#obi wan kenobi x reader x commander cody

[meshla-cyarika]

Can I be honest for a second and say that one of my biggest fanfiction pet peeves is when someone will write their character or the reader insert as someone who should in theory be really badass (for example a Jedi or a Mandalorian, or an Avenger, or a soldier/fighter in general) and then make them really weak and basically not be able to handle themselves at all? Like come on realistically these mfs should be able to kill someone. Maybe this is just me being a girl who isn't girly, but I just want a character like this who can actually defend themselves and doesn't cry and need to be picked up by their s/o all the time.

[blxkstar]

For the Republic!!!

I made a playlist for fighting in the Clone Wars. Whether you're a clone brother fighting to the end, a jedi general, padawan commander, or a technician of some kind, the Republic needs you! Please check it out!!!

Brothers in arms are brothers for life

When surrounded by war, one must eventually choose a side.

[kometqh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33

[faithwalkcreationscloneart]

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I have an Etsy shop with prints and calendars of my clone artfor sale. https://www.etsy.com/shop/FaithwalkCreationsCo

On Facebook you can find me at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564620144107

[janesinner]

STAR WARS One shots X GN! Reader Christmas special

How would everyone react by you giving them a christmas gift

Galactic Empire : HERE

First Order : HERE

Galactic Republic : You're here

JEDI :

Anakin Skywalker:

He would be surprised when you walked up to him with a gift.

Tho at first he would act he doesn't want it, but inside he's completely like a chird.

He loves your gift and cherish it

He doesn't bought you anything, but he'll take you for a life time ride with R2D2.

you enjoyed a good time together

Oby-wan Kenobi:

He guessed you'll buy him something for christmas but he didn't expected to actualy buy him the thing he wanted

You remember him talking about this thing and how he liked it but he never had time to buy it, because of the war

It was then your life mission to get it for him

Tho he's never the one to show attachments to anyone, how could he stand a chance to not smile at your adorabke expression?

He gave you a kiss on the cheek, and promised to show you a beautiful place in one of the planets he enjoys to have his peace.

Plo Koon :

Plo Koon absolutely loves his gift and gave you a pet on your head.

Guess what, he has a gift for you too! And it happened to be something you always wanted

You enjoyed the Holiday with him and his Wolf Pack.

you love his mans and they love you. Half of the clones ships you with him.

Quinlan Vos :

Vos never got a gift before, so he didn't understood what it was

Once you explained it to him, he was surprised

He loves his gift and call you silly for buying him anything

Anyone who tries to take the gift from him, will be met with unpleasant consequences

you didn't exactly celebrated the holiday but spending the day with someone you love is more then enough

CLONES :

Rex :

Rex never celebrated christmas before, so he was confused when you bought him a gift

once you explained the holiday to him, it immedietly become his favorite holiday

he spoils you with gifts he bought or get from different planets he fought at

He loves seeing you happy and will do anything for you to remain happy

Fives :

Once you bought him a gift, it's all over for you

He'll shower you with affection and gifts every day

"Why should I give you gifts only on Kismas when you deserve them every day?" "It's 'Christmas'." "That's what I said??"

He'll do everythin in his will power to make you happy. Constantly ask Echo, Jess, Rex and Tup for tips of what to boy you.

All of them are annoyed at this point but doesn't show it cuz they want their brother to be happy

Cody :

"Getting gifts was not something I was breed for." You silenced him with a gifts and forced him to open his gift.

When he opened the gift, he was surprised.

he thanked you for his gift and apologized because he had nothing in return for you.

"Just spend this day with me. That would be just enough for me."

You two had a nice evening, cuddled together in a blanket with a hot chocolate in hands

Wolffe :

His mans were constantly annoying him to buy this for you.

He was hesitant if you'll like it or not, but at the end, he settled for this Item comet suggested. he personally liked it, but the question was, will you too?

Everyone were shocked when you both opened the gifts and realised it was completely the same thing.

Everyone laughed and you kissed him on his forehead, while he blushed in embarrassment,

"We know each other perhaps too well, Wolfy~."

He hates when you call him like that. Call him 'Wolfy' when you two are alone

Gregor :

He always loved spending holiday with you.

everyday, he would wake up firts and bring you a breakfast and a gift for you.

You smiled warmly at him and kissed him.

He never cared what you'll buy for him, he'll cherrish them all.

On Christmas, he would always spend time with you

Howzer :

He loves your gift.

Ryloth is a beautiful planet and he makes sure to show you the most beautiful plaves while you ride on a Blurrg.

You never cared about his gifts.

When he took one whole day off for you, that is the best present for you.

Hunter :

He was surprised when you brough him the gift adn asked what to do with it.

You chuckled and explained to him that it's Christmas. A day where everyone gives a gift to their beloved ones

He felt embarrassed and planted a kiss on your forehead as a thanks.

He strugled for a very long time what to buy you and asked Tech for a help.

in the end, he invited you out on a date, and enjoyed the rest of the day together.

Wrecker :

" FREE GIFTS! OH YEEAAH!" He loves his gift.

he didn't even opened and he loves it already, as he picked you up, his hands tightly wrapped around your hips as he lifted you up in the air adn spinned you around like crazy.

He brought you a lot of gifts, you didn't even had time to unwrap them all before he tucked you down and held you hostage in a bed.

Crosshair :

He pretends he's annoyed by the gift, but he secretly loves it,

Anyone who tired to take the gift for him, got hurt.

He's very grumpy when you wanted to got for a walk with him, but he enjoyes beeing with you, and loves to see your happy face.

You two end up in a festival where he shot many plushies for you.

Tech :

He heard about Christmas but never celebrated it, as he never had time.

But once you brough him a gift, it was one of the rare times you saw him smile

he loves his gifts adn thanked you, while he gave you a gift in return.

it was one of his small devices he made, and it was totaly adorable!

you spend the times together in engine room.

Echo :

He remembers how Fives was talking about Holidays, especialy Christmas. it was their favorite holiday they wished to celebrate one day together.

When you brough him a gift, it was very emocional for him and he broke down crying,

You comforted him for hours and he apologized multiple times.

Once he explained everything to him, you smiled gently at him and kissed his cheek.

"If you want, we cen go to a market and buy something for Fives too."

He loves how caring you are, he ask everyday himself what he did to deserve someone as you.

You two spended enjoying the holiday in a nice place, with a third gift for Fives.

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n:

not requested

“Well, Cody, Master Yoda has finally assigned me a new padawan. I almost thought he’d forgotten.” Obi-Wan joked as you stood beside him with a kind smile. “And he did not disappoint.”

“Sure didn’t, General.” Cody replied, removing his helmet. “I’m Commander Cody, good meeting you.”

“Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You gonna have my back out there, kid?” Cody tilted his head up slightly and smirked.

“You know it.” You looked up at him and smiled, noticing his fist reaching out. You put your own out and bumped over and under, then looked over to your new master.

“I think you’ll be a great addition to our battalion. That is—if you can follow orders. My last padawan was not much of a listener.” Obi-Wan told the two of you, who both laughed.

“So I’ve heard.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 // @pheonixfire777 //

[floffytofu]

Reader : stop doing that

Anakin : doing what?

Reader : you making kissy face

Anakin : kissy what?

Reader : the disgusting face when you see padme like you want to kiss her or something, you both just like master and cody. eww

Anakin : hey i'm not─ wait... MASTER DID WHAT?!!

[thegreymarveljedi]

You’ve Got a Nice Ass

(Obi-wan x Reader)

This is a funny little story I found in my drafts from another fandom and thought, why the hell not. Obi-wan is hot and I like him so sue me (please don’t I’m broke).

This is something just really fun and kinda flirty so I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: playful teasing, clones being funny, a little bit of hurt/comfort, reader is slightly insecure, obi-wan being a teddy bear, love confessions, friends to lovers, ass slapping (very mild), fluffff

Words: 3.5K

—————

I was sitting in the mess hall of the Resolute with my tray of food, a book in hand while soldiers came in and out of the mess. Most were sat at tables talking and joking with one another as they always did which always put a smile on my face. Obi-wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody and Ahsoka were sat with me at a table speaking amongst themselves before a certain conversation seemed to catch all our attention.

"I'm saying master Yoda could totally kick general Windu’s ass in a fight!" Waxer argued, his voice carrying from where he sat at the table next to us.

"Are you kidding? General Windu would woup Master Yoda’s ass," Boil defended, argued back, a few of the 212th and 501st boys taking sides and placing bets on who they think would win.

“I’m with Waxer, my credits are on Master Yoda.”

“Well then you’re wrong Vod cause I think General Windu would win.”

“How am I wrong when that’s your opinion Hardacse?”

“Because Boil is right and therefore that makes me right too cause I agree with him.”

“That’s not how that works you di’kut!”

"Alright men. I think this argument as well as this bet have gone a little too far already,” Obi-wan chimed in over the sounds of the boys yapping at each other. He was so calm and level head but still kept a smile on his face which made me swoon slightly. He carried such a power with him and that made even most compose of people squirm. I loved it when Obi-wan was like this. He was serious like a warrior at times but at others he was a cute, cuddly and fluffy teddy bear that you just wanted to squeeze.

At the sound of their general’s the boys immediately quieted down, looking to Obi-was with a sincerity apology as they went back to eating their food and conversing about a different topic.

I had liked Obi-wan for a long time now, being Anakin’s older sister, I went with him when Master Qui-gon found Anakin. I had stuck by my brother as well as Obi-wan when the council had refused to train us. I was there when master Yoda changed his mind and I was there when Anakin and I were officially made padawans.

I’ve stuck by them both since the beginning, helping Obi-wan to understand how to teach Anakin and well as how to navigate things with two of us. I tried my best to make his life easy and I like to think that it has worked well. Ever since becoming a knight around the age of 24, I’ve always hoped that Obi-wan would see me in a different light, even if I used to be his student. I’ve been by his side through everything and I would always admire from afar because deep down, I knew I would never have a chance with someone as amazing as him. He followed the code to a T and would break it especially for someone like me.

"Yes sir, sorry general," Boil said apologetically, turning back to his tray of food as snickers could be heard around them.

"Let's just say that they could both kick some major butt,” Waxer said and his brother smiled at him as they gave a highfive, a few of the other boys asking for their credits back now that the bets were off.

However, Waxer and Boil refused, saying that those credits were bet fair and square in a legitimate bet. There were more groans of protest and more arguing before food was thrown in Boils face, the 212th trooper looking shocked as all eyes turned to Fives.

“Oh god, here we go,” Rex said as he face palmed, glaring daggers at Fives who had a triumphant look on his face before it was wiped away as he was tackled to the ground.

"Well-" Obi-wan said as he stood up from the table and stretched, his muscles flexing and making my mouth water from behind my book, "-I'm gonna go the training room for a bit." I watched him walk toward the door and out, turning down the left hallway towards the training rooms, my eyes following until the door closed behind him.

“Fives! Enough, you di’kut!”

“Give me back my money!”

“It was better fair and square!”

“Was not! General Kenobi called the bet therefore it is void.”

“You just don’t want to loose.”

“Enough!”

I let out a sigh and slumped into my seat, my book falling from my hand as I silently watched Rex and Cody break up the brawl that was currently happening.

"You ok (Y/N/N)?" Anakin asked as he and Ahsoka finished snickering at the clones and their fighting.

"Ya just.....thinking," I said and tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling. My mind was swirling with thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking, feelings that were against the Jedi code. I sighed again as I leaned my head down and rested it against the table, my try of food long finished and pushed to the side.

"About Obi-wan?" Anakin sing-songed. He was the only one who knew about my crush on Obi-wan besides Padme because she was my other best friend and sister-in-law. I could never hide anything from her.

"W-what!? N-no!" I said defensively.

"Ok then suit yourself," he said and continued to watch Cody and Rex scold their men as if they were children.

Ahsoka turned to me with a small smile and took my hand, knowing that Anakin could be a little too teasing when it came to certain things. She was a good fit as his padawan, keeping him in line and grounded when Padme or I couldn’t.

“I’ve heard master Kenobi say things about you too you know,” she said and winked, peeking over as Rex escorted, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase out the door, Cody doing the same with Waxer, Boil and Longshot.

“Like what?” I said wearily but curiously, my emotions getting the best of me. I wanted to know because deep down I thought that maybe, just maybe, I had a shot.

“I’ve heard him talk about how determined you are and how kind you are. I’ve heard him talk about how much he admires your courage and bravery,” Ahsoka sat and wiggled her eyes, her markings moving with her eyes.

“I’ve heard things too you know,” Anakin chimed in, his full attention now back on the conversation that Ahsoka and I were having. I blushed and hid my face behind my hand, this kind of topic not one I was used to talking about in such an open space where anyone could be listening.

That was the moment that Rex and Cody came back to the mess hall, coming to sit back down at our table.

“What have you heard?” I said quizzically, trying my hardest not to show my emotions on my face, but Anakin could read me like book.

“That he liked you baaackk,” Anakin said in a singsong voice again. I reached over and smacked him somewhat playfully, it wanting him to say it out loud.

“Oh are we talking about General Kenobi’s giant crush on you?” Cody said and smirked at me, going back to eating his food as if he hadn’t just said something that big. My face went redder than the Tatooine suns at night, my body wanting nothing more than to sink down under the table and disappear.

“Yes we are,” Anakin said triumphantly, looking at me with a shit eating grin.

“Oh it’s bad. He talk as about you all the time general. Even when he thinks no one is around, he talks about how amazing you are and I can hear him scolding himself about having those thoughts. And then the next second he talking to me about how he can’t help it,” Cody spilled, seemingly feeling no shame for airing Obi-wan’s feelings.

"Really?" I asked dumbfounded, looking between Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody and even Rex who was nodding his head along with Cody.

"Yes really. You should go talk to him and tell him how you feel. I promise you he feels the same,” Cody said with a smirk, one that made me question if they were bullshitting me. I took a moment to process all that they had said, looking at the faces around the table. Ahsoka was the one to do it for me, he smile genuine and eyes shining with nothing but truth.

I smiled at her and thanked the group, standing up and taking my tray to the cleaning station before making my way out of the mess, my mission? Tell Obi-wan how I feel.

~Time Skip~

I made my way to the training room, thinking of how I could tell Obi-wan my feelings without making things awkward. I was still weary of everything the others had said, especially Cody. I wanted to believe them but what if they were secretly wrong? What if he was still in love with Satine or if he was sticking by code and willing to report me to the Jedi high council for having such feelings.

My heart sank as I thought about it, uncertainty swimming in my heart as I played the different scenarios over and over again in my head. I stopped in my tracks as I reached the training room, my resolve crumbling and my heart beginning to break.

What if he doesn’t love me the way I love him? What if this is all a joke and I’m being made a fool of?

My mind began to race a million miles a minute, so many things happening internally that I also chickened out. It took me a few moment to calm my mind, making it up just to get it over with and if Obi-wan didn’t feel the same, I would find a way to live that. I would find a way to be okay.

When I got to the sliding doors of the training room, I found them already open, the locking mechanism initiated so that they stayed opened. Obi-wan was stood there, a blind fold over his eyes and his top layer of robes discarded, his under shirt and training pants all that he was wearing. Even through the undershirt, his back muscles were very defined and detailed, his body looking as if it had been sculpted with delicate hands.

His training pants left a little less to the imagination, the material tight against his body but stretchy enough that it moved with him. His legs were very muscular, years of training and hard labour giving him very powerful looking legs. But what what drew my attention most, as weird as it is to say, was his ass. The material of his training pants left little for me to imagine, the globes of his ass looking very defined and round, ass plump and bouncing ever so slightly as he moved around the training mat.

'He's got a nice butt.' I thought to myself, keeping my distance as I watched him train with his saber.

I saw Obi-wan’s head whip around, the blindfold being lifted as he stared at me wide eyed and that's when I realized I said it out loud. My eyes filled with horror at the realization, my body rapidly filling with fear.

"W-what?" He asked bewildered, looking at me with slight embarrassment as he pulled the blindfold completely off his head.

I stood as straight as a board and turned right around, practically running out of the room while trying to control the blush on my face and the growing nose bleed I had. I could hear Obi-wan calling out to me but I ran as fast as I could to my quarters on the other side of the ship. I could feel tears welling in my eyes at the sheer unbridled embarrassment I felt, knowing that I had fucked up my chances royally.

~Time Skip~

After making it back to my quarters and cleaning up my bloody nose, I fell onto my bed, letting my face hit my pillow. I screamed into my pillow letting out all my embarrassment and emotions. Tears welled in my eyes again as I thought about just how much I had fucked up. The ridiculous idea to tell the man I love that I had a crush on him was just that, a ridiculous idea. Like a terribly made fairy tale where the girl doesn’t live happily ever after.

I sighed and flipped over onto my back, holding my pillow and string at the ceiling. I did my best to wipe my tears but more and more kept coming, my heart breaking with every passing moment.

"What was I thinking? Of course he doesn't like me like that. How fucking cliche to think he could see me as more than a colleague. How stupid to think they were telling the truth," I mumbled to myself, my palms digging into my eyes as I muttered to myself about how stupid I was.

"I don’t think that’s the kind of language you should be using when speaking about yourself my darling," I heard and bolted up, throwing my pillow full force towards the source voice. I heard a chuckle and looked up towards the door to see Obi-wan standing there, freshly showered and wearing actual clothes, my pillow hanging in midair.

"H-How long...." I got managed to get out before Obi-wan stepped fully into my room, placing the pillow gently on the end of my bed as the door slid closed. I moved myself backward to the head of my bed, wanting to put as much distance between myself and Obi-wan as I could.

"Long enough to hear you call yourself cliche and other words that I don’t think are representative of you in the slightest," He said, sitting on the edge of my bed. Ge picked up the pillow and used the force to slowly bring it back over to me, as if knowing I was terrified for this encounter. I took the pillow in my hands and rested it on my knees, bringing my knees up to me chest and burying my face in the pillow again.

"(Y/N), look at me," he said, moving closer and placing a hand on my knee. I turned just enough out of my pillow so he could see my left eye, bloodshot and tears still seeming to gather in my waterline.

"I'm not mad darling. And I don't think any less or different of you if that's what you're thinking," Obi-wan said and I turned my head a bit more to see his face better. He gave me one of his award winning smiles and I gave him a small smile back, still feeling the lingering embarrassment.

Obi-wan moved even closer to me, slowly and gently pulling the pillow from my arms. He placed it down next to me at the head of the bed before gently taking my hands in his. My eyes were still downcast, refusing to fully meet Obi-wan’s gaze even as he tried to look into my eyes.

“Darling look at me, please?” He said and lifted his fingers to tilt my chin up. I did so willingly, letting him use his thumb and pointer finger to lift my chin up. I looked into his eyes, trying to find any hint of discomfort or disappointment but there was nothing but understanding and what seemed to be…adoration?

He looked me in the eye before his eyes flickered to my lips, the movement quick but noticeable. I gulped down what air I could, my hands shaking with anxiety. He said nothing for another few moments, just looking at me with an adorable smile and keeping my head up and eyes on him.

“You’re very beautiful you know that right?” He spoke softly and I blinked, not expecting such praise to leave his lips. I blushed and tried to time my head away but Obi-wan kept a firm grip on my chin, his hold still gentle.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“But-“

“Say it,” he said, moving his hand from my chin to my cheek, hold it there and stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. My eyes remained glued to him, still not believing what he was saying to me or what he was asking me to do.

“(Y/N) say it.”

“I-I’m be-beautiful,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I spoke those words. I knew deep down that I was attractive, but speaking those words especially in front of Obi-wan after such an embarrassing moment felt wrong.

“Say it again.”

“I-I’m beautiful,” I spoke again, this time my voice a little louder but still slightly shaky.

“You’re extremely beautiful. You know I would never lie to you,” Obi-wan spoke again, his tone teasing only slightly. That got a laugh out me as I smiled, nuzzling into his hand and bringing mine up to hold his on my cheek. He smiled and leaned in to me slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. Instead, I leaned as well, matching his intentions as he kissed me softly and with so much love I could've melted.

My eyes closed and I leaned more into it, starting to feel more comfortable with what was happening. I smiled into the kiss before breaking away, making a bold move and wrapping my arms around Obi-wan’s neck. He laughed a hearty laugh and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me to him. The position was a little awkward for us but at that moment I didn’t really care, just content to be in his arms finally.

Obi-wan smiled and pulled me into his lap, winking at me before kissing my nose. I giggled and returned the kiss before burying my face in his neck again, just breathing in his natural scent of birch wood and earl grey tea. He did the same, cradling my head to his neck and rubbing his other hand up and down my back.

"I love you (Y/N). I have admired your determination and courage since I met you. Your loyalty to your brother and how eager you were to learn,” Obi-wan confessed, pulling away from our embrace ever so slightly and held my hips, gently massaging circles into them.

I smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, smiling as he chased my lips when I pulled away, “I love you too Obi. You’ve always been there for me through everything, even when you didn’t have to be," I said shyly. He lifted his hand and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, holding my cheek again once he did so.

“I will always be there for you my Dear, even if the council doesn’t approve. I will fight for you, for us,” he said lovingly and I smiled, tackling him to the bed and giving him a big hug. He laughed and held me as we almost rolled off the bed, moving to adjust us so we were lying down properly against the pillows.

We smiled at one another before he sat us up, helping me stand up and holding my hand as we walked to the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we made our way out into one of the halls of the Resolute.

"Well, now that you and I are an item, I must at least treat you to a miniature adventure before we can go on a real date,” He said and sent me a wink. I blushed and laughed before letting go of his hand and stopping.

He turned back to me with a look of confusion on his face before I laughed and ran up to him, giving his ass a good slap before I tried to run away. He yelped in surprise at the contact, reaching out and grabbing my waist before I could get away.

I laughed again as he spun me around, only stopping when we both began to get dizzy. I smiled as he turned me in his arms to face him, leaning down to place a soft kiss to my lips again. I smiled again and leaned into him, allowing our lips to move together in sync. When we pulled away, I gave his ass another little pat, smirking as he rolled his eyes at me.

"That is a nice ass," I said. He looked at me and smirked before rolling his eyes again and throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

We both laughed as he carried me through the halls of the ship, doing our best to avoid people with me still over his shoulder. I wasn't complaining though,

I had the perfect view of that gorgeous ass.

—————

I do think Obi-wan has a great ass, change my mind.

[meshla-cyarika]

just gonna leave this here

[ireadwithmyears]

the art of experience: part 2 the lesson

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody/fem reader

Previous | Next | Series Masterlist

Word count: 7K

Tags/warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, dom/sub dynamics, male masturbation, light humiliation, one singular spank, fingering, piv sex, orgasm delay/denial, that’s not how the force works/inappropriate use of the force, brief cockwarming, aftercare

Summary: Cody teaches you and Obi-Wan that punishment and pleasure can sometimes go hand-in-hand

Authors note:Well, I haven’t officially participated in Kinktober, but considering it’s almost over, and this series is just beginning, this feels like a pretty solid way to end it off. Also, a little Halloween treat for you all. I hope it’s a good one🎃

“Well?”

Cody’s voice holds a note of expectation. The single syllable is offered up as a question you know in reality is closer to a demand for an explanation, not that you really find yourself the slightest bit equipped to piece one together

Not when he’s reaching across to touch you. Not when his fingers are skating along the curve of your ass and effortlessly gliding between your folds. Not when they sweep through to collect the arousal that’s gathered there, causing you to whimper as they just barely graze over your clit, and definitely not when you turn your head to watch as he guides them between Obi-Wan’s lips, patiently watching as the other man’s eyes flutter closed and he sucks languidly on the two digits.

“What happened?” Cody’s voice is a nudge, prompting you again, and your cheeks flush, eyes darting down to watch your hands still clenched tightly within the sheets.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mumble, not knowing what else to say. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Hm.”

The noise is quiet, but filled with an underlying skepticism that makes your stomach churn. You’re still looking away, so you don’t see his hand retreat from Obi-Wan’s mouth. You don’t see the swift way in which it moves and pulls back, but you do feel when it lands—connecting against your ass in a quick, stinging spank.

You let out a surprised squeak, your eyes widening as you’re torn between indignation and enjoyment, finding strangely enough that you almost want for him to give you another.

Odd, you think. That’s definitely something to experiment with later.

“Was I asking for an apology, mesh’la?” he asks, taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up into stern, hardened, amber eyes.

“No,” you say slowly, biting your lip and swallowing hard. “But-but I still am, sir.”

“I’m sure you will be,” he muses, his voice seeming to lighten in tone which only ratchets up your nerves. “What are you sorry for, cyar’ika?” 

“F-for coming without your permission, sir,” you murmur, biting the inside of your cheek guiltily.

“Mm,” Cody hums in thought, and it takes all your control not to frustratedly point out that if Obi-Wan hadn’t been so determined—apparently to push you over the edge—then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. 

No, you scold yourself harshly. You don’t want to leave with one of their first impressions of you being that you act like a petulant child when things stop going your way. You’ve made your bed. You redirect your thoughts, trying to shake it off. Now put on your big-girl PJs and lie in it.

“Sit up.”

Cody’s voice is crisp, his look one of expectation as he looks down at you. “I want you on your knees.”

He’s left you with no room for hesitation, and you don’t want to leave him with any room to be further disappointed. So, despite your confusion at the swift redirect, you push yourself up on your elbows, tucking your knees beneath you and leaning back on your heels, looking up at him from the edge of the bed with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

“Sit straight,” he continues. “Hands behind your back.”

Silently you do as you’re told, still unsure but not having a reason to hesitate.

“It’s a shame,” Cody says conversationally. “I would have liked to have finished in your mouth. But I think you’ll have to show me that you’re deserving of that privilege.”

He reaches down, taking himself in hand. He’s still prominently hard, glistening from the efforts of your mouth. 

“This will have to do,” he says in a soft, disappointed sigh, his other hand lightly cupping one of your breasts before giving your nipple a soft tug, just enough to pinch, watching as it hardens between his fingers. A soft groan falls from his lips as he releases you, turning back to the attention of his firmly erect cock, his hand tightening around it as he strokes, movements quick and deliberate. His thumb occasionally sweeps over the tip, circling just enough to tease, causing his breath to stutter as his speed becomes more frantic.

Watching him work is mesmerizing, but you find—looking down with slight disappointment—that you wish it were your tongue and your mouth giving him what he craves instead. 

“Eyes up here, cyar’ika,” his voice is a slightly sharp command, and your eyes instinctively jump to look back up at him as he pumps himself, his movements growing vigorous and desperate.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans, his voice a quiet, pleased rumble. “Want to see the look on that pretty face when I come all over you.”

Seconds later, his wish is granted. His release coats your chest in a hot, white stream of liquid, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part in a gasp as it makes contact. He strokes himself through his orgasm, his breathing labored and his eyes unfocused with lust as they remain locked on you, the mesmerizing way in which you shudder as he paints your breasts with his release, watching as it slowly trickles down towards your belly button, your nipples peeking out pink and stiff as he takes in the sight.

“Beautiful,” he breathes once he’s recovered himself enough to speak. “You’re to leave that there,” he says, a casual order that says he expects nothing more than complete obedience. 

You blush, looking down at yourself with a slight mix of humiliation at how messy you look and feel, with his release becoming sticky and cooling as it clings to your skin, but also something else. Knowing that you’re what he chose to look at as he surrendered to his pleasure makes you feel wanted—sexy and desirable in a way that you have rarely felt before.

“Yes, sir,” you say in a quiet murmur, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself as you lightly shudder beneath his piercing gaze. It lingers for a moment before drifting, landing on Obi-Wan who’s been sitting quietly with his legs crossed behind you as he watches.

“Someone has been uncharacteristically patient,” Cody murmurs, his tone amused but also somewhat suspicious. 

Obi-Wan, who plays the part of the wise, patient Jedi Master so well all the time, is allowed to let go of that here and let pure instinct, desire, and want take over to manifest in whichever way feels natural to him in the moment. This patience that he’s displaying now, Cody can tell, is quite honest and sincere, though he’d be remiss not to suspect ulterior motives behind it.

“Trying to show off and act like a good boy for our guest, Obi-Wan?” Cody asks with a smirk, fingernails raking through the other man’s hair, lightly scratching against his scalp and feeling his head tilt, leaning into the touch in response.

“Quite possibly, sir,” he admits, barely stifling a smile as he looks up at Cody, his eyes mischievous but with pure underlying adoration beneath.

“Mm,” Cody considers, lightly taking his chin in his hand and tilting his head up for a quick peck against his lips. “At least he’s honest.”

“I was planning to have you on top,” Cody says moving back towards you, his hands softly coming to rest on your shoulders, “but I’d like to give your upper body a rest.” 

One of his hands drifts, lightly running through the remnants of his release that’s settled in between your breasts, and the expression on his face is sinful as he leans forward, pressing a teasing, barely there kiss to the corner of your mouth before giving you a gentle nudge, easing you down until you’re lying on your back. “Let’s put Obi-Wan to work for a bit, hm?” he asks, something soft playing on his lips as he looks between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t say no to that, sir,” you admit sheepishly, only realizing now that he’s guiding you to lie down that your shoulders and back are slightly stiff from where they’ve had to arch for a prolonged amount of time. His hands caress from your shoulders, slowly running down your arms as he gives your biceps a light squeeze, your eyes closing in response to the touch.

“Lift your hips for me, dearest,” Obi-Wan directs softly, and without thinking, without even opening your eyes with curiosity to watch what he’s doing, you do, and a second later feel a pillow slide beneath your raised hips, Obi-Wan’s hands gently coaxing them to settle back down on top.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and you let out a small, surprised noise as you feel his lips and the light, enticing scratch of his beard pressing against your hip, trailing along your stomach.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond with only a small hitch in your voice, but judging by the sound of his soft chuckle, feeling it rumble slightly against your skin, he’s evidently still noticed.

“This is still a punishment,” Cody reminds you, his voice chiding. “For both of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice how much you were pushing her to come, Obi-Wan.”

“I would never,” Obi-Wan protests, sounding both on the verge of laughter and indignantly scandalized even as he looks up and tries to maintain the perfectly innocent look on his face.

“Don’t add lying to your list of crimes,” Cody scolds, and for your part, you feel slightly vindicated, knowing that it wasn’t just in your head that Obi-Wan was deliberately pushing you.

That vindication is short-lived, especially after Cody‘s next words.

“Obi-Wan, you are allowed to come, but you,” Cody raises a sharp eyebrow at you, “are not.”

“How is that fair?” 

The complaint falls past your lips before you can even think about it, and you’re pushing yourself up on your elbows to pout at him. “You’re telling me that I’m the only one being punished for this even though you know that he participated in it?”

“I was wondering when I would get to see the brat in you.” 

To your annoyance, Cody sounds completely unfazed, even a tad bit triumphant, as he folds his arms across his chest. “I knew it was there, just hiding.”

He fixes you with a hard look, reaching out a hand to gently but firmly push you back down against the bed. 

“You don’t think this is a punishment for Obi-Wan, sweetheart?” he asks, and the look on his face tells you that the question was rhetorical. You bite your tongue to remain silent. “Well, let me tell you that Obi-Wan gets most of his enjoyment and pleasure from your enjoyment and pleasure.”

He leans forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his voice drops to a whisper. 

“Imagine how disappointing it’s going to feel for him when he gets to come, but is denied of being able to feel the way you tighten around him when you do, and the sounds you make because he’s making you come.”

You can’t help the way a small shiver runs through you, and your eyes instinctively widen. Well, when he puts it like that—and if what he’s saying is true, which you highly suspect it is just because of how intimately Cody is aware of his partner—it does sound like kind of a shitty deal, not that you’re ready to fully admit that, but you can except it.

“So, little one,” Cody‘s lips are at your throat, soft and gentle at first but quickly turning into a sharp bite at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Still think he’s not being punished?”

“N-no, sir,” you say with a quick shake of your head, your voice sounding suspiciously like a squeak as he pulls back to look down at you, his thumb brushing over the mark that’s blossoming at your throat.

“Good.” He gives you a smile that is so warm it feels like sunlight physically caressing your skin. “And if you’re a very good girl,” he continues, his voice a low, husky murmur. “I may,” he pauses, allowing you to sit in anticipation as his lips pull into a smirk, “let you come on my cock. Is that understood, cyar?”

You murmur a soft agreement and he nods, satisfied as he moves back to give you and Obi-Wan space. 

“May I?” he asks softly, fingers gently stroking over your thigh, watching with keen interest as you shudder in response.

“Please,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. His fingers delicately trace a teasing circle around your folds but Obi-Wan, easily tempted by the wet trail he finds there, quickly parts your labia, letting out a soft, pleased sound as his fingers dip to gather your arousal, spreading it over you in teasing brushes until he’s satisfied.

He exhales a soft “oh” as a finger carefully breaches your entrance, his eyes intent as he watches it slowly push past the resistance it meets. “Still so tight,” he whispers, leaning forward to brush his tongue along the crease of your thigh just to watch you shiver and feel your walls clamp down around his finger in response.

“Not that I mind,” he continues, his lips quirked upward. “If I had it my way, I'd make you come on my fingers at least one more time.”

“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t been such a tease, m-maybe you would have gotten your way,” you snark, not truly bothered but enjoying the banter as you desperately try to buck your hips against his hand, seeking more than what he’s giving you.

“Oh my, someone is impatient,” Obi-Wan smirks. “Perhaps if you had exercised a little bit more control, you would have been able to handle it.”

He cuts off any remark you could have said in response to that by easing a second finger into you, his thumb curling slightly to tease your clit as he slowly stretches you out, making the only sound to fall from your lips a quiet moan.

“Do I need to find something more useful for both of your mouths to be doing?”

You both startle at the unimpressed tone in Cody‘s voice as he’s suddenly looming above you, one hand tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair and giving it a sharp tug in warning, his eyes displeased as he looks down at you.

“No, sir,” you rush to say, your cheeks heating.

“I’d be interested to see how you would accomplish that,” Obi-Wan muses curiously, fingers still diligently working you open for him as he looks up at the commander. “Considering the position we’re in.”

“Don’t push it,” Cody mutters darkly, leaning forward to nuzzle against Obi-Wan’s neck with lips and teeth, causing him to shudder. “You of all people should know how creative I can be.”

Cody steps back, sinking into an armchair that sits across from the bed as he casually spreads his legs, simply watching with interest. 

“Now get to it,” he orders, giving both of you a pointed look, “before I decide that neither of you deserve anything tonight.”

The “yes, sir,” he gets in response to that is both immediate and in unison, and he has to fight to keep his lips from turning upward into a wolfish grin as Obi-Wan settles between your legs.

“Reach down and take him in your hand,” Cody directs you as he observes, his hand resting on his thigh. “Good. Now, use him to tease your clit.”

You guide the head of his cock between your folds, slowly circling the firm, glistening tip around your clit. When you look up at him, Obi-Wan’s eyes are closed, his head tipped back as his lips part in a quiet, stammered breath. You wonder if this, both pleasure and denial at the same time is as tortuous for him as it is for you. You let out a soft “mm,” and Cody speaks again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Is it your imagination, or has his voice dropped an octave? Either way, it makes you shudder, and his next words cause it to catch completely. “Now, use his cock to give it a few spanks for being such a naughty girl earlier.”

Your eyes go wide, and there’s a beat of hesitation as you feverishly work to process what he’s just said. Your cheeks are already on fire, and you wonder if he’s enjoying this. No, you know that he is, and one glance at him out of the corner of your eye shows you that your 

embarrassment might just be precisely why he’s enjoying it.

Then, just when he looks on the verge of getting to his feet, you blink, and rush to do as he says. You move your wrist so that Obi-Wan’s cock slaps against your clit in several quick, sharp spanks.

The result is instantaneous. 

The whimper that falls from your lips is both surprised and filled with a desperate need as your eyes go wide. Obi-Wan, his own breath stuttering, has a hand biting into the soft skin of your hip. The sensations are quick, intense jolts of pleasure that spike through your clit without any build up, leaving you only able to lie there and take each gasp and whimper as it hits you, which pleases Cody immensely as he watches your eyes lose focus.

You’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment of hearing the sounds you’re unable to stop yourself from making or the innate humiliation of being made to punish yourself by using Obi-Wan’s cock that causes your cheeks to burn. But regardless, you resist the urge to press your hands to your cheeks to shield them from their eyes when Cody finally nods to signal that you may stop.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, only speaking once your breathing has settled slightly and your eyes are closed. “You may begin.”

Obi-Wan, not needing much more encouragement than that, leans back slightly, smoothly guiding himself into position before he slowly, but in a controlled, powerful thrust, sheaths himself inside you, nuzzling his face against your neck and letting out a deep groan as he does.

“Beautiful girl,” he breathes, and his beard tickles against your skin, causing you to let out a small giggle that quickly dissolves into a soft moan as he pulls his hips back, every inch of him dragging through your walls before, just as patiently, just as eager to enjoy every inch of you constricting around him, he sinks back in, teasing both of you and basking in the quiet sounds of pleasure you make as he draws out the moment, continuing to punctuate each sound with a slow, controlled thrust.

You would think that feeling the innate stretch of him as he fills you would cease to shock you after the first few testing, languid thrusts, but it doesn’t. Not when his hips roll against you And he’s moaning against your ear, tongue tracing a lazy path along the shell just so he can feel your shiver. Not when his hips are pulling back and as he does, the pillow that bolsters your hips creating a perfect angle for him to drag against your G-spot. Not when his speed, inch by inch begins to build and increase, thrusts growing quick, short, and deep as he savors the feeling of how you hold onto him so perfectly.

“Look at you,” Obi-Wan breathes, leaning back, eyes transfixed by the way he disappears within you so beautifully after each thrust. His fingers delicately skim down your sides, settling at your hips as his eyes drag up your form, captivated as your chest heaves with uneven breaths. He reaches up a hand, running it from your stomach to your breast, cupping it gently and running his thumb along your hardened nipple, feeling you clench in response.

He leans in, his hand guiding your nipple to his mouth, tongue sweeping around it to tease before eagerly taking it between his lips, causing your back to arch and for you to let out a surprised, rather undignified squeak as he chuckles against you.

“I can still taste Cody on you,” he whispers, looking up at you as his tongue runs a slow trail along the underside of your breast. “Such a pretty mess.”

He drags his tongue between the valley of your breasts, making no effort to hide how much he’s enjoying tasting the commander on your skin, the rocking of his hips growing more insistent and demanding as your legs wrap around his waist, wriggling to meet each thrust as best as you can.

He begins to fuck you in quick, rough strokes that seem to be hitting every place inside you that you want, but for the sake of your dwindling control, you know that is the last thing that you need. And because he’s Obi-Wan Kenobi—because he knows the rules and is not going to break them—he is going to push you to the absolute edge of your limits as he dangerously walks the line between them, and his hand curiously dips between your legs.

Things feel hazy and disjointed as you teeter precariously on the edge, desperately trying to stave off your release without any help from Obi-Wan. You think you might make a noise in protest. He only shushes you with a soft kiss, his tongue, with a coaxing swipe, teasing its way past your parted lips as he moans into your mouth.

“Breathe,” he whispers against your skin, even as he grasps tightly to your hip so that he can drive himself into you with increased force. His thumb idly strokes along the hood of your clit, slow, predictable. But at this point, if your focus slips even for a second, it still might just be enough to tip you over the edge.

So, you listen. 

As Obi-Wan pounds into you and his rhythm becomes less controlled—as his head tips back and those blue eyes of his widen and become lost in pleasure, as barely restrained whimpers and moans fall from his lips—you breathe. Slow, deep and controlled, forcing your breaths to fake a calm that you do not feel. It’s all you can do to cling to them. They are the only things keeping you grounded in any semblance of reality as Obi-Wan pulls out and then in one swift movement buries himself inside you, hips continuing to twitch as stuttered noises fall from his lips and he releases, his cock pulsing as you feel him spill himself within your walls.

Miraculously, despite the fact that your walls are fluttering with temptation and expectant anticipation, you manage—with what feels like only a millimeter left of control—to stop your own release from following after his. The denial of it, going against all of your body’s instincts, urges, and wants, is about as disappointing as can be expected. But you are determined to persevere.

You let out a slow, cautious breath and slowly allow your eyes to open. 

Obi-Wan slowly, carefully eases himself out of you, both of you letting out simultaneous gasps as he does, his eyes fluttering shut. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your brow, before easing his weight off of you, rolling onto his side and resting his head against your shoulder. You smile, contentedly rubbing your cheek against his hair as your eyes find Cody.

His countenance is pleased, the smile on his face warm as he observes you both, still in the afterglow of your activities. You also note, cheeky as your eyes drift downward, that it’s clear that he’s been enjoying the view, his hand loosely wrapped around his cock, which is once again standing firm and on display between his strong thighs. 

“When you’re ready,” he speaks quietly, his words directed towards you. “Come here, mesh’la.”

You nod, turning your attention back to Obi-Wan, your head dipping down to press several kisses against his forehead, his cheek, the tip of his nose which makes him smile fondly up at you, his eyes bright. 

“I’ll be alright,” he answers your unasked question with a small grin. “I’m quite looking forward to seeing this display.”

You smile, tilting your head to press one last chaste kiss to his lips before moving to the edge of the bed. You look back at him as you get up, and despite the way he’s smiling at you, despite the fact that you can feel his spend leaking down your thigh as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and get to your feet, there’s something in his eyes that states pretty damn clearly that he’s not wholly satisfied, even if he’d never admit it.

Hm, you think, maybe Cody was right. Maybe you’re not having been allowed to come had been just as much of a disappointment for him as it was for you.

You try to shake it off, but despite your best efforts, Obi-Wan’s wide, longing eyes follow you even as you walk away from him and settle yourself in Cody‘s lap, his arms guiding you around so that you’re sitting with your back pressed against his chest.

“What is it, lovely?” Cody asks, evidently picking up on your energy without you even saying a word.

“Obi-Wan looks... lonely,” you say quietly, troubled eyes darting to the Jedi Master who has shifted on the bed with his legs crossed, watching with curiosity. “I just don’t want him to feel left out,” you admit, looking down.

“I won’t be, sweet one,” Obi-Wan’s soft murmur cuts through your thoughts, and you tentatively look up to meet his gaze. “The Force allows me to still partake in the experience even if I am not an active participant. Besides,” the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth is devilish, “even if I were just to sit back and enjoy the view, I would still find it just as gratifying. You both really are a beautiful sight to behold.”

“Oh,” you mutter, ducking your head as your cheeks heat. Despite the fact that minutes ago he had been buried inside you, knowing that the Force allows him to feel, in some sense, exactly the effect of what he’s doing to you, or what Cody might do to you, you can’t help but flush a little.

“You are a sweet thing,” Cody murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you tightly to him, his lips against your neck trailing up towards your ear. “If he had been teasing me half as much as he had teased you, I don’t think I’d be so considerate,” he whispers, letting his teeth graze over your earlobe and causing you to jump slightly, letting out a small giggle.

“Because this pretty girl is so thoughtful,” Cody says, raising his voice slightly so that Obi-Wan can hear, “you are allowed to touch yourself, if you desire it. But you can’t come until she does, clear?”

“Crystal,” Obi-Wan grins, giving him a thumbs up.

Cody must send him some sharp look of rebuke that indicates he does not appreciate the breach of protocol at this time, and it’s Obi-Wan’s turn to blush, glancing down at the comforter. “I-I mean yes, sorry, sir.”

Cody hums, but quickly turns his attention back to you, satisfied that Obi-Wan will remain obedient for the time being. 

He can be good,” he murmurs, his voice low against your ear. “And you can be quite impatient.”

You follow his gaze downward to where your hips, of their own accord, have shamelessly begun to shift against him, seeking the firm press of his erection against you. You blush, and you swear you can feel your ears go pink. But really, Cody seems more amused than anything as his hands settle at your hips, taking control of your movements.

“Let’s fix that.”

Without pause, he’s lifting you up and, only giving you time to let out a surprised gasp as he swiftly but carefully eases you back down onto his cock, your sharp inhale turning into nothing but a soft, needy whine as the head stretches your entrance and pushes inside.

Once he’s settled inside you, and every inch of his cock is snuggly nestled within your walls, he doesn’t immediately begin to bounce you up and down on his length as you had anticipated he would. Instead, he remains still, letting you adjust to the size of him, his chin dropping to rest against your shoulder, eyes locked where the two of you are joined and letting out a low groan as he feels you spasm around him.

“Look at Obi-Wan,” he whispers, nipping at your shoulder. “Such a desperate boy, and it’s all for you, mesh’la.”

Your heavy-lidded eyes flutter open to find that Obi-Wan, leaning back against some pillows, is lazily stroking himself, already half hard. You have to wonder if Jedi have some sort of Force-given ability to have much quicker refractory periods than a standard human, considering how quickly Obi-Wan seems to have recovered, and for obvious reasons, this added benefit of being able to wield those powers isn’t openly discussed. Either way, you’re not complaining, because he makes for a mouthwatering sight.

His eyes are closed as he seems to be avidly tuned into sensations that are beyond both you or Cody’s comprehension, or, you think, are exactly the sensations that you and Cody are feeling at this moment.

Curious, you wonder, suddenly needing to test this theory. Keeping your eyes locked on Obi-Wan, you deliberately tighten your walls, constricting around Cody and hearing his stuttered breath in response and feeling the way the grip on your hips suddenly becomes bruising. 

Obi-Wan, at the same time, seems to have a full body shudder in reaction, his eyes going wide as he looks up at you, his hand momentarily going slack from where it had been previously lightly fondling his balls, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

“Oh, your thoughts positively sing upon the realization. Now isn’t that fun? 

But despite this, the desperation of your denied orgasm has not faded. In fact, the heated, firm stretch as Cody fills you with every inch of him, is making your mind become fuzzy. You’re only able to focus on how it feels to be so wonderfully and completely stuffed full with him inside you.

Your hips are moving with not much conscious thought to guide your actions and only a wild, untamed instinct as your need for release grows and he continues to hold completely still. You try to work yourself on him, tempting him with enticing, desperate little circles as you wiggle your hips in an effort to gain more, but his control appears to have no less than an iron grip, despite the fact that his eyes are blissfully closing.

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back so that you’re pressed flush against him, no longer able to move as your hips are pinned. 

“No squirming, sweetheart,” he scolds, giving you a slight squeeze, just enough to show you that you’re not going anywhere. “You’ve already come without permission. So now you don’t get to come the way that you want. You’re going to come exactly in the way that I want you to, and right now, I want you to come for me just like this.”

Your eyes widen, and it’s embarrassing the way you have to physically bite back the impulse to actually let out a whine. But he’s still going to let you come, you remind yourself. You just can’t imagine how you’re supposed to get there when he’s refusing to let you move. As if in answer to your question, a hand drifts between your legs, idly stroking along your thigh, before calloused fingers are lightly pressing against your clit, drawing slow, small circles that cause you to whimper before you can even register the noise.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, taking you off-guard. “If I lift her just a little bit, would you be able to hold her there?”

Obi-Wan must give some sign of ascent, and you’re still frantically trying to piece together what the kriff he’s trying to accomplish when Cody’s hands are back on your hips, pulling you up slightly and creating a brief white-hot flicker of friction that you’ve been craving before he pauses, letting go of one of your hips but incredibly and to your disappointment, you don’t slide back down onto him.

Instead, your body is seized with the strange feeling of being held despite the fact that there’s nothing visibly there to hold you up. You’re suspended there but miraculously feel somewhat cradled, allowing you to rid yourself of the need for your muscles to tense up or fight against it.

“Perfect,” Cody’s voice is a soft rumble, tight with anticipation. “That’s exactly how I want you.”

With that, one of his hands is returning to your hip, though you quickly realize it’s more for him to hold onto than to hold yourself up, and with a slow, controlled lift of his hips, he’s gently thrusting up into you, letting out a low moan.

His pace is both sensual and unhurried as he rhythmically continues to roll his hips against you, allowing every slow, deep thrust to let you feel each press of his pelvis against your ass. The flush of his heat, the drag of his cock as Cody takes full advantage of this angle, lets his hips buck up into you and stroke places hidden deep inside. The build that stirs within the pit of your stomach is slow as it creeps up on you, but is nonetheless just as tantalizing and just as intense, if not more.

“Sir,” you cry out, and Cody chuckles, hearing the note of desperation that rings clear in your voice.

“What is it, cyar,” he murmurs, his voice teasing. 

“I, ooh,” you cut off your own words with a gasp-moan at Cody’s next thrust, sharper and more intense as the head of his cock nudges against somewhere that makes your toes curl and your mind go blank.

“Can’t use your words already?” Cody tsk’s, though he doesn’t sound too disapproving of that fact. “Poor girl. What am I going to do with you?”

He smirks, answering his own question as his hand runs a teasing path down your stomach, causing you to squirm in place before his fingers dip lower, returning to your clit.

“Isn’t this pretty?” he muses, as two fingers press against the hardened bundle and roughly begin to circle against it, no longer coaxing, but commanding every ounce of your pleasure as he continues to thrust, his pace steady. 

You moan helplessly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he plays with your clit. Cody lets out a growl, the pleased sound reverberating in his chest as his other hand moves to tighten its grip on your hip, keeping you still and as he wants you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart?” Cody asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer, giving your clit a slight flick with his fingers just to feel your walls twitch.

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice coming out in a high, unrestrained whimper. “Please, sir, please.”

“Already begging, and I didn’t even have to ask.” Cody’s tone is amused. “Needy little thing.”

Your cheeks burn, but at this point, you’re too far gone and too unashamed to even register it. 

“Since you’ve been good,” Cody begins, deliberately dragging out his words as he pretends to consider, circling your clit with skilled fingers. “And since you beg so nicely.”

He pauses, taking a moment to enjoy the next rock of his hips as he thrusts deeply up into you, holding himself there as his fingers continue to stroke. 

“Come for me,” he whispers, voice rough against your ear as he fills you completely. “Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”

Well, you certainly don’t need much more encouragement than that. 

Letting out a sound that could be classified as either a whine of relief or a scream, your back arches, your stomach muscles going tense as his words cause the dam to immediately shatter.

The pleasure that pulses through you is white hot, causing your legs to shake and your ears to start ringing. Cody is so deep, his cock persistent as it firmly presses against a spot within you that has you seeing stars that dance behind your tightly closed eyelids.

It feels endless and all encompassing, and Cody only seems to drag it out when he resumes his thrusts, his speed becoming rough and sharp as he repeatedly buries himself deep within your walls, his own release imminent.

When he comes it’s with a low, satisfied groan, burying his face against your neck as his cock spasms, feeling the warmth of his seed as it fills you.

If you could bring yourself to open your eyes, you would find that Obi-Wan has thrown his head back, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as Cody’s pleasure combining with your own and sweeping through the Force like a tidal wave have seemed to completely do him in. You hear his whimper though and the sounds he makes as he’s tipped over the edge and follows you both into this suspended world of pleasure when he releases.

Obi-Wan, still managing to hold on to some impeccable sense of control, slowly lets you sink back down, fully lowering you onto Cody’s cock, causing a broken whimper to fall from your lips as you do. Cody’s arms are around you, and when you eventually manage to come back to yourself, they are warm and secure.

Cody’s movements are careful as he allows himself to slip from you, though somewhere in the back of your mind, a small noise of protest still manages to slip past your lips anyway. He shushes you, dipping slightly to press a slow, almost reverent kiss to your forehead as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to the bed.

He doesn’t even set you down before Obi-Wan’s arms reach for you, pulling you against his chest as you curl up against him and Cody smiles, fingers running through the Jedi’s hair as he looks down at the two of you.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, leaning forward to brush his lips first with Obi-Wan’s and then with yours, slow and unhurried. “Just need to get something to clean both of you up a little, okay?”

You both manage to mumble somewhat coherent responses, because Cody’s quiet footsteps retreat, and a moment later, there’s a sound of water running from the attached fresher.

“You did beautifully,” Obi-Wan breathes, nuzzling against your hair as he holds you close. 

“So did you,” you murmur, voice slightly muffled against his chest as you beam up at him, cheeks still glowing softly.

He looks down at you, and both his smile and his eyes are bright. You both exchange satisfied grins, Obi-Wan leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. His beard tickles slightly, causing you to let out a quiet snort, your cheeks immediately heating, then both of you simultaneously fall into soft laughter until Cody returns.

“I do hope you’re not embarrassing our guest, Obi-Wan,” Cody teases, re-entering the room and taking in your flushed cheeks. “Considering we actually want her to come back.”

Your heart warms a little, knowing that they want this to be more than a one time thing, because in the back of your mind, this whole time, no matter how confident you became, you had wondered if you hadn’t lived up to their expectations. But sensing both of them now, you find that it’s easy to dismiss your fears as unfounded.

You allow yourself to go boneless, limp, and relaxed as Cody sits on the edge of the bed gently running a damp, warm washcloth over your chest and stomach, eyes closed as he cleans you up.

You flinch a little, and your leg instinctively moves to kick out when he runs the cloth closer to the apex of your thighs. Cody hums a quiet apology, movements gentling further, eyes intent as they observe your face for any continued sign of discomfort. After a moment, your eyes flutter closed once more.

Cody repeats this process with a clean cloth retrieved for Obi-Wan. Their voices are quiet and familiar, as if this is a routine they’re well acquainted with.

Despite the sheen of sweat that has settled on your skin, you find that you’ve begun to tremble, adrenaline leaving you feeling chilled. Cody is so warm as he crawls in on your other side, chest pressing flush against your back as he tugs a thick comforter over the three of you, arm settling around both you and Obi-Wan.

You don’t mean to, really, you don’t. But they’re so warm, and they’re so gentle, and you’re just so nicely sandwiched between the two of them. Obi-Wan’s fingers are so soothing as they stroke through your hair, and Cody is leaving soft, scattered kisses against the back of your neck and shoulder and it just...happens.

You’re asleep before you even have the sense to tell them that you’re tired. 

Neither of them mind a bit. 

“So.” Cody’s voice is low and quiet as he looks up at Obi-Wan, still stroking your hair in the dim light. “How do you think that went?”

Obi-Wan tilts his head, his expression thoughtful for a moment before his eyes turn soft, looking up at Cody with big blues that have a 100% guarantee of making him melt every single time.

“Can we keep her?” Obi-Wan asks, and it’s adorable the way his arms tighten around you, his voice turning pleading and hopeful, as if there was ever a chance that Cody would say no.

Cody‘s head falls back, and he lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through his chest, causing you to stir slightly. He stills, watching you intently for any further signs of waking, but you only let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling your cheek against Obi Wan‘s chest as you sleep on.

“Well, if the lady is agreeable.” Cody tilts his head, fingers idly reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair that’s falling into your eyes. “If the lady is agreeable,” he murmurs again, carefully leaning across you to press a kiss to the top of Obi-Wan‘s head, his eyes warm and fond.

“Then I would say that I’d like that very much.”

•if you enjoyed this, please consider dropping me a reblogg of this fic. It would be very much appreciated. Thank you💞

[st4rsnf1cs]

Missed

Pairings: Commander Cody x Kenobi! Reader

Summary: your Obi-wan's sister, and Cody knocked you up in the midst of your secret relationship. And now he's coming to terms with being a father, now that he gets to hold his son in your arms.

Ganre: mostly fluff, a bit of sensuality

Word count: 1,713

Warnings: nudity (no smut)

A/n: this was fun to write, I love dad clones

“So you're dating my sister.”

“... yes General…”

“And you got her pregnant?”

Cody pauses, sucking in a deep breath through his nose as he nods, looking anywhere but at his general, and friend Obi-Wan.

“I see…” Obi-Wan trailed off, rubbing his beard before humming, placing a hand on Cody's shoulder. The clone looked up, almost shocked at the non angered touch.

“You love her?” He asked, and again Cody nodded. “Yes General… i- I love her.” He breathed out. It was such a relief to say.

He knew clones weren't really allowed to have lovers, but as soon as he met you, he knew you were the one.

You were a force to be reckoned with, the poor opposite of his General. You were snarky, serious and yet Cody thought you were the sweetest and most amazing woman he'd ever met. Granted he's only ever met a female jedi who doesn't really talk to him.

But you always talked to him.

He remembered when you told him about your conversation with Obi-wan, about a day prior to his confrontation with the man… boy was that vivid.

“Obi just listen for a second!” You shouted as you watched your brother pace back and forth. He was on a mission for a couple months, and hadn't really seen you minus your face, so when he came back to the temple and visited you, only to see that you were showing off a small but visible baby bump, and on top of that fact he found out it was Cody's?

Yeah he was mad.

“I came onto Cody! When you sent him here for some med supplies! We had kind of been flirting and I may have crossed the line between friendly flirting and seductive flirting and we- well- fucked-” you explained, grabbing your brothers shoulders as you grinned sheepishly.

“So we started dating in secret! I really like him so when you confront him and I know you will, don't kill him, please? He's the father of your nephew or niece!” You exclaimed.

Obi-wan sighed, shaking his head as he looked at you. “I just can't believe you'd be so reckless.” He huffed, and you rolled your eyes. “He put on a condom, but it broke and I found out the day we did it my implant expired.” You said honestly, but to you, it seemed to be fate.

Or the will of the force.

After hearing the circumstances Obi-Wan frowned, but nodded in understanding.

“Okay fine…. I won't kill him.”

-

You updated your brother and Cody on a lot of the stuff going on with your pregnancy. Unlike the Jedi you could actually have attachments as long as they knew it wasn't a clone. And you were pretty good and kept secrets.

The more pregnant you grew the more you started staying home, until it was actually time to give birth to your son.

You and Cody both agreed you wanted to wait to find out the gender after the baby was born, but unfortunately for Cody he was on a mission with your brother when your water broke and your labor started.

You did a home birth and had a doula. Not like you didn't trust the GAR doctors but you'd rather have someone human by your side instead of medical droids.

You had meant to call obi-wan, but your labor was painful, and long. But by the end of it you had a healthy baby boy, whom you had yet to name, you at least wanted to wait until Cody came back for that.

It had been a few days, getting used to the baby's schedule was… hard but you felt like you were starting to get the hang of it.

You were currently breastfeeding in the kitchen when you heard the lock turn at the front door. You smiled, and continued feeding, watching as Cody walked in, still wearing his armor which had been worn from countless battles.

But he smiled at you, and then noticed the baby in your arms. It took him a moment until he realized that it wasn't just some random kid sucking on your tit's… but it was his baby.

Cody's jaw dropped.

“You had- you had him without me?!”

You almost flinched at Cody’s tone if you hadn't learned to calm yourself when it came to the baby. You stood up, pulling the child off you for a moment as you pulled up your shirt, holding your son in your arms as you walked over to the clone. “Yes… I'm sorry baby. I tried to prolong it but my water broke fast and I was already in labor and in so much pain.” You whispered.

Cody frowned, he never understood the concept of labor, when he first found out you were pregnant he wondered. How? since he didn’t see the fetus in a tube. You had told him that nat- born babies are quite different, and grow inside of the woman.

“I’m sorry for shouting, I just can’t believe I missed it.” He sighed, leaning into your touch as you raised a hand to his cheek. “I mean if it's any consolation i got my doula to record a video, i had a feeling you might’ve wanted to see the process, even in my painhaze.” You chuckled sheepishly, before bringing Cody over to the living area.

“Armor off.” You ordered softly, and Cody complied, never tearing his eyes off the baby in your arms as he removed his armor. You gently held the baby out, adjusting his arms as need be. But soon Cody was cradling your son in his arms, in awe of the entire thing.

“I can’t believe this grew inside you for nine months…” he trailed off. He knew that nat-borns didn’t have the accelerated growing gene that made clones ready for battle within ten years, but none of that mattered to him.

Having his own genetics, well- his clone genetics, mixed with another's- your’s, it kind of segmented that he was just as human as you were. Cody smiled, warmly, pressing his lips to the top of the baby’s head.

You moved down to sit beside him, letting out a relieved sigh that you had a bit of a break. Cody looked over at you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you closer. “You okay?” He asked, and you nodded, resting your shoulder on his shoulder.

“Yes… m’ just tired.” You whispered, the exhaustion of birth, and baby caring having finally caught up to you. But you couldn’t sleep, not until the baby was.

But as you looked over at your son, your jaw dropped seeing how he was already fast asleep in Cody's arms.

“This little bastard has been so fussy with me these past two days, and now the moment he's in your arms he's asleep?” You whispered, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. Cody let out a soft chuckle. “Well, this little guy just needed daddy’s touch.” He joked, and you grinned. “I think i need some of that.” You snickered.

Cody gave you a look before standing up, and you followed suit before walking to the nursery. He helped pick the room and the colors but you and your brother did most of the building when he was off working missions with other battalions without Obi-Wan.

“It’s perfect.” He murmured to you, and you nodded with a grin, watching as Cody gently laid your son down in the crib you had built, laying the baby on his stomach rather than his back before placing the blanket over him.

When your son was still fast asleep Cody walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he placed gentle kisses all over your face. You let out soft giggles, rubbing his back as you embraced him.

“Have you named him?” Cody asked, but you shook his head. “No, I wanted to wait until you came home for that.” You whispered, walking out of the nursery, closing the door behind you as you walked to your’s and Cody’s shared bedroom.

“What were you thinking?” He asked, and you hummed, changing out from your dirty, slobbed on clothes into something a little more comfortable. “Well I was thinking of something that represents him. That… or you could name him.” You stated, laying down in bed as Cody also worked on getting undressed.

“Really? you want me to name him?” Cody asked, and you grinned, nodding your head. Cody stood there, thinking for a moment before his face lit up like it always did when he came up with a plan or an idea.

“What about… Koen?” He asked, and you tilted your head. “What does it mean?” You asked, getting out of bed as Cody gestured for you to join him in the shower. “It means hero… because I have a feeling he’s going to grow up to be one.” Cody said, helping you remove your clothes before bringing you into the shower.

The warm water cascaded down your back and you hummed in delight, nodding to Cody to confirm the name. “I love it, hun.” You muttered, stretching your arms upwards with a sigh.

Cody admired you, his hands sliding onto your hips, before trailing upwards. “They got bigger…” He trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow, looking down at your breasts. You snorted, nodding your head. “Yeah- cuz’ they’re full of milk for Koen.” You snickered, biting your lip as Cody raised his hands, and cupped your breasts within them.

“Gentle baby, they’re tender.” You warned, but didn’t push him away.

“I missed you so much…” He groaned, sliding his hands down as he pulled you against him, capturing your lips with his.

You smiled against him, sliding your hands up to his hair before moving your hand to his cheek, your finger tracing the scar by his eye. He hummed against you, pulling back moments later. “You mean everything to me Cyare, and now Koen does too… I promise I will protect you both.” He whispered.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him while resting your head on his chest, hearing the steady thumping of his heart beat… and it brought you so much comfort.

“I know Cody… I know.”

➺

Tag list:

Cody tag:

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[dontyoufeelitangel]

CLONE CLAY STAMPS🤍

little tutorial

[captainsophiestark]

A Bad Idea

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 31 Prompt: "It's not your fault."

Summary: Obi-Wan and his best friend/fellow Jedi are getting Hondo's help on a mission. Predictably, things don't go according to their plan.

Word Count: 2,045

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: That's a wrap for Fictober gang! Thank you so much to @fictober-event for putting this whole thing on and to everyone who's read one of my stories! Honestly can't believe the amount of writing I got done for this event

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I think this might be the worst idea we've ever had."

"If you don't count ideas that Anakin came up with and we agreed to, then yes, it probably is."

Obi-Wan Kenobi and I stood shoulder to shoulder on the ramp of our ship, waving as the one and only Hondo Ohnaka came towards us. We'd recently gotten information that the Separatists were using a different group of pirates to smuggle things out of reach of the Republic, and together, Obi-Wan and I had decided the best way to infiltrate a pirate base was with the help of another pirate. On paper, it sounded perfectly rational, especially since we had a pirate contact we could go to. In reality, it was probably going to get us killed.

"Kenobi!" called Hondo once he got within earshot of us. "It is wonderful to see you again! And who is your lovely friend? A girlfriend, perhaps?"

Heat and embarrassment rushed through me, and I felt a wave of discomfort coming off of Obi-Wan in the Force too.

"Jedi don't typically date," he quickly explained, waving Hondo off. "And it wouldn't be any of your business anyway."

"I'm a friend of Obi-Wan's," I continued. "We grew up at the Temple together."

Hondo gave me a quick once over, then evaluated Obi-Wan the same way. Then, he smiled and held out his hand to me.

"Well, any friend of Obi-Wan's is a friend of mine! It is very nice to meet you, I'm sure!"

I forced a smile as I took his hand and shook it. I didn't think he'd meant to, but Honda had hit a very sore spot for me. I'd harbored feelings for my best friend for years now, against the Code, and I'd done my best every single day to hide them from him and from anyone else. A hundred Jedi who'd known me since birth couldn't tell, but this Weequay had hit the bullseye within moments of seeing me for the first time.

"Come on," Obi-Wan whispered to me, leaning in close to my ear so Hondo couldn't hear him as the Weequay moved past me into the ship. "The sooner we start this mission, the sooner it's officially over."

"Can't wait," I muttered. "And you said this guy was your friend?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "More like... acquaintance who tries to kill me sometimes. Although I think he unironically considers me his best friend."

I smiled a little at that, especially as Obi-Wan moved into the ship after Hondo and Hondo immediately flung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in. Based on the conversation I could hear as I brought in the ramp, Hondo was trying to convince Obi-Wan to sell him some of our Republic tech at a frankly ridiculous price. To no one's surprise (except maybe Hondo's), Obi didn't budge. He was remarkably gentle in his refusal, though.

After a brief challenge where Hondo insisted on piloting the ship and Obi-Wan had to convince him to sit in the passenger seat instead, we were on our way. With Hondo's help, we quickly found the pirate base we were looking for.

"Do you guys just constantly share locations with each other?" I asked as we came in for a landing not too far from the gates. Hondo shrugged.

"We do business with each other from time to time. Helps to know where your business partners are."

"Hm. Makes sense."

Hondo grinned at me. He clapped me on the shoulder and started walking down the ramp, and a moment later Obi-Wan took his place next to me.

"Don't turn your back on him," he warned. I turned, coming face to face with Obi-Wan. We'd known each other for most of our lives; I'd seen him a million times or more. But for this mission, we weren't in the typical Jedi robes, in an effort to go undercover. And seeing him standing next to me in a dashing pirate costume made my heart beat a little faster.

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." Obi-Wan stared off after Hondo, his expression clouded, so I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. "We'll be fine, okay? We've survived everything we've gone through so far. What's a couple pirates?"

"The last time I interacted with pirates, Anakin and I ended up handcuffed to Count Dooku."

I laughed as we started strolling down the ramp together to catch up to Hondo.

"Well, if we find ourselves in a similar situation, I promise to make fun of Dooku even more than Anakin did with you."

"That, I would look forward to seeing." He sighed, nudging my shoulder with his just before we caught up to Hondo. "I suppose there's nothing left for us to do but dive straight in."

"Like you said. Sooner we start, sooner we get to go back to Cody and other, saner partners in crime."

"The fact that Anakin is significantly more rational and predictable than Hondo is... concerning."

I chuckled, and Obi-Wan and I shared a smile. Hondo clapped us both on the shoulders once we'd caught up with him at the door to the pirate's fort, and then we headed inside.

The next thing I remember, I was waking up on a concrete floor, my head pounding. I groaned, lifting one hand to my head, and to my surprise something dragged my other hand with it. I opened my eyes.

I was handcuffed. More than that, I was apparently handcuffed to someone else. I turned to my right to see Obi-Wan, already sitting up and looking at me.

"Good morning."

"What happened?"

"We were played." I sighed and flung my head back. All that talk about having each others' backs and not trusting Hondo, and it had been for nothing. "We were jumped as soon as we made it through the gates. Hondo turned us over and went to collect a bounty for us from the other pirates."

"Oh wonderful," I sighed, slumping back against Obi-Wan. My heart sped up a little bit at our close proximity, but unlike every other time we'd been close, this time I couldn't chicken out. It was lean against him, or very clearly, obviously, and uncomfortably lean away from him.

"I should've known we couldn't trust him," Obi-Wan said. "I just thought that this time we were prepared, so Hondo wouldn't be able to get one over on us. I should've known better."

"It's not your fault. Even I'd started to believe Hondo was honestly going to work with us for this mission. The fact that he'd already double-crossed us, before we even got on the ship..."

I trailed off, shaking my head. Obi-Wan sighed, and we spent a few moments leaning against the wall and each other, hands close together and heads resting against each other. I could've stayed like that for a long time, if we hadn't been sitting in a jail cell.

"So..." I finally started, still not moving an inch. "What did you do the last time you were in this situation?"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "Bickered with the Count, mostly. And made a few escape attempts. We would've been successful from the beginning had it not been for Dooku."

I huffed a small laugh. "Well, it's a good thing I'm here instead of him then, isn't it?"

"I truthfully can't think of anyone else I'd rather be stuck with."

We shared a smile, a warm feeling quickly dominating my chest. I couldn't quite stop myself from leaning forward ever so slightly, like Obi-Wan had his own gravity pulling me in. In this place, out of sight and temporarily forgotten by everyone else, being close to him didn't feel as scary as it did in the Temple or aboard the Negotiator.

To my immense surprise and delight, Obi-Wan leaned in too, a moment after me. He huffed a small laugh, his blue eyes sparkling.

"This is... probably a bad idea."

I didn't need to ask what he was talking about. I gave him a small smile and shrugged.

"No worse an idea than the one that got us in here in the first place."

"You certainly make a good point."

As one, we smiled and closed the remaining distance to each other, our lips meeting in a kiss I'd thought about a thousand times. It was even better than I'd imagined it would be, especially as I could feel Obi-Wan through the Force. My best friend, the man I'd loved a thousand different ways before I even really knew what the word meant, glowed with a happiness that matched mine.

No one had ever really found evidence that soulmates were real, despite all the mystical forces that did exist in the galaxy. But as I sat on the filthy floor of that cell and kissed my best friend, our energies twining together in the Force, I thought we'd come pretty close.

"Oh, this is very gross. And yet, it's exactly what I'd hoped to find."

Obi-Wan and I broke apart to find Hondo staring at us through the bars of the cell, a grin on his face. We fixed him with matching scowls.

"Come now, what are those looks for? You should be happy, look at the two of you!"

"Happy might be a stretch, since you double-crossed us," I said. Hondo's mouth dropped open and a hand flew to his chest.

"Double-crossed? No no no, I have done no such thing."

"Then why did we wake up handcuffed in a cell?" Obi-Wan demanded. "In my case, again."

"Ah, you see, it was all part of my brilliant plan!"

Obi-Wan and I shared a very, very skeptical look. Undeterred, Hondo pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket, still beaming at us.

"You thought the two of you, two Jedi, could actually sneak in here unnoticed? Ha! It never would have worked. So, I pretended to double-cross you, and while the two of you were in here admitting feelings for each other, I found your documents! After collecting the credits for turning you two over as prisoners, of course."

Obi-Wan and I stared, dumbfounded, as Hondo explained his plan and removed our handcuffs. We stood, helping each other up, both a little stunned that the Weequay had really outplayed everyone here.

"Come on, we must hurry," said Hondo, waving us after him as he headed for the cell door. "It won't take them long to figure out what we've done."

We spared one last shocked glance at each other, then hurried after Hondo through the winding halls of the pirates' lair.

"If you got your money and information, why did you come back for us?" asked Obi-Wan, suspicion dripping from his words. "Why not leave us to be cashed in for a bounty?"

I wanted to smack him for asking that question before we were safely back on our ship, but Hondo just turned to us, looking hurt and outraged that Obi-Wan would even suggest it.

"Kenobi, I am hurt! I would never do such a thing to such a good friend!" He turned, ignoring Obi's raised eyebrow as we at last made it out of the hideout. "Besides, there were no more credits to be gained by leaving you here. The only thing that would've happened was a profit for my competition."

I failed to fight off a smile. Now it all made sense.

Obi-Wan and I trailed just behind Hondo the last bit of distance to our ship, and cautiously, I slipped my hand into his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, turning to fix me with a small smile.

"You know this is going to complicate our lives beyond belief, don't you?"

"Yeah. But I think it's worth it. Our lives are already wildly complicated anyway."

Obi-Wan huffed a small laugh. "I agree."

"With which part?"

"All of it. But especially the part about this being worth it."

He gave my hand one last squeeze, and we shared another tender look before reaching the ramp of the ship and returning to business mode. I let Obi-Wan lead the way, and as I closed the ramp, I could already hear Hondo bargaining with Obi-Wan for credits in exchange for the information he'd retrieved while we'd been in the cell. Despite the exasperation on Obi-Wan's face and in his tone, I could still feel that glowing happiness radiating off of him in the Force, a mirror to my own. We were going to be just fine.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 12: Separated

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: graphic descriptions of war injuries and medical solutions, angst, light banter, confused Ani, Obi hurtin' :(, special guest 👀, guilty reader, Cody my bff, allusion to self-sacrifice, Ahsoka doing her best, wow everyone needs like so much therapy.

Summary: When the Republic's secret medical station becomes the Separatist's next target, you, Anakin, and Obi-Wan are forced back together from across the Galaxy to confront the threat. However, as you lead your end of the charge, distractions of the weeks prior cloud your thoughts and coerce you to confront the culminating impact of Qui-Gon's death. Hoping for a distraction from the consequent blunders, you try to focus on the mission at hand. Until an unexpected force's personal journey compels you to deeply reflect on your own.

Song Inspo: I Lost a Friend — FINEAS

Words: 12.8K

A/n: I'M ALIVEE. Apologies for the lengthy hiatus. Life got really crazy but I'm back with some more of ✨The Guardian✨ (and I'm going to start working on the requests in my inbox soon I promiseee!). Remember to comment with what you want to see in future chapters. Enjoy!

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

For these words of good, evil, and contemptible are ever used with relation to the person that useth them: there being nothing simply and absolutely so; nor any common rule of good and evil to be taken from the nature of the objects themselves — Thomas Hobbes

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan huffed impatiently from the convergence on the Negotiator’s bridge, arms folded neatly across the chest as he absorbed with purposefully raking eyes the striking, streaky holocomm image of his former Padawan’s excited upper torso.

The azure image sheepishly fluttered against the backdrop of glowing round sensors and flashing rectangular buttons. Their various configurations and proportions formulating the prismatic hemicircle control panel which stretched out beneath the trapezoidal viewport, evenly segmented to swallow the far wall. An enveloping frame that transformed the barrier into an existence of distant, flickering stars amidst an endless, jet-black mass that hardly distinguished it as a wall at all.

At least, not to Obi-Wan.

To the Master Jedi, it was an unseen path. A blindness rallying Force-sensitives’ reliance on the all-encompassing flow that had always guided his each and every move. Yet, there was such a thing as being too far out to sense its intricate indications of a war that spanned countless parsecs. And that meant, even to a Jedi with a warship each straddling his spearlike class leader, a Galactic war could pose quite the surprise at any turn.

And fuel a steady disquiet in moments like these, when the Force felt awfully clouded by an imperceptible numbness.

Though that was far from the main distraction drawing Master Kenobi’s heavily pointed eye beyond his maneuvering lips.

“You simply cannot be late to an emergency meeting you yourself called.”

“My bad, Master,” Anakin expelled.

Though his neck remained creaked downwards with baby blue eyes flicking side-to-side, acting as tight straws siphoning in information beyond Obi-Wan’s view. Each beat punctuated by the Jedi’s shoulders subtly gesturing alongside hand movements inputting far-off data. And just as smoothly as the Chosen One’s mind navigated the rolling screens Kenobi had imagined he was negotiating, the self-assured former Padawan still seemed to effortlessly communicate the situation at hand.

“Ahsoka and I had to get the strike force out and moving toward Grievous’s ship first. We might not have as much time as we thought.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan hummed while curiously eyeing the young Jedi, brows shifting from unease at his words as once crossed arms released to their respective, comfortably postured sides. “Care to share?”

“Still waiting on one more invite to this meeting,” Anakin explained, invisible fingers finally allowing forearms to rest as his shoulders relaxed into a slump, followed by a fluttering blue gaze now attentively rising toward the bearded Jedi.

Odd, Kenobi mused. Usually Anakin’s last-minute calls either involved relaying information vital to the war efforts or, in most cases, a change of plans— either of which Obi-Wan could easily pass along through the necessary channels. Rarely did it necessitate others’ involvement. And it surely couldn’t have included another Council member, since they would’ve arrived in an earlier fashion as the Master Jedi himself.

“Who?” Obi-Wan questioned.

But before Anakin even had a chance to release his jaw in response, a new holographic swirled into existence beside him, completing the triangle of bodies with a deep-bellied thrum.

A similarly flickering, cobalt specter whose back revealed the robed figure’s linen-wrapped arms and legs and lightly armored shoulders leisurely swiveled to face the holocomm’s emitter. Yet, despite the uniform tinge that consumed all such holographic images, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but divert his trailing gaze up their wears onto the set of sharp, gleaming eyes that secreted a hint of silver.

And after a brief pause in which those very same eyes adjusted to the forms before them, an inkling of once quirked lips and lifted cheeks trickled into a singular expression of finished neutrality and professionalism.

One too novel to be shared among friends.

“Master Kenobi,” you nodded simply.

Obi-Wan’s steady chest faltered with an uncomfortable celerity.

It’d been only a week or so since he’d seen you last. Even longer since Obi-Wan left you in your quarters that evening following the surprise ambush on Lanos. And, now that he thought about it, likely two weeks since the bearded man began to notice how the air between you two grew more delicate as your tactful efforts to mold a parrying dullness swelled into a steady rainfall.

A fortnight since you appeared to have misplaced his first name.

It was as subtle as standing on the opposite side of a leadership meeting, deliberately placing yourself between two clones who’d naturally allow the General a respectful gap between himself and the Regiment. It was the conscious avoidance of the Negotiator’s refractory whenever Kenobi experienced a rare chance to sit down for a meal, or the decision to reside on the mirror end of the chamber when he was present. And it was the one time you did finally engage with him a few days later during a system strategy meeting that took place by way of a similar holocomm exchange.

“Master Yoda expressly stated that King Katuunko would only allow the alliance negotiations between himself and the Senator representative on Rugosa to continue as long as a Jedi emissary was present,” Master Plo Koon continued neatly with his black, patchwork eye guards trained on General Kenobi.

“Don’t the Toydarians know we don’t have the manpower for a babysitter?” Anakin rather agitatedly expressed, nostrils flaring into his thick eyebrows as if repulsed by a pungent smell. “Even if we did send someone, it would be no use to them.”

“For once, I must agree with my former Padawan,” Obi-Wan lyrically vocalized with a hand subconsciously motioning at the idea. “I highly doubt that a Jedi would rival a trained senator in the exercise of diplomacy.”

“I can go, Master!” Ahsoka piped up brightly from her Master’s rear with lifted eyelashes and gently shaken montrals. “I mean, if it’s just a Jedi that needs to be there, I can do that.”

Anakin glared at the young Togruta with thinned lips, deliberately crossing his arms and angling to the side all to firmly mutter a simple command:

“Not now, Snips.”

“I’ll go.”

Obi-Wan’s head whipped toward your once noiseless form stood a few meters off from him, staring into the collection of holograms opposite its emitter with a steely creed buttressing each syllable as dancing, sapphire illuminations molded interlacing shadows to distort your countenance.

“That seems appropriate,” Master Plo readily spouted, head nodding neatly in agreement while his charcoal antiox breath mask bobbed along otherwise elliptically sculpted, ochre features.

But what Master Plo did not yet know, was that beyond this political snafu, Obi-Wan too had his own ongoing obligation to manage. The task of integrating The Guardian into the Order while ensuring their protection from dark forces who were sure to take action if they’d learned of your identity, and what that meant. A danger so great, that Master Yoda had yet to decide on how to inform the rest of the Council about its development. And with that, came the task of keeping you as far away as possible from blackened powers so to guarantee such a calamitous future never saw the light of dawn.

So, considering your state of being in the days prior, more than ever did Obi-Wan sense your disregard for these concerns from such an offer.

It was the wrong time for you to be going off on your own. And Obi-Wan had a responsibility to make that known.

“Silvey has been assigned by the Council to assist me with my Regiment,” he countered quickly, bolstered by a charged arc, yet even tread. “I do not believe I can do without them at this moment. They are also recovering from an injury during one of our most recent run-ins with the Separatists, which I’m sure requires more time to heal.

But not even the seasoned Jedi himself was truly prepared for the sheer impersonality of your businesslike regard as you twisted toward his form with an expressive detachment that, when compared to the prior months, rendered you unrecognizable to his vigilant, cerulean eyes.

“Master Kenobi,” you spoke evenly. “My leg is healed enough after a few days with a bacta patch. And I trust that you’ll be able to carry out the rest of this mission without me.”

Your true stare remained levied on his gaze as a hushed exhale fell past your lips. So placidly, that were Obi-Wan’s attention not solely focused on your next words, he would’ve certainly missed the faint wobble coloring its receding steps.

“I’m putting in a formal request to be temporarily transferred to Rugosa so to aid in their negotiations.”

Even now, a week later on the Negotiator’s bridge when faced with two Jedi dialing in from thousands of parsecs away, Obi-Wan recalled the tenuous stiffness that tugged at his breastbone in that moment. The sinking weight accompanying his realization made right then and there:

That his efforts to keep you nearby so to have any hope of acting as a barrier between you and the dark forces watching from the shadows was only forcing you to yank farther away from his necessary observation.

Maybe that’s why, for the sake of your future collaboration,

For your budding friendship,

The Master Jedi settled to meet you where you were at. To give in to exactly what you were pressing for in order to ensure your safety.

To give you… space.

It was with restraint equal to your own, Obi-Wan remembered, with which he approved the request. Respectfully downcast eyes and a simple nod had sent you on your way later that very same day, along with a small group of clones led by the reputable Commander Cody. The only clone in General Kenobi’s Regiment that he truly trusted to keep an eye on you in his place.

And a soldier the General knew would follow any carefully communicated instructions to the letter.

Still, Obi-Wan hadn’t predicted that it would take this long to cross paths with you again.

“You look well,” Kenobi expressed with scant ineptitude, granting enough freedom to the interval in between your spoken word and his to give pause to Anakin’s freshly perceptive expression, which raised a curious brow at the duo.

“The negotiations are wrapping up nicely,” you formally relayed, seemingly ignoring Skywalker’s questioning bearing in favor of communicating a timely report. “My squad and I are cleared for departure and may rendezvous with The Negotiator whenever it’s convenient.”

“That’s good timing, because we’ve got a problem,” Anakin butted in, suspiciously shifting gaze left to the wayside in favor of narrowed brows that was the Chosen One’s signature expression of solemnity. “Grievous’s warship attacked a convoy of medical transports near Ryndellia. We think he’s after Kaliida Shoals.”

“The medical center?” Obi-Wan questioned with thinly veiled surprise. “Anakin, that facility was supposed to be a secret. How did the Separatists learn of its existence?”

“I don’t know,” Skywalker echoed. “But they know about it now. My squad of Y-wings are taking a shortcut, but I’m not sure if we’ll get there in time.”

“I’ll contact the Naboo to request their assistance and let the facility know that I’m on my way as well,” Obi-Wan assured.

“Warn them of my arrival too,” you promptly raised, drawing Kenobi’s attention to ambivalently narrow at your words.

Though that did little in the way of stifling your stride.

“I’m closest so I’ll help with the evacuations. There’s probably an extra fighter here that I can borrow since we have so many protecting the negotiations. That way I can get there before the Naboo fleet.”

You nodded to yourself, seemingly appreciating the evolving plan as it swirled into existence past still-moving lips. "My clone squad will follow behind with a larger ship to supplement the facility’s escape shuttles.”

“No Silvey,” Obi-Wan voiced, tongue fluttering your name for the first time in a while. “That will bring you quite close to a Separatist leader. Something Master Yoda has advised you to avoid.”

He raised an emphatic brow, even restraining his voice as if an empty room of swirling sensors and buttons could decipher its meaning.

“We have your identity to think about.”

“The risk is low,” you expounded toward the bearded Jedi unflinchingly. “I doubt General Grievous has any desire to contact that facility directly.”

Then, while a touch of uncertainty skidded by upturned eyelashes, your hands rolled into a shrug as you twisted to address both men equally.

“Either way, isn’t this why I was requested to join this meeting? Because of my proximity?”

“Silvey’s right, Obi-Wan,” Anakin posited, angling toward the cerulean-eyed Jedi’s less-than-merry gaze. “They’re our best chance at getting the facility evacuated in time before the ion weapon arrives.”

Master Kenobi couldn’t help how Anakin’s unfortunately reasonable words delivered a feeble pinprick to his adeptly impartial posturing, breaching the seal for a taste of his inner thoughts to leak out in the form of a finely charged sigh that expelled through set nostrils. Stiff fingers reaching to stroke the corners of his auburn beard as if to draw out the rest of the swelling frustration that narrowed cobalt orbs into tapered brows.

And from the chilly, detached churn of your sideways peer at his form, Obi-Wan could still markedly discern that, no matter the stony stance you attempted to elicit by pitching your arms akimbo, the veiled fashion with which you chewed at your inner lip exposed just how stubborn you remained to his argument. Even when the cogs of your mind turned in a direction opposite to your body.

Though, in which bearing, he did not know.

“Uh, did I miss something?” Anakin suddenly queried, lips parted slightly while he puzzledly peaked at you both.

Yet by the way in which your glittering silver eyes cast asunder from his own, chest rising as you deeply inhaled into its discomfited crevice with a mind reflecting focus on some other Rugosian movement, Obi-Wan understood that this was perhaps a poor time to concentrate on such a subject.

“Fine, I’ll inform Nala Se of your arrival,” Obi-Wan yielded as his shoulders relented his beard-stroking arm to the side, all while your ever-watchful gaze returned to his. “But bring your squad along. They will be unable to aid you if left to follow along in a slower ship.”

“Time is of the essence, Master Kenobi,” you straightly reminded. “The fighters on Rugosa are the fastest transports available, but they only have room for a copilot at most.”

“Then take Commander Cody,” the elder Jedi practically ordered.

Obi-Wan watched as the ligaments in your throat twitched from your quiet swallowing.

“Yes… General,” you acquiesced with delicately raised brows pitched over lips pursed illusively.

Yet that retort appeared to only heighten the incontrovertible befuddlement that nearly furrowed Anakin’s brows into his monitoring baby blue eyeballs.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan expelled before his former Padawan had the chance to probe any further through loose lips. “Our main mission is to protect that facility. We all know our part. Comm this channel with any updates.”

Roping his hands to fold back into each other against a straightened spine, the Master Jedi ended the meeting of quivering blue, holographic streaks and notably disparate impressions with one last memento.

“May the Force be with you both.”

—

No matter the weightlessness of your footsteps, your treading boots still kindled soft, echoing thumps like an infant flame as you traversed the narrow, cubic hallway that led to the medical center’s main command. That, of course, meant Commander Cody’s comparably lumbering stride resonated with a vigor that supplied an unforgettable reminder of the facility’s smooth, metal construction like a chronometer. With its reflective navy floors, rusting chalk walls, and highly collaged paneling, it was a wonder how the normal bustle expected in such a regional hub wouldn’t generate an endless barrage of clamoring turbulence.

A testament to the VenteX Construction Yards’ quality technology, according to the short facility report you perused during the brief journey here.

Thank you, Cody, you hoped to say once more. From what you learned in Rugosa, he always seemed to be prepared. And that meant, so were you.

Still, you weren’t ready to bestow praise upon such talented, Republic builders just yet. It was instances like these, in which overwhelming silence subsumed your surroundings like a vacuum sucked out air, and in which a ticking beat centered the mind as would an ancient meditation tool, that you found yourself left with something you were really trying to avoid.

Your thoughts.

It was quite the adjustment, you were beginning to realize. Transitioning from a life of static, icy days to an existence among so many different kinds of beings.

A life of unfamiliarity,

Of war,

And death.

So, so much death.

And it seemed like it only took seizing those experiences in their rawest form and stabbing them into your cerebral cortex like a hammer to a cold, rusty nail for that very catalyst to coerce you into considering their verity, arriving in stillness like a strong gust that stifles breath into unavoidable, beating ruminations.

It compelled you, to finally register, to truly internalize, that Qui-Gon was gone.

Just like Getter, and just like that creature of purity.

Your friend, was gone.

And, in that moment, whatever tiny piece of childlike hope, whatever illogical thought about his return that remained all this time in the deepest crevices of your mind, seemed to disappear too.

You truly were alone.

Until Obi-Wan appeared.

In one of your most conflicting hours, in which you were coming to terms with your Master’s death and the consequences of such a fact, he placed a hand atop your fist. He lifted your chin from troubling thoughts.

And he caressed your hand—

No, you internally adjusted, slightly shaking your head to loosen that particular memory from your mind as your well-adjusted footfalls carried you away from the stiffly wrapped wall paneling by which it fell.

Because you just couldn’t do it.

At least, not right now.

You enjoyed Obi-Wan’s company, you thought. Appreciated his mind, and respected his character. All factors that contributed to the growing friendship you sensed budding between the two of you.

And it was for that exact reason that, in a knee-jerk reaction, you pulled away.

Your mission was Anakin. Guarding the Chosen One. You couldn’t afford the clouded nature your mind embraced as you journeyed through Qui-Gon’s death. And that meant you couldn’t sustain another.

You needed to wait. Felt compelled to temporarily lock the gate to your strengthening fellowship. For, in this unpredictable time of war, if you’d lost him too, your last connection to Qui-Gon, alone would fail to describe the depth with which you’d feel disconnected from the Galaxy.

But, even as you passed through the last charcoal archway into the command center’s grimy white staging area of encompassing red and silver panels and rambunctiously flashing buttons, the new atmosphere failed to in any way hinder the invariably thrumming shame that churned your gut and shifted your demeanor. As you stood beyond the handful of medical clones rushing commands with expertly trained fingers through the computerized workstations lining the rear wall, such excitement too was futile in impeding the elusive hurt that swam behind his cerulean eyes in those memories of avoiding his approaches, attempts at conversation, or dependably questioning gaze.

No matter, for now, with two feet easing into a standstill before the medical officer ranked highest by three red dots hugging his white-draped sleeve and the superior Kaminoan with similar garb wrapped below a protracted neck, you could take comfort in the fact that such a circumstance would never be the case with Anakin.

In all likelihood, considering your position, you’d be the first to go in the line of duty protecting him. He’d always be there while you were around.

At least Obi-Wan was right about that.

“Nala Se, my name is Silvey—“ you uttered clearly, relying on the familiarity of her pearly white complexion and metallic, oval head medallion from your temporary right hand’s report.

Speaking of.

“—and this is Commander Cody,” you nodded at the soldier stood firmly beside you. "We’re here to assist you in any way we can to usher along these evacuations.”

The Chief Medical Scientist of Kamino’s towering figure offered a gradual, appreciative nod which moved as seamlessly as her blackened eyes creased in regard.

“Silvey, Commander Cody,” she acknowledged with an almost regal air and buttery tone. “Master Kenobi informed us of your arrival.”

You bit at your inner lip as a subtle twinge of an already swirling gut twisted at the raw nerves like a freshly seared burn. Though you swiftly brushed it aside, all in favor of absorbing Nala Se’s speech which echoed with congruence to this mission.

“We appreciate having another Jedi here to aid us.”

And it was a good thing you were focusing that weening attention, too, because this was certainly unexpected news.

“Another Jedi?” You questioned aloud while still supporting the movement of your lips atop businesslike breath. “This is great to hear, but, I thought I was the Jedi closest to this facil—“

“—Sectors C, F, and J are ready for transport.”

You barely caught the echo of nimble footfalls that preceded the adolescent voice which rang with a tone leveled only to communicate with clarity, yet tempered beyond any hint of vociferation.

A lick of curiosity hoisting your ears, you comfortably twisted toward the articulation’s source as Cody followed suit beside you, only for silver eyes to land upon a strangely familiar sight…

Teeth-like horns mirrored down their skull tattooed with curving lines and sharply jagged arrows.

Characteristics too similar to that unknown thing. That devil being from your dreams of weeks ago that, no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t seem to forget, even when faced with an inkling of similarity that most would not discern.

“Thank you, Mill,” The Chief Medical Officer approved as her arms crossed into a lock behind her pencil-slimmed figure.

“I’ll head to the next set as fast as I can,” Mill expressed confidently.

Yet your thoughts only mulled over that point for a short time. Because as your purposed gaze trailed across other features, like the short tuft of jet black tied just behind her head, the swirling Force encircling her nut-brown vested and ivory-robed being, and the very noticeable limitations of her stature, you quickly realized that this was the Jedi Nala Se spoke of.

But with that also came the observance that this Jedi appeared to be—

“A youngling?” Commander Cody doubted with faintly mixing unease as his hesitant stare drew the lips below into an unlatched slump.

And it was that not-so-subtle oratory that sprung the young Jedi’s button-sized orbs to bounce toward you both, remaining equally unaffected as investigative of the new presence your figures fueled into the surrounding Force.

“Master Jedi Rig Nema and her Padawan Mill Alibeth were recently assigned to this outpost as our Jedi Liason,” Nala Se explained calmly from behind your turned figure. “Although the Healer was temporarily called away a few days ago. It was urgent. I believe to an off-world battle site deemed too dangerous to bring Mill along.”

“Mill,” you expressed to the observing Jedi. “I’d be honored to help you carry out the rest of the evacuations while my Commander aids Nala Se in the remainder of the planning.”

Your straightforward regard quickly flicked both silver orbs toward Cody who was still situated at your side, earning from the attentive Commander a nodding salute to your orders before you refocused that attention on the young woman before you.

“That is,” you progressed with utmost openness. “If you’ll have me.”

Enough to tug a small smile from the Jedi’s stoically taught mouth.

“I could really use the help,” she replied honestly, which lifted your own cheeks as you broke your stance and moved toward the Jedi who stood a few meters away.

“Many of the injured need help and instructions on how to get to the shuttles,” Mill continued with an earnestness that defied the essence of her youthful voice, like a creature who's lived an entire life through glories and hardships in only a few seconds.

“It’s important to note, Silvey,” the Kaminoan opined from the center console, inciting you to halt just as you reached Mill’s being to turn toward the Chief Medical Officer’s words. “We may not have enough shuttles to evacuate the facility’s full complement.

“Let me worry about that, Silvey,” Commander Cody piped up as he shuffled beside Nala Se to take a peek at the data screen emanating below her fingers with focusing brows. “We’ll find a way to make do and get these boys to safety. We have another ship on our tail ready to board as soon as they land.”

You nodded gratefully.

“Here,” Mill cleanly expelled while leaning into a smooth yet charged pace toward the Command Center’s primary exit, leading you to follow along as you passed under that same charcoal-tinted arch into the eerily stagnant hall. “I’ll show you which sectors still need to be evacuated.”

You barely hid the subtle quirk of your lips that momentarily lifted your features as you kept your gait swiftly ahead.

Despite Commander Cody’s assumption that the Jedi careening evenly beside you was simply a Youngling, it remained a struggle to grapple with that preconceived notion. You had to admit that there were few and far between opportunities to engage with peers when you were her age, but that didn’t prevent you from surmising Mill a Being well beyond her years. Still, you tried not to consider why for too long. For no reason other than she, in some ways, reminded you of yourself during those times.

You remembered quite well the experiences you inescapably traversed to develop similar mannerisms. And beyond all else, you understood that independence born out of necessity always craved a modicum of guidance.

At least, that’s what you recalled.

And it was clear that Mill could handle it.

“Have your lightsaber ready,” you advised while the two of you careened around a sharp corner in your trek down the station’s winding passageways. “It comes in handy when you need to lead the way. Especially for large groups.”

A flurry of shuffling, pearly fabric flitted through the air as a duo of medical clones with mahogany brown boots squeaked by you both before disappearing down a left coordinator in a rush that left a slight breeze. All the while you sensed an uneven crinkle shimmy into the Force’s very own cloth as if the slightest touch tugged a loose thread.

“I don’t have one.”

Your once hurried pace drained into a muddled falter, expressive brows stitched into genuine confusion as you angled to fully face the young Jedi. At that same instant, your probing gaze tracked Mill’s depleting drive, siphoned away from a once urgent gate and into a withstanding regard of some tolerant shade. Only leaving heavily relaxed facial muscles as the framing sight from Padawan Alibeth who similarly eyed you head on.

Though you were not yet intimidated.

“Really?” You genuinely inquired, once again asking yourself whether you were showing your lack of knowledge of modern customs. “I thought the ritual of The Gathering happened when a Jedi was still in Initiatehood.”

Yet the slight but unyielding tilt of one addled brow upwards on her otherwise collected expression did thrust you back one mental step to reassess what you’d so impulsively uttered.

“You say that as if you’d not seen them yourself,” Mill expounded, a slight smile crawling up her cheeks to erase any previous hint of uncertainty. “It’s hard to miss the loud groups bouncing down the Temple halls every season.”

You mirrored her expression with a nearly tickled one of your own as you clawed onto the escape Mill had somehow so expertly plopped straight into your palm.

“I’ve been away on a very long mission that spanned on before the war began,” you casually delivered, motioning your hand in the air in place of a shrug. “I suppose it hasn’t helped me in the way of keeping up with current practices.”

You raised your head toward the corridor’s main stretch that tunneled to a turbolift, breathing in the heightened energies spattered throughout the medical station as the sensation drove you to hastily renew your step, like a starship sucking on hypermatter fuel that tugged on Mill to tag along with an invisible lure. A mixing pot of swirling anticipations of what was to come, and a general unease of impending doom that reminded you all too well of the potential conflict had against these Separatist forces if you didn’t reach the appropriate sectors soon.

You exhaled. “And it hasn’t warned me of this Galactic contest’s nature.”

“That’s why I can’t have one,” Mill quickly related, thoughtfully gripping at your attention as she kept pace with each and every step you took to reach the turbolift.

Marking too the first instant you felt a hint of misgiving tempt the flow around you.

As an almost tranquil silence bloomed between you both, you each entered the contraption’s silvery-clear aperture that swirled open at your very presence. It was evident among those slight shuffling and intermittent creaks from an overused transport system, that there were still many words Mill was leaving unsaid. Trapped inside her thoughts much like how the wall of transparisteel at the turbolift’s rear blockaded the vacuuming essence of space from your comparably flimsy forms. Still, such musings did little to stop her from selecting the correct floor on the rusted button panel, clearing the doors to shut, and initiating your leveled descent.

But it was only like that for a moment longer.

“If it’s true that you were gone for all this time, then you didn’t see what I saw,” she released quietly, eyes drilling holes into the turbolift’s aged panel as the soft buzz of its mechanics grayed the silence. “The aftermath of Geonosis. The battles that followed. Maybe you didn’t even see the HoloNet News.”

Mill shook her head with an involuntary drag, rocking her neck as a mother would a crib while the visceral words flowed from her.

“All that blood. The pain. Anguish felt through screens and wires. Through medical encampments. Those people. The ones the Order is suppose to protect. I can see it all.”

“All of it?” You questioned lightly, keeping your eyes respectfully ahead to provide a modicum of space for the young Jedi whose stirring mind was beginning to flower open.

“Each emotion for me…” she twisted her knuckles as if wringing a towel, eyes focused on the nothingness of the solid turbolift ahead. “It’s like a color that’s part of an unbalanced rainbow. And anytime one shows through the Force, I can feel it like a scream in an empty room.”

Until those same button-brown eyes rounded toward your own, burrowing into your very being.

“And every time, in some way, it’s all at the hands of a lightsaber.”

You couldn’t help but hear the distant voice of Qui-Gon Jinn echo through your skull as you absorbed Mill’s eloquent words that swiped one more shallow cut across your understanding of this strange world.

“Only use violence as a last resort, my young Padawan.”

It was clear that holobooks, well-stocked libraries, nor storied pasts would aid you now in understanding how to apply that particular guidance since you’d witnessed Hoth’s sunset for the last time.

All you’d known of the Galaxy was from fantastical holobooks describing the High Republic, but all you’ve known since crowned a Jedi Knight was violence, demise, and despair.

Deep in your bones, you still resonated with the Order’s teachings learned from your former Master and the occasional old-style book he’d bring during his visits, and of course the lightsaber’s symbol throughout history. But for the life of you, there seemed to be no way to truly reveal such truths to a being who’d clearly experienced this time of chaos far longer than you. 

“This is not the era I grew up in,” you expressed earnestly, sensing the turbolift slow as a gentle pressure built at your heels like the squeeze that threatened your throat to uncomfortably swallow. “I’m sorry, Mill, that this is what you’ve learned to associate with the Order.”

And just as quickly as those utterances escaped your lips, a dearth of words sucked the air dry.

Because there was nothing else either of you could say.

—

“Alright!” You ringingly called out from the anterior of the chilly sectional recovery hall, drawing the balloon of deep-set, chatting echoes to sputter into an empty husk. The snow-white medical beds evenly distributed against the walls with the occasional cabinet and sporadically placed stone-tinted, blocky armchairs were brimming with disparately injured clones, all of which swiftly angled their attention toward you and Mill who stood quietly by your side as she gazed out at the crowd through a subtle frown.

You tried to keep your eye on the task at hand, mentally calculating how long this evacuation would need to successfully usher out the countless heads beholding you with bated breath for orders, including the small groups that stood at attention in various pockets of the hall the instant you made yourself known. But even though the medium-sized pathway striking through the room’s core offered any flitting gaze a moment of solace from the surrounding carnage, it was not enough of a centering force for your observant mind, which fixated on those scattered, recuperating soldiers who’d so clearly been dealt an inferior hand. 

One on the far left sported a thick bandage, wrapped firmly around his corner head all the way down to the eye. And had you not once employed such an old fashioned device in your past, you would’ve thought they were all manufactured to be a crimsoned red. Much like the cuts and scrapes dispersed across visible patches of skin like paint splatter.

The flick of your eye to the room’s other far side, and you couldn’t help but rake your silver stare up and down a clone who’d scurried upwards with the aid of a dodgily constructed cane of metal scraps and angled bolts the moment your resonant voice chimed through the room. It wasn’t until he raised fully that you noticed the black ligature wrapped tightly above one of his knees, and the nothingness that remained below. It just wasn’t there.

His leg. It was gone.

And all he had left to say for it was another arm in a sling that appeared exquisitely clean against the bloodied gauze decorating the hall’s bodies and swipe-stained floors, leaving an eerie odor that only appeared in the Force as a steady pulse of yanking anguish.

Yet still he chose to stand as those with lesser injuries opted to do. To show you a respect you were beginning to wonder if you really deserved.

Though it was easy for a mind thrumming with the ebb and flow of a weighted chest to wander toward that conclusion in any regard. It was fermented more potent by the swirling uncertainty of what to do with Obi-Wan, and the guilt that pushed through the dirt like budding shrubbery.

It was exactly why you needed to accept that guilt, you reasoned. It was what you had to do to center in on the mission at hand. To prevent another lapse in focus like you did when Qui-Gon clouded your thoughts on the battlefield not so long ago.

But the crumbling wall of words that fell like boulders into a lake as they rocketed away from each exchange you shared with Obi-Wan crashed as loud in your mind as did the splash of those heavy rocks.

How are you to focus on the next mission you’re lumped together on? What of when you’re forced to discuss those parts of yourself only a handful of beings know? And when Anakin becomes the topic of discussion, and your eternal tether to him, how will you protect him by pushing his Master away?

Thrusting him away as Mill had with her chance at a lightsaber. The chance at a supporting hand. At something she needn’t fear. And a device, a piece of herself, that if she remained without, would make the trials the young Padawan was bound to face down the road much worse.

Then you were making things worse, you considered fleetingly.

And if in any way you were putting The Guardian’s mission at risk from such decisions, then maybe you really didn’t deserve the eyes of thousands of clones centered on you with an eminence of trust and respect.

But whether you earned it or not, still needed was this attention that accompanied the title of General to lead them to safety.

“Sectors K, L, and M,” you announced with a tight core, reaching your hand to your belt as you wrapped your fingers around the attached saber’s cold hilt.

Springing it free with a whoosh and empowering its gray luminescence to blind the air above you, you displayed its heated might before the hundreds of heads that seemed like mere dots within the six-story ship bay that was converted into a sort of field recovery station, towering in height and breadth beyond some of the larger ships you’d become acquainted with this past month and a half.

“We are evacuating the facility. I want Group 1, all able-bodied clones, to line up in the middle,” you projected, cutting your saber down center for all to clearly see as those who fell into the category sprung or lumbered to their feet with a steadily bustling clamor. “Group 2, men who are unable to move on their own, remain where you are.”

You waited a few moments, allowing these soldiers with patches for wound dressings, injuries dealt to less severe locations, and minimally broken or dislocated bones to bustle toward the central stream against squeaking floors before, handful by handful, the mass of gray-clothed patients turned forward in staggered arrays, most patiently awaiting their next command as whispers flowed by the line like sand through fingers.

“Now,” you began loudly, gesturing between the two groups with your brightly buzzing lightsaber as the mumblings dissipated. “Everyone partner with a person in the other group. Individuals in Group 2 who are unconscious or are otherwise completely bedridden will need two soldiers from Group 1 to take them out on a Hover Stretcher,” you confirmed with two raised fingers.

“Um, Silvey?”

You quickly glanced at Mill’s nervously stitched brows, eager eyes just as distended as her mouth with a battery of words stuck at the tip of her tongue. “We don’t have any more Hover Stretchers.”

It seemed this facility was running low on many necessary supplies during such a frantic evacuation, you marked internally.

Alright, you readily accepted. You’ve dealt with worse.

Your neck flicked back toward Group 1’s already parting sea as the endless line of clones split off to either side of the hall in search of a partner, morphing a once relatively uniform line into an expanding blob of varied, struggled movement.

“No more Hover Stretchers!” You exclaimed swiftly. “Use the bed sheets, or carry them if you have to. Make your way out through the South Entrance in a single file line.”

Raising your saber once more down the middle, you signaled the appropriate exit at the other end of the transformed ship bay.

“Move!”

With a deep breath, you disengaged your saber, keeping your gaze alert while returning it back to your belt with a metallic snap.

“Don’t worry,” Mill expressed calmly, dragging your vigilant survey away from the slingshotting voices reverberating off bordering panels that surrounded clones in various stages of gradually hooking arms with compatriots and carrying each other to the far wall. “We’ll get them all out.”

“I know, Mill,” you smiled gently, warming at her intrinsic compassion while tilting your eyes back toward the swarming clones to assess their progress as a handful began to exit through the South Entrance. “We’re doing well on numbers. I know you’d tell me if we weren’t.”

“Then why are you feeling… regretful?”

Your neck snapped toward the young Jedi, a flood of questions desperately trying to manifest through your features as you held the flood bag with a simply raised brow and a smile faded into tensed lips.

Not Master Jedi, not even a Grand Master, but a Padawan Learner? A Padawan learner was the first to sense a hint of what your mind autonomously hid in the Force? You knew for a fact that your countenance failed to divulge the deep harboring of such an emotion that you were still trying to discern as such.

“You can sense what I’m feeling?” You questioned, perplexed.

“Usually, I can sense a range with groups and people,” she began matter-of-factly, tensed brown eyes swaying toward the buzzing clones before you both. “But yours are pretty clouded. The only reason I can sense that one is because it’s pretty strong.”

Perhaps Mill Alibeth was not only a wise, but a powerful Jedi. And while you certainly sensed a stronger glow in her connection with the Force than others her age that you’ve encountered at the Temple, such a reading remained a speck of sand in an ocean when compared to the Masters who’ve tried again and again to dissect your mind.

Meaning one thing and one thing only.

Something must have changed.

Though what, you had no idea.

A charged yowl cracked through the air like the blast of a horn, reverberating down the hall as a noticeable thump sounded from the same general location before chasing after the dissipating cry into the void.

Your neck snapped toward the tumult’s direction before quickly discovering that the hastening throng of clones rushing past each other to pair up and race for the exit clogged your view of the wider hall from where you stood. Even as you tried to focus your mind on the beings around you, hoping to pinpoint the pain of that cry through the Force to find the afflicted’s position, you struggled to parse through the torrential flood of indistinguishable trauma that clouded your mind as much as your eyes.

Anguish. Agony. Fear. Vexation.

All eddying into a tempest of incomprehensible noise, like pouring every color known to the universe into one bucket of black hole goop.

“This way!” Mill suddenly shouted, grabbing your wrist to tug you along as she sprinted into the crowd.

Your feet caught up to the sudden charge, falling in step with the young Jedi’s hurried pace before she released your arm so that you both could navigate the thicker junctions of the whisking horde. All the while you took particular care in keeping an eye on the small, nut-brown cloak hanging off her back so as not to lose her darting figure in the crowd.

Arms snapped up against your shoulders and torsos collided with your arms while flying commands seemed to cultivate either eardrum as a doorway for the indiscernible racket, leaving you no choice but to adapt to the unstoppable swarm. With each duck and shimmy, you eventually settled into a rhythm through each twist and turn of the crowd. Waves of streaming bodies that crashed into interlocked, haphazard footpaths steered your figure through a slew of precise dodges, all the while you found your focused eye unintentionally memorizing the marginally bobbing hood of Mill’s robe so not to misplace her in the masses. And it was the exact instant that you realized such an intense stare had nearly burned the chaotic rush into your retinas, that the young Jedi finally burst through an opening in the rabble of soldiers fueling gusts of injured groans and strident cries amongst stampeding boots which plunged behind you once the horde finally spit you out.

Your silver eyes adjusted to the far emptier space hugging the hall’s right wall: a handful of medical beds mostly unoccupied and disarrayed with sheets crumpled and tossed asunder from the rapid charge of this evacuation.

That was, except for one bunk on which a clone lay curled into themselves, one hand firmly clutching their leg. Crying out, teeth bare to the ceiling with such might his torment was sure to break right through. It was certainly enough to heighten the two clones who frantically bent over to asses him from either side, wondering aloud through their countenance alone what to do and how to make the awful noise stop.

“What happened?” You pressed firmly, lips depressing into a thin line while you slowed at Mill’s side as the aura of his suffering inked the Force’s everlasting stream with an unavoidable, pounding strikes.

The left soldier spoke with a rich tone as his bushy eyebrows and speckled beard dimmed in anticipation of his own words.

“We tried to move him and his mechnosutures snapped.”

At the same time, you watched as the convulsing clone’s hand slipped from their inner thigh, revealing a deep crimsoned gash that spurted a miniature fountain of blood the instant its spout was uncapped. Splattering the outspoken clone still hunched to his left with a healthy spray across his gray tunic in the injured man’s effort to roll off the cot.

Your eyes widened, the sudden gush which consumed your vision ramming your legs into a full sprint before propelling you to nearly leap atop the gravely wounded man as you jammed two fingers into the humid cavity to cork the leak.

“Mill!” You called over your shoulder as you struggled to find and hold the bleed that oozed past your fingers with a steady, warm pulse. “Bacta spray!”

“We’re all out on this side of the station, sir!” The right clone sporting a young, bare face interjected just as Mill darted to your side.

“It’ll take too long for any one of us to make that trip,” the opposite soldier noted, brushing any remnant cerise droplets from his deep-stained shirt as he rose to his full height. “And he’s in no condition to be moved.”

You briskly sorted through your years of survivalism and relevant readings that supported your life of Hoth, gravely considering each and every option at your disposal to save this clone as his cries galloped after each other in their echoing race into the ether.

Because, despite the rapidly declining seconds you had left to solve a femoral artery bleed, you knew it was still more time than you had to save Getter.

It was still time in which you could do something.

No Bacta Spray, so perhaps a tourniquet.

“I need a thin rod and some bandages,” you spouted urgently. “Do we have anything like that?”

“There aren’t any medical supplies in this section at all,” Mill clarified nervously, rubbing her wrist as she briskly spoke. “The recovery rooms ran out of supplies last week. We were still in the process of transferring the new supply delivery throughout the facility when Nala Se ordered the evacuation.”

“I could give you my shirt,” the scruffy soldier suggested, pointing at his blood-soaked garment. “But I don’t know where we’ll find you any sticks.”

“Bandages alone won’t work,” you audibly exhaled, feeling the steady throb that would easily cut through a simple cloth.

“What about your lightsaber?” The cloaked Jedi inquired, pointing at the delicately hanging device strapped to your belt.

“Unfortunately, I need something thin,” you explained, eyes rapidly scanning your surroundings for anything even close to what you needed. “My lightsaber is too—“

You paused.

You hesitated because, with that comment, Mill may have certainly saved this man’s life.

But you knew from experience that this was going to really, really hurt.

“Men,” you ejected forcefully past the icy chill running down every nerve in your body, reaching your free palm to clasp the saber and disconnecting it with a clink from your side. 

“Hold him down.”

A steady thrum of timorous buzzes flickered into the Force to the left, luring your outwardly mollified gaze toward the apprehensive Jedi beside you who watched on with ever-widening eyes.

“You’re right, Mill,” you quietly expressed, redirecting your attention to the task with a gaze that lowered just as deliberately as your body fell into a deeper crouch beside the bedridden man whose entire life relied on the thread plugged by a few fingers.

Though your words seemed to crack her restless daze in half as she whipped her head toward you, short ponytail flying after the sudden movement.

“You’re right, that a lightsaber can harm,” you softly continued, flicking on the weighty device with a shockingly bright drone that emanated between you and the young Jedi, reflecting in her brown eyes like a distant star.

“It can kill with ease,” you gradually moved the weapon through the air, allowing its buzz to vibrate through the atmosphere as the hall’s glaring light reflected its hilt. “Elicit misery out of those who least expect it.”

You returned your conflicted stare back to the disoriented man stuck beneath your digits, neck twisting in and out of consciousness too rapidly to permit any awareness of where his miracle cure was coming from.

It was probably best that way.

Because, either way, this needed to happen. 

And it was that very notion that finally put into words what you’ve always felt about the Jedi’s most holy artifact. What you knew was true but struggled to explain to this Padawan all the same.

Until now.

“But you’re also right, Mill, that this same weapon will save him.”

You hovered the saber above the delirious clone’s wriggling form, held moderately still by the two soldiers on either side of him who seemed equally displeased with where this was going.

“It will be the opportunity to live another day. A healing energy to save the desperate. A bright light in the darkness.”

You paused, lowering the weapon to your side for just a moment, fingers still firmly held against the wound as you turned toward Mill as wholly as possible. Capturing her cautious gaze with your own meaningful stare.

“Because they aren’t good, and they aren’t bad, they just… are.”

You glared at its metallic shaft, crafted with great care and precision during your trip with Qui-Gon to Illum to collect your Kyber crystal. You observed its checkered black grip that snaked up the whole of the hilt, an intentional design you implemented to increase its resilience to Hoth’s cold nights. The triangular-shaped dent in the blade emitter from a particularly nasty run-in with a Wampa bite a few years back. The small puncture at the hand grip’s base, chinked by those pirates who stole it off you ages ago.

“They are their own Master,” your lips quirked gently. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

You peaked at Mill whose intent stare swirled with a galaxy of evolving thoughts, chest rising and falling through each breath solely motivated by comprehending your meaning.

“I alone can decide the purpose my lightsaber serves.”

You exhaled rigidly, circling toward the man clinging to life on the cot before you as you lifted the saber above his puncture once more with clenched teeth.

“And I choose to heal.”

With a heedfulness akin to threading a star cruiser through a pinprick-sized wormhole, you sunk the tip of the saber down toward the gash. Recoiling your blood-soaked fingers just as its gray luminance touched down on the spouting artery.

An overlapping murmur of groans from one chapped mouth swelled into a jarring shriek of intolerable magnitude as his vocal cords rawed at the sputtering roar. Saturating the Force with an incessant burden that threatened to collapse your sternum under its simultaneously consuming, draining anchor.

The scent of charred flesh smoked your nostrils as you observed pools of blood begin to blacken a charcoal brown alongside the bordering skin. And in that instant, you didn’t need to use your eyes to sense the young Jedi beside you shoot her hand to her forehead, clutching it fiercely as her eyes squeezed shut with a stinging gasp.

But soon, a subsiding energy overcame that temporary darkness that plagued the nearby Force Sensitives, like releasing a muscle strained into one, sun-beaten position for hours. It arrived with the shaky exhale that flickered past the maimed clone’s settling lips. Along with a sudden relief that oozed from his figure and infected his fellow comrades with similarly soothing sentiments.

“He has more time now,” you swallowed with sharp eyes pointed at the bordering clones as you rose to your feet. “Now get him out of here.”

The soldiers stood at the ready, acknowledging your request before promptly moving toward either side of the injured clone so to follow that very order.

“Yes, Sir!”

“Silvey,” Mill voiced while meeting your stance as the soldiers before you twisted the ends of the bedsheet in their fists to create a makeshift Hover Stretcher.

You eyed the Padawan whose conflicted gaze and curled brows twisted her jaw through a holobook of responses before settling on one that seemed to burst through all the others as a cough would stifle conversation.

“Now we’re running out of time.”

—

“It looks as though Skywalker has failed. He’s lost almost half his ships!”

The head Medical Clone’s vehemently unsettled tone aimed at Nala Se whipped past your ears in its journey as you and Mill led the last group of clones through the frantic energies swirling through the Command Center. It happened to house the getaway hatch to the last escape shuttle on board the medical station, beside your clone squad’s extra shuttle which had already been filled to capacity. And all that meant was that you were bound to receive an update on the battle unfolding beyond its walls whether you liked it or not.

Either way, your focus remained on leading the small batch of five to seven soldiers to the hatch’s entrance, one of which whose shattered kneecap obligated that an arm hung rigidly over your shoulders as you supported his weight through those final few limps.

And that was certainly not doing wonders for your own recently healed leg.

The Kaminoan’s advisor sighed drearily beside Commander Cody who watched on with an analytical gape over to your left as the advisor continued. “We should go, Madam.”

One more step and you reached the small, square hatch that stood from the floor no taller than your waist. Quickly scanning its side panel, you motioned for the other clone beside you to scoop his own grip under the injured clone’s armpit, enabling you to gently release him into his comrade’s company. Soon you accepted the lifting of that digging pressure as permission to drop down to the dingy panel clasped to the door so to input the release override.

“I will stay,” Nala Se tranquilly expressed as she turned to address the Lead Medical Clone.

“That won’t be in the clones’ best interests,” you cautioned swiftly, rising to your feet as the hatch whirred open behind you amidst a high-pitched beep and fogged-over emitter that struggled out dulled, red wisps. “You and your team should leave with this escape shuttle. The others will need someone to help coordinate the care for those more injured. More so than before considering the evacuation exacerbated their conditions.”

You observed with the corner of your eye as, one by one, the line of clones dropped to their knees so to shimmy through the tight-fitting hatch, aided by Mill who remained at each of their sides to support along those more mangled through the ingress. All throughout Nala Se’s carefully hidden hesitation fruitlessly defied your shrewd gaze.

“Silvey’s right, Madam,” Cody assuredly reminded. “With this last group, all the patients will have been evacuated. There’s no point in staying to find out what the other end of that giant Ion Cannon looks like when we already know it’ll kill life support and seal the escape hatches with the power surge.”

And despite the subtle rumblings of uncertainty that the Kaminoan frothed through the Force’s otherwise steady stream, the disappearance of the final soldier’s booted foot through the getaway hatch in combination with Cody’s loyal support of your stance seemed to sway her to respond.

“I will follow your guidance, Master Silvey.”

“Alright clones,” Cody called out while spinning around to the remaining staff furiously typing away at their stations, some standing like a string tugged at their tailbones while they moved through screens of defensive data as if to punch in one last key before being yanked away like a loose puppet. “Drop what you’re doing and load on that shuttle.”

The Commander calmly angled back toward Nala Se as the strings snapped and the puppets scurried free, his arm unfurling into a pointed finger toward the hatch entrance behind you.

“This way, Madam,” he instructed while the towering Kaminoan offered a gradually angled nod of acknowledgment.

You observed as the two of them cooly strolled forward with the Lead Medical Officer in his professional garb inching behind, all amidst the rushing forms and swiping legs of her remaining team shutting off workstation permissions before they made their final, fleeing departure.

Until the flinging movement of a small shape rising upwards caught the corner of your eye, all while an unexpected coolness invaded the Force from your left.

“I sense pain.”

You glanced strangely at Mill’s sudden revelation, taking in her crinkled eyelids while the nerves that twisted around her facial markings pulsed in concentration, palm cradling her vein-pulsed forehead.

“What is it, Mill?”

“There’s someone still here,” she coerced through crunching teeth. “Someone we forgot. They’re below us somewhere. Like a red blob.”

You caught the break of Nala Se’s once steady step from the corner of your eye, tugging at your gaze to serve her patent dithering with your full attention as if caught in the crossfires of a blaster bolt. Even the Commander seemed to take note of the acknowledging release of breath escaping your lips while he simultaneously focused on guiding the last few stragglers away from their stations with firm commands of “let’s go” and “leave it be.”

“Don’t worry,” you clearly conveyed to both Jedi and doctor before focusing your mind on the younger one’s concentrating gaze.

But, even with a turned head, your intrinsic intertwinement with the Force made it impossible to ignore the watchful eye of Commander Cody who reserved a slice of regard for you that more than tinted the everlasting stream.

“Mill, I’m counting on you to ensure this last group’s successful evacuation: Nala Se’s team and the patients in the escape shuttle. Work with Commander Cody. He will help yo—“

“But what about you?” She fiercely interrupted.

Cody finally cut in, “Silv—“

“—I’m going to get that soldier,” you promptly established as you twisted your neck toward the second-in-command who eyed you with oddly laden disquiet, firmed torso communicating the same inevitability to the young Jedi as well.

The words barely escaped your lips as you stormed toward the overhanging archway exit that would swallow you back into the space station’s bowels, heels fully contacting the metallic floor with each step to avoid any other objections of the matter with the all-to-familiar rhythmic clang.

But still, as the final swarm of clones swiveled around you like a parting sea to navigate toward the rear escape hatch, a light-footed figure seemed to cross that distance twice as fast with another heavier-set bunch clad in chaffing milky armor converging from the opposite angle.

“Silvey!” Mill called, swinging around to your side as you swiftly straddled your stride to avoid knocking over her fleeting form.

“I wanted to say… thank you,” she continued, the hint of a sigh crawling along her words as Cody’s striding figure levied its last few steps toward your right.

You quirked a brow at the young Padawan while stretching out a soft hand in signal of Cody to slow in wait. And you sensed him do as you willed, stuttering his gait to a halt like a ripple in the flow surrounding you as your head tilted with a slight curiosity amidst Cody’s respective silence. Still, your muscles stood taught as you prepared to sprint to the station’s lower levels at a moment's notice. Though even then it was a task to derive your focus away from Mill’s big brown eyes which churned with a form of tempered contemplation you’d not quite seen on the young girl before.

“—for showing me the bigger picture,” she continued in another breath, eyes levied at the ground as she worked through tumbling thoughts. “Anytime I felt pain I only saw it for what it was. Something uncomfortable. Something black and white. I didn’t see that some pain could be needed to heal. To do good.”

Mill’s hair flicked to the side as her chin swung back up toward yours with brows raised in relief.

“But saving a life makes it worth it.”

You remained with a steady gaze, relaxing your arms as shoulders released into an attentive expression that urged her to go on.

But with pursed lips that yelled move quickly.

“All this time,” she caught on with a push of breath. “When the Masters said that a Jedi’s life is sacrifice, I thought they meant what we were losing in this war. But it’s not that at all, is it?”

She got it.

You gently smiled.

“It’s what we go through, what we help others go through, to save them.”

Her brows crinkled into a conclusive regard that strained to loosen with the last three words she uttered.

"It’s our pain.”

You allowed for one more minute pause so her thoughts could settle before responding with your chin pointed teasingly downward, eliciting a warm tone.

“You’ll need a tool for that.”

Her lips settled upwards.

“The next Gathering is in a few months.”

And with an approving nod, you took off toward the archway once more. But not before swiveling into a backward pace with Cody following determinedly along so to relay one last piece of guidance that you nudged the young Jedi to carry with her through a gliding tone alone.

“May the Force be with you, Mill. Always.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cody began not a second later as Mill sprinted back toward the escape hatch while you whirled through the archway, the Commander hot on your heels.

“We’re running out of time, Cody,” you implied as you leaned into a jog that he so aptly followed with an armor-laden trot of his own. “I need you to follow orders.”

He spoke plainly, “I am following orders.”

“Well they aren’t mine,” you relayed through a sarcastic twinge that seemed to reach your not-so-healed leg under the weight of a running form.

“General Kenobi instructed me to keep an eye on you if this mission got dicey.”

Of course he did, you internally objected.

Yet you also couldn’t help the fleeting thought that Obi-Wan was jumping through hoops to ensure your safety while you avoided him at all costs.

And if Mill had the courage to take on the Gathering, to face that pain, then you must have, somewhere, in some deep crevice, some semblance of bravery to make allies of those who were sure to aid you in your sole mission.

Starting with that blue-eyed, bearded man.

But you couldn’t worry about that right now.

There was a life at stake.

You twisted on your heel toward the determined soldier, placing a firm hand on his shoulder as he ebbed to a stop against its resistance, stark chestnut orbs wrestling with the notion of failing to follow his General’s orders before your very eyes.

But Obi-Wan wasn’t always right.

“You will only slow me down,” you relayed earnestly, gradually lowering your arm when it was clear the clone’s attention was fully on you. “Jedi have a way of moving quicker and bringing you along will only threaten that man’s chances. If you want to help me, go make sure that shuttle leaves with everyone on it. You’ll still be following orders.”

The soldier’s lips parted ever so slightly as he took in your words, only to clasp shut while the commander’s mind accepted that you were, unfortunately, correct in your calculations.

Even with a sorely palpitating leg.

Still, it was clear from tensely pursed lips and only a brief glance over his shoulder at the command center that the loyal man had one more thing on his mind.

“What about you?” He inquired, confusion etching across his brows.

Your cheeks lightened.

“You’d know better than I, Commander,” you teased. “I distinctly remember you mentioning the handful of scattered single escape pods still located on the lower levels from when VenteX’s constructors needed a plan B during a plasma leak.”

The Commander’s eyes rounded in remembrance as an air of approval dusted off his subsequent nod. “Good catch, Silvey.”

He took a few strides to his rear, angling to jog back toward the Command Center as the determined man left you with one final promise.

"I’ll see you on the other side of this.”

And you certainly planned to keep that appointment.

But that meant drawing on the Force’s all-encompassing existence to guide your way.

You closed your eyes, reaching out your fingers to feel its comforting endlessness energize your veins like a tingling drone as you leaned into a sprint. Its volume remained gentler than the weeks of past, almost reminding you of the calming expanse on Hoth. With a medical station nearly void of life, there wasn’t much to upset its delicate balance as you sensed the escape shuttle’s hatch spin closed with a twist far behind you to secure in the last of the escapees. It enabled your mind to focus intensely on any indications of a disturbance. Whether that be dodging a wall to turn a corner or thoughtlessly punching in floor levels inside turbo lift after turbo lift as you attempted to sense this being lost in an endless array of intertwined hallways and rooms.

Until, while traversing alongside towering walls of precariously placed, foggy cargo containers held within one of the station’s high-ceiling storage lots, you suddenly felt it.

Your eyes slammed open.

A dull jolt in the everlasting stream, pulling at its ripples like a confused animal, and, from what you gleamed, located somewhere alongside the far wall that was sectioned into outstretched viewports inviting in the expanse’s brightest stars. Though those specks of white were vastly overshadowed by the eloquently zipping fighters whose choreographed dips and dashes pirouetted amongst a swarm of red blaster bolts, painting the Galaxy’s complexion with streaming tears of blood. Yet the source of her sobs, no matter how large her function, remained out of sight.

Your feet peddled through the sweeping repository with greater haste, bringing you mere yards from the transparisteel separating beings from the blackness beyond when you heard to your left a tenuous groan leak from its creator.

Your head swiveled toward the sound as a weakening malaise perfumed your senses.

Trapped underneath a lofty cargo container inscribed with gray geometric lines of Basic was the whole right arm of an older clone that maintained a graying beard and sported the brown garb of a supplier logistics technician. The side of his ribs pressed against the floor with intense pressure as he wrestled to shimmy the limb free from its metallic captor, teeth grinding into nubs from the striking pain of likely broken bones shattering still. An electrocuting sensation traveling down legs that dragged at the floor in an attempt to break himself free. Enough so that you caught wind of the oddly twisted placement of an ankle which flopped limply from the thrashes.

Without a second thought, you rushed toward the clone, arm outstretched as you landed on your knees to hold his chilly one still.

“Hold on!” You expelled while your mind tapped into the surrounding stream, allowing you to guide its energies into yourself as you focused your crumpled brows on nudging the container through the outstretched fingers of your free hand.

"You should get out of here, Sir,” the clone expressed through a weak huff.

The large box sharply groaned with a slight shake as you gasped through tense lips at its noticeable heft, fingers curling tighter until its vibrations evolved into the crackling pop of the container losing traction with the ground. Not by much, just a few inches at most, but enough for you to shimmy his arm out from underneath the lifeless beast’s grasp as utterances of excruciating cries and relief-drenched pants shot out of the man’s mouth and ricocheted across the echoing chamber.

The graying clone rolled on his back, cradling the damaged arm with squeezed eyes as he allowed the waves of salient affliction to wash over him while you stumbled back to catch your breath.

“Yes, I should,” you aired breathily as you bent down to help the injured man with a palm under each armpit, hoisting him up high enough to rest a good arm around your shoulder amidst protesting grunts so to limp him a few feet forward. “Now shut up and move, soldier.”

“Yes, Sir,” the weary clone moaned with a subtle shadow of ease as he hobbled through one lumbering step after another, digging into your shoulder with each footfall while you held the majority of his weight firm amidst a damaged ankle likely broken when the cargo container fell.

And for a brief instant, despite the significant setback spawned by the discovery of a severely inured clone, and the increasing pressure on your vibrating leg, you thought that the two of you had a pretty good chance of making it out of here, given that one of the escape pods you’d gleaned from the medical station’s blueprints was on this very level, in one of the inner hallways just a few turns away.

That was, until the staticky pop of your wrist comm buzzed to life with the sound of a familiar yet resistantly tense voice crackling through its speaker.

“Silv— Sil—vey. Come —in. Silvey—, are — there?”

You stretched your dominant hand toward your opposite shoulder, answering the call through a tap to the answering button without losing your grip on the saddling soldier.

“Anakin, I hear you.” You acknowledged forcefully with another step forward toward the storage repository’s sweeping, double-door exit that you carefully eyed a dozen meters away. “The weapon is causing some interference. We’re about to depart. What is it?”

“You nee— out of there! Not s— can’t— hol— —off”

A tingling eeriness ignited in the Force to your rear.

You spun back around toward the storage area’s rear wall of geometric viewports only to glimpse a dash of electrifying purple sparks rotate into the far left segment’s view amidst the endless streaks of red cuts into the Galaxy’s inky fold. A massive, circular charge that revved as the face of the expansive, shark-like ship Malevolence threatened with a roaring breath to blow away any chance you or this clone had for survival.

You remembered what Cody said. One strike from that destructive weapon would shut off the escape hatch releases you’d been relying on for your escape. And with all other systems offline, it would effectively annihilate any life left on board.

This was going to be a problem.

Until a swarm of marching fighters swung into view, veering about one big loop through and out the cannon’s neck as one after another launched an explosive, fiery torpedo that streamed into its wide gullet, supplying a smoky black beard that puffed outwards from the consecutive detonations as the beast’s electrifying, violet mouth roused wider at the provocation.

And just when you thought that the deadly spit of this wild creature would consume your vision, a wide array of clustering, rumbling copper blasts pimpled the shark’s decelerating form, caking the surrounding space with blotches of a wider, billowing smog. An apt fireworks show to welcome the arrival of several Republic warships that swung in from hyperspace within mere seconds like the flying bolts of before that now laid dormant.

“Anakin, do you copy?"

The firmly smooth yet urgent undertones of Obi-Wan’s voice broke through the speaker with an abrupt clarity that snapped your thoughts back into the present, empowering you to recognize that Anakin’s team foiled the imminent threat. You released tensed shoulders that had tightened at the height of this ordeal, enough so to liberate the older clone’s arm from your grasp. You leaned your chest toward the floor as his weight reclined against your back, sliding his arm across your wingspan in order to better grasp each armpit all to gradually lower his form down to rest against a few cargo containers stacked to your left.

“I’m here,” Anakin acknowledged, his transmission having audibly improved as you rose back to your full height to face the viewports once more, feeling the deep sting of a leg that appeared to have seen too much action a moment too early. “And Silvey is too. From the station.”

A flicker of white noise. Hushes of circuits and wires that marked General Kenobi’s line as open. Yet, in those few seconds, no words traveled across its waves from the lead warship drifting comfortably at a distance that characterized its structure as a miniature figurine.

Still, it was enough of a lull to catch your notice with the elicitation of a slumping sensation in your gut as your stretching senses reached through trained eyes to get just a glimpse of the damage you’d begun to realize you’d done.

Though your sight could never reach that far.

“Well,” he started with a bump. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright. Thanks to the success of Anakin’s mission. Congratulations.”

“Partially, but Grievous is still alive,” Anakin corrected just as swiftly as Obi-Wan spoke, though rumination deepened his tone. “The battle was pretty rough on my men. We’re heading for the medical station.”

Grievous…

It was clear he posed a threat. Not just to the Republic’s success in this war, but to Anakin too if these violent exchanges were to continue. The Chosen One and his entire team were nearly killed at his order.

And, to you, that was unacceptable.

You understood the Masters’ weariness which governed the decision to separate you and Anakin on the battlefield. You really did. Lest your proximity allow the enemy to discover your connection, and by association, your eternal mission. But you’d do no good in fulfilling those responsibilities when stationed so far from Skywalker’s battlefield skirmishes.

It was time to take matters into your own hands, it seemed. Because while it had been a little while since you last spoke with Master Windu, you were positive that neither he nor Master Yoda himself would approve of you joining Anakin on his next mission.

No matter, you knew you had to anyway.

It was time to finally fulfill your responsibilities as The Chosen One’s Guardian.

And, maybe then, you could address the mistakes you were beginning to realize you’d made in your friendship with Obi-Wan.

Maybe then, you could face your fears in stride like Mill Alibeth, in hopes of a better future.

“I’ll remain here to help with the return efforts and the injured,” you justified succinctly, unintentionally dipping into the professional drone you’d so expertly habitualized in conversations with the bearded Jedi these past few weeks.

It would also be worth having your leg looked at, you internalized.

But that thought flitted away as another shimmer of peppery nothingness filled the airways with empty feedback.

Yet this time, out of the automative choir that filled your eardrums, you felt a tenuous lug in the Force’s most inner threads, drawing a sliver of confusion to crinkle across your brows as you perceived this foreign sensation not only emanate from within you, but from a distance too far to pinpoint.

“Stay if you must,” he uttered. "Not all paths need to run side-by-side, after all.”

The sarcastic lilt of his mechanically transmitted voice tugged at the cogs of your mind, but not staunchly enough to process the Jedi’s meaning before his cogent air collided with your eardrums once more.

 “Perhaps I’ve asked too much of you.”

You felt your cheeks chill an icy warmth as your body tried to reckon with the blood escaping to flood your features, synapses snapping with an equal potency of guilt and unease that threatened to spin the temperature of your ligaments into endless dials.

“But don’t worry,” he quickly finished while redirecting a more sanguine vocalization toward his former Padawan with the succinctness of a head turn. "we’ll call you when we need you.”

As you felt Anakin’s awkward hesitation from a filler word loosely pass across his comm line and directly into your very bones, you came to the solemn acceptance that the damage you’d chipped and chipped into existence this past week, was done.

And just as briskly, your motivation to mend your mistakes dissipated into the ether along with Anakin’s final sign-off.

“We’ll be waiting, Obi-Wan.”

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[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 8

Words: 1.3k (Shorter chapter than normal) Warnings: None that I can think of ... sorry to the Wolffe fans out there, he's really having a tough time of it. Pronouns Used: She/Her, Use of (Y/N).

“You did what?” asked Fox, needing to be sure he’d heard Wolffe’s explanation correctly. “You’re lucky it was just her com she yeeted and not you along with it,” he added, a serious tone to his brotherly voice. Soon enough, a sigh escaped his lips; the paperwork involved would be torture, and on top of that, there was little doubt the Coruscant Guard would be charged with finding the now missing Jedi.

“You’re not helping,” growled Wolffe, once again confronted with his conflicted feelings. The kiss hadn’t been intended yet; still, it haunted him more than anything prior to it; the words he’d spoken after weren’t any better. He thought he’d been relieved she was gone, but instead, he felt even more guilt than before. He’d hurt her perhaps even worse than those a part of her past had.

“I wasn’t trying to,” simply replied Fox.

“What are you doing?”

“Contacting General Kenobi and Skywalker; if anyone’s gonna find her outside General Plo, it’s those two,” spoke Fox, setting himself on the immediate task of finding the missing Night Sister. After all, he knew the fear others had; he knew others were scared she’d one day turn back to her dark side roots.

“I’ll help,” Wolffe volunteered, feeling the need to correct his mistakes, even if that meant sacrificing what little downtime he had. “The boys are fond and won’t rest until she’s found.”

“You’ve done enough,” harshly responded Fox. Although it was instantly clear he regretted them, he still did nothing to soothe the situation. “The Jedi are afraid, Wolffe. (Y/N), is the daughter of a Sith lord. They’re afraid she’ll rebound and turn back to her roots,” explained the Marshall Commander, revealing just a little bit of what he knew. “They’re afraid if she falls to the dark side, she’ll become far worse than Dooku; after all, she was more of a reason to hate some of them.”

“More of a reason?” Wolffe asked, once again suspecting there was more to her history than met the eye. Plo had hinted at it on several occasions when one of the boys asked, and several other Jedi had, too, even if (Y/N) herself dodged or changed the subject when it was brought up.

“Let's just say most of the Jedi Council monumentally failed her,” said Fox in response, recalling when he’d stumbled across the information, it had been with things sent over from the Chancellor's office. When Fox had questioned it, the answer had come from the Chancellor himself, making it clear the information hadn’t been put in there by accident but to prepare the Guard in case anything happened. “She trusts them even less than they trust her.”

“Commanders,” politely interrupted Obi-Wan. Anakin was at his side with his own Padawan. Just behind them were Commander Cody and Captain Rex, and both of them appeared prepared for the task likely already set before them. “Master Plo will be joining us shortly,” announced the Jedi Master, a soothing tone to his voice, although he was momentarily distracted by Anakin. No doubt he was attempting to sense (Y/N) if only to make the search that little bit easier.

“She’s still on the planet, although making it difficult to track,” spoke Anakin, quickly determining she was likely using her own power to block him and anyone else who attempted to track her via the force.

“Sorry to interrupt; I’ve sent a message to her unit. One of them is a tracker,” called Cody, recalling working with the elite unit before. They were unpredictable but effective. They got the job done no matter how dangerous it was and always seemed to have fun while doing it; the more threat to life, the more competition there was between them. “They’re young and reckless, but they’re loyal to her.”

“What caused (Y/N) to run?” asked Ahsoka, noting that it was out of the ordinary for any Jedi to hide unless they were given the order to. Although even she would admit, (Y/N) did seem to have more freedoms than a normal Jedi Knight would. She got away with far more, including ignoring direct orders from the council, so much so they had come to expect it from her.

“The past, Snips,” replied Anakin, suspecting that Maul's recent reappearance had triggered memories and feelings she had spent over a decade trying to push away and bury. Brought the hurtful past, she’s tried to run from bubbling back to the surface. “For over a decade, she believed her father was gone, only for him to reappear and be on the warpath. She’s lost, conflicted, torn between who she was and who she wants to be,” he explained, knowing her trouble; he’d be the same if his mother suddenly came back from the dead. Like (Y/N), he hadn’t let go of his past; he couldn’t; instead, like her, he’d buried it.

“Either way, we must find her fast,” said Obi-Wan, recalling the recent council meeting. The latest intelligence had only brought forth concerning news. While Maul was on a revenge tour against those who wronged him in the past, Savage searched for (Y/N), no doubt, to reunite father and daughter again—or at least unite what remained of the bloodline. “We won’t be the only ones looking for her.”

“It would be best if we split into groups,” announced Plo upon his arrival, his voice calm and even as normal. “Commander Fox, go with Ahsoka and (Y/N)’s enhanced unit; search the lower levels around where she was last seen,” he added, suspecting (Y/N) would be far more open to being found by Ahsoka than any other Jedi. “Skywalker, take your captain and a small group of the 501st, search the underworld levels, Obi-Wan, the upper levels, around the old factories. I’ll take the Wolf pack and search her old hiding spots.”

“I don’t think I’ll be that much help, General,” voiced Wolffe, his miss-matched eyes downcast now. “I’m the reason she ran away in the first place. Me being involved in the search will only anger her further,” he added with regret flooding his voice; he could still remember the hope fading in her eyes; the image had all but burnt itself into his memory now as if a means to torment him further and punish him for his stupidity.

“On the contrary, Commander, you were the last person to see her, outside the civilians who offered tips to her whereabouts. Whether you hurt her or not doesn’t matter; finding her before she becomes any more vulnerable does,” spoke Plo, speaking as if a father rather than a Jedi. He knew (Y/N) had let her hurt, anger, and feelings of betrayal out on Wolffe, but he’d not be the sole reason for it. For years, she’d struggled with her past and overwhelming feelings; Wolffe’s words had just been the breaking point. “You are not to blame for (Y/N) going into hiding. I doubt she blames you, either.”

“We’ll rendezvous here in a few hours; in the meantime, keep in communication,” spoke Obi-Wan, suspecting the task at hand would be far more difficult than either of them wanted to admit. After all, few could sense how (Y/N) felt when she was a padawan; she had a unique ability to deflect her feelings and hide them by reflecting another’s emotions back at them; as for tracking her, even for the Jedi, that had been an impossible feat, although many had questioned whether her ability to block them was a natural Night Sister ability or a concerning dark side one.

“And if we find her?” questioned Ahsoka, suspecting the Jedi Knight wouldn’t come easily. (Y/N) had run for a reason; she’d hidden her struggles for so long many didn’t even see it until now when they were powerless to help her and when she appeared to be in far more danger with her vulnerability than even she realized.

“Try to convince her to return to the temple,” replied Anakin, even when he knew (Y/N) would refuse, even if Master Plo was the one who stood before her. “Only stun if necessary; just beware, (Y/N) is highly trained, and she will fight back,” cautiously added the Jedi Knight, recalling all the times the pair trained together growing up. Despite his skills in lightsaber combat, he’d never successfully defeated her in a duel, although he’d learned a fair bit.

Series Masterlist

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Star Wars Masterlist

Prequels

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The Clone Wars

Good Night - Platonic Obi-wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Attachment - Platonic Obi-wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Overprotective - Platonic Obi-wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (coming soon)

Fives drabble

Shattered Stars Masterlist (series featuring OCs)

The Bad Batch

Snowkissed - Crosshair x Reader

Standalone Movies/Shows

Georgia - Cassian Andor Drabble

Rebels

Something in the works!

Originals

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