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oceansssblue · 3 days ago

Note

Hi I’ve never done a request before, but your writing is really good.

Can you do prompt 7 Snow fight, that becomes ABO smut. Both super chaste, but finally become carnally desperate for each other now that they’re alone. They mark each other.

Alpha Rex, Omega YN.

Sure thing love! I'm honoured to write your first request 🥰 I don't use YN though, so i'll just go for neutral reader instead. Hope that's ok!

Here's a fluffy and spicy ABO Xmas oneshot for you! It took me ages to write so I hope you like it haha.

Xx, Blue.

"HOT AND COLD" – REX / GN READER 🔥💖

WARNINGS: ABO AU, alpha/omega dynamics, sex scene, breeding kink, knotting and marking and other general omegaverse things.

Life Day couldn't have caught the 501st in a better place. They had just finished a relief mision on Xerak; and stopped to refuel in Asaca IV in their way back to Coruscant. Seeing as they weren't going to be in time to spend Life Day in the Capital –much to Anakin's chagrin–, the General had decided to make a night-stop at Asaca. And he might have been dissapointed for not being able to share the festivities with a certain senator; but the 501st were ecstatic to enjoy some free time in the icy planet –a very appropiate scenery for the circumstances–.

The young Jedi had retired for the afternoon –perhaps in an attempt to catch Padme on a quick holo-call at least–; and Rex had given his men leeway as well. After an exhausting one-week long mision –with surprisingly minimal casualties–, everyone deserved to rest.

Torrent hadn't wanted to miss the oportunity, though; and after a quick nap in the cruiser, they had all but ran down the ramp to have their share of fun in the snow. With the purpose of playing a little snowfight, Rex had been recluted as well; assigned to be one of the team's captain –it couldn't have been any other way– while the Domino's took charge of the other. Some of the natborns –medics, intelligence officers, maintenance staff, etc.– had asked to join them; and that had been the tragic end for Rex's focus, for you had decided to participate as well.

Out in the battlefield, the captain had no problem on shutting his desires down and pushing his –possesive– dangerous thoughts away. You were tucked away in the safety of the cruiser, after all, carefully analysing the 501st's advances and quickly finding out alternatives to their course of action and any other problem that may had arrised with the rest of Intelligence; but here, here... Rex couldn't help but be atuned to every single thing about you. Each innocent movement, each twitch of your facial expresion. How excruciatingly sweet you smelled even with a dose of scent blockers carefully coating a protective layer over your neck glands. He wanted you so – bad.

It was unfair, really, how unbeliavably pretty you looked in your winter uniform; a basic military set shouldn't have looked that good on anyone. He was used to seing you in dark green –not that you weren't hot in that either–; but the nats snow uniform was a combination of white's and blue's, and it was such a similar palette to the 501st's colours that something inside of him rumbled in passionate aproval. You weren't just cute, though; for all you looked innocent and naive with your cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold, Rex knew the truth was very different. He had been able to watch how your mind worked in more than one tactical meeting; and kark, wasn't intelligence sexy. There was no doubt why you were Admiral Yularen's second hand –even if you were younger than most–.

Some part of Rex wished you had joined his team; but the other one rejoiced at the oportunity to see you fight. To feel that quiet fire directed at him. You were an omega, yes; but you weren't fearful nor meek, and he loved that about you. It couldn't be easy to be constantly surrounded by a majority of alphas and their often contradicting and agressive feromones; and yet you handled it stoically and beautifully.

Perhaps Rex was too excited for a simple friendly snowfight –he chuckled at the thought, dodging Jesse's snowball and laughing his ass off when Hardcase answered with one that hit him straight in the nose–; but he couldn't help it. He had felt attracted to you –liked you, and dare he even say that other big, scary words too – for far too long now; since that time when you had politely brushed his strategical idea aside and offered a better option for an incursion. Rex had observed you in surprise –you were new in the cruiser back then, and he had never heard you intervene before–; and when Admiral Yularen had agreed with you and you had shot him a sheepish, warm smile, Rex knew he was done for.

In the present time, you take revenge for Jesse; throwing a quick succesion of snowballs at Hardcase until you eventually manage to get him. Instead of showing any anger or irritation, though, his vod laughs and pushes a thumb up in the air for you. You shoot the trooper a proud smile, and Rex shakes his head in fond amusement observing the two of you.

Fifteen minutes later, the captain is proud to say he is soldiering through the little snowfight untouched. It's not that his reflexes are nothing special –though they're obviously as good as any other soldier's–; it's just that his men fortunately don't have the same aim with snowballs than with their blasters. Torrent doesn't quite like that, though; so the game shifts and somehow ends up focused around him. The Domino's team new objective is to take a hit at Rex; while the captain's own team double their efforts to protect him. It's kind of ridiculous, and Rex doesn't really want to be the center of attention in this game –as well–; but everyone seems to be laughing and having fun, so he chuckles and let them be.

His team is doing a good job protecting him –hell, Hardcase had even tackled him to save him from a snowball– until you take all of Rex's attention again. Perhaps frustrated at your team's failure, you abandon the improvised barricade the troopers had managed to put together; crawling out of safety and sprinting towards the captain, snowball clutched in hand. Rex eyebrows shoot upwards, instantly worried. This is just a game, yeah, but what the hell are you doing, exposing yourself like that?

This time, his brothers hold no sympathy. Someone points out at you with a warning shout, and the inmediate succesion of snowballs thrown at your way almost makes Rex flinch.

It's impossible for you to dodge all of them. One impacts right against your knee –perhaps with too much strength, he might need to have a chat with his vods about that later–; and it buckles, making you fall and crash against the snow unceremoniously with a pained groan. Rex is helpless to watch as you hit the back of your head in the fall; and he's already half-way towards you before he has even realised it himself.

The game stops, and silence lays heavyly between the two teams; everyone hesitantly worried about you still sprawled in the snow, not attempting to move even if to ask for the fight to stop. Rex can feel his heart trying to beat it's way out of his chest. He drops to his knees besides you, gold brown eyes flickering over every inch of your face; scent unconsciously proyecting fear and worry.

"Mesh'la, are you okay?" He tries not to pannick in front of everyone, but your eyes are closed, and...

You suddenly lurch forward, tackling his towering form to the side and quickly smearing snow on his shocked face with one hand while the other pushes his chest against the ground. You grin widely, proudly sitting on too of him; and Rex is so fucking relieved to see that you're okay that he can't help but join the laughter around him.

You laugh as well, both hands now clutching his chest plate; and Rex takes his revenge rolling the two of you around and trapping you against the snow. You squeal while trying to dodge his hand, the corner of your eyes wrinkling with happiness; but your strength is nothing compared to his, and he manages to smear a big chunk of snow over your face and neck too.

"That was a dirty move" he points out, lips turned up into a little smile.

You grin up at him, relaxing under his body and accepting your fate. You kind of deserve it.

"War is not won without some of those, dear Captain" you sing-song. "You should know".

Rex rolls his eyes –face still amused– and finally pushes his body away from yours, standing up and offering a hand to you. Panting slightly from the snowfight effort, you gladly accept it and pull yourself up to your feet; shooting a smile at him.

You try not to dwell on how good he had felt on top of you. How his body was the perfect size to make you feel small and vulnerable underneath him; how warm he felt even with his armour on, how deliciously heavy. How pleasure had zig-zaged through your legs and spine towards your crotch under the attention of his golden gaze and his overpowering relieved, happy warm scent. Masculine. Strong. Gentle. Safe. Alpha.

Yes, you try not to think about it. And fail.

Rex calls the game off –ignoring Fives' proud "that's our win for sure!"– and everyone makes their way back to the cruiser, chatting happily in little groups and joking around, spirits lifted and in a good mood. He walks by your side, a bit distracted thinking on how fucking sweet you smelled, how right it had felt to have you underneath him and looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He tries to push that aside and act normal. This is not the time to get hard and indulge in his fantasies. He can do that later; when he's good to grasp his cock in his hand and stroke himself over the edge.

They've barely made it into the main hall when another trooper comments distractedly "mm, smells good in here"; and Rex answers with an involuntary warning growl. The brothers in their inmediate vecinity stop in their tracks, turning towards him in surprise. There has never been a doubt of Rex being an alpha; but he had always managed to control his instincts better than most. For him to react like that... Well, it's certainly unusual.

You push the palm of your hand against the side of your neck, alarmed for both the trooper's comment and Rex's growl –and fuck, didn't that make you wet–; cursing at not feeling the semi-sticky texture of your scent-blocker on top of it. No wonder the clones were able to smell you...

"Officer..." Kix carefully takes a step closer to you, eyeing Rex's dangerous eyes cautiously. "Forgive me for being blunt and intrusive, but if you are in pre-heat I'd sugest for you to go back to your quarters and take a rest".

Get the fuck out of here where there are all but alphas around you, is what you hear, and you nod while blushing in embarassment.

"Y-yeah, I'll do that" you don't bother to correct his statement, not wanting to publicly humiliate yourself any further. "Thank you for your concern, Kix".

The medic nods politely, and Rex inmediately squares up his shoulders next to you.

"I'll walk you to your room" he offers, though his voice holds more finality than anything.

Kix frowns –perhaps worried about your safety– but you give the Captain a short nod and the two of you quietly make your way to your private room.

Stopping outside of your door, Rex clenches his fists and and tries not to let his thoughts linger on the knowledge of you being in pre-heat and all the wonderfull ways he could help you through it. The picture of you suffering in silence, fighting the pain and ache writhing in your bunk, your nest empty and never feeling more vulnerable and lonely that then and there, makes the clone's heart break. He wants to be with you. He wants to tell you how good you had built their nest; make you cum in his tongue until the pain melts away and fuck you in a place where, even if just momentarily, you could both call home.

But he's nothing but a diligent soldier; too polite and respectfull to ask that from you. Too afraid of offending you. Of not being able to see your warm smile directed at him any longer; even if he's only able to enjoy it from a certain distance now. He'd still chose that over nothing at all.

And so Rex swallows every desire –every wish– down and gives you a short nod.

"Take it easy, ma'am" he manages to sound firm and formal. "I'll inform Admiral Yularen that you'll be out of service for a few days for you".

Rex turns around to let you be, struggling to push his instincts aside for much longer; and pannick swells inside of you.

"No!" You impulsively snatch his wrist to stop him, eyes nervously flickering around while you confess in an embarassed whisper. "I'm not... I'm not in pre-heat".

Rex faces you in utter confusion; silently analysing your worried expresion. He breathes your scent in; closing his eyes momentarily and battleling himself. You certainly smell like it. What are you on about?

"But you..." he clears his throat, a small tick in his jaw miraculously being the only external sign of how hard it is to resist to you. "Forgive me, but you certainly smell like it?"

Your cheeks feel on fire. Oh, it is so incredibly embarassing for the reason of your burning desire to point this out out loud to you. You kind of want the floor to swallow you.

You slowly release your hold on him and try to give him a vague explanation.

"It's the snow. You smeared it on my skin and it has washed away the scent blockers, I believe".

Rex frowns.

"That explains why we're able to smell you, but it still..." he hesitates, knowing this is a far from innapropiate conversation to have with anyone, really, and certainly not with you. "That trooper could notice it from meters away with his bucket on. Are you sure your heat isn't around the corner?"

"It's you" you blurt, throwing all caution away.

He's too intelligent to know there's something else going on. And you're out of excuses. Tired of hiding the permanent attraction you have for this handsome, brave man in front of you. The only alpha you've come across that has really made you feel week in the knees. That you'd want to bond with.

"Me?" Rex asks, stunned, unconciously taking a step forward and crowding you against the metal door.

You feel a rush of warmth flowing through you.

"Yes" you swallow your nervousness down, tilting your chin up slightly to look up at him. "You turn me on as quick as a lightsaber ignition whenever you get close to me. And when you holded me under your body out there..."

You pause and confess.

"Captain, this is my body's usual reaction to you, really. You all just haven't noticed because I'm usually quick to hide it under another layer of blockers".

Rex shudders. This is all he has ever asked for. This is the only thing he had ever wanted for himself, the only selfish thing the clone wanted to keep and have in a life of servitude protecting others. Hearing those words coming out of your mouth... Fuck, Rex has never listened to something more beautiful.

"So you want me?" He passionately asks, carefully observing your reaction while he gives in and gently presses you against the door, his body covering yours. "You're telling me that if I wanted to carve myself a place deep inside of you, you'll let me?"

Rex holds your face in his palms, caressing both cheeks with his thumbs reverently, his eyes filled with raw desire and need. His closeness –his words– makes you dizzy with your own. Your breathing grows heavier and your heart speeds up inside your chest.

You can feel the captain's warm breath over your parted lips; almost whispering to you.

"That I could knot you, if I wanted to, right now?"

The image sends a gush of wetness between your legs; and your whole resolve breaks down with the question –the petition, the offer–, an involuntary whimper escaping your throat while you all but impatiently scratch your nails in his shoulder plates.

With just a few words, he has turned you from a controlled, picture-perfect officer to a mess of desire and want.

"Yes" you almost pant. "Yes, fuck, Captain, please".

Rec groans; closing his eyes shut for a few seconds, controlling himself for not to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here and there, out in the corridor where everyone can see you, and tenderly presses his forehead against yours.

One hand goes down to clutch at your squirmy waist. With his other, he thumbs your lower lip.

"If we're going to do this, I don't want titles in here" he finally breathes out, pulling back just enough to lock his eyes on yours. Then, he sort of promises "If you're going to moan something, it's going to be my name".

He searches for an answer in your face; and you inmediately nod wide-eyed, impossibly turned on and excited. You want him to rail you. You want to ravage him.

"Yes, Capt... Yes, Rex".

The way you say his name, so lovingly, so reverent...

Rex slams his hand on the door lock, and gestures you inside with a small, almost defiant tilt of his head.

"Come here, then".

You're not exactly shy –you are confident and sharp most of the time–, but finding yourself completely naked in front of the most handsome man you've ever layed eyes upon, no matter how turned on you are, is not an easy task. You're okay with how you look, with your body; but he's... Outerwordly. His bronze skin, golden brown eyes, trained muscles and strong jaw, war and tenderness mixed in every inch of his body... You bite down onto your bottom lip nervously.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" He asks, noticing your hesitance, knees spread from where he's sitting in the edge of your bed –from where he had watched you undress–, naked as well.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other; goosebumps over your skin.

"Not exactly" you answer quietly, shooting him a tiny smile, not really able to explain to him what you're feeling. "Just... Vulnerable".

Rex smiles too; and it's the softest, warmest thing you've had the chance to see on him.

"Fantasy and reality can be quite different. No matter if you've desired this as much as I've done, it's nothing but normal to be a little nervous. Perhaps even scared" he makes a small pause, and after his eyes flicker over every inch of your face, adds just as firmly as he commands in battle. "But I can promiss you are safe with me. I will never disrespect you or treat you unconsiderably. I will listen to you and cherish you just like you deserve".

Warmth blossoms inside your heart. Your eyes blurr. You had thought that Rex only wanted to have fun with you, to enjoy casual, meaningless sex –no matter how good it felt–; but now, after those lovely words and the way he is looking at you, you think that perhaps he wants something else. Something more.

"Come here" he asks again, this time offering his hand to you. "I think you'll feel better skin to skin instead of standing this far away and feeling scrutinized".

You pad forward, and accept his hand with a gentle squeeze. Rex tugs you towards him; and you slowly move to sit down on his lap, his arms inmediately wrapping around your waist.

"You are so beautiful" he murmurs, looking up at you as if he's nothing but enthraced and enamoured with you. "Mesh'la".

You can't help yourself; and you dip down to catch his lips with yours in a quick, heartfelt kiss. I love you, your soul whispers.

Rex hums in delight and answers back with the same passion, deepening the kiss into something sweeter and slower. I love you, he thinks in the safe barriers of his mind.

His warm hands softly travel through your body in a gentle caress; up and down your back, playing with your sides, then slowly dipping forward to brush against a nipple.

You moan quietly in response, growing restless, unconciously starting to move on top of him. Your hands are clasped behind his neck, lips parted in a pleased expresion. You feel sort of powerful, with this strong man patiently sitting under you.

"That's right, beautiful" he hums as he watches you, cheeks starting to flush naturally. "Just enjoy yourself, have your fun on top of me".

His hands tighten on either side of your hips; encouraging you to find more desperate friction against him.

You whimper, feeling his hard cock twitch underneath you; growing more wet as seconds tics by. When you're almost shaking with need and look up at Rex with a clear request on your eyes, he nuzzles his nose against the side of your cheek and asks "Put me inside of you, baby".

You are quick to comply; holding his throbbing cock with one hand while taking a firm hold on his shoulder with the other. Rex stabilises you while you sit down on him; sinking down on his thick, hard cock with a long drawled moan. You close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling; on how good he stretches you and how wonderfull it feels to being filled by him. Full. Your alpha, deep inside of you.

You hum in pleasure,resting your forehead against him; and Rex caresses the sides of your hips tenderly.

"You feel so fucking good, mesh'la" he mumbles, voice hoarse, memorising this moment to come back to it whenever he wants. "So warm and tight".

You kiss him, unable to word your feelings out loud –all coherent thoughts have seemed to dissapeared from your mind, too struck at how good he feels– and slowly start to move your hips in little circles and forward and back on top of him.

Rex groans and holds you tigther against him; half-hugging you to his chest while you take your time riding him. It's... So much. The way his thick cock slides in and out of you is delicious; how you fit around him like a glove. His warm body pressed to yours, the way his hands cling to you, his breath stuttering against your skin... It's what you had wanted and more.

Rex progressively losses himself in you. You look gorgeous on top of him, moaning and whimpering softly and sinking your nails on his shoulders; divided by wanting to hug him closer or fuck yourself faster on his cock. He watches how your face shifts with pleasure and concentration, how your lips part open in a silent gasp. Your scent is floating around him –hot, satiesfied, needy, happy omega–; and he moans, breathing it all in.

The alpha in him growls, pleased with your beautiful compliance but aching to have you underneath him, to being able to properly give you his cock –pump you full, breed you, mark...–; and Rex pants and quickly moves the two of you around. You end up laying on the bed with a quiet gasp; the man inmediately adjusting on top of you and pushing his cock inside of you again.

Your face shifts from surprise to pleasure once more; and you accept him, spreading your legs wider, with a broken moan. Rex answers with a low rumble that pleases your omega in all the right ways and holds the back of your lower thighs with his hands, pushing up under your knees. It folds you further into yourself; allowing him to fuck you deeper, and you can't help but whimper at how good he's doing you. His thrusts are rough and deep, almost punishing you with his strength; but also slow and passionate, personal.

Your gazes lock and you feel so many different things you don't even have the time to sort it through right now. You clench on him, and Rex groans, eyes fluttering shut, fingers digging into your thighs.

He feels his mind growing dizzy; every rational thought blurring together and mixing with his deepest desires. He speeds up, sinking his cock in your wetness and panting from the pleasure and effort; proud at the little gasps, moans and whimpers you answer him with.

Omega. Happy. Omega. Safe. Omega. Needy. Omega. Hot. Omega. Breed. Omega. Love. Omega. Mine. Omega. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The words resonate in his head; and Rex is not completely aware of him echoing them out loud.

"Mine. Mine. Forever. Breed you with my pups. Ours" he's mumbling in a trance. "Omega. Sweet, fierce Omega. Mine, mine, mine".

You feel more wetness gathering inside of you for Rex to coat his cock in; impossibly turned on by the words escaping from his lips. You can tell his alpha's side is getting the best of him; and fuck, aren't you karking glad. You've dreamt about this. About him fucking you, breeding you, claiming you.

Your omega side cries in need and happiness. You're drunk in his pleased, proud, possesive masculine scent.

"Please, please, please..."

You push your head back, arching in the bed and offering him your neck; and Rex moans loudly and dips down to take a long lick on your offered scent glands, swollen and tingly.

You whine, clenching on him; and he mumbles more of his dirty thoughts, mind floating in your sweet scent. In the way you had offered it to him.

"Bite you... Wanna' bite you..." he whispers hoarsely, face hiding in your neck while he continues moving. "Sink my teeth in here and hold you in place while I push my warm cum inside of you..."

"Please, alpha" you finally resort to beg. "Mark me, bite me. Please, Rex".

The clones' hips stutter; the words coming from your lips surely nothing but a fantasy, a spur on the moment thing. But he searches for the truth in your eyes; and in those wide, loving, hopeful eyes, he understands it's nothing but your true wish. Your true desire.

"You want us to bond?" He still manages to ask, nuzzling his nose under your chin affectionately.

"Yes, Rex, please" you caress his sweaty cheek with one hand, eyes blurring with happy tears. "I want you to be my alpha. Just you. Please, Rex, please..."

Rex shuts his eyes, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as his end gets closer.

"My fucking little omega, all mine, mine, mine..." he chants, his hips snapping against yours, the beginning of a knot tugging at your hole. "Gonna' mark you, breed you, knot you..."

You moan and offer your neck to him again, clenching impossibly tighter around him. He whines, and you know he's just as close to cumming as you are.

You cup his face between your hands, and beg him once more, conffident and sure.

"Please, Rex".

And Rex moans, tugs your hair back with one hand and sinks his teeth into your neck, bitting deeply right on your scent glands.

A rush of warmth and pure electrical pleasure zaps through your veins; the bond taking place and tying your hearts together, a mated alpha/omega pair.

Your walls squeeze Rex's cock; and you cum with a cry, the feeling multiplied by his knot growing inside of you. He whines and releases your neck, panting harshly. His hips stutter, and after a few more unstable thrusts he's cuming deep inside of you, filling you with a big load of warm cum. You enjoy every single drop of it; sighing in happiness and relief and swimming in ecstasy at the fresh bite mark on your neck. You can't even focus on the blood or the pain; it's nothing compared to do knowledge of finally being his.

Rex drops his body weight on top of you; a happy, exhausted sigh escaping his lips while he rests his head on your chest. His scent is excited and cheerfull, pleased and overwhelmed; tender and relieved. A hint of guiltiness.

Ignoring how exhausted you are –you're going to need a pair of hours to recover from this–, you move your arms and hug him to your body; legs wrapping around his hips as well so it's easier to not hurt any of you with his knot is still inside of you. You caress his back affectionately, letting him know you're still sure of yourself know that the sex is over and that there's nothing to regret.

Rex pulls his head back slowly and carefully and nuzzles his nose against yours.

"I love you. You were perfect, thank you, I love you".

It's clear his head is still a little fuzzy –as is yours–; and you shoot him a pleased, tired smile, drawing little caresses on his naked back.

"Love you too" you mumble, pecking him softly. "Strong, perfect alpha".

Rex rumbles low in his throat, pleased; and he pushes your chin up with a hand, making space so that he can tend to your wound. He licks slowly and carefully. It sends after-sparks to your toes, and you squirm unconsciously.

Rex grins.

"Perfect little omega. Mine, mine, mine. Finally mine".

THE END.

This is not checked for errors –i'm posting this at 2am as soon as I've finished it– so forgive my mistakes!

On another note, I just wanted to let you readers know about my closest future proyects:

– I'm currently working in a Tech!mer request (the second part to the 100celeb oneshot I already wrote and published for him), and it will be posted next.

– After that, I'll continue writing the Demon!echo fanfic, which I'm very excited for.

– And after THAT, I'll be finally reopening any free ideas requests. Remember you can always check if I'm requesting or not in the announcement in my main masterlist.

happy new year and take care! Xx, Blue.

22 notes · View notes

ecoaffinity · 3 days ago

Text

Starting a new series that I already know I'm going to have too many feelings for

Event Horizon

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!Reader / Rex x fem!reader

Tags/Warnings: romance, angst, action/adventure, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, forbidden romance, eventual smut, named!reader, minor Obi-Wan x Reader

Summary: Your entire life, you’ve struggled to be the perfect Jedi your Master saw in you. When the rumored rise of the Sith threatens to throw the entire galaxy into turmoil, you’re left scrambling to hold onto the teachings that have begun to feel increasingly hollow. It isn’t until a fateful encounter with a clone soldier called Rex, and the feelings that he stirs within you, that you begin to question everything you’ve ever known. (Post!TPM → Post!Order 66)

A/N: This is definitely a first for me, but I’ve been obsessed with this idea for a while and needed to get it out. I have about 22 chapters written so far, and I think it’ll be 40ish total? Plenty of drama, action, yearning, and some humor to come. Rex will show up soon, gotta set the stage a little first.

If you’d like to be notified when I post new chapters please join my taglist or leave a comment. There’s a new question for tag preferences now. 💙

Chapter One: Everything Burns

Chapter WC: 3,741

Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Naboo, 32 BBY

They waited until nightfall to light the pyre.

The light, the heat of it, was nearly too much to bear, but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward. To watch as the flames climbed higher and higher, smoke licking the top of the dome, ash and embers drifting like the stars overhead, as the body of Master Qui-Gon Jinn turned to dust.

You feel something burning within your own chest and press a fist against it. The pain of losing a friend, of watching his body go up in smoke and flame, was one you'd known too well before, and would likely know again, many times over.

It still hurts.

Through the flames, you can just make out the shape of the young man across from you. Obi-Wan. He'd barely spoken since his Master's death at the hands of that Sith. Had barely even met your eyes. It's as if he's shut down completely, his emotions all carefully tucked away, locked behind a door, hidden deep beneath the surface.

Your eyes meet briefly, and you can see the tears on his cheeks, glistening in the firelight.

A part of you aches for him, and for yourself, too. For the pain of the loss, and the uncertainty of what would come next. You knew from your Master that Qui-Gon had tried to warn the Council about the Sith, but that they had refused to listen. What will happen now, you wonder, that the Sith had returned? Will the Jedi accept the truth?

As you look away, you see Obi-Wan do the same. His gaze drifts to the ground, his hands curled into fists at his sides. The boy standing silent next to him notices and puts a hand on his arm. Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon's new Padawan, now Obi-Wan's responsibility.

When you hear Obi-Wan sniffle, you force your feet to move. Ignoring the watchful eyes of the Council members in attendance, your own noticeably absent, you slowly round the pyre until you're on his other side where he can't see you. You stand there, close enough to feel the heat from the flames, but not so close as to be uncomfortable.

"It wasn't your fault," you tell him quietly.

Your fingers brush his. You don’t expect him to return the gesture, and he doesn’t. Not for several long, agonizing moments. And then you feel it, his fingertips, brushing yours.

Your eyes dart toward him, but he's still looking away. Still, his hand shifts, his palm pressing against yours. The only sign that he is acknowledging your presence at all, the only sign he feels anything beyond the nothingness he forces himself to affect.

You’d always believed Obi-Wan to be infallible, perfect in the eyes of the Order, the perfect student. The perfect Jedi. He's always been two steps ahead of you, two steps ahead of everyone, always a witty quip at the ready, always knew the answer when called on, always followed the rules, always the one you admired the most. Even now, he's trying so hard to stay calm, to be the perfect Jedi.

You’d argued about it, before he left for Naboo. He had accused you of being jealous. He'd been right.

You envied his natural skill, his ability to stay cool and collected even when you couldn't. He was so calm, so rational, everything a Jedi was supposed to be, everything you were not, and you had let it get in the way. You had let it push you further apart, until you had lost the closeness you'd once shared.

It wasn’t until he left, until you heard about the death of his Master, that you realized just how badly you'd misjudged him. He is not infallible. He is not the perfect Jedi. He is not, despite all appearances, the ideal of calm. He is only a man, doing his best, doing what he believes is right, and failing, just like the rest of you. And though you had tried, you had never really succeeded at staying mad at him, either.

Now, standing beside him, you want to comfort him, to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay. But it isn't true. It won't be. Because nothing will ever be okay again, not after this.

So instead, you just stand there, letting your hand rest in his, and you try to think of anything else you could say.

The funeral comes to an end, and the pyre is left to burn itself out. You allow yourself to watch as the fire dies down, until nothing remains but a pile of ashes. The others are leaving, the Council members going off together to no doubt discuss what was to come next. You don’t see your Master among them. Her small form is nowhere to be seen, and you can't help the pang of betrayal you feel at her absence.

Where was she? Yaddle had told you she'd be here. She'd promised.

As the last of the flames flickered out, Obi-Wan takes a shuddering breath, and slowly, reluctantly, lets go of your hand.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"For what?"

"I didn't mean what I said, before," he says, finally turning his head to look at you. His eyes are red, and his cheeks are tear-stained, and you wish more than anything that he didn’t have to go through this. "About...about you."

You turn to face him, surprised. You hadn't expected an apology, especially not after so much time had passed. And after what he'd been through.

"Oh." You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

Obi-Wan is already looking away, his eyes on the ashes of the pyre.

"It's fine," you assure him, reaching out to brush his arm, trying to draw his attention back to you. "I shouldn't have...I mean, I did say some things I didn't really mean either."

Obi-Wan looks like he wants to argue, but the words die on his lips. Instead, he nods, and looks away, his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry about Qui-Gon,” you say quietly.

He flinches. You can see his jaw working, the muscles tensing and releasing, as he clenches his teeth. When he finally speaks, his voice is strained.

"Thank you," he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s part of the living Force now.”

You nod, and look away, down at the ashes. You try to remember Qui-Gon, the light in his eyes, the warmth of his smile, the sound of his voice. You wonder if, somewhere, he is smiling down at his former Padawan. You hope, for Obi-Wan's sake, that he is.

A breeze picks up, rustling the leaves in the trees. Obi-Wan's gaze goes unfocused as he stares into the distance. After a moment, he clears his throat, and looks over at Anakin. The boy is staring into the remains of the fire, a blank look on his face. He must have felt Obi-Wan looking at him, because he turns and meets his eyes.

"We should go," Obi-Wan says, glancing back at you. "Anakin needs rest."

"And so do you," you say, looking pointedly at him.

His lips twitch, not quite a smile, but a hint of one. It fades as quickly as it comes, and he is once again the picture of stoicism, his expression blank and distant.

"Yes, well, I'll rest when I can," he replies. "But not before I see to Anakin."

"I can help, if you need."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows raise, and for a moment you worry you've overstepped. You'd barely spoken in months, and the last thing you want is for him to think you're trying to push yourself back into his life, especially after all the arguing.

But then, to your surprise, he nods.

"That would be appreciated," he says. "Thank you."

The tension between you dissipates. You can see his shoulders relax a bit, his expression soften. For the first time, you can see the fatigue etched on his features, the bags under his eyes, the lines around his mouth. You want to tell him to get some rest, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that it's not going to happen.

"It's no problem," you assure him instead. “I may not be great at being a Jedi, but younglings I can handle."

His mouth quirks upward, but there's a sadness in his eyes, a weariness, that gives you pause.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head and sighs. "It's just...I wish we could have talked like this, before."

You watch as the last of the ashes blow away on the breeze, and then look over to Obi-Wan.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was..." You pause for a moment, choosing your words carefully, then you shrug a shoulder. "Well, I wasn't very nice."

"No, you weren't," he agrees. "But I wasn't, either."

You glance over, and catch him smiling faintly, a hint of the Obi-Wan you'd grown up with peeking through the facade. You find yourself smiling, too, a small, sad little smile.

"I suppose we'll just have to be better in the future, won't we?"

Obi-Wan hums.

"Perhaps," he replies, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"Master Yaddle said the Council is going to discuss the matter of the Sith," you say. "Maybe we'll know more soon."

Obi-Wan nods, but doesn't say anything. There's a heavy weight on his shoulders, and the lines of his face are drawn tight, as if he is trying very hard to hold himself together.

You feel the urge to reach out, to take his hand and hold it. You can't, of course, not in front of Anakin. It wouldn't be proper. And Obi-Wan, despite the fact that he's only just a few years older than you, is technically a Master now. And not just to a Padawan, but the Chosen One, a prophesized being destined to bring balance to the Force.

So you just stand there, feeling helpless, and wishing you could do something, anything, to make him feel better.

“Where is Master Yaddle, by the way?" Obi-Wan asks, frowning. It's a question you've been asking yourself for hours, and you have no answer.

"I don't know," you admit. "She said she'd be here, but I haven't seen her. She never got on the transport, as far as I know."

Obi-Wan's expression darkens, and he frowns, his brows furrowing. "That's odd."

"It is."

"I can ask Master Windu," Obi-Wan says, nodding in the direction the Council had gone. "Come."

He leads the way through the palace grounds, heading toward the gardens, where the Jedi had been staying since their arrival. You follow, struggling to keeping pace with his long strides. You don't speak, unsure what to say, afraid that anything you might say will ruin the fragile truce between the two of you.

Anakin falls into step beside you, walking a little faster to keep up. You glance over at him and smile, trying to reassure him. He looks up at you and smiles back.

"Hey," he says. "Who are you?"

"Oh," you glance at Obi-Wan, unsure whether you should answer or not.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says sharply, looking back at him. "Have some respect."

You nearly smile. Obi-Wan has the authority of a Master, now. It's almost amusing.

"Sorry," Anakin says sheepishly.

"It's alright," you assure him. You tell him your name, and Obi-Wan glances back.

"She is a friend,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin.

"A friend?" Anakin repeats, looking back at you curiously.

"Yes," Obi-Wan says.

"Do friends touch hands, where you're from?"

Obi-Wan chokes, his stride faltering. He shoots a panicked look back at you, his cheeks turning bright red. You bite back a laugh.

"They can,” you say, smiling at Obi-Wan.

His eyes widen, and then narrow, a look of indignation crossing his face. He shakes his head, and looks away.

"Only sometimes," he mutters, and speeds up, his robes billowing out behind him.

You can't help but grin, and, seeing the look on your face, Anakin smiles too. You reach over and give his shoulder a squeeze.

"Welcome to the Order, Anakin."

"Thank you."

As the doors to the small chamber the Council has temporarily taken over comes into view, Obi-Wan finally slows down. You catch up easily, falling in step beside him. Anakin hangs back, staying just behind.

"I'm sorry about that," Obi-Wan says apologetically, glancing over. "He's still learning."

"Don't worry about it." You hesitate, but can't help but add, "Though I'm surprised you admitted we're friends."

He looks down, and clears his throat. "Well, we are."

"Are we?"

He glances at you.

"I'd like to think so," he says softly.

You smile. "Me, too."

He gives a little nod, his lips pursed, and then turns back to the door. It opens automatically, sliding apart with a hiss.

Inside, the Council members are seated in a circle, all facing the center of the room, where Obi-Wan and Anakin now enter. Master Yoda and Master Windu are among them, their faces serious. The conversation they were having stops immediately, and the attention of everyone in the room falls on the newcomers.

There are a few whispers, some of the Jedi leaning close together to discuss whatever they are about to say. Then, one by one, each member turns to look at you.

“Master Kenobi, Padawan Anathorn," Master Windu says, and his tone is not exactly welcoming. "To what do we owe this intrusion?"

"I apologize for the interruption, Masters," Obi-Wan begins, bowing his head. "But we were wondering if you had any information on Master Yaddle. We were told she'd be at the funeral, but we haven't seen her."

"Ah," Master Windu exchanges a look with Master Yoda, who leans forward, resting his elbows on his gimer stick.

"On Coruscant, Master Yaddle remains," the old master explains. "Resigned from the Council, and from the Order, she has."

You feel as though someone has just punched you in the stomach. Resigned? Why would she resign, without saying anything to you?

"What?"

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it, loud and unbidden, and every head in the room turns to look at you. You feel the blush rise on your cheeks, and quickly duck your head.

"Apologies," you say quickly before looking back up. "But...why?"

"Why, indeed," Yoda repeats. "Concerned, we all are. But the choice, Master Yaddle has made."

“She didn’t tell me,” you whisper, feeling your stomach twist. You can feel the eyes of the Council on you, judging, questioning, wondering why she would choose you as her apprentice, why she would even choose you, when the others were so much better suited.

And the truth was, you had asked yourself that very question many times.

Master Yaddle is the closest thing you have to a mother. You'd thought she'd believed in you, wanted you to take the trials to become a Knight. But if she'd left the Council, if she'd resigned without even telling you, perhaps she was tired of dealing with you, tired of the responsibility of raising you. Perhaps she was done.

"I see," Obi-Wan replies slowly, but his eyes are on you, watching you carefully.

"Anything else, have you, Master Kenobi?" Yoda asks.

"No, Masters," Obi-Wan answers. "Forgive us."

He bows, and takes a step back. You stay rooted to the spot, your feet unwilling to move.

"Master Yaddle did not come?" you ask, your eyes moving from Master Yoda, to Master Windu, and then to the rest of the Council, all watching you intently. You feel a sudden, irrational fear grip your chest, a feeling like ice water running down your spine. Something was wrong, you were sure of it. Something was terribly wrong.

“She cared for Master Jinn, she wouldn’t—“

“Her choice it was, Padawan. Her choice, it is. Accept her resignation, we will, and move on. No choice do you have, in this matter."

You swallow the lump in your throat, and bow, your eyes burning.

"Yes, Master," you manage. "Forgive me."

“Before her resignation, Master Yaddle put forth a recommendation for you to take the trials,” Master Plo Koon speaks up. Despite the modulator of his rebreather, you hear a note of concern in his voice, and it does nothing to alleviate your own.

Your heart skips a beat, and you turn to stare at him.

"She did?"

"Yes."

"Oh," you say, stunned. You hadn't known that. Yaddle had always said you weren't ready, that you weren't prepared. Why would she recommend that you take the trials now, if not to prove a point, to get you out of her hair, so she could leave in peace?

"The decision, the Council will make. Discuss the matter, we will, once matters with the Sith are settled. For now, your focus, keep on your training."

"Yes, Master."

"Master Kenobi, young Anakin," Master Yoda looks past you, to Obi-Wan and his new Padawan, "rest, the both of you must. A long day tomorrow, you have."

"Thank you, Master Yoda."

Obi-Wan glances at you, and then nods at the Council. His hand finds your shoulder and gently, but firmly, steers you toward the door. It opens automatically, and the three of you exit, back into the garden.

"Anakin, go on," Obi-Wan says, letting go of you as the door slides shut behind you. "Wait for me in our quarters, please. I need to speak with my friend."

"Okay."

The young boy nods, and trots off, leaving the two of you alone. As soon as he disappears from view, you slump against the wall, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Your thoughts are swirling, your emotions running rampant.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asks, coming to stand in front of you.

"No," you say, shaking your head. "She didn't tell me, Obi-Wan. She didn't tell me anything."

"I'm sure there's a good reason."

"I don't care!"

You push off the wall and turn away, pacing back and forth, trying to work off some of the nervous energy. Your frustration is growing, and so is the pain, the betrayal, the hurt. You clench your fists at your sides, trying to control your breathing.

"Why would she leave without telling me? Why would she leave the Council now, when we need her the most? When I need her the most?"

"She must have had a reason," Obi-Wan insists, but you can tell he's not certain of his words.

"A reason?" You stop and turn to look at him, your anger suddenly turned toward him. "And what if that reason is that she's tired of me? What then?"

"That's not it," Obi-Wan says, frowning.

"How do you know?"

He hesitates.

"Well?"

"I..." He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. You can see the stress, the worry etched in the lines of his forehead. His eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark circles under them, and you suddenly realize that he's not in any better shape than you are.

"I know because I know her, and I know you," he says, his voice a little strained. "If Master Yaddle left the Council, there is a reason. And if she recommended you to take the trials, it's because she thinks you are ready."

"And how can I be, without her guidance? How can I do this, if she's not here?"

You take a shaky breath, and turn away again. You're on the verge of tears, and you're afraid if you look at him, you'll break down. You don’t want him to see you cry, not now, not when he's just lost his own Master, not when the whole galaxy seems to be going to shit.

"I can't do this alone," you whisper.

Obi-Wan crosses the distance between you, and puts his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"You're not alone," he says softly, and his words make the tears spill down your cheeks.

He holds you as you cry, his cheek pressed against the top of your head, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. You let yourself take comfort in the embrace, the warmth of him, his familiar scent, and his soothing voice, telling you over and over that it will be alright.

It's not true, but you let him say it, anyway.

When the tears have stopped, you pull back, and wipe at your face with the sleeve of your robes. Obi-Wan looks down at you, his expression filled with concern, his eyes filled with worry. You reach up, and brush the pad of your thumb across his cheek, wiping away the moisture there.

"Are you alright?" he asks, reaching up and putting his hand over yours.

"No."

"Would it help if I told you I was scared, too?"

You huff a laugh and pull your hand away, nodding.

"I'm serious," he says, and the smile fades from your lips. You can see the truth in his eyes, and your heart sinks.

"What are you scared of?"

"Of being a Master, of failing. Of disappointing everyone. Of...of the Sith. Of everything that's going to happen now."

"So am I," you admit. "I've never been so scared in my entire life."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to help each other get through it."

"How?"

"I'm not sure yet." He smiles, and reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "But I'm willing to try, if you are."

You nod. "Okay."

Obi-Wan takes a step back, his hand falling away from your face. He hesitates, as if he wants to say something else, and then nods to himself, and turns to leave.

"Thank you," you call after him.

He pauses, and looks back, a smile on his face.

"You're welcome," he says, and then continues on his way, heading off to meet his new Padawan.

You watch him go, and hope that whatever happens, the two of you will be able to stick together. That the Sith will not destroy everything you hold dear. Because if they do, then what will be the point of any of it?

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky above the temple red, you turn and head in the direction of your own quarters. Tomorrow, you will train, and hope that the next time the Council meets, they will allow you to take the Trials.

You will train, and meditate, and focus.

Because despite what the Council would lead you and the galaxy to believe, this is far from over.

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #tcw rex #the clone wars #star wars #clone x reader

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