a knack for being able to convince people, and with Padame they're practically an unstoppable team."

"But," Tup spoke, "Sir a, a party?"

"Diplomatic party, you'll be fine Tup."

Anakin then walked away to let his boys get ready and go get himself ready.

"I look good," Fives spoke checking himself out in the mirror.

"It's nice to wear something besides armor." Hardcase commented, "Makes me feel like a civie."

"A civie that just has thousands of replicas." Dogma argued.

"Oh get the stick out your ass," Jesse argued, "We can have fun for the one time in our life on the job,"

"Hey," Kix placed a hand on Tup's shoulder, "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah," Tup spoke, "Crowds, uh aren't my thing."

"I'll make sure Rex posts you on the patio outside, you won't be around too many people then," Kix told.

"No, It's fine, I'm on the job- I'll, uh...just focus on that," Tup responded.

"Are you sure?"

Tup nodded as Kix returned the nod in understanding, going back to dressing himself, Tup went over to his bunk to dress, he'd admit, even though he was the same as everyone else in that room, he still felt shy, being a bit leaner than the others he started pulling his armor off to dress in the new outfit, simply putting the outfit over his blacks.

"What- No! Hey I want a titty window!" Fives argued.

"No," Echo demand, buttoning up his brother's shirt fixing Fives vest as well.

Tup stayed silent as he buttoned up the shirt, tucking it into the slacks and putting on the matching vest.

"OH Ho HO!" Fives whistled, "Look at Tup!"

"Yeah, thanks," Tup spoke, fixing the collar of his shirt, and pushing up the sleeves.

"Come on! Let your hair down! We're going somewhere fancy!"

"I'm good." Tup spoke

"He's way to excited for this." Dogma protested causing Tup to chuckle.

"You look nice." Tup commented.

"Uh. Yeah I guess." Dogma spoke.

The two had gotten close due to one another due to being not only regular troopers with no rank, but due to there quietness.

"OH HO HO! LOOK WHO JUST CAME IN! GENERAL TANO!"

The boys turned there head whistling playfully.

"Bad bitch is the house."

She wore a pinstrip pant suit, the lines orange on white fabric and a pair of heels. She laughed.

"We're almost there." She spoke, "Skyguy wants us on the transports now."

Tup followed suit of everyone else. Everyone doing as asked, it was odd, seeing everyone dressed up all fancy and nice.

Y/n sighed.

"Look up madame. They'll be plenty fine gentlemen there." A maid tried to pursuade, "or a woman if you'd prefer."

"Yes. I know." Y/n responded mindlessly, nose stuck in the book about game tactics, her goal to be her mother, "mhm. I've never tried that before."

The maid sighed finishing y/n's hair in the crowned braid.

"Look look beautiful."

"Mhm."

The maid frowned, and there was a knock on the door. It opened as Satine came in, the maid bowing and leaving quickly.

"You're nose still stuck in a book. You remind me much of Obi-wan."

"Is the party over yet?" Y/n questioned flipping the page.

"It hasnt even began my dear." Satine spoke, expecting a comment back Y/n kept silent sitting infront of her simple vanity it black in color and matched the bench she sat on.

Satine walked over, taking the open spot next to Y/n.

"What is wrong me dear?" Satine inquired, "You don't avidly read strategic books unless something is wrong."

Y/n sighed, marking the book with a string and setting it down.

"I. I just don't wish to go." Y/n responded.

"It is much bigger than that isn't it?" Satine refered, catching Y/n in her lie.

"I." Y/n sighed, "I am nervous."

"For what my darling?"

"People." Y/n responded, "I. This. People...it's...I dont have the skills."

"Well of course you do,"

"I've never been out the palace walls, I've never fallen in love, I've never been taken advantage of- I just- Don't know anything about people," y/n defended "I've never even seen another sential species besides the holograms and images in my books that use words. I know every launage out there but have never met there people- I-"

"Calm down, take a deep breathe." Satine soothed, "everything will be fine. I will be at your side. The whole time, and you know me. Don't you?"

Y/n nodded as Satine smiled, "You're turning 19 my dear, becoming a young woman. You can do this, and I will guide you through whatever you ask."

Y/n only nodded once more, "now. Lets put our. Pain killing heels on and make haste shall we? Guest are arriving and I'd like to introduce you to your very first group of friends, but first."

Y/n watched as Satine pulled out a box, "I had something much. Much more elaborate my birthday, but you I know. Like to keep things as simple as possible."

Y/n took the small box in hand. Opening the golden box there was a small golden crown, it reminded her of a laurel wreath, yet without as many leaves, a few littered around the gold band with a stone that was ment to set on her forehead.

"For you're love of nature a green stone." Satine spoke.

"Its beatiful, thank you." Y/n spoke softly pulling it out of its box.

"Allow me." Satine spoke, y/n handing it over and bowing her head, Satine with a smile set the item on her head.

Y/n raised her head back up, "quiet beatiful you have become."

Y/n smiled smallly, "now. Shall we make haste? To make new friends?"

Y/n nodded smally as Satine smiled.

With that they were off, y/n following Satine dressed up nice, and thanked maker for the soleless sandles given to her instead of heels.

Y/n wouldn't lie, when General Kenobi arrived as they walked out onto the royal landing pad she found no interest in him, bowing her head respectfully, she did the same with Anakin. A bit more intrigued with Ashoka, but nothing pictures hadn't depicted. A man stood next to Anakin, who was soon introduced as Captain Rex. Y/n welcomed and thanked him for coming, but besides that, she was silent during the conversation.

"Sir, apologies for interrupting."

"It's fine, Jesse go ahead," Anakin spoke, Y/n watching the man with a large tattoo on his face gave a brief report to his general as the two joined the tight group of talkers.

Y/n was intrigued with the man next to him, hair tied back in a bun as his brother in arms talked. He too seemed the silent type, staying behind Jesse's shoulder rather than next to him, it was a slight difference Y/n realized.

"Lady Y/n, these are two are some of my finest men, Jesse and Tup."

"Lady Y/n" Jesse spoke bowing his head.

"Nice to meet you," Tup spoke nervously, his hand outreached for a handshake, Jesse quickly pulling his brother's hand down who was already a nervous wreck.

"Apologies for my brother! He doesn't know how to act!" Jesse scolded elbowing Tup slightly who was already shaming himself mentally and Y/n could sense it, but Jesse was already dragging him away with an insane amount of apologies as he left. 

Y/n watched as they got far enough away to where Jesse had started to drag Tup by the collar of his shirt.

"Lively bunch aren't they?" Satine questioned Y/n who nodded.

"My apologies Duchess, Lady Y/n. The 501st is not very big on tradition, and neither is there general."  Obi-Wan scolded as Anakin shrugged.

"It's okay." Y/n finally spoke up, causing heads to turn, "I, um, apologizes. Duchess if I may."

"Yes, you can go ahead," Satine spoke worried for the girl as she rushed off quickly. 

"Will she be okay?" Ashoka questioned.

"She has no social skills, and on top that, no friends her age," Satine spoke solemnly, "I wish to help her but she's a closed book." 

"Have I got the perfect trooper for her to make friends with," Anakin responded

"You're not sending Fives or Hardcase over to her, if anyone to watch her it'll be Cody, at least he can stay on task," Obi-wan argued.

"I think me and my master have the same idea," Ashoka smirked.

"I- I'm sorry general- Me?" Tup questioned.

"Yes I need a clone with Lady Y/n at all times, and since she seems to like you after a slip up that could have cost us a whole war," Anakin spoke, "You're watching her,"

"General! I. I can't watch her! I. I. I. I have patrol!" Tup tried to argue.

"Kix is on patrol now, she's supposedly back in her room," Anakin spoke.

"Her- what!?" Tup argued.

"one of the guards will escort you thanks again."

"Wait! General!" Tup argued but he was walking away and waving to Tup happily. 

"Are you the clone trooper known as Tup?" A guard asked walking up to him.

"yes, but wait a minute!-"

"This way." 

Tup had no option but to follow a guard at his back and his front as they escorted him to the room. Anxiety racked his body, his hands clammy and squeezing each other as he gulped, the guards stopping and knocking.

"Mistress your escort is here."

"Oh, yes," Y/n spoke quietly, "He may come in alone."

The guards posted outside her room as Tup pushed one of the doors opened, he walked in silently and closed the door behind him carefully.

Looking straight on the large french doors were opened to a patio. Walking towards the open doors he found Y/n sitting on the floor a stack of books beside her with a chessboard by her side, her knees raised to her chest as her dress was laid out around her.

"I'm uh, your guard for the dance," Tup spoke, his thumb pressing into his palm.

"You can go back, I'm not going," Y/n told him, her mouth and jaw covered by her arms propped on her knees.

"oh, uh..." Tup spoke, not knowing what to do.

Y/n looked beside her, "You can sit, maybe you'll get in less trouble that way?"

He nodded in agreement, taking a seat on one side of the chess board. They sat in silence against the wall. Tup looking down at the pieces of the board set up on their respective sides, his clammy hands couldn't help but move a piece. Y/n looked overhearing the crystal click on the board. Looking down she picked up a piece and moved it, Tup moving his next piece without a word. Y/n looked down at the board, her legs falling from her chest and onto the ground flat as she looked over in thought. Picking up her next piece she took his pawn, setting it down on the side.  As they played they could hear the talk of guests starting to come to the palace. Due to where Y/n's room was it wasn't much to hear, just the occasional burst of loud laughter. 

"Ah yes! Yes!" One laughed spoke loudly, "I love the stars!"

Y/n suddenly came with an outburst the came with the man's hearty laugh, "I have loved the stars to foundly-"

"-to be fearful of the night." Tup finished moving his next piece.

Y/n's moved her gaze up softly then chuckled, "Mythology lover?"

"When I have the time, I mostly learn through tell and hear," Tup responded watching Y/n capture another piece.

It was silent again as Tup captured yet another piece, his eyes drifting over to her stack of books. Eyes glancing over the titles.

"H.P Lovecraft?" Tup questioned Y/n nodding.

"I find his stories interesting, I enjoy the horror genere as a whole." Y/n smiled moving her next peice, "do you like horror?"

Tup nodded, "I do occasionally, again hear and tell mostly."

Y/n nodded, "come with me."

Y/n stood up, walking into her room, Tup watching her.

"Come on." Y/n gestured holding out a hand for him.

He took it gently and was pulled up from his spot on the floor. Y/n led him by the hand into her room and towards a wall pushing on a certain spot a small door opened. Y/n leaned down walking through the door as Tup followed, Y/n closed the door behind them.

"Woah."

Y/n smiled, "the palace library."

"I am the only one who's ever in here." Y/n contuined.

The two walked side by side, out from the side of the room and into the center of the room. Tup turned around to speak, but he watched her pass a dusty window, the sun set passing in through cobwebs and dusty, shining on her think crown, her dress flowly and made up of multiple thin layers of fabric.

He gulped as she turned her head, stopping in her spot.

"What's wrong?"

"I," he started but stopped for a momment, "My name, its. It's Tup. I don't know if you-"

"Remember you?" Y/n questioned, "I do."

She walked up to him a hand extended, "Y/n."

He smiled as they shook hands.

"Tup." He introduced himself once again as they chuckled lightly.

They pulled away, Y/n's hands clasped infront of her.

"Well Tup its very nice to meet you again."

"Its nice to meet you too Lady Y/n."

"Lady Y/n!"

She took a quick step back from her closeness with Tup, clearing her throat.

"Oh thank maker..." the gaurd spoke under his breathe, "the duchess wishes for you to greet your guest."

Y/n nodded softly, "Well. Let's go?"

Tup nodded, the two leaving side by side in silence. They two making there way down to the main set of doors which led to the throne room.

"Lady Y/n." Obi-wan spoke, "The Duchess ask I escort you in while introduced."

"Oh." Y/n spoke looking at Tup he gave her an akwards thumb up, she chuckled and smiled at him with a nod.

Y/n smiled Obi wan extending an arm, Y/n linking arms with the Jedi General. The doors opened as they walked forward.

"Introducing Lady Y/n! Daughter of Dutchess Satine! Next in line for the throne!"

Y/n and Obi-wan walked forward people clearing a straight shot to her mother. Her and Obi-wan walked forward, feeling the stares on her she kept silent. It soon because uncomfortable, feeling the gaze more than just simple admiration or awe. She tensed as they walked making her to the steps to Satines throne. She pulled away from Obi-wan, bowing her head to her mother as she walked up, a smaller throne simplistic like how Y/n liked it and took a simple seat, she watched Tup sneak into the room carefully standing next to a man who had a medical band on his arm with his suit, before everyone started to fill the room again.

Satine stood up, she was making a speech Y/n zoned out, it was a greeting, thanking everyone personally for coming to celebrate Y/n's transition into womenhood.

"That's why I am glad to speak, Y/n's hand is extended for potential marraige candidates!"

Y/n sat up shocked, and Satine thanked everyone once again and took a seat. Everyone going back to chatting.

"Excuse me!? Marraige?" Y/n argued.

"It is a formality you do not have to marry anyone."

"Im not taking anyone into consideration," Y/n defended, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat.

"Lady Y/n-"

"No." Y/n spoke, she was beyond annoyed.

"Thank you for your time..." he spoke bowing his head and walking away heart broken.

Y/n rejected any man that came up to try and give there hand to her.

Tup watched from afar, Kix and Dogma by his side. Men contuined to go up to her and as more and more did she seemed more and more irratated. He quickly walked away from his brothers would watched him out of confusion.

Watching him walk up to the thrown he started walking up the steps.

"Y/n," Tup spoke, holding a hand out for her, "I'd like to spend time with you, perhaps a dance?"

"Hey! Buddy wait in line!" A man argued but Y/n looked at Tup thanks in her eyes.

The lighting on him seemed perfect, he back lit perfectly, his eyes holding a smile along with his lips. Y/n grabbed his hand lightly as Tup helped her up, the two walking down the stairs hand in hand.

"Thank you." Y/n spoke they now in the crowd of people.

"Seems you needed it," Tup answered as Y/n chuckled.

"To the libary?"

"Actually," Tup spoke quietly, "I'd...like to have a dance with you."

Y/n flushed, "t-that sounds good. Yeah."

It was almost on cue did everyone backed up circling people who wanted to dance, Y/n and Tup in the center of it.

"Um. Tup." Y/n spoke.

"Hm?"

"Do you know how to dance?"

"Oh. Uh." Tup spoke, "no actually, do. Do you?"

Y/n shook her head no. The two laughing together as the music started.

"Suppose we should act like we're doing and maybe we'll fall in?" Y/n laughed.

Tup smiled in return, "I suppose."

The music started as they watched other, a simple waltz. Y/n and Tup luckily able to copy others, hands which once were placed in hand on on him, soon became more intimate, fingers intertwining. Tup's hand moving from her hip to the small of her back, she leaning into his touch just a bit more.

"Not bad." Y/n spoke softly, "we're doing decent."

Tup chuckled softly in return, "I suppose us clones learn quick."

"Clone?" Y/n questioned, "you're a clone?"

Tup looked at her confused, "You. You don't know that?" He questioned confused.

"I." Y/n spoke, "I don't mean to sound, uh, Rude."

Tup frowned, maybe she was an avid clone hater?

"I um. Havent payed much attention, to your face, my apologies." Y/n spoke, a flush coming to her cheeks.

"Am I offensive?" Tup questioned.

"No. No. Not at all." Y/n spoke, "On the contrary actually. I. Find you most appealing, your. Voice and presence is quiet soothing. You're a good man."

It was Tup's turn to flush, spinning her around softly as everyone else did. Her dress picking up just the slightest at the ends. Pulling her back into his grasp, it was sudden for both of them, there chest pressed up against one another, faces close, Tup's hand now across the small of her back grabbing her other hip as he lowered her into a dip, Y/n's arm around his neck as he did.

The claps of everyone was muffled in there ears.

Tup's nose brushing against hers as he tilted his head softly, Y/n stopping him with a hand on hie jaw , and she was raised up again in a flash.

"I. Im sorry" Tup apologized, everyone still clapping as Y/n bowed to him red faced.

"I...must go." Y/n spoke quickly rushing away and into the crowd.

"Wait!" Tup called rushing after her, she rushing out the throne room.

"My lady-"

"Im quiet fine a game of tag is all." Y/n defended rushing off, the urge of wanting Tup so bad fueling her feet as she ran from him.

Tup rushed looking both ways, "Which way did she go?"

"Left sir-"

Tup rushed after her, his shoes clicking against the marble floors of the palace as he ran. Seeing her take a turn up ahead he called her name once more, following her quick steps, she rushed into her ungaurded room and closing the door behind her.

Making it to the doors he panted for a moment, soon calming his breath he knocked on the door.

"Please! Y/n I did not mean to upset you!" He begged, "I. I should have asked asked you! I should have never just jumped into it!"

Y/n quiet as she leaned against the door, her body pressed up against it to keep it closed, he seemed genuinely angered with himself, and worried for her.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Tup spoke softly, "I...just..."

Y/n stayed silent listening.

"I. Seen you for the first time walking up with my brother to report to General Skywalker..." he informed, "I had no idea someone could look so beautiful until I seen you, then. Well then we started that chess game."

Y/n's cheeks grew red as she listened, her heart starting to drop its quickly put up walls.

"You just spoke and It was beautiful. I. I'm not good with words either. I." He sighed, "I didn't realize someone like me could have so much in common with you... half the time my brothers don't like any same things as me. And we're all copies of each other."

The knot in her stomach grew as she gulped, "I. Tup. Its not that I'm mad at you."

Tup was surprised to hear an answer, "I. I think you're quiet beatiful, I. I just...I've never..."

"Y/n you do not need to explain yourself to me." Tup told her.

"Just. Let me finish." Y/n spoke calmly, "I've, well. Tup. I. I. I've never kissed anyone."

Y/n stopped waiting for a laugh, or even a 'yeah right', but she got a sincere chuckle trying to break the ice, "neither have I."

It was a surpise to Tup when the door opened softly, Y/n's flushed face being seen due to the light of the hall.

"Are you okay?" Tup questioned Y/n nodding her gaze to the floor.

"We're you being..serious?" Y/n questioned softly.

Tup nodded, growing nervous himself.

"Would you..umm. like too?" Y/n questioned, "kiss me?"

"I..um." tup spoke his face full red, "yes.."

Y/n opened up the door a bit more so he could come in, taking the hint he walked in the room dark. His eyes not having to adjust as the French doors which were uncovered let in moonlight.

Y/n closed the door quietly, locking it behind her so they'd be uninterrupted. He turned his head watching her walk towards him.

Oh maker.

They stood infront of each other nervously, refusing to make eye contact. Y/n with a shaking hand reached out her hand, her fingers dancing along his shoulder as he looked down.

"Tup. I." Y/n spoke, her other arm following her first one on the other side of his head his hands slipping onto her hips.

Nerves in a bundle they tensed in one anothers arms, faces leaning in slowly, noses brushed up against one another. A few of Tup's fingers tapped and tilted her face to the side as he tilted his own face the other way.

"Tup...Im nervous." Y/n whispered against his lips, "what happens if...if i like it too much?"

"I'll do anything you ask me..." he mummbled her hot breathe hitting his lips.

It was silent for another momment, Y/n's eyes slolwy closing as Tup's followed. They leaning in the small space as there lips pressrd against each others. The bundle of nerves melting away and falling into ribbions that slowly started to knot.

The kiss was, cute, nothing more than pressing there lips against one another and then pulled away little space between there lips, a new found hunger filled the both of them, Tup pressing forward in a much more passionate kiss, y/n kissed back, lips dancing against one another. Y/n pushed into Tup. Breathe heavy through the armature kisses. Tup mindlessly picked Y/m up, her legs wrapping around his waist as they contuined to kiss. Walking over to her bed he placed her down carefully, climbing over her body.

Kiss only breaking for air, "Do. Do you want this?" Tup questioned, things had moved awfully fast and turned into a one night stand, love filled relationship neither could explain.

Y/n nodded, "Only from you"

"Are you sure? I don't want you unsatisfied." Tup spoke honestly.

"If its you I'll never be unsatisfied." Y/n told him, the two kissing again, Tup holding his like a peice of glass under him.

"I love you." Tup whispered against her lips.

"I love you too Tup." She spoke back. Tup kissing her once more.

[sabraeal]

Climb to the Rooftops

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle; a birthday fic that is COMING OUT ON TIME would you look at that (though I am definitely doing some fancy footwork to make it work out in both time zones 😂 Yixin asked for the Post-Rescue Tanbarun Tree Scene for WFB, and then I said, I could give you that, but what if I told you about a secret scene instead...

And then Yixin told me to write whichever one was Obi POV

He knows her.

That’s what keeps running through his head’s hamster wheel as he clomps up the student center steps. He knows her; he’s always known her. If he reached out on that park bench, if he’d grabbed her with both hands and just said, don’t leave me--

He would have been laid flat on his ass, courtesy of that mean right hook her dad taught her before he bounced. And there’d be another demerit on his record to boot, one more instance of anti-social behavior to make him even more unadoptable than he already was. Doc was always destined to go to a loving home, complete with cozy hideaways and towers of books, with warm firesides and even warmer grandparents, and he...

Well, he wasn’t meant for anything like that, no matter who he clung to. Sometimes shit just happens, and no wishing on stars thirteen years gone can change that.

It’s good to see her though. He’d always wondered what happened to his muppet girl, whether she’d gone off and had her happy ending just like she said she would. And now he knows she did.

He glances down at the peanut butter canister in his hand. Well, at least for a little while. That’s the thing about happy endings; they don’t really stick.

Obi hesitates, one foot poised over a step up, his hand wrapped around a ruddy safety rail. “Um, Doc.”

It takes her three steps to bounce to a stop, just enough to let her look down instead of up or across. He’s got double vision for a moment: Doc in the here and now looking at him with so much hope and anxiety that he’s half-afraid she’ll shake apart like a Hot Wheel in a blender; superimposed over the little girl in his memory, round face beaming up at him and her worries far behind her.

She’s got more freckles now, though most of them are hidden beneath her coat, fading without the direct application of summer sun. More inches too, though not as many as he’d given her in his head; for once he’d given more benefit of the doubt than nature could provide. And her hair-- well, that’s the same. Red. Fluffy. Muppety, too, if it’s the morning.

“Obi?”

He should really be paying attention to this conversation he fucking started, instead of just staring at her like a creep. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Oh.” She goes rosy under the freckles he can see, shifting the urn from her hands to her elbow. “I’m-- I’m fine. I’m glad that we could find--” one arm juts out, trying to encompass both them and the containers-- “everyone.”

“Yeah, I got you, but I meant...” He angles a pointed look over her shoulder. “Why are we going up?”

Doc’s jaw drops, and he sees it, the way panic crests right behind her eyes.

“Not that I’m suggesting we don’t.” He takes the next step slow, just enough to put them on equal standing. Except it doesn’t, it puts him a little above her; the beginning of really looking down. His heart flutters in the exact way it shouldn’t when he’s carrying human remains. “I’m just saying, if we’re going to carry geriatrics up a few flights, the elevator’s better for their hips.”

He expects her to laugh at that one, or maybe even roll her eyes, but instead Doc breaks out into a full-body Chihuahua tremble.

“Obi.” Her eyes are so big in her face they might swallow him whole. “We can’t take the elevator.”

“We...can’t?”

Her head jerks in the scarcest side-to-side. With one long, steeling breath, she informs him, “We’re going to do something a little illegal.”

His brows raise. “Illegal?”

The urn bobbles treacherously as her hands fly up between them. “Only a little!”

“You cashed in your favor with me,” he repeats slowly, savoring the thrill that zips through him with every syllable. “To do something illegal.”

Doc deflates with all the gravitas of a popped kiddie pool. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if that would be okay. Especially with, um...”

She’s far too polite to say, your presumed preexisting criminal record, Doc just hasn’t realized it yet. Not when she doesn’t know for sure whether it does exist or not. It’d be easy to help her along, but it’s kinda satisfying to watch her flounder, fishing for the pieces of him she does know.

“If it’s a problem,” she says finally, lifting her eyes to his. “You don’t have to--”

“The only problem is how hot that is, Doc.” He wraps a hand around the rail beside her, leaning in close enough that her eyes nearly cross watching him. “Are you gonna get into your old field hockey kit and punch a girl up there too?”

She blinks, heels clunking into the concrete rise. “I don’t think it would fit. The skirt would be too short, at least.”

Are you sure, he wants to say, stretching every last inch over her, but instead he rumbles, “Honey, you’re saying all the right things to me--”

“Hey.” A finger presses into his nose, hauling his words up short like a pileup. “No call list.”

“Ahh.” Her mouth twitches as he pulls back, rubbing at his nose. “Haah. You know I hate that.”

“Then stick to the list,” she informs him pleasantly. “Besides, are you really trying to flirt with a girl in front of her grandpa?”

“Well.” He holds up the tin, giving it an experimental shake. “You think they’d mind?”

There’s a quality to the silence in the stairwell that clues him in to the fact that he’s cocked up real good this time. First with the tomb joke, now asking if grandma might be watching from beyond the grave, objecting to his game. At least he knows he never had a chance; otherwise he’d have to go take his hopes out behind the woodshed--

“No,” she hums, confident. “They’d like you.”

It’s a good thing she doesn’t get it in her head to try the nose trick again; it’d push him right over. He can survive a lot, but four flights is pushing it. “Doc,” he huffs, scratching the bristle at the back of his head, “I don’t think--”

“Well...” She’s thoughtful when she puts her back to him, bouncing up the next couple of stairs. “Opa would. Oma would think you needed to be fattened up.”

He laughs, but even to his own ears it sounds busted up, wings broken. “Sounds like my kind of lady.”

“Ugh,” Doc sighs from one landing up. “She’d love that you said that.”

“That just makes her even more--”

“Don’t.”

RESTRICTED ACCESS, the doors says, bright red letters fading against the plastic sign. ALARM WILL SOUND.

Doc’s been bullish these last few flights, pushing a pace that makes him want to remind her he’s a hitter, not a runner, but now--

Now she shuffles on the stairs, daunted. “Do you think it will really...?”

Obi thinks this might be a private university, funded by mommy and daddy’s pockets to keep their babies safe, but alarms go off all the time. Unless this building has a rent-a-cop watching daytime TV down in the atrium right now, it could take hours for someone to answer the call, especially mid-afternoon on a Saturday.

“Who knows.” He’s not sure what she’s got up her sleeve that involves two dead people and a rooftop-- especially when even Doc is quick to admit it’s got at least a toe on the wrong side of legal-- but it probably won’t look good if they’re interrupted, even by the Diet Coke of the law enforcement vending machine. “Maybe you should plan to keep the fancy speeches to a minimum.”

“Eulogies.” Her thin fingers flex over ceramic, white where they press in. “You mean a eulogy.”

“Gesundheit.”

Doc turns her head, real slow, letting him soak in every drop of her disapproval. Well, that’s one pigtail successfully pulled.

With a breath so deep it makes her pea coat really earn the name, Doc nods. “Right. Okay. I think...”

Obi expects some dithering, some real soul-searching doubts being dragged out for airing right here in the stairwell. Doc likes that sort of thing, taking everything out of her head so she can fold it all up real nice again, but instead--

Instead she barrels across the landing, plowing right through the metal door, a whole stretch of gray winter sky stretching out before her. There’s one blink, two, and then-- well, the sign wasn’t kidding. The alarm does, in fact, sound.

He catches the door with a hand; it’s weighted, ready to swing right back into place and-- if he knows his doors-- lock right behind her. Not that it’d be a problem if he meant to stand around on the stairwell and act as look out; a role he’d be happy to play if that’s how Doc wanted this whole show to run. But right now she’s slumped at the ledge, every last ounce of her usual moxie wrung out.

Maybe she might tell him to stand back, that this is something she��s got to take on alone, but Obi knows every aching line of that pose by heart. A car can keep going for fifty miles once it hits empty, but that just means you’ll never know when the tank runs dry. That’s where she is right now, stalling out at her limit.

And that’s what he’s here for, to push her that last inch over the finish line. Besides, he can’t just stand back, not when he’s grandpa’s ride.

“So.” There’s a shim in a corner-- a naughty thing to have around an emergency door like this, but Obi’s not about to tattle. He’s perfectly happy to wedge someone else’s problem right where the paint’s flaked off the door. “What’s the problem?”

Doc blinks, one hand trembling on grandma’s lid. “W-what?”

He settles grandpa on the ledge, arms folded around him, taking in the sprawl of buildings below. Clarines isn’t as big as one of those state universities, but it makes Tanbarun look like a college playset instead of a campus. Both of them have those stuffy brick and marble buildings they like up here, the kind that say academic and too good for you loud and clear, but whereas Obi’s walked across Clarines for thirty minutes and still never hit the edge, it looks like he could lap this place in twenty. No wonder Doc was miserable here; the real mystery is how she managed an entire year in this fancy rat cage.

“There’s got to be one.” He knows better than to look at her; if he’s going to make her talking about feelings, the least he can do is give her the privacy to have them. “You were all gung-ho a minute ago, ready to do your thing even if you had to punch out a cop to do it--”

“--I didn’t say that,” she murmurs--

“--but now you’re just standing here.” He shrugs, chancing a glance from the corner of his eyes. “Looking lost.”

“I just...” She shifts, head twisting toward him, he doesn’t need to meet her gaze to know it’s wild, desperate. “It doesn’t feel right that they don’t go together.”

It’s his turn to stare now, lost. “O...kay.”

“What if...” Her teeth fold over her lip, worrying at places already worn. “What if I left them go, and they don’t find each other?”

“Ah...?” It seems like a bit of an oversight now, not asking what the plan is, but he ventures, “You mean...the ashes?”

Her mouth twists up, annoyance in every wrinkle. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“No, no, I’m just...” He glances down at the tin between his arms. “I’m just putting things together. There’s nothing wrong about how you feel, Doc. Not like anyone’s really written a book about how this works.”

She looks up at him, so guileless. “Of course they have, Obi. There’s a whole section in the bookstore for it. It’s just that they’re all written by charlatans and quacks.”

Whatever the conversational version of whiplash is, Obi’s experiencing it now. For a minute all he can do is stare, taking in the abject disapproval rumpling her face, and then he-- he--

He laughs. Because this is what he’s into. The sort of person who pumps the breaks and spins the conversation 360 without even a courtesy ‘buckle up.’

“Listen, I’ve been thinking...” He taps the top of the tin, the metallic ting drowned out by the blare of the siren. “What if we just...mixed them? Then when you release them--”

“--They’re already together.” Doc blinks up at him, eye shining like he’s her savior, the center of her world, the answer to her cosmic question--

The way she really shouldn’t, when she already belongs to someone a hundred times better than he’ll ever be. Not when she’d never mean to get his hopes up.

“Thank you, Obi,” she breathes, a smile dawning on her lips. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”

Like all his good ideas, it’s easier said than done. On the ground, it’d been breezy, the sort of gentle push he’d come to expect from New England right before it got its first good snow, but up here--

“Here, take this.” Obi shrugs off his jacket, hurriedly pushing it into Doc’s boneless hands, but it’s too late-- they’ve already lost a bit of grandma. “Hold it up.”

She stares down at it, thumbs rubbing over the leather in a way that makes his shoulders itch. “Hold...?”

He swings out one arm-- the one not holding a geriatric-- yanking it wide. “Like a wind screen. I don’t want to lose Oma’s pinky toe or something.”

Doc blinks, stretching the coat between her hands. “Pinky toe?”

“Wouldn’t that make you cranky in the afterlife?” he asks, shaking more of Oma loose in a lull. “Losing a toe? Or a finger. Like just the last knuckle. A bit of your nose.”

The leather starts to ripple as the wind spins back up, and Doc stomps a foot down on the end of it to keep it from smacking up into his face. He appreciates the effort; it’s hard enough trying to pour from a large container to a small one without his zipper clocking him over the eyebrow. “Would that really matter?”

He shrugs. “To some people, probably. I got plenty of nose to spare.”

Doc mouth curves shyly, hunching down to hide behind his coat. “I think it’s fine just as it is.”

“Haah.” It’d be nice if she could give him a heads up when she plans to make his heart pound like that. “Think you might be the first to think that.”

“I don’t know,” she hums, eyes electric with some mischievous spark in their depths. “Maybe I’m the first to say so, but you certainly weren’t getting any complaints a few nights ago--”

He huffs. “Drunk college girls aren’t exactly arbiters of taste, Doc.”

She fixes him with that steady stare of hers, the one that’s so earnest it makes his heart make a bid for freedom through his throat. “I think,” she says, each word weighed before she lets it free, just like a good scientist, “that they did just fine.”

He smothers a whimper into a sigh. “Maybe your grandparents don’t mind me flirting,” he mutters, hunched over that stupid peanut butter tin, “but I’m sure they wouldn’t like you returning the favor.”

She blinks, head cocked. “Did you say something Obi?”

“No,” he says, just a little louder. “Just talking to myself.”

“You know--” he sets down the urn, wiping the sweat off his forehead-- “this would have been a lot easier going the other way.”

“We can’t.” Doc’s mouth twists up into that troublesome knot. “Opa always said he never wanted to be in one of those big fancy vases. And even if he would never know, I...”

Obi sighs, hanging his head. “Yeah, I know, I get it, just...complaining to complain. You know how it is.”

She stares down at him like he’s a fish on a dock telling her about the dangers of air. He shakes his head, stifling a laugh. Of course Doc wouldn’t get it; she could lose a limb and she’d still be thankful for the other three. Probably point out how much better things were now that she didn’t need to keep track of all of them. He might complain like it was as easy as breathing, but Doc-- Doc would take every last uncharitable thought to the grave.

Haah, give her some time. A few more months around him, and she’d discover some things to complain about. People always did.

“So,” he says, picking grandma back up. “Why here?”

Doc blinks. “Huh?”

“You know, on top of the roof of the campus center at one of the prestigious universities on the East Coast?” He raises a brow. “I know you used to go here, but most people just settle for leaving dog shit on the stoop when they want to send a ‘fuck you,’ you know.”

Doc unleashes a sound that can only be termed a squawk. “What? What do you mean most people--?” She shakes her head. “No, I don’t-- I mean, it’s not supposed to be a, um...”

“Fuck you?”

“Ah...yes. That.” She grimaces. “They met here. And when I tried to think of places they might want to be...”

Her words drift to a stop, but it’s gentle. They don’t abandon her, leaving her high and dry, but she just...stops saying them, letting the wind carry them away.

“I couldn’t think of any place else,” she admits, fingers tightening in the leather. “They always talked about Tanbarun so fondly, and I...I always thought it sounded like paradise.”

“But the roof?” Obi asks, incredulous. “Is it just easier to scatter the ashes, or...?”

“It’s where they met,” she repeats, like that makes any sense at all. “They used to have movie nights up here, played on one of those reel projectors,”

Her gaze swings out over the concrete like she could see it; all the hippy bean bags piled up, big screen pulled down and movie hardly able to be heard over the wind. Not a bad picture, he’ll admit. Wholesome, just like he’d expect out of the people who raised this Precious Moments doll of a person. Doesn’t really explain Mukaze, but well, shit happens. Half the people who raised him don’t deserve the person he’s become either. “Nice story.”

She’s hardly here with him, eyes hazy and distant, stuck in a past only she can see. “That’s what I always thought. I always wanted...” Her voice trails off again, but this time her smile falters, topping like china from a wobbling shelf. “I always wanted to have a story like that too. But it, um, didn’t really work out that way.”

He shouldn’t say anything. He’s not some neutral party, here to give her that impartial, unbiased pick-me-up she wants to hear, like telling her won’t rips a strip right off his back, so-- he should keep his big mouth shut.

But he’s never been good at any of that being smart shit. “It’s not like you didn’t have your own meet cute, it just wasn’t here. It was, er...”

Huh, now would you look at that. He’s never actually asked.

“At a record store,” she supplies slowly, like she has to think on it too. “Between the aisles after I missed my bus. No--” she laughs, more bitter than he’s ever heard her-- “after I chose to miss it.”

“See?” he hums, vibrating the knife deeper. “That’s already a good start.”

Her lips press thin. “I suppose...”

“No supposing about it.” He taps grandpa so the ashes sit flat before he starts another pour. “If I know anything about your Oma and your Opa-- and I don’t know nothing besides what you told me--” and what he saw a decade ago, sitting on that park bench-- “I don’t think they care whether you met your person at a rooftop movie or in a Walmart--”

“Record store.”

“They have CDs too,” he informs her, just as prim as Doc gets with him when she indulged the one pedantic bone in her body. “But the point is, they wouldn’t care where it happened, they just wanted you to find what they had.”

“I...” She deflates, the leather bowing over her legs. “I know. I think they used to worry that I wouldn’t, especially since I wasn’t really, ah...”

“Looking for it?” he offers.

She nods, relieved. “Yes, that. After my parents, I think they expected a much more, um, active interest in...anything. And I wasn’t.”

He doesn’t need to hear her say it to know that there’s more to it than that, that what she means to say is, and I don’t think they understood.

“Well, nothing for them to worry about anymore, is there?” She blinks up at him, alarmed, and he adds, “You and chief are kind of a done deal right?”

“Ah!” It’s hard to tell with the wind slapping both their cheeks red, but he could swear Doc’s blushing. “I don’t-- it’s not-- we haven’t really talked about--” she heaves a heavy, resigned sigh-- “I mean, I...I guess?”

“As done as it can be without getting PR involved.” He gives her the sort of eyebrow Kiki might. “I’m sure that if they’re out there floating on clouds or whatever, or, i don’t know, free energy in the universe, molecules just bumping around...they’re happy for you.”

“Right.” Her reply’s so faint he nearly misses it, but the wind that snatches it away carries it right by his ear. “Yeah.”

“All right, I think I’ve done as much as I can do.” Obi levers himself to his feet, brushing off his lap before handing her the tin. “You ready for this?”

Doc stares down at the canister, jaw set, the same way he’s sure it looked right before she threw herself out a window. Certainly looks the same way it did when she tried to bean Itoya with her purse.

“Yeah,” she breathes, fingers tightening around the metal. “I think I am.”

The wall’s not tall, but neither is Doc; she has to go up on tip-toe to throw an arm over it, the wind already pulling at the ashes laying loose at the top. Her brow furrows, mouth working for a good minute before she manages, “It’s time to say goodbye, I think.”

Obi stares. Sure, he’d said to keep it short and sweet, but if it’s taken this long for the rent-a-cop to hustle up, maybe she can spare the people who raised her more than--

“Thank you.” He’d thought it might be hard to hear her over both the alarm and the wind, but somehow all her words fly true, brightening the air. “For...everything. I don’t really know how you...”

Her breath catches, but her eyes are clear, no tears streaking down her face. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You did everything and more. But I think...” She sniffs, taking a moment. “I think I can take it from here. I’ll miss you, Oma. And Opa...”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I forgive you. For whatever still needs forgiving. Rest well.”

Her hand tips, just the barest degree, and the ashes scatter, wind whipping them past, twisting high over the quad.

“Hey.” Obi steps up beside her, shrugging his coat on over his shoulders. If it’s a little gritty-- well, good thing Doc thing thinks Oma would like him so much, because part of her might linger until the next wash. “I’m pretty sure it’s super illegal to scatter human remains like this.”

“Oh,” Doc hums, shoulder bushing his arm. “It absolutely is without a permit. I was not joking about the slightly illegal thing.”

Obi grins. “Well good thing that no one ever came to check on the--”

As if summoned by the mere mention of potentially having something approaching good luck, the door bar rattles, accompanied by some creative cursing.

“Who the fuck is leaving this open?” A gruff yet feminine voice demands, as if she might be able to shake down the universe and pick up the answers from what fell out of its pockets if she just rattled it hard enough. “Bill, is it you? God, what did I say about using the roof for your smoke breaks--?”

The door swings all the way open, and there she is, a security guard with shoulders that could have dropped straight from the Lowen family tree. Obi would take a picture if he wasn’t sure that would get him thrown in the campus drunk tank.

She takes one glance at them, then another angrier one. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“UM,” Doc shrills informatively.

“No, wait.” One broad hand waves in front of her. “I don’t care. What are you doing up here?”

Doc flounders in the face of authoritarian disappointment-- which is fine by Obi. This is his wheelhouse, after all. It’s nothing to reach out, cinching Doc’s waist against him, grin wide. “Sex, obviously.”

If it were possible for a body to choose the time and place of its expiration from this earthly dairy aisle, Doc’s mortified stare suggests she might curdle on the spot. “Obi.”

The guard’s glare is a study in skepticism, taking in the both of them, and then the concrete wasteland around them. “Here? With your clothes on?”

“It’s our kink.”

“Please,” Doc mutters against his shirt. “Don’t talk.”

The guard spares them one last weary look and sighs. “You know what? I don’t care. Just get out.”

Doc certainly doesn’t need to be told twice. Obi’s got his mouth open, what can’t you let us finish first about to spill right out, but her small hand clamps around his, and she drags him right off the roof.

“SORRY,” she yelps as they pass. “WON’T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.”

“Yeah,” Obi agrees with a grin. “Next time we’ll fuck on some other roo--”

Doc pauses for one moment, just long enough to raise a finger and inform him “DON’T.”

This time he lets her drag him off, grinning.

They’re halfway down the stairs when Doc finally slows, her cheeks reaching a shade of red that looks more lipstick than lobster dinner. Her hand wraps tight around the rail, and it’s not until he saunters down the last couple steps to stand beside her that he realizes-- her eyes are screw tight, breath coming in ragged bursts.

“Hey,” he murmurs, trying to ignore the spark of alarm zipping under his skin. “Did you just realize we could have used the elevator?”

Her fingers, already wrapped tight around his palm, squeeze. “Obi...”

The muscles in his arm lock, the way he’s sure lizard tails do, right before they drop them off and run. “Doc?”

Her head turns toward him, and when her eyes flutter open, they’re bright, clear. “Thanks. For being there.”

“No. No, no,” he murmurs, his fingers spasming against hers. “You’ve got it all wrong. I should be the one thank you for letting me. No one...”

No one has ever asked me to be there, he doesn’t say. No one but you.

It’s too much when she’s looking at him like this, like he’s not just a stand-in but her first choice. Like there’s more to how he feels than some one-sided over-investment. It brings him so close to feeling like someone, like the kind of guy who might be her person--

And maybe he could have been, if he hadn’t let some asshole rip her right out her arms in the middle of the night. If he had a record of being something other than a professional disappointment.

The grin doesn’t sit right on his face when he says, “No one’s ever asked me to get rid of a dead body before.”

Doc blinks, then rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she sighs, tugging his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Back to the hotel?”

“Well,” she wheedles. “That. And I dropped the tin when the guard surprised us...”

“Ah I see.” He slips his hand from hers, grin finally sitting the way it should. “So we’re adding evidence removal and obstruction of justice to our list of crimes.”

She tips a dubious look back at him. “Are you complaining?”

“Doc,” he breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “I would never. I’m touched that you would even think that I could--”

“Come on, Obi,” she laughs, hopping down the steps in front of him. “I’d like to do this sometime today.”

His mouth curls as he watches her back. “Your wish is my command.”

[wizarddank]

I posted 661 times in 2021

39 posts created (6%)

622 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 15.9 posts.

I added 400 tags in 2021

#dinluke - 126 posts

#the mandalorian - 60 posts

#din djarin - 54 posts

#luke skywalker - 44 posts

#boba fett - 32 posts

#grogu - 28 posts

#star wars - 17 posts

#clan of two - 17 posts

#bobadin - 12 posts

#obi-wan kenobi - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#r2 starts playing this crusty old holo and like a minute in totally ripped luke walks into frame for like three seconds all sweaty and dirty

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Purely self-indulgent AU where no one dies and Chirrut officiates Luke and Din's wedding and decades later Luke officiates Finn and Poe's.

189 notes • Posted 2021-04-09 18:44:15 GMT

#4

Shout out to anyone who has ever made AU dinluke fanart or fic where everything is just a perfectly normal Earth 2021 situation except Din still has a small green alien baby named Grogu and no one questions it or tries to explain it.

373 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 06:59:46 GMT

#3

TBOBF Episode where Boba has to be at an important luncheon with an illegal mining mogul on one planet and at the wedding of the daughter of a ruthless crimelord and potential ally on another planet in the same day so they pay Din to paint his armor green and go to the one with the least chance of someone figuring out he's not actually Boba Fett.

540 notes • Posted 2021-11-04 02:34:09 GMT

#2

Din: I'm just saying, you two have more in common than you think.

Boba: Pfft...

Luke: Yeah right. Like what?

Din: Well, you're both legends on Tatooine.

Luke: Debatable.

Din: You both have /major/ Daddy Issues.

Boba: Watch it, Mando...

Din: You're both heavily scarred from incidents NO ONE ELSE could have possibly survived.

Luke, adjusting his sleeves and collar: I don't know what you're talking about...

Din: AND you both have twin sisters who could kick your ass.

Boba and Luke: He doesn't have a twin sis--

Boba and Luke: ...

Din: Yep.

691 notes • Posted 2021-06-27 17:12:13 GMT

#1

You know in the og trilogy how Han gets jealous because he thinks Leia is in love-love with Luke before he finds out they're just twins?

Dinluke hc where Luke meets Korkie Kryze through Din and Bo-Katan, and he is just flabbergasted because LOOK at this guy! He is the spitting image of what Luke has seen of Obi-Wan in some old holos and he is SHOOK. Can't stop staring, just.. Wow much Obi, very love-child.

But he can't tell Din because well, it's just not his place to start this unprovable rumor that could upend this poor dude's life. So all Din sees is Luke unable to take his eyes off this other Mandalorian dude, tripping over his words and stuff, and he doesn't want to be jealous because it's an ugly emotion and one he doesn't feel often, but damn if he isn't feeling it now.

And eventually something happens where Korkie comes back from some kind of dangerous whatever and Luke gives him a big hug because that's just the kind of person he is.

Later Din is like "listen, I just want you to know that I'm ... fine with the whole Mandalorian and Jedi thing, I think it would actually be really good for our people to try and heal these old wounds."

Luke ofc only has feelings for Din and just automatically assumes this is his weird way of telling him he likes him and is like, "yes, I couldn't agree more, I just didn't know how to tell you."

Din: "I think you and Korkie will be... very happy together."

Luke: "...WHAT."

701 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 16:05:55 GMT

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