#somehow it all comes down on the jedi alone

[antianakin]

Well, for one, this post asked for bad Anakin Skywalker takes, not bad Jedi takes. This entire thread started because I had to see a bad Jedi take, so thanks for this, this is totally helping my fandom experience right now.

This is an EXHAUSTING conversation to have to keep having over and over again. I've definitely addressed it before, as have a few other people within the anti-Jedi community on Tumblr, but fine. Let's go through it again.

Generally when this topic comes up, there's a few follow-up questions it's helpful to try to answer.

If the Jedi refused to lead the clones from a moral standpoint, what is the alternative for the clones now, and is it better or worse for them in the long run?

Were the clones INTENDED to be seen as slaves or (also) closer to a draft and the writing of their situation is just done very messily and in a way that's very uncomfortable due to how close it seems to slavery? Follow-up to that, if it's uncomfortably close to slavery, perhaps this is where we discuss how close a draft is to slavery which brings up some interesting discussions about the Jedi having also been drafted and how much power the Jedi truly have in this situation.

Let's start with the first one because it's honestly just easier.

So the scenario is that the Jedi choose to refuse to fight in the war at all (because presumably fighting WITH the slave army is equally as bad as LEADING the slave army so long as we do not see the Jedi as slaves themselves because it still means they're supporting the use of the slave army). What becomes of the clones? Well, they still have to fight the war. The Jedi refusing to fight won't save the clones from that. But who will lead them now?

If your answer is "a bunch of fascist pricks who are probably in Palpatine's pocket," you'd be right! It'll just be a lot more people like Tarkin or Yularen.

How does this change the clones' experience? It means there's no longer a superior officer with heightened reflexes and instincts on the ground with them anymore, standing in front of them and blocking fire so that more men can survive. It means there's no longer a superior officer whose primary priority is going to be to preserve as much life as possible and will choose to surrender a fight to save more clones rather than push forward to victory regardless of the cost. It means there's no longer a superior officer whose teachings and morals allow them to inspire and encourage individuality amongst the clones, so it's entirely possible that all of those beautiful armor designs and different hair styles wouldn't even happen if the Jedi weren't leading them.

So I'm going to say that it's entirely canon that the Jedi leading the clones makes life better for them overall. If the Jedi refused their draft entirely the way you argue they should've on moral grounds, it leaves the clones in a way worse place overall. We can probably assume the Jedi are least SOMEWHAT aware of this, which means they're left with the choice of choosing to go along with the draft to do what they can for the clones even if it goes against their own morals, or they dodge the draft to try to adhere to their morals and ultimately leave the clones to fend for themselves against people less capable of protecting them and less willing to care for them. Which, once you look at it that way, sounds pretty selfish doesn't it? It's kind-of a lose/lose situation for the Jedi where they're damned if they do (support the slave army) and damned if they don't (abandoning people they could help for the sake of their own well-being).

The argument from the anti-Jedi crowd on this always seems to be just "well they shouldn't have done it" and never seems to actually address what the Jedi should've done INSTEAD. And I imagine that this is because the options there are pretty slim on the ground. "Dodge the draft!" Cool, how does this help the slaves you're so worried about? What does this allow the Jedi to actually DO to help the clones instead? Is this actually making life BETTER for the clones overall or is it actually making life WORSE? "The Jedi took down the Zyggerian slave empire in canon!" Yes, with the support of the Republic we must assume. Something they will NOT have in this case if they try to free the clones. So now we're just heading into "the Jedi should've destroyed the Republic themselves because it was basically a lost cause" and oh whoops now we're just saying Dooku was right and look at where that led.

I recognize that you say above you don't really give a damn about how kind the Jedi were to the clones and that it doesn't matter to you at all, so this was all probably a huge waste of time on my part, but it DOES matter to me on this topic and, I'd argue, it seems to matter in canon to the clones.

So that's the Watsonian analysis I have. In universe, the Jedi are faced with a nearly impossible lose/lose situation and they choose what is arguably the lesser of two evils by putting themselves in the position to actually do some good for the clones and save as many as they can.

Now let's hit that second point and dive a little deeper into a more Doylist analysis. Does the writing support the interpretation of the clones as slaves or is it just really badly written in the most uncomfortable way possible?

Now, this is where I will readily admit that the writing sucks, it's definitely racist, and I don't support the way they've chosen to depict the clones and their situation. But this is also where I will point out that there is a major difference between "the writing of the clones isn't done well and it has some perhaps unintended implications about the Jedi that the writers never meant to come across that way" and "the Jedi are intended to be viewed as slave owners and I am going to critique them based on that." Because I don't personally believe the second one and land way more in the realm of the first.

To begin with, I don't think that Lucas intended to write the clones as fully sentient beings. The dialogue we hear in Attack of the Clones about it when the Kaminoans are talking to Obi-Wan about them seems to imply more that the clones are sort-of sub-sentient, somewhere between a droid's programming and full sentience. What the fuck that means is anyone's guess, we're definitely in space magic bullshit territory here. But the implication IS THERE that the clones are perhaps not actually entirely sentient. So the reason that Cody seems perfectly friendly with Obi-Wan one moment and then immediately happy to shoot him down the next moment isn't because he's been mind controlled, but because he's just... not entirely sentient and he's just going to do as ordered, whether that means being loyal to the Jedi or killing them all. It's left a little unclear within the films, but that's the implication I got based on that dialogue from Attack of the Clones.

Which means that when TCW decided to make them fully sentient and sort-of change the narrative there, it's faced with a few difficulties. It's one thing to have an army of droids, or human-like men who are perhaps not fully sentient anyway. Can they truly be slaves if they aren't really sentient? Star Wars obviously faces this same question about the droids themselves, and the general consensus is that absolutely nobody intended the droids to come off like slaves because this would make Luke and Leia slave owners and that seems like a really obviously wrong interpretation doesn't it? Star Wars is by no means advocating for slavery by making two of its primary heroes droid owners. Subsequently, we can make the same argument here. Star Wars is not advocating for slavery by making the obvious good guys slave owners via leading the clones. That is not and never has been the message of the prequels, part of which is helped by making the clones less than human.

This is where the godawful racist writing bit comes in, obviously, and like I said earlier, I'm not denying any of that. It's absolutely fuck off racist to have written the clones this way, especially given who they chose to cast in the role. But if we choose to believe that Lucas was NOT intending the Jedi to be seen as slave owners in the prequels just because they led the clones in war, then it follows that the clones are NOT intended to be seen as slaves.

And this continues in The Clone Wars, despite the fact that the clones are now fully sentient. Granted, this is ALSO a really uncomfortable writing choice because while we could sort-of write off the fact that the clones weren't fully sentient and so the morals behind using them as an army is kind-of gray and nebulous, once the clones BECOME fully sentient, you lose that argument. You definitely do. And once again, I'm not denying that this was an absolutely terrible writing choice to have made given that they don't address it enough within the show to really dig into the morals behind it. Because all of the other characters still sort-of act like the clones are somewhere between droid and sentient in terms of them being in an army.

I will point out here that the ONLY characters who we see regularly advocate for the clones are the Jedi. So from a more Doylist standpoint, even if we are intended to see the clones as slaves (which I'm not convinced of), the Jedi are the only ones who we see doing a damn thing about that at all and arguing back about the clones' rights. Shaak Ti has an entire line where she tells Lama Su that the clones are people, not objects and fights for the Domino Squad to not just be "cast off." She practically bends over backwards to help Tup and Fives as much as she can.

And yes, the Jedi accept the explanation they're given about the "aggression inhibitor" chips, but we also see the Jedi actively looking into the creation of the clones and they discover that the clones are a literal Sith trap for them (even if they don't know how). When they don't have any further information to go on, they end up deciding that the clones are sentient people who have earned their trust. You could condemn that choice, obviously, call them idiots for not looking further or not assuming mind control I guess. But the Jedi ARE looking into things canonically, and when offered the choice between abandoning the clones for their own self preservation and trusting the clones enough to keep working with them, they choose to trust the clones. I'd argue the bigger issue here is not "The Jedi chose to ignore the chips that are a human rights issue regardless of whether they're mind control chips or not" but that the Jedi are now canonically given WAY too much information, making it seem a little silly that they don't connect things together that seem fairly obvious. Narratively, they obviously are incapable of connecting things completely since they need to be caught by surprise and all killed in Order 66. But once they know a chip EXISTS that had at least SOMETHING to do with a clone murdering a Jedi and then find out the clones are a Sith trap, it stops being quite as understandable that they didn't put those pieces together and look further into the chip issue.

Regardless, the reason they accept the "aggression inhibitor" explanation and don't look further is because the narrative prevents them from doing so. They CAN'T look further into the issue because they'd inevitably figure everything out and then the story doesn't happen. They're literally just prevented by the writing from doing the thing you want them to do. That's not the writers intending to make the Jedi out to be cruel and uncaring, it's just the writers of this show being kind-of stupid about how much information they're giving the Jedi and how unrealistic it is that they DON'T look into it more.

All of that tells me that even if we as the audience are expected to interpret the clones as slaves, we're NOT expected to interpret the Jedi as slave owners who should be condemned for their treatment of the clones.

Which brings us to Slick. Yes, Slick explicitly calls them slaves and condemns the Jedi for it. But do you recall what ELSE Slick does in that episode? He teams up with Asajj Ventress (someone who you could argue DOES enslave people quite a lot by virtue of being a Sith working for the Separatists) to help MURDER a bunch of his own brothers for money. So by no means does the narrative present Slick as a reliable source of information. He's a traitor who is basically in this for himself and that's it. He tries to excuse his actions with some grandiose cause, but Rex and Cody themselves see right through it. Neither of them seems to agree with Slick and they're both far more reliable and trustworthy characters. If we were meant to know that Slick was right, we'd have heard Rex and Cody say something similar to back it up, and we don't.

The best parallel to make here is to Anakin's comments about the Jedi in Revenge of the Sith. Anakin says he should've known the Jedi were plotting to take over and that from his perspective the Jedi were evil. We have literally watched the Jedi trying to arrest Palpatine because HE'S plotting to take over, so we know Anakin's LYING. Anakin says he's brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to his new Empire, but we've seen what the Empire does, we saw how Anakin just murderred children, so we know that Anakin's LYING. Anakin is making excuses for his own atrocities to justify them to both himself and Obi-Wan (and Padme).

Slick's comments about the Jedi enslaving the clones aren't intended to be taken as true. He's just betrayed EVERYBODY and caused the deaths of hundreds of clones because Ventress (a Sith who works with the Separatists who we know are ACTUAL enslavers of innocent Republic civlians) promised him money in return. He's making up excuses for his actions to justify them both to himself and to the people around him (Anakin, Obi-Wan, Rex, and Cody). And you'll notice that nobody in that scene is buying what he's selling. This is why this comment really never has any follow-through, they never discuss the clones as slaves in any other episode really, even when it would make sense to do so (like Umbara or Zyggeria). You as the audience are supposed to just automatically recognize that Slick is LYING, so there's no real follow-up needed to this acccusation.

The problem here is predominantly that the change to the clones' level of sentience leads to them feeling a LOT more like literal slaves, so Slick's accusation doesn't seem as obviously inaccurate as Anakin's accusations do. In fact, it starts to ring as entirely true because, well, I don't know what ELSE you'd call sentient human beings who are considered products (something we know the Kaminoans call them, even though the Jedi themselves disagree). And this is an issue I am placing squarely at the feet of the writers for not recognizing. There is no way a more adult audience isn't going to hear Slick call the clones slaves and think that that's a lie when everything we're seeing says it's true. That's an issue, and I'll never deny that it isn't. But I still don't think that it's what was INTENDED to be understood by this scene.

The final piece of evidence I'll use to back that argument up is Cut Lawquane. The episode he shows up in is called "The Deserter." Not "The Escapee" or "The Runaway" or "The Freedman" or anything that might bring to mind slavery, but "Deserter" which is a lot more indicative of a DRAFT. Cut himself does condemn the Republic and some of the ways the clones were treated in general, but as I recall, Cut has exactly nothing negative to say about the Jedi specifically nor does he ever really refer to the clones as slaves. All of which tells me that the clones were being used as a metaphor for a DRAFT, but the writing was done so clumsily that what they ended up writing instead was a slave army. And that now comes with a ton of really unfortunate implications that are never addressed because the writers didn't recognize it enough to address it.

The point of the narrative is not to condemn the Jedi, it never has been. The Jedi are placed in an impossible situation with nothing but lose/lose options of evil and lesser evil. Who are we to condemn them for doing the best they can to keep choosing a lesser evil? Condemning them for being forced to make an impossible choice IS propaganda because that's literally what Palpatine intends to do by putting them in that situation to begin with. If the Jedi had refused to fight, refused to lead the clones, I imagine people who hate the Jedi both in universe and in fandom would be calling them cowards who abandoned their responsibility to the galaxy, selfish elitists who prioritized their own morals over people's lives. They can't win. And that's the whole fucking point. That's the tragedy of the prequels. The Jedi can't win, it doesn't MATTER what they choose to do or not do, they'll always lose. And if you missed that, you might have missed the entire point of the narrative.

I'm in the mood for bad faith Anakin Skywalker takes today, so if you have any of those to share, please do!

[starlazergazer]

Separated

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: You could do a story where the reader and Anakin had something, but the order tried everything to separate them, and so Anakin wasn't there when she ended up dying. That will be the trigger for him to start doubting the order, and hating them, but it turns out that a reader from another universe, who is exactly the same as his, just shows up.

Warning: Angst! Almost character death, lots of swearing tbh my bad

Word Count: 7k

A/N: Changed the request just a bit hope that’s okay but obsessed with the overall premise! I’m thinking she needs a part 2 but let me know what y’all think!

There was something uniquely terrifying about a silent Anakin Skywalker.

Everyone knew the jedi had a temper, it wasn’t something he was necessarily subtle about, there were few who had been at one time or another on the other end of it, you included.

But Anakin’s temper always exposed itself in the same way. Yelling, pacing, ranting. There were a number of times you had sat down before him waiting for him to get his lecture out of the way, letting him explode like a volcano before being able to actually have a constructive conversation with him.

You honestly couldn’t think of the last time you had seen him as he was now. Quiet, still, contemplative.

Admittedly there was a part of you that wanted to poke the bear, to say something that you knew would make him explode, force him back into charted territory so you knew how to deal with the fallout.

“I just don’t see the big deal”

Still nothing, a harsh glare boring down on you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so harshly you could see the muscle through his skin, not a word.

“You do stuff like that all the time”

Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he took measured, deep breaths.

You were returning home a hero, the entire hanger had cheered for you the moment you touched down, a hoard of people circling you with congratulatory hugs the second your foot touched solid ground, and still somehow Anakin had the power to make you feel like you’d failed.

This was supposed to be your moment and still somehow Anakin controlled the temperature in the room.

“I told you to turn back”

You’d stopped expecting him to speak, so thrown off by the sudden change you physically jumped at the sound of his voice, at how unexpectedly quiet it was.

“That was the wrong call and you know it”

Anakin took a deep breath at your response, his gaze cutting suddenly to the left, a moment passing as he collected himself before responding, that act alone almost making you faulter.

“If it was the wrong call I wouldn’t have made it. I told you to turn back”

“And you aren’t my reporting officer”

“This isn’t a game Y/N!”

The sudden explosion from the man would have surprised you if you hadn’t been unconsciously waiting for it, coiled like a spring waiting for Anakin to snap, waiting for him to yell, a weird weight lifting off your chest as you returned to normalcy.

“I know this isn’t a game do you?” You shot back quickly, just as loudly “He had coordinates, locations of nearly every battalion in the galaxy, information like that isn’t simply a pawn you can choose to trade away”

“Neither are you”

The response came too quickly, too quietly, too seriously for you to fully comprehend the words as he said them, your body physically recoiling at the sudden drop in temperature.

“I was fine”

“You were within firing range” he argued back, his hands coming down to rest on his hips as he glared at you “an entire separatist fleet was on the other side of that moon waiting for him to drag whatever republic ships he could towards them so they could shoot it down and you fell right into that trap”

“I didn’t have a choice”

“You had multiple” he shut you down without ever raising his voice, a single glare enough to silence you “listening to me for one of them”

“And if you had been in my shoes” you prompted “if you had been close enough to chase him would you have simply let him get away?”

“I would have-“ you scoffed before he could get the words out, seeing exactly where he was going before he got there.

“don’t lie to me Anakin Skywalker you treat risking your life as if it were a paying job”

You watched his jaw tick at your response, his words dying on his lips before he changed routs “I told you to turn back”

You let a humorless laugh bubble out of you, a frustrated hand raking across your face as you shook your head “I can’t believe you’re being so blatantly hypocritical right now”

“It’s different” his words came out so quick he seemed almost surprised to hear them himself.

“How?” you demanded more than asked, silently daring him to give you a legitimate answer you weren’t sure he could supply.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off before he could finish, a huff escaping before he took a deep breath and continued “I need you to listen to me. When I tell you what to do I need you to listen to me”

“Even if-“

“yes” he cut you off before you could get your question off “whatever context, whatever quantifiers I don’t care. Out there I need you to listen to me”

Again his tone was throwing you for a loop. Gone was the anger, the frustration, the ire. Now he seemed to be almost begging, pleading with you to listen to him, to agree, to promise something like today wouldn’t happen again.

But you had made the right call. That was what was sticking with you. You know what you did was risky, hell you could get behind even calling it a little reckless, but objectively it was the right call. You were talking about locations of every troop of clones in the republic in the hands of the separatist’s how could he not see that this was worth anything, that taking down this spy was worth everything.

“Ani what-“

“There you two are” a new voice interrupted you, the sudden appearance of Obi-wan pulling you back to the present moment, reminding you that you and Anakin were in the jedi temple, that you had just come back from a mission, that you still had duties to uphold.

“Master Kenobi” you quickly greeted the man with a small bow, watching the man you had practically grown up under break out into a proud grin as he clapped you on the shoulder.

“That was a great shot Y/N” he praised you shaking you softly “you saved the Republic today I hope you know that”

And though you could feel your chest warm with the praise you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge because of it, not missing Anakin’s small scoff at Obi-wan’s words.

Anakin was your best friend, a man you grew up beside as a padawan, a man you had been practice dueling since you could hold a saber, and you had just pulled off a major victory for the Republic. Was it really too much to ask that your friend take just a second to be proud of you.

“Thank you master” you responded warmly nonetheless nodding at him “believe me when I say it wasn’t easy”

The older man laughed warmly at your words, dropping his hand from your shoulder as he did “that I don’t doubt but believe me when I say we are all glad your maneuver paid off, what you pulled was risky”

You shot a guilty glance at Anakin only to see the man casting his gaze at the floor, arms snaked back around his chest physically distancing himself from the two of you in this moment.

“Anyways what I came here to say is that the council is looking for the two of you” Obi-wan continued on, either choosing to ignore or missing the tension hanging in the air between you and Anakin “you need to debrief before you’re free for the evening.”

“Of course master” you answered for the two of you “we will be right there”

Obi-wan gave you an appreciative nod before taking his leave, casting a questioning glance at his former padawan before exiting the room, casting you and Anakin in a thick silence you were tentative to break.

“Ani-“ you tried but he cut you off.

“Look we’ll talk later” he muttered over his shoulder, already making his way out of the room “we shouldn’t keep them waiting”

-

You could never feel comfortable in the jedi council room, something you were sure was done by design as you and Anakin were forced into the middle of the room, made the literal center of attention.

Even as you knew you were here to receive praise for your actions you couldn’t help but shrink beneath Mace Windu’s gaze.

“-you exemplified what it means to be a jedi knight perfectly today jedi Y/L/N” Master Windu droned on, his voice thankfully lacking the usual edge it had when addressing you with Anakin in the room “we thank you for your actions today”

“I was just doing my job” you responded humbly as you were expected to with a respectful nod “but I am glad to have been of help”

“Of great help you were” Master Kloon chimed in pulling your attention to him as he spoke “the republic owes you a great debt today”

You smiled politely at Mater Kloon, gaze again being drawn across the room as Master Fisto picked up where Kloon left off, a part of you wondering if they did this on purpose to disorient you “we do however have one question regarding this situation. Jedi Skywalker you tried to order Jedi Y/L/N back”

“I did” Anakin’s response was quick with an edge to his voice that had you mentally sighing, you weren’t eager to witness Anakin go up against the council today. “The spy’s ship had reached firing range of the rest of the battalion anyone who followed him was likely to be shot before they could reach”

“Called her back before she reached firing range you did” Master Yoda spoke this time, eyes planted solely on Anakin as he spoke

“She was far back from the spy’s ship, by the time she reached him they would both be within firing range” Anakin countered through gritted teeth, you watched him ball his fists at his sides from the corner of your eye.

“That ultimately however proved not to be the case as she was able to take down the spy without any harm coming to her own fighter” Mace Windu spoke carefully, clearly organizing a path down which he planned to steer this conversation.

A tense silence passed for a moment, a staring contest passing between the Jedi master and the general before Anakin spoke “a miscalculation on my part then”

“It’s a good thing she ignored your miscalculation then” Master Windu offered dryly “we do however have access to the flight com logs. Would you like to explain jedi Skywalker why you ordered jedi Y/L/N not once but five times to turn back”

“Her pursuing as she did was a risk I wasn’t willing to make at the time master”

“Even when aware of the information that ship contained” Master Windu prompted with a raised brow “every troop location of the Republics army. Are you saying you weren’t wiling to risk the life of one jedi for the fate of this war Jedi Skywalker?”

“I don’t trade in lives Master” Anakin challenged back quickly.

“One life versus the lives of billions across the galaxy the math should be easy Jedi”

“we’re here to be Jedi knights not martyrs”

“And it is your duty as jedi knights to do whatever it takes to protect the republic as Jedi Y/L/N did”

“And if she had failed? If the inevitable had happened and she was fired upon the second she came within distance? What good would a dead Jedi knight have done anyone” Anakin was seething at this point, the familiar white hot anger you had expected to be directed at you earlier finally making its appearance.

“We can stop pretending this is about just any Jedi Knight” Mace Windu’s words had Anakin physically recoiling, effectively throwing him off course having the two of you furrowing your brows “there is a reason the jedi code forbids attachments”

“Master we haven’t formed an attachment” you took this as your chance to chime in, keeping your voice light trying to dispel any lingering tension in the air.

Master Windu’s eyes took a second too long to break from Anakin’s to meet yours, a knowing silence permeating the air as if he meant to let your comment hang in it “what happened today, any possibility of letting that spy go, cannot happen again”

You furrowed your brow at his vague response, eyes snapping back to master Yoda as he spoke up.

“not a punishment this is” he chimed in softly, looking directly at you as he did so “remember that you must”

Your eyes snapped back to Master Windu “master what are you saying?”

Mace Windu’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and Anakin for a moment before landing on the latter, another small silence stretching before he spoke “Jedi Skywalker and Y/L/N going forward are forbidden from going on missions together”

A stunned silence fell over you and Anakin, your eyes casting immediately to him only to see his disbelieving gaze locked on Mace Windu “Master you can’t-“ gone was all edge in Anakin’s tone, an almost pleading one taking its place as he tried to talk.

“The council’s decision on this is final” Master Windu cut Anakin off with a single raised hand.

“but-“

“You are dismissed jedi” The doors to the council room opened behind you before Anakin could get out any more than a word. Master Windu leaving no room for either of you to plead your case.

Numbly you left the room with Anakin in tow, your brain still struggling to wrap itself around what had just occurred as you entered the hallway and stopped against the wall, Anakin not missing a beat as he started to pace back and forth in front of you.

“You have to tell me where you’re going next I’ll see if I can at least be close” he was already talking a mile a minute, almost mumbling as if talking to himself rather than you.

“I can’t even remember the last mission I did without you” you mused quietly.

“Under no circumstances can you go alone either take Obi-wan or I’ll give you Rex”

“I can’t believe the council thinks we need to be separated”

“And call me every day even if it’s just to check in”

“Ani you know I can handle myself right” Your sudden direct address of him brought Anakin’s attention back to you, his pacing halting as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“After today?” He laughed bitterly in response.

“I came back today” you countered defensively, at this point beyond tired of this same argument “not a scratch on my ship I am alive and well”

“And you almost weren’t” finally Anakin exploded on you, vein popping in his neck as he yelled, a frustrated hand tangling itself in his hair as his pacing picked up once again “you got lucky. That’s it. What you did was dangerous, it was stupid, it was risky, and it only paid off because you got lucky and I feel like I’m going insane because how can no one see that? You are only here right now because you got lucky and there is no guarantee on that a second time”

“Or I’m a good pilot” you shot back angrily “I’m a good pilot and a good jedi who trusted her instincts and accomplished the goal. Is it really that hard for you to trust in my ability?”

Anakin physically deflated at your words, the full meaning of his own hitting him for the first time as he crumpled slightly “Y/N I didn’t mean-”

“No that’s just what you said” you cut him off “I get it you think I can’t handle myself and shouldn’t be trusted. I’m not sure why you’d want to be sent out on missions with me anyways”

“Y/N please” Anakin begged softly but you had had enough, cutting him off with a shake of your head and a sigh.

“No Ani I’m done with whatever is happening right now. It’s been a long day and I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, taking a second to take a deep breath before turning on your heel leaving Anakin behind as you made your way back to your room, calling softly over your shoulder “I’m done”

-

You knew who was behind your door before he had even knocked. Could feel him lurking behind it. Afterall who else would be at your room this late at night.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, Anakin just showing up at your room. Sometimes it was to apologize, sometimes it was because he had a nightmare, sometimes it was because he could sense yours. It didn’t matter really because he knew no matter what he was always welcome here, you made sure of that.

It was why he wasn’t surprised when you opened the door before he could officially make himself known. The two of you looking silently at one another before Anakin wordlessly engulfed you in a hug.

You went willingly, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around you, not even bothering to exit the doorway as the two of you stood there and took a second to appreciate the feeling of being supported by the other person.

“You scared me today” the words were mumbled into your hair.

“It was a risk I had to take” you responded softly into his chest, his arms tightening around you at your words.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off, readjusting slightly to tuck your head under his chin before he spoke again “I don’t like it when you do that”

“And you think I like it when you do” you responded with a laugh, pulling back slightly to look up at him, Anakin reluctantly letting his grasp of you go as you did so.

“I know I just-“ he sighed “I’m sorry Y/N”

“I know Ani”

Finally a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, a moment passing where neither of you said a thing simply enjoying the moment in each others presence before Anakin broke it “I mean it when I say I trust you just please, promise me you’ll be careful”

You smiled softly up at your friend, extending a pinky out to him “I promise Ani”

He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours, neither of you able in this moment to recognizing your lie for what it was.

-

He almost hadn’t answered.

That was the thought that ruminated in his head for weeks after.

You had called, it wasn’t your normal time to talk, and Anakin had almost ignored it, almost told himself he would call you back later.

Thank the maker he was never good at ignoring you.

Your face came up immediately on his hollow display, picture posed strategically to only show your shoulders and above. And even though a smile graced your lips the second he picked up Anakin could still feel it the moment he saw you. Like a punch to the gut, it suddenly hit him that something was wrong. Something was catastrophically wrong. How had he not sensed it earlier?

“Where are you?”

You had just chuckled weakly in response and any other time Anakin lived for that sound but not now, right now he needed you to answer “there’s nothing getting past you is there Ani”

“You were sent to the outer rim right” Anakin steam rolled ahead, grabbing his cloak already intending to hijack the next available ship. He didn’t care if Mace Windu himself was scheduled to be on it.

“That was two missions ago”

Your words halted him in place, Anakin freezing on the spot as he glared back at you, “Y/N”

“Anakin” Maker how could you tease him like this now? You were always stubborn and he loved that about you but right now was not the time to play with his emotions, not with all this at stake.

“I’ll go ask Obi-wan” he was talking more to himself than you at this point, mind whirling with every possible path forward.

He heard you sigh from the communicator but didn’t pay it too much mind, you could yell at him for it later, he would give anything to hear you yell at him later.

“It’s a direct shot to my abdomen” You sucked in a deep breath, gaze dropping to your torso with a grimace, looking at something Anakin couldn’t see “losing blood like this there’s no way you make it in time”

“You don’t know that” he was arguing back before he could properly process your words, his brain refusing to even allow for that possibility.

“I do Ani” you shot him a sad smile, bleeding out, in who knows where and still you were comforting him.

“No there’s got to be someone nearby, another jedi, a local, someone who can help” He was shaking his head, brain desperately clinging to any solution it could.

“I didn’t call you so you could try and solve my problems”

“So why did you call me then?” He knew he wasn’t mad at you, he knew you would know that to, but still he cringed at the way it slipped out, at the way you shoulders slumped slightly at his words.

“Do I ever need a reason to talk to you?”

And he realized then this was you asking for the only help he could give. He was planets away with no ability to reach you and you were asking not to be alone at the end. And even though it killed him he could never say no to you.

“Of course you don’t Y/N”

You smiled at that. A real smile, no undercurrent of pain or pity. Anakin found himself trying desperately to commit to the sight to memory.

“Remember when the council separated us because they thought we had formed an attachment?” You asked softly, head resting back against the wall behind you, your entire body rising and falling with each labored breath.

“Right now it’s hard to forget” he bit down the resentment, it wasn’t what you deserved.

Still you chuckled at him, wincing slightly as you did so “I think right now I have to admit they were onto something”

“I thought that was obvious when I tried to put the entire republic army at risk so that you would be safe”

A teasing roll of your eyes, a fond chuckle “shut up stupid I’m trying to have a moment here”

“I’m sorry please go ahead with your moment” a part of him resented how easy the banter came now, how easy it always came with you, it wasn’t fair.

“You’re my person Anakin” you practically whispered the words, Anakin’s heart swelling painfully in his chest at them “At the end of the day I will always choose you and for the first time I’m not going to condemn myself for thinking it”

“You picked a hell of a time for that revelation sweetheart” the pet name came naturally, he nearly choked on it as it fell from his lips.

You laughed in response, shifting positions with a grunt “Master Kloon did always tell me I needed to work on my timing”

Anakin chimed in before a silence could fully settle over the two of you, “Though I’m sure it’s obvious I will always choose you too Y/N” he took a small amount of pride in the soft smile that grew on your lips at his words.

“So what do you say after the war we leave the order?” You propositioned with a cheesy grin “You and me Skywalker”

It hurt how easily the answer came to him “where would we go?”

“I’ve always liked Naboo” How quickly your answer came made him wonder if like him this wasn’t the first time you had considered this exact scenario.

“I could get a job working on speeders” He proposed with a sad smile.

“I think I’d work at a cantina” you mused back “always thought it would be fun to get to meet people from all over the galaxy”

“It would be a good life” he could feel the truth of those words in his very bones.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, both lost in thoughts of what if, before you broke it “Thank you Ani”

“Don’t thank me” he protested weakly “not for this”

“Then for everything else”

Another short silence, a quiet plea slipping unbidden from Anakin “please don’t” he knew where you were going next.

“I have to” you answered softly, solemnly “I think it’s time to say goodbye”

“You don’t have to hang up” he protested “not yet”

“I don’t want you to see me like that” And again he was never one to refuse you anything, a final request he couldn’t say no to. “I love you Ani”

Maker how could hearing those words somehow hurt worse than not hearing them ever did.

“I love you Y/N”

A single tear slipped down your cheek and then you were gone. The newfound silence of the room suffocating him as the emptiness in his chest leached out to fill the space in the room around him.

-

The republic has fallen.

The jedi are no more.

The empire reigns in its place.

Anakin Skywalker is dead.

There was a lot you were told upon waking up from your medically induced coma that was hard to believe. A lot of news that was broken to you that was difficult to swallow. The fact that your entire life fell apart in the mere two weeks you were in a bacta tank was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be able to come to terms with.

Being with the rebellion helped, to know that despite everything there was still a group of people out there who were willing to put everything on the line for what was right. To a certain extent it felt like being home. It helped you learn to come to terms with those four impossible facts.

So now how were you supposed to deal with learning that one of those facts was actually a lie.

You had seen the trepidation on their faces when you walked into the room, the way the entire groups focus was on you the second you stepped in, it almost felt like being back before the council, you would’ve laughed if they hadn’t seemed so somber.

Now you understand why.

As soon as the words left Mon Mothma’s mouth you felt the ground buckle beneath your feet, felt the world around you start to drown out, felt your legs threaten to give out from beneath you.

You would’ve given anything to hear those words just weeks ago, would’ve wept at the thought of being where you were now, but to hear them so shortly after you had tried to heal the wound was nothing but another devastating blow.

“You told me he was dead”

The group shared nervous looks and your every doubt about the rebellion came rushing to the surface. They were no different than the council at it’s worst, wiling to do anything to separate the two of you, willing to lie to make sure you stayed under their thumb, willing to keep things from you because they believed they knew better. Why did it always feel like you were working for the wrong side?

“We believed he was”

“Bullshit” the word slipped from your lips before your gaze could even meet the speaker’s, anger flaring from your chest at the words “a fact like that, as large of that, there had to be rumors, you had to have guessed”

“We didn’t want to get your hopes up”

A bitter laugh rose to the surface, hands coming to your hair in exasperation “I was told the very republic I gave my life for had fallen, that the very group I was fighting against are now in control, and everyone I had ever known dead at the very hands of the people I had sworn to lead and you didn’t think I could’ve used a little hope?”

“We thought-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” you countered before they could finish, eyes daring the group to say something “maker how can you not see that it was this very hubris that led to the fall of the jedi? Of the republic? Just because you think you know better-“

“He goes by Darth Vader” a new voice jumped in, your eyes snapping to the holo-projection of Bail Organa, the senator’s eyes giving nothing away but pity.

“no-“ the protest fizzled on your lips, barely enough breath behind it to properly get it out.

“The source is solid” it was Mon Mothma again, eyes practically begging you to listen. “Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader”

And for a second your brain couldn’t comprehend it, wouldn’t comprehend it. How were you supposed to reconcile these two opposite people as one? “No that doesn’t make any sense”

“I’m sorry Y/N”

“No” you protested loudly, as if yelling could get it to not be true, could get them to admit they were lying, this this was all some sick joke “Someone is wrong, someone is lying to you-“

“The information is good” another voice interrupted but you were too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even identify who it was.

“No the Anakin Skywalker I knew wouldn’t-“

“The Anakin Skywalker you knew died the day that you did” Senator Organa cut through all the noise in your head, his voice loud but not unkind as he drew your attention, the entire world seeming to fall deathly silent after those words.

“What does that mean” your voice was quiet, broken, you didn’t have it in you to care.

“It was an open secret” he explained softly, the senator façade breaking just slightly “the day you were reported to have died Anakin fought with the Jedi council, fought with Obi-wan, no one could get him to calm down, to think rationally. Eventually he made his way to Palpatine’s office, he hasn’t been seen since”

“We all knew of his distaste for the council before this” Mon Mothma chimed in “he blamed them for your death, drove him right into the arms of the current emperor”

Your mind had slowed, had calmed noticeably but still you found yourself dancing around the issue rather than actually dealing with it, your thoughts instead deciding suddenly to stick to something else.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You watched them all carefully, noticing the nervous glances they sent towards one another rather than answer “I wasn’t lying when I said you were just like the former council, preferring to sit on information until it could properly serve your purpose so what’s the purpose this time?”

Again Mon Mothma took the lead, hesitantly speaking up “he’s formed a group with the sole purpose of hunting down and killing any remaining jedi. It’s quite frankly only a matter of time before he finds you”

You furrowed your brow at this “so you’re warning me? Telling me I need to leave the base?” you shook your head slightly, not liking how either of those answers fit before it finally clicked “you want me to stop him”

“We want you to talk to him” Senator Organa corrected you “if there’s anyone who can get through to that man it’s you”

You eyed each of them skeptically, knowing as you were sure they did as well, that this question only truly had one answer “I’ve been told twice in this conversation alone that Anakin Skwalker is dead.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself on the back of a chair “for all of our sakes I hope that’s not true”

-

Realistically you knew it was true the minute your ship touched down. Even if you weren’t conscious of it at the time you could feel that all too familiar force signature coming from the planet, seeping into your very bones.

To know it logically was an entirely different story.

You stayed hidden, following from alleyways and rooftops, you couldn’t make out the man beneath the costume but everything about him was just wrong. His gait was wrong, the way he held himself was wrong, the red saber at his hip was wrong, there was no possible way the man beneath the mask was that familiar jedi. And yet…

You couldn’t face him. You knew that. Even if it was Anakin under there you weren’t ready to find out, weren’t sure which answer would be more devastating to you.

So even though it meant failure you put your hood on and slunk away, leaving behind Darth Vader whoever he was, ready to tell the rebellion they would have to come up with another way.

You got little more than a flutter of a cape in warning before he descended upon you.

The black figure whipped around the corner faster than your brain could comprehend, having time to do little more than simply freeze in place before you were lifted off the ground by a force you were all too familiar with, invisible fingers tightening around your neck as you were lifted.

“You’ve been following-“ you got little of the figures voice through the mask before he suddenly cut himself off, the pressure on your neck easing just enough to allow you to gasp for breath, the world stilling around you as you looked out from under your hood at what was supposedly Anakin Skywalker.

The world stood at a standstill for a moment, you hovering inches above the ground, toes desperately seeking purchase, Darth Vader silently staring at you, hand held before him almost trembling. You were working yourself up to croaking out a question when his other hand raised suddenly and with a flick of his wrist your hood went flying back.

The second the light hit your eyes the force on your neck disappeared and you crumbled to the ground below in a heap.

Precious few seconds were given for you to gulp down breath before you were hauled back up by your neck again, this time an actual hand secured firmly around it as you were all but thrown against the wall, your head smacking against the brick painfully.

“who are you” even through the voice modulation you could hear the way he seethed beneath the helmet, ire barely contained by the black material.

“Y/N” you croaked weakly, clawing half-heartedly at the hand around your neck that held you in place.

His fingers tightened in response before he pulled you back and slammed your head once again against the wall, a soft groan escaping you at the impact “now is not the time for games now who are you”

“I’m telling the truth” you practically begged, unable to feel any shame in it as the edges of your vision started to black from lack of air.

“That’s impossible-“ you couldn’t really bring yourself to listen to the rest of the sentence, the only thing running through your mind was a grim acceptance that this was how you would die. Supposedly at the hands of the man you had once loved.

“Ani please”

And you hadn’t meant for the plea to escape you, barely even registered that the nickname passed through your lips. All you could focus on was the fact that after they came out into the open you had finally been released.

Again you crashed to the ground, hands splayed out to catch yourself before you could faceplant, lungs burning as you greedily gulped down air.

“Why would you-“ The words died in his throat and a strange, bitter part of you wanted to laugh.

Once you finally had better control of your breathing you sat back on your heels and looked up at the man clad in black before you, squinting slightly at the sun over his shoulder. “It’s true then”

He didn’t respond, simply looked down at you.

“take off your helmet”

“who do you think you are-“ again the urge to laugh surfaced, the way he reached for anger so readily was so similar to the man you once knew, how could you not have seen it earlier.

“Take off the helmet” He physically recoiled at the command. You softened your voice in response, practically pleading with him "I need to see your face"

Again the man before you went rigid, a tense few seconds passing in silence before he hesitantly reached up and pulled off the helmet.

The man standing before you looked somehow older than you remembered but unmistakably him, and every thought about your mission flew out the window the second his eyes made contact with your own. Your brain rejected the similarities outright, because despite being told Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one in the same you still couldn’t handle this physical evidence linking the two.

You reacted without thinking, taking a single step forward and planting your hands on his chest, roughly shoving him backwards, Anakin allowing himself to be moved without a second thought “Maker Ani what the fuck were you thinking”

His helmet slipped from his grasp absentmindedly, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest where your hands had just been as he just stared at you, eyes swirling with too many emotions for you to pin down at the moment.

“Palpetine are you serious?” You demanded more than asked, hurling the implication at him with reckless abandon “I always told you I didn’t trust him and still you-“

“You weren’t there” he cut you off and his voice was so soft, so broken it startled you into silence, your body physically recoiling back a step as he spoke “You weren’t there, and he was all I had”

“You had Obi-wan, you had Rex, you had people who cared about you Ani”

“They weren’t you” his answer back came steadfast and resolutely, leaving no room for argument, followed by a much quieter, more broken statement “they took you from me”

“No one but that weapons dealer took me from you.”

“They did” neither of you felt the need to define the ‘they’ to which you both referred “If they hadn’t kept me from going with you I could’ve-“

“You don’t know that” you cut him off, this argument feeling much to familiar “Even if you had been there we don’t know-“

“If I had been there then you wouldn’t have-“ and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, the natural end to it evidence that this was an argument he has already had with himself too many times before.

“I didn’t” you begged him to listen to you, “I’m okay. Ani I’m right here”

Your words seemed to shock him out of his own personal bubble, his eyes darting frantically around him before he seized you by the wrist suddenly, surprising you, as he started to pull you further down the alley “you need to go Y/N”

“What” the question left you on an exhale, his sudden change in attitude giving you whiplash as he tried to pull you behind him.

“You can’t be here you need to-“ he whispered quickly, frantically, almost as if the words weren’t for you.

You pulled back on your arm forcing him to stop “Ani I’m not leaving you”

He furrowed his brow at your declaration, a hand on your shoulder trying to nudge you forward still “Y/N do you know what the empire will do to you if-“

“I don’t care” you declared back, halting his movements once again, using his grip on your arm to pull his attention back down to you “I already lost you once, don’t make me do it again”

His eyes bounced desperately back and forth between yours as he set his jaw, you could practically see a million different arguments running through his head.

“Halt” a new voice broke through the tense silence, Anakin’s gaze flickering to its source above your head. You barely had time to gaze over your shoulder at the trio of clone troopers that had approached, guns drawn, before Anakin had sent the lead one flying rapidly into the wall with a flick of his wrist.

You tried desperately to hide your flinch at the noise of his armer hitting the building.

The other two froze on the spot, blasters still pointed at you, but Anakin ignored them both, hand still held aloft as he stared down at you debating his next steps for a precious few moments before he spoke.

You could see him physically morph as he addressed the clone troopers, could see him become that other man, that Darth, in the way he squared his shoulders and straightened his back, the way his voice dropped an octave, the way his grip on your wrist grew almost painful as his gaze bore down into yours

“this one is force sensitive, she comes with me”

[mcflymemes]

STAR WARS: EPISODE VI - RETURN OF THE JEDI PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 1983 film, adjust as necessary

i'll not leave you here. i've got to save you.

what i told you was true... from a certain point of view.

you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.

there is still good in him.

you may dispense with the pleasantries.

i'm here to put you back on schedule.

perhaps i can find new ways to motivate them.

we shall double our efforts.

don't talk that way.

you have a power i don't understand and could never have.

i know. somehow, i've always known.

he must be allowed to speak.

it's your choice, but i warn you not to underestimate my powers.

i shall enjoy watching you die.

good, i hate long waits.

doesn't sound so bad.

she was very beautiful. kind, but sad.

so you have accepted the truth?

that name no longer has any meaning for me.

you want this, don't you? the hate is swelling in you now.

it is unavoidable. it is your destiny.

how many languages do you speak?

you are unwise to lower your defenses.

all craft, prepare to retreat.

we've got to give him more time.

it's an older code, sir, but it checks out.

there may be more of them out there.

i have a really bad feeling about this.

it only takes one to sound the alarm.

you cannot escape your destiny.

i can't kill my own father.

why don't you use your divine influence and get us out of this?

i beg your pardon, but that just wouldn't be proper.

you were our only hope.

soon i'll be dead, and you with me.

your insight serves you well.

bury your feelings deep down, [name].

help me take this mask off.

i do believe they think i am some sort of god.

i can't see! what's going on?

i assure you, we are quite safe from your friends here.

i'm out of it for a little while, everyone gets delusions of grandeur.

if you will not fight, then you will meet your destiny.

just for once... let me look on you with my own eyes.

no, you're coming with me.

your overconfidence is your weakness.

you were right. you were right about me.

together again, huh?

i feel the good in you, the conflict.

there is no conflict.

you couldn't bring yourself to kill me before and i don't believe you'll destroy me now.

you've failed.

who are you?

you cannot hide forever.

i will not fight you.

it is the only way you can save your friends.

your thoughts betray you.

when he comes back, i won't get in the way.

it's not like that at all.

i can't do it. i can't go on alone.

i think my eyes are getting better.

there's nothing to see. i used to live here, you know.

how could they be jamming us if they don't know if we're coming.

break off the attack! the shield is still up!

take evasive action!

keep your distance, though, but don't look like you're trying to keep your distance.

i don't know. fly casual.

you can't do this. i feel the conflict within you. let go of your hate.

this is an unexpected pleasure.

you're going to die here, you know. convenient.

tell me. what's troubling you?

you're a jittery little thing, aren't you?

i just said you were a fair pilot!

i'm surprised they didn't ask you to do it.

[princessbrunette]

How do you think Anakin would be with a touchy s/o or someone who’s love language is physical touch

anakin himself is super touchy, so he’d love it. the two of you would constantly be wanting to live in eachothers skin and he wouldn’t have it any other way. however, it takes him a while to get used to it all — let’s remember that anakin has been denied affection since he was just a child.

you’d try and control your urge to press your hands into his warm skin all the time when you first start secretly seeing eachother. you’d indulge when the two of you would kiss, running your hands over his firm chest and arms as if trying to consume him through your fingertips. but anything further than that, you feared making him uncomfortable— aware that jedi were taught to reject all attention, physical included minus a friendly back pat from a clone or an arm grab from a fellow jedi after a close encounter. as expected, he was stiff as a board when you first crawled into his lap after a long day, wedged your head beneath his chin and snuggled down like an animal burrowing into the ground.

“a‘you alright?” he called casually, face feeling hot knowing he was being totally awkward about it.

“sorry, ani. just… need you. had a bad day.”

those words, and that tone, was enough to make him melt a little— body relaxing and arms wrapping around you, squeezing tight. from that very moment on it was like a drug, once he’d began touching you he couldn’t get enough, constantly seeking out your body temperature and your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your chest so he could hold you and be reassured that you’re here, you’re safe.

there were some days, especially when he’d come back from battle that the two of you were just inseparable. you’d sleep on top of him, cheek pressed to his chest, drooling on his skin as you dozed. he’d let you inside his robes as you cuddle on the couch watching holo-dramas. he’d carry your sleepy body on his hip effortlessly in the morning when he’d be making his Caf, not wanting to leave the warmth of your body alone in the bed, letting you groan sleepily into his neck, leaving the skin there warm and tepid from your shallow breathing.

your favourite is when he’d be typing away a mission report and you can’t bare to be apart from him, needing him in every way despite his mind being consumed by work. he’d have you sat on his lap, cheek to his shoulder, cock seated deep in you. you’re instructed not to grind or bounce or anything, just “take what you’re given, beautiful.” and who are you deny that low and raspy voice?

if you get all whimpery and whiny about it, he’s more than happy to type with one hand, letting the other somehow nonchalantly slide up your throat and give it a soft but stern squeeze, before continuing on to push his fingers into your mouth. of course you’d suck on them like they were the best thing you’d ever tasted, the taste of him addicting to someone who just wanted to feel him closer, inhumanely closer, impossibly so.

“can feel you clenching, my love. you’re gonna work yourself up. try breathing for me, that’s a good girl.” he doesn’t hide the smirk, feeling your walls strangle him harder at the words.

[roosjem]

Star Wars Au Masterlist

https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoosjeM

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

‘Oya'karir Jetiise’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Semi hidden Jedi, All Mandalorians have a Competence Kink, Fix-it.

It started slowly. Mostly with curiosity from Mando’ade who had read Jaster’s article. Curiosity about just what their ancestors and predecessors saw in Jettise of all beings. That curiosity grew bigger when it turned out that Jetiise were a lot harder to find than anyone would have thought. Which made it a challenge. And there was no Mandalorian in the galaxy that would not rise to the challenge of a good hunt. -------------- Or, the discovery of a few tiny mistranslation leads to Mandalorians realising that their ancestors really really liked Jedi and they set out to discover why. Shenanigans ensue.

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

‘The Temporary Temple Guards’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan x Jaster Mereel, AU Timeline.

It was a widely known fact within the Temple, that the Temple Guards stationed at the Coruscant Temple were experiencing a ‘shortage’ at the moment. Seeing as Knights were sent out to complete missions and went on protective details, they were also the Corp that was responsible for the Temple Guards. - “I may have an issue.” “What is it?” The boy was alone. No one else was around despite it being the middle of the night. Just the boy who made a bee-line for Obi-Wan. He was way too young to be out at this time let alone out here all alone. It was the boy’s training armour that tipped Obi-wan off that this was more than just a lost child. “I have a youngling in front of me. There is no one else around and I am pretty sure he’s Mandalorian.” Quinlan paused, then asked, “...Come again?” Obi-Wan peered down at the child tugging at his arm. “Aran, ner echoy'la.” Kriff. “Correction, I have a Mandalorian boy in front of me telling me he’s lost.” - Or it’s Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s turn to be a Temporary Temple Guard and of course one of his past missions comes back to haunt him.

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

‘To Heal, One Must Hurt’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Jon Antilles x Jaster Mereel, Fix-it.

One of the Jetii’s scarred, pretty hands reached out and travelled to Jaster’s neck which had the latter stiffen. “What are you doing?” “Making sure your heart doesn’t fail while you sleep.” Jon replied. This Jetii was strange. “Your hand is putting too much pressure. I can’t sleep like this.” “I would rather not find you dead in the morning.” Jon replied, his hand not moving, “Healing you would be a waste of energy if that were to happen.” Jaster’s view of Jetiise had always been silver tongued Monks who sweet talked their way through politics and killed whomever didn’t fall for their mind tricks. This Jetii was nothing like that. “At least put your hand lower– how do you expect a Thaung-descendant to sleep when their ancient enemy is choking them?” It was hard to see the Jetii’s face below that deep hood of his. “Very well.” Jon scooted a bit closer. Jaster moved up and rested his head on top of the Jetii’s thigh. “What are you doing?” Jon demanded. “Shhh, sleep speeds the healing process.” Jaster mumbled. Another sigh told Jaster just how much he was pissing Jon off, but the Jetii kept his cool and slowly settled. It was actually surprisingly comfortable to lie down like this.

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

'No Rest for the Weary'

Update status: Finished

Notable tags: Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi

'Fresh from Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan goes on a mission with his Master to Mandalore. The conflict between three major factions; the New Mandalorians, Kyr'tsad and the Haat'ade was getting out of hand and the New Mandalorians requested the Jedi to interfere. When they get separated, Obi-Wan is left alone on Mandalore to survive and somehow gains a fanclub of adoption-happy Mandalorians.'

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

'The accounts of Ben Yustapire'

Update status: Finished

Notable tags: Ben Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Time Travel Fix-it, Mandalorian Empire.

'These are the official accounts of Ben Yustapire, recounting the the days leading up to the rule of Mand'alor the Reformer. The first Mand'alor to unite the Clans under one soul-ruler since the end of the Mandalorian Wars. Or as I knew him, Jaster be Aliit Mereel' In which Obi-Wan Kenobi is thrown back in time by the Force to get another chance at saving the galaxy.

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'The Last Of Their Kind'

Update status: Ongoing, slow updates/updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises Luke Skywalker, Post-Order 66, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies.

'He rounded the corner towards the square right in front of the Temple- it was different than before because there had never been a square in front of the Temple. Obi-Wan froze in place the moment he looked up. His eyes observed the large statues one by one. Plo Koon, Mace Windu, Kit Fisto- they were all Councillors during the war. Obi-Wan stood in front of the statues as tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn't seen them in a long time and these statues looked exactly like them. From facial features and expression down to the way they were seated- as if they were in a regular Council meeting. "Look Uncle Ben! It's-" Obi-Wan leaped to Luke and covered his mouth before he could say anything else. "Yes, I see, it's General Kenobi." He hoped the beings whose attention was drawn towards them would move on quickly. "But try not to shout, Luke, alright?" His eyes left the boy to observe the statue of himself. Or, in which the Clones take over the Empire and Obi-Wan hears rumours about the whole ordeal which causes him to head back to Coruscant. Updates whenever inspiration strikes.'

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'Rid'runi be Mand'alor'

Update status: Ongoing, slow updates/updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Alternative Timeline, Soulmate AU, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises Luke Skywalker.

'In his quest to bring his newly born nephew to Anakin's stepbrother, Obi-Wan 'Ben' Kenobi accidentally passed through a Force Nexus which transports him to another world where his dormant soulmark finds new life. Realising his predicament, Obi-Wan sets out to find a way to get them back to their own timeline to ensure Luke would have his family. Except it isn't that easy when old enemies hunt you down and a certain soulmate is trying to pin you in place.'

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'The War Master of the Jedi Order'

Update status: Finished (25/25)

Notable tags: Ben Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Time Travel Fix-it.

'The Force- strong and Light as ever- greeted Ben as an old friend. A breeze blowing Ben's hood off and moving his robes. As if a hand gently brushed through his hair- as if the Force was comforting him. The beautiful colours painting the atmosphere. Another melody in the cool and icy evening air. Marching in the background. Ben closed his eyes, listening to it. it was the shift of armour, the clang of Beskar against Beskar, that snapped Ben out of his quiet reflection and mourning. Ben opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. Behind him were three Mando's approaching him from all sides and cornering him. Turning to face those approaching him, Ben tilted his head. "Tion'cuy?" "Naasade." Ben replied as he jumped back onto the railing, spread his arms and let himself fall back.'

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[gffa]

This is a long rant and I apologise if this comes off as too much 😅 I just want to let you know that I'm SO GLAD you're part of the star wars fandom. You're one of the few reasons my interest in this franchise has survived despite the toxicness that it has seeped into everything the past few years. Yes, star wars fandom has always been pretty much a mess but I feel like these days it's somehow gotten even worse. And there isn't even anything coming out that could distract everyone from the constant drama.

Your blog and your posts about the books are always a breath of fresh air in all this. I really appreciate that you take time to make all these long canon references and share them with us. And that you actually engage with canon content! For some reason that seems to be a tall order for most 'fans' these days.

It's exhausting seeing the ice cold takes about the jedi be repeated over and over again by people who seem to have barely even watched the films, let alone read the random book they're referencing to show how the jedi are So Evil and failed poor anakin by Forcing him to let go of his Attachments so they definitely deserved to all get massacred down to the last child!!! And if you push back by citing literally anything canonical to show how ridiculous their takes are they reference a random obscure legends novel (that they are often twisting and also usually haven't even read) And if you point out that, no, Legends isn't canon (and never has been) and we could discuss it as its own separate thing instead of dragging it into canon discussions, they completely flip and say they don't care and to stop taking star wars so seriously 🙄 ( u can probably tell I've had some pretty frustrating fandom arguments recently lol)

It does feel like groundhog day sometimes with the same arguments being repeated over and over again to villainize the jedi while absolving the genocidal mass enslaving space fascists that are Very Clearly the Bad Guys. And it feels pretty much deliberate at this point when people misunderstand star wars' canon definition of attachment and project all their issues in their own lives with their christian upbringing onto the space monks... This has only been exacerbated by people like Headland jumping onto the franchise and doing this with fuckass disney's approval, so now the racist anti jedi youtubers have started attacking this new anti jedi show so if I defend the jedi I get lumped in with them *sigh*

Anyway, I just listened to Padawan's Pride because of your posts and it was fun and a much needed palate cleanser for me after the months of anti jedi takes. I also started reading your jedi citations project and it's gotten me back into reading some other of my favorite jedi fics and maybe writing some of my own. So tldr; Thank You!

Oh, anon, I hear you and I went through a lot of similar feelings over the last few months. In between a lot of IRL stuff coming up and the fandom getting incredibly weird about Jedi fans (soooo much projection going on that it started getting unsettling sometimes) and the same old constant beratement on my posts, I was thinking that I was just too tired to deal with any of it.

It did get hard some days because it felt like no matter how hard I tried to be friendly and make a point to say that everyone needed to be allowed their space whether we agreed or not, that I would still get words put in my mouth or my posts misinterpreted or accused of trying to shut down other people's conversations, when I've never even interacted with that person, I've never reblogged anything from them, never talked about them, just made my own posts about the Jedi on my own blog.

That aspect of how, if we write posts that cite Lucas quotes or moments from the movies and shows, we're taking things too seriously (or the super weird one of how we're trying to "force" people to have to take Lucas' commentary as a holy grail or whatever), then we're taking it too seriously is SO REAL, I have been through that SO MUCH. And it's like, no! Nobody has to take authorial intention into consideration! But if you're going to say that I ~missed the point~ of what Lucas intended with the movies, I'm going to break out the Lucas quotes to show that, no, I didn't miss the point. You're still not obligated to agree, but the point is that I'm not coming out of nowhere with my views and deriding me as not a ~true fan~ or whatever is asshole behavior.

And it's hard to have that groundhogs day feeling, especially because you don't necessarily want to spend that time getting into arguments with people--they are allowed their own space, if they want it! But if they're coming into our space, then yes we get to respond with an essay if we like. (And, hey, some of us genuinely like writing essays, it's satisfying!) But I've found the best mindset for me to have when arguing is: I'm not going to convince this person in front of me and that's fine, they're not going to convince me, either. But there are other people watching this discussion and they are seeing which one of us is being a pill and which one of us looks kinda fun to hang out with.

Which is my way of winding around to what I really want to say--I'm so glad that I can help you want to have fun in this corner of fandom! There's always going to be times to respond with sharp edges to Jedi-critical stuff (especially when it starts dipping into the racist, xenophobic, bigoted nonsense)(not all of Jedi criticism is this, but it does happen all too often), I don't blame Jedi fans for having their nerves scraped raw by people feeling absolutely free to treat our posts like public property instead of them coming into someone else's lane to make a mess. (I've met some very nice Jedi critical people, this isn't about them, this is about the assholes.)

But is it really worth being in a fandom where that's all we do anymore? We can't avoid the negativity, we can't avoid people being assholes to us, but we can work on making the content we want to see at the end of a long day when we get home and log onto the computer and want to see something that makes us feel joyful.

I hope I'm doing my part to make it fun to stick around the fandom, to want to read some of the books or some of the fic, I love the artists who are drawing the cutest Jedi art, I love the fic writers who are writing great Jedi-positive stories, I love people who make silly shitposts about how funny the Jedi fan be, I love people who cry over the deaths of their favorite Jedi, they help make the fandom worthwhile.

It really does make a huge difference, I think! Whenever I need that same palette cleanser, I just take a week or so to push aside all discourse (don't even go look), just pick up some of my favorite Jedi fics, just go looking for some of my favorite Jedi art, reread "Padawan" or "Padawan's Pride" or "Obi-Wan & Anakin" or "The Living Force" or "Dark Rendezvous" and just spend time thinking about the things I love about the Jedi in canon, thinking up headcanons about lineages or nerdy Jedi philosophy arguments or adrenaline junkies, and it helps create the space I want to be in.

Hearing that I can help you with that is a huge boost as well--I hope you know that it helps me in return to know that we can help build something together here in our corner of the Star Wars internet. We're in this together and we can cheer each other up with cute content and I am getting out the pom-poms for you to have fun with that fic! <3

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

Something is hunting Darth Maul across the stars.

A presence he cannot touch, whispers that chase him from sleep. Answers seem to lay in a place he cannot go... at least, not alone. Before the Jedi and the Sith, before the Republic or the Empire, before the ancient Je'daii even, there were force users building temples and communing with the cosmic energies.

Somehow, even back then, there was a rule of two.

For Ben Kenobi, getting up each day is difficult enough, nevermind facing the past. He has one singular goal left to him: to be a guardian. A very distant guardian. Between the echoing emptiness of his cave and the war-torn memories that haunt him, he really just wants to be left alone.

Too bad for him that sleep-deprived sith lords aren't likely to take no for an answer.

[The long awaited sequel to Desertification is here!]

🔥🔥🔥 Read chapter 1 on Ao3, or scroll below the cut! Updates on Tuesdays.🔥🔥🔥

Bridges are a beautiful weakness. 

This one is massive. Natural stone that reaches across a wide span between stronghold and barren cliff. The architecture is sharp, angular, and modern, with little in the way of ornamentation. It is simply a functional pathway, the sole point of access for a utilitarian facility. The forces garrisoned here would have little trouble defending this chokepoint, under typical circumstances. 

A zygerrian guard rises off the ground, clawing at their neck, while the next shoots wildly, hollering for backup. Blaster bolts curve off unnaturally into empty air. The first alien loses consciousness and slumps, still airborne. Their rifle clatters to the stone. The second turns and manages to flee two steps before they are swept sideways off the bridge like a leaf in a storm. They plummet, screaming, twenty stories down and into the lava below. With a lazy gesture, Darth Maul sends their strangulated comrade tumbling after them. 

Lords of the Sith truly cannot qualify as ‘typical circumstances.’ 

He begins forward again as the next defenders rise to stop him. The formation they take is practiced, but he can see their quaking knees, feel their fear in the air. 

If these fools truly wished to challenge him, they would be far better served by calling their forces back and turning the compound’s anti-ship cannons on its own infrastructure. Burying him alive might actually slow him down… but the cannons remain fixed on the sky, and figures in golden armor pour out onto the wide, windy bridge. 

The price of such short sighted arrogance will be their lives. 

Maul finishes churning through the first of the stronghold’s defense forces. He scatters a forward line of pikemen, shielding himself from blaster fire using stones torn from the structure itself. The occasional bolt slips past these rocks, but he simply bats those away with his saber. 

The slaughter of their frontline gives the next group time to prepare. He is met with a more cohesive unit, backed by snipers. The cover fire does them little good. Maul ruins their formation by blitzing carelessly into the middle of it. His red blades lay into the panicking bodies around him and parry the long range shots back to their origins with impeccable soresu. 

While he picks off the remaining snipers in their nests with a few force-propelled rocks, a new line of troops with energy bows come forward, firing in rapid sequence. It is… quaint, he thinks. Few have the dedication to make such a weapon into a formidable challenge, and these guards could not have matched the skill or power of a dathomirian archer on their worst day. Perhaps it is because these soldiers lack an edge of desperation -for food or survival- whenever they practice their aim?

Regardless, their skill or lack thereof is ultimately irrelevant against a man who can predict where they will fire.

Maul reaches the halfway point unimpeded, and the zygerrians finally switch tactics to something more innovative. The remaining guards part, and a set of twins emerge to close with him instead.

Each wields a halberd tipped by shining blue energy blades. They fight together, resplendent in fanged grins and fine armor. Their movements, obfuscated by swirls of shimmering gold cloth, complement each other with the skill born of what must have been decades spent training in tandem. 

Facing such talent is the highlight of his efforts thus far, but even these warriors cannot match a sith. He tears their blades from them, and stabs each twin through the chest with their siblings' match. They die propped up on the hafts, slouching toward each other. 

Blaster fire starts back up, and Maul returns to working through the rest of the chaff. The air begins to reek of desperation so strong it can be smelt over the sulfur. Acetone-bright and cloyingly sweet. 

Quick as a lightning strike, an electro-whip cracks near his head with a sharp snap-fizz . A waft of ozone fills his nose, and the sith's forward momentum stutters to a halt. Resentful yellow eyes lock on the offender and he bares sharp, iron-stained teeth at them. The tall zygerrian only snarls in return.

Hatred rolls off Maul’s shoulders like heat waves in the force. That energy coalesces, and entropy descends on the whip-wielder. Their fur begins to dissolve as if they were being nibbled on by acid that simply does not stop, and the muscular form falls to the ground, writhing and screaming. They melt into naught but blackened ash under Maul’s baneful stare.

He turns to continue on, sunk too deep in the flow and lust of combat to examine the demise any further. 

Slaves are thrown at him next, driven out onto the bridge as his assault nears the stronghold's three-story double doors. An effort he hesitates to call a 'tactic'. Half of the scrawny chattel fall to their bellies before he has even reached them, quivering and silent as they choose the potential wrath of their masters over certain death upon his blades. 

Those who fight he kills as quickly as they come. Living and dead alike are left on the ground behind him, forgotten as soon as they pass out of sight. 

More guards, with flashier armor and even finer weapons are next. Insignia and marks of esteem decorate their shoulders; the royal guard, here to die for their liege. 

A sai cha strike with his saberstaff, and a head hits the ground before the body knows it is dead. Cho mok and cho mai, double-disarmed at the wrist. Their owner stumbles and falls off the bridge in shock, fixated on the remaining stumps. An angled shiak, down through the ribs just far enough to boil the blood in their lungs. Mou kei to the left leg, and another trips off the side to join the rest in immolation. Maul spins in a flourish of beautiful juyo at the gate.

Sai cha. Sai cha. Sai cha. 

Then there are no more guards. 

He pushes the double doors open with the force, and smiles to behold the reason he came here.

"Prince Trifenra," his croon echoes in the silence of the throne room, "I warned you not to cross me."

The lone zygerrian slams a button on the podium beside them, and the floor falls away with them on it. Maul gets to the edge in time to be stymied by a bulkhead closing the hole over. He sneers at it in annoyance, and starts cutting through with his lightsaber. 

Twenty seconds, and he completes a circle of molten metal. A kick with his cybernetic foot sends the cutout falling, revealing a web of catwalks over a field of lava. He jumps. 

The sith searches the platforms as he freefalls, but Trifenra is nowhere to be seen. 

Maul lands on a catwalk with a heave of force to lessen the impact. His eyes drift closed, chest expanding as he breathes in, swaying in whichever direction feels right, focusing… focusing…

The force whispers to him that his prey is that way .

Maul jumps the rail and bounces between causeways, reaching the correct one and pelting down it. The feeling ends at an arch built into the rough stone walls. Thick metal doors, locked tight.

He snarls and starts cutting again, a small circle just large enough to admit him. The sith punches this cutout, and somersaults through without touching the cherry-red edges. 

On the other side are holding cells. Row after row, multiple levels of hexagonal doors stretch out from the entry, each sealed by lambent red. Some are empty, some not. All the prisoners are exotic in some way. 

Maul glances over the occupants as he passes, walking deeper into the facility. Trifenra is here, he can sense it.

The chamber widens into a large, multilevel room around a center platform. A dead end. The prince's possible hiding places have multiplied yet become limited at the same time. Maul's mouth quirks at the corner.

"Come out, come out. Wherever you are~," he sings in a sardonic drawl, like this is a game of hunter and prey between younglings.

The airscrubbers hum through the walls, creating a deep resonance just on the edge of hearing. Despite what must be a robust air recycling system, this room remains steeped in the scents of the enslaved; bitterness and despondency, melancholia and hate. A multispecies cacophony of emotions that make his sinuses itch. 

He hears wheezing laughter, like the rattle of dry grass. 

"Ssssweet, ssssweet, ssssinger…" calls a hoarse voice from one of the cells. The force twinges, a plucked string.

The source is… across the room, on a higher level. Maul can sense the force warping in on itself somewhere nearby. Curious, he leaps closer to it, up a story and over.

The cell on the left is marked as 214, and it contains a nautolan in a rare carmine color. She is heavily pregnant, and pressed as far to the left side of her cage as she can be. 

The cell on the right is marked as 216. It holds a crab-like species he does not know, with a shell that looks like molten, living gold. It is quivering in the back of its container, in the rightmost corner.

In the center cell is a woman with wide pink eyes and an abundance of platinum hair. Her skin is white, like a palliduvan, but with an oily, iridescent sheen. She sits in the center of the room, naked, hugging her knees and shaking with that dry, rattling laugh. 

Her pink gaze zeroes in on him, and her smile grows…and grows… and- 

Lips spread like split meat as she grins from ear to ear, her teeth needle sharp. Conversely, her eyes are kind above the unnatural-looking maw. 

"Blesssssed sssssinger~" she croons sweetly, "the lit-tle king plays a trick  on you. Deceitful. Rude. Give him t-to me and I will blesss your path!" 

She shouldn’t be able to move her jaw like she is, with those facial muscles severed. The force perhaps, magic or alchemy of some sort. He considers her, and the offer, mildly. "I am not easily tricked.” 

She smiles still, and says nothing. Her presence feels like a tangle of razorwire, writhing and clingy. 

"Hm.”

Maul walks away, stalking the metal floors and surveying the open room with thoughtful eyes. The prince is here somewhere, but there are enough strange projections from the prison's myriad occupants that it feels… cloudy.

A mirialan glares at him as he walks past their cage. The man floats a foot above his bed, rail-thin and cross legged.

A dry-looking quarren ignores him in turn, crying weakly into their hands.

He laps the room, and finds himself at the center of this fusion of zygerrian and modern architecture. A control panel sits on a dias, with a map of the cell block and various monitoring systems running. 

"Hm!" he comments, "How convenient." 

He taps the icon for cell 216 and tells it to open. 

The sound of a ray shield powering down is shortly followed by more dry, wheezing laughter. He turns to see the woman step into freedom and launch herself across the room, trailing yards of platinum hair. 

She lands in front of 107, and presses herself as close to the ray shield as one could be without burning. 

"Knoc-kk knnnock!" she croaks. 

The cell's occupant shrieks, falling back in their terror, but then scrambles to the shield again to yell up at him. They appear to be a salenga, but something… something is off. Maul squints, trying to pinpoint-

"I will pay you whatever you want! Anything!"

He cocks his head. Curious. How would a slave pay- 

Oh. Interesting. 

"Put her back in her cell and I will make you royalty! I swear it!"

The unnaturally white creature hisses, no longer laughing.

It is Maul who chuckles, walking to the edge of the center platform and clasping his hands behind his back. "A marriage proposal is it, Prince Trifenra? Now that is a… curious bribe."

He waits for the hope to glimmer in their eyes, then waves a hand in a grand gesture. The console registers a command from a finger press that is not there, and obeys it.

All of the cells open. 

The salenga shrieks again, and melts into a clawdite changeling as they zip out and go streaking away. They make it all of three strides before disappearing under shimmering hair and vengeful pink eyes. 

The next few minutes involve teeth, tearing, and unhinged sobbing. Maul watches for a moment as dozens of aliens flee on either side of him for the exit, then grows bored and turns to his comm. Dryden's secretary answers for him, a softly spoken pantoran with a penchant for ancient art. 

"Hello sir. My apologies, Mr. Vos is in a meeting at the moment. Should I get him for you, or can I take a message?" Sochu asks.

Maul waves off the first. "Simply inform him that the treachery has been dealt with, and he has my permission to begin renegotiating with the other offer."

"Very good, sir. Anything else I can do for you?" 

"Mmno," Maul says and hangs up.

His timing is good. The room has cleared and the strange woman is levitating up to the central platform, slathered in blood all down her front. Something wet and purple is cupped in her palms. She lands daintily, and he raises a brow. 

"Ssssinger, c-c-clever son~ You figurrrred out the trick-k, denied the trick-ksster. Gave him to us ," she smiles sweetly, too many teeth in her mouth. 

Maul hums, watchful.

"A gift!" she declares, and holds out… it’s a liver, or part of one. 

He accepts it, amused, with the smallest of bows. “My thanks.” 

The woman giggles like rotten wind chimes and turns to leap off the platform. She lands below and goes padding toward the lava flows, leaving a trail of red footprints smeared by passing hair in her wake. 

Maul considers the slick bulk of the organ in his hand. Dense, warm, and evenly toned purple. He holds it up and gives it a sniff. It smells healthy- clean blooded and rich, and the fight did have him feeling peckish.

"Mm… waste not, I suppose.”

He chooses a corner and slides his teeth in. The woman’s sharp, clinging darkness in the force gives a final twist and melts away. Maul chews thoughtfully on his way out of the compound, disregarding the blood that drips off his chin. His robes are already too stained for a bit more to matter. 

[catboydogma]

where the stray things go

codywan week 2024 sol master list (solsterlist)

codywan week 2024 day 4 prompts, sol edition: video game au, "subtle" witty banter during the war

notes: this is maybe the most niche au ive ever written. fellas, the bar was on the floor and i have laid down on top of it. welcome to sol's codywan overwatch au. if you haven't played overwatch or don't know the lore, don't worry! most overwatch players don't know the lore either :) this can stand alone, mostly. huge thank-you to @calamity-aims for being my sounding board and giving me so much inspiration by being in the batshit au corner with me. title from white roses by glass animals

wc: 2,346

cross-posted to ao3

All this could have been avoided if Cody had been allowed to pick the infil site. Their landing had been rough but serviceable—the pilot, who only answered to “Kit,” had been grinning and cracking jokes to ease up nerves even as he evaded turret fire and nearly strafed them into the ocean. They’d gotten into the control center all the same, even if Kit had to stay behind with the JEDI heavy to repair the shielding system.

“Commander, these numbers are all wrong,” Crys hissed. “I can take out the security feeds, but this base is way farther along than we thought it was. I mean, we were expecting the turrets and a couple OR14 tanks on top of the usual. But this is—”

Cody exchanged looks with their “combat medic.” In the SEP, that really meant “this medic will make sure you don’t die, and he’s going to do that by killing the other guy first.” Kix had the steadiest hands of any soldier Cody had worked with, whether they were on the scalpel or a biotic rifle. The other medic was another JEDI loan, a woman who wore a combination of robes and light body armor.

“We’re running out of time,” Cody finally said. “We won’t get another chance to destabilize the Donghae Omnium. This mission is critical to the war effort.” They wouldn’t have sent Cody otherwise—though Cody had his suspicions about that. The higher-ups were fond of sending SEP soldiers into situations with unwinnable odds. Their own homegrown, red-eyed time bombs.  

Gregor, another SEP soldier like Cody, laughed and thumped the front of his power armor. “De oppresso liber, Commander. Overwhelming odds is the name of the game. Hey, you think I could beat 17’s KIR on this one?”

“If you think you can take out more omnics than times you get incapacitated, feel free,” Kix said, dry as anything. “Much less top the Strike Commander.”

“Feedback loop established,” Crys murmured, catching Cody’s eye. He’d gone through SEP like Cody and Gregor, but every soldier took to it a little differently. Cody had gotten an even spread of improved reflexes, metabolism, strength, and speed. Gregor’s enhancements had maxed out his strength and metabolism, letting him shake off hits that would kill or cripple an unenhanced human. Crys’ were subtler; he was even faster than Cody, if not as strong, and the chems had somehow boosted his cognitive performance. They’d made it possible for him to undergo cybernetic procedures that would have been deemed much too risky for any unenhanced human.

“We’re in?” Cody checked the safety on his pulse rifle.

“Affirmative. We’ll be going in hot. Patrol patterns will only get tighter as we near the control room. And—” Crys grimaced, electric blue eyes flashing with computerized input. “—if we can’t find an exit fast after we secure the central control hub…”

Cody nodded. “Kit and Sgt. Drallig will secure our exfil.”

“I’m tapped into the alarm system, but there’s a chance for it to be tripped manually,” Crys warned.

“Then we’ll take out any omnics we come across before they can get to it.” Cody gestured for his squad to move out.

Their movement further into the base was easy. Too easy. Every one of them was on high alert yet they still didn’t see the ambush until they tripped it—a full squadron of OR14s blockading the corridor with not one or two but three fucking Bastion turrets and a shielding unit for the whole goddamned party. Fun for all ages.

Then the second wave of war machines flooded into the corridor behind them in a pincer attack that would have made 17 cry big ugly tears of joy, and the mission was officially FUBAR.

Cody was about to start making his peace with the world at large when the razor-sharp head of an arrow sprouted from the chassis of the OR14 tank bearing down on him. He stared, mouth dry and tasting of char and blood. Sizzling blue light arced along its shaft and the OR14 buckled as its electrical systems shorted out.

“I’m hit!” Crys shouted over comms. Gregor was holding their backline and going toe to toe with another pair of OR14 tanks for his efforts. But this wasn’t a sustainable position. And even with SEP enhancements, they couldn’t hold forever.

“I’ve got you.” Kix swore viciously over comms as he ducked behind cover, half-dragging Crys behind him.

They hadn’t even gotten to the control room yet. Much less secured it. Whoever had given Overwatch HQ the stats on this base, they’d been lying out of their ass. Cody resolved to get back to Geneva just to wring necks over it. Let alone—

“You should not have let your guard down,” an imperious voice said. A tall man hauled Cody up like he weighed as much as a kitten. His face was half covered by an armored cowl but dark eyes and heavy eyebrows were furrowed in a scowl at him. Innocuous against his Japanese-style body armor and shoulder quiver of high-tech arrows, a head of auburn-bleached hair gleamed in the harsh LEDs of the control base.

Cody’s pulse rifle got slapped back into his hands and it felt like his brain got rebooted at the same moment. “Who the hell are you?”

“The man that is about to save your life,” the archer replied. “You have the technology to disable the control room once you breach it then, yes?”

“This is a classified—”

“Good.” The archer nodded. He had the gall to wink at Cody over the cowl. “You don’t have to spill all of your secrets yet, Commander. I like my allies a little more… long-lasting.”

Bloody hell. Cody grinned despite himself and wiped the blood off his brow from where a stray shard of shrapnel had almost taken his eye out. “Talk after. Take out the control room now.”

“That kind of forthrightness is what I like to see in a man,” the archer purred as he nocked an arrow and drew his bow. The weight on that thing had to be over forty, forty-one kilos, but the man did it easy as breathing.

Another fighter—especially one as good as this archer—made all the difference. He took down an OR14 from around a corner without breaking a sweat. Half his shots connected in ways that seemed to bend the laws of physics—scatter arrows, rebounds, trick shots from across the entire fucking corridor, all while the man flipped and twisted through the air like an Olympic acrobat.

Crys was able to break open the central hub after a round of healing nanite injections from Kix. Gregor held the doors as their point of defense while Crys uploaded a series of viruses that would cripple the omnium’s comms network and foul their navigations systems, rendering them ducks in a barrel when the local MEKA forces swept in to wipe the rest of the base out.

All this while the archer trashed different parts of the server room alongside Cody, wrecking hardware and banks of data drives. He took an inordinate amount of glee from swinging his bow into monitors and kicking through holographic projectors.

“I’ll clear you a path out,” the archer said when he was done.

“How do I know you’re gonna make it out after me?” Cody asked and checked the charge left on his magazine. They could make it out. This was far from the desperate last stand Cody had thought they’d be making. All thanks to—

The archer hesitated, gloved hands flexing on the grip of his bow. “Is this you asking for my number, Commander? I’m not usually so easy as all that.”

“I can’t buy you drinks if I don’t even know your name or how to contact you,” Cody replied. He stepped closer even as every instinct he had screamed at him to step away, that this man was—somehow—more dangerous than any omnic or tank. “And I’m not the kind of man to leave a dept unfulfilled.”

“No debt,” the archer murmured, dark eyes studying Cody’s face intently. He reached out to brush the tips of his gloved fingers across Cody’s brow, where the shrapnel had torn his face open. It was already clotted and healing, the too-hot feel of inflammation telling Cody that his body was working overtime to seal the wound. “You should get this looked at. Unless you want a dashing scar as a keepsake of our time together. But you don’t seem to be a sentimental man, Commander.”

“I might surprise you.” Cody caught the archer’s wrist, studying him in turn. His roots were showing under the bleach job. They were as ink black as his eyebrows. Thin crow’s feet lined his dark and narrow eyes, expressive for all that the cowl hid his mouth and nose. He hadn’t noticed the curved sword strapped to his back until now. On first guess, it might have been a katana—but Cody didn’t know enough about swords to identify it at a glance. Strangely archaic weapons for such a skilled fighter. It only made Cody hungrier—for more time, more intel, a greedy wish to see his face uncovered.

“Ben,” the archer finally said. “I don’t doubt that, Commander. I… travel often. But you’ve made a convincing argument for those drinks.” He plucked a thin, metallic token out of some hidden pocket and tucked it into a pouch on Cody’s tac belt with nimble fingers. The feel of Ben’s hand on his belt had a thrill of—something running through him.

“That’s Drallig on the line,” Crys said into comms, voice oddly strangled. “Exfil secured.”

“Move out,” Cody barked. He took a hasty step back from Ben, who only smiled—if the wrinkling by his eyes meant anything. “You have an exit?”

“Commander,” Ben purred, nocking another one of his strange and sparking arrows, “let’s just say… my backdoor is very well secured.”

Kix let out a strangled noise. He had one of Crys’ arms over his shoulders, the slicer looking like he’d lost a little too much blood as they’d lingered in the control room.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Lt.,” Cody barked as he passed Gregor. “We have an exit to make.”

“Sir yes sir.” Gregor saluted him with one of his hulking rotary cannons and the comm line exploded into laughter.

Back at base, Cody suffered 17’s scrutiny while his face was sutured back together in a medic’s tender loving care. He had healed too fast, sealing in the shrapnel. The wound needed to be sliced back open, cleaned, and then stitched together again.

“Yeah, that’s gonna scar,” 17 said with a vicious laugh.

Pot. Kettle.

“You recognize this?” Cody flipped 17 the token “Ben” had left him with.

17 caught it out of the air and turned it over in one big hand. His face was unreadable—but maybe that was all the scarring. He’d no doubt already read Cody’s brief. “I knew you’d left something out. You’re a shit liar, kid.”

“That’s a yes.” If 17 knew who Ben was… and Ben had known Cody by name—not unusual in and of itself. Cody was a high-ranking soldier in a global peacekeeping force fighting against the worldwide invasion of the omnics. The Omnic Crisis was wreaking havoc on a scale never before seen but it was also engendering collaboration on an unprecedented level. MEKA, SEP, JEDI, Overwatch, the Crusaders, Volskaya… the best way to unite humankind was to give them a common enemy.

“Yeah. See this?” 17 held up the token so the light glinted off the strange symbol in the corner. It almost looked like a pair of dragons twined together—in an embrace or locked in battle, Cody couldn’t tell. “That’s old blood Yakuza. The Shimada clan. Word was that they all died out after the eldest son went batshit and murdered half the family. Bye-bye, little brother. Bye-bye, gramps. Man was set to succeed the throne of one of the most powerful crime families in East Asia. Instead he wiped them out in a matter of weeks and disappeared off the map.”

“How do you know…?”

17 tapped the token and slid it across the flimsy bedside table to rest by the head of Cody’s medical cot. “The twin dragons are a symbol of power and blood ties. Only the ruling heads of the family got ‘em as their insignia. Out of every high-ranking asshole in the Shimada Clan, only one survived the bloodbath. Take a guess, kid.”

Cody swallowed. The level of skill, the cutting-edge gear, the sharpness in Ben’s eyes… it made too much sense for him to reject it out of hand.

“Shimada the elder is bad fucking news,” 17 said flatly. “Any man that can betray his family like that—crime bosses or not—is a big fat warning sign. You hear me, Cody?”

Yes. Warning sign. Bad news. Danger. Absolutely. Cody saluted 17 and fought down his wince when the movement pulled at his stitches and bruises.

“Bloody hell,” 17 muttered, throwing his hands up in disgust. “Why do I even bother. You know what, kid, if you want to chase after rumors and ghosts, that’s your call. It’s not like I’ve got sixteen years of wisdom on you or anything.”

“Fifteen and a half,” Cody said and bared his teeth up at 17. Never let it be said that he wouldn’t hold his oldest brother to a certain standard of integrity and truthfulness.

“Fucking brat,” 17 muttered. But he scrubbed his knuckles over Cody’s curls in a way that meant affection for him and gave him a sharp nod. That was as good as a big shiny medal and a commendation, coming from 17.

After 17 left the room with the medic, Cody pulled the token over to him and gingerly laid back among his stiff medbay-issue pillows. The center of the metal token was smooth and slightly worn down. His own thumb fit perfectly into the imprint and the metal warmed to his touch.

[im-a-wonderling]

Eyes, Part 5 ~ Anakin Skywalker

Summary: Knowing if she makes the wrong move, her love or her life will end catastrophically, Y/N grapples with the decision before her.

Warnings: unedited

Word count: 3.1k

Eyes masterlist

Vader’s cloak disappeared around the corner, and you sank to your knees, trying to hold the emotion in, to keep yourself from fracturing. But the harder you tried to contain it, the greater the pain grew. 

Finally, a choked sob broke through your lips, and the dam broke. 

All the heartache of the last few months came crashing down. Your whole life had been suspended since Order 66, as if you’d died with all the other Jedi. There were some days where you wondered if you should’ve, if only so that you didn’t have to live on in this way. If you’d died that day, you never would’ve learned what happened to Anakin, and you’d die believing that somehow, the two of you would be reunited. 

But this? 

This was the height of cruelty.

The tears fell like falling stars, and on them, you wished you could rewrite the past. It would have been better to have died than to live through tragedy such as this.

Vader didn’t come back.

You waited in the escape pod bay for a long time, pulling yourself together in preparation for his return. But your only company were the stormtroopers guarding the door.

Is that it then? you wondered as you finally got to your feet and traipsed back to your chambers, the stormtroopers never more than two paces away. Had Vader given up? Was he simply going to turn you over to the Emperor? 

The thought normally would’ve made you seize with fear. Instead, you sat on the bed, staring at nothing. 

If this was the end, then it was the end. What could possibly be the point in fighting it anymore? 

Hope had fluttered away with its fragile wings, probably somewhere where it could be acted upon instead of clung to like an inch of rope in a deep, dark chasm.

You had no lightsaber after Vader sliced it in two, no supplies, nothing of value. Even if you somehow managed to ditch your stormtrooper escort long enough to get to the escape pod bay, it would be naive of you to think Vader wouldn’t send ships after you, or come after you himself.

There was no way out.

In a few hours, you would die at the hands of the Emperor. Your only comfort was to know that you would be freed from this miserable existence and join with the thousands of other Jedi before you. 

The door of your chamber slid open.

You didn’t bother getting up because it wasn’t Vader. You couldn’t feel his darkness through the Force. 

“Food for the prisoner.”

You turned your head just in time to see a stormtrooper set the tray down on the nightstand by your bed.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, your voice tired and soft. “Take it away.”

The doors shut, leaving you alone with the stormtrooper, who didn’t move. “Didn’t you hear me?” you asked crossly. “I don’t want it!”

“In twenty minutes,” the stormtrooper said quietly, “right when this ship passes Asmall, the Rebel Alliance is going to attack.”

You leapt to your feet, staring at him. 

“You’ve already found the escape pod bay. I’ll incapacitate the guards outside your door. Get yourself to the bay and off the ship, and the Rebels will take care of the rest.” He gave a quick nod before opening your door.

You almost called after him, but the sight of the two troopers outside your door made you stop. 

The door slid closed, and you sat on your bed, heart thumping and your hands shaking in response to the sudden rush of hope. Was this a trick? Or was it real? Even if it was a trick, you decided, dying while trying to get away was better than dying for the Emperor’s amusement. 

You felt the darkness a mere moment before the door slid open again. You stayed seated where you were, staring up at Vader.

Taking his time, Vader stepped into the room. 

The door remained open, allowing the two stormtroopers outside to follow him in. 

Your heart picked up. Vader always seemed to want privacy for your conversations before…so what did it mean if he no longer did now? 

“This is…your last chance.” 

The unasked question hung in the air, as if Vader already knew your answer and wanted to draw out the time before he received it. 

You eyed the stormtroopers warily. For all you knew, if you refused, they were prepared to drag you off and throw you in an actual cell again. If you said yes, did you have a better chance of still getting away whenever the Rebel Alliance started attacking the ship? If you said yes, even just as a way of stalling until you got away, would you be able to stomach it? 

Even your heart aflame with the hope of getting away, you knew your answer. “I won’t.”

Vader took a long, rattling breath. “Why not?”

“You know why.” You got to your feet and walked to the other side of the bed, putting more distance in between you and them. 

“You don’t want to take part…in any more loss of life.” Vader stepped closer. “But you were willing…to kill me…when we fought.” 

Blindsided, you took a step back. “I–”

“I felt it…you cannot deny…the darkness.”

“It’s different. The galaxy would be better off if I killed you.” 

One of the stormtroopers behind Vader shifted slightly. Vader addressed them without turning: “Stand guard over the door.”

The stormtroopers scurried away. Fear started wafting through the room as you held your breath, waiting for what Vader would do. 

Vader hit the button for the door with his fist, and it slid closed. 

He remained where he was, with his back to you. “Y/N…I…”

Silence fell, but you knew it wasn’t because he was trying to catch his breath. It was because he didn’t know what to say. You blinked, and Vader was suddenly in front of you, without so much as a whisper of his boots across the floor. Your breath caught in your chest, for you’d never seen Vader move that quickly. “If you do not…join the Empire–”

“I will be killed,” you whispered. The Force inside you pulsed in response to the fear that rushed through you. But fear had never been a stranger. “So be it.”

“Does our history…mean nothing?” Even though his voice hadn’t changed, you felt the current of desperation in the words.

“If you are not Anakin, then why should our history mean anything?” you argued. “Why should I trust you? If you’re not Anakin, why would I have any reason to join you?”

It was disturbing to know from Vader’s silence that he was struggling to compose himself yet being completely unable to see it. “Because…I love you.”

“Anakin is the only man who ever loved me, and you say he is dead.”

“Anakin died…when this body burned.”

“Oh, I think the true Anakin died long before that body burned.” Your soft words fell like bombs, and you could’ve sworn the room darkened. “It doesn’t matter if you’re him or you’re not.” You swallowed hard, trying to keep your nerve. “Anakin was a sith. Darth Vader is a sith. Nothing changes.” 

Silence fell once more. 

Vader remained still, and while the Force seemed to be swarming around him, your head was clear and your heart was resolute. 

Then his arms were moving, and you shut your eyes, convinced you were finally going to feel the famed chokehold around your neck. And in spite of yourself, you were so grateful that it would end at his hands and not the Emperor’s. 

But instead of a pressure on your throat, you felt two arms wrap around you. There was no warmth or softness to this body, and when the arms pulled you into Vader’s chest, the electronic panel there dug into your torso. You’d never been held by a droid, but you imagined this is what it would feel like. You were about to pull away from his embrace when you heard it.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

You squeezed your eyes shut, and a solitary tear fell down your cheek as you sucked in a ragged breath. You could hear Anakin’s…Vader’s heart. The heart you’d once longed for, received, and then lost. 

One of Vader’s hands came to the back of your neck, cradling you just like Anakin used to do. “Does my love…mean nothing?”

You drew away from him, not bothering to hide the tears. “Attachment isn’t love,” you said, your voice shaking. “But I guess Anakin Skywalker always struggled with that.” 

Vader cocked his head, and you braced yourself for the vehement response that he wasn’t Anakin. But when he spoke, his voice was strangely soft.

“You’ve lost everything…but your life…and you are willing…to give it away?”

“My life is not the only thing I have left,” you breathed.

You felt it then, radiating off of Vader so powerfully, it almost stripped you of semblance.

Hope.

He thought you talked of him.

Your heart screamed in agony, but you shoved it aside as you had always been taught. “I am a Jedi.” You held your head high. “And to lose that would be a fate worse than death.”

Through the Force, a surge of darkness rippled through the space between you. Vader shifted, a long distorted exhale escaping the mask. “If you don’t want…to be with me…that’s fine. Just don’t make…a rash decision.”

“It’s not rash.” You tightened your grip on the lightsaber you held behind your back, the lightsaber you’d grabbed from his belt when he hugged you. “Believe me, I’ve thought this through.”

“Why don’t you–” The ship around you shuddered slightly, and Vader twisted to look at the door.

There wouldn’t be a better moment: it was now or never. 

You almost brought out the lightsaber when the doors slid open, revealing a stormtrooper. “Sir, we’re under attack!”

Vader stormed over to the door, and the stormtrooper lowered his head. “Stay here…watch the prisoner.”

With that, Vader swept away. 

You eyed the stormtrooper. Was this the same trooper who’d delivered the message or was this a different one? If it wasn’t, was this still the best opportunity you were going to get? You had Vader’s lightsaber, but you didn’t want to raise it against any stormtroopers if you could help it. 

The stormtrooper standing guard poked their head in. “What are you–”

In a flash, the first stormtrooper knocked the butt of his blaster against his partner’s head, and his partner crumbled. “Go!” 

No sooner had he uttered the word, you burst out of the room, sprinting down the hallway for the escape pods.

A pair of patrolling stormtroopers turned as you caught up to them. Taking a leaf out of your unknown hero’s book, you brought Vader’s lightsaber down on their heads, sending them to the floor in unconscious heaps. Grabbing one of their fallen blasters, you tucked it into the waistband of your pants. 

When you caught sight of another pair headed towards you, you ducked into a closet, waited until they’d passed, and quickly continued on. 

Running towards the final corner to turn before you reached your escape, you scoffed at the engineer who’d designed this ship for designing your temporary bedroom’s proximity to the escape pod bay. Heart pounding and lungs fighting for breath, you rounded the corner, ready to run into one and get off the ship.

Except the bay wasn’t empty. 

“Where do you…think you’re going?”

Vader stood in between you and the pods. 

The ship shuddered again, and you wondered what conflict Vader was willfully missing to be here. “I’m leaving,” you said shortly, seeing no point in being subtle. Anyone with half a brain would be able to figure out what you were up to, and Vader wasn’t that dim-witted. 

“Stay.” 

You breathed against the stab of pain. 

If there was ever a moment to fight, to devote everything you had and everything you were to combat, it was now. Your life depended on it. 

You ignited his lightsaber, cringing at the red but holding tight. “No.”

Vader didn’t move at first, the red light throwing harsh shadows onto his black armor. Then, he slowly raised his hand, not outward as if to strangle you, but to brandish something. 

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“My lightsaber,” you whispered. 

The lightsaber he’d made for you what felt like ages ago, in another life. The one he’d split in half a few days ago. And the one he’d apparently fixed for you.

“Y/N…please…stay.”

You lifted your eyes to the ceiling, keeping the tears and fears at bay and clutching onto every shred of strength and self-respect you possessed. “If I have nightmares for the rest of my life, so be it.” You looked back at Vader, and a tear finally fell. “But I need to be able to live with myself when I wake.” 

The moment the final word left you, you pulled out the blaster and fired.

The harsh sound of the blast leaving the chamber barely reached your ears before Vader ignited your blue lightsaber and deflected it. 

Less than a breath and he was upon you. The red and blue light flashing through the bay with the exchanged lightning quick strikes made your eyesight a little blurry. Every clash of the lightsabers was like a slice to the heart, but your life was on the line, and you knew it. 

Vader lifted your saber above his head, and you were almost too late in lifting his to meet it. 

The two of you grappled, his might pushing against you, forcing you backwards until you hit one of the power stations. You were trapped between cold metal and Vader, moments left before you lost. 

So you did the only thing you could think of. 

You hooked your leg around his knee. 

Vader went down to the floor with a thud, and your lightsaber flew from his hand, the blue light disappearing as it deactivated. You stood above him, holding his red saber aloft as you gazed down at him. 

You could deal the fatal blow. 

You could rid the galaxy of the evil which you might’ve had a hand in creating. 

But did you have the strength to strike him down?

In your hesitation, you knew the answer to that. 

“Y/N…” Vader’s voice was pleading. Did he plead for mercy? For death? Or for you? 

Your hesitation lasted too long. Vader slowly got to his feet. You held his lightsaber out, urging him to stay back, but his helmet didn’t so much as dip to look at his own weapon pointed at his gut.  “Y/N, please.” 

Before your hesitation could cost you your life and freedom, you turned off the lightsaber and hurled it. With the power of the Force behind it, the lightsaber flew through the air like a miniature torpedo, colliding with his helmet. 

Vader stumbled, and you leapt into action before he could recover. 

Sprinting faster than you ever had in your life, you reached the pod. Heart beating wildly, you slammed your hand onto the button to close the hatch. As the doors slid closed, Vader reached out towards you. “Y/N!”

The pod ejected, and the momentum threw you to the floor.

For a moment, you just lay there, mind whirling with the events that just occurred. But then your mind caught up with the present, and you scrambled to your feet, sitting in the seat to put your hands on the controls.

-

Vader burst onto the flight deck. “The rebels.”

The general heard the unspoken question. “We’re holding them off, sir, but it would be unwise to linger without back-up.”

“We must–” Vader started to say.

“Sir!” one of the navigators called to the general. “One of our escape pods was launched!”

“Any life forms aboard?” the general asked.

“One, sir, but the authentication was hijacked!”

“The prisoner!” the general said, turning to Vader. “Sir, we’ll go after her. Dispatch the TIE–”

“No.”

The general paused, giving Vader a strange look. “Sir?”

Vader gripped Y/N’s lightsaber, the one he made for her. The one he fixed for her. The last remnant of her he possessed. “Get us to Coruscant…before the rebels…finish us off.”

“But sir–” Vader advanced on the general, who wisely backed away. “Yes, sir, of course, sir.” The general turned back to the pilot, his throat rippling as he swallowed. “Prepare for the jump to lightspeed!”

Vader left the deck. 

His body ached and burned as usual, but somehow, the pain felt new.

He found himself, standing in front of the window in the escape pod bay again. He watched the escape pod grow smaller and smaller. The ship whined, signaling the jump to lightspeed was near, but he kept his eyes fixed on the pod until the Star Destroyer lurched forward and the stars blurred.

-

There must’ve been some reason the Star Destroyer wasn’t firing at you, but you didn’t have time to wonder. You needed to put as much distance between you and the ship as possible. The sooner you reached the surface of Asmall, the more time you had to find a decent hiding spot.

You’d reached the planet’s atmosphere before you dared to look at the radar. To your astonishment, no TIE fighters pursued you. You twisted in your seat to look out the window in the back of the cramped pod. 

The Star Destroyer was gone.

Your hands shook on the controls as you swiveled back to face the planet. 

You kept glancing back, certain the Star Destroyer would come back, but it stayed gone. 

You’d lost all your supplies, including both Vader’s lightsaber and your own. All you had were the clothes on your back and the near worthless escape pod. 

And your life.

Darth Vader had killed countless people, even people on his own side. But he’d let you go, perhaps in more ways than one. Perhaps…perhaps he was still alive. Perhaps, in the heart of Vader, there still lived a remnant of Anakin Skywalker.

But even if there was, you knew that you would never see either one of them again, and the last memory you would have was of him reaching out for you.

-

And Eyes is officially complete! If you enjoyed this, check out my Obi-Wan fanfic Rescue Me.

Overall taglist:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Eyes taglist:

@idiotreblogger @inpraizeof @katsukiswrld @queenofnigthdarkness @stxrrielle @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @lollaa-puff @xferalblog @violetstyless @polarischk @moon4moony @msrawog @ninjarose23 @mushy-mushroom04 @ordinarylokix @anakin-pilled

[crownprincecody]

WIP Wednesday

It's been months since I've written anything at all, let alone for the ship that I adore. But, today I woke up with inspiration and - to prove I've returned from my hermit like existence in a deep cave somewhere - I thought I'd share a little something.

So, without further ado, I present a small rough snippet of an upcoming fic in my original Senator Obi-Wan series.

"How can you be so calm?" Padmé hissed out of the corner of her mouth, eyes following the team of bounty hunters holding them hostage.

"I've been kidnapped eight times," Obi-Wan replied softly, standing in the midst of his fellow hostages as serenely as anyone ever had.

If anyone had a right to serenity amidst abduction it was Obi-Wan. He held the record for the most kidnappings - attempted or otherwise - among the cohort of Republic Senators - past and present. Yes, it was true that four of his kidnappings technically didn't count, as the would-be kidnappers were thwarted in their efforts before they left Coruscant and once before the kidnapper had so much as said halt. But the principle remained nonetheless.

He had been the victim of so many attempted kidnappings that it was practically routine to him now.

Distantly, Obi-Wan realised that ought to worry him more than it did. But, there were more pressing matters to concern him. Like the squad of heavily armed mercenaries currently keeping them hostage. And the severe glare Commander Fox would give him when he realised how much danger Obi-Wan had found himself in this time.

Somehow, he felt that maintaining that this was demonstrably not his fault was not going to buy him any favours with the crotchety commander.

"This isn't a kidnapping," Bail whispered, moving ever so slightly closer to them. "We're being held hostage."

Obi-Wan inclined his head fractionally, conceding his point. "Which makes this distinctly easier for our rescuers. They already know where we are."

Riyo Chuchi sidled closer to them, her eyes impossibly wide as she took in the scene unfolding in the Senate building atrium. "And the squad of heavily armed mercenaries between us and rescue?"

Obi-Wan hummed softly, understanding Senator Chuchi's point. Still, he smiled; heavily armed mercenaries were nothing in the face of what was coming for them. "Padmé has friends in the Jedi Order. I was a part of the Jedi Order, and-" Obi-Wan's tone softened impossibly, fully aware how besotted he was. "Cody's here on leave."

And his dear Commander was going to be very displeased when he realised Obi-Wan was being held hostage.

Obi-Wan pitied the unfortunate lifeforms who made the mistake of accepting this job.

"Two Jedi with reputations for insanity, one marshall commander who has a reputation for being prepared to destroy Coruscant to find you, and as many of his brothers as the Commander can rustle up," Chuchi shuddered elegantly, a smile hiding about her lips. "How much chaos can one Senate building contain?"

"It doesn't have to contain it," Obi-Wan murmured, watching the nearest mercenary with wary eyes. "Not for long, at any rate. With Anakin and Cody both involved, we should be free in time for the next debate."

Bail's mouth pulled down in an unhappy frown. "Maybe we can hold out a little longer."

Obi-Wan bit back a chuckle. He hadn't particularly been looking forward to the upcoming Senate debate either.

"No talking!"

Obi-Wan favoured the masked mercenary with a baleful glare. "We're politicians," he reminded him, as if that pertinent fact could have slipped his mind. "All we do is talk. You'll have to forgive us for following our natural inclinations."

Bail sighed, quietly despairing. "Obi-Wan, I don't want to explain to Cody why it was necessary for the mercenaries to shoot you."

[astheforcewillsit]

Order 66 is somehow averted. But Obi-Wan still fights Anakin. And wins.

And the clones...well they have stigma about killing a brother. They simply do not do that. And if they do, it's not without consequence.

Not without judgment.

Cody hears rumors about it in the barracks. His head is still a mess from his chip being removed, his brain pulsing "good soldiers follow orders" and the absolute battle it took to break he and his troops away from that.

And Cody thinks these rumors are just some shitty echo of the remnants of his chip--or some terrible telephone game taken place through the ranks his men.

Who too have had some of the most invasive brain surgery every.

Because if Obi-wan Kenobi hurt Anakin, then they're worse of than they started.

He wouldn't hurt him. No matter how bad things got (and goodness, were they bad now) he wouldn't hurt Anakin, not--

His door hisses open.

Boil has come into his space. Frantic. His brown eyes are wide. Worried.

Scared.

"Did you hear what he did to General Skywalker?"

Against Cody's wishes, Boil unveils what has already spread through GAR. What adds fuel to the fire and confusion that has become their New Republic.

Anakin was the Sith. He stood by while Palpatine ordered the Jedi to die. He marched through the temple with Cody's brothers and made them slaughter those younglings (those brothers who had eaten their blasters, who had thrown themselves off of the highest peak after realizing what they'd done. Those brothers who would have still been controlled had Fox not killed the Chancellor).

Anakin fought Obi-Wan on Mustufar. Anakin lost.

Anakin might be dead.

(A selfish part of Cody only thinks about what that might mean for Obi-Wan. He finds it hard to care for Anakin now, knowing what he knows of him.)

If Obi-Wan has turned against Anakin, then kriff have they fallen.

They stay talking until the sun goes down.

Until Obi-Wan eventually comes back.

They can feel him before he even enters the room.

Obi Wan has never lost control of his Force. He knows what power he carries with him. He knows the impact it has on his men, and as a force of nature has been careful to manage his emotions around them. Yet today, this evening, Boil tugs at the high collar of his blacks like his standing under the sun. Cody swallows thickly, dryly, like he's been thrown into the sands of Tatooine.

Obi-Wan's Force is all consuming.

And Boil gives Cody a look that chills him. It's one he's seen too many times before. Before a clone went alone with a general who was too aggressive (he thinks of Krell, and thinks that last time his brother entered that room with the Jedi was the last time he was seen alive. Krell had called it an accident). Before one of the commanders decided to step in for a meeting with a Senator that was too handsy for a shiny.

And not once have any of his men looked at him like that when it concerned Obi-Wan.

Not once. Never.

Until now. Until he maimed his brother.

"Good luck." Boil says this, unfortunately at the same time that Obi-Wan walks in. He makes a hasty salute to the General, pressing himself in against the wall as the General passes by.

Cody locks eyes with his younger brother. Boil would stay if he Cody asked him.

But with a nod, he is dismissed.

Cody looks at Obi Wan and he is nauseous. It takes him a moment to ground himself. The Force has never made him physically ill. At least not from Obi Wan. Never from Obi-Wan.

But right now he fights the urge to vomit in the nearest bin.

Obi-Wan must realize this. Because suddenly the air is lighter. He can breathe again. He doesn't feel like he's eating sand. And his stomach is somewhat calm.

He wishes he could say the same for his general.

Obi-Wan is covered in a fine layer of soot, only permeated by the tear streaks running down his face.

His robes are burned. His eyes are hollow. His lightsaber is not in his side.

He's seen Obi-Wan war trodden before. But never like this.

They don't speak.

He doesn't ask if Anakin is still alive. Boil said some of the 501st saw General--the Sith--Anakin. Or what was left of him. The burnt husk of a man, like tar on the side of the road, left to bake in the sun until some cleaning droid scrapped it off of the side of the road.

Obi-Wan is wordless as he slumps onto Cody's bunk. He still smells of sulfur and soot, and ash gets on Cody as Obi-Wan covers him.

He clings onto his commander like a life source. Like he will die without him.

This is different. And it scares Cody. Obi-Wan has never acted...broken. He has always managed to pull himself together. 

Anakin--the Sith--told Cody that after Qui-Gon, he had pulled himself together. 

After Satine, they watched him walk onto the bridge a Jedi again. 

But this...this isn't normal.

Obi-Wan is the one who stays with terror stricken brothers, who lulls them to sleep with the Force. Who grants them a painless death on the battlefield as they March On to the next life. He is the one who stays up red eyed with Cody, as the clone sobs and sobs about the endless, bloody fate of his brother. 

Obi-Wan is the rock of the 212. But this...

This is different. 

Cody twists and turns with his general, accommodating his bulk until he has settled into a somewhat comfortable position. 

They had ostracized Fox for killing Fives--accidentally (and Force, they know it was a mistake now. They know he had no choice, and he has not been left alone since that revelation was made).

Cody doesn't know what to say to a man who willingly sliced his brother in quarters, but he will not abandon him. Not  this time. 

He hopes the others will follow along. 

Though for now, he holds him tightly.

(ao3 link here)

[veryace-ficrecs]

Jedi Culture and Customs Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

In Search of Comfort by BreakfastTea - Rated G

A collection of short stories in which Cal gives and receives comfort, originally posted to Tumblr in 2022 and 2023. Expect hugs, blankets and pancakes!

‘The Temporary Temple Guards’ by RoosjeM - Not Rated

It was a widely known fact within the Temple, that the Temple Guards stationed at the Coruscant Temple were experiencing a ‘shortage’ at the moment. Seeing as Knights were sent out to complete missions and went on protective details, they were also the Corp that was responsible for the Temple Guards. - “I may have an issue.” “What is it?” The boy was alone. No one else was around despite it being the middle of the night. Just the boy who made a bee-line for Obi-Wan. He was way too young to be out at this time let alone out here all alone. It was the boy’s training armour that tipped Obi-wan off that this was more than just a lost child. “I have a youngling in front of me. There is no one else around and I am pretty sure he’s Mandalorian.” Quinlan paused, then asked, “...Come again?” Obi-Wan peered down at the child tugging at his arm. “Aran, ner echoy'la.” Kriff. “Correction, I have a Mandalorian boy in front of me telling me he’s lost.” - Or it’s Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s turn to be a Temporary Temple Guard and of course one of his past missions comes back to haunt him.

My head is warm, my feet are cold by themonopolyhat - Rated T

No one knows yet how in the Sith hells Obi-Wan managed to sneak up to his quarters before collapsing, either. The fact that he did so on the morning of his own fucking funeral is so theatrical that Vokara may never forgive him.

Or: Obi-Wan rescues himself, gives a Padawan anxiety, and creates problems for Mace and Vokara.

An AU/remix of Night_Fury's if i don't make it back (from where i've gone).

Knights of the Republic by darkstars12 - Rated G

For too many years the Jedi have been mysterious to us. They have been idolized to the point of legend and today we’re here to set the record straight. The Jedi are not some kind of little gods, but rather a beautiful and unique culture that has yet to be explored within modern media. I’m your host Xiaan Pauk and this is Knights of the Republic: Unfiltered.

carried in your heart by grumpyhedgehogs - Rated G

“I am always with you.” Obi-Wan tells her. Her heart thumps painfully in her chest as her grandmaster rests his palm over it. The organ betrays her, beats away like it can crack her ribs apart and slip between them to leap into Obi-Wan’s chest and stay there with him, always. Slowly, tentatively, Ahsoka lets Obi-Wan guide her to rest her own palm over his heart. It pulses under her fingers, reminding Ahsoka at least one Jedi still lives on. “You are always with me.”

Mace's Headache by Siri_Kenobi12 - Rated G

The Jedi Council is shocked after that fateful meeting with Qui-Gon Jinn in TPM, but should they really be surprised that the ‘Maverick’ of the Order would somehow be the epicenter of the prophesied “Chosen One” and the reemergence of the Sith? Should they really be surprised that the Padawan raised by the defiant Dooku would find a loophole in the code in order to get what he wants? That he’d stubbornly stick to his position even if it meant he inadvertently crushed the future of a promising young man in the process? The question plaguing Mace’s mind now is, does he step in to try and fix it? Or does he just leave things alone? Either way Mace Windu already has a headache.

in the swing over the creek by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting in the corner of the crèche, drawing pictures.

Stardust Showers by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated G

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked to the left. He looked to the right. Now was his chance. Time to escape!

the moon slides down the stairs by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Depa Billaba led her padawan, Caleb Dume, through the halls of the Jedi Temple. The path they took was one that was as familiar to her as the katas of Shii-Cho. or Shatterpoint Lineage Dinner, with a twist

Epistolary Investigations by Knifehawk - Rated T

History is an interesting thing, especially when it involves an organization like the Jedi Order that has records stretching back twenty-five thousand years. One would expect that such an organization would have a relatively clear and accurate understanding of their own history, especially history merely four thousand years in the past, but what happens when a single Jedi, desperately searching for any new knowledge that will quench the ire of his archivist friend, discovers information that calls the entire history, and doctrine, of the Jedi Order into question. Typically, debates would be had, accusations and rumors of heresy and apostacy launched, and the seeker would back down fearing their declaration as "fallen." When that Jedi is Master Yan Dooku, Padawan of Grandmaster Yoda, Jedi Shadow, and close friend of Archivist Jocasta Nu and Seer Syfo-Dias? It turns out that a great many things change. Probably for the best as time is running out, and a Force-gifted confrontation edges closer and closer.

then leaf subsides to leaf by The_Last_Kenobi (orphan_account) - Not Rated

You are a Jedi, and this is what that means.

a stitch in time by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Obi-Wan looked out at his clan of initiates. The Dragon Clan had about ten younglings, all gathered around, looking at him with eager eyes. If he was being honest, he was feeling a little nervous about taking his first class. Quin had told him that it would feel natural, and he’d find it no problem, but Quin had also been practically raising Aayla since she was 4 years old.

Scarab by b1uebear - Rated G

“Master,” she said, “is it wrong for a Jedi to kill?” “It would certainly be wrong for you to kill that poor beetle,” Mace replied. Padawan Bo-Katan gets into a philosophical discussion with her Master. For Jedi June 2024.

Spread Too Thin by owlfeather - Rated G

A Jedi may not be able to help everyone. Elara refuses to accept it.

The Eight Younglings by ThirteenGreen - Rated G

The Jedi fosterer Master Laeus goes on another trip across the galaxy to collect younglings for the order. Her journey takes her to seven different worlds in the Republic, different cultures and peoples offering different receptions and glimpses of the galaxy, but all holding a part of the next generation of Jedi.

Little Muttamok Rescue by Jedi_Joanna - Rated G

“I want to keep her.” “No.” Dacken Harfai is a Jedi Initiate of Clan Dewback. Everyone says the war is coming to a close. This is great; now Dacken can figure out how to find who is meant to be his Jedi Master. And, of course, Amon -a muttamok who now lives with the clan- will help.

[grifonecoronato]

Let the Characters on Ahsoka Season 2 Express Emotions!

(spoilers for Ahsoka, Season 1)

I enjoyed Ahsoka season 1 overall, but I have a major gripe with its directorial style.

Simply put, the performances are so needlessly wooden! This is not the actor's fault, mind you... it's the fault of the directors and showrunner.

In fact, even Rosario Dawson expressed hope that she could show more emotion in Season 2, saying:

"I think I'm hoping that there's some levity and some lightness that can kind of come to her. I really liked that kind of spunky energy she had when she first came on the scene. I know that rubbed some people the wrong way, but I really dug that. Natasha very much has that spirit and form. So, I would really like to be able to play with that a little bit." -- Dawson, FAN EXPO Canada, Toronto, 2024

I agree with Dawson. And as a case study, let's examine Sabine's reunification with Ezra.

But before we get to the reunion, let's summarise what Sabine had gone through up until then...

1. Sabine's Life Sucks

When the series starts, Sabine is in a low place in her life. She lives alone in Ezra's comunications tower outside the capital city on Lothal, with only her cat to keep her company.

All of Sabine's blood relatives are dead.

Sabine's chosen family -- the Spectres -- have either died (Kanan), are presumed dead (Ezra), or moved on with their lives, and now serve the New Republic (Hera as a General, Chopper as her trusty homicidal droid companion, and Zeb as part of the New Republic Starfighter Corp).

Sabine holds out hope that Ezra still lives, somehow. But the trail has largely gone cold.

She tried to move on with her life, and dabbled in Jedi training under Ahsoka's tutelage, but that was unsuccessful.

(side note: Ahsoka failing to train Sabine shatters both women's confidence, and is the reason she refuses to train Grogu during the events of the Mandalorian)

And then, one fateful day, Ahsoka returns with something that could point the way to Ezra's whereabouts!

2. Sabine Sacrifices So Much...

So what does Sabine do...?

She solves the map puzzle that reveals Ezra's location...

...gets into her first lightsaber fight (which she loses)...

...recovers...

...survives a space battle...

...gets into another lightsaber battle (which ends in a draw this time)...

...watches Ahsoka die...

...and makes a fateful choice to give the map to the enemy...

...is then taken to a another galaxy and meets her enemy Thrawn...

...fights raiders...

...before finally... FINALLY... reuniting with Ezra.

3. ...But It's All Worth It ... Right?

And yet, all they do is exchange two quippy lines, some bashful smiles and share a warm-yet-restrained hug...

That's it?!

Quips, smiles, and a restrained hug?!?!? After all that, she finally gets her prize... and all she gives are ℚ𝙪𝙞𝓅𝙨, 𝒔𝘮𝙞𝗹𝗲𝑠, 𝒶𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝒓𝗲𝔰𝕥𝘳𝘢𝙞𝑛𝖊𝔡 𝓱𝚞𝘨?!?!?

Natasha Liu Bordizzo is a good actress, don't get me wrong. I love her as Sabine and I know she's capable of so much. But she was given direction to be understated and play it cool.

And that was a huge mistake.

And I know that it was a directorial / showrunner note to play it that way because we get the exact same scene mirrored when Ezra and Hera are reunited at the end!!

Mother-figure and the youngest member of her pack, casually meandering toward each other after one of them was presumed dead... y'know, as you do...

4. Let Your Actors Show Some Emotion, Please!

If I were in Sabine's shoes, I would imagine the weight of the entire galaxy would be on my shoulders as I made one sacrifice after the next for the chance -- not the certainty, but the mere chance -- that it would all be worth it because I'd be reunited with my brother-in-arms.

And when it finally happened and I see him alive and well, that burden would have been lifted immediately.

I imagine I'd probably break down in tears or something. I know I'd give a much tighter, borderline aggressive and desperate hug, rather than the sort of familial greeting I offer the relatives I only sort of like at yearly events.

This was a momentous occasion! It was the absolute worst time to ask the actors to show restraint and play it cool.

[arctrooper69]

Feels Like Durasteel

The former ARC trooper and his Jedi General grieve together.

Warnings: Season 2 finale spoilers. Discussion of death and dying. Mostly hurt with a teeny bit of comfort.

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She couldn't breathe. Her knees hit the durasteel floor with a thud. This couldn't be happening.

No. I refuse. Not again.

The all too familiar agony of loss had lain in ambush, readying itself for her journey to consciousness - then it attacked without mercy.

"Where's Tech!?"

"....General"

It grasped at her as she ran from the room, ripping and tearing into her with it's heavy, piercing claws. It's poison burned through her veins as she stumbled up the ramp into the Marauder.

"When have we ever followed orders."

Her mind spun faster and faster, replaying that moment over and over again until it reached such a speed that she couldn't keep up but it continued regardless. It filled her ears, blurred her vision, and constricted her lungs.

I'm a Jedi. I'm a kriffing Jedi! I could've saved him. I could've done something. Anything. Why didn't I?

The weight on her chest was suffocating. She could no longer feel the clench of her teeth nor the cold bite of durasteel beneath her knees.

"General!?"

Footsteps. Muffled sounds of metal against metal; a cold hand providing no relief to burning skin.

She recognized Echo, though he was as hazy as everything else that was slowly closing in around her.

"Look at me! Breathe."

I can't.

I don't want to.

It's too heavy and I don't have the strength.

Everything she'd been through. Everything she'd lost. Everyone she'd lost. It was all too much.

"Come on, General! Breathe with me."

***

A spider spun a beautiful web across a shelf of datapads. She didn't mean to kill it, but it startled her and she crushed it. Her first introduction to death and one of her first lessons as a youngling.

There is no death, only the Force.

Accept it as a natural part of life and let go.

Mourn them do not. Miss them do not.

For the fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side.

Maybe that's why she felt this way. Maybe she wasn't Jedi enough. Maybe it was somehow her fault. Maybe she could've done more. Made different choices. Chosen different words. Maybe she wasn't the leader they made her out to be.

Maybe she was cursed.

Perhaps the Force could tell that she formed attachments too easily - that she loved too deeply, and expressed herself too passionately.

Maybe that was why they were all dead. Because of her.

Maybe she deserved the horror that was to be left alone again. That was why she couldn't breathe. She was alone.

***

"That's it. There you go. Breathe."

She kept her eyes down, not wanting to meet his pitying gaze.

They sat in silence, the only sounds drifted faintly in from the city outside.

She felt her head tip and almost unconsciously lean against the hard plastoid of his shoulder. Neither of them said a word.

"I..." She spoke, voice barely a whisper. She couldn't make the words come. But he knew what she meant.

"I know...."

There were no tears, there hadn't been yet and there probably weren't going to be for awhile. They both knew how this played out - each in their own ways with the common ground of an all consuming numbness.

It was a feeling that made it easier to keep going until one day you couldn't take it anymore. But that day wasn't today. It never was.

It was a process that she had down pact - allowing just a sliver of grief to slip out, tricking her brain into locking away everything else.

"I miss him too."

***

Echo. Fives. Tup. Hardcase. Just a few names - barely a shadow of the sea of troopers she called friend.

Vivian. Rylah. Sari. Pol. Ben. Her creche-mates. Friends. Casualties of war. Brothers and sisters that she grew up with - fought with, ate with, and trained with.

None of them had seen the end of the war.

The Jedi died as battlefield heroes - faces and names to be memorialized forever in stone. The clones died for the sake of a Republic that only saw them as faceless numbers.

The clones were born to die. Why wasn't she? Things would be a lot easier then.

But they were all gone, leaving her alone again in galaxy too big to understand.

***

"It's too much, Echo..." She could barely hear her own voice.

He didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

Pick up the pieces, dust yourself off. Move on. That's what he'd always told himself. That's what he'd tell himself this time too. Tech would want them to move on, right? To give meaning to his sacrifice?

He probably could - he'd been trained to do so since he popped out of the tube. But no matter the training, he was, at the end of the day, still human.

Was it the same for his General?

Most likely.

Grief had a way of disregarding the chain of command.

***

She didn't know if she would consider Echo a loss. He had come back to her, but the pain she'd felt was real. He was the first real casualty of war that she could name.

Hardcase was the first clone she'd considered her friend. He was kind. He was funny. He had tricked her into luring his Captain into a paint trap. It caught Kix instead and the medbay had never seen so much color - in both paint and language.

On Umbara, his force signature went out with a bang. Loud and explosive, just like him. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

Tup was young. Fresh-faced. He'd barely worn out the shine on his armor. He didn't deserve the way he went out - an unfortunate victim of a political ploy activated too soon. His force signature had always reminded her of the quiet calm before a storm.

She never got to say goodbye to Fives. The strong, handsome ARC trooper went out doing his duty. He died doing what he thought was right. He died trying to save his brothers. His force signature was full of light. Sometimes it flashed, pulsing like the strobe lights of a club. Sometimes it shone strong and bright with a fierce determination.

And then there was Tech...

***

The former ARC trooper and his General sat silently on the cold metal floor of the Marauder - each one slowly drowning beneath the weight of the galaxy.

"Did you know," she began quietly, "that everyone has their very own force signature?"

Echo was silent. He turned to look at her, blinking in a daze as though her voice had dragged him from the depths of an impossible whirlpool. Hearing her voice made it easier to breathe. It kept his head above the water - just barely, but that was all it took to keep from drowning.

The General's lips twitched in a fleeting, sad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, oblivious to his silent plea.

Please keep talking. I can't take the silence. I don't want to be alone.

"Even clones," she continued. "You all feel so different."

Echo leaned his head against the wall. "Oh yeah?"

She was silent and for a moment, Echo feared that she hadn't heard him. Then she spoke again.

"Tech's force signature felt a bit like durasteel."

Oh.

"What do you mean?" he shifted so that his shoulder rested against her own.

"Always strong, no matter the situation it's put in. Cold, straight edged. Sometimes sharp."

She took a shakey breath and wiped away tears she hadn't even realized she'd been crying. "But durasteel can be worked with. It's reliable. It's adaptable. With time and warmth, it can be shaped into almost any tool or mechanical part. It holds heat well, making the most bitter cold into someplace comforting. It's just...always there. Without it..."

She stuttered to a stop, afraid that if she kept going, she'd start something that she had no power to stop.

Echo felt her shaking, curling into his chest. He didn't know if she'd meant to or not but it didn't matter to him. He shifted, allowing his flesh arm to rest, wrapping around her shoulders.

She took a breath, "Without it....our ship would be in pieces. It wouldn't fly." Her voice cracked. "It wouldn't be a ship at all."

Echo was silent, once again he didn't know what to say. She was right. It did feel like that. It did feel like their squad - their family - had lost too much to continue.

"I know..." He finally said with a gravelly whisper. "I know. I won't say that we'll be ok because I don't think we will be okay for awhile." He took a breath. "But we have eachother. We have the rest of our family. We have our mission." He paused, squeezing her shoulders, "and we have an Empire to make aware that there's gonna be Hell to pay."

I'm not sure if I like this one or not... I haven't written in third person for awhile... Does third person count as x reader if there's no name mentioned? And I'm not trying to beg for attention or anything, but if you liked this, can you leave a comment please? I feel like I'm kinda losing my touch...

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[knightprincess]

Chaotic Mischief (A Star Wars Oneshot)

Warning: Fluff, Clone Humor, little bit of flirting (tiny bit of Wolffe x Jedi Reader)  Words: 4.7k 

The Build Up!

Mischief wasn't uncommon among clones, especially the Shinnies and the troopers whom had been freely allowed to become individuals. 79's during the downtime was where the ideas of mischief were thrown around. Sometimes they were as simple as pulling pranks on some poor unsuspecting soul. Other times it was far more risky, such as daring a Shinny to obtain the helmet of a superior. Something that was far harder to do than the troopers believed. Chaos was always sure to happen when the 501st were back on Coruscant, Fives and Echo were normally the ones behind it, although Jesse, Kix and Tup had also helped on occasions, Hardcase too when he wasn't too busy flirting with one of the many beautiful patrons. 

:readmore:

On the odd occasion when Rex was reunited with Cody, Thorn, Gregor, Wolffe and Howzer, things could really get interesting. The last time the six were together, a game of truth or dare happened. To say there were more dares than truths being told, was the understatement. Cody had told so many stories about Obi-Wan, the others joked about him being the inaugural member of the Obi-Wan Fan club. Thorn had been tasked with getting a kiss from the most beautiful person at the bar, of course Thorn had fun with it, why just settle for one, when all of them were beautiful in there own way. 

Gregor had stood up on the bar, doing a mini dance while stripping from his plastoid armor. All while Wolffe had generally questioned his own sanity and that of his brother. Gregor of course paid little mind to those he shared a booth with, instead reveling in the attention he got from those who enjoyed the show. Howzer on the other hand, decided to challenge almost all his clone brothers to an arm wrestling match. Even when he knew the odds weren't in his favor. Echo and Fives, making a wager. If Howzer lost against both of them. All six in the booth would have to go through with a particular dare, they had in mind to commit. Although neither gave details on what they had in mind. Without a second thought, the drunk Commanders and Captains had hastily agreed. Only to regret their decision mere seconds later when Howzer was swiftly defeated by both Arc Troopers. Although neither gave any indication on what they had in mind or when it would be put in to play. 

They did however taunt Rex about it, over their rotations on the battlefield. Never failing to remind him of the wager and dropping subtle hints of what was to come. The moment they returned to Coruscant, and found out the remaining Commanders and Captains were also back for down time, was when Fives' famous wicked grin appeared upon his lips. Echo merely shaking his head, both with dread for the reactions and to control his overactive imagination. Even more so when he remembered the discussion to involve several Jedi in the fun and games as well. 

"Put us out of misery" commented Cody, as he looked to the two Arc Troopers collectively referred to as the Domino Twins. A neon blue drink in hand as he prepared for the worst case scenario, knowing when it come to the pair, anything was possible. Even the impossible. Fives and Echo could only share an expression of pure mischief. Something that only brought more dread to the six before them. 

"You've heard of helmet switch-a-roo, right?" asked Fives, knowing the question was daft. Especially since Rex dealt with that on the battlefield let alone during down times. The last game of switch-a-roo had also included an unwilling Dogma, whom had somehow ended up with Tup's helmet. Tup himself had Jesse's, whom in turn had Fives helmet. Five's had Echo's helmet, who had Kix's one. Even Hardcase had gotten involved and worn Dogma's helmet. Although Rex had caught on, it had taken General Skywalker a little longer to realize. 

"We're daring you to the big brother. Armor Switch-A-Roo" laughed Echo, watching with amusement as the golden eyes of his brothers become flooded with concern, dread even on what they were going to be doing while wearing the armor of another. "And you'll be spending the day in each others off duty roles" quickly added the Arc Troopers, stifling a laugh when Wolffe's head hit the table, a loud groan escaping him. Of course it would be something like that. Yet the groan was in response to realizing some of them would be around the Jedi Temple and Senate, as well as the military base. 

"If we die I'm haunting the two of you" commented Gregor, a spark of amusement flashing through his golden eyes. Even more so when he realized, whomever got his armor, would have the duty of protecting a certain favored Jedi. His iconic laugh soon escaped him, especially when he knew the odds of fooling Jedi were against them. They're own General's knew them well and would surely recognize something was off. Just as the many senators roaming the senate building would notice when something was off with Thorn. 

"Do we at least get to choose who we switch with?" questioned Howzer, his head smacking against the sticky table mere moments later when both Fives and Echo had both shook their head. Denying them what would have made the game of Switch-A-Roo easier. Only now did Cody and Rex share a look of dread. Gregor once again laughed, this time nervously. Where as Thorn grabbed his bright blue drink and downed it, in an attempt to drown the horror threatening to bubble up. 

"Care to deliver the blow and tell us" slurred Thorn, watching as the duo took the helmets from the back of the booth. Choose to switch the helmets instead of using words. Although the pair, planned to tell them again in the morning, when they were nursing a hangover, if only to remind them it wasn't a nightmare but the reality they had agreed to when making the wager. 

Echo handled the helmets with care, looking closely at the individual markings. How each were different, and made them easily identifiable. Carefully he handed Wolffe, Gregor helmet, the obvious choice, as Gregor was the only one Wolffe could realistically pass as. Gregor on the other hand was given Thorn's helmet, confusion soon washed over his tired features. He'd wrongly assumed he'd receive's Wolffe's helmet in response, so was surprise to get the one belonging the Coruscant Guard. 

Rex had been the one to be receive Wolffe's helmet. A chuckle had instantly ripped from his throat, even more so when it would be obvious he wasn't the tough battle worn Commander. Cody had been given Rex's helmet, to which an instant wicked grin appeared on his lips, it being clear he knew what chaos he'd cause while dressed as his old friend and brother. Something that only brought gripping dread to Rex. Thorn on the other hand received Howzer's helmet, swearing under his breath, as it would mean he'd be in close proximity to many Jedi General's, a thought that brought both dread and of course amusement, would they take notice of the little things. Howzer on the other hand, quickly determined the only helmet left was Cody's, to which he cheered, clearly his silent prayers to the maker had been answered. 

"Remember whatever chaos you cause while wearing the others armor, has to be explained by said owner" casually spoke Fives, confirming the Jedi would be none the wiser of the mischievous antics, and would thrust ask about the odd inconsistencies should they be noticed. "Wolffe we wish you luck. Gregor is on protection duty for (Y/N) tomorrow" laughed the Arc Trooper, his laughter only growing upon hearing the growled yet muffled response. Of course they'd thrown him head first at (Y/N), he be an idiot if he thought they'd let the opportunity pass them by. After all his affection for the Jedi Knight was only known by those sharing the booth and a few others. It was a closely guarded secret Wolffe had unintentionally let slip during the last game of Truth or Dare. 

The Morning Of! 

When morning come, each of those apart of the mischief groaned. Wolffe in particular found himself with confusion. Why did he have Gregor's Commando armor? Where was his own?. He soon noticed the little light in the top corner of his datapad blinking, sighing as he carefully placed Gregor's helmet to the side and grabbing the small device. Instantly regretting the decision upon seeing a video message from Fives there. 

"So that wasn't a nightmare" commented Wolffe, throwing the pad on his bunk before once again reaching for Gregor's helmet. Carefully studying it, the many markings scattered all over it, even a few scorch marks, the fading yellow paint around the visor, even the bright blue light to appear, when held in a certain way. The battle worn commander, taking notice of how heavy the helmet felt compared to his own, even the roughness beneath his fingers. 

"How the kriff does Thorn see in this thing" voiced Gregor, walking into the nearby desk, as he flicked at the black painted shade over the top of the visor. The commando's words pulling a rare chuckle from Wolffe. The commander amused by Gregor holding his arms out in an effort to gain stability while wearing the foreign helmet, and making his way over to the spare bunk without tripping or bumping into anything else. "I saw Rex, poor bugger, looks ridiculous wearing your armor" joked the Commando, taking off Thorn's helmet just in time to witness Wolffe display his signature eye roll. "It kind of looks like Rex shrunk in the dryer" laughed Gregor, receiving another chuckle from Wolffe, clearly the battle worn commander could imagine it. 

"Makes you wonder what the others are going to be like?" questioned Wolffe, suspecting the others would probably have a better fit, especially Cody, whom had Rex's armor. Howzer too could probably get by without much trouble with Cody's armor. "I'm expecting Thorn to complain about not having a kama" added the commander of the wolf pack, recalling Thorn asking the night before how Cody, Howzer and Gregor could operate without one. Even pointing out both Arc Troopers to issue the daring mischief were in ownership of one. 

"Oh he's already started. Stated he felt naked without one" laughed Gregor. As if on cue, Thorn walked passed, stating he already missed not wearing the belted cape, even how lost he was without it. His next words were asking Gregor to take care of his precious kama while impersonating him for the day. 

Cody, Rex and Howzer soon appeared behind Thorn, all but scaring him into the small room completely. Gregor's laughter ringing out as Wolffe also offered a chuckle, but that was more to see Rex practically drowning in his armor. Gone was the dark blue markings, instead he donned the familiar grey wolf insignia. It was odd for Wolffe to see his armor on another, although he soon reminded himself it was only for a few hours, then all would be back to normal again. 

"I feel like a kid wearing their parent's clothes" admitted Rex, once again re-adjusting one of the shoulder plates, carefully placing Wolffe's helmet on the desk. 

"You look like a kid wearing their parents clothes" commented Wolffe, amusement flashing in both his golden eye and dull cybernetic one. Thorn chuckling breaking the silence quickly, as Cody mentioned he wanted to take a picture to remember this. 

"Don't forget we have to think of something to say if we're caught" reminded Howzer, shuddering to think that was a possibility. At the same time he knew the risks were high, some of them were around observant senators, others around the Jedi, whom could likely sense when something was amiss. "And to explain everything tomorrow" 

"Already got mine" announced Thorn, chuckling although not elaborating any further. Wolffe piped up mere seconds later confirming he too had something in mind for explaining everything the following day, although even he'd admit explaining why his armor didn't have its normal snug fit was going to be a little more difficult. Cody also hinted he had something in mind, as did Rex whom could already predict what Cody was going to get up to. 

"Have fun flirting with (Y/N), Wolffe" remarked Cody, only receiving a huffed growl from the commander in question. It being clear he regretted revealing that secret, even more so when his brothers so often teased him about it. Even General Plo did although he did so in an encouraging way, almost as if he knew something others didn't. "Why does (Y/N) need protecting anyways, she's a bad-ass Jedi Knight" asked the commander of the 212th, finding it odd a Jedi with (Y/N)'s reputation would need protection. 

"Targeted by Dooku and some separatist leaders. Her cover was blown the last time she went on an assignment to protect Senator Amidala" explained Gregor, revealing the truth few knew of. "(Y/N) and Senator Amidala could pass as sisters, hence why (Y/N) had posed as her during a previous assignment. Sadly it had gone wrong, resulting in a bounty being placed on the Jedi Knight, hence her designated temple and senate duty" added the Commando, recalling (Y/N) being frustrated the last time he'd been on protection duty, she wanted to do more to help the Republic but was restricted on what she could do. 

"Alright boys, lets get this show on the road" voiced Fives from the door way. Echo leaning against the opposite side. Rex immediately noticing they'd swapped helmets again. Both Arc Troopers breaking down in laughter upon looking around the group. Thorn's grumpiness about not having a kama, Gregor practically being squished into Thorn's armor. Rex's almost drowning in Wolffe's, Cody attempting to straighten Rex's kama, while Wolffe shifted uncomfortably in Gregor's armor. Howzer on the other hand, seemed content on messing with the visor shade on Cody's helmet, almost as if he was trying to re-adjust it a little. 

The Mischief!

"Anakin, I think there might be something wrong with Rex" spoke Obi-Wan upon reaching his former padawan, concern ringing in his voice. At first the Jedi Knight looked confused, Rex wasn't anywhere in sight. Just as Anakin was about to voice the obvious, Rex appeared, running along and practically hugging Obi-Wan as if he was the alternative to gravity. Ahsoka chuckled slightly, quickly whipping her hands up to stifle her amusement. 

"Seems normal to me, maybe a little more caf than usual" announced Anakin, chuckling as Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in suspicion. The Jedi master untangling himself from Rex, recalling the time he'd had to do the same with Cody weeks before hand. The moment Obi-Wan walked away, Rex got his datapad out and chased after Obi-Wan, asking him for an autograph. Leaving behind a slightly confused Anakin and Ahsoka in a fit of laughter. Plo Koon chuckling to see it, although he didn't voice he had long since worked out what was going on, instead choosing to allow the mischief to continue. 

"Master Plo" called Ahsoka, upon controlling her fit of giggles and regaining some composure. "Are any other clones acting oddly?" asked the Padawan, recalling seeing Commander Wolffe wrangling the 501st boys earlier, she'd never seen them behave so quickly, although Fives, Echo, Jesse, Tup and Kix seemed to be the exception, giggling like school children in the corner of the mess hall. 

"Howzer seemed to be fond of causing confusion and chaos in the debriefing earlier" commented Plo, recalling the Captain had been hyperactive, almost skipping around the room. WIndu had practically grabbed his shoulders and all but forced him to stand still, not that it worked, within seconds Howzer was moving around again, twirling on the spot and practically bouncing off the walls. He'd started singing at one point. 

"Rex, Howzer. Who's next?" questioned Anakin, almost dreading the response he'd get. "Maybe they switched the caf brand again. Rex always did say the last one tasted like droid oil" commented the Jedi Knight in hopes of explaining everything. Although if there was more than the two it would be harder to explain it. 

"What's your reasoning for Wolffe deflating?" asked Ahsoka, seeing the confusion to pass over Anakin's features. Plo on the other hand chuckling slightly, refusing to give it away he'd worked out what was going on, instead he'd found himself with curiosity whom else was involved and the explanations each come up with. Particularly Howzer whom had to explain the debriefing. 

"Looks like Thorn's having a good day" commented Padme, upon joining the group of Jedi down on the many halls. She'd come at the request of master Yoda, although it appeared to be a troublesome time. She'd passed many padawan's and younglings seemingly lost and confused about where they were going. Just as she'd bared witness to Howzer running away from Windu after tapping him on the shoulder and shouting "Tag your it".  

Within seconds of the words leaving Padme's lips, Commander Thorn come waltzing down the hall, signing loudly and occasionally twerking. He'd thrown his hands up several times, the contents of the mug with Fox's name penned on long since gone everywhere. A few padawan's had been pulled into a dance, as a few masters had too. Each seemingly taken by surprise. "He was like that at the senate building as well. Flirted with senator Chuchi" laughed the Senator of Naboo. A smile on her lips to see the battle worn troopers seemingly having fun, a rare but welcome sight. 

"Let me love you" called Rex, as Obi-Wan ran back down the long hall. The captain hot on his heels. Ahsoka once again bursting in to fit of giggles, as a few other younglings did too. Some of the masters looked confused as to what was going on, most shaking their heads with a little amusement before continuing. Even (Y/N) couldn't help the laughter to escape her, she'd always had a love for mischief. 

"Your not going to do anything out of the ordinary are you, Gregor?" asked Obi-Wan when he stopped to catch his breath, hiding near one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard below. "I don't think I can take any more oddities today. First Cody's memory loss, now Rex" added the Jedi Master, still trying to wrap his head around Cody's apparent memory loss. Maybe it was the hit to the head during the prior battle, or the alcohol from the night before. Either way it was unsettling, although his loyal commander seemed to have some whereabouts. Keeping the boys of the 212th in line. 

"No sir" responded Gregor, his response coming a little too quickly. "Just doing my duty protecting the Princess Jedi here" added Gregor attempting to act normally, although he knew some of his actions could be explained away by lasting damage from previous head injuries. Obi-Wan soon poked his head around the corner again, quickly dodging back when Rex passed by asking those around if they'd seen the negotiator. Dread filled Obi-Wan when another Jedi Master pointed right at him, causing him to dart from his position and around the nearest corner. 

Howzer coming around the same corner moments later, shortly followed by a confused Mace Windu. Padme shaking her head slightly, as she regained some of her lost composure. Never had she seen the temple in such disarray, although she would admit it was nice seeing a less professional side of the peacekeepers. Howzer's voice soon rang out through the hall as another comment escaped him. "Gonna catch me?" His comment more of a question towards the Jedi Master behind him. 

"Thorn, where's my mug" yelled Fox, storming down the hall towards the other commander. Thorn had since stopped singing and dancing, instead acting scared as he held up the ordinary white coffee mug. Although Fox's name had since been crossed out, being replaced with Thorn's own name. Thorn soon skipped off down the hall, giggling like a school girl as he all but taunted Fox with the ordinary white mug. Ignoring Fox yelling at him to come back and all but swearing about losing the mug again. 

"And that's my cue" commented Gregor before throwing (Y/N) over his shoulder and walking off. Plo chuckling by the shock squeal to escape the Jedi Knight. Where as Padme and Ahsoka resorting to looking to each other for confirmation, at least to ensure they'd both seen Gregor pick up and all but run off with (Y/N). Anakin on the other hand blinked a few times, beginning to question his own sanity and that of the troopers around him. Slowly he was becoming suspicious, who else was going to act like they'd been hypnotized to act like kids, were his Jedi brethren going to start acting like it too? 

"Pretty good view of chaos from up here" commented (Y/N), as she attempted to get comfortable over Gregor's shoulder. Well over Wolffe's shoulder. Although she hadn't voiced it, she was well aware Wolffe was in Gregor's armor, her senses not failing her. The arm securing her legs in place, only tightening as she attempted to wiggle around to gain comfort. 

"Not a bad view from this end either" commented Gregor, finding himself glad for the thick armor, as he was sure he would have felt (Y/N)'s foot, thud against his thigh had he not be clad in plastoid. 

"If I didn't know any better Captain. I would have thought you were flirting" spoke (Y/N) 

"If I didn't know any better I would say you were enjoying it" responded Gregor, placing her back on her feet upon reaching the destination of the courtyard. The rare occasion where it was quiet and as normal tranquil. 

"Should I ask why you brought me here?" asked (Y/N), moving to tidying her messed up hair, and straighten out her robes. Gregor on the other hand moved to sit on the steps, in front of the tree, ignoring the benches close by. 

"Meditate" retorted Gregor, not bothering to turn around to face her. Although he suspected there would be a response shortly. 

"Is that an order?" commented (Y/N), moving to sit at his side. 

"Yup" 

"I'm known to bend orders" laughed (Y/N), knowing there was truth behind her words. Although her former Jedi Master Plo Koon, always said she had a talent for still getting the job demanded from her done. She still got the needed results even if she did go about it a little differently.

"This will be the first you'll obey" replied Gregor, a playful tone to his voice. 

"What makes you think that?" whispered (Y/N) when she was close enough, there was no doubt he'd hear her. 

"Cause I asked nicely Princess" breathed Gregor. Almost surprised when the almost famous Jedi Knight seemed to concede and do as she was told, the words Roger Roger escaping her in a sarcastic tone. "Care to accompany me to 79's tonight?" 

"Maybe" cheekily responded (Y/N). "Would be nice to see you in your own armor and without said helmet" commented the Jedi Knight, a grin appearing across her lips as she peered over. Seeing as Wolffe stiffened inside Gregor's armor. "Not to worry Commander, my lips are sealed" 

"Have to work on that later" flirted Wolffe, as he settled back into the act of being Gregor, imitating his brother's famous laugh mere seconds later. Once again (Y/N) peered over to him, suppressing a chuckle as she attempted to regain her focus. Although it seemed to be a lost course at this point. 

The Aftermath

When it come to explain the events of the day before. Some found it far easier than others. Thorn had simply explained it away as having too much caf that morning. He been hyperactive and in the mood to continue his running war with Fox for the prize coffee mug. He explained the flirting with Senator Riyo Chuchi as finding her particularly beautiful the day before. 

Wolffe had simply said he'd lost a wager to Rex and had thrust agreed to keep the boys of the 501st in check. As for his armor not fitting properly, he mentioned something about Wrecker playing a prank on him, payback for something to have taken place at 79's before the last deployment. 

Cody too had a simple explanation. He'd mentioned he'd visited the medbay upon returning to Coruscant after the last rotation on the battlefield. The headache combined with the hangover of all hangovers. He'd managed to keep the boys in check but his memory was spotty. Thankfully Obi-wan had brought the excuse and let it go after a few days of ensuring he had no after effects from the injury. 

Rex on the other hand, almost chocked on his morning caf to learn what Cody had gotten up to in his armor. Although he'd been thankful for his explanation fitting with what had taken place. He'd simply said he'd joined the Obi-Wan fan club, after hearing Cody endless go on and on about how great the Jedi Master was. Cody had attempted to hide behind his datapad, covering his heated cheeks of embarrassment. Of course Rex would say that. 

Gregor on the other hand struggled to come up with something when faced with explaining Wolffe's actions to (Y/N). He tripped over his words multiple times before the Jedi Knight had put him out of his misery. Revealing her knowledge of the mischievous dare each had taken part in and thrust knew Wolffe had been her protect the day prior. (Y/N) had spent time reassure Gregor following it, even helping him to come up with something should another Jedi question him. 

Howzer almost had a heart attack upon finding out what Thorn had done the day before. He'd almost throttled the Commander to have impersonated him. No flimsy excuse was going to get passed Windu on this one. Nor the other Jedi to have been apart of the briefing. Eventually Howzer settled for being influenced by Rex, Thorn and Gregor, as well as having too much caf that morning. Sending the younglings in the wrong direction had been put down to a light hearted joke, after all everyone knew Howzer had a soft spot for kids. 

Echo and Fives on the other hand managed to get hold of the records from the Senate building, Jedi Temple and Military base. Laughing to no end, especially seeing how Gregor had also played silly sods with the civvi medics and admirals while impersonating Thorn. No one had been safe from the chaos Gregor had caused. The recordings of Thorn impersonating Howzer throughout the Jedi Temple were just as funny, especially when Kix pointed out some of the younglings and padawan's had also played along with the game of tag. 

Jesse's favorite recording had been of Cody impersonating Rex yelling "Let me love you" while chasing Obi-Wan down the hall. Seeing an array of emotions pass over Anakin's features had brought him to tears with laughter. The blank look, turning to confusion, questioning his own sanity, slight amusement, back to questioning his own sanity then finally settling on enjoying the chaos.

Kix had been the one to point out, both Plo Koon and (Y/N) had likely figured it out but had opted to keep the truth a well guarded. Something Wolffe later confirmed at 79's, (Y/N) also verifying it in her own words, just as she revealed Aalya Secura and Ahsoka had also worked out something was up, but not said anything. Instead both women happy to watch as chaos unfolded. (Y/N) also corroborating to both Echo and Fives, neither Obi-Wan or Anakin were none the wiser about the mischief to test them, just as the unsuspecting victim of Mace Windu had yet to truly put the pieces to together. Even Master Yoda seemed to be content on keeping the truth a guarded secret for now. 

Tup had asked for the security recordings, intending on making a few videos of the chaos and sending them to the six to have taken part. He'd also congratulated Fives and Echo on masterminding the whole thing. The duo known as the Domino Twins cementing themselves as the most mischievous pair, thrust finally achieving their goal of overtaking Waxer and Boil. Although both knew the pair from the 212th Legion would eventually fire back in an effort to regain their lost titles. 

[halfagonyandhope]

when the skies catch fire │ch. 33

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

He’s knows it’s a nightmare, but the thought provides little comfort.

Obi-Wan ducks behind a sand pillar, unable to see past a meter or so due to - is it smoke? Mist? He trips but manages to catch himself before he tumbles, but the sharp movement stretches his scar tissue and he hisses. He steadies himself against the pillar and glances down at the reason for his near-fall: a cracked exoskeleton, any soft tissue long since decomposed.

Geonosian, he realizes.

He hadn’t, of course, been back to Geonosis since before his exile with Satine. He knows he’s got trauma enough from Geonosis alone to fill a shelf at the Jedi Archives - if the Archives even exist anymore - but those particular traumas have been low enough on his triage list that he hasn’t even begun to address them.

Obi-Wan reaches for his lightsaber, but his saber is not on his hip.

“Obi-Wan,” says a voice, and he can’t place which direction it comes from, but he can still place the source - Dooku.

His master’s master, the man who’d held him hostage and then sentenced him to death.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes.

“I can sense your fear, Obi-Wan,” says Dooku’s voice. “Qui-Gon didn’t teach you how to use it. A pity.”

Obi-Wan inhales deeply and tries to prevent himself from choking on the smoke.

“It’s made you weak,” says Dooku. “You’ve broken. Perhaps Qui-Gon was wrong to speak highly of you.” The voice pauses, and when it speaks again, somehow it’s closer. “Perhaps now you’ve realized you were wrong as well? To turn down my offer? I could have shown you how to harness that fear.”

Obi-Wan mouths the words, as though speaking them aloud will be discovery and a death sentence. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; and hate leads to suffering.

“Incorrect again.” Somehow, Dooku has heard his thoughts. “Anger leads to agency. To power. The Jedi were just too buried in their own antiquated rituals to understand.”

“I don’t want power!” hisses Obi-Wan, unable to stop himself.

“You are a liar,” says Dooku, and somehow Obi-Wan can hear the sneer in his disembodied words. “You think about regaining your strength with every passing day. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since you returned from Mandalore. Admit it, Obi-Wan. The Jedi were wrong. They dug their own graves, covered themselves with sand, and then waited while they suffocated. Admit it, Obi-Wan.”

“I’ve never shied from admitting my mistakes,” whispers Obi-Wan, “and there have been plenty.”

Obi-Wan has a feeling tearing his own lungs out would be less painful than this conversation. Because it’s a nightmare, yes, but the conversation is real - he’s had it with himself already more times than he can count.

He tries to breathe but ends up coughing instead.

“Obi-Wan,” says Dooku, a warning.

Obi-Wan can’t move. But then -

“Obi-Wan,” says another voice, this one different in cadence and somehow more…mechanical?

He hears footsteps upon the gravel, the sound of a lightsaber igniting. There’s a red glare behind his eyelids.

“Obi-Wan.”

He collapses against the sand pillar, wishing he could take it back, all of it - all the way back to Geonosis and that first battle.

“Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan opens his eyes.

It’s as dark as his dream, but Satine leans over him, face pale and reflecting moonlight. She’s crying, tears running down her skin to drop on his shoulders, her hands cupping his face.

“Oh gods, Ben.”

She pulls him into her arms, leaning back against the mattress. He’s not sure where exactly his sweat ends and her tears begin, but they mix together on her skin.

“I couldn’t wake you up,” she whispers, as he tries to get his breathing under control. “I’ve always been able to rouse you before.”

He can’t remember her ever sounding so terrified, save perhaps when she’d burst through the doors of his cell when he was captive on Mandalore. But he can’t trust his memories of that night.

Obi-Wan reaches up to cradle her jaw in his hand. “I’m alright,” he breathes.

She kisses him, desperately, urgently. “I feel like I’m losing you, Ben,” she says weakly. “I thought things seemed slightly better for a short time but…”

“Did I wake Léa?” he manages, not ready to deal with the implication of Satine’s words.

“She’s with Bo,” says Satine, and she pulls back for a moment. “You can’t feel that she’s not here?”

It appears that he’ll need to deal with the implications of Satine’s words whether he’s ready or not. “No,” he admits. “I can’t feel your presence in the Force, either.”

He watches her search for words, her eyes wide and wild. “I…” she says, but she begins again. “How long has this been happening?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “I haven’t been able to connect with the Force, to feel it, since Mandalore.”

“I thought you cut yourself off from the Force,” says Satine lowly.

“I think I did,” Obi-Wan says. “But now I can’t seem to forge the connection again. It’s lost.” He swallows. “I’m lost.”

His sweat is cold now, and he shivers. Satine reaches for her nightrobe and tosses it over him, then wraps her arms around his torso and hooks one leg over his hips. “You’re not lost,” she says firmly. “You are here. With me. You are my husband. Léa’s father.”

Satine shifts so she can place a hand against his heart, as though urging it to slow.

“What brought this on?” she whispers. “Stewjon?”

He shrugs, admitting he’s not sure. “I can’t feel you. I can’t feel Léa. And I didn’t feel 60,000 people lose their lives in the village where I was born.” He can’t help the way one of his hands curls into a fist. “At any other point in my life, I would have felt those voices crying out; they would have brought me to my knees. But I did not even register that there had been an attack. We were unaware until we received the message from Ahsoka.”

Satine kisses his brow.

“I’ve never not felt the Force, Satine - not even when I was a padawan. Not even before was a padawan. It has always been part of me. And now…somehow? It’s not. Who even am I without it?”

“Ben,” she whispers, and it’s an answer and perhaps also a prayer. “Oh, Ben.”

“I’m afraid,” he says.

“Me, too.”

“I shouldn’t be afraid. Some Jedi I’ve turned out to be.”

She wipes the sweat from his brow. “On Mandalore, we think of fear differently than do the Jedi,” Satine says thoughtfully. “I know you associate fear with the path to the Dark side, but for us, it’s a natural part of life. There would be no glory, no accomplishment, without fear.”

“Those do not sound like the words of a pacifist.”

“Do they not? Imagine this. The ancient Mandalorians once had to chart out my entire system. Was the task daunting? Of course. If it hadn’t been, the maps would have already been made, the routes already established. But they set out on the voyage and accomplished a great feat.” Satine reaches for his clenched hand and massages his fingers so that he unfurls his fist. “Fear doesn’t need to be a path to the Dark side. You can use it to your advantage, but only if you make sure it does not dominate your life. Of course,” she adds. “I also realize this is an incredibly idealist take on the subject of fear. It’s easier said than done, especially in cases where the trauma is as severe as yours.”

“You should have been a philosopher rather than a duchess.”

“Could I not have been both?” She kisses him again. “My point, Obi-Wan, is that you should stop fighting this fear. It is a part of you, as much as the Force has always been. You do not have to embrace it. But do not repress it. Do not repress a part of you.”

Obi-Wan presses his forehead against hers. “I worry it will be all-consuming.”

“I will not let it consume you. Nor will Ahsoka, or Padmé. Or any of our family here.”

He presses his lips to hers, one of the few times he has initiated such contact since his return. Satine responds eagerly, pressing herself against him fully, and the curves of her body feel so different from his memory. His first thought is sadness, but then he realizes he will get to discover her all over again.

Maybe he can do this. Reframe the thoughts he can, and accept the ones he cannot.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan says.

She returns the vow in Mando’a, and his shiver, for once recently, is euphoric.

“Say that again,” he begs, and she obliges, murmuring sweet nothings and everythings in her native tongue. It’s like music, in time with his heartbeat, and he’s still in the dark without the Force but he’s not alone, not now. Not with her to guide him.

His hands are too tentative for her liking, and she takes hold of one, guiding his fingers to brush against her hip and then trail up her waist. Then she rests his hand over her breast, her hands folded on top.

He can take a hint, but -

“I’m not sure if I…” he begins.

He’d blocked out most of the memories of his torture, but even if nothing sexual had taken place, he can’t imagine his body will perform now the way he’d like it to. Physically he is too weak, and psychologically he still has no idea how his mind will respond to the promise of sex.

But Satine is already shaking her head. “You are thinking about the destination and not the journey, my dear. And I care not about the destination. It is enough just to be close to you.”

And there’s nothing to do in response but to kiss her.

His lips find her mouth, her jaw, her collarbone. When she sighs, then hums, he grows braver.

“Let go,” she whispers, encouraging, sharing her courage.

 He finds a piece of himself. “Let go of you?” he quips. “Never.”

Satine tilts her head back and laughs. She’s exposed the soft skin of her neck, and he claims it with his lips, his hands moving lower.

“You are exquisite,” he says, mapping her curves and putting them to memory.

“You talk too much,” she says, pulling his lips back to her own.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

He has enough strength to hold himself steady as he helps her remove her tunic and her brassiere underneath. She strips him of his sweat-stained shirt more quickly, but then he pushes her back slightly so that he hovers over her. His upper arms shake with his weight as he shifts to move lower and press his lips against her skin.

Satine moans.

She lets him explore for some time before reaching for him, both hands wrapping around his back and pulling him down so that she supports most of his weight. Her fingers trace the scar tissue on his back, massaging where his muscles have tightened into knots.

“That feels,” Obi-Wan begins, interrupted by his own groan and catch of breath, “absurdly divine.”

Satine grins and finds his lips again.

Neither eventually find release, but - somehow - they both do.