#padawan fic

[bibxrbie]

"Luke Skywalker isn’t like the old Jedi. He saves Vader with his attachments!”

Wrong!

Luke Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi, after his confrontation with the Emperor drags Darth Vader through the destructing Death Star. He’s desperate, knuckles white under the heavy weight of his father’s body, a little boy dragging his dad to safety. He sets Vader down for a moment, to catch his breath or maybe to get a better grip. He goes to grab Vader again, but Vader, uncomfortable and in pain, asks Luke to take off the mask. He wants to see Luke through his eyes instead of the eyes Palpatine built for him. Luke refuses, says that removing the mask is a sure way for Vader to die. Luke doesn’t want Vader dead, he wants Vader alive. Not to hold him accountable for his many evil acts, but for the same reason why Luke Skywalker can’t kill Darth Vader; Vader is his father and Luke loves him.

And yet, after a moment, Luke removes Vader’s mask. He doesn’t want to, he hesitates, but he removes the mask with enough slowness to allow Vader to take it back. In that moment, Luke sets aside his desire for Vader in his life, sets aside his desire to see him live, and sets aside his entire mission, the reason he was even on the Death Star in the place. In his compassion for his father, Luke stays with Vader until he dies. It is this moment where we see him be the best damn Jedi he can be. I’d even argue that this moment is the greatest example of non-attached love we see. Because Luke lets Vader go! He lets his father die, and in some ways, by removing the mask, he too kills Vader, he stays with him until his last moment, gives him the kindness of granting his last wish and finally chooses Vader.

And Luke doesn’t have to do this. If Luke Skywalker’s love for his father was an attachment, he would ignore Vader and continue dragging him to the escape pod, put his desire for a father as his central focus and ignore Vader’s wants and discomfort. Maybe he would even save him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Vader dies.

He builds a Jedi burial for his father and watches it burn the remnants of Vader and Anakin Skywalker away. He mourns Vader, he mourns what they could’ve had as father and son, considers what ifs and maybe-if-I-did-this. Vader/ Anakin is released from his mortal body, from his ‘crude matter’ and Luke lets him go. He says one final goodbye to Anakin. Then, he joins Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the rest of the Rebels and celebrates their victory. He lives in the present and celebrates what he has instead of what he lost.

Luke Skywalker is THE Jedi. Everything about Luke Skywalker serves as the foundational cornerstone of the Jedi, everything about the Jedi as a culture and philosophy is reflected in his character. Luke’s desire for the New Jedi Order isn’t to throw away the values of the old Order, but to vitalise them, breathe life back into dying lungs, and rebuild a path that people set out on their way to destroy. (Yes, his Order is different from the Old, but that’s because it has to be. He doesn’t have the resources or the safety of the Old Order.) The philosophies of the Jedi are difficult and they aren’t for everyone, and like the perfect Jedi that Luke is, he struggles and stumbles and sometimes he even rejects it. But, no matter how far he falls, it is a way of life he chooses again and again and again. It is a way of life that welcomes him back each time

[chyarui]

the idea of winged obi-wan has been living in my head rent free for MONTHS and i finally got around to it, enjoy guys! (and let me know if you wanna see more 👀)

The jedi having feathers growing in their hair was too funny a concept to not include- they just have perpetual bed head at a young age when their feathers are still growing (the REAL REASON why Mace shaved his head)

[nolouvreart]

Sweet… sweet padawan of mine

[bon-sides-sw]

Question: whose Cal Kestis other parent?

On another day I would have told you that can be anyone, even a random stranger he met on a bar- BUT THEN, @babygirlbridger and @krispyswips infected me with the brainworms via discord chats and this Fic [To Out Halcyon Days] (E) that I'm so obsessed with!!

So yes, is Quinlan.

But Obi and his stewjoni biology are so powerful that his womb just photocopies himself.

[pachkko]

(Read left to right)

-At least he wasn't going insane. He was just being emotionally manipulated by a baby. That was… not better, now that he thought about it-

You guys should read Porg Eyes by @lamaenthel cause it melted my heart with how cute it was! There's really not enough young distater lineage interacting with just ashoka and obi so this was so great to read.

Credit for dialog from Porg Eyes on Ao3

[obikinwhore]

OG tweet

Quigon took Obiwan as his padawan then passed him off when he found Anakin. Obiwan was luckily grabbed by Dooku who Quigon put in a good word for. But that rejection stings and Obiwan sees Anakin as his rival yet Anakin has no clue and just is infatuated with Obiwan. Which Obiwan sort of takes as like rubbing it in somehow??

Obiwan ends up working so hard to keep up with Anakin which is impossible cause he’s the chosen one but manages to be 2nd best padawan after him in dueling. Anakin just takes any instance to be near Obiwan and always follows him and bullies his way into every moment of Obiwan’s life. Obiwan hates life cause he can’t beat this annoying, clingy, regrettably hot bastard

[ireadwithmyears]

address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates. 

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

*

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

*

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

*

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

*

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him. 

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

*

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 

He fixes you with a look.  

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

*

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

*

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless. 

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 

*

It sounds simple enough. 

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

*

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

*

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 

Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

*

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

*

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

[morgines]

I'm probably living in the neolithic since I can only make traditional art but I made fanart of some of my favorite scenes of Spy Wars by @clawedandcute !!!

[skywlker-sluvtt]

69 on the smut dialogue and D5 on the smut prompt list with anakin? :)

Deflowered

anakin x fem!reader

A/N: Ugh this turned into my padawan fic and I absolutely loved the prompt so I couldn't help myself turning it into an entire fic. ily nonnie <3

Master Ani's been dreaming of his padawan for months when he feels her distraction again he finally takes what's his (Anakin is about 10 years older in this <3)

Warnings: master x padawan (reader is 18+), virginity taking, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering, innocence kink, unprotected p n v, a little bit of blood, sprinkle of dacryphilia, lmk if i missed any

Word Count: 1.8k

Main Masterlist 500 Celebration

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Prompt: 69 one person stopping a kiss to ask “do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss + D5 sloppy, dirty sex

“Your lack of concentration is unlike you” Anakin commented placing a hand on your shoulder. Goosebumps rose across your skin at his warm touch. “Sorry Master,” You said putting your robe back on and looking up at him. “Is something on your mind?” He questioned not bothering to put any of his robes back on, still in a thin shirt from training. “Not really I’m quite tired” You replied trying to take your eyes off his exposed chest. “You can’t lie to me that easy” He smirked. “I can feel it y’know,” He said quietly. “Feel what?” You blushed. What was it that he felt? If he knew how you felt about him you were sure you’d be expelled. It was inappropriate and Anakin was much too old for you.

“Look at me,” He said quietly lifting your chin. Recently, he’d been more touchy, brushing a hand over yours or placing a hand on your back more frequently. All those touches made it so much worse. Heat bloomed in your stomach as you looked back at him. His eyes studying you carefully, a smirk plastered on his stupid perfect face. “Tell me what you feel, padawan” You stayed silent as your throat went dry. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was a test.

“I…” You squeaked nerves preventing you from speaking. “I love how innocent you are, can’t even speak the things your pretty head imagines” Anakin continued lifting his thumb to your bottom lip and pulling it down suggestively. “Master” You whispered swallowing thickly. “You sound so sweet when you call me that” He watched your eyes. The way they widened with nerves, he could feel your arousal through the heat of your skin. “I want to know, what you’re thinking about,” Anakin said more firmly this time. “I can’t,” You told him.

His smile grew and he stepped even closer. “Why not?” He questioned leaning even closer. The leather of his glove rested against your jawline, your mind wandered wondering what the durasteel would feel like on your cheek. “Such an innocent thing, let me say it for you,” He said lowly leaning down to capture your lips with his own. Your heart leapt and the familiar butterflies swarmed your stomach as your master kissed you. In response, you leaned in closer placing your hand against his chest.

Anakin pulled back unexpectedly. Touching his flesh you could now feel the lust radiating from him. His dark gaze met yours and he asked in a whisper “Do you want this?” In response, you stood on your tiptoes wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Your heart was still pounding with nerves. He immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth grabbing a handful of your ass through thick robes. You whimpered quietly flinching at his touch. He deepened the kiss making sure you were pressed right up against him so he could feel as much as possible.

“So innocent” He whispered breaking the kiss. His lips moved along your jawline down to your neck. His fingers moved downward desperate to undress you. “Tell me padawan, have you ever been touched?” He asked. “N-No Master” “Good girl, then I’ll be the first” He groaned into your neck. “I want you in my quarters, now” He ordered. You nodded eagerly taking a hesitant step away from him before he guided you to his quarters. Anakin let out a quiet sigh of relief that it was so late, nobody would hear what he was about to do to you.

When the door was locked his hands were on you in an instant unwrapping you like a gift. You slowly helped him, becoming more nervous by the second. “I’ve dreamed of this pretty body for months,” He told you. Left in only your undergarments he pulled the breast band from your chest licking his lips hungrily. His gaze made your nipples harden as you began to hide yourself. “No hiding,” He said grabbing your arms and pulling them away. “Master I-” “Shh baby,” He cooed pushing you against his bed dropping his mouth to your breasts.

You whined as he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin. Anakin left bruises across your chest soothing them with his wet tongue. Lifting your hips you started to grind your pussy into his thigh desperate for the slightest amount of friction. His mouth left your tits as he trailed dirty kisses down your stomach, he ran his fingers down your inner thighs before pulling your panties down. “Such pretty holes, I can’t wait to use them” He smirked spreading you open with his fingers. Lifting his free hand to your mouth. “Open,” He told you sneaking his fingers past your lips. “Now suck” You did as he asked sucking on his fingers.

Anakin’s smirk grew as he tested your gag reflex working them down your throat further until you gagged on them. “We’ll have to work on that” He hummed pulling his saliva-soaked fingers from your mouth. “Master, what are you doing?” You asked closing your legs. “I’m getting you ready for me angel, I want these legs open. Show me that pretty cunt” He instructed watching lustfully as you did as he asked. Anakin couldn’t get enough of the blush on your cheeks. “You look so gorgeous like this,” He said quietly teasing your entrance.

“Have you ever fingered yourself padawan?” He asked slipping only one finger into your tightness. “No Master” You replied clenching around his finger. His eyes burned into yours before he smiled. “You just grind your pretty clit on your pillows, don’t you? Thinking about me? Wishing it was my thigh you were humping?” He teased. Noticing how your cheeks burned scarlet red and you looked away Anakin smirked. He slipped a second finger inside of you pushing in gently. A subtle moan escaped your lips and he hummed.

Anakin leaned down between your legs removing the glove from his hand. You felt the sting of cool metal around your thigh before his tongue pressed against your slit. “Master!” You whined shivering from the combining sensations. “Relax, love. I want you to enjoy this” He whispered quietly, languidly licking through your folds with intention. You could feel him deeply the way his force signature flowed with yours so perfectly clouding your senses with desire. Each flick of his tongue drew a desperate moans from your lips. His fingers delicately stretched you out quickening the pace before the heat in your stomach burned.

“Master I’m-I’m going too-” You sighed. “Cum for me my padawan, you have my permission” He smirked as you rolled your hips into him faster. His digits curled deeper into your walls stroking the perfect spot as you lifted your hips higher with a needy moan. Your body convulsed with pleasure around Anakin's fingers as he watched you with a smirk pulling away from your pussy, depriving you of any more pleasure. “Master” You whispered looking back up at him. “I know my darling. This will feel good for you too” He taunted revealing his cock to you.

His hard length sprung free from his boxers and he let it rest on your stomach. Admiring how his tip sat on your belly button. “Ready to feel me in your stomach angel?” He whispered pressing a disgustingly wet kiss to your lips. “Please” You nodded. “I want you to touch it first” He smirked taking your hand in his. Anakin spat into your hand making your eyes go wide. “Don’t get shy on me now” He whispered guiding your hand lower. Glancing down you wrapped your hand around the thickness wondering how that would ever fit inside of you. Your pinky barely touched your thumb as you held his cock.

“Good girl,” He whispered taking your wrist and moving your hand up and down his shaft like it was a fleshlight. “Squeeze tighter,” He said his hand clutching your wrist tight. You did as your master asked watching intently as he helped you jerk him off. “Ah-that’s my girl. Now you’re going to put me inside of you” Anakin smirked. “Master…I don’t know how” You told him. “I’ll show you” He growled leaning back until his tip was pressed to your clit making you squirm. Still holding him tight his dick slipped lower till he was pushing inside of you. “You take me so well baby” He rasped. You whined at the stretch. He filled you only halfway before tears pricked at your eyes.

“I’m only halfway baby” He grinned “Feeling full already?” You nodded squeezing your eyes shut. The pain was almost pleasurable, the feeling of his fat cock made your walls clench begging him to continue. He groaned as you squeezed and pushed further in. “That’s my good girl, you like it don’t you? The pain feels good” He dropped his head to your shoulder entering you fully with a quick thrust, his hips meeting yours. “Master” You squeaked locking your ankles around his waist. “You feel so fuckin’ tight,” He said before kissing you passionately.

Anakin thrusts in and out of you slowly. He watched how tight your cunt squeezed him as he moved. Your pussy clung to him desperately just as you did with your nails, digging them into his shoulder blades. You let out a choked sob and he smirked. “No tears, take it all padawan. You can do it sweet girl” He smirked before his tongue met your cheeks, tasting your tears. “Too much!” You cried out as his fingers met your swollen clit. “No, no, no. You wanted this sweet girl now. take. it” He growled building up his pace.

Hips snapping against yours it finally felt good as his cock reached all the right places, the relentless sting leaving you with only pleasure. As you moaned out Anakin’s mouth met yours inhaling every sound that left your mouth. “My innocent padawan-fuck-bleeding all over my cock” He smirked admiring the blood between both of you. “Master! P-Please, wanna cum on your cock” You pleaded loudly. “You cum on my cock when your master tells you to” He replied digging his teeth into your shoulder surely leaving a mark.

“Mine…all fucking mine. This pussy is mine. Say it!” He demanded tugging on your hair. “Yours all yours master! My pussy is yours” You yelped arching your back into him. He massaged your clit in tighter circles watching your face contort with pleasure on the edge of cumming. “Patience” He grunted with a few more sloppy thrusts. “Master” You gasped. “Yes?” “I want it inside” You whimpered. “Little cumslut” He groans biting your lip and pulling away before whispering. “Cum” The coil in your stomach snapped and you saw stars shaking around his thick cock. Your orgasm was electric as you felt his hot seed spill into you The thought of him impregnating you had your head spinning.

Anakin rutted into you lazily working you through your orgasm watching your eyes roll back mumbling praise to you. As the high wore off you were able to make out your master's cocky smirk as he looked down at you. You looked away nervously before he gripped your chin capturing your lips in a heated kiss desperate to taste you again. “Don’t act innocent now. You’re full of my cum angel, now you’re mine. Forever”

[jedi-starbird]

Disaster Lineage Timeline and Ages

Here is a Disaster Lineage timeline that actually makes sense and includes all members, plus their relative ages for each event. For all my fic writers who also get a headache trying to figure them out.

I tried my best to keep the relative ages the same as what Canon or Legends gives us with 2 exceptions (Xanatos and Komari). So while the dates may not be canon accurate for becoming a padawan or Knighting, their ages are. The grey cells mark how old the person was when they died.

I've given permission for this to be on the SW Reference wiki. Here!

Enjoy and hope you have fun with it! Detailed explanations for birth-date changes below the cut!

Buckle in Folks.

OK, so Dooku must be aged up minimum 5 years in order to train Rael before Qui-Gon and so Qui-Gon can train Feemor and Xanatos before Obi-Wan. Rael has to be at least 10 years older than Qui-Gon so that he can be knighted when Qui-Gon is padawan age. Canon has Dooku take on Rael at 22 so I kept that cause it's funny and that means Dooku has to be older than his canon birthday of 102BBY to fit both in.

Neither of Qui-Gon's birthdays work if you want to fit the other lineage members in. This is not at all annoying. 80BBY(canon) has him too young to train both Feemor and Xanatos before Obi-Wan and 92BBY(legends) has him being 17 when he becomes a padawan if Dooku trains Rael before him. 86BBY is my magical average that just barely works. I use fanon that Qui-Gon takes over Feemor's training cause it's the only way to fit him in without making Qui-Gon too old, thus domino-affecting Rael and Dooku.

Does this mean the 4 of them are all knighted between ages 21-23? Yes? Is that insane? Yes, but alas it's the only way I could make the timeline work.

Komari is the only birth-date I've moved for non-math reasons, her actual birthday is 62BBY, same as Nim, but that makes her 18 at Galidraan and I felt that was too young personally. (She kills 20 Mandos singlehandedly there. yeah. wtf)

Xanatos's birthday and death date are the same but I made him older when he fell because Legends has him as 16 and that really feels too young, especially since he was considered for the goddamn Knight Trials when he fell and we know Anakin was considered exceptionally young when he was knighted at 19. It makes for some nice parallels between them. Plus all the shit Xanatos gets up to after he runs off, he should be a little older to pull it off.

[tennessoui]

what about some sort of buddy cop, same age, enemies to lovers au where obi-wan is a jedi and anakin is a coruscanti detective and they literally hate each other and have no respect for the other (obi-wan thinks anakin is a waste of the coruscant budget and a jedi wannabe; anakin thinks obi-wan is a pretentious space monk asshole)

(anakin has personally arrested obi-wan for speeding three times, drinking in public spaces 4 times -- the public space was a bar btw -- and indecent public exposure once. that last one was, tbh, fair cause obi-wan had his dick out in an alley way lol)

(obi-wan has literally stalked this asshole coruscanti cop off planet before and arrested him in his capacity as Jedi Knight for not using his turn signal when changing hyperspace lanes (once), for podracing betting (3 times), and for possession of a galacticly banned substance (twice))

it's not that they're obsessed with each other, it's just that something keeps forcing them together in the wildest, most unpredictable situations, and it's annoying as hell because they're completely fed up with each other

then the senate moves to have a new task force stood up to solve a series of Force-related crimes in the Coruscanti underworld. the task force would include a representative from the Jedi Temple and one from the Coruscanti guards, obviously. and really, obi-wan and anakin are the perfect choices! they're both highly intelligent, dedicated, trustworthy, and incorruptible.

if only they'd stop trying to push each other off the 51st story of coruscant and actually put their heads together to solve the crime

[padawansuggest]

Obi-Wan in his natural habitat in the temple sleeps in a loft bed (it was supposed to be storage he said cat instinct and turned it into a loft bed they’re shockingly common with Jedi tbh tho) and under 17 fluffy blankets with a pregnancy pillow (he’s not pregnant he just can’t sleep off his stomach if he don’t got one and sometimes autism requires squishing to keep it all down) and three more fluffy blankets on top of him. He has an optional Padawan or pet (not really a pet, just whomever followed him how from the gardens today) in bed with him also. And he’s got a projector on the wall and has a night stand with water and gaming devices so he can survive up there forever.

The clones, who have learned to sleep with full kute coverings and usually without blankets or pillows cause they just pass out on each other, most of whom identified with their Jedi for having similar sleeping types if they weren’t human, realize they are quite horrified by his Stewjoni nesting instinct. And he’s offended and refuses to sleep with any of them till they apologize to his favorite stuffed animal for insulting his HOUSE. Fuck you bitches he and Master Sparkle Bantha deserve better.

Cody is groveling while Alpha is still trying to negotiate a less intense number of blankets and Anakin is just shaking his head like ‘it’s not worth it Bro’ and Alpha is like ‘shut up ur an omega too you brat’ and that’s the last straw, you called them omegas now Cody is asking what an omega is and Alpha is trying to figure out how to keep his AO3 account hidden from his vod’e and nvm he’ll sleep in the barracks forever-

Obi-Wan holds this info over his head like a guillotine and convinced him to get in the damn nest right this second and cuddle him better.

If you don’t sleep with at least two comforters and a queen sized fuzzy blanket then I don’t trust you. Yes I refuse to trust my sister and wife okay. Everything in the world has a downside and that’s theirs. My bed is half dragon hoard of yarn and squishmallows. I’m not changing for anyone.

Anakin’s bed is 90% pillow and squishmallow and 10% blanket. Padme uses a thin cotton blanket and lets him burrito wrap himself and uses him like a body pillow while he’s captive in the blankies.

[chyarui]

What happens when padawan quin miraculously comes back from a shadow mission gone wrong…

More quinobi, now with a side of angst!!

And look, I adore quinlans locks, but sometimes sacrifices must be made for the plot (I will not ask for forgiveness)

although most of his beautiful hair clasps are gone, at least obi was able to hold onto one for him (what he thought was likely the last piece of quin he had left) 💔

[nolouvreart]

Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go

[bibxrbie]

It is so difficult loving Luke Skywalker and being Jedi positive.

[anakinskywalker97]

Trash Compactor

Anakin Skywalker X Padawan Reader

Summary: Your Anakin's Padawan and while stuck in a trash shoot the two of you get a little too close. Reader is legal but extremely innocent and inexperienced having been brought up in the Jedi Temple. Thinking about a super smutty part two.

Warnings: Fem Orgasm - not super detailed this is more fluff than smut.

Part Two - Smut

You knew he was having a rough time, through your force bond you had accidentally looked  into his thoughts  during force training. He was distracted so accidentally pushing into his mind was easy for you. 

You were lying in bed staring up at the ceiling of your compartment. Your whole body felt raw and painful. Anakin had been pushing you harder and harder in training. 

That’s where you found out his secret. 

He and Padmae had been in love. That piece of information alone was enough to keep you up for the past three nights, but they had also broken up because she had cheated. You kept trying to work out the timeline and the age difference but you couldn't wrap your mind around it. Or figure out how no one noticed. The tabloids followed her every move, not to mention Obi-Wan was very protective of Anakin. 

Anakin wasn’t happy that you had heard things in his mind, but that had also been the point of the task. He just didn’t think there was any way you would pick it up that fast. Normally force bonds like the one between the two of you took years to establish. 

Since then it’s been all sparing. An all forms free for all against him for hours. You and him had a tense relationship at the best of times. Anakin and you both felt the world and echother deeply. It lead to a lot of shared frustration. 

There was a whirring sound followed by a bunch of beeping. R2 had shot past your room at top speed by the sound of it. Your body jolted up thinking that maybe the ship was under attack. You grabbed your robe and ran out into the hallway. 

You chased after the little droid till you heard Anakin in your mind. 

What are you two doing?

I don’t know I thought we were under attack. 

Why would we be under attack? 

Why else would R2 be freaking out? 

I told you to go to bed. 

Well, I thought we were in danger 

The door in front of the droid opened and he moved into the darkness. Before you heard Anakins mental arguing you felt him crash into the back of you sending you both falling into the darkness. 

You used your training to cushion your blow. Not as well as Anakin, but still you were unscathed in the dim light of the… trash compactor. 

“R2 I swear I’m going to kill you for this,” Anakin grumbled at his beloved droid, who let out a cooing sound in response. “Fuck” He ran his hands through his hair giving you a chance to admire his untied robe and black boxers. It smelled and it was gross, but you would do it a hundred more times if it ment you could see him in only his boxers. 

You looked away quickly and began to try and find an escape latch. 

That’s when you felt the walls begin to move. 

“Master.” Your voice was shaky and you felt his large hand grip your shoulder. 

“Don’t freak out.” He said calmly, you felt his peace wash over you. A lot of the time he was wrapped up in anger, but whenever you got scared he would find enough calm inside him for the two of you. 

“There!” You pointed at a maintenance ladder with an emergency release lever. The only problem was it completely out of reach. 

“Here just climb up on me.” The walls were now dangerously close and you couldnt think of a better option. You nervously let him pick you up. He pressed your back against one of the walls and moved your leg over his shoulder. Your chest became tight and you fought for every shallow breath. His hands were all over you. Grabbing your ass and on your thigh. The walls got stuck against R2 and stopped. You were stuck up against him. 

“Use the force.” He said patiently. You took a breath and tried to stop feeling his hands on you. His fingers digging into your flesh, his face practically between your legs. You leveraged yourself up a bit and got your foot on his shoulder. 

______________

Anakin had been in a lot of tense situations. Why his exceptionally capable Padawan was suddenly force resistant when stuck in the bottom of a trash compactor was beyond him. She should be able to lift herself up. But he was doing all of the heavy lifting while her whole body shook with tremors. 

Sure it was gross, and it was a bit cold but not enough to make her shake this badly. He tried to reach out to her mind to calm her down further but it was shut down completely. 

When her foot slipped on the silky fabric of his robe it all made sense. His cheek was pressed into her hot center, and he could tell just how wet you were by the way your pj shorts slid along your hot flesh. 

You let out a hiss and he could feel you start to freak out. 

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” He tried to still his own emotions but found it incredibly difficult. “I’m not going to let you fall. I’ve got you.” His voice was more certain and he heard you take a breath. 

You tried to right yourself and push back up on one leg. His hands grabbed the flesh of your ass to steady you and he wanted to laugh at how much it impacted you. Touch-starved Padawan. 

Well, technically he was still a touch-starved Padawan too. He cleared his mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. You got yourself into a standing position on his shoulders. He grabbed your calves feeling like it probably wasn't helping. 

He looked up and saw your body elongated to it’s limits reaching for the bottom wrung of the ladder. 

“Use the force to steady you and jump.” 

“I can’t jump from on top of you!” You hissed. Your weight on his shoulders like this wasn't pleasant but it certainly wasn't unmanageable. 

“You’re light enough.” He said easily. “Clear your mind.” He felt it was a bit mean, he could feel the stress his presence was putting on your body. Your legs were barely able to keep you upright let alone balanced on his shoulders. 

He gave you a moment then he felt you bend your legs slightly. You pushed off and didn't come crashing down. Looking up you were dangling on the bottom wrung of the ladder.  He felt you pull yourself up and then heard the bottom bar break. 

He caught you, hating himself for liking the way you clung to him so tightly. 

He had you balanced on his hips with your weight against the wall. With most of the space gone, he was fine keeping you like that till he figured out a plan. You on the other hand were as tense as possible with your legs still shaking. He decided that was enough fun for one night and was about to put you down when you shifted your hips against his. The friction was electric and the sound that got caught in the back of your throat was officially pushing things too far. 

He should put you down or make you sit on top of R2. 

He made a vow to protect you and that meant from everything, even himself. 

With your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your face pressed to his neck, you shifted again and he was questioning if it would be so bad just to let you continue. 

You weren't a child, only a few years younger than him. An adult. His hands gripped your ass a little tighter and he loved the way your body shuddered for him. 

I should put you down

Or? 

He pressed his hips against yours and rubbed his length against your soft flesh. The noise you made was all he needed. He would do anything to hear that sound. Feel the way your body embraced him. 

Your hips were uncoordinated and bucked against him, he found it endearing. There where clothes, not much, between you and yet Anakin had never felt so naked. Your mind was completley open to him, your pleasure running into the force bond around them like warm bath water. 

He controlled the pace and felt your body get more and more strung out. Your hand curled into the hair on the back of his head. He moaned and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your body clamped shut around him, your legs like a vice. He held you there his hard cock pressing against your very wet core. He wanted nothing more than to rip off your shorts, press himself deep - 

“Master.” Your voice was just above a whisper. “I don’t think that was a Jedi thing.” 

He pulled his face away to look at you. Your eyes were bright and chest was heaving. 

“You mean in 25 years, you never -” Ankin shrugged. 

“Felt that?” You asked confused. 

“Yeah.” He said already knowing the answer. No wonder you were so uptight. You shook your head and he moaned again. 

__________________________________________________

“If what I think is happening down there is happening. It better not be.” Obi-Wan’s voice called out as the doors to the compactor were pried open. You pulled Anakin’s hair again as you jumped in surprise then started to panic at his words. 

Calm down 

I can’t 

Yes you can, just follow my lead 

He tried to put you on the ground but your legs were like shaking jello. Your whole body was an uncoordinated mess. The fuck did he do to you. And why did you want him to do it again so badly?

He picked you back up the usual way he carried you when injured. You kept your face tucked against him wishing you could melt away into the floor. 

Obi-Wan hit the emergency button and the walls began to move apart and eventually, the floor rose up to the hallway. Anakin moved out into the light and you tried to keep yourself together. 

“Two Padawans against a trash compactor.” He looked angry with Anakin. “The war is hopeless” 

“R2 Ran into it, like there was something down there or - maybe he was running from something?” You tried to sound competent, hoping to take the attention off of your master. 

“I have no idea what that droid -” Anakin caught his eye and he sighed. Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan went off about the little droid. “The ship has been scanned. No one on board to scare him.” Obi-wan answered. 

“Well, if that’s the case I’ll look at him after I get you to the med bay.” He turned his attention back to Obi-Wan “Twisted ankle.” 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a strange look and then he was out of view as Anakin turned and started to carry you down the hall. 

“I can still walk you know.” You said in your usual cool tone. 

“Right, so we can stay up all night limping to the med bay. Excellent suggestion, Padawan.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

_________________________

Obi-Wan stood in the hallway watching his very flushed and awkward Padawans move down the hall. The force bond around them was unlike one he had ever seen before and now it was even more fierce. Their flushed faces and the fact that Anakin was walking in the opposite direction of the med bay made him feel obliged to chase after them to talk to them before they got themselves into real trouble. 

He felt a strange feeling on his shoulder, he turned to see Qui-Gon’s spirit next to him. 

“The force put them together. He needs her more than you understand. It will go above the Order.” 

Obi-Wan only nodded. 

“Yes, Master.” 

Qui-Gon laughed then faded out. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair wondering how his life got this complicated. 

_______________________

Anakin carried you to his room, taking you directly into the bathroom. He placed you in the tub and grabbed the edges of your robe. He slowly pulled it from your shoulders. He wanted to undress you and wash you down, but your wide eyes made him hesitate. How you were so impossibly pure and innocent blew his mind. 

You want me to go? 

You shook your head and he moved to get the rest of your clothes off. Every brush of his fingers made your breath catch. He knew what the responsible thing to do was. Even if it felt like it would kill him. He got undressed and got you both cleaned up. 

He watched you observe his naked form, and it felt nice to be admired. Scared from missions and this stupid war, none of it seemed to bother you. You looked at him with desire, but he could feel that steady bond between the two of you that made it so much more. He never felt this way with Padmae. He was a secret, something she was often ashamed of. Somewhere deep down inside he felt she only really enjoyed their time together because it was forbidden. 

Thinking of her made his mood shift, something he only noticed when he looked at you. Something flared in your eyes and you crossed your arms over your chest. He hated how every one of his emotions was available to you and how every time you internalized them as a reflection of yourself. 

You looked crumpled. He knew how that felt, especially when under the gaze of a lover.

He shut the shower off and grabbed a clean towel. He wrapped you up in it and picked you up. He threw you onto the bed and felt things between you lighten considerably as you let out a surprised laugh. He grabbed you a cotton sleep shirt from his closet and threw it at you. He put on a clean pair of boxers and followed you onto the bed. 

So I’m staying the night then? 

I’d like you to

The words were difficult. There was lust and attraction but something deeper inside Anakin. You were vulnerable, to vulnerable to be left in your room alone for the night. He wanted all of you, but the good in him just wanted to hold you. He tucked you into his side and felt both of you settle into a deep sense of comfort. 

So is that what sex is like? 

Anakin laughed and you smacked him playfully. He didn't particularly want to have this conversation, he wanted to sleep.

Have you really never had an orgasm? 

No? 

Why? 

I thought you had to you know - You shrugged your shoulders. 

I guess it’s not really taught as we are supposed to be free of attachment and all 

Did you love her? - Anakin didnt want to answer. It was too much, too personal. But then again there was no one else to tell, all his secrets were yours at the end of the day anyway. 

Yes, but not for a long time. 

I’m sorry - He could feel your love surround him, he felt unworthy of it. 

We should probably figure out whatever this is 

Maybe it’s just what’s meant to be - Anakin could feel your meaning. Everything about them was abnormal, how they came to be paired, how they could fight side by side, how they were interconnected to such a high degree. He knew it scared the counsel, but if it came down to you or them he knew who he would pick. 

I am your master though, it’s a position of trust and power. I - 

I’m glad you have that power and I trust you - you yawned and tucked yourself against him. You make me feel safe  

The urge to pin you down was overwhelming. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted you in this moment. He worked hard to keep you safe. He trained you hard, he took every opportunity to explain things to you. He had good intentions for this partnership, he wanted you to survive this war, and thrive as a Jedi. Feeling you in his arms now, all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. 

He kissed the top of your head. Fully relaxing into the feeling of being in another's company.