#rip in peace obi

[tennessoui]

in the new wip its said that Obi-Wan talked to Anakin first about getting a new padawan & anakin... seems? like he encouraged it? I feel like Obi-Wan went into this thinking it would be like Ahsoka (where he is primary but Anakin is a secondary mentor) only everyone is on the same page this time... and then Anakin just. utterly refuses to engage with the poor kid. rip Obi-Wan's sanity & peace of mind

how i imagine obi-wan and anakin's conversation about obi-wan getting a second padawan goes:

The Conversation (aka weird post-sex pillowtalk, Anakin's Version):

obi-wan, very beautiful while sweaty, heart still beating rapidly: you know, there are many padawans who lost their masters during the war who will need someone to finish their training. since they lost their masters during the war and all. which is very tragic, to have a master for a moment and then lose them suddenly, at such a young age, don't you think? they'll need a large, perhaps nontraditional support network to overcome the loss of their master at this young age.

anakin, with great conviction while clinging all the tighter to his master, imagining what would've happened to the galaxy if he lost his master during the war: wow that's awful. yeah, i guess some of the old jedi masters with nothing better to do can take on the padawans who lost their masters now that the war is over. you should get someone like vos to do this while we go fuck off into the galaxy on missions that are just thin excuses to fuck each other

obi-wan, stroking anakin's hair to comfort him: so you agree?

anakin, very distracted by the hair stroking, would agree to anything: yeah. for sure.

obi-wan: great i will talk with the council in the morning about taking on a new padawan

anakin: wait. what????? master? master replace??? master replace anakin?? anakin is replaecc? by ? master?? FINE. fiNE. OK. >:(

and

The Conversation (aka post-distraction sex pillowtalk, Obi-Wan's Version):

obi-wan, very nervous with his heart beating fast and sort of sweaty because of the nerves: you know, many padawans lost their masters during the war and will need another master to finish their training. as we are both people who lost qui-gon jinn, our shared master (of a few days), suddenly and with a long, painful adjustment period, these padawans remind me specifically of you. and me, but mostly you. i think i would like to take one of these padawans and finish their training as their second-master. i envision this as something i would do with you, though i'd be their actual master. as an integral part of my life, you'd be welcome to offer any insight into this new padawan's training. what are your thoughts?

anakin, with great compassion: wow, that's awful, yeah! the older jedi masters, such as yourself, should take over the training of these poor traumatized padawans. what a good way to spend your days now that the war is over. you can take them on missions with us and we can create a conducive environment for healing and growth together.

obi-wan: so you agree that i should take on another padawan?

anakin: yeah, of course!

obi-wan: great! i'll talk to the council tomorrow about taking on another padawan.

anakin: :) ok

and

The Conversation (Objectively):

obi-wan: the council informed me that there are many padawans who have lost their masters in the war and will need another master to finish their training. what are your thoughts on the matter?

anakin: wow that's awful.

obi-wan: indeed, i took a look and my schedule would allow for this adjustment. are you opposed to the idea?

anakin, no idea what the idea is: no, yeah. sounds good.

obi-wan, not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth: excellent. i'll confirm with the council tomorrow that i am ready to take on another padawan.

anakin: :) oh. ok. :)

[bitchface24-7]

HELLO POOKIE WOOKIE SMOOKIE 💕💕

I love your Viktor x reader fics so much, like genuinely you write him so in character it has me giggling and kicking my feet. This is like a weirdly obscure req but it’s been clawing away at my brain

I saw one fanart of an arcane x starwars AU and I LOST MY FUCKING MIND. Hear me out, evil sith Viktor being manipulated by Silco is a plotline I didn’t know I needed in my life…

I’m so open to hear any of your thoughts or takes on him, just general headcannons or a full fic if you so desire. But I have an idea for Viktor x Jedi! Reader OR assassin! Reader

It could either be that reader is a hired gun for the sith that he specifically employed to be a rat for the rebellion. (What if their double crossing him behind his back and feeding him false information that soils his plans??? Or plotting a mutiny???? AUGH)

Also another idea is friends(lovers?) to enemies to lovers, maybe they knew eachother when they where foundlings and when Viktor went to the dark side they separated, do what you will with that plotline.

Either way I think having a very smart/clever morally grey reader would be such a delicious dynamic.

Sorry I wrote you a whole novel, anyways I love your writing peace out girly 🤞🤞🤞

YOUR FALLEN ANGEL - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you and Viktor have been as thick as thieves for as long as you can remember, metaphorically and literally. After being saved from the slave trade on Tatooine from two Jedi masters who felt incredible amounts of midichlorians in both of your blood. They train you in the ways of the force. But Viktor has always been passionate, and that became his downfall.

warnings: general descriptions of violence, the darker side of the Jedi’s mentioned, manipulation, desperation, morally grey reader, I'm low-key ripping off episodes I-III in this, Grammarly as my beta ADDITION: tried my best at GN smut, y'all are virgins so… it’s vanilla, oral (m and reader receiving), talks of fantasies, unsafe sex, creampie

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I love Star Wars. I've loved this franchise ever since I was little, the last of the series (EP VII-IX) wasn't the best. They had good ideas but executed them poorly imo. Hopefully y'all like my little twist to it. Essentially I've stolen bits and pieces of Anakin x Padme for this to work.

Going from slaves to padawans was a massive shift in your life. You never thought you'd end up here, free.

Well, as free as can be as a Jedi in training. You remember reciting the code as a young child,

“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.”

You can understand the code— to a certain extent. Humans are not meant to be emotionless, it's physically impossible. Unlike our droid friends, we are unable to turn off our emotions. They’re with us from the day we’re born, and they’ll be with us till the day we die.

Viktor has always pushed the boundaries. His master, Obi-Wan Kenobi tries his best to negate him; very rarely does he succeed. Your own master, Mace Windu isn’t the biggest fan of your oldest and closest friend. You ignore him. Same with the other members of the Jedi Order.

Too passionate is what everyone says. Every so often Master Yoda will take you off to the side and regale the Sith Code like a mantra in his odd speaking habits. As if he’s trying to convince you— warn you about something that’ll never happen.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

Both creeds have their upsides and downsides. Their truths and incomprehensible impossibilities. But as the days go on, as you mature from Padawan to full fledge Jedi, you see a shift in Viktor.

It's so small it's barely even noticeable, but you know him better than you know yourself. And he's started changing ever since that slimy councillor has been around him.

Councillor Silco.

You're not a fan of any of the councillors, but Councillor Silco is the worst of the bunch. Full of lies and deceit. You can taste it whenever he gets too close. His predecessor Councillor Palpatine is even more horrendous.

You're not sure as to why Viktor can't.

It isn't until they've sunk their claws fully into Viktor do you see the truth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're not sure what happened. One second your Master is fighting Councillor Silco, the next Viktor has taken you down, a nasty slash on your waist, your Master is dead, and Viktor is helping the man who killed him.

A crack forms in your heart at the betrayal. You want to scream, cry, and sob inconsolably at the pain you're feeling. But there's not just pain there, there is also anger.

Hatred.

You look up at the duo and grit your teeth, your jaw painfully clenched. That's when Councillor Silco desperately reaches for his neck as he sputters.

He's choking on nothing, and you're the cause of it.

After a moment, he's let go. You feel a bit of horrified justification at your actions. He’s killed your Master, manipulated your friend, and taken what you hold most dear.

You don't feel sorry.

And that’s what scares you.

Viktor looks shocked, his eyes wide as he stares at you. Councillor Silco is trying to catch his breath, but he looks immensely satisfied.

“Looks like there is still hope for you yet.”

And with that, the two men leave; and one of them takes your heart with him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You rush to Obi-Wan and Yoda to tell them what has transpired. The death of Mace, the betrayal and secret mole in Councillor Silco, and the manipulation Viktor has been put under.

The two men look warily at one another at the last point. Your frustration boils over at their secrecy.

“What?!” You question. Your tone is sharp, angry. The two Master’s look to you in shock. You've never raised your voice, not since you became a student here at the temple. Yet here you are, your emotions guiding your actions.

The way of the Sith.

Yoda hums and Obi-Wan placates you, “My dear, you must control yourself. We’ve already lost one bright soul— we’d be crushed to lose another.”

And in that moment it hits you. They’re not going to save Viktor— they’re not even going to try! He’s already deemed a lost cause, a failure to the order. Not to you. Never to you.

You two promised you’d escape Tatooine and live long, happy lives together. You’re already halfway there.

You just need to save Viktor from himself.

And kill the people responsible for corrupting him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After that, you resign from the Order. They’re shocked, expectedly so. You and Viktor were their strongest Padawan, now their strongest Jedi. They’ve lost one to the dark.

They lost the other to their negligence.

Obi-Wan, Yoda, and the rest of the Jedi Council try their best to dissuade you. None of them succeed.

You know that they will control your actions as long as you are within their walls. So you leave, and you leave behind your green lightsaber.

You feel as if you’ve outgrown this one. Another kyber crystal is calling for you, you can feel it.

With that, you leave the one place you felt like was yours. All in the name of love.

You truly are a horrible Jedi.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It takes weeks of excavation, but you eventually find the crystal that’s been singing your name, calling for you, and begging you for a chance.

It’s beautiful.

Even more beautiful than your previous crystal. You’ve collected all the required components to re-build your saber, now you just need to actually build the damn thing.

You place all the pieces down and mediate. Letting the force run through you like a calm river, you subconsciously feel your saber being made. When you open your eyes, you hold back a soft gasp.

It’s wonderful. A beautiful steel handle with fine markings and it’s perfectly balanced. You ignite the saber and try not to cry. It’s purple.

Just like your Master’s.

With your resolved hardened and new saber in hand, you continue on your self-imposed quest to save Viktor.

And save him you will.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was shockingly easy to find them. After months of tracking, tracing, and pulling every move of stealth you know, you've finally done it.

You asked around, used some mind-tricks on unwilling citizens, and interrogated others in a way that’d make the Jedi ashamed of you.

Good thing you’re no Jedi.

Viktor and Silco are in the councillors building, in Silco’s private room. You casually make your way there, your black cloak billowing ominously.

Before anything else can happen, you slam the door open with the force and ignite your lightsaber.

Someone is going to die today, and it isn’t you.

The two men look shocked at your arrival. Instead of dawning your usual white and beige outfit, a green saber in hand, you wear more dark colours. Black, brown, and hints of beige encapsulate your figure, a purple saber replacing your old one.

There’s an angry look in your eye that the two men only saw once, and it almost caused Silco’s death.

Seems like you’re back to finish the job.

Before you can swing at Silco, Viktor protects him. His yellow saber gone. In place is now a red one.

You want to cry. His old saber matched his eyes perfectly. You always mentioned it every time you two trained together. Now it’s gone. He’s changed just as much as you have.

The fight is intense, brutal in all honesty. The sweet face Viktor used to have is gone. Now it’s even more sharp, and his eyes have an orange— almost red tint to them. The pure gold now gone as well.

The eyes of a Sith.

You slash each other, block, dodge, kick, scream, taunt. A violent dance of passion and contempt, with hints of underlying tension.

Lust.

The Jedi Masters were always worried the two of you would pursue a relationship, even though those temptations were strictly forbidden.

But who doesn't crave forbidden fruit?

Now, you both are free of said rules. It's just you two, in a world unfamiliar to you.

Your lightsabers are clashed together. Purple sparking off of red, as you two sneer at one another.

Viktor's canines are sharp as he scowls at you. It reminds you of a fearsome feline. His eyes are narrowed and he pushes against you relentlessly.

You're no better. You can feel your lips pulled back against your teeth as you snarl deep in your chest. The muscles in your neck pulsing as you fight back against the man you love.

A small twirl disengages your clash and you slam Viktor into the wall with the force, pining him down.

You turn your attention to Silco, who's just been sitting there enjoying the two of you trashing his office. You take your free hand not holding your lightsaber and cup it in the air, imitating a choke hold.

Silco goes flying into the air and stills, choking in place viciously. You can hear Viktor yelling at you but it's muffled. All you see is the man who took your best friend from you, and you're getting your vengeance.

You squeeze harder and Silco slams into your waiting palm, a slightly scared look on his face. You look deep into his eyes and enter his mind without consent.

Flashes of memories assault you. Plans, manipulations, grooming, betrayal. One conversation piques your interest. The grandest plan Councillor Silco and Palpatine have.

They call it Order 66.

You feel like vomiting. You hold in all your disgust and revulsion as you pull away from Silco’s mind— ensuring you have all the information you need to prove both of the councillor's guilt.

A glare is all Silco gets before his neck snaps like a twig in your grasp. Viktor’s shout of shock returns you back to your senses, and you drop Silco's body like a rag doll.

Viktor is still pinned to the wall, but he's no longer fighting it. He sits still, stunned. His mouth is lightly agape as he looks at you, his eyes wide and dark. There's a bulge in his pants.

You quirk an eyebrow and Viktor looks away in shame. But he's still that defiant boy you grew up with, and quickly whips his head back to look at you.

“Why did you kill him?! The Jedi are horrible, I just wanted to protect you— why did you kill him?!” His voice gets louder with each sentence, his accent sharp and his tone desperate.

The force hold on him disappears and Viktor slumps against the wall, defeated. You sit next to him.

“Because he lied and manipulated you. He took you from me. The Jedi weren't going to help you, so I did it myself.”

Viktor looks shocked, the orangey-red tint slowly dissipating in his eyes, their original golden hue shining through, “You— what? You went against the Jedi?”

A scoff escapes you against your will, “I left the Jedi Order.”

“When?!”

“The day you left.”

The silence between you is deafening. Viktor looks shocked, a violent blush is seen across his cheekbones and ears. He swallows deeply before asking, “That... That was months ago! Why?!”

You shrug, “Because you left. The Jedi weren't going to help, and I've always known they weren't the best. Taking children away from their families when they're babies, indoctrinating them into the Order, their silly rules. The Sith aren't any better either.”

Viktor now looks curious, he gazes at you deeply and you feel like coughing. He's always been so… incredibly handsome. Now, with his full focus on you, you can't help but recognize that.

“So I've come up with my own code.”

The man next to you smiles, a chuckle leaving his throat, it’s one of the sexiest things you've ever heard, “Tell me? You always used to complain about the code when we were Padawans. I had to make you stop talking so many times before a Master heard you.”

You sigh contently and rest your head in Viktor’s shoulder, the black leather of his outfit cooling your heated cheek,

“There must be both dark and light. I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life. There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish. There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order. I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance. I am a guardian of life. I am a Gray Jedi.”

Viktor looks at you and huffs, “A Grey Jedi? Really?”

You snort at his tone and lightly hit his chest, “I came up with the concept like a week ago, leave me alone.” The two of you laugh before a peaceful, comfortable silence envelops you two. You enjoy it immensely before ruining it, “Why did you leave?”

The shoulder you're leaning on stiffens, and for a second you think Viktor isn't going to answer, but he does, “I already told you, I just wanted to protect you. I was getting horrible nightmares— Visions about your death. I couldn't handle it. Silco told me he knew a way to prevent it, and I accepted whole heartedly. Without thinking of the consequences.”

You hum, “It was a trick you know? Silco and Palpatine placed those images in your head using the force. They wanted a strong Sith Lord, powerful in the force, to mock the downfall of the Jedi Order.”

“The downfall—?”

“Palpatine put chips in the clone’s heads, with a special order called “Order 66”, it’s meant to overtake the clone's will and eradicate any Jedi in the clone's path. Doesn't matter if they're a Master, a Padawan, or a Youngling.”

Viktor’s sharp inhale is all you need to know. He didn't know.

“And— and there's proof?”

You nod, slowly getting up and going over to Silco’s desk, inputting the password, and taking all the necessary documents and voice pads.

“We’ll anonymously submit these findings to the Council and the Jedi Order. They can deal with all this shit. They can help the clones. I’m done.”

Viktor slowly gets up as well and walks over to you, “And, what will we be doing?”

You surge forward kissing Viktor passionately. The beautiful man gasps, and you use that to your advantage to add tongue to the kiss.

You may not have much physical experience, but you do have experience in reading dirty novels and touching yourself secretly.

The kiss eventually breaks and Viktor looks shocked and pleased, “We’re going to Naboo, and you're going to fuck me. I've always wanted to go there and I've always wanted you.”

VIktor chokes as you take his hand, step over Silco’s body, and exit the office.

He never expected this. But he’s not complaining.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There's an uproar at the Council and the Jedi Order. Palpatine is charged and executed for crimes against the Council and the Order. The Clones are healed and clear of any signs of the chip's potential betrayal.

The two of you don't know this though. You're too busy at Naboo, finally getting what you've always wanted.

Each other.

Your kisses are sloppy, passionate, and desperate. All of the emotions bottled up from your time at the Jedi Order overflowing and finally seeing the light of day.

Your garbs are removed quickly, the tunics, the pants, the tops, the boots. All that's left are your undergarments. You push Viktor onto the bed, and slowly crawl your way up towards him. His large bulge taunting you.

A small nod is all you get before your fingers hook into Viktor's undergarments and his cock springs free. Hard, leaking, and beautiful. Just like him.

You wrap your hand around the shaft and Viktor hisses in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. His face is flushed, his lips are plump and red, and his long hair is a mess. Pieces of brown and blond hair stick to his forehead, and fan across his shoulder wonderfully. God. You could stare at him all day.

"Y'know..." You start slyly, your hand slowly pumping up and down. You remove your hand and lightly spit into it before pumping him again, the slide much smoother this time, "I would fantasize about this."

The groan that escapes Viktor is animalistic. Needy. He bites his lower lip as his lower abdomen clenches in excitement, "Really? Oh do continue."

You hum sarcastically, "Yup. I'd sneak in dirty books from the market and read them late into the night. I'd picture I was the main character and that you were the love interest. I'd touch myself almost every night to the filthy words on the page. Imagining it was you and me."

The tip of Viktor's cock enters your mouth and his back bows at the intense feeling. Your confession, the warmth of your mouth, the glint in your eyes. Viktor isn't sure he can survive this.

His hands fly to grasp your hair desperately as he gasps in pleasure. Moans and whimpers escape him-- alongside chopped up variations of your name.

This goes on for several minutes before the pitch in Viktor's voice heightens, and he's trying to pull your lips off his cock, "I'm going to cum! Wait! Not yet! Not until you--" A low groan escapes him when you shove your head down to the base of his cock, his brown curls tickling your nose. He cums straight down your throat.

He whimpers as you slowly pull off his cock, a self satisfied smirk on your lips. Viktor just lays there, panting.

"You asshole. I wanted to cum with you. Now I can't."

You can't help but giggle at Viktor's petulant tone, you crawl up his body kissing a trail as you go before plopping a sweet kiss on his plump lips, "You still can. Don't tell me you won't get hard again fingering me open to stuff me full of your cock?"

Viktor's eyes widen at your crude language before laughing himself, "Wow. You truly weren't lying about those filthy books." You take your undergarments off and Viktor just looks in awe at you. You're so gorgeous, he's the luckiest man in the galaxy.

He takes his time with you. Sucking hickey's into your neck, abusing your chest, appreciating your abdomen and waist, squeezing your hips and ass. He eventually makes his way to your hole, and he licks it. You buck up in shock and gasp. The feeling electric. He continues to lick, exploring as much as he can. Your moans get breathier and breathier at the assault, until the pulls away.

"Give me the lube on the side table."

You follow his order without question. Viktor pops open the cap and puts some lube on his fingers, before going back to eating you out. He slowly puts a finger inside as he continues to lick at you. This feels amazing, it's better than all your dirty books and fantasies combined.

Eventually three fingers are pumping in and out of you as you whine for something bigger.

And something bigger you get.

He's stretching you, filling you up to the brim. Even with all the preparation, all the lube, it still wasn't enough. Then Viktor pumps his hips, and it's game over.

All you can do is moan as Viktor's massive cock hits all your sensitive spots. The two of you engage in a passionate kiss as you moan into each other's mouths. You rub your sensitive bundle in tune with Viktor's thrusts, and before you know it. You're cumming.

All his foreplay really paid off. All you can see are stars clouding your vision as you enter nirvana. Viktor continues to pump his hips, desperate for his second orgasm. In a few minutes, he get's his release, and cums deep inside you.

He plops down, laying on top of you as he pants in exertion. You run one hand through his long hair as the other trails random shapes on his back. His cock shrinks a bit, maybe an inch or two and it pops out of your hole, his creampie following suit.

The two of you lay in bliss. You never though you'd get here, the Jedi forbidding it and the Sith manipulating your lovers mind.

But you're here now, and that's all that matters. The two of yo share one final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You're in each others arms, stuck together like glue. As it should be.

As it will be until the end of time.

Before the two of you fully fall asleep, you both say the three words you’ve always wanted to hear from one another ever since you were young.

“I love you.”

Y'all I don't know what happened. I saw this request, blacked out, and this is the result. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, no you didn't and blame Grammarly. Idk if this is the vibe you're doing for dear requester bur tbus is what my mind came up with. Xoxo hope ya enjoyed it! ❤️

[eu-nicola]

the shadow of memory

summary: anakin/darth vader visits you to torment you

you know english is not my first language and i think there is no warning

The air was heavy, thick with a silence that hurt more than a thousand screams. Padmé’s funeral was over, but the weight of her absence was just beginning. You didn’t cry during the ceremony at least not out loud. You stood tall, right next to Solo, who was also struggling not to fall apart. Your sister’s face, so peaceful in death, looked like she was just sleeping like any second she might wake up and ask about the babies. The babies…

It was after everyone had left, when the flowers were already starting to wilt under Naboo’s sun, that you saw him. Obi-Wan. He showed up like a shadow, quiet as a whisper, his cloak still stained by war, his eyes empty.

“Obi-Wan?” you asked, your voice a whisper filled with surprise and barely contained anger. Despite the pain, you wanted answers. You needed to know why your sister was gone, why you had lost everything.

He didn’t answer right away. He looked at you like he was trying to find the right words in a language he didn’t speak anymore. In his arms, wrapped carefully in a light blanket, were two tiny bundles. Twins. Fragile, new to the world, unaware of everything that had been ripped away from them.

“Are they…?” You couldn’t finish the question. You already knew before he nodded.

“Luke and Leia,” he said, his voice so broken it was barely recognizable. “Anakin and Padmé’s children.”

Your legs gave out, and Solo caught you by instinct. You looked at the babies, those two miracles born in the middle of an apocalypse and your heart shattered. They were so small. Innocent. And now, orphaned.

“What are we supposed to do with them?” Solo asked, his voice more steady than yours. “They can’t stay here, right?”

Obi-Wan slowly shook his head.

“The Empire will come looking. Not now, not right away… but they’ll find them if we don’t protect them. I need time. Time to figure things out.”

Then he looked you straight in the eyes. It was a plea but also a burden.

“There’s no one else I can trust,” he said. “Only you.”

You took Leia first. She was tiny, lighter than you imagined, her face calm, like she already knew she was safe.  

Then Luke, his little fists clenched and making soft noises in his sleep.

You didn’t know what it felt like to have your own kids.  

But that day... it felt like your soul got split in two and each half was placed in your arms.

The hideout wasn’t in Naboo, but not too far either. An old house, halfway between a dense forest and a village forgotten by every map. It had belonged to some distant relative, someone long gone, who left behind more dust than memories.

Those first days were weird. You didn’t know how to hold both of them at once. Leia cried more at night; Luke slept better in your arms than in the crib. Solo stayed with you. You didn’t even think about it. He was the only one who really understood your pain, and in his quiet way, he needed  something, someone to give him a reason again.

Solo trained while you sang old songs your mom used to sing to you. You took turns feeding, calming cries, making routines out of chaos. It was hard, but at the same time... there was peace. Something good. Something alive.

You’d catch yourself just staring at them for hours. Leia had Padmé’s forehead. Luke, on the other hand, had this serious look, like he already knew the world was cruel. Both of them had a bit of Anakin in them too, even though that still hurt to admit.

You wondered if they’d remember this place when they grew up. The wildflowers in the garden. The way you held onto them during your nightmares. Because the nightmares came. You’d wake up with Padmé’s scream echoing in your head, her breathing fading. And every time, one of the babies would be curled up next to you like they felt it, even in their sleep.

One night, Solo was asleep on the couch with Luke in his arms, and you stepped out onto the porch with Leia wrapped in a soft blue blanket.

“I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” you whispered not really to her, more to the moon. “But I promise I’ll take care of them. I’ll protect them with my life. Because they’re all I have left of you, Padmé.”

After that, the nights weren’t so quiet anymore.

At first, you thought it was just echoes of your grief, your pain making images in your head when you finally closed your eyes. But the dreams kept coming. Clearer. More real.

Anakin walked through ashes. His body, covered in burns and soot, moved through a field of burning wreckage. His hands, bloody and shaking, kept pushing aside faceless bodies like he was looking for someone… or something. Sometimes his eyes were blue. Other times, they were blazing red, empty, furious.

“Where are they?” he’d yell, over and over again like a twisted prayer. “Where did you hide them?”

You’d always wake up drenched in sweat, heart racing. Sometimes screaming. One night you even ran into the kids’ room, fully convinced something was hurting them. Luke slept peacefully. Leia was waving her tiny hands in her sleep. Everything was calm.

But you weren’t.

It started changing when the ships showed up in the sky.

Small ones at first scouting ships. They passed far away, but you and Solo saw them from the hilltop where you usually took the babies to soak in the afternoon sun. Solo was more skeptical at first more practical. Said they could just be regular patrols, new routes from Imperial expansion. But you knew better. You felt it.

“It’s like… like they’re looking for me,” you told him one night while fixing Leia’s crib. “Like they know they’re alive. Like he knows.”

Solo looked at you, worried, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Bail Organa showed up at dawn, with the wind picking up and a security team hidden in the trees. Leia was asleep on your chest when his figure appeared at the door, his cloak moving gently, his eyes heavy with sorrow.

“They intercepted a transmission,” he said, no sugarcoating. “They don’t know where they are but they know they exist.”

Your heart stopped.

“They have to be separated,” he went on. “It’s the only way they’ll survive.”

You shook your head. With your head. Your heart. Your whole body.

“You can’t ask me that. You can’t just come here and… take my niece from me!”

“I’m not taking her,” he replied, and for the first time, his voice shook. “I’m trying to save her. Naboo isn’t safe anymore. Leia needs an identity. A life where no one will ever suspect what she really is.”

“And what am I then? A shadow? Some temporary babysitter? They’re all I have left, Bail.”

He didn’t answer. But when he stepped closer and touched Leia’s face with such tenderness, you knew there was no choice. Not really.

The goodbye was a silent heartbreak.

You wrapped her in her little blue blanket. Kissed her forehead. Whispered things she didn’t understand, but maybe someday she would. When Bail carried her away, your chest clenched like a rusty trap. The only thing that held you up was his arm, steadying you when your legs gave out.

“She’s going to be okay,” he whispered in your ear. “She’ll grow up strong. Like Padmé.”

But it wasn’t over.

That same afternoon, Obi-Wan came back.

He looked different. Thinner, older, though it had only been weeks. Like he’d been wandering through the dark for centuries. Luke was playing with a pebble on the ground when he saw him and reached out, like he knew him.

“You can’t…” you started, voice a desperate whisper.

“I have to,” he answered, almost as broken as you were. “Anakin… Vader… he’ll keep searching. And Luke has to grow up far away from all of this. In the desert. Where no one’s watching. With me keeping an eye from afar.”

“Tatooine? That sand-covered hell?”

“With his family. The Lars. Not perfect, but… good. They can protect him.”

You hugged him. Like maybe if you held on tight enough, you could stay fused together. Like maybe he wouldn’t leave. Obi-Wan didn’t cry, but his eyes were red.

Luke laughed, clueless, not knowing the world was changing for him all over again.

When they left, you didn’t scream. You just stayed there, kneeling on the ground, wind messing up your hair, as the sound of the ship faded into the clouds.

Solo came close, quietly. He didn’t say anything. Just sat next to you and put an arm around your shoulders.

“This hurts so much I don’t even know how to breathe anymore,” you confessed, your voice breaking.

“Then breathe with me,” he said, pulling you to his chest. “One more time. Just one more. Then again. And again.”

And so you did.

Because you had nothing else left.

The weeks passed and the seasons changed, but you didn’t notice.

Time turned into something shapeless and slow. Days dragged on, heavy, full of sharp loneliness. Leia’s laughter no longer filled the house. Luke’s cries didn’t wake you up at night anymore. Just the wind, the creaking of old walls, and your own breath, getting more and more broken.

Solo didn’t leave. He had no real reason to stay, but none to go either. Sometimes you’d find him on the porch, fixing something that didn’t need fixing. He didn’t talk much, but he was always there when you trembled, when you screamed in your sleep, when you forgot how to breathe.

Naboo started to wither with you.

Imperial ships showed up first as tiny dots in the sky. Patrols. Scouts. At first, they didn’t stop. But then… they started to. Asking questions. Visiting nearby towns. Digging through old records and birth logs.

Your name hadn’t come up. Not yet.

But you knew the net was closing in.

You moved deeper into the woods. Left the memory-filled house behind the one where Leia had taken her first clumsy steps, and Luke had mumbled his first sounds.

Guilt was a beast that fed on you every night.

Anakin.

Always him.

You dreamt of him again, covered in ash. Searching. Whispering your name through clenched teeth. Sometimes his voice was that of a scared little boy. Sometimes it was a demon’s. Sometimes you woke up with your sister’s name on your lips, sure you’d heard her. Or seen her.

And then, one night, reality became darker than any nightmare.

You were alone. Solo had gone into town for supplies. The fire crackled softly in the hearth. The air was still. Unnaturally still.

And then you felt it.

Not a sound. Not a shape. Just a pressure in your chest. A chill crawling up your spine. A shadow sinking into your bones, like someone had yanked a thread that tied your soul to something much colder.

You turned slowly. And there he was.

Darth Vader.

He was taller than you remembered Anakin. Bigger. A massive, black figure. Breathing that mechanical, harsh breath like a monster crushed from the inside. You didn’t know how he got in. You hadn’t heard him. Hadn’t seen him. You just felt him, and then he was there, standing in the dim light of your home.

You didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

The fire behind him flickered, casting his monstrous silhouette on every wall. His mask glinted red. And you… you were just thinking about what it felt like to hold Luke. How Leia used to wrap her tiny hand around your finger when she slept.

Vader’s breathing was the only sound.

And then… he spoke.

He didn’t say your name. Didn’t accuse you. Didn’t ignite his saber or threaten your life.

He just murmured, almost like a lost echo in the cracks of the universe:

“Padmé…”

It wasn’t a question. It was a plea. A curse. A memory.

Your heart broke hearing it.

Your body tensed.

You didn’t know if he was seeing you… or seeing your sister’s ghost through you. You didn’t know if he wanted to kill you or hold you. But the worst part was you didn’t know what you wanted either. You just stared. And for a second, you saw him.

Anakin.

That scared little boy on Tatooine. The young man who laughed with Padmé in Naboo’s fields. The one who held your hand when you nearly fainted during your nephew’s birth.

But all of that was gone.

Only the shadow remained. Only the mask. Only Vader.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. A minute. A lifetime.

And then… he left.

Just like that. No words. No threats. No promises.

He left the smell of metal and death behind, and an emptiness in your chest that would never be filled again.

When Solo came back that night, he found you sitting on the floor, trembling, staring at the open door.

“What happened?” he asked, kneeling beside you.

You took a while to answer. Your voice was barely a whisper.

“He came.”

“Who?”

“Anakin.”

Solo didn’t ask anything else. He just hugged you. Held you until you stopped shaking.

The weeks after his appearance blurred together like damp cloths. You’d sealed the door. Moved shelters. Deeper into the forest, where the light barely touched the ground.

But it didn’t matter.

You knew he’d come back.

You didn’t know how, or when, but you knew why.

And that’s what terrified you the most.

It was a starless night. No moon. Even the wind didn’t dare to move. Solo was gone, in the village again. You sat by the fire without lighting it. Just in the dark.

And then you felt it. Again.

It wasn’t a presence. It was pressure. Like the air had turned to stone, and your lungs had to fight for every breath. You stood slowly, not out of fear more like worn-out resignation. Like you already knew everything that was about to happen was inevitable.

The door opened on its own.

And there he was.

The figure that wasn’t your brother-in-law. Not your sister’s husband. Not Anakin. It was something else. Something hollowed out. A body with memory, a mask with a voice.

But this time… he didn’t stay silent.

“You can bring her back.”

The metallic voice shook the walls, like even the forest flinched when it heard him. You looked at him, not moving. Not blinking.

“What are you talking about?”

He stepped closer, slow, heavy, like every step was dragged by a thousand invisible chains.

“The connection… it’s not broken.’ His helmet tilted slightly, like he was trying to read your soul through that prison of metal. ‘You feel it. I do too.”

And the worst part was… it was true.

You had felt Padmé. In dreams. In the breeze. In Leia’s voice, even though she wasn’t with you anymore. You’d felt her tenderness in your pain, her shadow in your reflection, her warmth when you woke up shaking.

“That doesn’t mean she’s alive,”

you said, throat tight.

“She’s not.” The answer was immediate. Brutal. But then, a pause. “But you can fill the void.”

The silence felt like it was crushing you.

“What do you want from me?” you asked. Not with fear. Just exhaustion.

Then, for the first time, Vader stepped closer. It wasn’t just you trembling now. The whole cabin shook. The air. The universe.

“Come with me.” His voice dropped, like an echo dragged across time. “I can teach you. I can give you power. You can be my apprentice… my ally…” There was a pause. “Or whatever you want.”

There was no tenderness in his words. No desire. No love.

Just need.

“You’re not in love with me,” you said, more like a statement.

“No.” His response was sharp. Final.

The voice was raw, no decoration. Almost painful.

“With you, Padmé still exists. Through you… I can see her. Feel her. Remember her.  

You can fill the void.”

You stood still. Feeling the walls of your soul cracking under the weight of his gaze. You knew he wasn’t lying. You knew there was a piece of Padmé inside you, and Vader, trapped in his storm of shadows, had sniffed it out like a desperate animal.

But you also knew one more thing.

You weren’t her. And you never would be.

“I don’t want power,” you whispered. “I don’t want your Empire. I won’t follow you into the darkness just so you can play with a memory.”

For a second, his helmet dipped. Like he was thinking. Like he regretted. Like he could feel, just for a moment, what he had lost.

“She loved you.” Your words were soft, like an open wound. “But not this. Not what you are now. And if I can feel her… then she hates me for seeing you like this.”

A silence that stretched as far as the night.

And then, without moving, Vader said one last thing:

“I’ll come back. When you’re ready.”

And he vanished.

Not like thunder.

Like a memory that never left.

That night, you cried. Not out of fear. Not for him.

You cried for her.

For what they had destroyed.

And for the awful certainty that… sooner or later… you’d have to face him, not as Padmé’s sister, but as something else.

You hadn’t seen him again. Not physically.

But he was everywhere.

In your reflection.

In the creaking branches at dusk.

In the dull pounding in your throat when you closed your eyes.

In your visions.

Visions too clear to be just dreams. You saw Anakin. Not the monster, not the metal shell, not the galaxy’s executioner. But the young man you’d met on Naboo, when he was still just the awkward apprentice hiding behind Padmé at diplomatic events.

You were his age.

You weren’t a kid when he first greeted you in the palace gardens, with that messy, nervous smile, too big for his face. Sometimes he looked at you with curiosity, with that intensity he couldn’t control. You looked back with sympathy, with warmth. You never thought anything of it.

Never… until now.

In your dreams, you saw him with wind-tossed hair, tunic half open, his skin still golden from Tatooine’s sun. You walked through fields of flowers together, no words, no war, no death. Just his voice, soft and rough, saying your name like he was tasting it.

And you felt whole. Light. Alive.

But it always ended the same way.

The sky turned black.

And the flowers burned.

And suddenly, standing in front of you, it wasn’t young Anakin anymore.

It was Vader.

His mechanical breathing drowned everything else. His presence felt like a prison. And you… you looked at him. Unable to move. Unable to run. Not because you were frozen with fear.

But because something inside you still searched for him.

You’d wake up with your heart in your throat. Sweat clinging to your neck. Shame stabbing like a dagger beneath your ribs. You’d get up in the middle of the night, pacing through the cabin like a wounded animal, trying to suffocate a truth that kept growing stronger:

You still felt it.  

Not for what he is now. Not for the tyrant, not for the machine. But for what he used to be. For what he could’ve been. For what you saw in his eyes, long before they burned on Mustafar.

And that tore you apart.

One afternoon, sitting by the river, you hugged your knees tightly, shaking, while the wind stirred the leaves. Solo sat beside you without saying a word.

“There’s something… wrong with me,” you said, your voice cracking. “Something rotten, something sick.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared into the water.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t hate him. Because… sometimes… I want to see him again.”

The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with a truth you didn’t even know how to name.

“I don’t love him,” you whispered, almost begging. “But I miss him. I miss who he was. And I don’t know if that makes me a monster… or just an idiot.”

Solo let out a soft breath, like he understood everything. Like there was no need to explain.

“Loving what’s been lost isn’t a sickness,” he finally said. “But still wanting it… when you know what it became… that can kill you.”

And you knew he was right.

That night, when you dreamed again, young Anakin showed up once more. But this time, he didn’t walk toward you. He just watched you from a distance, eyes blue and wet, full of sorrow. Like he knew he couldn’t stay.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears caught in your throat. “Sorry I didn’t save you. Sorry I didn’t do more.”

But he didn’t reply. Just turned around.

And as he walked away, the horizon burned again. And the black silhouette of Vader rose like an immortal shadow.

But this time… you didn’t move closer.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you opened your eyes, you weren’t in the cabin anymore. The forest was gone. Naboo, Solo, the sweet wind… all of it had vanished. You were on a ship, cold and silent, surrounded by dark metal, the distant hum of unknown engines echoing around you. In front of you stood Darth Vader, tall and still like a statue made of obsidian.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

You knew where he was taking you.

Mustafar.

The cursed planet where it all ended. Where Padmé died. Where Anakin stopped existing. Where something monstrous was born. You recognized it the moment you landed: the burning sky, the rivers of lava, the heat that came not from the sun but from the guts of death itself.

You walked behind him without asking anything. Vader’s steps echoed like funeral bells in the stone tunnels. He led you through a fortress carved out of hate. Empty rooms, windowless halls, corridors where the Force seemed to quietly weep. Until you reached a door. Sealed. Ancient. Alive.

“Only you can enter.” His mechanical voice was a whisper. A command. A confession.

The door opened for you, like it knew who you were.

And then you stepped into the crypt.

There was no coffin.

No body.

Just… remnants.

Objects. Clothes. Pieces of holoprojections. A lock of hair. A doll. The faded scent of dried flowers. And in the middle of it all, a figure sitting on a throne of black stone: a sculpture… of Padmé. Graceful. Delicate. Beautiful.

And broken.

Part of her face was missing.

One of her arms was cracked, resting like it was holding onto a last thought.

Behind the statue, a series of screens looped her face. She spoke in fragmented phrases. Laughter, glances, gestures caught by hidden cameras or synthetic reconstructions. It wasn’t Padmé.

It was an obsession.

A prison built to keep something that didn’t exist anymore.

And you… you fell to your knees when you saw it.

Tears came without warning. Your sister, that bright and brave woman who’d loved a man destined for darkness, wasn’t there. There was nothing left. Just the traces of love rotted by the need to possess.

Vader didn’t come closer.

He just spoke from the shadows:

“All of this… is for her.”

You closed your eyes, fists clenched.

“This isn’t love,” you whispered. “It’s a ruin.”

But he didn’t hear you. Or didn’t want to. He stepped forward. For the first time, his voice shook.

“I can bring her back. I’ve seen it. The old teachings… the powers the Jedi were afraid of…” His voice turned almost human, almost a plea. “With your help… she can return.”

You turned to him, still kneeling. Your face wet, your lips trembling. That black helmet stared at you with no eyes. No soul. But you saw him. You saw Anakin, on his knees like a broken child.

“Why me?” you asked. “Why won’t you let her rest?”

His breathing slowed. Grew heavier.

“Because you… you’re the closest thing I have left to her. Because when I talk to you… sometimes… it feels like Padmé’s still out there somewhere.”

“And because I don’t know how to be alone.”

Your chest shattered.

The tears weren’t just yours anymore. They were hers. Padmé’s. All the words she never got to say. The hugs she never gave you. The children who never knew her.

You stood up. Slowly. And walked toward him.

Closer.

So close you could hear the inner hiss of his respirator. So close you could see your reflection, warped, in the helmet covering the man who once looked at you with warmth in Naboo’s gardens.

And then you told him, voice shaking, torn by love, rage, and grief:

“Padmé died the day you killed her.”

“And I… I died the day I realized I still loved you.”

Silence.

A void.

For a second, you thought you saw his helmet tilt. Like something deep inside him, something raw and torn, understood what you just said. Like that truth cut deeper than any lightsaber ever could.

But he didn’t reply.

He just walked away.

Vanished into the shadows of the crypt.

And you… you stepped out into the fire of Mustafar, with your heart buried forever.

From that night on, you never dreamed of Anakin again.

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 21 - Hurt/Comfort

For @himilce-persephoniea who asked for "gentledom Obi-Wan that can calm down feral Anakin"🫂

Give Me That Peace and Joy - 1,189 Rating: M Content: Established Relationship / Implied Sexual Content / Angst / Hurt/Comfort / Self-Hatred / Demigod Anakin Skywalker / Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug / Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi / Character Study / Relationship Study / Mental Breakdown / Mental Health Issues

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Anakin was spiralling, falling, colliding into the abyss, the currents of his fractured psyche dragging him down. Putrid black bile tore through his insides while acrid smoke filled his lungs, hollowing him out until nothing was left but the maddening call of the void below. Self loathing and doubt coated his mouth, lips pulled tight, spit frothing from the corners like a mad dog as he pulled at the chains that bound and howled back at the void.

How long had he stood at this precipice but never stepped over? How many times had he almost slipped but never quite fell? How many times had he heard the braying of the choir that told him to jump - to soar - but never once fallen?

Too many times, it seemed. Eventually something would snap deep inside - the chain would break and chaos would ensue. It was inevitable, really. Anakin had heard the hushed whispers in the halls and behind partially shut doors, hurried looks of curiosity mixed with fear from his fellows, of a boy gilded in prophecy but with a tear in his mind that made him broken; fractured; incomplete.

It was frightening (he was frightening).

It was dangerous (he was dangerous).

It was destiny.

Tearing at his chest with bloodied knuckles Anakin pressed into his sternum, choking on a sob as he curled in further and further, trying to make himself as small as he could - as unnoticed as he could.

Perhaps if he cried enough, screamed enough, destroyed himself enough he could be free of this magnitude. Perhaps if he broke into a million pieces he couldn’t be put back together. Perhaps if no one noticed, the Force and all its beauty and horror would look the other way - find another to favour, to cherish, to love.

But Obi-Wan wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t let Anakin hollow himself out, pour his messes across the floor and let the dogs lap it up. He wouldn’t allow Anakin to turn in on himself, to become small and pitiful and weak. He wouldn’t allow the pieces to go unmade, wouldn’t allow the fractures to break apart, wouldn’t allow Anakin to be anything other than—

“My darling boy.”

Strong hands gripped his own, pulling them away from his chest. Angry welts from his nails were touched by these same hands, his palms both warm and cool as they ran across Anakin’s neck and down his chest, soothing the ache for just a moment. Another sob broke past Anakin’s lips but was swallowed by a gentle kiss, Obi-Wan pressing his warm lips to Anakin’s chapped and broken ones, pressure firm and solid. Anakin tried to push, to lash out, to get away from the dignity and the kindness but Obi-Wan remained firm, his grip solid behind his neck, the taste of him washing away the sick, the smell of him familiar.

Breaking the kiss Anakin closed his eyes, and like a child seeking warmth curled up against Obi-Wan. He could still hear the howling of the abyss behind him, each tug of it unravelling him further, the allure of sinking into his own insanity still tempting. Gritting his teeth he pushed against Obi-Wan further, desperate to be a part of him, locked within his ribs and curled around his heart, protected from the agony of his existence.

With trembling hands he pulled and tore at Obi-Wan’s robes, breath stuttering as he stripped him of his layers until marred skin was exposed to him. Obi-Wan murmured soft words that Anakin couldn’t hear, his body taught, muscles firm beneath Anakin’s desperate touch as he continued to rip at his Jedi trappings until all that was left was the man beneath it all.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin pleased, desperate for something though he knew not what.

Solace? Penance? Affirmation?

He caught Obi-Wan in a fierce kiss, his own robes pushed and pulled at, his bruised body exposed to the outside air that stung and nipped his overheated flesh. Climbing on to his lap he grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and brought it between them, pushing his aching length against his palm, begging Obi-Wan to touch him, cherish him, wash away the filth and the hurt until he was whole again. Until he was who Obi-Wan always said he was.

Keeping his hand on Obi-Wan’s wrist he moaned softly as the flex of Obi-Wan’s wrist coupled with the press of his hand, fingers wrapping tight as he stroked him with a steady grip. Obi-Wan continued to speak to Anakin though his words made little sense, wrapped up and coursing with the flow of blood through Anakin’s head and chest, thunderous and overwhelming.

But Anakin felt it. Felt the adoration, the steadiness - the truth - of Obi-Wan’s words. He believed them as he spoke them against Anakin’s jaw and along his neck, breath hot and sticking to Anakin’s flesh, bumps spread out across his quaking form as he ground down harder. Thighs trembling and body humming, Anakin fell further into Obi-Wan’s embrace, his hands trailing along his body, memorising and admiring every folly and perfection.

Obi-Wan was real and solid; a reminder of Anakin’s existence in this world. He wasn’t just a creation of the Force, swallowed up in its magnificence, bound by its orders. He was a child of flesh and blood, loved by someone so achingly human it sometimes hurt Anakin to think about. Obi-Wan was perfect despite the imperfection of his creation, unlike Anakin.

But maybe if Anakin swallowed enough of his sweat, his tears, his come - his humanity - then it’d soak into him. It’d lay down seeds that would grow and spread like vines through his body, beating back the slow creep of death and destiny, making Anakin into someone who could inspire rather than revolt, love rather than fear, fulfil rather than hunger.

Grinding down Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s own eagerness, thick and hard beneath him. It was this reminder - that Obi-Wan wanted him, desired him, craved him - that sent Anakin down into his release.

Obi-Wan loved Anakin.

He spasmed and shook, a blissful sigh slipping past his chapped lips, the assurances of Obi-Wan’s belief in him coursing through him. He kissed Obi-Wan then, tasting the tea on his lips, feeling the wisps of his beard that tickled, hearing the soft sigh of his own release. He held Obi-Wan close until his hands ached, his arms ached, his chest ached, still desperate to be inside of him - to be anywhere but in his own body, his own mind.

When they were done he dropped his head down to the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan stroked his back, palms hot and rough, fingers pressing into the bruises on Anakin’s body, feeling the dips of his ribs and the bumps of his curled spine. With another sob Anakin curled in as close as he could, cradled in the arms of the only person that knew, that understood, that loved despite it all.

[tragedy-for-sale]

Old Wounds Never Heal

I really just want to talk about the last frame. But throughout all frames, you can see his concern, his worry, his discomfort.

In the first frame, you can see how he's trying to advocate for himself. He's trying so hard to prove that Maul is a threat they cannot overlook but in his desperation his emotions get the better of him, he's hanging on by a thread, he's on the verge falling back into his grief, you can see it in his eyes, he wants so desperately to be heard that he loses his argumentative credibility as a Jedi, there is no emotion, there is peace, but Obi-Wan cannot be at peace. It's a little hard to find peace in knowing Qui-Gon's murderer is alive.

It's the Jedi Code that keeps him from actually addressing how he truly felt. There is no death, there is the Force; But Obi-Wan, oh Obi-Wan, he knows of the unfathomable horror that is to watch someone you love die, to watch their last breath physically leave their body. There is the Force and there is the hand of death, ripping Qui-Gon from Obi-Wan's arms leaving him with nothing but the Force.

Obi-Wan looks to Anakin because what if he's feeling this all too deeply? What if the Chancellor is right? What if Obi-Wan is not being the Jedi he should be? He looks to Anakin because he would know, Anakin would know.

In the last frame, Obi-Wan realizes his feelings are being dismissed, but he's not supposed to have feelings, not for this anyway, for they were born through attachment, through his grief for Qui-Gon. Jedi cannot form attachments. So, he holds himself close, because once again, he has to bury all his pain.

[paroslineage]

I'm Home....

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader.

TW : Blood, Reader Death, Gore, Detailed descriptions of death, Mentions of death.

This is my own original idea and the characters of JJK do not belong to me but Gege Akutami. Do not steal :/

Genre : Angst To Comfort

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Original Content do not steal or repost on other platform as your own material and this is the only platform I write so If you see anything on other platforms, immediately report.

Masterlist.

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It was almost in a blur, how quick it was.....

Satoru laid on the ground, waist cut in half as his legs remained standing, with his left arm cut off as he coughed up blood.

Fighting the King Of Curses wasn't a walk in the park. He gave it his all, yet was defeated by a Curse who merely even tried.

As he closed his eyes, and opens them, now he was in a field of dandelions, the most cherished flower of his Kikufuku, reminding him of what you had told what the flowers symbolized..

hope, healing, and resilience.

Qualities which you possessed before you were brutally killed off by the hands of Toji Fushiguro and forever ripped away from your dear husband Satoru.

And there on the other side is where you.

Y/N Gojo, his once beloved best Friend now Wife stood, smiling serenely, waiting for him.

You were dressed as ethereal as that night....

Wearing a mint green Kimono robe dress with an obi wrapped around your delicate,dainty waist worn with crystal mint green heels that glimmered in the refraction of the sun.

Subtle natural beautiful makeup,hair in a elegant low bun and decorated with a intricate hair stick.

It was your outfit of your wedding with the Satoru Gojo.

You wordlessly opened your dainty arms, long wide sleeves of the Kimono fluttering and swaying along with the Autumn winds and smiled widely and called out to him in a gentle timbre of voice

"Satoru..."

Satoru's heart fluttered as his beloved Kikufuku's calm and soothing voice filled the air gracing his ears, The one which he longed to hear after all that dreaded night.

...

He remembers mourning in anguish as he held your bloodied corpse cradled to his chest robbed away from him so suddenly his heart could not take it.

...

He remembers the sadistic laughter of Toji Fushiguro as it mocked him not being able to save his wife after he just got married.

...

He remembers swearing vengeance on your pitiful ,brutal death as he kissed your bloodied forehead.

...

You were robbed away from him on the night of your wedding.

and now...

He could finally rest in your arms...

Satoru closed his eyes once more, and opens them back up to make sure what he was seeing was not a hallucination, you still stood at your place looking as regal and majestic as ever.

The calm, peaceful, and kind smile on your face gave him solace, acting as a healing balm to his singed soul.

Satoru slowly rose from where he laid, to your level.

"Y/N..."

Satoru spoke waveringly and full of emotion, his clear blue gaze never wavering once from your form.

Your arms were still stretched out open for Satoru to run into and find solace.

Without hesitation, Satoru ran into your open arms like a madman, falling to his knees, burying his head into your stomach.

Both of you stood there for what seemed like forever not like neither of you minded.

Never once wanting this moment to end at all costs, before Satoru looks up at you to see your wide child-like smile still on your visage smiling down at him with nothing but fondness and love.

"Satoru ....you're finally home..."

You said with a emotional happy tone eyes becoming misty as you took in the man Satoru still looked as handsome as before and gently petted his soft alabaster hair from which Satoru teared up even more and sobbed wordlessly into your obi clad stomach.

His once and forever eternal flame was finally lost and found.

Satoru nods frantically, still with tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

Then, he got up and towered over your petite stature and kissed your forehead, cradling you firmly but lovingly in his strong muscular arms.

Nothing could hurt you, for now both of the lost, separated lovers now reunited in the realm of Tranquility and Serenity.

not now, not ever.

"My Kikufuku, I'm home..."

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 23 !!!

I'm back batchers rip my sleep schedule lmao but nothing can stop me from watching tbb

I've got my skittles and my tumblr and disney+ and I'm ready to go 🤟

The Bad Batch 2x03

this entire planet looks like it's made of spice

nervous imperial you're not fooling anyone my dude

Tawni Ames 👑 shoutout to the queen herself Tasia Valenza 💕

CORUSCANT !!!

CROSSHAIR 🥺🥲😭💕❤ I missed you sm (I watched s1 hours ago 🤫)

another Kallus parallel 👀

regs will always hate tbb lololol

Rampart 🔫😁(me, I hate his guts)

32 rotations... 32 ROTATIONS I- 😫

the empire are bitches and we don't negotiate with terrorists

the memorial wall 🥲 (we're gonna pretend it isn't a bunch of random letters hehe)

a few behind Crosshair literally say: sdflkphi, dkniihqaz, aweututn, qqhgouer ~ anyone know more aurebesh than me who can explain this pls ??

he called him by his name !!!

CODY CODY CODY CODY 💕💕💕💕👑👑👑👑

Cody's face when Crosshair mentions the jedi 😭

the only two without their helmets on !!!

FLASHBACK TO THE FIRST BAD BATCH APPEARANCE IN TCW 👀

"mmhmmmm" ~ battle droid, bro 💀

"Dooku was right in the end" real

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs" 👀

"How unfortunate... for you" ~ someone else said this and now I can't find it 🙃 anyway I'm pretty sure it was Crosshair idk

the droid high five lmaooo

clever boys 👑

Crosshair and Cody team up will never fail to make me happy 👌

"I've beaten clankers with far less" tbb mention 🥲💕

Cody trusting Crosshair 🥰 "you do make things interesting" I'd love to see early Cody + tbb missions pretty pretty please 🥺

my mans doesn't even flinch !!!!!

I can feel his smirk when he blows up the tank hehe

Cody has a jetpack and still went nah Ican make that jump 😂 I mean he did but still

Cody complimenting Crosshair 💕

WYLER AND NOVA OWN MY HEART FR

droidekas !!!

Wyler r.i.p my love 💔

There is just something about clones vs droids ya know

Crosshair and Nova silent communication I love it 👌

Cody screaming for Nova and Crosshair pulling him away 😭😭😭😭

r.i.p Nova my beloved 💔

Crosshair's discs !!!!

backflip !!!!

knife knife knife knife knife- 👀

Crosshair calling for Cody to help 🙃

KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE-

Crosshair putting the puck in Cody's hand - bro at first I thought mans was too injured to move the way he was like 'throw it for me I can do it from laying down in this spiral staircase' and he makes the shot and stands up 2 seconds later and is back to committing war crimes ?? Crosshair you dramatic bitch 💀

"nice throw" "nice shot" 🥰🥰🥰🥰

notice how the tk troopers got captured so they send clones to get them out.... 🙃

Mina Bonteri 💔

"peace was never an option" devastating

the clone music when Cody reasons with Tawni 😫🤧

Crosshair following orders but also saving Cody from having to kill Tawni

the Crosshair music 🥲

"so much for peace" 💔

"put her body in the square" but I can imagine how gentle he would have been with her body... do you think he left his helmet off so the people could see his face or did he cover his face for that

Ok I want to go full english teacher for a moment I'll do it in a few eps watch this space 👀

Crossy and his lil toothpick 💕 (he just murdered someone)

the clones did the dirty work now more tk troopers arrive 😡

Cody's whole speech 💔😭 "we make our own choices and we have to live with them too" knowing he's thinking about everything he's done and thinking he killed Obi-Wan... what if I screamed into the abyss ???

Crosshair not being able to sleep 😫

Rampart doesn't even know their names 😡

OKAY do we think "gone awol" means Cody has actually left or is he awol the same way Wilco is??

COME ON CROSSHAIR JUST LEAVE THE EMPIRE ALREADY 😫

hehe thank you for coming to my 2am tbb rewatch (again hehe) 💕 sorry it's late again if you saw any spelling miatakes no you didn't 🤟

[nicolabarth]

A Step in Between - Chapter 5

Read on AO3

Pairing: Obi-wan Kenobi/Cody/Darth Maul

Rating: Explicit

That’s how on day four Obi-wan watched Maul duck through a hole that they’d just torn into the hull of Obi-wan’s fighter with their combined force powers, and hit his horns on a low hanging support beam.

Maul cursed and Obi-wan bit his tongue to not laugh, even though he was sure his amusement bled into the force. “You aren’t used to them being so long, are you?”

He knew that Zabrak horns grew quite long, if you didn’t file them down regularly, and it made sense that Maul didn’t have the opportunity to do so in a prison cell.

“If you can’t provide a file and a mirror, at least spare me the commentary, Kenobi.” Maul ducked through the hole more carefully this time and started to rip out cables that seemed to be in his way.

“The Mandalorians left us quite the collection of knives, and we had Zabrak younglings at the temple when I was a Padawan and tasked with helping them now and then. I know how it’s done, I could cut your horns for you.” He wasn’t exactly looking forward to doing anything for Maul, but the less irritated the Sith was, the more likely it was that the peace would hold.

Maul threw him a look over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“We’re getting off this planet faster, if you don’t keep hitting your head on things,” Obi-wan argued.

[37-children-of-the-dreams]

I had a bad dream that immediately woke me up and reminded me that it was not The Bad Batch Eve. I dreamt I read an article that stated Crosshair died in the finale and I did not like that.

Look, I know someone is going to die (Thanks for the cryptic message Jennifer), but I really do not want it to be Crosshair who’s going to die. I get that Star Wars likes the “Redemption Equals Death” trope, but does Crosshair really deserve to die to say he has been fully redeemed?

They let Kallus live after everything he’s done and give him a redemption arc that did not led to his death. They can do it again with Crosshair. Please let them do it again with Crosshair.

Still, the worst part about Crosshair possibly dying is that he does have the biggest chance of dying in the finale for so many reasons:

Crosshair has done some morally wrong things that hurt his family. While they’ve done it much worse than him, Vader and Kylo Ren did things that broke their family, and they died.

Crosshair wants to do right with his family again after everything he has done to them. Again, Vader and Kylo hurt their family, but did the right thing in the end for them, which led to them dying.

Crosshair loves his family and isn’t afraid of dying for them. RIP to Bail and Breha Organa, Owen and Beru, and Obi-Wan for loving Leia and Luke and dying for them. RIP to Ephraim and Mira Bridger, and Kanan Jarrus for protecting their sons and dying for them to have a bright future.

Lastly, Crosshair is a clone in a series finale. May Jesse and the 332nd Company, and Gregor rest in peace knowing that they won’t have to fight another war. Technically, I could put Tech here since he sacrificed himself in season two’s finale.

Jennifer, please let Crosshair live. Let him be an exception to the “Redemption Equals Death” trope. Please just let him not die! Think of Omega’s needs!

[linpunny]

Taiju about Dessy: She kissed me. She kissed the devil. Only a beautiful soul like hers would kiss the damned.

∞ ❥Dessy Shiba • 30 • She/They • ISTP

∞ This blog is pure smut and my very feral and unhinged thoughts 99.99% of the time so please be aware that this blog is strictly 18+ only!!! Blank and ageless blogs will blocked!!!!!

∞ This is my safe space so please stay away if you are going to bring or give me any shit. I’ll shut it down immediately. Let me enjoy my ships and my writing in peace. If you haven’t noticed yet I ship heavily with Taiju Shiba say something about it to me and i won’t hesitate to block but not before ripping you a new hole. tee hee!

∞ ♥ Taiju’s Little one and Wife , Draken’s Princess, Seishiro’s pretty girl , Leviathan's Bully, Captain Zaraki’s lil buns, Captain Hitsugaya’s Headache, Sekido, Aizetsu, Karaku, and Urogi’s plaything, Dabi’s snowflake, part of Rin Matsuoka’s polycule, Zora Ideal’s prankster, Obi’s sunshine, Sasuke’s imaginary girlfriend and sometime lover♥

about me ∞ tags ∞ the burn book (byf/byi) ∞ m.list

Requests closed!

Mod and bottom brat of the 10th @the-hoetei-13

Dessy about Taiju: Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.

[adventuringblind]

"I Will Always Find You"

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: Reader and Cal are bonded by the force. Too bad the coucil can't see past her empathic abilities.

Request: No :( but requests are open! especially for this boi.

Warnings: kinda angsty and sad but also fluffy, mean Jedi council.

Author notes: Third person POV and no use of Y/N. Kinda a force mate thing because I love the concept of that. Does anyone else think that they need to embrace some emotions and be people? Idk I feel like peace keepers need to be able to empathize.

Word count: 1,416

Cal Kestis was one of the most caring Jedi she'd ever met. Growing up in the temple, she had been taught that all Jedi were supposed to be kind and gentle. Yet for her, that wasn't the case.

Blessed by the force with gifts the Jedi had not seen in years. Ones they believed could only lead down a dark path.

Emotions are a sensitive topic amongst the Jedi.

First they tried to force it down insides of her. Then attempted purging it from her memory. When they realized it was only growing stronger, the held her in a cell. Punished for something she can't control.

Having trained another who is strong in the force, Master Obi-wan Kenobi did his best to help her understand her powers. To guide her into becoming a strong Jedi knight. He was the first kind Jedi She'd ever met.

After finally showing enough improvment the coucil let her roam the temple. That's when she met him. More like he ran into her.

Somthing happened upon contact. A warmth like no other settled on her mind as she basked in his boyish glee over whatever he was running too or from.

"I'm so sorry!" he had all but shouted. An awkward tint forming on his cheeks.

Not having much contact with peers her age left her clueless as to what comes next. So she settled for smiling and nodding.

A spark formed that day. One neither of them could put out no matter how much they tried. They always found themselves seeking eachother out. Even learning to communicate through the force.

It didn't matter how good at hiding she had become. Years of practice evading her elders and yet he knew where she was.

"I will always find you." That was the first time she'd heard those words. Though at the the time she believed them to be arrogance over winning another game of hide and seek.

She would always know what he was feeling regardless of the distance. He always knew what she was thinking.

There were no secrets between them, no hidden skeletons. Yet he loved her regardless.

He wanted to fight for her. Get the coucil to see her side of things. Begged and pleaded with his master to get them to see her as he does.

Eventually his persistence payed off and he was granted an audience.

The two stood in front of the coucil and pleaded her case. Even with Master Kenobi on their side, it was no use. The Master Jedis in the room could feel the bond between the two padawaans standing before them.

The force flowing between the two, connecting them with invisible strings of fate.

The two of of them could become hazards to themselves and eachother. So they did the only logical thing and forced the two apart. Claiming that she was a danger to Cal and he should not be anywhere near her.

They screamed for eachother. Souls longing for the connection the two shared. A bond that couldn't be broken no matter how hard the coucil tried.

Neither of them understood at the time. Their Masters doing their best to comfort the young children. Both of them feeling a hint of resentment for the coucils decision.

Then she was alone again. Her Master and her best friend ripped away from her by war.

Confined to her room, nothing to do but listen to lectures about why her powers are a danger. How she needs to resist the dark side.

Everytime they felt her connecting to Cal through the force, they berated you. Words of hurt leaving their lips. Words claiming she would cause Cal to fall and having attachments is not the way of the Jedi. How she could never be a Jedi if she continues like this. It stung but she believed them.

She tried to break to bond between them. Spent hours meditating; researching a cure to the invisible line.

All she could find was how they would be better by eachothers side. The force wanted them together for a reason and regardless of what anyone said, she trusted the force to guide her back to him.

She knew they were trying to protect her and Cal. Their fear of the unknown hurting her more then helping.

She felt their uneasiness everytime they came close to her. Dread when she practiced her force abilities.

She knew when they were lying. She even perceived what Master Skywalker's intentions were. The look fear and anger radiating through the force around him made her want to vomit.

She tried to tell them. Tried to get then to run. But her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Irrational. Incompetent. Crazy. Falling for the seduction of the Darkside.

All things said to her that day.

And then it happened.

His rampage on the temple. The genocide of the Jedi.

She'd spoke to Cal earlier. Confessed her fears to him. The words he'd spoken the only comfort she had.

"I will always find you."

She hadn't had time to tell him what was happening. All thoughts now focused on the menacing figure in front of her.

She reached her had out to him. A feeble attempt to sooth his aching soul. It worked just enough to bye her some time to escape. Running to any available transport of the planet.

The encounter had left her exhausted. His strong emotions taking their toll on her mentality.

She felt terrible stealing from the dead, but a lightsaber would be helpful haven the circumstances. So she grabbed the blade off one of the fallen. Running away with the Saber clutched in her grip.

The grief hanging in the air overwhelming enough to make her stumble.

Soon she found transport off world. Stealing to get the credits she needed for the passage.

Cal reached out to her through their bond once more. Saying he was okay but his master has died. Updating her on where he was and what had happened with the clones.

They decided they needed to suppress their bond as much as possible. And force user, whether light or dark, would sense their connection within a ten foot radius. And right now they needed to stay hidden. Try to survive the nightmare.

Occasionally one would reach out to the other. Soothing eachothers aching souls. Reminding eachother they were still alive.

"I will always find you." The words echoed in her mind like a lullaby. Chasing her into restless sleep.

She had found a home on a the swampy planet of Bogano. The force led her here. The reason currently unknow to her but the force hadn't led her astray yet.

Though somtimes the venomous words of the Jedi coucil screamed at her.

"You will bring chaos."

Had this all been her fault? Had she unknowingly changed Master Skywalkers emotions that day? Played with things she could not understand fully?

Tears stream down her face as she recalls the horrible images of what transpired that night. The lifeless bodies littering the ground. The smell of death lingering in every corridor.

She did her best to conceal those feelings. Spending her days training with her new sword. Repeating the stances of those she'd seen others do while sparing.

And then one day five years later a ship arrived.

The invisible strings attaching her to Cal pulled her in the direction of the craft. His force signature growing nearer with each heavy step she took. Her breath faltering as she sprinted through the muddy terrain.

The force wavered and flowed and her emotions ran high. Raging like and untamed ocean. Powerful and overwhelming.

She slowed as she approached the craft. The door opening to reveal him.

He had grown taller. His hair an unruly red mop. But his green eyes and freckles are exactly the same as she remebered.

Tears sprang from her eyes. His relief flooding over her. Her joy spreading through him.

They ran to eachother. Letting the force pull them together until the were finally embracing each other. Cal's hands press against the back of he head and her lower back, pulling her closer to him.

They bask in the feeling of togetherness. The force flowing around them in a symphony of completion. They were once again joined as they should have been all along.

Cal leans back to look at her. Hands now cupping either side of her face. His eyes study her before leaning down to press her forehead against hers.

"I will always find you."

Please like, share, and reblog!

[tennessoui]

Ahhh congrats on finishing the essay draft! What about 46 for obikin if you are so inclined?

thank you!! it requires massive, massive editing but also i've at least reached the point where i can turn it in and not completely fail (so...1 down, 2 more to go before my semester is finished 🙏)

thank you for the ask from this ask game as well :D

46. "Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

It's a fair assumption, what Obi-Wan is operating off of. Well, a fair assumption and about five hours of genuine deep sleep, spread out over the course of four days. He cannot find his preferred datapaad, and it's a fair assumption that Anakin has taken it. It is, after all, also Anakin's preferred datapaad, though he refuses to admit such a thing.

Oh, droid preferences and--and senator preferences are fine for Anakin, but Obi-Wan's preference for this particular datapaad is something to be scorned and ridiculed. And the datapaad itself--it's something to be pilfered by his former padawan, even though he has a padawan of his own now and really should be setting a better example for her, should be doing something besides stealing from his poor defenseless, sleep-sick and soul-tired master.

But so when Obi-Wan wakes far too early, disoriented from a nightmare he can hardly recall, and looks about his quarters for a moment before determining that he cannot find his padawa--his paad, his datapaad--he decides that he should go retrieve it.

It.

And it's a fair assumption, that his preferred paad is in Anakin's possession. So it's the only logical thing to do, to go to Anakin's quarters, the ones he shares with his own padawan, to retrieve it.

It.

"Anakin, have you seen my...Oh." Obi-Wan blinks at the sight in front of him and then blinks again when the picture refuses to coalesce into an image that makes sense. That would, preferably, undry his mouth and push the rest of his sentence past his lips.

There in the center of his living area, Temple standard furniture pushed haphazardly aside to clear a space, Anakin balances on one hand, feet carefully thrown into the air. Shirtless, abdominal muscles twitching and glistening with sweat. Hair neatly wrapped up in a bun so loose it brushes the ground. Eyes closed and expression peaceful.

Shirtless. Glistening with sweat.

Ahsoka, Obi-Wan realizes far too many seconds later, is there as well, curled up on the couch with a datapaad--his datapaad, in fact--on her lap.

"Good morning, Master," she tells him, looking up at him with a pointy-toothed smile. "We're meditating."

Obi-Wan tells his feet to move further into Anakin's quarters. He also tells himself to look away from the tableau that Anakin makes. Glistening with sweat. Shirtless. Mechno arm held behind his back, broad palm pressed against the floor.

This is not the sort of meditation Obi-Wan taught him. This is not the sort of meditation Obi-Wan can handle right now.

"Right, well," he says, finally managing to rip his eyes away from his former padawan's exposed pectorals. "I need him."

Ahsoka blinks wide, innocent eyes at him, and he feels incredibly, inexplicably paranoid, as if everything he is thinking and feeling can be read upon his face. Perhaps it can.

"Right, well," Ahsoka says, "I tried asking him something fifteen minutes ago, but he didn't respond, so...you're welcome to sit with me until he's done if you'd like."

Obi-Wan isn't sure this is wise, though it's sweet of her to offer. But he hasn't been fighting a war for the better part of two years only to not recognize when it's time to mount a retreat, so he shakes his head and gives her a kind smile.

Then he turns back to Anakin--shirtless, glist--and pins his treacherous eyes on the boy's feet before snapping, "Padawan."

At least this part of the galaxy, the world order, remains intact, because Anakin tumbles down out of his--his pose a second later, landing on the floor in a tangled heap of sweaty, glistening limbs.

No. Better to not think about. Better to retreat now hastily.

Better to blame his reaction to--to Anakin's beauty--on his lack of sleep. At most, perhaps, his lack of discipline.

His--former--padawan blinks wide, disoriented eyes up at him from the floor. "Master, what--?"

Obi-Wan is quick to clear his throat and fix his eyes upon the small window set into the wall above Anakin's head. "Have you seen my datapaad by chance? I seem to have misplaced it."

[ooops-i-arted]

Me watching filoni take another one of luke's lines/moments from the original trilogy yet AGAIN to use for his own characters (mostly ahsoka) while he disrespects luke in his interviews: 😒

like he wants orange oc to be as important as luke skywalker so damn badly, and yet he can't truly have her emotional moments sell without referencing the original trilogy protagonist. the fans eat it up anyways because they never change. rinse and repeat.

I saw on Insta that she says "I won't fight you" to Anakin and I'm like. How. How does the fandom not see Filoni is just blatantly ripping everything off. This is beyond Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme, this is straight up copying, and it's shitty. Luke was HUGELY important to Anakin in the OT. The reason for his redemption. His last memory of Padme, of Obi-Wan, of the Jedi, maybe even Shmi and his step-family. His last chance to try and fix what he broke. Ahsoka is not even a blip on the radar compared to Luke.

Luke: There is no emotion, there is peace. I will not let this upset me. I am all right, I am a Jedi.

Han: I'm not. *blasts Ahsoka out of canon*

[mayxthexforce]

Headcanuary - Day 1

Prompt: Flowers.

Anakin Solo || Han Solo

They share this headcanon because, due to the fact that Leia is very fond of flowers, Han always made sure to teach their kid(s) how to take good care of her plants and also taught them to spot the ones that she likes the most, especially candlewicks due to how rare and difficult to find they became after the destruction of Alderaan. Anakin, who has always struggled with carrying the legacy of The Anakin, the hero of the Republic but also the man who he knew became Darth Vader, also became fond of candlewicks because he knows the way Leia connects them to her mother, and so he feels those connect him to the more peaceful side of his family.

Elodore Vane

Valahari, besides being known for making the fastest ships in the galaxy with the best engines to match, is also known for having some of the most beautiful gardens. One often called the most beautiful is the garden that belongs to the royal family. Because Elodore loves flowers, and because it gave her something to do and —later, after consummating her marriage with Harko— bond over with her son other than royal matters, she works hard in tending to her garden. She has flowers all year round because she's specifically divided the garden in sections of seasonal plants, so that no matter the season, there's always something blooming.

Koska Reeves

Koska doesn't like being gifted flowers. Not because she doesn't like them– actually, she does; but because she doesn't like when planets are ripped out of the ground to be turned into a bouquet, an expensive one at that because some can be really expensive. She thinks it's credits that go to waste on a gift that will shrivel up and die in a week, tops. She'd very much rather be gifted potted plants, but even then she isn't sure she can give them proper care given her hectic life and line of work that sends her to places that only few plants can thrive in.

Leia Organa

Leia's favorite flower is candlewicks. They're a plant native to Alderaan whose flowers have a natural glow to them, and she heavily associates them with her mother because Breha —having had pulmonodes since before Leia was born and often wearing dresses with low necklines as per Alderaan costume— had a visible glow within her chest that Leia believed to be a bouquet of candlewicks. To her, those flowers represent her mother and their bond. Breha knew this and on Leia's birthdays, they would both go to the royal gardens and planted a new candlewick plant.

Luke Skywalker

Lukw is forever baffled by the concept of house plants. Just, the fact that people choose to have and tend to plants that serve no purpose other than looking pretty– and not even all year! it completely blew his mind the first few times he was presented with it. He has a hard time figuring out how much water is enough for a plant, usually ends up overwatering them. But he LOVES making plants grow with the force. He's done that for Leia multiple times.

Maulkiller

Maulkiller is allergic to pollen. Having spent most of his life in a laboratory in Kamino with the closest plant being light years away, he was never exposed to them and so, he's allergic to most flowers due to the pollen. It's not a deadly allergy, but it's not fun.

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan can't keep a plant alive to save his life. Qui-Gon, on the other hand, had one hell of a green thumb. But no matter how hard he tried to get Obi-Wan into the routine of watering, fertilizing, clipping and just overall tending to the plants, it never stuck. Obi-Wan would often forget to water them for weeks at a time and only remember sporadically when he noticed the dirt was looking cracked-dry or the plant would start to shrivel up. He ended up almost killing a couple of Qui-Gon's plants (only didn't because Qui-Gon took over) and he still feels bad about it. But he just, couldn't really make himself care for the plants. After all, he grew up in Coruscant where very few people give a damn about flora.

[palfriendpatine66]

i am 👀looking👀 at tooka and here comes the bride

Thank you for the ask!! Especially about these that I haven’t thought about in a while!!!

Tooka au is a gen fic actually titled Gesi Means Peace. In it young padawan Anakin finds a tooka cat, and he learns an important lesson about letting go. Not so spoiler alert: the cat dies. The fic goes back and forth in time of the memory of Obi-Wan guiding young Anakin through the loss as AotC Anakin discovers his mother in the Tusken camp on Tatooine. Also not so spoiler alert: angsty fic with the right ending. I was halfway though writing this when my cat went missing (RIP) so put it on pause but it might be time to come back to it soon. I’m really, really excited for it.

Here Comes The Groom (I think I typed bride but it’s supposed to be groom) only has one scene written but will be great and fun if it comes back into being. Obi-Wan is the best best man, an expert at weddings for someone who has never been the groom himself. Anakin works with a catering company and gets to know him over many many events. Things heat up at the wedding of a mutual friend - Anakin’s ex, Padme.

[tocourtdisaster]

Clone-centric Star Wars Fic Recs

Includes both Clone Wars and Bad Batch.

Stories marked with * include the clones using Mando'a and/or the clones having adopted Mando culture.

and the Force is with me by sauntering_down | 7.9k | oneshot

Rex, Cut Lawquane, Suu Lawquane

Summary: 

When he opens his eyes, Cut is watching him steadily, fingers still locked around Rex’s wrist. “Interesting mantra,” he says. “Where’d you pick that up?”

Warnings: Graphic description of corpses, panic attacks, PTSD

(Rex deserves to be able to let himself process the fallout of Order 66 and this story lets him have that.)

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by yellow_caballero | 33k | oneshot

Fox, Leia Organa, Sheev Palpatine

Summary:

SUBJECT: Regarding Senate Guard Objectives For Today

This is a polite reminder to all guardsmen that patrol schedules for the Senate vote ratifying dictatorships are posted in the breakroom. I am also issuing a warning to linear time that days should follow sequentially and are not intended to repeat. Please cease repeating. I am getting a headache.

Additionally, I'd like to remind all guardsmen that it is illegal to harbor invisible women in the Senate. If you see a ghost claiming to be Leia Organa, please remove her from the premises. She will be making a scene.

Thank you for your cooperation in preserving the peace of the Republic, and all hail the Empire.

FOX

(Kind of time travel, kind of unstuck in time, both Fox and Leia are in for a not-so-great time)

An Hourglass in Hand by ecarian | 77.5k | multichapter | completed

Cody/Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Ahsoka

Summary:

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Warnings: Temporary character death

(The daemon-AU of my dreams. Cody is wonderfully snarky and there's just something so fun and satisfying about the writing style. I started reading this and couldn't stop.)

The Barking of Birds by Trixree | 1.2k | oneshot

Hound, Fox, Hound the bird

Summary:

When they finally catch up to this latest branch of the illegal exotic animal trade, they do so in a dingy warehouse nestled deep within the Lowers. It’s the cliche of all cliches.

What Hound couldn’t have predicted is the bird.

(Fox gets a foul-mouth parrot. Hound suffers for it.)

the keyring crown by littlekaracan | 39.5k | multichapter

Cody/Obi-Wan, Rex, Fox

Summary:

“You forget I’m not a Jedi.” Cody smiled to him, but even he heard the note of bitterness in his own voice. He was not like Obi-Wan – perhaps his brothers learned these things, but Cody hardly knew where even to begin. Hardly believed the plant, however determined, would last long in his care. “I don’t have the same…” He gestured, a little vaguely, somewhere in Obi-Wan’s direction. “…Growing tricks that you do.”

“There are no Jedi tricks involved in that sort of thing,” Obi-Wan said, voice well and truly soft now as his gaze rose from his mug to Cody. “It is not the cosmos which cultivates, at least for the most part.” He reached, gently, to close his fingers over Cody’s which were still wrapped around his mug. “It’s just your hands and your dedication.” He leaned in just a little bit, watching him - close and quiet. “And I know, darling, just how dedicated you can be.”

Warning: Panic attacks, aftermath of mind control

(The war is over and Cody is learning to live in the aftermath.)

*Art of War by Moxibustion (RyuuzaKochou) | 72.8k | multichapter

Echo, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Rex, Fox (Fives in absentia)

Summary:

Echo had never had any particular talents. He'd never sought to be special, never tried to break the mould. He'd never aspired to be anything more than a clockwork soldier, watching his far more brilliant brothers rise up above him. He'd never expected to wake up one day and find out that he was, in fact, the last of them.

Funny old galaxy, really.

Now he was in the Bad Batch and one thing he was rapidly beginning to understand is this: in a galaxy filled with combat engineers, the Bad Batch are artists. Echo had never really known much about art. At least... that's what he'd always thought. New body, new squad - maybe it was time to look at things in a whole new way.

A story about art, war, coping, hanging on, letting go, restoration, reforging, plotting in a brig, military intelligence isn't, Wrecker's diplomacy doesn't, cooking, the thin line between genius and madness, starting over, struggling with loss, team bonding, art therapy, guerilla knitting therapy, big boom therapy, shaking down shinies for fun and profit, guilt, rage, forgiveness, waging war by fitting in…

... and making your peace with standing out.

Warnings: Injury recovery, grief and mourning, PTSD

(Echo finds his place in the Bad Batch and comes to terms with never being able to go back to who he used to be.)

*their days are darker by always_a_slut_for_hc | 23.4k | multichapter

Wolffe, Fox, Cody, Bly

Summary:

After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done.

He is very, very wrong.

Warnings: Dehumanization, gaslighting

(The other Commanders finally learn what the Corries have been going through and it's not pretty.)

Dielectric Breakdown by Jessepinwheel | 65.4k | multichapter

Cody, Rex, Fox, Echo, Obi-Wan

Summary:

Cody had always believed the best of his General--strong, steadfast, and loyal. That is, until Obi-Wan suddenly assassinated the Supreme Chancellor and vanished without a trace, leaving the Republic scrambling in the fallout.

Five years later, Cody is still trying to pick up the pieces and understand why Obi-Wan betrayed them all.

(Cody doesn't know why the war ended the way it did and he can't let it go, despite the objections of his brothers.)

*Love Each Other With Abandon by Elthadriel | 25k | oneshot

Cody, Rex, Fox, Wolffe, Obi-Wan

Summary:

Cody tries to navigate his way through what might be the most awkward crush he could possibly have developed. Fortunately, his brothers are there to provide emotional support

Or, at the very least, provide amused commentary.

(The sibling dynamics in this story are perfect.)

*The Legend of Liob by Killbothtwins | 19k | oneshot

Cody, Waxer, Boil, Obi-Wan

Summary: 

The Republic sends a combat photographer to be attached to the 212th until further notice, citing the need for a morale boost. The clones make up a fake clone, citing the absolute fact that it is very funny.

Somehow, these two things save the galaxy.

(Or show a fake clone brings down a Sith Lord.)

*sunshine and the shade of poetry by Petrichor (Mythmaker) | 33.2k | multichapter

Cody, Rex, Wolffe, Bly, Obi-Wan

Summary:

"Sorry sir, but I don't think we've met," Cody said, turning up the friendly customer service representative levels by two points.

To his delight, there wasn't really any visible change in his general's expression. "Have I neglected to leave an impression on you over the last several years?"

"I'm not sure you want an honest answer to that question, sir."

=====

The war comes to an abrupt end, and everyone around him begins the long road to recovery and discovery. Cody, on the other hand, just needs to find a new job.

Unfortunately, he has no idea what to do next.

(Cody's just trying to get by, convinced that he doesn't need or want a higher calling. He's disabused of this notion.)