#or does he have to drag down Obi-Wan into the shadows as well so he is not the only one there

[fanfic-obsessed]

Knowing

I have just had the worst, or best, brainwave and I need to share it. 

Here is an AU for you.

Vader thinks that he killed his wife and child, right?

Right up until he meets little Leia Organa when she is 10 years old. Like his one brain cell woke the fuck up when he was confronted with a passionate, angry little girl with Padme’s eyes and his chin. This is maybe a month after she was kidnapped and returned to Alderaan. Leia decides that she would need to learn how to be a senator and insists that Bail takes her with him to the next session of the imperial senate.  

Bail does not want to bring her to the imperial senate. However he knows very well who her birth parents were, it is either Bail brings Leia to the Imperial Senate or Leia brings Leia to the Imperial Senate, probably bringing with her someone she really shouldn’t (Like actual Obi Wan Kenobi-I just want you to picture for a moment, because Bail certainly did, looking up and realizing that Leia is charging down the halls outside his office, dragging with her a bemused and sandy Obi Wan, both in badly conceived disguises).

Bail is super stressed as he tries to run a rebellion while riding herd on his well meaning but very direct 10 year old daughter on top of his normal duties as an imperial senator. Bail is also very afraid that the moment the Emperor sees Leia, he will make the connection between Leia and Padme Amidala (The emperor does not socialize with the senate any longer, thank the stars). He has no idea that Vader was once Anakin Skywalker, so has no cause to be more careful than normal (because Vader) about Vader seeing Leia. As such Bail does not even notice when Vader stops to consider them from the shadows. Leia is haranguing another planet’s senatorial aide who had chosen the wrong moment to make a bigoted joke. 

Vader is very abruptly, though mentally, thrown back to this very hallway 12 years earlier where he watched his wife do the same thing, for the same reason, possibly to this same aide. Though Leia is still a child and Padme was an adult, he can still see his wife in this little girl.

The realization that this is Padme’s child hits him with the force of a Ventanor. Followed immediately, before he even realized that this meant that his child was standing in front of him, by the soul deep knowledge that she must be protected from the Emperor at all costs. 

Vader had known for years that his suit had been designed to cause him more pain, he just thought he deserved it. The thought of Palpatine getting ahold of Padme’s daughter was abhorrent. Vader sticks to the shadows and watches, seeing how well Bail loved and protected Leia. 

While he is thinking(read Obsessing) about his daughter, the part of him that is always centered on Obi Wan points out that his old master had been one of the last people to see Padme after Vader choked her. But the little voice that spoke in Padme’s tones piped up, the shock of Leia living being enough to finally make this little voice loud enough to be heard, saying that until recently Obi Wan believed that Anakin Skywalker was all the way dead, he was protecting their child as best as he knew how. 

And Vader has issues with just about every choice Obi Wan Kenobi ever made. But he will admit that hiding Padme’s daughter was the best option. 

As Vader knows that paying too much attention to Leia would draw the Emperor’s attention, he would be willing to wait until the right moment to get his daughter back. His one concession to his need to protect her was taking one of his personal guard, one of the few units still made up almost entirely of clones, and assigning them to be Leia Organa’s bodyguard, her shadow (I also want you to take a moment to consider what that did for Bail’s stress level).  And then Vader gets to planning. 

With his one brain cell awake and focused on the Organa’s it takes Vader all of 15 minutes to realize that Bail Organa is running the Rebellion (I want it to be clear, this is not a slight on Bail at all, Anakin Skywalker was a war general, well educated through the Jedi on a number of subjects, and does have a fair measure of politics learning from both his former master and his dead wife).  However Vader is no more loyal to the Empire than Anakin was to the Republic.  In fact, upon realizing that Padme’s daughter had lived Vader firmly decided that he needed to find a way to kill Palpatine to crown Leia.  With the realization that Bail, and likely Leia (neither Vader nor Anakin have any idea what activities are appropriate for a 10 year old), are part of the Rebellion, Vader decides that The Rebellion would succeed (or everyone would die trying). 

Note: Vader only really gets away with no one realizing that he now supported the Rebellion because, well, no one can quite believe that Darth Vader supports the Rebellion. Most people think there is a new type of Space Madness, and that one of the symptoms is hallucinating Darth Vader giving you intel for the Rebellion.

By the time Leia was a teenager, rumors abound about the odd way that Vader acted around her. By sheer happenstance (and some judicial violence on Vader’s part) these rumors had never reached the Emperor. A good deal of these rumors implied that Vader was looking to the Princess of Alderaan as a wife.  The reaction Vader had, the only time it was brought up in front of him, was…impressive, even for the amount of violence he normally dealt out. Still there are members of Vader’s personal guard who watch over Leia whenever she is on Imperial Center, and no one wants to repeat the time when she was 12 when one of Bail enemies tried to kidnap her for ransom.  It took an entire corps of engineers to put those levels back to rights (after they scrubbed the blood off).  

So we get all the way up to the timeframe of ANH. The Death Star in this does not start out under the control of Darth Vader. It starts out under the control of Tarkin, it is important to note this. Leia still sends out R2D2 and C3P0 to find Obi Wan Kenobi, none of that part changes. 

It is after Leia is captured that Darth Vader shows up (does he lurk silently in any system that Leia is due to be in as often as he can get away with…why yes, yes he does). Tarkin had wanted Leia tortured, however no one wanted to find out how many decks Vader would spread their entrails across for touching her.  Vader arrives on the bridge just as Tarkin is threatening to blow up Alderaan. Tarkin orders the weapon to begin its charge. 

Leia, Leia who is so like her mother in that she will use every weapon in her arsenal, turns to Darth Vader and speaks to him for the first time. ‘Please’ she said, no effort to hide her distress, ‘please save my planet’

Something Leia had no cause to know-An angel who she resembled once thanked Anakin Skywalker for saving her planet. 

Tarkin is dead almost before she finishes speaking. Vader orders the DS weapons to power down and disengage, which is done post haste. Then announces that Leia Organa was now in control. 

So Leia now owns a Death Star (genuine article-never used). Leia is not sure if that is how this works, but no one is arguing with the tall man in black who has OPINIONS and will enforce them.  Leia manages to communicate this to her parents, who take a shuttle up to the space station to figure out what the fuck is going on, and what, if anything, they need to do next.

Two hours later: Obi Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, R2D2, C3P0, and Chewbacca have just been caught trying to sneak onto the Death Star. The Organas are still on board, trying to get answers (In that time Vader has said precisely five words to them ‘You have raised her well’).  It is to this room that the troopers manning the station (who are deeply confused and a bit conflicted because it seems like they may have all been forcibly defected from the Empire, but no one is willing to disobey Lord Vader) bring Obi Wan and co. and present them to Leia, as she is considered in command.  Somehow Luke’s full name (I kind of picture him still dumbly introducing himself to Leia, followed with ‘we’re here to rescue you’) gets used before the situation deteriorates. Which naturally causes everything to deteriorate further and faster than before.  

Far away on Imperial Center, the Emperor pauses in the middle of a hallway ‘I feel’ he says to no one ‘a disturbance in the Force.’ another pause ‘like some shit has just hit the fan’

Far away on Dagobah Yoda looks up, ‘weird, shit just got’

[enigmatist17]

I AM UNWELL

SCREEEEEEECH

This is from some upcoming book that's revealed a few pieces at SDCC and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Note I am 1000000000000000000% ignoring the accelerated aging it doesn't exist what do you mean

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

Nax never expected to see a Jetti again.

And certainly not General Kenobi.

General...heh, the word echoes with a lifetime of fighting side by side brothers and beings that wielded the very worldlike clay in the hands of a child. He remembers the day he left Kamino as a happy shiny, ready to fight for a Republic that had already rotted from within, with brothers that would never see the horror of Order -

No

Never again

"Help a veteran eat a warm meal?" The Jetti blinks, and Nax tries to ignore how the broken man looked like a tooka ready to dart off into the busy streets. He does toss some credits into his bucket, and Nax watches the former general slowly make his way through the streets, clearly looking for something or someone.

He's gone from his beggars spot in the blink of an eye, which for Nax was an achievement.

While physically he wasn't that old (well, so he thinks), a lifetime's worth of injuries did make Nax feel like his body was held together by the Gen 1 armor that never failed. Daiyu cloaked him from most eyes like the darkness from Umbara has he follows Obi-Wan, and naturally he goes to the fake Jetti who seems to point him to where he wants to go. The journey continues to a spice lab, and when the general goes inside, Nax hesitates to follow when an aura that filled him with dread began to pull over the city.

He doesn't have to look to see the Inquisitors.

Admittedly the bounty that rings out throughout the city doesn't help, but Nax slips his bucket on for the first time in ages. The money Kenobi had given him is tossed into the street when the general starts to become surrounded, giving the clone enough time to grab the small natborn up and into his arm while grabbing Kenobi and dragging him into the shadows. The girl struggles while Nax pulls them both deep into an alley, spewing an impressive amount of curses while Kenobi hurries after in tense silence.

He's not surprised at the blue blade that hovers an inch from his neck when he stops moving, and even the girl pauses with an awed gasp.

"I will not let you kill her." Kenobi sounds tired, and wavers when Nax slowly lowers the girl down and releases, watching as she darted to hide behind the Jetti.

"I'm trying to help." Nax slowly lifts his hands, and the blade vanishes when an announcement rings out.

THE CITY IS IN LOCKDOWN, NO SHIPS WILL BE ALLOWED TO DEPART

Kenobi sighs, and Nax slowly lowers his arms.

"The fake Jetti, I can get you to his ship." Both general and natborn look at him, and the veteran points further down the alley. "This service tunnel will get us mostly there, but we must hurry General."

"Why are you helping me?"

"You are a Jetti." The general scowls, and Nax pushes forward. "We were forced to kill, forced to do terrible things long enough for the Empire to rise. I - I never wanted to hurt anyone, never..."

He remembers the purge, and wants to vomit.

"I believe you...?"

"Nax, sir." Finally, a small smile is given his way.

"Lead on Nax."

So he does, leading the General and child through service tunnels while avoiding the hunting parties of Inquisitors and bounty hunters alike. The climb to the platform seems to last hours, and just when it seems like they can get on the cargo ship...she is waiting.

"Get her to safety trooper, now!" The command sends Nax into overdrive, and he scoops up the protesting child and runs to the ship. Once she promises to stay put, Nax pulls out the blaster he'd stolen on the way to get the two, and runs to help Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker lives, although you know him as Darth Vader

Nax takes the moment Obi-Wan pauses in shock to open fire, catching the Inquisitor off-balance as he runs past Obi-Wan.

"Go! Get her out of here!" Nax keeps on firing as he hears the General run, and doesn't stop until he can hear the ship taking off.

He smiles underneath his bucket even as a red blade goes through his chest, and suddenly his hands stop firing as the world goes silent.

"I will find them clone, you only delayed the inevitable."

Nax falls to his knees as the Inquisitor stalks off, and manages to fumble his helmet off before he falls onto his back. Everything is growing so cold as he looks up at the stars twinkling over him, and he wonders if one of them in Obi-Wan's ship flying far far away.

The stars grow brighter the moment he finally stops breathing, and Nax can hear the voices of so many brothers who take him into their waiting arms.

Welcome home brother

[mischievouschan4]

WIP Wednesday - Club!AU (QuiObiAni)

I may have missed Wednesday by 10 minutes local time, but IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS! Here's another "what I'd like to write Wednesday" post that isn't truly a WIP:

Obi-Wan so very rarely goes to clubs these days. He'd had his wild streak when he was in college, but now that he's closer to forty than thirty, most of his nights are filled with mugs of steaming herbal tea, a thick novel, and maybe a relaxing bath.

As the owner of a local bookstore, he's already obligated to spend most of his time reading, but he just loves exploring new worlds through the pages of the latest thrillers or feeling the full spectrum of human emotion in a romantic comedy. He never complains about reading more, it's one of his favorite things in the world. But his own life, as calm and predictable as it is, reads in stark contrast to the exciting places that his mind visits in his books.

...Which is why he feels so out of place sitting at a small round table in the second floor bar area of a packed nightclub. The dark space is occasionally lit by the strobe lights flashing up from the open dancefloor below, and the air is filled with a pulsating beat curated by the live DJ. Obi-Wan leans over the railing to take a peek at the writhing mass of bodies all jumping up and down in time with the music.

No, thank you. Hard pass, he thinks to himself.

He's only here because it's Quinlan's birthday today, and the man had dragged Obi-Wan and a bunch of their old college friends out for 'an exciting night out, c'mon Obi-Wan, don't be such a sourpuss'. Obi-Wan had signed resignedly, but didn't deny that he could probably do with a little more socializing beyond occasionally chatting with his clientele. His life isn't lonely, per say, just quiet. And while he usually appreciates the tranquility, sometimes he does wish he could have someone... to fill in the blank spaces of his monochrome existence with a bit of color.

So here he is, nursing a Scotch and contemplating the state of his life as he oh so carefully guards his friends' belongings that they'd left scattered on the table and chairs around him. They'd gone off to do who knows what, and Obi-Wan is halfway convinced that he should pull out his phone and start answering some emails. Suddenly, someone moves the purse off the chair next to Obi-Wan and slides smoothly onto the seat in its place.

"So... aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?" a sultry voice asks. Though, a bit of the effect is ruined by the need for him to shout.

Obi-Wan squints through the low light (maybe he should have brought his glasses) to make out the shadowed shape of a young man, really young, probably late teens young, with a handsome face and a headful of bouncy curls. He's also wearing the tightest outfit Obi-Wan has ever seen on a person.

Is Obi-Wan... being hit on right now? By a barely legal twink?

Obi-Wan clears his throat awkwardly. "I- I sell books," he says loudly, leaning closer to speak directly in the other man's ear in order to be heard over the din. The newcomer smells like expensive cologne. Musky. Alluring.

The kid leans back and raises his eyebrows as he blatantly appraises Obi-Wan up and down. "Well, it's a good thing I have my library card then, because I'm totally checking you out," he yells back, shooting finger guns in Obi-Wan's direction.

It takes Obi-Wan a second to even register what was said, too distracted by the juvenile display. "That's what you're leading with?" Obi-Wan questions as he shakes his head.

"You don't like?" the kid brushes off the snub. "How about this one? Baby, if you were words on a page, you'd be fine print." This time, the younger man drags out the words 'fine print' as he leans an elbow on the table and gazes up at Obi-Wan through his lashes.

Obi-Wan winces at the exaggeration.

"Still no?" The kid straightens and flicks his head to get the hair off of his forehead, unfazed. (Why was that so attractive?) "Okay, so I was reading the book of numbers, and I realized I don't have yours."

Obi-Wan sighs and holds up a hand, "How about we start with your name?" (He's actually mildly impressed with the kid's ability to think of so many book related pick-up lines on the spot, but something tells Obi-Wan that he doesn't need to inflate the kid's ego any more than it already is.)

"I'm Anakin," the kid, Anakin, answers. "What's yours?"

They sit there shouting at each other for a while with Obi-Wan becoming increasingly drawn in by the younger man's gorgeous eyes and attractive smirk. Anakin's smile should be illegal, Obi-Wan thinks to himself. He looks like sin incarnate. And the kid keeps touching Obi-Wan, finding every opportunity to lay a hand on Obi-Wan's bicep or trail his fingers across Obi-Wan's thighs. It's starting to drive Obi-Wan a little mad, his cock is definitely half hard in his pants.

All of a sudden, a busgirl comes up behind Obi-Wan, leaning over his shoulder to place a brightly colored shot onto the table. She pushes it towards Anakin as she yells, "From the man at the bar." Obi-Wan notices that she winks at Anakin before rushing off.

Anakin, clearly unconcerned about the safety of accepting drinks from strangers, lifts the glass and looks over Obi-Wan's shoulder to where the bar is, toasts someone - presumably the surprise benefactor who had bought him said liquor - and downs it in one gulp. The bob of Anakin's Adams apple as he swallows looks... incredibly tempting.

Obi-Wan feels annoyance stab through him, couldn't this 'man at the bar' see that Anakin was already taken? In fact, Anakin was the one who'd chosen Obi-Wan! But then, Obi-Wan reminds himself that it doesn't matter, it's not like he and Anakin are actually going to do anything. Right? Right?

"You're popular tonight," Obi-Wan points out neutrally.

Anakin just shrugs and puts his hand back on Obi-Wan's thigh with a smirk.

Obi-Wan quickly forgets why he's even miffed in the first place.

After a few moments, however, another man approaches their table and immediately invades Anakin's space. The man doesn't hesitate to thread his fingers into Anakin's curls and clench them into a fist, yanking Anakin's head back to bring their mouths together in a filthy kiss. They're clearly putting on a show for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open at the sight.

The other man, who is dressed to the nines in a full suit (tie and all), has his long hair pulled back in an elegant braid. He's also significantly older than Obi-Wan himself, and he moves with a well-practiced air that speaks of intimate familiarity with Anakin.

Obi-Wan watches, transfixed, as the man reaches up and wraps his fingers around Anakin's throat. Instead of fighting it, Anakin seems to arch his back further, putting himself on display while simultaneously pushing into the older man’s ministrations. The man doesn't squeeze, but Obi-Wan is getting all sorts of ideas as to what kinds of sexual activities these two get up to in private. Obi-Wan covertly adjusts himself in his pants as he watches Anakin enthusiastically respond to getting tongue fucked in public.

When the two finally break apart, the older man keeps a possessive arm around Anakin's waist as he extends a hand to Obi-Wan. In a bit of a daze, Obi-Wan registers that the other man's hand practically engulfs his own as they shake.

"I'm Qui-Gon," the man introduces himself. "I understand that you're the one my boy wants to fuck tonight." Qui-Gon also gives Obi-Wan an appreciative onceover. "Not bad," he compliments with a sensual smirk.

Obi-Wan instantly flushes red when he realizes that (somehow) both men are hitting on him? (How is this real life?) Maybe it’s due to the sheer implausibility of such a situation, or maybe it’s because he’s just that horny, but Obi-Wan lets himself get ushered into a back room of the club, a fancy office with a huge couch and, thankfully, soundproof walls.

"Are we allowed back here?" he asks tentatively. Finally able to speak at a normal volume.

"Yeah, we come here all the time," Anakin answers nonchalantly.

"But won't we get in trouble?"

Anakin smirks as he starts to shimmy out of his skin-tight outfit. Right there. In the middle of the room. "The owner of this place doesn't care," he says flippantly.

"In fact," Qui-Gon says as he comes to stand behind Obi-Wan and wrap his big hands around Obi-Wan's waist. The taller man brushes his nose against the shell of Obi-Wan's ear, sending shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. "The owner of this place likes to watch." Qui-Gon's voice rumbles like gravel, low and husky, and Obi-Wan can’t possibly resist. He pushes his hips back into the taller man and whimpers as Qui-Gon's hands slip in and dip below the waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants.

Anakin is completely naked at this point, and he goes to sit on the couch, hard cock on full display for the two older men. "And in case you're wondering," Anakin explains as grabs some lube hidden in the cushions, "Qui-Gon is the owner."

The long-haired man hums in confirmation as he tilts Obi-Wans face up for a long-awaited kiss. Qui-Gon is clearly very experienced at this, and Obi-Wan can do little except wind his arms around Qui-Gon's neck and cling. His knees have gone weak, and his brain is fuzzy.

Obi-Wan has his first threesome that night, with Anakin fucking into Obi-Wan with fervor at the same time Qui-Gon fucks Anakin at a more leisurely pace. The kid finishes before either of the other two, overwhelmed by the double stimulation, and Qui-Gon ends up fucking Obi-Wan until they both cum. By that point, Anakin is hard again, and Qui-Gon guides Obi-Wan to suck Anakin off as Qui-Gon fingers the younger man's hole.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan is thoroughly embarrassed afterwards, but Anakin just bulldozes through any awkwardness with his loud personality, and Qui-Gon seems to know exactly what Obi-Wan needs. A towel. His phone. A reassurance not to worry about Obi-Wan's friend's personal effects because Qui-Gon has already thought to ask a security guard to watch over their table.

Something about Obi-Wan must really make an impression because Anakin and Qui-Gon find ways to worm their way into Obi-Wan's life. Qui-Gon likes to stop by Obi-Wan's shop during the lunch hour to whisk Obi-Wan off to a fancy date. Anakin, who is actually older than Obi-Wan initially guessed (but not by much), is finishing up school to be a pilot, so he spends afternoons doing homework in the bookstore.

Obi-Wan is reluctant to believe it at first, but gradually, as weeks bleed into months, and months into years, Obi-Wan realizes that they are invested.

They each have their preferred sleeping positions in bed at this point (Anakin always wants to be in the middle). Qui-Gon has even become a business partner as he generously lends out the club space during the day for Obi-Wan to use for larger events that don’t fit in the bookstore, signings and club meetings and drag queen readings for kids. And every time he's home between flights, Anakin barrels through their lives like a hurricane, sexually and in other ways. The gifts he brings back from other cities are becoming too numerous to count in their new shared home.

Obi-Wan realizes he doesn't need a ring or a formal marriage to know that he's found his people. And maybe the matching tattoos the three of them get represent that promise. A stylized bird rising into the air, its wings spread to form the shape of a circle. Together forever, Anakin had promised. And without Obi-Wan consciously realizing it, he slowly comes see how Anakin and Qui-Gon have taken a palette to Obi-Wan's cookie cutter life and painted it in brilliant swathes of color. Together forever, Obi-Wan thinks to himself.

In the end, he gets his fairy tale ending.

------

Ho boy, where did my mind go this week? I originally just wanted to write the tag-team club pick up, but then my mind went to bookstores and fairy tales and color metaphors. WOOPS!

ALSO: Yes, it's Qui-Gon that buys Anakin the shot. It's their little play, if Anakin drinks it there, he wants Qui-Gon to come over. If he's bored, he'll take it and walk away to enjoy in Qui-Gon's lap hehe

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[inkformyblood]

as my penance (CWFKB #24)

Chaste kiss, modern au, priest au. Thank you so much to the mods for organising this event and for being so patient with my goldfish like memory at times 💜 I’ve had so much fun @codywanfirstkissbingo

There’s a peculiar kind of quiet that inhabits churches. It weaves through the rafters and infects the damp stone until it coaxes the air from Obi-Wan’s lungs with every step he takes inside, fills him back up with the rich scent of the herbs burning in the braziers and the roaming refrains of hymns sung in full-throated joy. He nods at the few parishioners scattered amongst the worn benches that look up at his footsteps, still close enough to the steady timbre of a priest even now for the lines to smudge and blur beneath his fingertips, and draws the thin straps of his bag further up on his shoulder.

He cuts a strange figure in a church, comfortable from exposure rather than ease, and his shoes are worn thin at the soles. He could still get a couple more weeks out of them before he throws himself further onto Cody’s charity. He has already invaded the other man’s life enough and yet his treacherous heart wouldn’t let him leave just yet. Snow still clings to the edges of the roads, drooping over the laden boughs of the trees and the roofs, and Obi-Wan with his singular bag and his empty pockets for his pilgrimage, would not be going anywhere until the ground warmed up enough that he could sleep through the night in the woods. Obi-Wan is still enough of a talking point in the village that he knows his impromptu visit will be traded along with a collection of coins for the day’s groceries, exchanged with a nod and a wink and an item left behind after the shared dinner the day prior. Never mind that he lives with Cody in the priest’s home; Obi-Wan is a pilgrim, he is a charity who is easy on the eyes and is polite enough to make the older ladies cluck over him.

This visit is something. It is different.

And he’s carrying a bag.

This would keep them busy for weeks.

Obi-Wan covers his mouth with his hands, his fingers clasped tightly together, as he lowers his head in front of one of the collection of candles spilling out of an alcove. A few are already lit, their tiny flames wavering the distant breeze from the door, and Obi-Wan draws a splint from the sprawl. He lights a candle, thinking about nothing except the small snap as the wick catches, the burst of heat that presses against the tips of his fingers. Grief is a tricky thing and this helps.

The pilgrimage helped as well, the uneasy slip into a life meant for someone else and it had been too big on Obi-Wan at first, having to be rolled up at the sleeves, the end dragging with every step he made. It suits him now, falls at the jut of his wrists and buttons around the thinner curve of his waist now that he is worn and weathered, any excess scraped away from him like a scrimshaw carving.

He wraps his fingers around the bag as he ducks through the small door to the cramped confessional, drawing it closed behind him. There is a small bench lined with patched velvet and Obi-Wan sits, his feet flat on the floor and his back perfectly straight as he draws the bag from his shoulder to hold it on his lap. The contents rattle as he does so and he wraps one hand round it to keep it steady as he unhooks the small covering over the grate.

The figure beyond is cast in shadow, dappled just enough by the small candle set high on the wall. Wax runs down the side, distorting the shape into something monstrous. A shiver twists down Obi-Wan’s spine, the hair at the nape of his neck prickling with the passage, and he breathes in deeply, tasting the familiar rich scent of heavily spiced chocolate and plain cologne, as inoffensive as it could be. Obi-Wan smells like him now; he can bury his nose into his shirt cuffs under the guise of brushing his hair away from his forehead and be immediately reminded of the other man. He loves him too much with every piece of himself, shattered and pieced back together and set to this course.

“Hello, Cody.” Obi-Wan pauses a moment, blinking slowly like a cat caught in a sunbeam and unwilling to move from its perch, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. “Should I follow the correct procedure?”

Cody is beautiful in all aspects, from his mind to his caring soul to his stubbornness about the static hissing through the radio in his kitchen, but he is especially striking like this, shadows deep across his face and his clothing pressed to sharp creases. He looks good in black, the colour complimenting the early stripes of silver in his curls. “You could,” Cody says as he always does. He relaxes slightly, fabric sliding against itself softly and he tips his head back against the wall. His eyes are a dark gleam as he slants his face towards the small grate, towards Obi-Wan. “What’s in the bag?”

“What is my penance, Father?”

Cody scuffs around a laugh, pressing his hand over his mouth. Obi-Wan could picture him in a smoky alley at the side of a bar, a plastic glass abandoned at his feet and his shoulders curled against the sudden rush of wind that threatens to tear the slim cigarette from his grasp. He would have approached Cody on equal footing then, tucked himself into the scant gap at Cody’s side and leaned down to murmur into his ear. Maybe an invitation back to whichever room Obi-Wan had claimed as his own amongst a sprawl in a decaying manor house, or Cody extending the same back to him.

Obi-Wan prods his lower lip with his tongue, the sound a shock in the quiet sanctuary of the confessional booth. “Can I suggest one?”

“I’m always open to input from the community.”

Hallowed and holy and all Obi-Wan wants to do is kiss him. Obi-Wan leans closer to the grate, pressing his cheek to it. It wouldn’t leave a mark but the sensation is smooth against his skin, history creaking beneath his touch. Cody mimics him, slower. His breath is gentle, matching the uneven tempo of Obi-Wan’s heartbeat.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

“As penance?”

“Because I’d like to.”

Cody blinks, swallows. Obi-Wan’s hands curl into fists, indenting his nails into his palms.

“And how do you suggest going about doing that?”

Obi-Wan turns his face the scant angle required, kissing Cody through the grate. There’s no warm sensation of his mouth, only his breath against Obi-Wan’s lips, the gentle hitch in the back of his throat. They part, having never been joined in the first place, and Obi-Wan breathes out slowly, the dull sensation of dust and varnish worn into his mouth. “I originally came here to drop off your lunch.”

Cody laughs then, full-throated for one glorious moment, the beginning refrain of a hymn falling from the heavy pipes, and he presses his palms to his face. Obi-Wan can’t make out the entirety of his expression, but what little he could, Cody’s cheeks are stained dark but his grin is wide. “I’ll collect it from you outside, I think. Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

[ilummoss]

“Qui-Gon would have joined me”

Aka Dooku is such an interesting mess and I would love to know what goes on in his head.

Started in part by this post, I’ve been thinking about these words Dooku gives Obi-Wan in AotC, and what they are about. Because these words are soaked in misinformation/falsehoods.

First, if we look at canon it’s almost impossible for Dooku not to have left the Jedi Order before TPM (and probably by quite some time). Even just the movies point to him leaving well ahead of TPM, but TCW really nails down the timeframe (there’s a longer exploration of what we know regarding the timeframe of Dooku leaving the Order under the cut). But not just that Dooku had left the Order, it’s also clear that Dooku was already a Sith by TPM. 

And one of the main reasons this is so interesting to me is that it means Dooku was part of the Sith when Qui-Gon was killed. Not just vaguely in league with Sidious in some way, but full on had his own Sith title already, Tyranus. It’s even possible he was somewhat aware of Sidious’s plans for Naboo. 

Meaning his words are not about justifying joining those that killed him, it’s justifying staying allied to them, and justifying Qui-Gon’s death. Dooku talks about how Qui-Gon would have joined him had he lived, would have seen his perspective... But Qui-Gon clearly never did while he was alive, or he was denied even the possibility to (the more likely alternative). But Dooku is telling himself that Qui-Gon would have joined him, because that means he would have been alright with being sacrificed for this “higher cause”. And he does so because he knows it’s not true. (As in it is Dooku’s truth that Qui-Gon would not have joined him.)

Dooku knows that Qui-Gon wouldn’t have joined him, wouldn’t have agreed to this twisted higher cause of a Sith Empire, certainly not to be sacrificed to it. And because he cannot face what that truth means about him and his plans, he has to lie to himself about it.

Dooku’s “regrets” about Qui-Gon fascinates me so much, because I feel like he is expressing guilt, not about the actual matter he feels guilty over, but about something two steps to the left. Because selective half-truths is what keeps him running. 

About Dooku leaving the Order:

In AotC Jango Fett tells Obi-Wan he got the job as template for the clone army on the moons of Bogden from a man named Tyranus. In the same movie “Tyranus” is established to be Dooku’s Sith title. We know the clone army is about 10 years old, which means Dooku was a Sith 10 years ago. But perhaps this could have happened just after TPM? Master Sifo-Dyas’s death isn’t established more clearly than “almost ten years ago” and the name Tyranus could perhaps be a later addition by Jango to further obscure Dooku’s connection to the army. 

But in TCW season 6 we get some more information about this period of time, establishing that Sifo-Dyas was sent on his last mission by Chancellor Valorum. According to Palpatine it was also Valorum that had the files classified, which would put Sifo-Dyas’s death during Valorum’s time as chancellor. Of course, Palpatine should always be seen as an unreliable source. But as the reason he gives was still being a senator at this point I lean towards the timeframe being true, even if Palpatine’s description of his noninvolvement in the matter is more suspect. That means Sifo-Dyas is killed before, or at the latest during, TPM. And the same TCW episode further tells us that the Pykes were hired to kill Sifo-Dyas, by a man named Tyranus. It’s not just that Dooku was in league with Palpatine already at this point, but that he already has and uses his Sith title. Even if Dooku hypothetically could still have been part of the Order, he would already have been a Sith at that time. Him having already left the Order just makes more sense.

Skeevy Sheevy must have been juggling double apprentices for a while there, which feels like a very Sheev thing to do. (It honestly makes me want Plagueis to have been alive during the same time, just for all the juggling Palpatine would have had to do to keep them all from finding out about each other. No wonder running the Republic and the CIS was a piece of cake to him, he was used to managing several high maintenance Sith Lords xD.)

Another point that hints towards Dooku having left earlier than TPM is that he has never actually met Obi-Wan, despite being Qui-Gon’s old Master. And despite that he claims Qui-Gon talked highly of him. Going by only AotC this might not have meant as much, but if we take tcw and the interactions between Masters and their former padawans we see there into account (for example Obi-Wan and Anakin, Kit Fisto and Nahdar), Dooku never meeting his padawan’s padawan becomes strange if he was still part of the Order for the entirety (or even part of) of Obi-Wan’s time as a padawan.

Lastly, in the confrontation between Dooku and Anakin in tcw season 4 Shadow Warrior Dooku also dances around Anakin’s question if he was a part of the first battle of Naboo by declaring that the Sith control everything. It’s not a confirmation, but it’s also not a denial. 

All in all, not only is it clear that Dooku was already a Sith in TPM, him having also left the Order (probably for quite some time) is the most natural explanation. It also means that he would have had years to try and bring Qui-Gon to see his perspective and either fail or, more likely, never actually tried. 

While there is probably some regret about not reaching out to do just that, I think it is even more that Dooku at some level knows that he has sold his soul to the devil dark side for power, and what a cursed bargain it is. The sacrifice of Qui-Gon is the ultimate proof that he is on the wrong path, and so it has to be denied. 

I know both Legends and the nu!EU have established more explicit leaving points, but I decided to stick to high canon in this for simplicity. The nu!EU leaving point also lines up well with high canon, with Dooku having left some time before Obi-Wan was 17. In Legends the most common timeframe seems to be that he left just after TPM, which doesn’t really line up with later evidence. (I’m not saying this to talk down Legends, it was doing it’s world-building without a lot of later established context. And TPM is a temptingly dramatic breaking point, especially with the death of Qui-Gon)

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

Miraculous Ladybug

Part 3 of I will take it / It can't go wrong (Note: I reread this whole series and cried)

departure by carolinaa

Gabriel Agreste stands trial, and Adrien tries to cope.

(When is he supposed to mention that his dad's Hawkmoth? Now, or later?)

The Witcher

Tunes Without Words by foxy_mulder

The plan is this:

He will note all the things that annoy Geralt, and he will stop doing them, and then Geralt will want him around.

It will work. It has to work, because Jaskier cannot be left behind.

Stars Wars/The Mandalorian

Shadow and Apprentice by Aureutr_Accoredge

Din Djarin has served Mand'alor the Ruthless as Alo'prudii for nearly a decade. It hasn't been easy, the Mand'alor is even more mad than the stories say. And he seems to be slipping.

Dragged along to Tatooine for the Mand'alor's vengeful whims, Din ends up skirting his vows to make another promise.

He doesn't expect much in his life to change.

Everything does.

Clone Wars

Post-Hoc by Trixree

Master Jinn says, “I’d like you to start with a reflection. A written report. In order to grow, one must first confront one’s past mistakes. This is what I’d like you to do, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan swallows down the overwhelming urge to laugh. There’s a part of him, a part of him that has adopted Nield’s dry and acerbic humor, that wants to ask, “Would you prefer an alphabetized list or would numerical ordering by casualty numbers do?”

See My Youth in You by MerlynBane, PyromanicDaydreamer

Obi-Wan is definitely not prepared to train a Padawan, not freshly knighted as he is, and he’s even less prepared for a Padawan like Anakin.

(A story about learning and teaching and why they are often the same thing)

Jahaalir te Jetii (tug’yc bal tug’yc) by whitchry9

Or: to heal a Jedi (again and again)

Tales from the medbay of the 212th.

from this moment hangs eternity by EvanHart

If Luke – Force, his son – was talking about slave chips, something must have gone wrong in the future.

Or, a six-year-old Luke ends up in the middle of the Clone Wars, meets his father, and changes the fate of the galaxy on the way.

hunger pains by CallToMuster

“We all thought Obi-Wan would have issues with food after going through... food insecurity on Melida/Daan,” Qui-Gon said. That sounded more palatable than the word used in Obi-Wan’s medical files — starvation. “But he seems fine. I think we might have dodged a blaster bolt here.”

Healer Brai stayed silent and just watched him.

[or: after Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan's relationship with food is more complicated than it may seem.]

the comfort of you by jimmytiberius

Obi-Wan wakes up slowly to the sound of incessant beeping. Without opening his eyes, he registers the pervasive smell of antiseptic and the Force signatures of Bones and IJ. Medbay. Lovely.

A Study on Jedi Attachments by Runeb19

It never occured to Cody to stray very far from his Jedi, although the Jedi seemed to think about the reverse quite a lot. But, well, that indecisiveness was just part of his charm.

Siege Warfare by glimmerglanger

Everyone said synth was just like real blood.

The Healers in the Temple had said so from the time Obi-Wan became aware that his dietary requirements did not align with those of his crèchemates. That realization had coincided neatly with an awareness of the fact that, perhaps, his crèchemates met his dietary requirements.

OR, the one where Obi-Wan faces a reckoning about himself and his relationship with blood while in the middle of a war.

[severeannoyance]

A Thing of Flesh And Shadow

AO3 Link: A Thing of Flesh And Shadow

Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy

Warnings: Choose Not to Warn

Summary:

The suppressor cuffs are not coming off anytime soon. Dooku has a very simple explanation for this: Qui-Gon is dead.

Qui-Gon can believe this. He remembers with awful clarity being stabbed through the gut. The disbelief. Obi-Wan’s desperation. 

And now, there is a dreadful grief that weighs every breath. Qui-Gon is back. He’s alive. He does not feel alive. He feels like everything is an effort, and that he has lost something—important. But here he is, pinned in place by another man’s grief and nailed to existence with a pair of cuffs.

Qui-Gon wakes in a profoundly changed world—and to a profoundly changed former Master. Stranded in Dooku’s Serenno stronghold, Qui-Gon will have to unravel the plots and lies around him before Dooku drags him down as well. 

If Qui-Gon can pull a few other people up after him in the process, so much the better.

(Or: Dooku does a Crime Against Nature. Qui-Gon gets to be the gothic romance novel heroine we always knew he could be. Ventress is gonna get adopted SO HARD)

Canon noncompliance is deliberate and premeditated.

[ace-oreos]

Alpha has a nightmare and fordo comforts him

These 👏 two 👏 are 👏 good 👏 brothers 👏

How is it that in every other fic I write Fordo ends up being the emotionally intelligent one lmao

Taglist: @merspots @dudewhynotthis @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @a-lil-perspective @or-te-ka-ra @huitzilinthebudgie3 @mageofcole

It starts like this:

Alpha opens his eyes to darkness and the sound of water dripping just at the edges of his hearing, loud enough to be maddening but not loud enough for him to pinpoint its source. There’s something oddly familiar about it in a way that makes his skin crawl.

The moisture in the air clings to his skin, makes him feel like he’s a cadet again, tilting his face towards the brilliantly clear sky on the few days it wasn’t storming incessantly on Kamino. But there’s something palpably wrong here; despite the moisture, the air feels… dead.

His neck prickles. Even without the Force, he can sense the tension running thick, and something deadly beneath that. Even that feels familiar somehow; he frowns, still not fully able to piece everything together but acutely aware that when he does, he won’t like what he finds.

Something unpleasantly warm slides down his face. He moves to wipe it off while he assesses his surroundings, and -

A clatter of metal, a burning sensation he remembers all too clearly - manacles grinding against skin rubbed bloody and raw - and Alpha now knows with absolute certainty where he is.

Because the thing is, General Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t the only one rescued from Rattatak.

Panic seizes his chest, and it’s all Alpha can do to keep from screaming then.

The blood sliding down his face runs into his mouth. He spits, trying to forget the taste and the fear and the pain of half-healed wounds littering his body. He can feel the blood seeping from fresh gouges that cut into muscle - wounds that will never fully heal, that will ultimately see him relegated to Kamino because he is no longer fit for the front lines.

His ragged breathing echoes in the damp cell as he tries to force back the panic so he can just think for a moment. They escaped last time - he and the general, they managed to fight their way out and commandeer a shuttle. He thinks he remembers where the landing platform is. Rattatak is nothing but a warren of tunnels beneath the surface, but he remembers their path vividly.

He just might pull it off, even in his weakened state. There’s a short window of time when the guards’ shifts don’t overlap - he hates that he knows that - time it right, and he’ll be off this cesspit.

No sooner does the thought cross his mind than distant footsteps reverberate through the corridor, and the door opens with an awful squeal of long disused hinges. Alpha raises his chin so he can look her in the eye when she crosses the threshold. It’s more than the hut’uun deserves, but he’d sworn to himself that if he were to die here, it would be on his terms.

It was always something about her eyes that unnerved him. He’d never admit it, of course, but there was just nothing in them; no warmth, light, whatever Kenobi would’ve called it.

She should know by now that she won’t get anything out of him. In three weeks, he hasn’t divulged any of the information she’s been seeking. It won’t last much longer, their little dance, but he finds some perverse enjoyment in antagonizing her along the way. He always pays dearly for it in the end, but… well, it keeps him sane.

He’s preparing his next angle of attack when the knife falls for the first time. The first spatter of blood splashes to the floor, and the cycle begins again.

He thinks that’s when he finally screams.

Alpha wakes to a hand on his shoulder and the sound of his brother’s voice. He pulls away instinctively, waiting for newly formed scabs on his wrists to tear again, for the knife to drag through his skin.

But it never comes.

Instead Fordo rocks back on his heels, eyes shadowed with worry. It takes conscious effort on Alpha’s part to look at his brother without seeing the cell on Rattatak behind him.

“Hey,” Fordo says softly.

“Me’ven?” Alpha asks like it isn’t painfully obvious.

A wry smile flashes across Fordo’s face. “Thought you might appreciate it.” His face softens as he studies Alpha. “Rattatak?”

“‘Lek.”

“You had a rough time,” Fordo says, and if it was coming from anyone else Alpha probably wouldn’t let something like that fly, but this is Fordo, and he understands. “It’s bound to happen.”

Alpha studies the blank wall behind his brother’s head. “Maybe.”

“No shame in it.”

“Have you been talking to the Jetiise again?” Alpha demands, teasing now that he feels like he can breathe.

Fordo scoffs. “Natural talent, ner vod.”

“I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Oh, budge over, you lump.”

Without waiting for a response, Fordo makes himself at home in Alpha’s bunk, shoving Alpha’s legs aside in the process. Alpha watches it unfold, simultaneously befuddled and amused. Once he manages to squeeze himself in, Fordo scoots closer to Alpha like they’re six years old again.

“I was lonely,” Fordo says, correctly interpreting the look on Alpha’s face.

“I’m sure you were,” Alpha says drily, but he finds he’s not particularly inclined to push Fordo away just yet.

“I’ll go away eventually,” Fordo promises. The sincerity of it is undercut by how his voice is muffled by Alpha’s shoulder, and Alpha has to roll his eyes at his brother and his methods.

It’ll be a while yet before he can forget what took place after Jabiim, but for now, he chooses to relax with the weight of his vod against him and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Fordo’s a pain in the shebs when he wants to be, but there’s something about his presence now that’s reassuring all the same.

Alpha closes his eyes and lets the sound of his brother’s soft inhalations lull him to sleep.

[glimmerglanger]

Mer!AU prompt--Cody mentioned the difference in their refractory periods in chapter six of C+T. Any chance Obi-Wan is gonna notice as well and do something about it? :D?

OHOHOHO! Obi-Wan is very considerate that way. (Spoilers: he does something about it).

This little snippet is VERY spicy. Not safe for wizards. Happy married folks really, uh, enjoying their relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan spent time considering the many differences between humans and merfolk as time passed. So many of them were obvious. Others were… less so. There were some he only got to explore when Cody was with him, when they could get close to one another, tangle together.

Learning the things that Cody liked was, very much, a pleasing endeavor. Learning the things that he would have expected from a lover of his own kind took more time, partially because it meant unlearning so much Obi-Wan had grown up accepting.

But Obi-Wan knew how to adapt and very much enjoyed learning everything possible about Cody. And so he learned that Cody wanted his touch to continue, even after orgasm raced through him. He wanted to be touched all through the aftershocks and - and beyond, ideally.

Obi-Wan picked up other information - here and there - in his new home, about different species that lived in the water. He assumed, after some reading, that perhaps the merfolk also had an actual bone in their cocks. 

It would explain a lot. Including Cody’s ability to...keep going, past the point when a human would have grown soft and over-sensitive.

Still, Cody never pushed for them to continue longer, never continued touching when Obi-Wan grabbed his hand to still him, though Obi-Wan’s reactions to orgasm must have seemed odd to him. He simply….accepted what they had, and, the one time Obi-Wan broached the subject of their couplings being, well, less than satisfying, he’d seemed genuinely befuddled.

He’d proceeded to demonstrate exactly how satisfying he found their joining, and Obi-Wan knew he’d made enough noise to carry through the water, based solely on the looks he got from his guards the next day.

So, Cody had no….complaints about their love-making. But that did not stop Obi-Wan from wanting to give him, well. Something closer to what he expected. What he was used to. At least occasionally. Obi-Wan considered his options for making such a thing happen while Cody was away, handling things in Sundari.

By the time Cody returned, he had a plan. 

Cody ever and always enjoyed having Obi-Wan’s mouth on him, and happily collapsed back against their low bed as Obi-Wan bent over him, barely exchanging initial greetings. Obi-Wan felt impatient under his skin, keyed up with desire, which was not quite his intent.

He needed to hold off his own release as long as possible, to make any of this tenable, and so he ignored the ache of his cock, sliding his mouth further down, instead. Cody panted out his name, hand brushing back over his hair, his skin tasting of salt.

Obi-Wan enjoyed the feel of each ridge sliding over his bottom lip, over and over again, enjoyed the way Cody swore, muscle tensing in his stomach and his fin. They had been apart for nearly two weeks. Obi-Wan knew it would not take long, not the first time, and slid his mouth further down, swallowing, nose brushing scales and--

Cody groaned out a warning, tugging just a little on Obi-Wan’s hair, and Obi-Wan hummed reassuringly around his cock. The vibration must have been just enough to toss Cody over the edge; he arched, cock twitching, pulsing against the top of Obi-Wan’s tongue.

Obi-Wan stayed where he was as long as possible, his eyes watering, his throat aching. He could hold his breath quite a long time, which - he’d found - had uses besides swimming. He stroked Cody’s side, breath held in his chest, and Cody rocked sinuously up off of the bed, slow rolls of his body, working his cock in Obi-Wan’s throat, the ache of it deep and sweet and--

And Obi-Wan eventually had to slide up, sucking in a breath through his nose and resisting the urge to cough, even as another wave of come spilled into his mouth, this time.

He swallowed it, the tip of Cody’s cock between his lips, keeping him there until Cody panted out, “Fuck, Obi-Wan, come here,” and grabbed at him, pulling him up to kiss him, slick with the wet smeared all over Obi-Wan’s mouth.

Cody rubbed at his cheeks, groaning against his mouth, the hard line of his cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s thigh, where Obi-Wan had intentionally tossed a leg across him. Cody reached down, fingers sliding over Obi-Wan’s stomach, and Obi-Wan caught his wrist, tugging to the side.

“What?” Cody asked, drawing back enough to blink at him. “I want to--”

“Not yet,” Obi-Wan cut in, with a smile that felt half-wild. He’d never get to what he wanted to do if Cody started touching him. He’d get distracted, overwhelmed with pleasure. That could wait, at least for a little.

“But--” Cody started, and cut off when Obi-Wan shifted, straddling him properly, scales so cool against the insides of his thighs, Cody spread out under him, the purple light pouring off of his skin lighting up the otherwise dark room around them. 

Obi-Wan ground against him, just for a moment, sending a shiver of want down his own back, leaving it pooling in his gut. It was so tempting to just continue the movement, and it had been two weeks for him, too. 

He had the brief thought that he should have - perhaps - waited to attempt this until Cody had been back a few days, until they’d burned out some of their initial wants. But he’d been impatient. And so he ignored his own aching cock, sitting up a little straighter and reaching for the oil he’d set to the side.

“I missed you,” he panted out, slicking his fingers and sliding his hand down over Cody’s cock, already wet from his mouth and throat. He ached with how much he wanted, and with the preparations he’d done, earlier.

He’d left himself so close to coming, earlier, when he was getting ready for this, stretching himself out, hoping to make himself less on edge once Cody actually arrived.

Things hadn’t quite worked out that way, but… “I miss you with every breath,” Cody told him, “hold on, I can help,” he started, sliding a hand over Obi-Wan’s hip, around to his ass, and he’d been very pleased with himself for filing down two of his nails, last time he’d visited.

Obi-Wan couldn’t think of the feeling of Cody’s fingers inside of him - only to the second knuckle, because the webbing got in the way after that - or he’d spill before they even got started. He bit his bottom lip, made a ragged sound, and sank down, hoping to distract himself.

The stretch of Cody’s cock was distracting, but it did absolutely nothing to slow down the blazing rush of want in his spine. Cody made a thick, hungry sound, both hands on Obi-Wan’s hips now, squeezing as he rasped out, “You--fuck--you got ready? Ready for me?”

“I was knowing you were going to be here,” Obi-Wan managed to answer, a smile on his mouth as he considered the hunger in Cody’s expression, wondering why Cody seemed to like that information so much. “I did not wanting to wait.”

Cody’s eyes were so wide and so dark as he panted out, “I won’t make you wait, then,” and arched up, driving his cock the rest of the way inside, Obi-Wan crying out at the feel of him, half-falling forward, catching himself on his hands. 

Cody no longer had to worry about hurting his stomach or agitating wounds when they were together. He moved beneath Obi-Wan, and it took Obi-Wan a dizzy moment to even think about meeting his movements.

First, he had to reach a hand down and squeeze the base of his cock, because just the feel of it after so long….

“You’re not stroking yourself,” Cody said, ragged, his gaze down by Obi-Wan’s cock, by his unmoving hand, and Obi-Wan jerked out a nod, unable to find words at the moment. “I’ll help you,” Cody added, sliding a hand over, and Obi-Wan made a rough sound.

“Not yet,” he managed to pant out, wrestling for control and managing some measure of it after a moment. Cody blinked up at him, expression questioning, and Obi-Wan added, “I want. To wait. A while longer.”

Cody opened his mouth and shut it again on a groan when Obi-Wan felt controlled enough to rise up, to sink down on him, and, oh, he felt so good. 

At least, in this position, Obi-Wan could avoid direct stimulation of his prostate. But it was still so good, having Cody in him after so long denied. He was so painfully aware of his aching cock, of the need, and he could feel himself losing his rhythm, distracted and wanting and--

And it was not much of a surprise when Cody wrapped an arm around him and rolled them, rasping, “Let me, I’ve got you,” and oh, changing the angle and fucking into him. Obi-Wan groaned, wordless as Cody hooked an arm under one of his knees, hitching his leg up.

Obi-Wan had meant not to come yet. He really had, but the position dragged his cock against Cody’s stomach, and Cody drove into him so perfectly, and it had been too long, and he spilled with a ragged cry, scrambling for a grip at Cody’s shoulders and arms.

Cody hesitated, breathing hard above him, and Obi-Wan dug his free heel against Cody’s back, panting out, “Keep--keep going, it’s, keep--”

It was, apparently, all the motivation Cody needed. He rocked into motion, fucking Obi-Wan through it, mucles shifting and clenching under Obi-Wan’s hands until he cried out, as well, curling forward and coming in long, hot pulses and Obi-Wan felt them.

He’d gotten used to the way Cody rolled against him, after an orgasm. Even sensitive, he loved that slow movement, the knowledge that he could make Cody feel so good. He felt his breathing even out as Cody nuzzled against his hair, still all lit up, casting shadows on the walls around them.

Cody brushed a kiss to his mouth, long moments later, and shifted to slide out of him, murmuring, “Let me get you some--”

“Stay,” Obi-Wan panted, tugging on Cody’s arm even as he rolled. He wanted to - to see if he could wear Cody out, properly. But his hips protested the idea of trying another round on his back. He vaguely considered that he should have cleaned the come off of his stomach before smearing it all over the sheets, but it was too late to fix that now. He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Come here.”

Cody stared at him, looked down his body and then up again, eyes unfathomably dark. He said, “But… I know you’re tired.”

“Not that tired,” Obi-Wan assured him, and slid one knee a little out to the side, which was, he knew, a bit of a dirty trick.

Cody was ever so fascinated with the way he could bend and stretch his legs. And, sure enough, it had Cody sliding a hand up the back of his thigh, rolling a little closer, asking, “Should I hold you, then?”

“You should fucking me, then,” Obi-Wan told him, and Cody made a thick sound. After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t that sensitive, not yet. His plan was still manageable, and--

Cody slid against him, between his legs, settling close and all the thoughts fled Obi-Wan’s head as Cody asked, “You’re sure?”

“Come on,” Obi-Wan said, in answer, tilting his hips up, and then swore, thready, when Cody pushed forward, into him, all at once, he was already so slick and stretched and--

And Obi-Wan felt himself getting hard again, the situation getting more pressing when Cody worked a hand under him, gripping his cock, stroking in time with each thrust, panting against his shoulders, and--

Obi-Wan’s second orgasm left him shaking, face pressed against the sheets while Cody kept going, mouthing at the back of his neck, leaving his skin aching in anticipation. Obi-Wan managed to twist an arm up and back, to twist fingers into Cody’s hair, tugging him closer.

Cody bit him almost right by his neck, teeth sinking in at the end of his orgasm, when he felt most sensitive, and he cried out, blindingly aware of each slide of Cody’s cock, of each shift of his teeth, or his weight and warmth and light.

Cody blanketed him and came with a sound that was muffled against Obi-Wan’s skin.

And Obi-Wan managed to say, through the daze, before Cody could get any ideas about pulling out and getting him water, about tending to the bite, “Again.”

Cody made a ragged noise and rocked into him more purposefully, and it was--so much. Too much and at the same time not enough, as though there were some plateau in Obi-Wan’s head that he’d never reached before, and each too-much touch was driving him closer to it.

He squirmed, couldn’t stop himself, heard a whine in his throat as Cody kept his teeth set just so. There was no room for thought, for anything really. He was just his blood and his nerves and sensation, striving to see, exactly, how much he could take.

[ahsokadrabbles]

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 [obi-wan kenobi x skywalker!reader

obi-wan and his padawan spend a day with the younglings. 

word count: 2k

warnings: teeth rotting fluff. enjoy! 

the soul purpose of this drabble is that it was soft for obi hours, but i think i’m going to turn this into a series so stay tuned! 

You had come to a crossroads in your training as a padawan. You were no longer a youngling, but still a student beneath your master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You were one of the eldest padawans which you never minded, you liked putting on the role of big sister, but it was hard to still be a padawan when in your head you felt much more grown. If it hadn't been for you older brother Anakin being the star of the show when the two of you arrived at the temple many years ago, maybe you would've been a Jedi Knight by now. You loved your brother dearly, but you had always lived in his shadow. His grand title of "Chosen One" loomed above you like dark cloud while he wore it on his head like a crown. It wasn't until three years ago that he outgrew his Master and earned a padawan of his own. It soon became your time to be Master Kenobi's student. Now, every day you woke up with the sun and trained, just as you had watched your big brother do when you were young. It was rewarding, but it soon became old news. You had begun to feel like a grown woman trying to sleep in her childhood bed. You had the mind of a Knight, but your skills just weren't there yet. If you were your brother, you'd throw a fit about not being good enough, but you were patient and devoted to learning. Your Master admired this trait in you. You and your brother were like night and day to him. Anakin was the sun, firey and opinionated, while you were the moon, quiet and wise beyond your years.

You awoke to your friend and your brother's padawan, Ahsoka Tano, shaking you awake. The younger Togruta hung above you in bed, her striped montrals and padawan beads brushing against your groggy face. "I'm awake, I'm awake" You laughed, sitting up in bed. Ahsoka plopped down at the foot of your bed, watching you with cat-like curiousity. "Are you going to get out of bed?" She asked. You stretched your arms up over your head and glanced at the flickering analog clock that sat on your nightstand. The time was nearly obscured by all the things you had crowded on the table. Copies of Jedi texts, spare saber parts, jewelry, and pictures of you and your friends and family. "I have a few minuets to spare." You shrugged, falling back against your sea of pillows with a quiet thud. "You weren't up all night fantasizing about your Master again were you?" The younger teased, which earned her a swat on the leg from you. "Ahsoka!" You gasped, now blushing furiously. She was the first person to catch onto your little crush on your master, and now she teased you relentlessly for it. "You know I'd never tell, I'm just playing with you." A tender look swam in her blue eyes, she always meant any word she said. Ahsoka was the most loyal friend you could ever ask for. "I was actually up all night studying." You replied, finally forcing yourself out of bed. "I wanted to make sure I had all my information straight for the presentation for the younglings today." You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked past and wrinkled your nose. Your hair stuck up in ever single direction and your eyes remained puffy from sleep. Perhaps you had underestimated the amount of time you'd need to get ready this morning. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, you have me after all." Ahsoka sang, batting her eyes in your direction. "I just really need to prove myself. I'm getting old you know." You said as you retrieved a fresh pair of clothes from the closet. "You're only eighteen, Y/N." The togruta folded her legs beneath herself on the corner of your mattress. "Your starting to sound more and more like Master Kenobi every day. I think you're around him too much." You let out an airy chuckle as you changed out of your pajamas. "Yes, but Anakin was so much farther ahead of me when he was my age. I'm afraid Obi-Wan will start to lose faith in me." "Don't be silly, Y/N." Ahsoka sighed, now stood behind you. In the mirror before you two she could be seen, barely, considering she was a head shorter than you, with her hands placed tenderly on your shoulders. "Can I do your hair?" You watched the clock tick by as your friend separated out your strands of hair and twisted them into an intricate up-do. For someone with no hair, she was quite good at doing it. "Done with three minuets to spare. We better go find our masters."

The pair of you met your masters just in time as they appeared in the lift the moment you hit the button to summon it up. "There you are, Y/N." Master Kenobi said, Anakin stood smugly by his side. "You were almost late." Anakin added before Obi-Wan gave him a swift kick in the ankle. Your brother let out a hiss as you and his padawan enter into the now cramped lift. You were stood in front of your master, your back nearly press flush against his chest, and you could feel Ahsoka's knowing stare burning into the left side of your head. "Did you do something different with your hair?" Master Kenobi asked, his Couscanti drawl lingering in your chest and making your face burn red. "Ahsoka did it for me." You replied. The girl could be seen beaming from out of the corner of your eye as the doors of the lift slid open. Your quickly stepped out and filled your lungs with air, you could hardly breathe in there. "Would you relax?" Ahsoka laughed once the two of you got ahead of your masters. "Sorry," You stuttered, rubbing your hands up and down the length of your arms in attempt to rub away the goosebumps the mere sound of his voice had given you. "You are so head over heels." "Wrong way you two," You heard Anakin call out. You turned around on your heel to see that you had missed your turn toward the nursery. While you blushed with embarrassment Ahsoka dragged your frozen form down the right hallway. "He probably thinks I'm such a fool-" "Please for the love of Stars get out of your head." The togruta muttered as she set you down in front of the nursery door. "There you are," Master Kenobi said, poking his head out of the door. You let out a yelp, his appearance had caught you by surprise. "Are you feeling well, Y/N?" His blue eyes shifted towards Ahsoka with his brow furrowed in worry. "I just turned the wrong way coming here." You answered for yourself. "Silly girl," Obi-Wan sighed, ushering you and your friend into the dimly lit classroom. The children were sat in a circle, immersed in the blue glow of the hologram in the center of the room. A map of Coruscant and the planets that surrounded it flickered before their small and intrigued faces. "Master Kenobi!" One of the younglings babbled excitedly. Obi-Wan pressed his finger to his lips with a soft smile. "Listen carefully to Master Yoda, young one." "You're kind of a celebrity, aren't you?" Ahsoka teased, gently nudging Master Kenobi's shoulder. "Oh, he's always a big hit with the younglings." You quietly laughed. "Do you remember the other day at the library?" You asked your master. He smiled fondly at the memory and your heart fluttered at the way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he grinned "We were trying to find texts on the Coruscant system for today's lesson and some younglings also happened to be there learning how to use the data pads. Needless to say it ended in them all hanging onto Master Kenobi's cloak." Ahsoka and Anakin laughed while your master just shook his head and grinned. "Master Kenobi, would you like to introduce the padawans?" Master Yoda said, summoning Obi-Wan in front of the group of students. You admired him bathed in hologram stars and surrounded by planets. Just like you, they orbited around him. Without him there they'd be lost, he was their beacon, their guiding force.

You and Ahsoka's presentation on the Coruscant system was well received by the younglings. At the end of it you were bombarded with all sorts of questions and excited remarks. Now you were sat in a chair, not made for someone your size, watching the children intently color and label a map of the system they had just learned about. Your master soon pulled up a chair beside you, it looked even smaller beneath him. "Is something funny?" He playfully asked, watching as you snickered at the seat dwarfed under him. "Oh, nothing at all!" "Do you want a coloring page?" You teased, gesturing toward the stack in the middle of the table. "Not for me, but it seems Ahsoka and Anakin have already helped themselves." You looked across the room to see your brother and Ahsoka both hunched over a shared coloring page shading in all the various planets. "Does mine look alright, Master Kenobi?" One of the younglings, a small green Twi'Lek girl, asked. "It looks very nice! What do you think, Y/N?" Your master said. "That is lovely, Amida!" You gushed. "Everyone's looks so wonderful. I'm very proud of all of you."

Master Yoda had given you and Ahsoka free reign over his lesson so it was up to the two of you to plan all of the activities. Next was a game of what you had named Planet Tag. Each youngling was assigned a planet and if they were tagged by another student, they'd have to say a fact about that planet. There were two other extra planets left, so Ashoka and Anakin took it up to themselves to also play, but after a while they grew tired. "Want to switch out?" Anakin panted, slyly nudging Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Why don't Ahsoka and Y/N play?" He suggested, stroking his beard. "I'm beat, Master Kenobi." The togruta huffed. "Come on! It will be fun!" You said, tugging him towards the center of the room by his wrist. "I don't know, Padawan-" "Did you not listen to my presentation?" You gasped. "Do you not know your planets, Master Kenobi?" He sighed and stood up from his too small chair. "Well, now I must since you've challenged me." He said before teasingly narrowing his eyes at you. The two of you joined the children in their game and Obi-Wan kept getting tagged. He was tagged so many times that he started to run out of facts to say. "You've already said that one, Master Kenobi!" The younglings giggled. "Well then I guess the game is done." You announced, looking out at the small crowd of worn out children in front of you.

You ended the class by reading a story. All the younglings gathered in front of you on the carpet, all surrounding your Master who was sat in the center of them. It didn't take long until the younglings grew sleepy, some fell asleep with their heads in Obi-Wan's lap, other's leaned up against him while they snored softly. In the very back row even Anakin and Ahsoka could be seen nodding off, leaned up against each other's backs for support. "I think that's enough of that." You said, watching as Obi-Wan smiled fondly down at the youngling asleep in his lap. "Very good job, Y/N." Master Kenobi quietly congratulated as he stroked the head of the sleeping wookie in his lap. "Thank you, Master." You replied. After a long moment of quiet, Obi-Wan spoke again. "I remember when you and your brother were younglings." He said with a fond laugh. "You've grown up a lot since then. I'm very proud of you, Y/N." Yet again your master had you blushing, you were thankful that the lights of the classroom had since dimmed. "Get some rest, young one." "I can't fall asleep in here." You laughed with a shake of your head. Obi-Wan stealthily stood up and tip toed his way over the sleeping children curled up on the floor until he finally made his way to you and sat down on the floor again beside you. "Sleep," He repeated, patting his shoulder. You hesitantly rested your head against him, letting the warm smell of his skin and his robes lull you to sleep.

let me know if you’d like to be added to my obi taglist! also feel free to send in requests my ask box is open and in need of some lovin’. thanks for reading! <3

[stolen-pen-name23]

hello! how about #8- “You’re looking a little pale.” and/or #15 “I’m fine… just a little dizzy.” with Obi-Wan and Dooku?

Hi Kate!!! Thanks for the prompt!! // from these prompts // prompts now closed!

I have no idea when Dooku actually left the order, so I made it up for my purposes. Obi-Wan is still a padawan here, but he's like 19-20ish.

Read on Ao3 (or below the cut)

Here ya go!

---

The floor of an unfamiliar starship is not the most pleasant place to wake up.

Admittedly, the cold, hard floor of a starship is not the worst place Obi-Wan has ever woken up, but it certainly isn’t the most ideal place to come back into consciousness on.

He blinks, focusing his vision on his surroundings. The space he is in is barren but sleek. He can tell that the ship he has found himself on is a nice ship.

Groaning, he assesses himself for injuries. Aside from some slight motion sickness from laying on the floor of a ship in flight, Obi-Wan is physically unharmed.

He pushes himself to his feet and carefully inches his way down the short corridor. Peering into the cockpit, he can see the side profile of… no. It can’t be.

“You’re awake,” Dooku says plainly without looking at him.

“Master Dooku?” Obi-Wan questions.

“Actually, it’s ‘Count’ now. I’ve had a bit of a title change.”

Yes, that was right. Dooku left the Order a couple years ago when Obi-Wan was still in his early teens. He doesn’t know much about Dooku’s departure other than that it was due to a difference in ideology. Obi-Wan is not sure what that ideology may be. The other Jedi hardly speak of it. Qui-Gon never does.

“What am I doing here?” Obi-Wan asks cautiously.

“No pleasantries for your Grandmaster?”

“I see no reason for them,” Obi-Wan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve only met you a handful of times. Oh, and you kidnapped me.”

“Fine, we’ll skip the salutations then,” Dooku says. “You’re here for a reason that you will see shortly.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. Of course, he isn’t going to get a straight answer.

“How wonderfully vague, though I suppose you are more forthcoming than most kidnappers.”

“I presume you have experience with them then?”

“It cannot be helped that so many people want me,” Obi-Wan smirks.

“A lot of arrogance for a young man who does not know where he is.”

“Call it a character flaw.”

Obi-Wan looks down at his hands.

“You’re wondering why I have not bound you,” Dooku says.

Obi-Wan shrugs his shoulders. “The thought did cross my mind. As I mentioned, this is not exactly my first time getting kidnapped.”

“Why would I have you bound? You are not my prisoner Obi-Wan.”

“Oh really? I do not remember choosing to be here.”

“You will choose to be here.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t care for the certainty in Dooku’s tone.

“If I’m not your prisoner, why did you take my lightsaber?”

“You’re not my prisoner, but I do not need any hotheaded padawans getting any funny ideas before we get where we need to go.”

“And where may that be?” Obi-Wan tries again.

The Force seems to thrum around them and dread pools in Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“A looking glass, of sorts,” Dooku answers.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. This lineage is so weird.

“Must you be so cryptic all the time?” Obi-Wan asks. “Why not just tell me where we are going?”

“I could tell you, or I could let you see for yourself,” Dooku says. With that, the ship slips out of hyperspace and glides towards a green planet.

“Where are we?” Obi-Wan asks again.

Dooku plucks at levers and pushes at buttons, taking his sweet time in answering Obi-Wan’s question. “This planet does not have a name, though there are several places throughout the galaxy that are like it. Rare as they are, they are places of great import for individuals like us.”

“Individuals like us?”

“Force-sensitives.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the way Dooku says the words, like their shared abilities somehow make them the same.

They are not the same.

“So why are we here?”

“You are here to see your destiny.” The statement comes out simple and sure.

Oh, Obi-Wan does not have a good feeling about this at all.

***

The ship lands in an unassuming clearing in an unassuming forest on an unassuming planet.

Dooku makes Obi-Wan get off the ship first, much to his annoyance. It would have been very easy to steal the ship if only Dooku had gone first.

“I advise you stay close,” Dooku says, clearly having already thought about Obi-Wan’s would be escape plans. “This forest is not a place you want to be alone in at night without a communicator. I would hate for you to get lost.”

Obi-Wan looks around and gets the sense that Dooku is right. Obi-Wan has his fair share of survival skills learned through a mixture of experience and traditional Temple-based training, but that does not mean he wants to put them to use.

Dooku takes the lead, but even then, Obi-Wan feels as though he is being watched.

The forest is not as unassuming as Obi-Wan initially believed. His bad feeling intensifies with every step he takes — the Force pulsing through his veins tells him to be careful.

It is not long before the bad feeling turns physical. The longer they walk, the worse Obi-Wan begins to feel. It started as a nagging headache blooming in the back of his skull. Now, he fights dark spots that dance behind his eyes.

“You’re looking a little pale,” Dooku says in a way that is both deeply condescending and somehow still somewhat caring.

Obi-Wan takes a few labored breaths and tries to blink back the dark spots from his vision. He rests a palm on a tree trunk and leans against it. “I’m fine… just a little dizzy.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

Obi-Wan whips his head over to Dooku and immediately regrets the fast movement as it sends another wave of nausea through him. “What did you do to me?”

“It is not me. It is your attachment to the light. That is the source of your weakness. Practitioners of the light side don’t do so well in places like this.”

Dooku hands him a canteen and Obi-Wan eyes it warily.

Dooku sighs and rolls his eyes. “Would I have gone to the trouble of taking you all this way just to poison you? Drink.”

Obi-Wan accepts the canteen.

“The light is not my weakness. It is my strength,” Obi-Wan says after a long draught. He hands the canteen back to Dooku.

“Maybe,” Dooku says. “But not here.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep, centering breath and tries to remain calm. Wherever he is, he gets the feeling that he absolutely should not be here. He carries on anyway.

Twigs snap and leaves crunch under his feet until he notices them start to dampen. Solid ground turns soggy the farther they walk. They approach the gaping maw of a cavern, and at its face lies a spring — the source of the mud. Light dances on half of its surface while the other half lingers in the shadow of the cave.

“I presume this is where you are taking me?” Obi-Wan asks, unable to pull his gaze from the spring.

“Very astute,” Dooku says. “Keep going.”

The mud under his feet squelches and sticks, almost as if nature itself protests his movements. Obi-Wan does not want to keep going. Everything inside of him is telling him not to keep going.

Get out of here, Obi-Wan. It’s not safe here, Obi-Wan. It’s dangerous here, Obi-Wan.

The voice in his head telling him to stop almost wins, but his body is weakened by the dark energy that pulses through this place and Dooku is pushing him along. His feet drag and he is brought forth towards the spring.

Dooku kicks the back of his knees and he falls to the ground. His hands sink into the mud.

Now on his knees, Obi-Wan finds himself staring at his own reflection on the surface of the water.

“What is so special about this?” Obi-Wan asks between labored breaths.

“I’ve already told you.”

Obi-Wan looks back at the water and finds himself staring at someone new. No. Not someone new. Himself. Older. But it is undeniably him.

His Padawan brain is gone and a beard covers his face. His brows are set in a harsh look of concern — the same one Qui-Gon makes fun of him for, though there is nothing funny about the scene that begins to play out in front of him now.

A fire. A fury. The Jedi Temple under siege. Scorch marks. The gleam of sabers and the blue bolts of blasters.

Everyone dead or dying.

Everyone except him.

“This is a trick. This can’t be real,” Obi-Wan says, but he cannot tear his eyes away from the water’s reflection.

“Of course it is. Don’t you see?” Dooku implores. “This is your destiny.”

Obi-Wan shivers, the cold of the Dark Side raising gooseflesh across his skin. He can feel his body trying to submit under the pressure of the Dark Side, even as his spirit resists. The pressure builds and his body trembles. He feels as though he is about to pass out and he is sure he would have, were it not for a familiar voice that calls out.

“That’s enough, Dooku,” Qui-Gon says. “Let him go.”

Hope sings in Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Padawan,” Dooku says. “Good of you to join us.”

“Let. Him. Go.” Qui-Gon’s strong voice echoes through the cavern.

“I’m not holding him and he is not my prisoner. He looks into the waters of the Dark Side purely of his own volition.”

Qui-Gon ignites his blade and strides toward Obi-Wan. Dooku ignites his own saber and blocks Qui-Gon’s path.

“Do not interrupt him, Padawan.”

“Do not call me that,” Qui-Gon hisses. “And get out of my way.”

“He needs to finish this on his own.”

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon says. “Don’t look at that. There is nothing for you there.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan squeaks out, sounding more like a scared youngling than the young man that he actually is. “I don’t like it here.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon says. “We can leave. Just look away from the water.”

Obi-Wan wants to look away from the water, but its pull is that of a siren call. Irresistible.

“Master Dooku said my destiny is in here.”

“Master Dooku is a liar. Come with me. Please Padawan, just look away from the water and come with me.”

“You are making a mistake, Qui-Gon.”

“The only mistake I made was taking my eyes off of him. I knew you had changed, but kidnapping? You’ve resulted to kidnapping padawans now?”

“Look at him, he is hardly a youngling anymore. You could make him a knight tomorrow if you knew how to let go. But either way, drastic measures have to be taken to show him the path he should follow.”

“This is not his path,” Qui-Gon says. “He will never join you. He will never join the Dark Side.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon says firmly. “He’ll never join you. Obi-Wan… he’s… he’s different. He’s good. Even your ichor cannot taint his light.”

“Even the most righteous Jedi are tempted by the dark.”

“Not him. Never him.”

Obi-Wan can feel the strength of Qui-Gon’s convictions, his hope, through their bond. He clings to it like a drowning man clings to a rope and with what remains of his strength, he pulls himself from the dark waters that threaten to consume him.

“Master?” Obi-Wan questions weakly.

“You are making a mistake, Obi-Wan,” Dooku says. “Only pain and misery await you if you stay on your current path. You saw it yourself and you shall see it again.”

“The future is in motion,” he says shakily. “Nothing is set in stone.”

“Don’t be naive, Obi-Wan. Remain on your path, and the future you saw remains inevitable.”

Obi-Wan swallows back the lump in his throat. “Regardless, there is no future where I follow you.”

Obi-Wan staggers forward. His fingers grasp for his lightsaber, but he knows he is in no condition to take on Dooku. To his relief and to his surprise, Dooku does not reach for his own saber. He stands to the side and lets Obi-Wan climb back up the hill. He does not look angry, only disappointed. There is not much time for Obi-Wan to ponder this before Dooku shakes his head and turns back, walking out the way they came in.

Qui-Gon watches Dooku leave, never taking his piercing gaze off of his former master until he has blended fully into the shadows. With his disappearance, Qui-Gon darts down the hill towards Obi-Wan. Rocks and loose dirt rolls down the hill with each of Qui-Gon’s heavy steps, but it does not slow him down.

The sight of his Master and the security of knowing he was coming to save him makes some of the fight die down inside of him. He trips over his own feet and falls forward on the slippery hill. Mud and dying leaves stick to his robes and his skin while the smell of decay that accompanies a forest floor fills his nostrils.

He just wants to get out of here.

Though it seems he will not have to wait much longer. Strong hands grab his arms and drag him to his feet. Qui-Gon dusts off his shoulders while giving him a once-over.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not… not really.”

“That was a yes or no question, Obi-Wan.”

“No,” Obi-Wan says, trying to put more strength behind his words. “He cannot hurt me.”

“Actually, he can, but I’m glad he did not.”

Obi-Wan offers Qui-Gon a weakened smile.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Qui-Gon says, lending Obi-Wan a steadying arm.

Obi-Wan leans on his Master and lets him guide him home.

[crispyjenkins]

“Chosen One Obi” sequel sneak peek

(i’ve been fighting the same prompt for a month now, and this chapter of hunger is even worse and it is just   n  o  t   happening this week. seriously, this is the worst block i’ve had on a story in years, and it’s exhausting and i’ve tried giving them both breaks, tried scrapping it all and starting over, flipping povs, changing the outline, butttt nada.

so! while i can’t give a sneak peek of my current secret project, i have been thinking about that chosen one obi prompt again, and thought y’all might like to see what i’ve been playing with in terms of a sequel. ‘think i might get the next dha kar’ta out while i figure out what tf is going on with my brain (ღT◡Tღ)

Alt+R to Quick Reblog on Desktop, Hold the Reblog Symbol to Quick Reblog on Mobile

-

  When Quinlan steps into his buir’s cantina in Foxsoll, looking like he’d seen the second coming of the Sith, Obi-Wan is too surprised to focus on the whispers the Force is trying to weasel into his mind. 

  Frozen behind the bar, Quinlan comes to him through the early-evening crowds, and how many times had he thought about visiting the Temple? About checking in on his friends? How many times had he talked himself out of it?

  “Obi-Wan?” Quinlan asks, as if afraid of the answer; Obi-Wan hasn’t heard that name here in far too long, not since Jango and Jaster had last been around.

  “Quinlan,” he whispers back, and wonders if someone had spiked the papuur’gal at lunch.

  Blinking, Quinlan looks him up and down quickly as something seems to connect in his mind. “Oh,” he says, looking floored, and the Force refuses to tell Obi-Wan what conclusion he had come to. “It’s you?”

  Obi-Wan frowns worriedly. “Are you alright, Quin?”

  “It’s you? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

  Chalmun senses the change in mood immediately, latching onto the edges of Obi-Wan’s mind as he all but storms out of the back storeroom with a few choice Xaczik swears on his lips. Obi-Wan doesn’t get the chance to tell him Quinlan is a friend, because Chalmun takes one look at Quinlan’s expression and comes to a realisation of his own, before grabbing the both of them by the back of their tunics to drag them to the private lounge. Obi-Wan knows better than to protest, but Quinlan yelps in surprise.

   Chalmun hasn’t been a Journeyman Protector in almost five years, but he hasn’t lost the bearing, nor the wall of blasters and bowcasters at the back of the lounge; Quinlan takes this all in quickly, but as soon as Chalmun sets them on their feet, he’s right back Obi-Wan’s space.

  “Why the kriff didn’t you say anything?” he demands, distressed and angry, and Obi-Wan automatically reaches out for his mind, trying to project calm and peace.

  “I’m so sorry, Quin, but there was Xanatos, and the Mand’alor found me and I didn’t– I didn’t think the Temple would want me–”

  Stunned, Quinlan looks from Obi-Wan to Chalmun and back again. “Wait, no– No, Obi, why didn’t you tell us you were the Chosen One.”

  Ah, this nonsense again.

  Obi-Wan deflates and glares at his buir over Quinlan’s shoulder. “It’s nice to see the crazies hadn’t died out,” he scoffs, and Chalmun just shakes his head.

  “You know everyone can feel it, cub.”

  Quinlan knows enough Shyriiwook to at least guess what Chalmun says. “How long has he been like this?”

  It takes Obi-Wan a moment to realise Quinlan isn’t even speaking to him anymore, Chalmun giving a great shrug. “Always.”

  “But that...” Quilan reaches out a gloved hand, Obi-Wan allowing him to almost touch him, to skate over the Force just above his skin.

  “Anyone with a midichlorian count above baseline can feel it,” his buir adds unhelpfully. “It’s caused us quite a few problems, when the less savoury sort have come poking around.”

  “Buir,” he sighs, but allows Quinlan to touch him fully, hand pressed along and down his neck. “Quin, you knew what I felt like before, I don’t–”

  “Yeah, you’ve always felt like this,” Quinlan breathes. “But not like this.”

  “What the kriff does that even mean.”

  “If... Kriff, you’d been at the Temple longer than anybody in the crèche!”

  “I am even less sure of what you’re trying to say now.”

  Shaking his head, Quinlan looks up at Chalmun with a mutual understanding that Obi-Wan does not share. “Does it get easier to look at, the longer you’re around him?”

  “Indeed. He is still a lantern, I could find him from the other side of the planet, but you stop thinking about it.”

  At Quinlan’s sheepish expression, Obi-Wan sighs and translates for him. 

  “Master Plo called you that, too,” he says to Obi-Wan after a moment. “A lantern.”

  “I’m not the ‘Chosen One’, Quinlan.” He steps out from under Quinlan’s hand and glares at the both of them, trying to ignore the way the Force chimes in his head like he’d chosen the wrong answer on a gameshow holo. “Why wouldn’t the masters have sensed it?” If what he remembers about the prophecy is correct, someone would have noticed before now, before Bandomeer.

  “Obes, I think we were all just used to you. Kriff, hey, you remember the Zabraki woman, who came to write about the architecture of the Temple? Maker, we should have realised then, she even called you ‘the chosen’...”

  “Perhaps you will have better luck with him,” Chalmun rumbles. “He will not listen to me.”

  “That sounds in character.” Smiling, Quinlan shuffles to pull a datapad out of the pack over his shoulders. “I’m a Shadow now, Obes, Master Tholm wouldn’t hear of it until I’d given it a shot. I’m here on a mission from the High Council, from Master Windu, there’s some rumours in the lower levels of Coruscant about a Force Sensitive on Concord Dawn. And, when Master Qui-Gon finally faced du Crion, he let slip he’d been looking for the Chosen One as well.”

  Xanatos du Crion. The reason Obi-Wan is even hiding in Mandalore Space in the first place, a dark shadow that has not left his mind since he had tracked Obi-Wan here through Jango. 

  “Master Ti thought it all too much to be coincidence,” Quinlan is saying, holding out the datapad that Obi-Wan doesn’t even bother looking at. It is time, the Force whispers to him, we can hide you no longer. “And then as soon as I touched down, I felt you, Obi-wan. The– The Agricorp masters said you never made it to them, that you would were still in the spaceport when du Crion bombed it. No one knows you’re alive.”

 Chalmun takes the pad instead, looking it over even though Aurebesh isn’t his strong point. “The Mand’alor and I have been keeping him safe out here, we knew others would seek out his power. And I knew we could only do that for so long; it seems we’ve finally run out of luck.”

-

Mando’a: buir —“parent”, gender neutral papuur’gal — a Mandalorian wine, probably akin to a white wine

[megafrost4]

UMBARA

Episode 7: Darkness on Umbara

The first step towards loyalty is trust

Krell is helping Obi-Wan’s 212th to meet Anakin ARC trooper Fives accompanying 501st

Anakin: does my battalion have to do everything?

“You hangin in there, Tup?” 🥺

“so far, so good, Captain” ☺️

Walkers charging the Umbarans…this is a spooky planet😳

One trooper didn’t even land off the ship and got shot…🥺

Rex: The other battalions are counting on us!

Tup: I can’t even see the enemy

Jesse: that’s why they’re called the shadow people, Tup!

OMG those monsters 😱

Hardcase: that’s not right!

Way to go Fives throwing a grenade down 🙌🙌

Nice work, Fives

Fives: Hardcase, yeh?

Hardcase: that’s what they call me

Rex! Hello bae ❤️

Rex: the General’s given you an order

Anakin: good thinking, Rex ❤️

HE TRUSTS HIS CAPTAIN! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING HERE, FILONI...BUT IT'S OK, WE DESPISED KRELL FROM MINUTE ONE

Jesse: good old Oddball, always on target

Hardcase: that’ll teach em

Krell...🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Anakin: I can’t just leave my men

Rex: don’t worry about a thing, sir 🥺

Anakin: you won’t find a more loyal trooper anywhere ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Rex: it is an honor to serve you, General ✊

Krell is a BITCH 🤬

Rex: just treat him with respect, and we’ll all get along fine 🥺

Krell: anyone else wanna stop & play with the animals? Keep moving!

They’ve been keeping up for 12 hours???? Baes…I’m so sorry 🥺🥺

Krell: the men don’t need rest 🤬🤬🤬FUCK YOU🤬🤬🤬

HOW DARE YOU CALL HIM BY HIS NUMBER 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

With all due respect, sir…

Krell: are you questioning my order? 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex is trying SO DAMN HARD to be respectful

Krell is the rudest bitch 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Hardcase

Jesse: well, leave it to Hardcase to dive in head first 😏

Fives: well, what if he’s wrong, then what?

Rex: this isn’t the time for debate

Tup: eh, it’s too quiet out there

Hardcase: YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS????

Jesse: I think Hardcase made em mad!

Hardcase: MAKE EM EAT HEAT!!!!

Rex: if we can pull them back we can see them, if we can see them, we can hit them YES BAE, LOOK AT HIM

FALL BACK

Krell: feeble minded clones, get in there and save their necks! 🤬🤬

Hardcase: HAHAHA WHERE YA GOING? GET BACK HERE!

CT7567 do you have a malfunction in your design🤬🤬🤬

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU I WILL KILL YOU

Krell HOW DARE YOU JAB HIM IN THE CHEST 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Meanwhile, Fives 😳

Rex: not clones, MEN 🤬

I also have another duty to protect those men

Krell: all right Captain Rex, your opinion has been noted

HE ADDRESSED HIM BY HIS NAME 😳

FILONIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Episode 8: The General

The path of ignorance is guided by fear

Rex: Jesse take the right flank, Dogma, take the left

Kix: you’ll be ok, buddy, this will ease the pain 🥺❤️

He still calls him Captain Rex, so…yay? 😒

Jesse: you know I wasn’t sure Krell was crazy before, but now, I’m sure

No reckon, no air support *bangs head with helmet* GOSH YOU'RE SO ADORABLE JESSE

Rex takes Fives aside

Rex: that’s the price of war, Fives

Fives: you believe that, or is that what you were made to believe? 🤨

Rex: I believe my code, that’s what I believe 😠

Rex, Fives and Hardcase each lead a group

Oh, skrag…

Dang these centipedes are awful 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

Kix: I got him…I got him KIX TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS GO OFF

Kix drags him away

Good job Rex!

Krell watching up top like a 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬 BITCH

Rex got yeeted by the force of the blast but got up like a boss yes! HE'S SO GOOD LIKE THAT...MY MAN CAN HANDLE ANYTHING!

Rex just shooting him as he walks by, so casually 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Rex: hey, Kix, leave it 🤣

Krell just watching like a 🤬BITCH

Sergeant Appo with Krell

Kix: help me with the wounded!

We gotta get these guys out of here 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Rex: forget it we have to leave them 🥺

Kix: we can’t just leave them 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

You sound like General Krell, now…😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

CT7567 where are you? 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

“Or you will be relieved of duty…” 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex: I’m trusting Fives and Hardcase

Hardcase: I’m sorry, that’s just how I am…made me, hyperactive I guess AND WE ADORE YOU FOR IT, HON ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hardcase: uh…how am I supposed to do this exactly….🤨

Fives: figure it out! 😒

Hardcase: figure it out, how about you figure it out…I'd prefer a good fight to all this sneaking around 😒😒😒😒😒😒

Fives: I never thought that would actually work 🤨

Hardscase: so how do I start this thing? 🤨

Fives: well, how should I know? Start pressing buttons! 😠

Hardcase: giggling as he spins

Fives shooting them upside down laughing THIS IS SO WHOLESOME

Omg they’re so adorable! Damn Rex, with his rocket launcher like yes

Them laughing is so precious they are having so much fun!

WAY TO GO BOYS!

ATTA BOY, HARDCASE

Krell: impressive…🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Flames seen in his eyes…could it be more obvious? 😒😒😒😒

Rex: despite Hardcase’s flying, you two saved us all 🤣

Rex is upset they lost a lot of men…clutches his fist 🤬

FILONIIIIIIIII

Episode 9: Plan of Dissent

The wise man leads, the strong man follows.

Hardcase checking up on Fives working on a ship

Gosh, Rex is so beautiful

Krell: blasted insurgents🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex cuts his eyes angrily 😠😠😠😠😠😠😠😠😠

Rex: what can I do? I tried to reason with him

Jesse: great, another suicide mission 😒

Dogma: obviously General Krell knows what he’s doing

Fives: HE HAS NO RESPECT FOR US TELL THEM BAE!

Rex: sir, with all do respect…

He is still treating Krell with respect REX YOU ARE TOO GOOD

Krell: are you troops now pilots? 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex: but they are able to learn and adapt quickly ❤️

Rex: the…assault on the capital will continue as planned

Jesse: so that’s it 🤨

Fives: we just do our plan

Rex: you will be court-marshalled 😠

Jesse: come on if Hardcase can do it

Tup: yeah, he was just crashing 🤣

Jesse: uh, here comes Dogma 😒

Dogma: what’s going on? 🤨

Hardcase: uh, nothing 😳

Rx: we are not independent of one another

Fives: but I am not just another number, none of us are! 😭

Hardcase: I got it…bumps

Fives: Hardcase, what are you doing? 🤨

Hardcase: If I knew I wouldn’t be doing it! 😱😱😱😱😱

Krell: what’s going on down here?? 🤬

Fives: uh, nothing’s out of control here…uuuuuhhh, we are decrypting the alien hardware, sir

Krell: who is this? What’s your CT number

Hardcase: got it. I got it. It’s easy…😳🤗

Fives: what are you crazy???? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hardcase: it’s a malfunction, no harm done

Sir…the booby trap, went off 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

…if I had not taken control…

Fives: nice work

Hardase: we can sneak in and be out before Krell knows anything

Jesse: I’m in…we just need a plan

Fives: already got one 😎

Rex lets Hardcase, Jesse and Fives do their plan

Rex: I can’t help you if you get caught

Clones snoring is so cute❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dogma wakes Tup up, noticing they’re gone

He wants to tell the General

Dogma: do you really want to be court-marshalled?

Rex: smiles curiously at them flying off

Jesse: you know, I’m only doing this cause I don’t like him 😒

Hardcase: I’m just doing this for fun 🤣❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Huge space fight!

Fives: Easy Hardcase, don’t get an itchy trigger finger

Rex took responsibility so they could not get in trouble, aw 🥺

Hey, where are you two going? I asked you a question troopers!

Dogma and Tup…HE IS YOUR CAPTAIN

Dogma: on second thought, it was not that important

Rex: yeah, that’s what I thought 🤬

[missiles whooshing]

Hardcase: this is for the 501st, do it for them!

Jesse: if I know Hardcase, we better leave

Damit Hardcase! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rex smirks when he sees it explode in the sky

Rex turns to look over his shoulder

Krell has summoned them 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex takes initiative once again…it was my idea 🥺

Rex: Fives!

Rex…poor things…

Krell: make no mistake for crossing me you will pay the price 🤬🤬

FILONIIIIII

Episode 10: Carange of Krell

Our actions define our legacy

Rex asks one more time to reconsider

Krell: some clones are just…defective 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Krell: I’m afraid they’ll need to be disposed of 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Rex: what? But sir! 🥺

Fives: eh don’t beat yourself up about it…we made our choice 🥺

Rex feels so bad, he tried so hard 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Kix and Tup are lined up to shoot…led by Dogma

Jesse: uh, I’ve officially lost my sense of humor

Fivs: I hope you can live with yourself Dogma 😠

Fives: wait, this is wrong, we all know it 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

We follow orders..we are men!

They shoot behind them

BITCH! TELL EM, BAE! GO OFF, BAE Krell growls

Rex holds his ground

The enemy has our weapons and our armor

THEY’RE SHOOTING AT EACH OTHER

STOP SHOOTING AT EACH OTHER

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rex: everyone stop firing we’re shooting at our own men! dramatic opera music WITH ME GROSS SOBBING IN THE CORNER

Dammit

Tup: this can’t be happening what have we done?

Waxer is still alive! Kix found him

Rex: Waxer tell me who gave you the orders to attack us?

Waxer: it was General Krell

We thought they were wearing our armor

He dies as a tear falls😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rex tightens his jaw

“We all know who did this, but we don’t know why…what I’m about to ask is treacherous

My orders are we arrest General Krell for treason against the Republic"

MARCH ON KRELL

Rex breaks Fives and Jesse out

Rex: General Krell, you’ve been relieved of duty

Krell: it’s treason, then 😳 PARALLELISM PARALLELISM

I will not be underminded by creatures bred in some laboratory

Rex: lower you weapon Dogma…

Rex takes his helmet off: I used to believe that being a good soldier met following orders…we are not droids

Krell: you should have listened to the ARC Captain from the beginning, captain. He was right, I was using you…evil laugh

Now he just did the Bane-Batman break on his back! 😱

Tup come on, Tup…yes, the creature Tup: I stunned him, sir

Rex: nice work, Tup ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Rex on that platform like a BOSS

Krell: a new power has arised the Republic will fall apart from the inside

Rex: you’re an agent of Dooku

Krell: not yet

Dogma: you made me kill my brothers! 🥺

Rex: I said, On. Your. Knees.

Krell: you’re shaking aren’t you?🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

You can’t do it, can you?🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

Dogma shot him ”I …I had to..he betrayed us🥺🤬

Dogma gets ushered off…and that’s it???? WHERE IS HE

Rex looks so sad

Fives: we did it, we took Umbara

Rex: what’s the point of all of this, why? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Fives: I don’t know, sir

Rex: then what? We’re soldiers. What happens to us then? 🥺🥺🥺

FILONIIIIIIIIII TELL US MORE PLEASE! THIS NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED! THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES THEY HAVE EVER GONE THROUGH, AND IT JUST GETS SWEPT UNDER THE RUG??????? COME ON

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Revenge of the Star Wars Wednesday

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the dashboard... (It’s an entire chapter of the same au as This Free Day Thursday I did a ways back, where a splinter cell of the Rebellion hands Luke over to Vader in a deal with the devil. The context: Vader got called away before getting a chance to tell Luke what was going on, and had to leave the poor guy in his hyperbaric egg chamber of doom. Which is air conditioned all to heck because that suit gets toasty. Unfortunately, Luke is from a very warm climate, and high powered air conditioning does not agree with him. At all. He’s having a bad day by the time Vader gets back and Many Blankets are required.)

Luke dreamed of falling.

"Alright, Skywalker. This is your stop."

He saw Leia screaming.

"You're wrong! You're wrong!"

She was calling for him. He knew that she was.

"I'm here!" He tried to call back to her, "I'm here, Leia! Help me!"

But the wind scattered his words, and he fell.

He fell past Leia's horrified face, towards a range of mountains. Faces he might have recognized formed and disintegrated in the snow around him, and the wicked looking peak directly below.

With a choked cry, Luke flailed his arms and met with stiff resistance. Well. More soft than stiff. And heavy. Very heavy. Slowly, by degrees, Luke became aware of his surroundings. He could barely move. Something was holding him down on a-

A bed.

He was on a bed.

On a Star Destroyer. 

Everything came back to Luke in a rush. Kobyvern. The handoff. The cell. The cold. 

And Vader.

Luke opened his eyes. He didn't hear the respirator, but the sense of foreboding looming over him suggested that the dark lord was somewhere near. It was imperative that Luke not be so...so vulnerable when he returned. 

Why couldn't he move?! Had he been strapped down? Panic flooded Luke's veins.

No no no, take it slow, Skywalker! Breathe in- breathe out. 

When his heart had resumed a slightly more normal pace, Luke took a slow breath and tried to sit up.

This turned out to be more difficult than he'd expected. If he craned his neck, he could just make out heavy black cloth beneath the blankets, wound around him and pinning his arms to his sides. Well, that was one way of keeping someone from escaping. Arguably more embarrassing than handcuffs, but also preferable to them. 

The amount of effort it took to free just one arm was a thorough enough distraction that Luke didn't hear the door hiss open. He pulled at the cape and blankets, already cursing the cold his free arm hinted at. It was tempting to nestle down into the pile of blankets -- there had to be at least four of them -- and let the warmth drag him back down into sleep. But that would doubtless be akin to trusting the hospitality of a Hutt. You didn't get something for nothing. There was going to be a price to pay for this, and Luke wasn't sure he'd be able to afford it.

Luke tried to push himself up into a sitting position and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand appeared from his peripheral vision to push him back against the pillows.

"Rest easy, son. You've had a hard day."

Vader had returned.

It was difficult to know what bothered Luke more: the uncharacteristic gentleness in Vader's hands, or that he'd called him son.

Luke recoiled as far from Vader as he could.

It wasn't that far.

"You are not in danger, young one. Be still." Vader held out a placating hand.

His jaw ached from clenching and chattering, but Luke gritted his teeth again nonetheless. "I'm s- s-s s'posed to b-believe that-t-t?"

Ugh. It was still cold outside the blankets.

He did not like that he could actually hear amusement in Vader's voice when the man answered, "If I wished harm to come to you, young one, do you really think you would be here?"

Luke picked at the covers and tried to scowl. But being in close proximity to Darth Vader for an extended period of time didn’t exactly bolster one’s courage. The most he could muster was an anxious frown. Don’t let him get to you. He’s manipulating you. Waiting for you to let your guard down. Then he’ll bring in the torture droid. 

“Yeah.” He narrowed his eyes. “D-don’t trus-s-t you.”

Alright, that might’ve been a bit too blunt. 

Vader inclined his head -- helmet? How much of that was his head? Did Luke actually want to know? -- and made a sound curiously like a sigh. “That is to be expected. We were not introduced under particularly favorable circumstances.”

Luke stared at him incredulously. Introduced? As if they were diplomats crossing paths at a senator’s ball? Introduced?! 

This was the man who just...slaughtered anything and anyone that got in his way. He was there for every horrible thing that happened to Leia. He was the reason Luke was stuck trying to figure out the Force on his own. He was the reason Luke was alone! And here he was, upset that Luke didn’t trust him?

“My medical droid informs me that your core temperature has...improved. But you are still feeling ill effects.” If Vader felt as awkward as he looked, he kept it out of his voice admirably. A little too calmly, he lifted a steaming cup from somewhere behind him and held it out.

Luke shrank back. “I d-don’t want it.”

Vader’s shoulders tensed, just a fraction. “It is not poisoned, young one. Nor does it contain a truth drug, or whatever else outlandish theories you have concocted.”

“You c-could be l-l-lying.”

“I could. But I have no reason to be.”

Luke could think of a few reasons. Pure cruelty came to mind. Or lulling him into a false sense of security. After all the bluster about capturing the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, having a tea party with a dark lord wasn’t really on the agenda.

He jumped when the cup was pressed into his hands.

“You do not have to drink it. But the heat will benefit you.” Vader leaned back into a chair that most certainly had not been there before. “Transitioning from Tatooine to the climate of long-term space travel is...taxing.”

No, transitioning from getting thrown out of a ship to getting locked in the Ice Pod is “taxing”, Luke thought, glaring into the cup.

Whatever liquid was inside, it was dark, and smelled almost earthy. Not caf, some kind of tea, perhaps? The steam curled up to bathe his face, and he could begrudgingly admit that it was doing him a world of good.

“My meditation chamber is not meant to hold such low temperatures for such an extended period of time,” Vader said suddenly. “The General’s summons, I fear, did not give me adequate time to reset the cooling system. You were never meant to experience that.”

Luke didn’t care if it was childish or not. He pulled his knees slowly up to his chest -- fighting through entirely too many blankets -- and rested the cup on them. He refused to look up. He would not make eye contact with his father’s killer.

Actually, where even are his eyes under there? 

“D-didn’t exp-p-pect the Empire to ap-p-p-pologize to a p-p-risoner,” he mumbled.

His stammer was decreasing, slowly. He thought a warm drink would certainly help, but he was not brave enough to risk whatever was in that cup.

“I would rather you did not think of yourself as a prisoner, but I understand that your experiences have not given you cause to believe otherwise,” Vader answered. “But you are correct: that was intended to be an apology. I will not allow such a thing to happen again.”

The cup seemed like porcelain. Impossibly delicate. But it held up well under Luke’s grip as it tightened. This was getting ridiculous. The handoff. The fall. The pod. The blankets. The tea. 

“Just…” 

Vader stilled. He cocked his head, as if listening intently. “Luke?”

It was too much.

He broke.

“Don’t c-c-call me that!”

“It is your name.”

“It’s m-m-my! Name!” Luke’s chest heaved. “You d-d-on’t use it! Stop p-p-pretending! I’m n-n-not going to tell you anyth-th-ing!”

I can’t, I can’t do this, Father. I didn’t want to cry, don’t let me cry! 

Vader leaned forward again. “Why do you believe that I am pretending?”

Was he kidding? 

Luke finally looked up at him. “Y-you k-kill Jedi,” he spat. “Like you k-killed my father.” 

And that was what broke the facade.

“Enough.” Vader reached down and took the tea from Luke.

He set it on the tray and whirled back to face the boy.

“Listen to me,” he growled. “Whatever Kenobi told you, whatever wild fictions he spun about your past, he lied.”

Luke’s shoulders hitched. He pulled back against the wall and turned his face back to his knees. “I d-d-on’t believe you!”

“Look at me!” 

Vader took his chin in one hand and pulled it up. “Look at me, Luke. He lied to you. And he lied to me. Why do you think I wear a mask? Do you even know what he did?”

“No no no-” Luke tried to shake his head. “W-why-?”

“Why would he lie to you?” Vader asked angrily. “Why, Luke, would he be so interested in making sure that you believed I killed your father? What did you do on Cymoon, before I knew your name?”

Vader’s anger shook the room, cutting the lights into fragments as shadow overtook them. But somehow, Luke didn’t feel that the anger was directed at him as much as it was at Obi-wan. They really had hated each other, then. But why would Obi-wan lie about his father’s death? He had his lights-

The lightsaber.

Luke’s gut churned.

Vader had his lightsaber now. His father’s lightsaber. And now it was in the possession of the man who had allegedly killed him.

Allegedly.

Allegedly?

Why was he even considering Vader’s words? This was Darth Vader! He was a liar- not this time

He was a monster -- maybe so 

“W-what do you want?” Luke’s voice cracked. “I d-d-on’t understand!” 

The hand on his chin pulled away without warning. The shadows retreated sullenly to pool around the chair. “I know.”

Vader raised his hand again. He hesitated when Luke flinched, then rested it on the crown of his head. “I know you don’t. Not yet. Use the Force, Luke.”

“What?”

Vader tilted his head back with a gentle push. “I know that you can. Stretch out with your feelings. What did you intend to do on Cymoon?”

It wasn’t enough to simply tell the boy the truth. He needed him to see. He needed him to understand. He was a pawn. They had both been pawns. For a moment he almost wished Kenobi lived, so that he could run him through again.

“What did you int-”

“Kill you!” Luke burst out. It came out with a tiny, exhausted sob. “I w-was going to kill you.” 

“Because?”

“B-because you k-killed my-”

“Because you thought that I had killed your father,” Vader interrupted sternly. “Because Obi-wan sent you, untrained, untested, into battle having told you that I was your great enemy in some noble quest to avenge a father you never had the chance to meet.”

“Stop.” Luke didn’t want to hear this. This was a kind of torture after all, wasn’t it? It was emotional. Psychological. But there could be no tactical benefit in telling him these things. Why was Vader telling him these things? Why not just kill him and be done with it?

“Who took you from your mother?” Vader’s earlier question rang in Luke’s ears.

A trickle of sweat dried cold on the back of his neck. What did Darth Vader know about his mother?

Do you really want to pull on that thread, Luke? 

“What do you want?” He tried. He tried so hard to keep the tears from coming. But he was tired and afraid, and so, so overwhelmed.

Vader’s hand smoothed his hair, disturbingly gentle. “I want you to understand that you are not alone, Luke. That you were never alone.”

He raised his other hand. Held Luke’s face between them.

“Do you know why Kenobi told you that I had killed your father?”

“Don’t-” Luke whispered brokenly. He couldn’t take it. Not this. Not him.

“Luke. Look at me. What does the Force tell you?”

“I don’t know-” Luke tried to pull away. Please don’t please don’t don’t tell me don’t change things don’t let it all be lies- “I don’t know!” 

“I did not kill your father.”

It was said with such an air of finality that it rang through the Force, even with Luke’s muffled attempts to read it.

“No,” he agreed. 

His world had a little crack, right at the edge. It was small now, but just the right pressure, and-

“I am your father.”

Crack. 

[sunnymiles]

HI SAM 🤍🤍 can i get a #28 with Ahsoka and Anakin :D

hey nessa!! thanks for the prompt <33

28: "feeling for each other in the dark”

from these prompts (i will still take requests!)

-

"Skyguy, I'm not even tired."

"Oh no Snips, I'm not falling for that one." She pouts at him, making sure to use her best pleading gaze, the one that always gets Rex.

"The healer said straight back to the room and then sleep."  

"But"-

"No arguing."

"You're never this much of a pain with Master Kenobi when he's hurt." 

Her arms cross, eyes rolling dramatically, a common occurrence in Anakin’s presence. Though, the twinge of pain that slices through her is a surprise. Sharp and jolting. She fights to keep it off her face, but Anakin’s quick, concerned frown speaks to her lack of success.

"Yes well, Obi-Wan can take care of himself." She blink doubtfully, unsure if she’s heard the words right. The oxymoron is almost laughable.

Anakin sighs, drawing out the silence between.

"And I may be slightly more scared of him, than I am of you alright?" The words rush out in a long string, and his cheeks flush bright red. Like they do around Senator Amidala.

Ahsoka snorts gleefully, jumping at the chance to taunt him. "It's just Obi."

"Yes well, you were not Obi's padawan for the entirety of your formative adolescence."

Her rebuttal- which was quite good- gets caught in her throat as a yawn overtakes her.

"Come on Snips, bed." Anakin nudges her shoulder gently, careful to avoid the bandages.

She can't find it in herself to argue.

“You need the rest after your ordeal.”

“Running for your life does tend to make one tired.” Just thinking about those creatures makes her skin feel too tight, her heartrate too fast.

She crawls into her bed, aching for comfort. Anakin absent-mindedly pulls the blanket up toward her. Tucking her in.

It’d be a much sweeter gesture if his eyes weren’t glazed, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

“Yeah.” There’s something odd laced into the tone, bitter and self-directed.

Ahsoka doesn’t have the energy to pick it apart, to overanalyze it like she usually would. Combing through his sentences for any inkling of the regret she knows he feels for choosing her as a padawan.

She doesn’t need that added to the weight of today.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything."

 "Okay.” A condescending laugh puffs from her chest, her thoughts focused on his disinterested stare, “You know, you can stop mothering me."

 His lips quirk downward almost too fast for her to notice, but her stomach plummets.

The familiar anxiety is festering, swirling inside her like a storm. It expresses itself, like always, with remarks bordering on too sharp, her tone too blunt to be joking.

This is why he hadn't picked her. She can't do anything right.

"Get some rest Ahsoka." His shoulders are uncharacteristically slumped on his way out, and she can’t let him leave after, well, that.

"I-I'm sorry. I do appreciate you. That was, uncalled, for."

He gives her a half-hearted grin, something only briefly resembling his normal smile. "You've had a long couple of days."

Understatement of the year.

"I get it."

He smirks at her one last time and leaves her to drooping eyes and a lonely room.

- Dark reptilian skin shines like night, darting in and out of her vision. The shrill hunting call echoing through the forest fuels her veins, screaming at her to run faster.

"Kalifa, you have to run!"

Claws drag menacingly against their metallic guns. She has to go, they all have to get out of here-

The speeder hums closer, the trees vibrating with anticipation.

No.

Kalifa, dead, on the jungle floor. Alone, a heap of limbs, lifeless and cold. Her own fault. She’s a failure.

"That one killed my son!" They’re going to find her, they’re going to kill her.

"Ahsoka we have to run!"

She wants to live.

"Ahsoka."

Run.

"Ahsoka!"

- He puts Ahsoka down, hoping she isn’t like him, hoping she actually sleeps.

After the ship had landed, he’d taken her immediately to the med-bay. One look at the dust blanketing her, suffocating her, the wheeze forced in every breath had made him anxious.

He had wanted to kill every one of those things. For touching his padawan. Tear them apart until the monstrosity of his rage, of his love, could be contained.

He can’t be reminded of the days that blur together, spent in limbo, hoping she was alive, needing her to be.

He can’t be reminded of the ever-present nausea that made him think he’d lost his brightest star, the girl so like a little sister to him.

A shriek cuts through his thoughts.

Ahsoka. 

He sprints. Not again, never again-

She's writhing uncontrollably in the small bed, whimpering. Hands fly at him in the dark, warding off an unseen foe. He catches them gently, running his thumbs along the tops. "Ahsoka!"

She keeps thrashing, and a part of Anakin aches. Never before has she seemed so young.

The faint tear tracks etched on her face, mark their way into new grooves on his heart.

"Hey, hey." She relaxes, blinking warily.

"It's okay. I'm here." Her eyes flit between his, frantic in their effort to find anchorage. He smiles softly, attempting to soothe her worry.

He thinks about leaving her, letting her deal with this alone. Anakin remembers a master’s gaze becoming stifling, judgmental. He doesn’t want to overwhelm her so soon after the ordeal, mother her too much.

And then he remembers the boy from Tatooine who only craved affection. Who wished for any semblance of love from a master so dedicated to the order.

He stays. 

The decision in his eyes calms her. He tries to radiate stability, assuredness, but well, its never been his strength.

She swallows heavily before leaning her head against his shoulder. Gentle and timid.

The weight of the space between them is heavy, cumbersome. She breaks it audaciously, his padawan to the bone, shattering the stillness with soft truth.

“I still think they’re after me.” If only he had arrived sooner, been a better master-

“It”- she flails a bit, “It feels so real still.”

There are no words to erase the demons, the guttural haunting. He knows how it can linger, the eternal shadow lingering. He offers the only comfort he’s ever known. Shares his own burden to ease her mind.

“I had nightmares about Maul for months after Naboo.”

“Really?” Wide eyes glint in the dark.

“Yeah.”

She snuggles closer into his side. Her warm presence soothes something in his chest. Returns a piece of himself, one he didn’t know was missing.

“It’s just so much sometimes.” He pauses letting her find the words herself.

“The war, the fighting, even the Jedi stuff.” At his glance, she backtracks.

“Sorry Master. Not you of course. I didn’t mean to overstep.” He cuts her off before she can retreat.

“No, Ahsoka. I understand. More than you know.”

He struggles to reconcile the peacemakers of the fabled stories to the soldiers of now. The gravity of their choices, the violent narrative they’ve prescribed to. Harsh honesty bites from his mouth, unfettered from the Council’s bias.

“They should not be sending children to war.”

Ahsoka huffs out a quick breath. She squeezes his arm, “You’re not that old yourself.”

“Better me than someone else.”

Her hum of disagreement fills the room, but they say no more. The silence is comfortable.

“I-I’m glad we ended up together Snips.” A soft snore interrupts him, and he looks down. 

She's dead asleep. Head conked out against his shoulder, mouth open slightly, it's adorable and endearing and wholesome and he wants to bottle this moment for forever.

He lays her softly back in the bed. The faint growl emerging from her at the repositioning making him smirk.

He places a chaste kiss to the crown of her montrals. A reminder that they are both safe, both here.

"Sleep well Snips." 

[izazov]

This prompt has been on my mind for ages. Today, the inspiration struck, resulting in this ficlet. The ending was supposed to be less angsty and without the dark overtones, but here we are. 

The cot was narrow and hard, and the stone wall uncomfortably damp and cold. After having been stripped of his armor, Obi-Wan was left wearing only thin cotton tunic, loose leggings and boots. It was a poor protection against the chill that was slowly but surely seeping into his very bones.

 Obi-Wan shifted on his small cot, trying to find a more comfortable position. It wasn't an easy task, not even for someone who has spent the majority of his life sleeping under the open sky.

But that was the purpose of a cell, was it not? To leave one bereft of comforts as well as freedom.

Dragging his fingers across his face, Obi-Wan pushed those morose thoughts to the back of his mind. It would do him no good to sink into self-pity. He had made his choice, and he had done it knowing what the cost would be. To lament his decision now would be futile, but also a sign of a weak and fickle character.

He had already lost almost everything, he had no intention adding dignity and integrity to the list.

The sound of metal scraping against stone, followed by heavy footsteps made Obi-Wan stiffen involuntarily, his gaze flicking toward the iron bars of his cell.

Obi-Wan tried to remain calm, but it was a doomed battle. His stomach twisted into a tight knot, his fingers flexing where they were resting on his knees.

Have they already reached a decision? It has been barely a day since Obi-Wan had been thrown back into his cell, after refusing to accept guilt or plead for mercy for having disobeyed his orders.

Obi-Wan swallowed the bile that had gathered in the back if his throat, helpless anger flaring inside his chest as he recalled Palpatine's voice, accusing him of treason.

Treason. After fighting and bleeding for the King and his country his entire adult life, that was what he would be remembered for; the act that had earned him the moniker The Traitor General.

As if the real treason would not have been razing an entire town to ground and spilling innocent blood, all in the Prince's name.

Even if Obi-Wan had been capable of going against his morals, he would rather have slit his own throat than tied Anakin's name with the slaughter of the innocents.

Even those who were supporting Dooku.

Not that it mattered to Palpatine and the majority of the Royal Council. Quite the opposite. Obi-Wan has long suspected the Lord Regent's... less than favorable opinion of himself.

Obi-Wan could only imagine Palpatine's satisfaction with Obi-Wan's fall from grace. Now, there would be no one standing between him and the Prince. No one to lessen his malignant influence.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and grit his teeth, his hands balling into fists as impotent fury blazed its path through Obi-Wan's veins.

There was nothing Obi-Wan could do about it now. No way to prove he had deliberately been set up to fail. He had been stripped of his rank and title, his reputation and honor tarnished. His word meant nothing. He had nothing. Only his life.

Soon, maybe not even that.

The steps grew louder as they drew closer, only to halt abruptly.

"General," the familiar voice called, low and urgent, making Obi-Wan's eyes snap open.

"Rex," Obi-Wan said, rising to his feet and walking over to the cell bars. The sight of Rex dressed in the formal uniform of the Captain of the Guard still seemed faintly surreal to Obi-Wan, even if it has been six months since Rex had assumed that position. Obi-Wan frowned, glancing warily at their surroundings. "You should not be here."

"With due respect, General," Rex said, squaring Obi-Wan with a flat look. "That's probably the stupidest thing I've heard you say." He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly. "And I've heard you composing lyrics while drunk."

Obi-Wan felt his mouth draw into a smile. "Ah, yes. That hadn't been my most dignified moment."

"Maybe not," Rex said, growing serious. "But there's not much demand for dignity while you're out there, freezing and covered in mud, waiting for the enemy. Camaraderie, respect... That's what matters. And you showed us both, General. I- We will never forget it."

"I-" Obi-Wan's voice faltered for a moment, his throat burning with a myriad of emotions. He swallowed thickly, composing himself. "You should not call me that anymore. I am no longer your general."

"You will always be my general," Rex said, solemn and without a moment's hesitation. A shadow crossed over his features. "Cody would say the same if he were here."

Obi-Wan looked away as guilt churned in the hollow of his chest. "It hadn't been my intention to drag Cody down with me. He should not have been demoted because of my actions."

"Cody doesn't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself," Rex remarked, pulling out a key from the inside of his jacket. "What you did was right, and the men know it."

Obi-Wan made a step back, his eyes widening in alarm. "Rex, I am not-"

"I'm not here to break you out," Rex cut in, unlocking the door and pulling it open. "I'm here to take you to the Prince. We don't have much time, General, so save the martyr act for some other time."

Obi-Wan blinked, caught between amusement and concern. "What does Anakin have to do with this?" Crossing his hands over his chest, Obi-Wan gave Rex a sharp look. "You were supposed to discourage his reckless behavior, not go along with it."

"Right now, General, you're the one with the problematic attitude," Rex said, frustration giving his voice a sharp edge. He squared Obi-Wan with a flat look, gesturing at the open door of his cell. "Like I said, we don't have much time. So you can cooperate or risk seeing what the Prince would do if I don't bring you to him on time."

Obi-Wan pressed his mouth into a thin line. "I don't think Anakin has been a good influence on you, Captain."

Rex shrugged. "Since you're the one who recommended me for this position, you have no one but yourself to blame, General."

Obi-Wan sighed, but made no further protest. Rex was right. Whatever ridiculous plan Anakin had concocted, Obi-Wan had no choice but go along with it. Or risk pushing Anakin into doing something incredibly foolish.

Striding out of the cell, Obi-Wan gave Rex a pointed look, arching an eyebrow. "I concede, Captain. Now what?"

Rex pulled out a pair of manacles, looking uncomfortable. "I- I'm sorry, General. It's just-"

"I understand, Rex," Obi-Wan cut in, extending his wrists. "You have my permission."

Rex let out a sigh of relief. But he still looked uncomfortable as he closed the manacles around Obi-Wan's wrists.

"Now," Obi-Wan said, grimly determined. "Take me to Anakin."

***

Obi-Wan had half-expected someone to stop them.

But, as they were walking the mostly empty hallways, Rex's hand firmly around Obi-Wan's bicep, no one had spared them more than a curious look.

Despite that, Obi-Wan could not relax; his stomach was tied into knots, while his lungs seemed unable to draw enough air.

It was nothing new. Anakin has always been the only person capable of completely shattering Obi-Wan's equilibrium.

Though, this was the first time he had done it when he wasn't actually physically present.

Obi-Wan's confusion and alarm grew further when, instead of taking the right turn, Rex took him up the narrow stairs that led to the east wing of the palace.

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan demanded in a low voice. "This wing has not been opened since the Queen's death."

"I have my orders," Rex answered curtly, making it clear he wasn't going to elaborate further.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, but remained silent.

"We're here," Rex announced, stopping in front of large mahogany doors. He tapped the doors twice in rapid succession, then took a step back. "The Prince is waiting for you."

"You are not coming inside?"

Rex's mouth curled faintly. "Like I said, I have my orders."

"Orders, of course," Obi-Wan remarked drily. Rex merely shrugged in response.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan pushed open the doors, only to find himself enveloped in a tight embrace as soon as the doors clicked shut behind him.

For one moment - precious and stolen - Obi-Wan relaxed into Anakin's embrace, allowing his eyes to fall shut, the entire world narrowing to just the two of them.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin murmured into Obi-Wan's hair, his arms tightening around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Thank the Gods you're finally here."

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, painfully aware how there was no other place he would rather be in than Anakin's arms. And equally aware that it was the one place where he shouldn't be.

Silently cursing his own weakness, Obi-Wan forced himself to step back, out of Anakin's embrace. It took far more strength of will than Obi-Wan was willing to admit. Even to himself.

Ignoring Anakin's confused, dejected expression, Obi-Wan sketched a low bow, purposely clanging with his manacles. "You left me no choice, Your Highness."

Anakin blinked, confusion quickly morphing into frustration on his face. "Now is not the time for your poor humor, Obi-Wan."

"Believe me, your Highness, I am in no mood for jesting."

Anakin's eyes flashed. "Stop calling me that," he bit out. He let out a frustrated noise, dragging a hand through his already messy curls. "What is wrong with you? Don't you understand how precarious your current position is?" Anakin's voice broke on the last word, his expression turning desperate for a fraction of a moment.

Obi-Wan's resolve weakened as he took in Anakin's appearance: the paleness of his face, the dark circles underneath his eyes and their almost frantic gleam.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed. "Being seen with me now can only harm you. You know that."

Anakin's lips curled over his teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I may not be king yet, but I am not about to cower before the Council like a scared child in my own blasted home, Obi-Wan."

"Is that why we are meeting here and not in your quarters?"

Anakin opened his mouth, only to shut it, his cheeks coloring.

Obi-Wan frowned, unease forming a tight knot in his abdomen. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan said, trying but failing to keep his growing alarm out of his voice. "What are you not telling me?"

Anakin took a deep breath, straightening fully. "The Council has decided on your sentence."

Obi-Wan swallowed, his breath stuttering in his chest. He made himself smile. "And? What have they decided?"

"Exile," Anakin replied, voice barely over a whisper. He looked away, his hands curling into fists. "Some- Some members of the Council were insisting on execution but Palpatine made them reconsider."

"Did he now?" Obi-Wan said, more to himself than Anakin.

Anakin snapped his gaze up, scowling. "I know you dislike the Lord Regent, but he was the only one defending you." Anakin rubbed at his forehead. "Except Yoda."

"So this is goodbye, then?" Obi-Wan asked after a moment, faintly surprised how steady his voice was.

Anakin shook his head vehemently. As if mere thought was too horrible to contemplate. He crossed the space between them in two long strides, gripping Obi-Wan by his upper arms, his eyes gleaming fervently. "No, because you are not going anywhere. I won't allow it."

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath. "Anakin, there is nothing you can do. Even if you were-"

"Yes there is," Anakin cut in, deadly resolve etched onto his features.

Obi-Wan smiled, a soft, sad smile. "You are my Prince and my dearest friend, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "I would have given my life for you a hundred times over, but I won't allow you to tarnish your honor and what little has left of mine on a fool's quest."

Anakin closed his eyes briefly, his face contorting into a pained expression. "That is not your decision to make, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan felt a shiver of dread crawl down his spine. "What do you mean?"

Anakin released him, then turned on his heel, striding over to a nearby table. He stood there, unmoving, for one long moment, his shoulders sketching a rigid line.

"There is one law that goes beyond the Council, an old tradition no one would dare dispute," Anakin said, voice barely over a whisper. A moment later Obi-Wan could hear a faint click of a latch being opened. "The one thing that could save you and keep you here. With me."

Unconsciously, Obi-Wan made a step back. "There is no such law, Anakin. You should-"

Anakin turned around, fixing Obi-Wan with an unwavering gaze.

Obi-Wan broke off abruptly, his eyes widening at the sight of the gold collar in Anakin's right hand.

Obi-Wan knew that collar. Knew what it meant. But he refused to accept the implications.

Not now. Not like this.

"Yes, there is," Anakin said, striding forward. Obi-Wan felt frozen in place, his thoughts shuddering to a stop when he felt Anakin's fingers brush against his neck in a feather light caress. "I have the right to choose a consort. It can be anyone. And I have chosen you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinked up at Anakin, unable to move or form a coherent thought even as he felt the collar close around his neck.

"This is not the way, Anakin," Obi-Wan managed to force through the tight clench of his throat. "Take it off."

"There is no other way," Anakin said, tipping his forehead against Obi-Wan's. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, the soft click of a latch echoing loudly in the silence of the room.