#and cody too of course i think he acted out just so cody would hold him back somtimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prairiesongserial · 1 year

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20.5

The game, as d’Orléans explained it, was simple. Just a parlor game this group had a tradition of playing between the Demeter’s last stop and its final destination; a diversion the ship’s regular passengers had found to pass the time. Everyone would write down the name of a relatively well-known person on a slip of paper and add it to a bowl. Each player would then draw a slip from the bowl and, without looking, stick it to their forehead with a little saliva. The first to guess the name they’d been assigned was the winner, but play would continue until everyone had guessed correctly.

The man with the eyepatch passed around the stack of blank white cards that d’Orléans had been holding, along with a handful of pens. Cody watched John stare at his card with brows furrowed, then saw Friday lean over to say something quietly into John’s ear. Of course–neither of them excelled at reading or writing, and d’Orléans had clearly assumed that everyone in their cohort was literate. Friday seemed to know a little more than John, at least; Cody watched her fill out her own card and then, so quickly he almost missed it, palm John’s to fill it out for him.

“Cody,” Val said lowly, drawing Cody’s attention back to the end of the room he currently occupied. “I don’t think I want to play this game.”

“Leave, then,” Cody said.

Val frowned. His pen was hovering over his own blank card. “It’d turn into a whole…” he gestured vaguely. “Never mind.”

“I’ll pretend to be sick,” Cody volunteered. The valets had gotten skipped over for cards–apparently they weren’t part of this game. Jolie had already slipped out of the room to be somewhere else, though Sanvi and Etienne had stuck around, hanging back like Cody on the fringes of the room.

“You’re John’s valet, not mine.” Val shook his head. “That’ll look fishy.”

“What if you win?” Cody asked. “Then you can go, and people won’t ask any questions about it.”

Val’s frown deepened. “I’m not good at guessing games.”

“You don’t have to be,” Cody said. After the past couple days, God only knew Val deserved a win, even a small one. Maybe it wouldn’t make him feel much better, but it would definitely get him out of here faster.

“I don’t?” Val asked.

“I’ll help you cheat,” Cody said. He fought down a smile. He hadn’t made much low-stakes trouble in a while, and now that he’d had the idea, he’d be disappointed if Val turned him down.

Val exhaled a long breath out of his nose. “How?”

“Tear a bit off your card,” Cody said. “And leave your pen here when you go and put your name in the bowl.”

Val did so, ripping a narrow strip of paper from his card in a way that looked to any outside observer like he was fidgeting while he waffled over what name to write. He let the smaller slip fall to the waist-height windowsill between them. After another few seconds, he scribbled down a name on his card that Cody couldn’t read, then folded it in half and crossed the room to drop it in the communal bowl d’Orléans had set on a chess table.

“When you get your name, I’ll write down what it is and put the paper in your pocket,” Cody said. “Don’t guess it right away. Ask some questions first, so you don’t look sketchy, then act like you figured it out.”

“Okay,” Val said. He nodded, like he was trying to reassure himself.

Val wasn’t a good actor, so far as Cody knew, but he didn’t have to be for this. At least half the people in the room were already a little tipsy on the mimosas they’d had with their breakfasts, and d’Orléans was making a show of mixing bloody Marys from the small bar in the corner. Cody figured others in the room were liable to be cheating, too. Possibly colluding with their valets, though John hadn’t so much as looked Cody’s way since he’d entered the room.

Anyway, if they got caught cheating, what was the harm? It was just a little fun. At worst, Val would get laughed at for trying to lie his way into a win, and that would be that. This wasn’t La Salle.

The man with the eyepatch soon circled the room once more, carrying the bowl and passing out cards to the participants of the game. Something like a scowl passed over his carefully neutral expression as he came to Val and offered Val a slip from the bowl. Val took the card from his hand, and the expression on the man’s face was gone so quickly that Cody immediately began to doubt he had seen it at all. Val didn’t seem to have noticed it, either–he was too busy brushing his hair aside and affixing his card to his forehead.

“Well,” d’Orléans said, clapping their hands for attention once more, “now that you’ve all received your cards–let the game begin!”

The room filled with chatter immediately. Participants turned to their neighbors to eagerly grill them with yes-or-no questions, the only kind they were allowed to ask for the duration of the game. John and Friday were talking again, apparently playing in earnest.

The name on Val’s card was no one Cody recognized. Still, he diligently copied it onto the strip of paper Val had left for him on the windowsill while everyone else was distracted with their own deductions. When he was finished copying, he dropped the strip back to the windowsill. He moved away from Val to reset the pool table, idly retrieving the balls from the pockets and placing them into the rack. It was something to do with his hands, at least, and he would attract less attention if he looked busy with some chore.

Cody tracked Val in his peripheral vision as the other man moved towards the crowd in the center of the game room, apparently resigning himself to joining in the fun of puzzling out what name he’d been randomly assigned.

“Am I a woman?” Val asked.

“No,” someone in the crowd returned, loudly.

“A man?”

“Yes.”

“Deceased?”

“Oh, certainly!” someone else said–Cody thought it was Mrs. Dumont.

“Am I…a philosopher?”

There was a long pause, as though not everyone knew the answer to this. Finally, someone Cody couldn’t see said, “Yes.”

“A theologian?”

“Yes,” the same person said, again. Cody saw that it was the man with the eyepatch, who had once again taken up his post at d’Orléans’s side.

“From the Roman Empire?” Val asked.

“Yes,” the man said a third time.

“Then I must be Clement of Alexandria,” Val said. He plucked the card from his forehead, looked at it, and placed it down face-up on the table with a wry smile. “Oh, would you look at that. I am. I’ll see you all for dinner.”

Val turned on his heel and left the game room. Most of the other players looked stunned; Cody noticed d’Orléans looking faintly annoyed, their eyes narrowed to slits as they watched the door swing shut in Val’s wake. Sacha caught Cody looking and offered him a grin and a wink.

“Mr. Lecter must be particularly well-versed in decanonized pre-congregation saints,” Sacha said lightly. “That’s some party trick for a film producer.”

Cody saw Friday and John exchange a look. Apparently Friday had embellished her marital backstory a little too thoroughly in the past day or so.

“It’s a hobby of his,” Friday replied primly. “He takes the church very seriously.”

“Well, I admire a man who can find something to believe in and stick to it that well,” Sacha said, leaning back in his armchair and kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. “Guess I’d better get serious, huh? Am I…an American?”

The number of competitors in the game had begun to dwindle. Sacha had guessed his card almost straight away after Val. He’d then been followed in short order by d’Orléans and a couple of their friends, including the man with the eyepatch–whose name Cody now knew was Casimir. Friday and John remained as competitors, alongside the Dumont couple, Clovis, and an older woman named Ghislaine with a severe-looking valet who kept bringing her glasses of scotch.

“Ah,” Friday finally said in recognition, snapping her fingers. “Am I Madeline Bellamy?”

Cody hadn’t been paying attention to the last question she’d asked–he’d ceased paying attention to the game at all, instead sitting on the windowsill and watching the veiled deck of the ship outside. Occasionally some passenger or crew member would move past the window, too obscured by the gauzy curtain for Cody to see much more than a shadow.

“You are,” d’Orléans said with an indulgent smile. They, Casimir, and Sacha had stayed behind to see the rest of the game through; a handful of the others who’d already guessed their cards had followed Val’s example and wandered away for other amusements.

Friday clapped her hands in delight that Cody suspected was half for show. She took the card from her forehead and slapped it down onto the table, then turned to John.

“You can get yours,” she encouraged him.

“I don’t remember what I’ve asked,” John said, a note of frustration in his voice. He was sitting with his back to the window–Cody couldn’t see what was written on his card, though from Friday’s tone of voice it could only have been something painfully obvious.

“You know you’re a man,” Sacha said, ticking facts off on his fingers as he went. “You’re not an American, but you live in America. You’re a gang leader. You’re involved with Hemisphere, and we agreed that most people dislike you. You-”

“Marc Waters,” John said. Apparently hearing all the facts together had helped him come to a conclusion.

“There you go!” Sacha said, clapping him on the shoulder. Cody clenched his jaw around an impulse to tell the man John didn’t like to be touched. That was not his job at the moment.

“I still don’t know who I am,” Clovis complained. He had been mostly complaining throughout the entire game, and doing very little question-asking. Cody was almost surprised that Etienne hadn’t helped him cheat, given that the two of them didn't appear to have any qualms about bending the truth.

Cody had assumed that John would leave once he’d guessed correctly, but John made no move to get up from his spot on the couch next to Friday. And as long as John was in the game room, Cody had to stay. He waited with the other valets, now impatient, fidgeting with his sleeves and ponytail. There was no reason for John to stick around, but Cody couldn’t just say he wanted to leave. It wasn’t a valet’s place.

Time continued to pass, and John continued to sit on the couch, largely doing nothing except replying to Friday when she spoke to him. The participants of the game dwindled further; Ghislaine guessed correctly that she was some character from a book Cody had never heard of, and the Duponts finished shortly after, egging each other on over the finish line. Clovis was the last participant left, and with multiple hints from Sasha and d’Orléans he was able to deduce his card was John the Baptist. Cody didn’t know Val’s handwriting well enough to identify it, but he was sure that Val had written that card.

"This is a stupid fucking game, anyway,” Clovis said, snatching the card from his forehead and throwing it to the floor as he stood up. “Come on, Etienne. We’re leaving.”

He stormed out with Etienne on his heels. Sacha whistled, still reclined with his feet propped on the table.

“That man has a worse temper than Conti,” he said.

d’Orléans shrugged. “Some people are sore losers, dear. Shall we discuss lunch?”

John stood abruptly and collected his cane, perhaps sensing that the time had come to either leave, or be roped into lunch plans. Cody let himself exhale in relief.

“Thank you. I had a good time,” John said, politely. He squeezed Friday’s shoulder briefly in passing as he turned to go, and Cody saw her smile. Then, with a quick gesture for Cody to follow, John left.

Cody slipped out into the hallway, relief quickly giving way to annoyance at being made to wait so long for no apparent reason. He suppressed the urge to walk side-by-side, instead trailing behind John like he’d seen the other valets do with their employers. It was a tough pace to keep, slower going than Cody was used to.

“What the hell was that?” Cody demanded. “You could’ve left when you were done, and you just made me stand there.”

“You could have left, too,” John said pointedly.

“No, I couldn’t’ve! Did you see the other valets leaving? I’m stuck following you around, John, that’s how this works.”

“That must be so hard for you,” John said. He didn’t turn around.

20.4 || 20.6

#story

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

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gffa · 3 years

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Last time I went about five months between doing a set of STAR WARS fic recs, this time it’s only been three months! Hurrah! It helps that, as always, this fandom puts out an incredible amount of excellent fic, so I feel like I’m never hurting for fics I want to yell about and shove at people, which is something I continue to appreciate as it often feels like so much of the world is such a huge tire fire. It helps to be able to find fics to retreat into, to have fun with, to express joy and creativity with, and so many of the authors in this fandom are just so good at this! To the point that these sets sometimes take awhile because there are always more fics I want to add, until the post starts threatening to be overly long instead of a decent length–in my defense, no seriously, you guys are just too good! Also, I forced myself to stop at 69 fic recs, because yes I do think it’s funny. (Nice.) STAR WARS FIC RECS: PREQUELS RECS: ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & dooku & yoda & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 4k This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & jedi & ocs, 61k Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 8.7k During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, depa & caleb, 1.4k Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ desecrate my lungs by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 16k wip Time-travel fix-it in which Mustafar haunts Anakin decades after it happened and years before it would. ✦ Grace by dismantlingsummer, obi-wan & anakin, 2.3k Shortly after Mustafar, Anakin realizes what he has done. He finds Obi-Wan to beg for death. ✦ Fifth Migration by wrennette, yoda & mace & obi-wan & ki-adi & yarael & coleman & plo & palpatine & cast, 2k How about an AU where the Sith’s Grand Plan accounted for everything -everything that is, except the fact that the Jedi temple is actually an very ancient spacecraft and the second word got to the Jedi about there being clones on Kamino, all Jedi are called back inside and they take off immediately? Just imagine the dear chancellor’s face… ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & sabe & mace & quinlan & cast, 9.8k A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Mind Your Words by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 7k Obi-Wan reminds Anakin that there are consequences for careless behavior for young Jedi on missions. ✦ (you taught me) the courage of stars by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, 5.1k wip Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.) ✦ they faked it (guess everything’s complicated) by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.5k Ahsoka temporarily loses memories of the events of Obi-Wan’s fake death. To help with the healing process, Anakin and Obi-Wan have to pretend that they’re okay. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, body horror, 1.3k The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ Unpleasant Truths by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k Obi-Wan and Anakin are stuck in a room with one another while waiting for truth serum to wear off. ✦ moment’s silence by skatzaa, obi-wan & owen & beru & luke & leia (pre-obi-wan/beru-owen), 2k Owen had long since resigned himself to trouble, whenever Beru got that particularly stubborn set to her jaw. ✦ hold gently and let go by shatou, obi-wan & anakin (pre-slash?), 1.7k A troubled Anakin comes to Obi-Wan to discuss attachments. ✦ sun child by Ro29, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k (or; sometimes being so tied to the Force causes problems, Obi-Wan helps his Padawan as best he can) ✦ A Dinner Out by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & cast, 1.6k Obi-Wan can’t get his young Padawan to eat much, so he tries something new. But trying something different has unintended consequences. ✦ Shades in the Desert by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & luke & owen/beru, 10.8k Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine. ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, major character death, 3.8k It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & younglings, ~1k The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. ✦ on sith holocrons and misunderstandings by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & cast, de-aged!obi-wan, 7.2k or, de-aged!Obi-Wan has the same Force bonds as adult Obi-Wan, and he does not react well. ✦ Perseverance & Resilience by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k In the aftermath of Naboo, Obi-Wan realizes he needs strength to protect his new Padawan. Growing up, Anakin needs peace. ✦ A Delicate Balance by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & yoda & jedi, spanking, 9.6k As Anakin’s skills grow, so too does his penchant for getting into trouble. After a training mishap, Obi-Wan struggles with his role as Anakin’s master. ✦ mirror, mirror by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, 5.4k Obi-Wan has been rescued by Anakin after being rather embarrassingly kidnapped on the remote planet of Ilnuria during his investigation of rumored kyber crystals deep beneath the planet’s surface. …But is all as it seems? ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & ponds & cody & jedi & cast, 12.5k Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ begin again as a quiet thought by skatzaa, obi-wan/quinlan, d/s, ~1k Cool, smooth leather touched his jaw—gloves. Because of course Obi-Wan had thought of that as well. ✦ Drunken Lullabies by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin & siri & quinlan & aayla & garen & bant & ferus, 6.5k “Do I really have to go to this thing?” Fourteen year old Anakin Skywalker dramatically sighed. “It’s sooo boring!” ✦ heaven knows how I love you by the_13th_battalion, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are stranded on an unfamiliar planet overnight. They spend their time exploring the community- and maybe they get a little closer to each other along the way. ✦ A Reckless Padawan by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, spanking, 3.9k When Ahsoka upsets Anakin with an act of reckless disobedience, it falls to her grandmaster to help her see the error of her ways. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ Nostos by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, 17k Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin discover that there are many ways to come home. ✦ to touch the light, darkest by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k Obi-Wan begins to fuck Vader back to the light ✦ encode by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & padme & handmaidens & cast, 26.3k wip Instead of being accepted into the Jedi Order at the age of 9, Anakin Skywalker became a ward of Naboo. ✦ Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs, obi-wan/anakin & mace & ahsoka & shmi & padme & cast, 31.9k wip When Anakin Skywalker was nine, he left his whole life and mother behind to follow Qui-Gon Jinn to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. When Anakin Skywalker was twelve, he left his whole life and Master behind to follow Mace Windu to the Outer Rim and away from the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker was twenty… ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 44.7k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can’t refuse. These things are, actually, related. ✦ Over and Over by obiwanobi, obi-wan/anakin, 1.4k “I love you,” he blurts out, loud and impossible to miss. Obi-Wan blinks once, twice. And freezes. The first time Anakin tells him is a mortifying experience. ✦ Exceptions by rinverse, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & quinlan & cast, NSFW, modern au, 23.4k Young and brilliant, Anakin is the mind behind JEDI Tech’s latest innovation. Obi-Wan is the company’s perfectly composed Director of PR & Marketing. And last night, they were just two strangers at a bar, looking for something quick and easy. But life had other plans when it crossed their paths again the very next day. ✦ Here There Be Dragons by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 10.1k Anakin knows why he can’t shift into his animal form like every other Jedi. It’s because he doesn’t want to, it’s because he’s had a vision of what he would become, and he doesn’t want it. ✦ Waiting in a Sea of Stars by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan/anakin, ~1k Stranded in deep space, Obi-Wan and Anakin wait for rescue. ✦ Tristitia by JSwander, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 5k An alternate timeline where Palpatine focuses his attentions on Obi-Wan Kenobi instead of Anakin Skywalker after the attack on Naboo. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 11: Communication, What Communication? by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, mobster au, 7k a 7k obikin PWP that is somehow a prompt mashup of a mobster au, an accidental sugar daddy au, with a soupçon of an anakin never left tatooine au, and a pinch of qui-gon was anakin’s dad au ✦ who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, spanking, 3.6k Anakin purposely avoids doing what Obi-Wan tells him to do. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 12: Potidaea, 432BC, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, historical au, 4.3k Here is a short smutty scene inspired by all those classics asks, Alcibiades praising Socrates in Plato’s Symposium, and this vase c.490-480 B.C. depicting standing, face-to-face intercrural intercourse between a bearded man and a youth, which as far as we can tell was the most common and accepted position for it in Ancient Greece. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 13: Minikin and Tiny-Wan by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5.4k Happy May the Fourth! In honor of this happy day, I have written the fluffiest, crackiest, vanilla-flavored smut imaginable. Based on long discussions on discord with tomicaleto about her adorable Tiny AU. ✦ to hold until brightness by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.4k Obi-Wan feared that it drew out the darkest in him, to bring Vader to these flashes of light, but it was a trade he would make again and again without hesitation. ✦ May Be Found, If Sought by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan/anakin & mace & quinlan, magical academy au, 2.3k In which Quinlan, Mace, and Obi-Wan teach Non-Traditional Magical Philosophy in an institution rampant with academic snobbery and discrimination, something dark is stirring in the nearby forest, and no one is ever prepared for Anakin Skywalker. A small story about first meetings in magical academia. ✦ infinitely varied by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 2.2k Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. ✦ recipe for disaster by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 9.8k When Ahsoka tells Anakin she doesn’t want to learn piano anymore, Anakin is heartbroken. He doesn’t care about the instrument, obviously, but he’s practically in love with her teacher. Obi-Wan offers up a solution to their impending separation, and it’s not dating like any normal person would suggest. Instead, he’s gonna teach Anakin how to cook. Except Anakin’s a pretty well-known chef, and Obi-Wan is absolutely awful in the kitchen. ✦ Pretty Kitty by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.2k “Master, you always take such good care of me,” Anakin says, a little chirp coming after his sentence, as his thumb rests on Anakin’s plump bottom lip. ✦ As One, Into Eternity by Pseudonymoose, obi-wan/anakin, force ghosts, 3.1k Death comes, but the man who was, and is, and will be Anakin Skywalker is not gone. And in the Force, he will never be alone again. ✦ does he make you laugh? by y0u_idjits, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, fusion fic, 3.6k “Tell me it’s not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your husband.” ✦ Rotten Work by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, 2.8k Obi-Wan: I’ll take care of you. Anakin, with bloodshot eyes and a broken back from hours of terrible posture: It’s rotten work. Obi-Wan, who needs to bathe this man for his own sanity and health: Not to me. Not if it’s you. ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ understanding is honoring the truth beneath the surface by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 7.3k Anakin asks Obi-Wan to take control. ✦ The strongest stars… by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin & beru & cast, NSFW, 7.4k The war’s end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple. ✦ home has a heartbeat by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, 5.6k Or: Anakin and Obi-Wan are together, but there are still some things left unsaid between them. ✦ turn back now (i’m haunted) by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & quinlan & ahsoka & cast, modern au, ghosts au, 25k wip Anakin Skywalker’s house is haunted. Luckily for him, Padmé knows a ghost hunter. Unluckily for him, it’s the hottest, most english-professor ghost hunter he’s ever seen. And extremely unluckily for him, he’s starting to get the feeling he understands maybe ten percent of what’s actually going on here, not to mention what’s at stake. ✦ game plan by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.2k Or, Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It’s kind of a thing. ✦ Provocation by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.9k Or: Obi-Wan and Anakin attempt to navigate their complicated relationship with barbed words and wilful ignorance. It wasn’t going well. ✦ Languages by Crowgirl, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.5k So Anakin pulls out a map and makes a list. REBELS RECS: ✦ The Scent of You by ambiguously, kanan/hera & cast, a smidge of nsfw, 2.9k Everything changes after Malachor, and Kanan has trouble finding his balance. ✦ Heard It in a Love Song (Can’t Be Wrong) by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 2.7k Kallus can’t quite figure out what makes Zeb tick, but he keeps trying. ORIGINAL TRILOGY/MANDALORIAN RECS: ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & mace, 2k Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. ✦ staring down the barrel of the hot sun by magneticwave, luke/din & obi-wan & grogu & mace & cast, 25.7k “Gone to a Child of the Watch, the Darksaber has,” Grand Master Yoda announces in his creaky little voice. “Peace, there is not, and yet peace, there must be.” ✦ Released by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & rex & luke & cast, 6k Nearly two and a half decades late, Cody’s chip is finally removed. Adjusting to having his mind returned to him after so long takes time, and Cody struggles with questions of his purpose of the past, present, and future. Fortunately, he does not have to struggle alone. ✦ A Tatooine Rainstorm by skatzaa, leia & luke & shmi, 1.7k Leia meets a ghost. ✦ Dealing with the Darksaber by Peppermint_Shamrock, din & bo-katan & cara, 1.3k After her recovery, Bo-Katan contacts Din to challenge him for the darksaber. Din is still very much not interested in the whole affair. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post

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swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

There was earie silence after the damn Clanker’s pulsar cannons finally ceased. Well, aside from the grunts and curses of troopers struggling to remain upright in the thick mud that was their battlefield.

Commander Cody was about to turn and clarify the usual clean up procedures with General Kenobi, just a few steps away, when a small noise of discomfort sliced through the quiet and his head whipped around to the other man.

“General?” he barked, instantly alert. The General had been close to that final blast, but Cody had thought it a safe distance.

He shlepped his way over to the Jedi standing with his back to him, and his head bent low, exposing the pale skin at the back of his neck.

Broken bones? Burns? Shrapnel?

“Sir?” Cody asked again, close enough to see the man’s head was in his hands, features clenched as another grunt came out of him.

“Ugh Cody I’ve – Ow! Excuse me, I’ve got a bit of mud in my eyes” the General rose his head and attempted to look at Cody, rubbing his face.

Cody winced when he got a good look at the Jedi’s front; he was covered in mud and dust, coating his hair and beard, the beige of his robes barely visible.

But it was his face that made Cody cringe, his features were absolutely caked in more dirt. Dirt that the General was frantically scrubbing at, both hands balled into fists to rub at his eyes desperately.

A bit of mud?!

“Sir stop that!” Cody watched in horror as the General seemed to actively make his situation worse with his continued movements.

“General you’re making it worse!”

“I just need to – Ow!” The Jedi scrunched up his face and attempted to open his eyes, blinking and squinting at Cody, only for the grit to cause him to immediately shut them again in pain.

Idiot!

The Commander would later justify his next action with the facts that a) it had been a very long day, and b) his Jedi was being very frustrating, but when his advice went unheeded and the General continued futilely attempting to scrub the mud and dirt out of his eyes, Cody acted.

He reached out lightening quick and grabbed the other man’s skinny wrists in a vice like hold, pulling them away from his face.

“Ah! Cody!” The General attempted to scowl, screwing up his face again and blinking.

Time to bring out the big guns.

“Sir you need to stop” he barked in the tone he usually reserved for misbehaving shinies. He was immensely satisfied when his fearless C.O froze immediately.

Pressing his advantage he continued;

“Keep your eyes closed” he instructed, was flattered at the trust his General showed by immediately closing his eyes and scrunching his face up once again in irritation.

Cody glanced around quickly, still keeping a firm hold on his General.

“Cloth. Clean water” he barked at a nearby Lieutenant, who managed a hasty salute whilst scrambling to comply, dashing to the med tent.

Cody turned back to the man in front of him, taking the moment to give General Kenobi a critical once over. Still hunched slightly it was hard to see if he was completely uninjured, but aside from the mess he did look more or less alright.

Battered and exhausted in a way that made Cody want to give him a big hug and a whack upside the head, but more or less whole.

“Er…Cody” the man in question still had his eyes squeezed shut but there was a definite smirk forming on his lips beneath his dirty beard.

“Do you think you could let go now?” he asked lightly flexing his fingers, wrists still held in Cody’s grip.

“No.” He’d been down this road before. Give the silly, self-destructive Jedi an inch and he’d take a mile.

“Cody!”

“Sir” The General’s whining was interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Boots, with a clean white cloth and a jar of greenish water.

Cody glared at the jar, making no move to take it.

“I need clean water Lieutenant, what about that is hard to understand?” he demanded.

Boots, to his credit merely nodded.

“Yes Sir” the young trooper saluted unnecessarily and Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s bacta infused Sir, I got it from the med tent” he explained, straightening up. “Commander Kix said he’ll be out soon he wants to check the General himself. Er…Sir.”

“Oh for Force sake it’s just-“

“Thank you Boots, that’s appreciated” Cody ignored the grumbling from the Jedi and finally releasing his wrists to take the offered items.

“Keep them closed” he instructed as he let go. He took the grunt he received as an affirmative.

Taking the cloth and dunking it lightly in the water/bacta mix he moved closer to the Jedi. He could see the dirt in the pinched lines around his face, could smell the mixture of sweat and dirt that was all over him, so different to the usual scent of tea that usually marked his presence. The Commander shuffled closer still, willing himself not to focus on the fact that he could hear the other’s breathing and see the different tones in his hair under the dirt. He wondered absently how many people generally got this close to the General.

Snap out of it!

“Sir I’m going to just get some of this off” he said, irritated when his voice was softer than he intended.

General Kenobi just nodded.

Gently, more gently than he had done anything in his life, he pressed the cool cloth to the other’s face, pressing down ever so slightly on delicate eyelids, trying not to think too much about the uncomfortable twitch his touch was greeted with.

“Sorry” he said quietly, swallowing when his voice came out no more than a whisper.

“No no it’s alright” the Jedi assured him. And Cody would put it down to wishful thinking later, but the unflappable Jedi Master was definitely a little horse.

Cody continued his ministrations in silence, trying not to breathe too loudly, or smile in victory when General Kenobi relaxed a little into his touch.

The cloth was ruined by the time he got most of the muck off.

“There you go Sir, I’ve got most of it.”

And just like that, brilliant blue eyes flickered open, eyelids fluttering prettily whilst he blinked the last of the grit away.

“There you are” the General greeted softly, a sort of soft smile immediately taking up his dirty face.

Cody’s stomach gave an uncomfortable kind of wiggle.

“Yeah” he answered, again it came out as more of a whisper.

Well done Cody, real charming he berated himself as the cleared his throat and pulled himself together, only to be interrupted.

“Thank you” those impossibly blue eyes were looking into his earnestly, and the soft voice made it impossible to think.

Too close. Should move. He could see the redness around General Kenobi’s eyes and the irritation on the skin under them. Should get Kix.

But he didn’t want to move. And neither it seemed, did the General, who was continuing to look at him like Cody was the best thing he’d ever seen.

Footsteps behind them broke the spell, and in the blink of an eye the General suddenly straightened up, jumping to attention as if electrocuted. Cody nearly got whiplash at the jarring change in atmosphere.

“Well I think I’d better find somewhere to wash off-“

Cody was baffled for a moment…

“General Kenobi! I have an optical solution with your name on it!”

…before the dulcet tones of Kix, stomping towards them, explained the situation.

Cody rolled his eyes, turning away from the sight and back to his silly General with a telling off on his lips.

Only to find the space that was previously occupied by said flighty Jedi, was empty.

Of course it was. Bloody Jedi.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Commander Cody #master kenobi #hurt/comfort #fluff #must practice building tension!#codywan #snippet of nothing #obi wan fanfic

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silkling · 3 years

Note

Could you please write a crossover of Rescue Bots and TFP? Rather than dying on the Nemesis, a critically injured Dreadwing fleas and crash lands on Griffin Rock. The Rescue Bots find him and nurse him back to health, not realizing he’s a Decepticon because his markings got scratched up in the fight. Dreadwing wakes up while the Rescue Bots are trying to contact Team Prime, but can’t since, unbeknownst to them, they’re all on Cybertron, fighting the Cons for the Omega Keys and Omega Lock.

So, this one turned out to be much, much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that I had to divide it into three posts. The second post will be linked at the bottom of this one, and the third will be linked at the bottom of the second. Dear god, apparently I had a lot of more thoughts about Rescue Bots than even I was aware of. Oh well. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! (FYI: most prompt fills will not be this long. This one was just so long cause I have many emotions and ideas about this scenario.)

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Dreadwing felt the betrayal of Lord Megatron as surely as if it were just as physical a wound as the hole blown through his chest. He had heard the weapon powering up, and his war-forged battle instincts had had him diving to the side just as the fusion canon had fired. It has still torn though his chest, but rather than destroy his spark chamber the blast had torn a hole straight through the right side of his chest near his shoulder. He lived yet, but if he could not escape the Nemesis that would not be the case for much longer.

He had served Lord Megatron with loyalty and honor for millennia, ever since he and his brother had joined the Decepticons after Vos had fallen. Dreadwing had sold his very spark to the Unmaker to act on the wishes and orders of his leader, and this is what his loyalty had earned him? Megatron attempting to offline him, and protecting the mech who had desecrated his brother? The same mech who had, countless times before, betrayed Megatron himself? Dreadwing could scarcely understand it. Why would Megatron spare Starscream, who had given the warlord no true loyalty, when Dreadwing himself had been nothing but loyal? Is this what his loyalty bought him, among the Decepticons? Dishonorably killed solely for attempting to avenge his brother by killing a traitorous coward?

If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He dragged himself down the halls, finally making it to the flight deck, and looked down to see the ship flying above the ocean. Rather than attempt a proper take off, he simply pitched his body forward off the edge and allowed himself to fall. As he neared the water, he forced a transformation, ignoring the agony of the action, and his engine roared to life. Lucid thought slipped away, then, as baser survival coding took over and guided him away from the warship, away from danger, away from what would have been his death.

Only one thing was certain, now.

In attacking Dreadwing to protect Starscream, Megatron had lost the loyalty of his most devoted frontline warrior.

Dreadwing simply refused to follow a mech who would protect the one who desecrated his brother.

And so, survival protocols overriding every other thought or higher system, the large Seeker allowed his higher processor functions to shut off. His mind quieted to blissful silence. Instinct alone drove him forward, flying towards a destination even he did not know. He could only hope it would be somewhere safe.

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Blades didn’t know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasn’t a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like he’d crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasn’t even supposed to be out here, as Sigma-17 had to maintain their cover, but everything at the firehouse had just been several kinds of too much that morning, so he had, for once, flown off on his own and landed on a beach he knew no humans ever really came to, intent to just take a walk and clear his head.

Except, upon coming around a bend, he’d found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, he’d simply frozen, but then the instinct ingrained by his training kicked in and he sprung into action. See, Blades was a trained and licensed triage medic. He couldn’t perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron he’d taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if he’d ever run into someone during a rescue who’d been hurt, he could treat them and keep them alive until they could get to a medical facility. The training g had been fun, especially when he’d studied with-

He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didn’t want to think about the time….Before. It hurt, remembering what and who he’d lost during his millennia of stasis. Before he could fall back into grief, training snapped back into place and his processor quieted. He knelt next to the fallen Cybertronian, noting that they were a Seeker frame, and carefully turned the bot over. His next thought was an observation that the bot was a mech, and that the energon soaking into the sand under his frame was spilling from a large hole torn straight through his chest. That meant the first thing he needed to do was seal the leaking lines to keep him from losing more energon. After that, he could call Heatwave. He didn’t have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once he’d made sure this mech wouldn’t die here and now, he would need to get him to proper care. One of the stasis pods would certainly help, though if they wanted the wound healed fully he’d need to be in the pod for a while. The other alternative was contacting Optimus. Blades knew the Prime had a proper medic on his team, which might be the better option.

As his processor raced, trying to think of a plan, his hands worked on autopilot. He slipped the tools he needed from his subspace, cleaning and removing grime where it was needed to prevent infection, removing bits of sand and stone from the wound, and using a small welder to seal off the free-flowing energon lines. He covered loose, sparking wires and circuits, , rerouting a few of them in places where it was needed. Finally, after many long minutes, he finished and sat back on his heels.

It was then the helicopter realized his comm. was pinging with an alert for an incoming message, and had been for quite some time. In fact, it seemed he’d missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, Cody…Pit, even Graham had sent him a message. Embarrassment and guilt settled heavy in his chest, and he lifted his hand to his audial to accept the current call. As soon as his comm. clicked to life, Dani’s voice was coming through it.

“Blades! Finally! Where are you? We’ve all been worried sick, you know.” his partner scolded. Blades couldn’t help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. “You know you’re not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!” she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didn’t take it personally. “What if someone had seen you? You need to-“

And now that was enough. “Dani.” he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now there’s a bigger emergency than me risking our cover. I found an inured bot on that small beach behind the mountain. You know, the one no one likes to go to because the hike is too long? He’s in a really bad way. I have triage training, and I’ve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.”

There was silence on the other end, before-

“Alright. I’ll tell everyone to come to your location. I’m with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but we’ll meet you there. Don’t move, and keep the bot alive.” Dani instructed. Despite himself, Blades was smiling again. Yes, he really did love Dani. She knew when it was time to get serious. He had a feeling he’d be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.”

“You too.” he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. “And Dani?”

“Yeah, Blades?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.

“Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Then the comm. line cut off, and Blades was left alone to in the silence. He let his processor drift, kneeling in the energon soaked sand as he worked on saving the life of a bot whose name he didn’t even know.

——————————

Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He hadn’t been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. He’d seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way he’d fidgeted around the others, seen the way his optics had slipped and gone dull and distant. He knew today was not a good day for Blades, so his disappearance had not been a surprise. He’d been mildly concerned, simply because he did not know if Blades would be able to avoid being seen in his more distracted state, but he hadn’t been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadn’t protested. He’d even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.

But then Blades had finally picked up Dani’s comm. and that was when he started to worry. A strange bot, found injured on Griffin Rock? It raised many questions. Where had they come from? Who where they? How had they been injured? Chase wasn’t worried that the bot would die. He knew Blades had triage training, so he was confident his teammate would be able to keep his unexpected patient alive. Even so, this new development raised many questions that Chase did not have the answers to, and that was what worried him. There were not many Cybertronians on Earth, he knew. Aside from Sigma-17, there was Team Prime, and….the Decepticons. As far as Chase was aware, and he admittedly did not know as much as he would like, there were no unaligned bots on the planet.

Which meant this newcomer was either one of Prime’s team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasn’t attached to either faction. It would be easy enough to confirm; they simply had to contact Prime and ask if he was missing a teammate, and if not ask if he recognized the bot in question. If this stranger was a neutral party or an Autobot, Chase knew there would be nothing to worry about. But if they were a Decepticon…well, that was the root of the police bot’s concerns. Sigma-17 was a rescue team. They knew rudimentary combat skills, enough to defend themselves or those they were rescuing in an emergency, but they were non-combatants. By the standards of the War, his team would be classified as civilians. If this new Cybertronian was a Decepticon…Chase wasn’t sure they’d be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasn’t sure they’d even be able to protect themselves.

Before he could slip even further into his own processor, they arrived at the coordinates Blades had sent. His snapped into focus, his doors popping open to allow his passengers out, and then he was transforming and walking over to where he could see Blades. As he approached his friend, he heard Boulder and Heatwave pull up behind him and transform. Blades looked up from his work when his three teammates stopped next to him, and Chase was mildly disconcerted to see the amount of energon soaking the sand and coating the copter’s hands.

“Blades, what happened?” Heatwave demanded, voice rough.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged helplessly. “I came out here for some space and to take a walk, cause I know this beach is practically abandoned, and I just found him like this.”

Indeed, this close, Chase could see that the mystery bot was in fact a mech. That answered one question, but none of the others. How irritating. It was also making him very nervous and queasy to see just how badly injured the very, very large bot was. Boulder too, seemed to feel ill at the sight of such horrible wounds and so much energon. Distantly, Chase noted that the bot might be even bigger than High Tide. He had no idea how they were supposed to get him back to the firehouse.

Heatave made a frustrated noise, clearly displeased with the lack of information though he knew Blades was not to blame. “Well can you tell how he got so injured?”

“A weapon of some sort, though not one I’ve ever seen the damage of before.” Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. “There’s also signs of older damage. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.”

Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. “…can you tell which side?”

“No. Any faction identifier or badge has been destroyed or scraped off like most of his paint. I can only just figure out what his colors are supposed to be, and even them only barely.”

Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Blades startled, looking surprised. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course.” Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. “You are the triage medic here. Protocol dictates that, in the absence of a full medic, any medical decisions would fall to the next available medical expert. In this case, that would be you.”

Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. “Like I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I don’t have the ability to fix him completely, my training only covered keeping patients alive until they could get to someone who could repair them fully. The only one on planet I know who might be able to help is Optimus’s medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.”

Heatwave grunted. “Got it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.”

That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. “Graham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though we’ll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.”

The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didn’t want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown bot’s care.

“Well?” Chief asked. “How’s our newest guest?

“Unwell.” Chase said succinctly. “He is severely injured and appears to be involved in the War in some fashion, though it is impossible to tell for which side. We are going to transport him to the firehouse in order to put him into a stasis pod so that he may heal. Graham, I believe Boulder requires your assistance in that respect.” he said, directing the last part to the engineer.

Graham nodded, making no protest as he jogged forward towards his partner, Boulder already turning and crouching to begin discussing plans. Dani followed him quickly, though she split from his path to join Blades, clambering up onto his leg and patting his canopy as she shot him a reassuring smile.

It was here that Kade made his own opinion known. “Hey hey hey, let’s slow down!” he protested. “You just said you don’t know what side this guy’s on, and you want to bring him back home? We can’t do that! Why can’t Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?”

Chase tilted his head. “Blades is a licensed triage medic. He does not have the training necessary to fully repair him. Besides, even if he did, I do not believe it would be wise to simply ‘send him on his way’, and you said. If he truly is a Decepticon, then doing so would risk leading the entirety of the Decepticon army right here to Griffin Rock.”

Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. “Oh.”

Chief sighed. “Fair point, partner. I agree we can’t just leave him or let him die. It wouldn’t be right, even if he isn’t on our side. But for safety’s sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?”

Chase nodded. “Indeed, Chief. I believe that is the current plan. As soon as he is safely in a stasis pod, we will attempt to contact Optimus. With luck, we can have this matter sorted by the end of today.”

“Good.” Chief smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

“Agreed.”

Chase returned to his team, Chief and Kade following at his heel, to find they had come up with a plan to transport the unknown Cybertronian. Working together, the rescue team was able to get the large flight-frame settled into a make-shift trailer the engineer duo had thrown together, and after hitching it to Boulder’s vehicle mode the whole group made their way to the firehouse using the tunnels in order to avoid being seen. Barring Blades, of course, who instead flew straight to base with Dani in order to prepare a stasis pod.

By the time Chase and the others arrived, the pod was set up and open to admit the unknown mech. It took all four of Sigma-17 working together to lift him into it, but then the glass door was sliding shut and frost soon hid the bot from view as the stasis function of the pod took affect. Now, all that was left was for Blades to clean himself up, and for Heatwave to contact Optimus about their guest.

Chase just hoped this development didn’t come back to bite them.

——————————

Dreadwing woke to the hiss of an unfamiliar system disengaging and onlined his optics to see icy mist billowing to the floor as a glass door slid up from in front of him. A stasis pod? That was odd. The Nemesis had no stasis pods and he knew the Autobots did not have the means to maintain or build one either. He was also not aware there were any other Cybertronians on the planet. So where was he, and how had he gotten into a stasis pod? The last thing he remembered was fleeing the Nemesis, although….he did have very vague, hazy memories of a crash. Had he been discovered and saved before he could offline? If so, he would have to thank his unexpected savior. Unless, of course, it was an Autobot and he had only been saved so he could be locked away. If that was the case, a bot was going to die here today and it would not be him.

The stasis pod fully disengaged from him, and he was able to step out and onto the floor. He glanced down at himself, humming idly. It seemed that he had been fully repaired either before or while in the pod. That was good for him. He looked around, frowning at his odd surroundings. The location he was in had medical supplies, but was clearly no full medical bay. Perhaps it was only set up for emergencies, then? His wings twitched when he picked up the sound of pede steps beyond the doorway, and his gaze turned towards the sound. After a moment, he realized whoever it was wasn’t coming towards him, but rather they seemed to be…pacing? Yes, that is what it sounded like. Curiosity piqued, Dreadwing strode towards the door, making sure his own steps were quiet so as not to alert the other to his presence. He stepped though, looking around…and his optics blew wide.

It was a youngling. A small, orange and white helicopter bot was pacing back and forth in tight circles in the center of the room. Dreadwing was willing to bet that this little flyer was even younger than the Autobot scout. As the mechling turned to pace in another circle, the Seeker caught sight of the emblem on his chest. At first, he saw only a badge similar to the Autobot brand and his frame began to stiffen. Then the rest of the badge processed in his mind and his vents froze.

The Rescue Bot insignia.

This tiny little flying mechling was a Rescue Bot. But how? Megatron had seen to the destruction of the Rescue Bot headquarters in the early days of the war, and had sent his soldiers to systematically hunt down and offline any who had survived the initial attack or had not been present during it. Dreadwing and his brother had joined the Decepticons after massacre, but it was one the only acts the Decepticons had committed that they had wholly disapproved off. The Rescue Bots had been unaffiliated with any faction. They took an oath of neutrality, a vow to save any and every life they could regardless who who or what that life was. Megatron had wanted them gone because he’d wanted to make a statement, but also because he wanted to deny the Autobots any potential allies or any aid that the Rescue Bots would have given them.

It had been a great loss, and had been one of the reasons Dreadwing had initially wished to avoid choosing one side or the other. The Decepticons, in his mind, took things too far. The Autobots, while more restrained, had initially risen from the regime in which he and his brother had suffered under. But then….Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his city’s destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. He’d gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And now…he was here, betrayed by the one who he as sworn himself to, watching a youngling Rescue Bot pace in nervous circles. It was something that should have been impossible.

Suddenly, the mechling froze, and wide amber optics turned to him. Idly, Dreadwing realized he must have made some noise, and then the little copter was yelping and scrabbling back. He paused, then hurried forward, his hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Before the little one got too close, Dreadwing locked his own sharp, red optics onto him, and the bot froze in place with a startled yip.

For a long moment, there was only silent staring.

——————————

Blades was pacing. There wasn’t much else he could do. The day they had brought back the large Seeker, Heatwave had contacted Optimus. Only, the Prime had very quickly shut him down, explaining they were busy with an issue of “upmost importance” and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadn’t called back. The Seeker was still in stasis, and Heatwave was once against attempting to make contact, for the 15th day in a row. Chase and the Chief were on patrol, and Boulder and the other humans were at Blossom Vale, having a picnic. Blades had opted to remain behind, wanting to keep an eye on the Seeker.

In the time since finding the large mech, Blades had done some research. He’d had to dig around the Sigma’s files, and dig through the files of the computer that connected them to Optimus, as well as dig through the various data-pads that had been left to them by High Tide and Optimus. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he’d been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadn’t been telling them. Now, Blades understood why the War had started. The civil unrest had been a thing even before Sigma-17 had been formed, when he was still in the early days of training, it had been mild, then, but it had been there. So he wasn’t surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadn’t ever been addressed.

He also knew, from the information he’d dug up in his search, that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers had joined the Decepticons. Which meant that his patient was, in all likelihood, a Decepticon himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But he hadn’t told the others his suspicions. Mostly because…something about the situation was odd. Optimus didn’t strike him as the type of mech who would inflict or approve of that type of wound being inflicted on a mech. So unless he had someone on his team who was excessively violent and he couldn’t control, Blades didn’t see that wound coming from the Autobots. Which meant it had come from the Decepticons. Of course, that only raised more questions. Namely, why would they do that to one of their own, if the mech really was a ‘Con? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didn’t want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been all he had learned, in the past few weeks. In one of the data pads High Tide had left about the early days of the war, there had been a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force”. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadn’t ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when he’d first found them..”

“I was not aware Rescue Teams were…still active.”

He’d said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. He’d paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadn’t thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in that one data pad, well…Blades was starting to think that “active” had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didn’t have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasn’t one he liked. It was another reason he was hesitant to share what he suspected about the Seeker. Optimus was keeping vital information from Sigma-17. He didn’t care if the Prime didn’t want them fighting in the War. He agreed that it was a bad idea. But he was withholding information that Blades suspected his team would very much want, and they didn’t even know it.

So here he was, pacing restlessly as his processor turned over the information he got, unsure how or even if he should share it. Would his team even believe him? He doubted they would. He knew they thought he was silly and couldn’t understand complex ideas, but that was far from the truth. After all, of all the Rescue Bots he had the greatest understanding of human nature and culture. His understanding wasn’t always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didn’t mean he understand the why, but he still understood more than any of the others. And sure, he applied most of his ability to learn new information to pop culture rather than the things the others might consider more “worthwhile”, but that was only because pop culture was more fun. Plus, pop culture was where humanity really displayed they way they ticked. Did it really make him that much of an idiot if all that was the case?

He was startled from his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the direction of the make-shift medical bay. The copter glanced in that direction, thinking it was one of his teammates, only to yelp and leap back upon seeing the Seeker. He’d known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Blade’s tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldn’t be used as an identifier of such. Even so, it was another tick in favor of his theory. Then the scene caught up to him, and medical training overrode his temporary moment of panic.

This bot wasn’t supposed to be up yet. In fact, even if he had been fully healed by the pods it was supposed to keep him under until Optimus could arrive. Except….Blades must have put in the settings wrong. He was so used to setting the stasis pods to release once the healing process was complete that he must have input that setting without realizing it. Which…presented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didn’t think his team could handle it. Those thoughts circled in the back of his processor as he directed the bulk of his worry towards making sure his patient was alright. His hands flapped awkwardly as he approached the larger flyer, ready to skim over his frame to check out his condition, when piercing red optics locked onto him. He froze with a high pitched squeak, his own optics blown wide as that gaze pinned him in place.

For a long moment, the two Cybertronians merely stared at each other.

Then Blades, getting increasingly nervous, broke the silence. “Are you okay?” he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. “The stasis pod should have healed you completely, but you were hurt pretty bad. Even most of your paint was gone, though it looks like your color nanintes were able to fix that while you were healing.”

Indeed, the mech standing in front of him was now in full color, his purple and yellow paint bold and bright on his frame. It did seem, however, that he was still missing a faction brand. If he’d ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.

The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didn’t know why Blades was worried. “I am well.” he said carefully. “Are you the one who repaired me?”

“Well, sort of?” Blades’s rotors fluttered against his back. “I’m a triage medic, so I couldn’t fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.”

The Seeker narrowed his eyes. “Team?” he repeated, obviously suspicious.

Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. “We’re Rescue Bots.” he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. “Team Sigma-17. I’m Blades.”

The Seeker was silent for a long moment. “You may call me Dreadwing.” he said slowly. His gaze was still piercing.

Blades nodded, then took a few steps forward, and when Dreadwing made no move to stop him, he closed the gap between them. “Do you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.”

The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems he’d gotten in his triage training to check his patient over. Everything was coming back fine, but with a wound as serious as his had been Blades away taking no chances.

“You are a Rescue Bot.” Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.

“Yep. Me, Boulder, Chase, and Heatwave. We crashed here a while ago and Prime stationed us on this island to act as a rescue team for the locals.” he explained distractedly.

Dreadwing made a soft hum. “Prime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?”

Blades frowned. “He knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We haven’t been able to contact him lately though.” He was too focused on his task to think about whether he should actually,be answering so freely. The second question gave him pause, though. “No? At least, not really? We’re a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We can’t side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.” He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. “We’re more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we don’t know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.” He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much he’d shared. “Uhhh….”

Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. “Yes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.” he rumbled. His expression darkened. “I understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.”

This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimus’s first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. “What?” he asked weakly.

Dreadwing stared. “You were not told?” he sounded…angry. “That is foolish. It is not a pleasant tale, but you should have been told if only to ensure you understand the importance of your existence remaining secret.”

Blades swallowed. “Optimus doesn’t really tell us much of anything about the War, and the data pads he leaves only really cover the basic and important bits, not the details.” he whispered. “Does…does Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the “end of the Rescue Force”? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldn’t find any details other than that one phrase.”

Dreadwing’s gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. “Yes.” he said bluntly. “In the early days of the War, Megatron grew angry that the Rescue Bots aligned with no faction, and he wanted to deprive the Autobots of any who might aid or help them. He ordered the destruction of the Rescue Force. The Headquarters was destroyed, and all Rescue Bots present were massacred. Any who survived, and any who had not been present in the initial attack, were systematically hunted and slain.”

Blades’s knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwing’s chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didn’t protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.

“But that would mean…”

“You and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.”

The copter’s knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Blades’s vocalizer, and the Seeker blessedly said nothing and made no moves to push as the youngling processed the new information.

It was, of course, that moment that the others chose to return.

——————————

Part 2

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XXI - - - - Part XXII - - - - Part XXIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Ahsoka watched normal space slip away with a numb sort of disbelief.

Somehow she couldn’t quite accept that her Masters would actually—she felt small and selfish to even think that this was them abandoning her, considering Obi-Wan’s life might—but still—she was rapidly exiting the inner-rim and Obi-Wan and Skyguy were...somewhere else. Even after breaking orbit, she had childishly half-expected one of them to jump out with a wild explanation of how the whole thing was a huge misunderstanding, or a crazy scheme—or—some kind of explanation. And now she was back in hyperspace, on her way back to the front, alone. Master Skywalker’s presences felt closed off, and far-away—she hadn’t even sensed Master Kenobi on Coruscant.

She hadn’t even gotten to see him...

She was startled out of her slowly sharpening melancholy by the sudden clasp of a hand on her shoulder.

“You alright there, Commander?” Rex asked softly. Ahsoka stiffened her spine. Right, Obi-Wan and Anakin hadn’t just disappeared on her—she wasn’t actually alone, and she had a duty to the men who were here.

“Just thinking about crushing some Clankers,” she replied over-brightly. “How’s the Resolute holding up?”

“Same hiccup with gravity in the kitchens during the jump—it seems they didn’t have time to actually fix the issue when we were in dock, but we were prepared for it so it wasn’t too messy,” Rex replied, hands falling into a loose grip behind his back as slipped into his ‘Captain Reporting’ voice. “A few odd issues with our communications systems, but I’ve got men on it; I’m told it’s nothing to worry about, and should be back to normal by tomorrow. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Ahsoka nodded. “And the troops?” she asked lightly.

Rex was silent for a moment. “Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private,” he responded finally.

“Of course.”

She followed him from the observation port to an unused briefing space a few decks down, cheerfully greeting each vod they passed, all of whom radiated relief at the sight of the familiar Jedi commander. Another pang of guilt passed through her. She should have already been greeting the men, not wallowing in self-pity. They knew even less than she did about their missing Generals. She had to be more of Jedi than usual, not less. What would Skyguy think of her moping? What would Master Kenobi—

She smiled at another passing group, one of whom she recognized as a Snow Wolf.

“Commander Tano!” he cried. “We had heard rumors—” Another soldier shut him up with an elbow to the gut.

Ahsoka smiled harder. “At ease, Mit,” she said, relieving him from his hasty salute. “I know there’s rumors flying around about, ah, General Skywalker’s and General Kenobi’s special assignment, but I’m sorry to say that you guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Mit and the others chuckled briefly at the admittedly weak joke.

“Rex and I have to be off now but It’s a long flight to the Expansion Zone; I’m sure I’ll see your faces again,” she said with a snappy two-fingered salute, striding off before they could work up the courage to ask any follow-up questions.

“As you were,” Rex ordered, and the Captain and Commander continued on their way.

Finally they stepped into the quiet room, door snapping shut. Ahsoka composed herself for a moment, plastering on a confident smile before turning to face Rex.

“What did you want to talk about, Captain?” she asked, falling backwards into a seat and looking up at the Captain with careful casualness.

Rex pulled off his helmet. His expression cracked Ahsoka in half.

“You don’t have to do that with me, Commander Tano. I know General Kenobi’s not on a mission,” he said quietly, voice as sad as his eyes. “Cody and I—and I think Waxer, we’re the only vode who’ve been read in on...what Kenobi tried to do.”

She looked away from that pitying, pitiful gaze, eyes suddenly burning.

“The last direct news I got was more than two days ago,” she finally said, giving up on the act and slumping forward as Rex set his helmet gently on the table. “Skyguy called me to ask a bunch of weird question and told me...you know. I felt Master Kenobi’s presence earlier this—kriff this was just this morning...” she trailed off.

“Language,” he corrected automatically. She chuckled wetly and absently pulled out a chair for him with a wave of her hand. He settled into it stiffly.

“I found out the night of,” Rex admitted. “They called Cody to ask about—about possible toxins. I think they were just searching for any kind of explanation. They let me visit him yesterday—”

Ahsoka hunched further and Rex paused for a moment before continuing awkwardly.

“It just looked like he was sleeping—healers said he was physically doing fine, so. I’m not a medic, but he’s definitely really well cared for.” Rex cleared his throat. “In terms of General Skwalker, I, uh, got a message from him the night before it happened about something completely unrelated, then nothing for three days, then a message before dawn this morning saying he had to ‘step down due to personal failures’ and he ‘trusted me to lead the 501st in his stead.’ Wrote that he needed to ‘earn his current rank.’”

Ahsoka’s head snapped up, intense focus charging the room. Rex let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I commed him right back, and he said that it was ‘partially about Obi-Wan, but more about past wrongdoing’. He apologized for abandoning me and the rest of the 501st, but told me he had to work on ‘his judgement’ before he could trust himself to act as General. The official memo about their temporarily absence from the command structure, for ‘undisclosed reasons’ came out about 5 minutes after we talked. Along with the promotion of Krell and General Tiin.”

“He messaged you this morning? He stepped down voluntarily?” she asked, feeling betrayed all-over again. “What the kriff?”

“Did he—he told me he was planning on comming you once you were closer to Coruscant...” he asked, looking at her hesitantly.

She let out a frustrated snarl, chair falling to the ground with a clatter as she began pacing the room. “Well he didn’t!” she ranted, attempting to stalk off her frustration. “Something more must have happened, and the council doesn’t want us to know what! What you saw on the loading dock was all the information anyone gave me! For all I know they’re both dead!”

Rex inhaled sharply and the padawan attempted to backtrack her words. “No, I don’t mean that, I can sense Skyguy he’s just—distant.”

“But you can’t sense General Kenobi,” he said grimly.

“I don’t have a direct training bond with him,” she replied severely. “And he’s good at shielding, and he’s usually—it’s not like he’s the loudest Jedi, you know?”

“You said you felt his presence this morning?” he pressed. “General Tiin and Krell did too, I think. Tiin seemed relieved at first but then—”

“He disappeared,” Ahsoka said quietly. “It’s like he reached out and then—it wasn’t even like letting go he just stopped.”

“Krell said he died,” the Captain reported matter-of-factly.

Ahsoka flinched. “There are—there’s other explanations. He might have just pulled up his shields really abruptly. It—I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I’ve felt Jedi die before and it doesn’t usually feel like that.”

Rex shifted awkwardly. The tortugan padawan paced back and forth, trying to release her helpless uncertainty into the force.

“Do you think it’s possible they might be on a special assignment?” he asked wearily. “I mean, it makes more sense in some ways that General Kenobi was just setting up some really intense cover for himself, and—and—General Skywalker got—accidentally wrapped up in it.”

Commander Tano rubbed her temples. “I wanted to think that too...I mean, it would be a pretty messed up choice of cover story, but...I really don’t think so” she said finally. “Skyguy was trying to put on a brave face when he talked to me but he was pretty—I’ve never seen him so destroyed—I mean getting shot down on the battlefield is one thing, but losing someone because—because you didn’t tell them how much you appreciated them, or because you added to their alright insane workload just through your presence—”

Suddenly Rex was in-front of her, chair scraped back and hands on her shoulders. “I’ve been through this was Cody, and I’ll go through it with you again as many times as it takes—you cannot blame yourself for this.”

She looked away. His hands tightened. “I’m serious,” he said emphatically. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you and Cody are the best of the best—if there was any warning sign to see, any enemy to fight, you would have identified it, fought back, won. I’m sorry, but the whole high council was surprised too, and they see him often enough! It’s—the whole situation’s kriffed up but it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I’m sorry Skyguy stepped down on you—”

“That’s not your fault either—”

“Yeah, I know, you’re repeating yourself Captain—”

“Well, it’s hard to tell if you’re listening sometimes—”

Ahsoka gasped theatrically. “Is that anti-montral sentiment? I think it might be, after special Kamino sensitivity training too—”

“More like anti-anti-helmet sentiment. Seriously you’d think—”

“I’m a Jedi and I practice ataru. Armor would just—”

“—’slow you down’ I know, I know.”

Ahsoka giggled and the two of them found themselves wandering over to the small viewport, watching stars distort and stretch as they sped along the hyperlane.

“Have you—are you familiar with Krell?” Rex eventually asked.

“Not really,” Ahsoka admitted, wrinkling her brow. “I know he’s a pretty talented duelist—he’s got his own four armed Jar’kai style that’s apparently almost impossible to do anything against, but I’ve never actually gotten to see it in action—I don’t remember him hanging around the temple much growing up, and I’m not really certain where he’s been stationed during the war. I guess Master Windu assigned me to 501st duties so specifically so I wouldn’t bother him too much for sparring practice while he’s figuring out his duties? What’s your read on him?”

Rex radiated discomfort and Ahsoka eyed him cautiously.

“I haven’t—seen him on the battlefield. I’m sure he’s very capable. He’s not the most...respectful Jedi I’ve met.”

Ahskoa smirked. “Well, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right? If he gets the job done? I mean once you got a jetpack you made it your personal mission to throw Anakin of a cliff as often as possible! And Kix stole all of Anakin’s pants after he kept escaping bacta and messing up Medical.”

“I don’t mean respectful like that, Commander,” Rex said quietly.

“What do you mean, then?” she asked, feeling a prickle of unease.

“It’s nothing to worry about right now, but I’d—appreciate if we could talk about your...impression after our limpet meeting with the Negotiator tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Captain. We’re—we’re in this together, right?” Ashoka replied hesitantly. For the first time that conversation, she reached out to him, softly placing a hand on his arm and desperately trying to press her tangled feelings of friendship, loyalty, and gratitude through the force.

Rex smiled, seeming to get the message. “Yeah Commander,” he responded hoarsely. “We’re in it this together.”

Part XXV

#star wars #star wars au #ahsoka tano #captain rex #star wars fanfiction #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27

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monako-jinn-stories · 3 years

Text

Cody X Fem!Jedi Reader

Kenoa Gon Jinn

This has been sitting for about a month and I finally finished it. I hope you find it as cute as I did

Master List

Warnings:

Fluff, angst, reader is pregnant throughout most of this, not too descriptive on pregnancy

You sighed contently as you lay wrapped in the grasp of your clone lovers arms. He pulled you slightly closer as he nuzzled his cheek onto the top of your head. If three years ago someone would have told you that someday, you and Cody would be this happy, this in love, you wouldn’t have believed them. You would have told them you weren’t stupid enough to fall in love with Obi Wan’s commander. How wrong you would have been. Especially when you had found out you were pregnant with your clone lovers baby.

When you had found out, you had been terrified. You had sobbed on your bathroom floor, not knowing what to do or who to tell. As a Jedi, you weren’t supposed to have attachments. You didn’t know what having a child would mean. Would you be able to raise them? Or would you have to give them away, possibly to someone living where you would never be able to see them? And what would Cody say? He was, after all, a clone. He wasn’t exactly father material, and with his rapid aging, he wouldn’t be able to grow old with you either. These worries quickly faded, however, when you finally gained the courage to tell someone. You confided in your close friend, senator Padmé Amidala. You had been close friends, because as a child, when you were just Princess Monako of Dohbar, you had met on a diplomatic trip. Now, as queen of Dohbar and a Jedi, you were able to grow closer. She had advised you that it was best to tell Cody, even if his reaction was not what you wanted. She also agreed that if you had to, she would help you find a suitable home for your baby.

You had decided to take Cody to Dohbar, telling him that you needed a clone escort and the troopers from your battalion were busy. He happily agreed, having a chance to be alone with you again. You had wanted to wait until you got to your palace, so you could be in the comfort of your home when you told him. However, on the way there, you had been acting very nervous in the cabin of the ship, and he of course noticed and was worried. When he asked you what was wrong, you looked into his eyes before bursting into tears.

“C-Cody, I’m so sorry!” You cried.

“Sorry? Love what are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything!”

You shook your head, before managing to say, “yes I have. Cody, I’m pregnant!” He was silent when you said this, holding your hands as he was squatting in front of you. Your hands began to shake as you waited for a response, trying to be as quiet as possible while crying. Your mind instantly went to the worst when he didn’t respond right away, and you looked through your tears at his blank expression that was staring off into the distance.

“Pregnant…” he muttered, still staring at the wall behind you. You tried not to sob as he finally moved his eyes to meet yours. When they did, after a brief second, the biggest and happiest smile you had ever seen on anyone burst onto his face.

“Pregnant? Love, we’re having a baby?!” He said, voice getting louder with excitement as he squeezed your hands tightly.

Your voice shook as you asked, “you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Y/n, I’m ecstatic! I’m going to be a father! We’re going to be a family!” He was standing now, practically jumping in place. He pulled you up out of your seat and engulfed you in a rib-crushing hug before suddenly letting go, worry spreading over his features.

“Maker! I shouldn’t be squeezing you! Are you okay? Did that hurt? Do you think that hurt the baby?” He quickly rambled, causing you to laugh as your tears had stopped flowing. You grabbed his hands with yours, and gently pulled them forward, gaining his attention again.

“Relax, Cody. I’m fine, and you didn’t hurt the baby.”

“Oh, thank the maker,” he sighed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them with a mischievous smile. He leaned down and gently kissed you, holding your cheek in one hand. You smiled into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He pulled back quickly, a new look of fear in his eyes.

“What in the galaxy are we going to tell Obi Wan and the Jedi?” He questioned seriously. You could sense the panic starting to come from him. You bit your lip, thinking.

“That’s the one thing I haven’t figured out yet,” you admitted.

He looked at you, then a gentle smile played over his lips.

“Whatever we do,” he said, “we do it together.” You smiled as he let one hand trail down to your waist, the other going to rest on your stomach. You weren’t far along, but you were beginning to show a small bump.

“So, was this trip just so you could get me alone?” He asked playfully.

You giggled to yourself before responding, “yes, I wanted to tell you in private, I thought it was best.”

“Well, we should probably turn the ship around and go tell everyone else then, shouldn’t we?”

You groaned slightly at this, which made him laugh.

“I was hoping for a little vacation on Dohbar.”

“We can’t put this off, y/n. We need to tell everyone soon.” You groaned again, causing him to playfully flick your nose.

“We’ll tell them together?” You asked.

“Together,” he repeated, giving you one last kiss before going to reroute the ship.

Obi Wan, of course was the first person to greet you when you landed.

“Back so soon?” He questioned, as you walked off with Cody trailing behind you.

“Whats got you in such a good mood?” He questioned his commander. Cody looked at you before looking back at his general.

“That’s something we should discuss inside,” he responded vaguely. Obi Wan looked at you and raised an eyebrow, to which you shrugged in response.

“Very well,” he said, leading you into the Jedi temple. Obi Wan of course knew of you and Cody’s “closeness,” but had always put it to the back of his mind as he always had more important things to worry about, like whatever Anakin was up to. He led you into a small room that contained a table meant for a holomap and other small computers.

“So,” he turned to you, looking suspiciously from you to Cody, “what do you need to tell me?” You took a deep breath before you spoke.

“You have to agree not to say a word to anyone, okay? At least not yet,” you started. Obi Wan’s suspicion only grew, but he silently nodded, waiting for what was coming. You took a deep breath and before you could say it, the words burst excitedly from Cody’s mouth.

“Of course, only Qui-Gon’s daughter would fall in love with MY commander, and fall pregnant with his child,” Obi Wan mumbled to himself, face in his hands.

“Well, if it means anything, I think you should be honored that your former master’s daughter is having a child with your best trooper,” Cody tried to joke, earning a glare from Obi Wan. You gave him a look that said “at least you tried,” before looking at Obi Wan again.

“How many other people know?”

“Just you, us, and Padmé.” Obi Wan nodded, hand resting on his chin in his signature thinking pose.

“And what do you plan to do with it? The council will not be happy about this, and they certainly won’t want you to continue fighting in the war while pregnant.”

You bit your lip. You and Cody hadn’t thought that far.

“I suppose I’ll do what I have to when the time comes,” you replied.

“And what about Cody?” Cody looked down and scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh, sir, I’m not sure either. I mean, I want this baby, just as much as y/n, but my duty is to the republic,” he said, almost sadly. “But I can’t not be apart of its life.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to figure out a way to be both in the war and raise your child, then,” Obi Wan said. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Cody brought you treats everyday after you told him. Whether it was a piece of chocolate or the last pretzel, he always made sure you got it. And oh boy, when you started to show more, he would marvel at your bump for what seemed like hours. His eyes held the most excited twinkle, and he would ramble on about little nothings, talking to your baby while his hands held you.

The first time he felt a kick, he actually squealed. He had been resting his cheek against your bump, rubbing the other side with his hand, making slow circles. It had caught him by surprise, hitting right where his cheek laid. When he realized what it was, he let out another excited noise and sat up, staring at your bump as if it was the most amazing thing in the galaxy. And to him, it was.

Every night, he held you while you slept. He insisted that he had to hold you and protect you, especially when you were almost to your due date. His arms would wrap around to securely hold your back to his chest, his hands resting on your stomach where your baby grew. Every morning he swore he had felt your little ik’aad growing through the night.

It was nearly impossible for Kenobi to get Cody to go on a mission without an argument, especially when you neared the end. Cody insisted that he had to be by your side, because if he missed the birth of your child, he would never forgive himself. Kenobi would then turn to you, silently begging you to convince Cody to go. You reluctantly would, hating to see the worry in Cody’s eyes as they studied you.

“Are you sure? I really can stay if you want me to,” he would ask every time.

“Yes, I’m sure. Obi Wan needs you more right now than I do. I promise, I’ll still be the same when you get back.”

He would then kiss your head and bend down to kiss your bump. He would keep his helmet off to watch you until the boarding ramp closed, blocking you from his view.

The names you discussed were completely ridiculous, mostly Cody’s suggestions. You wanted to include your father, Qui Gon, and he wanted to include Obi Wan, so he tried coming up with mixes, which never sounded good.

“What about Obi Gon?”

“Maker, no!”

“Qui Wan?”

“Cody, please tell me you can think of something better.”

“Quobi Wangon?”

“At this rate, I might just ask Anakin to name it.”

“Well, what are your ideas?”

You were silent when he asked, having no idea how to include both names into your child.

“See, it’s harder than it seems,” he teased before leaning down to kiss your forehead as you sat cuddled on your couch.

“We’ll think of something. We don’t need a name now,” you assured him.

“Obiqui Gonwan.”

“Okay, get out,” you jokingly stated, pointing to your door.

“Never,” he said, burying his face into the crook of your neck and blowing a raspberry, causing you to giggle.

Like Obi Wan predicted, the council was far from happy, and once you hit 5 standard months, they wouldn’t allow you to participate in battles anymore. Instead, you spent your time with them at the temple, coming up with different plans and relaying information to the other Jedi generals.

You spent your free time with Padmé, where she would gush over your baby as much as Cody. She tried to help with names, but she often strayed from incorporating both your father and Cody’s General. She was thrilled to be the Godmother, although you were less than certain about making Anakin The Godfather.

“Come on, I’m not that bad,” he insisted when you brought it up to him. Cody merely raised an eyebrow and gave you a look.

“We we’re going to make it General Kenobi,” Cody said, “but we decided it would probably be best to have the Godmother and Godfather as a couple.”

If Obi Wan thought it was hard getting Cody to leave when you were just near your end, then he would find it impossible to get him to go anywhere when it came to the week before your due date. Cody absolutely refused to be anywhere but by your side, at all times of the day. It would have annoyed you if you couldn’t feel everything Cody was feeling through the force. The poor trooper was so beyond terrified of messing up, of missing even the smallest part of this journey.

And when your labor started, he was only a few feet away from you. He had taken you away to Dohbar so that you could have your baby on your home world.

“Cody! My water just broke!”

“What? What do yo- oh. OH!” He quickly rushed over to you, panic lining his eyes.

“What do I do? What do you need?” He frantically asked, hands not knowing where to go.

“Just help me get to the palace med area,” you said, knees almost buckling as what you presumed was a contraction ripped through your body. You felt Cody’s arm snake around you as he helped you get to where the nurses would be. He nervously fidgeted and paced around as the doctors and nurses checked on you. He let you break his fingers as you squeezed his hand through the pain. He gave you quiet affirmations and encouragements as you went through all this for the both of you.

When he saw your daughter, you saw his world break from the love he felt. You watched as he nearly collapsed when he heard her little cries. He very cautiously took her from the nurse and held her to his bare chest. His lips were parted in the cutest expression of shock, and his eyes held tears at the edges. He gently ran a finger down her cheek, and when he did, she stopped crying and looked up at him. When she did, it was his turn to start crying. The tears poured from his eyes as he held her, entranced by the little bundle of joy in his arms.

Your happy little family only lasted for a standard week, as Cody was called back to Coruscant urgently. He was to join Obi Wan and the 212th for a mission to Utapau. The end of the war was coming, and you could feel change in the force. You kissed him a tearful goodbye, him giving Kenoa Gon Jinn one last little tummy tickle that elicited the cutest laugh from her gummy mouth before he flew off.

~~~

You found Cody before he found you. You saw him kneeling on the ground, tear stains running down his dirty cheeks. You felt the pain and anger coming from him. He didn’t know you were there, although he had been tracking you. You knew part of it was him following orders from the Empire, searching for Jedi that may have survived, but part of it was also him, needing you in his arms again.

You approached him slowly, making sure he wouldn’t notice you until you were close enough to defend yourself without hurting him.

“Cody…” you called quietly, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. You felt the air around him change. It held so much conflict, the chip battling with his true desires.

“Get away from me!” He cried out, hands shaking as he clenched them into fists, turning his head to look at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Cody!”

“I’m going to kill you!” He cried out. It was half a warning, half a threat.

You watched his eyes glaze over as he reached for his blaster with a shaking hand. He placed his other to his head, as if he was trying to soothe a pain.

“Please!” He choked out between clenched teeth.

“No, Cody! I’m bringing you home with me!”

His eyes met yours and the familiarity drained from them. He raised his blaster and with a trembling finger, pulled the trigger. You jumped out of the way, only for him to follow you, keeping the barrel pointed at your chest. You kept moving, inching your way closer to him. Once you were close enough, you knocked his blaster from his grip and kicked it as far as you could. He watched it for a brief second before turning to look at you.

You saw the man you had fallen in love with for a second before the chip showed itself again. He lunged forwards, trying to grasp his hand around your throat. You wrestled with him to the ground, fighting to keep his hands from harming you. If he did, you knew that when you got his chip removed, he would feel endless guilt for it.

You finally managed to gain some leverage over him, and pinned him below you. He struggled to free himself as you pushed his arms down with the force, not wanting to hurt him. You used your free hand to pull his blaster to you.

“I’m sorry, Cody,” you said as you aimed it at him. You saw the fear in his eyes before you pulled the trigger.

“How are you doing?” You asked as you walked in to the recovery room. Cody, who was using one arm to cradle your baby against him, ran his free hand over the bandage over where his chip had been removed.

“Not sure I like the haircut,” he joked, “but I’m more than relieved that I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“So I can finally do this?” You asked as you walked over and gently held his face, bringing your lips to meet his. He kissed you back, desperation and need in every second of it. He pulled back and looked deeply into your eyes. You saw his own pain and regret, and it broke your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. “I-I don’t understand what happened. It’s like I didn’t have a choice over my actions anymore. I tried-,” his voice broke for a second as he looked down at your daughter, tears coming to his eyes. “I tried to kill you. I tried to kill Kenobi...”

“It wasn’t your fault, Cody,” you said, squeezing his hand back. “You didn’t have a choice. I’ll explain it all to you later, but right now, I have a gift for you.” You stood up and walked over to a small box you had brought. You picked it up and gently handed it to him and took your little girl from his arm, reaching to wipe a tear from his face as he held the box.

“I don’t deserve a gift,” he mumbled. You shook your head.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this.”

He looked up at you before he carefully opened the box. Inside was a serum and a needle.

“Are you trying to poison me?” He asked, and his tone was only half joking.

“Of course not. When I first met my battalion, I instantly became friends with them. And then I met you, and I fell in love. Those bonds led me to ask my Kaminoan friend to create a serum that will slow down your aging. No one else ever knew, except my battalion. They’ve been using it since it was finished, and it’s completely safe. Cody,” you said, “I want to live with you until we’re both old. I want to raise Kenoa Gon together. I want you to be able to see your grandchildren.”

His eyes held tears again, but this time a smile on his face told you they were happy tears.

“It really works?” He asked. “I can actually live with you like a normal person?” You nodded your head, and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Love, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You smiled and replied, “and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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#star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #clone trooper #clone troopers #cody x you #cody x reader #clone trooper cody #clone wars cody #cody #commander cody #star wars fluff #star wars angst #star wars imagines #jinn the story teller 🤍🤍#pregnancy

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colehasapen · 3 years

Text

(ONE SHOT) you’ve got to run far from all you’ve ever known STAR WARS

Febuwhump no.3 - Imprisonment

A03

As he’s carried through the oppressive halls of the Star Destroyer, Rex’s entire body aches and his stomach rolls. His head is fuzzy, the result of the stunner that had taken him down, and his chest aches where the Purge Trooper had tackled him.

He had been on Felucia, following a potential lead on Bly’s location, when he’d run into the trooper in black. He’s only heard rumours of Purge Troopers, of Stormtroopers so elite that they’d earned their own classification and higher quality weapons. Made to specifically hunt Jedi survivors, Purge Troopers were well known for never leaving survivors, and for fighting until they couldn’t fight anymore. They were rarely ever seen among the rank and file, only given the most dangerous of missions, and they were rumoured to be among the best of the clones.

Rex had been tracking any leads he could, to rescue any vode possible, but even after five years, it seemed like an impossible task. He’d gotten both Gregor and Wolffe out, but neither had had an activated chip, too damaged by the head trauma they’d received during the Clone Wars, but neither were in a good place to run missions. He had gone to Cut, had helped him remove his own and take his family deeper into hiding so that the Empire couldn’t find them. He knows that Clone Force 99 is free, he exchanges encrypted comms with Echo on a regular basis, but they never meet up, unwilling to lead possible tails to each other. Rex’s strength had been his anonymity; the Empire thought him dead, that he’d died with the rest of his men when the ship went down, and his face was simply that of another clone if he kept his hair disguised. It allowed him to sneak behind lines and collect intelligence to pass on to the fledgling Rebellion, because no one was looking for him. He had heard a passing rumour of Bly possibly being on Felucia, being on the planet where his Jedi had been killed, and Rex had acted as quickly as he could; he’d known what was going on between Bly and his General during the War, knew that the Commander didn’t just think of her as a General, and he knew that if he didn’t find him fast enough, there likely wouldn’t be anything to save.

He had been right. He’d found Bly, found him where he knew Bly would have wanted to be, and he’d kneeled in front of those two graves and begged for forgiveness. For not being fast enough, for not listening to Fives, for not being there. The rumours had been right; Bly had been on Felucia, but he was already gone.

Someone had gone through the trouble of burying both the Jedi and the Commander, had known Bly well enough to know that he’d want to be buried with his Jedi, and Rex had wondered how long it could have possibly been - how the rumours could have been sparked.

Then he’d picked up Bly’s bucket, intent on giving his ori’vod one final kov’nyn while he said his Remembrances, and he’d seen the blinking light of an activated signal.

Someone had staged it. Someone had known that a free clone would come looking if a signal was picked up, and had planted a trap at the same time as they buried Rex’s brother.

He hadn’t even had time to pull out his blasters before the Purge Trooper had been bearing down on him.

Rex doesn’t know how long he’s been unconscious since the trooper stunned him, he doesn’t know why he was taken alive, all he knows is that there are stun cuffs humming around his wrists and the Purge Trooper has him slung effortlessly over his shoulder like he were nothing more than a sack of tubers. Rex is almost a little offended; he knows he’s lost weight since starting his hunt, knows that he hasn’t had the chance to eat the way that his metabolism demands when he’s not on Seelos where Gregor can fuss over him and shove food that tastes like ash down his throat - he has no doubt that his brother can cook, and cook well, but Rex just doesn’t have the energy to taste what he makes, just goes through the motions of chewing and swallowing to make Gregor happy and reduce Wolffe’s stress - but he hadn’t thought he’d lost enough mass to make it easy on the clone carrying him. He’s slung over a surprisingly soft pauldron, staring foggily down at the Purge Trooper’s swaying kama, and he wonders if he knows this trooper, wonders if he could knock the bucket off and place their face.

Maybe he could sway them away from the chip’s programming.

“Commander.” A voice Rex doesn’t recognize, can’t see, says, and the Purge Trooper pauses, gait skipping slightly. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve captured a traitor to the Empire, Sir.” The Purge Trooper says drolly, like they were annoyed at the interruption. “I’m taking the clone to the brig, so that it can be transferred to Kamino for repairs and reconditioning.”

Rex’s stomach drops, heart fluttering in fear. If he was taken back to Kamino, the Longnecks would put the chip back in his head, and everything that made him Rex would be gone again. Panic flares in his mind like a heavy fog, threatening to drown him with the memories of staring down his blaster at Ahsoka’s scared face and not recognizing her as his vod’ika and Commander. He hadn’t seen her as anything but a target, someone to execute - a traitor, not even a person, and if he hadn’t warned her before being dragged under in that split second of horrified realization that Fives had been right, then she’d likely be dead.

“Trooper,” The Purge Trooper’s superior sounds annoyed, like they were dealing with a child that kept bringing feral animals into their bed. It’s almost the exact tone of voice Rex had to use when Tup had tried to slip a ‘therapy animal’ onto the Resolute. “You know your orders. Any rogue clone is to be executed, not detained. If you continue to ignore regulations, I’ll have no choice but to have you returned for retraining.” The Imperial sighs, sounding tired. “I’ve already been far too lenient with your… defectiveness … because of your skills.”

“CT-7567 is an exemplary soldier, sir, and can be put to use once repairs are complete.” The Purge Trooper argues, and Rex lets out a punchy little breath of shock where he’s still playing dead on the trooper’s shoulder. “He’s one of the best, General.”

They know who he is.

“And that’s what you claimed the last time.” The Imp growls, “Right before CT-9021 destroyed itself and the transport it was on. That wasn’t even the first time either. Execute the clone and dispose of it, it’s my position on the line if I allow your defect to cause any more damage to the Empire.”

The Purge Trooper’s entire body shudders at the order, and Rex’s hands clench against the other clone’s thigh. There’s a stun baton hanging off of the trooper’s hip, if he could reach it, Rex could possibly try to fight his way out of the situation he’s found himself in. But there’s an entire cruiser between him and escape, a cruiser he doesn’t know how to navigate with an unknown amount of Stormtrooper, of which is an unknown percentage of chipped vode, and there’s active stuff cuffs around his wrists.

“Sir, the Empire would lose a powerful asset-”

“CC-2224, execute the traitor.”

Rex jolts, and it’s not just because he’s been dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. His head is ringing, his chest aches from the harsh landing so soon after taking on a fully armoured Purge Trooper, but all he can think is that it’s Cody .

Codycodycody - he’s here, he was just holding Rex. He had Cody within his grasp, after five years of desperately searching for him, looking for any sign that his ori’vod had survived Order 66. Cody had been collecting unchipped clones, bringing them back to the Empire despite his orders to kill them. The big brother that had found Rex hidden away from the eyes of the Kaminoans all those years ago is still there, still thinking underneath the thrall of the chip, still trying to protect any vod he could, just like how he had once promised to protect Rex from decommissioning.

Cody is staring down at him from behind the glowing red visor of a Purge Trooper, Rex can see the reflection of his wide eyes in the glossy black of his armour. He barely notices the blaster being leveled at him, too caught up with desperately trying to see his brother underneath the unfamiliar helmet.

“Cody.” His voice breaks - gods, it must have been Cody who buried Bly, Cody who was probably one of the few people who truly understood the position Bly had found himself in when he’d fallen in love with someone he could never have. Clad in armour so different from those that Cody had chosen, had so lovingly painted to represent a part of him that the Longnecks would have never allowed, Cody just stares back. “Cody - it’s you.” He’s almost too relieved to see him to feel the fear of his imminent execution. “You’re alive.” Rex’s voice is bordering on reverent, but he can’t bring himself to care. It had been five years since he had last seen his brother. “Force - I’ve been looking everywhere for you -” he lets out a faint laugh, “- of course you would be the one to find me instead.” His eyes flicker down momentarily, to look at the blaster aimed for his chest, shaking faintly, and a bitterly sad smile lifts his lips. “Well. I doubt this is the meeting either of us had in mind.” Rex raises his gaze once more to the expressionless helmet his brother was wearing, face illuminated in crimson.

If he were going to die, he’d rather it be looking into Cody’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Cody.” He soothes, “It’s okay. It’s not you - I don’t blame you.” Cody’s body shivers, “I love you, ori’vod.”

Cody’s entire body jerks, twists, and Rex’s acceptance falls away to shock as his brother swings around to face the Imperial in white. The blaster fires, and the General drops, a smoking hole in their chest, their expression a dying mask of stunned confusion.

“Cody?”

“-execute the traitor.” Cody’s mumble is barely audible through his bucket, as his shaking hands fumble to throw his blaster as far away as possible. “Execute the traitor to the Empire. CT-7567 is an asset the Empire can’t lose.” He jerks again, movement punchy, as he moves towards Rex now and wordlessly lifts him to his feet. “How many - how many - how many are traitors?”

“Cody?” Rex repeats, stunned, as his brother hauls him through the halls, “What the kriff was that?”

“General Medenhall was a traitor to the Empire.” Cody mutters, voice frantic. “Putting his own needs above those of the Empire. CT-7567 is an asset the Empire can’t lose. He had too much control on the ship. The others are traitors too.” Rex doesn’t even think that Cody is talking to him, wonders if Cody had ever been talking to him. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of his words - or trying to convince the chip.

“Cody you mad genius.” Rex says in numb shock, joy blooming in his chest.

Cody was fighting the chip.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” Cody hisses, grip tightening on Rex’s elbow to the point that it was almost painful, giving him a faint shake, and Rex gets the message to shut up and let his brother concentrate on the chip in his head. He shuts his mouth and lets his older brother drag him through the halls. “My orders were to execute the traitor. General Medenhall was the traitor. The asset needs to be secured.”

No Stormtrooper they pass looks twice at them, none of them seem to pick up that their General had just been killed and that the Purge Trooper that they all carefully don’t look at is muttering to himself. None of them seem to notice that he’s imprisoned in his own mind, fighting desperately against the chains. None of them seem to care that he’s dragging a prisoner behind him to Force knows where.

None of them stop them from reaching the shuttle bay, none of them stop them as Cody leads him onto a ship and closes the ramp behind them.

“Holy kriff Cody.” Rex whispers in awe, “You always were too competent for anyone’s good.”

Cody shakes his head, releasing his arm, but he doesn’t step away. Quivering hands grip at a black helmet, and Cody sways momentarily before he’s ripping off the Purge Trooper bucket and throwing it against the floor with enough force to make it bounce away from them with the sound of cracking plastoid.

For the first time in five years, Rex gets to see his brother’s face.

He looks younger than Rex now, his face is less lined by age, somehow, like he had actually aged only the five years a natborn would have, but his temples have started to gray. It’s still his brother’s face, still the face that had haunted Rex’s nightmares for the last five years, when he hadn’t known if his brother was alive or dead. His scar is even more faded than it had been the last time he had seen him, had been given the chance to heal, the stress lines still etched into his forehead from scowling at datapads too often.

It really is Cody.

Dark wetness drips from his brother’s nose, tracing across the pained scowl twisting his lips, and his eyes look bloodshot, and Rex wonders how much pain his ori’vod is in from fighting against his chip and its programming.

Fuck, he doesn’t know if Cody can fly in this state.

His gaze slides to the shock baton at his brother’s waist once more.

Slowly, making sure not to alert him, Rex reaches, curls his fingers around the hilt, and before Cody can react, he’s sliding it free. He activates it quickly, and, with an apologetic wince, the former Captain presses the sparking weapon against the unprotected patch of his brother’s side. Cody is seizing up immediately. He instinctively tries to pull away, but Rex follows. He blocks out the garbled noises of agony his brother releases, ignores the tears tracing through the grime on both of their faces, and he holds it there until Cody slumps, twitching, but blissfully unconscious.

“Sorry, brother.” Rex whispers, fumbling through his brother’s belt until he finds the key to his cuffs, and he’s barely aware of swapping them onto Cody’s wrists instead, as a last resort if he woke up while they were flying. “Sorry.”

Dead to the world, but no longer under the fist of the Empire, Cody doesn’t answer.

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42 @tumceteri-fratres

#cole writes #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday3 #captain rex #commander cody #imprisonment #purge trooper cody #Post Order 66 #alternate universe #where's cody filoni?#star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #minor character death

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esamastation · 3 years

Note

Codywan prompt: CC-2224 was among the command clones whose final exam took place off Kamino at the nearby smugglers haven of Rishi. While performing maneuvers in an abandoned mountainous settlement, three clones were lost to a sudden rockslide, but only two bodies were recoverable, the third having disappeared into the rapids below. Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi had been hoping a simple mission to investigate a smuggling ring would go smoothly, but it seems the force had a different plan.

Obi-Wan has a feeling that the whole mission is some kind of ploy by the Jedi Council to force him to take a holiday. It has Yoda's fingerprints all over it.

Rishi moon is desolate in the exact way he strangely enjoys. It's liveable but uninhabitable, with galactic standard atmosphere but no arable soil and no plant life, with only sandy canyons and dunes and dry mountains and rocky plateaus, rough oceans and wild rivers that went whichever they damn well pleased. The swell of the planet on the night sky overhead is magnificent and overpoweringly bright even in night time and there's something terribly beautiful about being on a planet where no one lives.

Obi-Wan has no doubt that it is actually being used by probably thousands of smugglers as convenient place to hide illicitly acquired goods, it's just the sort of place for that kind for thing… but really – the place is so close to one of his old poems given actual physical form that it has to be intentional.

He's not sure if he's mortified or gratified that someone still remembered the thing – or that the Council thought this would be the sort of thing to help him unwind after Anakin nearly got himself killed, again. They're right, in a way, but by force he's not going to admit it.

Tucking up his hood, Obi-Wan breathes in and out, tasting the un-tasted air of the desolate moon, and lets himself be, for a moment, completely alone in the universe.

And then he feels a stuttering song of a life form, not far from him, quivering and unsteady. Someone is on the planet with him – and they aren't doing too well.

Obi-Wan immediately heads for them, of course – he is there on a mission to supposedly investigate smugglers after all, and this person must be one. Who else would be in such a remote, desolate place? And in either case, they're in trouble and as the only living person in several light years, Obi-Wan is likely the only one who could help.

He expects to find a crashed ship, maybe, or one that had been attacked, something of the nature. He doesn't expect to find a single man splayed open a shoreline of a lifeless river, unconscious and half drowning inside his strange, vaguely mandalorian armour.

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan murmurs, and forgoes trying to get to the man and simply levitates him off the water, and to himself. The man hangs limb in his hold, raining water from under the white plates, and holding him up in the force Obi-Wan gently checks for his breathing, his pulse.

It's weak, stuttering, but as Obi-Wan enforces the man with Force, it grows stronger. It's obvious he's been knocked about, and he'd almost drowned – there's certainly water in the man's lungs – but he's breathing and he's going to live. Obi-Wan touches the helmet, considering it, but… who knows, he might be from the Watch. It sounds like the helmet is offering some oxygen to the man, as it is. Best leave it.

"Well then," Obi-Wan murmurs, manoeuvring the man around with force and then lets him drop into his own awaiting arms. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, shall we?"

The way to his ship is too long – and it's one-seater anyway – so Obi-Wan searches in the Force until he finds a sheltered place, warm and welcoming in the Force. Obi-Wan could swoon at the sight of the place, when he makes it there – it's a cave in front of a natural hot spring.

"The very universe is conspiring to please me today," Obi-Wan sighs. "Keep this up and I will start waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or perhaps fear my own upcoming doom!"

He lays his rescuee on the warm rocks, making the man as comfortable as he can without removing the armour, and sits down to wait – soaking his feet in the water and trying to restrain himself from stripping and plunging right in. The man he saved is likely not the most trustworthy sort – better not risk it… just yet anyway.

Hedonism, this whole mission is pure Obi-Wan specific hedonism. Stars, Obi-Wan almost fears for whatever unpleasantness the Council is pre-emptively trying to make amends for this time.

Obi-Wan is meditating and almost dozing off in a pleasant, warm haze, when the armoured fellow finally wakes up. He does it in a strange mixture of relief, trust and comfort – and then, clashing all of that, he spots Obi-Wan and aims his blaster at him. The cycling of emotions is so rapid and sharp, that Obi-Wan doesn't even have the chance to reach for his lightsaber.

"Hello there – please don't shoot," Obi-Wan says as pleasantly as he can. "Be a shame to stain this fine pool with blood. Especially since I have done you no harm."

The blaster doesn't waver. "Who are you?" the man demands.

Obi-Wan smiles – he'd given a good deal of thought for his cover story, and had decided to go with the desert hobo one. He doesn't have the ship to play the smuggler, and he isn't dressed for it either – and who else would have any reason to come to a place like this, anyway? The desert hobo is an act that feels truest to his actual personality, too – even if it's only a secret part of him that only tends to come out in secret and poetry.

But what can he say – Rishi moon is beautiful.

"My name is Ben – I found you by the shore over there," he points towards the river, "half drowned and knocked about, judging by the looks of you. I think you took a tumble into the rapids, there. I picked you up and brought you here so that you'd get to recover and hopefully not get a cold."

There's a moment of silence, and then the man says, bland, "Colds are caused by viral infectious diseases not present on Rishi moon. The moon is barren."

"… you are right about that, but you still would have gotten cold," Obi-Wan says, not sure if to be amused or amazed. "Frostbite is no fun either."

"The temperatures here don't get low enough."

"Well, you're a very reassuring sort of man, aren't you," Obi-Wan says, amused. "I suppose you're alright then. Do you mind not pointing that thing at me, though? It's the least comforting thing about you."

There's a moment of hesitation, and then the armoured man puts the gun away. "Ben," he says slowly. "Your name is Ben."

"Yes?" Obi-Wan agrees, a little guiltily. It wasn't exactly a lie – he was known as Ben on some planet. Well, one planet. And now one moon. "That's me – how about you?"

The man doesn't answer, sitting up slowly and shoving his blaster into the holster. Then, watching Obi-Wan carefully, he checks his gauntlet, tapping something into a keypad and then lowering his arm. "Why are you here, Ben?"

Obi-Wan hums and then smiles, looking away. Interesting, very interesting. "I love places like these," he says, motioning to the vista in front of them, the open canyons carved into the landscape by the wild rivers. "There's so little in the galaxy that's so untouched. This place is so little use to so few people, so it's been left be. The only thing that's made any difference here is the wind, the weather, and the pull of the planet, and nothing else. It's… glorious."

Even through the armour he can tell the man he'd fished from the river is giving him an incredulous look. "Glorious?" he repeats.

"Nature of wild things," Obi-Wan agrees and kicks his foot in the water, sending ripples racing over the surface. "Wild nature and desolation of the universe, utter loneliness. We two are likely the only living souls on this whole system, with nothing but the emptiness of the universe all around us. It's glorious."

The armoured man just stares at him for a long, long time. Obi-Wan smiles a little wider as the armoured man looks up to the sky, like he's searching for what Obi-Wan is seeing. He hopes the man does see it.

"Glorious," the armoured man repeats. "Hm."

Obi-Wan grins wider and looks up as well. This is going to be a great mission, he can already tell. Maybe it will even be worth whatever indignity the Council would throw at him next. Who knows. For now, Obi-Wan thinks he's going to enjoy the company in loneliness and see what came of it.

And then they have adventures in Rishi moon while Obi-Wan shamelessly waxes poetry about desolate places and canyons and stuff and eventually gets to take his dip in the hot spring and Cody gets smacked over the head with “oh no, he’s completely ridiculous, I must protect him with my life.”

Not exactly what you asked for, but for a moment I got to live in a world where Obi-Wan might actually enjoy living on Tatooine one day and that was nice. Maybe Cody will live there too, enduring Obi-Wan’s bad poetry about the desert into his old age. That’d be nice too.

#fanfiction #star wars #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Nothing To Hide

Pairing: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, some fluff/cuteness, Venable, indications of smut

Words: 1,023

Summary: Venable thinks she knows everything there is to know about Y/n and Michael’s relationship, however, Michael puts the controlling woman in her place with some reassurance and a little help.

Note: I thought it was cute. Didn’t know how to end it, can’t tell you if it’s good or not. Ignoring my lack of good words for my own work, I hope you like it!

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee

Masterlist | American Horror Story Masterlist | Cody Fern Masterlist

Venable’s cane clacked against the floor as she made her way to her office, which the new man had taken over. Wilhelmina and Miriam had been talking in their spare time about her their suspicions. The woman who had claimed authority over the entire outpost, making her own rules and consequences, had many opinions about Langdon, however, with his “work partner”, L/n, in the picture, there were many more she had to share.

“Are you sure?” Mead thought about Venable’s recent conspiracy and came to a conclusion made up of doubt. She had to admit, Venable did have a tendency to grow extreme time after time; and this was one of those times. “I mean, maybe they’re just coworkers-”

“No! Have you seen their attitudes, felt the feelings radiating off of their bodies, watched their eyes when they’re in each other’s presences? Do you know what I saw, and felt, clouding those two?”

Miriam looked around blankly, not sure where Wilhelmina was going with it this time. “Uhm...love?”

“Love? No- no man is capable of love. It’s lust!”

“Oh. Are you sure?” She sighed and nodded. They sat for a moment in the silence before they rose in unison. “How about we go figure that out?”

“Mr. Langdon. I would like to talk to you, if you could spare a moment of your time.” Venable inquired in a rather demanding tone. She didn’t wait for an answer, sliding open the doors and clicking her cane down loudly as she walked.

“Of course. What can I help you with?”

She rolled her eyes at his calm and seemingly unphased exterior. “I know what’s going on between you and Miss L/n.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael lifted his gaze from the paperwork on the desk to the woman standing by the fire, nothing but a curious furrow of his brows as a response to her contextless accusation, “I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re implying, Miss Venable.”

“Don’t act dumb, Langdon.” Venable laughed cruelly.

Michael took in her attitude and allegations, chuckling when he ‘added it up’. “By the way you’re glaring at me, I must assume you’re indicating some sort of inappropriate relationship between Miss L/n and I? Or, at least, inappropriate for coworkers?”

“An ill-suited relationship in general, Mr. Langdon. I will not tolerate such behavior in my outpost. As a worker for the corporative, I should expect you of all people to respect and follow the rules I have set.”

“Your outpost?” Michael grinned mockingly. “I don’t know what you think is going on between Miss L/n and I, but I can assure you, it is none of your concern. Perhaps next time, instead of going around spreading, or believing, rumors, you would like to find yourself some form of evidence to support your crude claims?”

“Mr. Langdon?” A new voice joined the conversation. It brought a genuine touch to Michael’s smile and a whole new change to his persona; no longer cautious and vile, but confident and relaxed. Though, Venable could not see the change. Not that Michael would let her anyways.

“Yes, Miss L/n?” He kept his eyes trained on Venable, watching her for reactions.

“Oh, my apologies.” Y/n shifted her attention to Venable as well. Wilhelmina felt mildly uncomfortable as the two burned imaginary holes into her skin with just their eyes. “I had no knowledge of this meeting. I’ll come back when you’re done, sir.”

“No, no, no, that won’t be necessary. It’s fine. Miss Venable was just leaving now. Weren’t you, Venable?”

Venable tensed, inhaling slowly before releasing the breath she’d forgotten she was holding. “Perhaps I could question her before I leave. If you truly have nothing to hide, you would accept my offer.”

Y/n turned to face Michael, raising her brows and awaiting his directions. He nodded after a quiet minute spent going over their options and beckoned Y/n over with a few waves of his hand. As she lifted herself onto the edge of the desk, Venable shot her a criticizing look.

“Are you and Langdon partaking in forbidden acts of intimacy?”

“Forbidden?” Y/n smiled at Michael over her shoulder, “Not at all.”

“Is there anything I should know?”

“No, nothing I can think of. We’ll be sure to let you know if there indeed is, but so far, there’s no reason for any panic in that lovely head of yours. Is that all?”

She was still suspicious, not pleased in the slightest with the answers she’d received. Although she wanted to snap, tell them to stop lying, sentence both workers to death, she nodded politely and walked out of the room, her cane clicking harshly with every step she took.

Once they were sure the wicked, not in a good way, woman had left all places within earshot, they broke into stifled laughter. Y/n swung around, her legs on either side of Michael.

“Finally. I thought that infuriating woman would never leave. Don’t even get me started on that stupid cane of hers.”

His hands lifted to her face, a loving smile placed on both Langdon’s lips. “You and I both, Mrs. Langdon.”

Her smile fell upon the mention of her last name, as it was seldom she’d heard it. “How long do we have to keep up this horrible act? I hate having to pretend we aren’t involved. If I went by the name I married into, people would stop giving you those thirsting looks.”

“Yes, but then the plan could fail. Or worse; you’d be a target of some form of danger.” Michael reminded her, worry in his voice as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Understand? I can’t lose you too-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Believe me, I can’t possibly fathom what would happen if I lost you either. I- I just can’t wait until all of this is over.”

“Not a worry, my beautiful queen, it’ll be over soon. For now, we must learn to put up with that ‘infuriating woman’ and her ‘stupid cane.’ She won’t matter anyways.” The antichrist gazed into his wife’s e/c orbs with nothing but pure admiration and fondness. “The world’s ours.”

#michael langdon #cody fern #michael langdon x reader #cody fern x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs x reader #ahs reader insert #american horror story x reader #american horror story reader insert #reader insert #all readers #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #outpost!michael #outpost!michael langdon #zodiyack

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

With anyone from the disaster trio or duo! (sorry I realized I didn’t say characters in the last ask!)

@badthingshappenbingo

Tripwire

(TW for panic attacks and minor and unintentional emotional abuse. This is emotional crisis in the middle of a war. Nobody in this story is at their best.)

••

Ahsoka sometimes thought that her Master never had rough days.

Oh, he had days when his temper was high - and those days were more frequent as the war went on and on and on - and days when he was more tired, more sad.

But he never seemed to have days where he just wanted to sit in a small, dark space like the far corner of his room or the dusty storage cabinet near the engines and hold himself together with his own two hands and just cry himself to exhaustion.

She tried to ask him, once, on a day when he seemed brighter and calmer.

“Master?” she began.

Then she stopped. Tilted her head to one side, listening with her montrals to the happy rhythm of his heart.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Snips?”

He was glowing with happiness, so excited just from his phone call home. She wasn’t stupid. Like the rest of the 501st - and 212th - and hells, maybe even the entire Order - she knew that her Master and Senator Amidala were... a thing.

Whatever that was, exactly.

Maybe, she contemplated, not noticing that she had begun to hunch in on herself a little, shoulders drawing in, maybe that’s what Anakin had that was different. Rex had Cody and the rest of his brothers, Anakin had Senator Amidala.

Ahsoka was just by herself.

“Hey,” Anakin said, sounding a little concerned. “Ahsoka? What’s up?”

The togruta shrugged, casually sliding back into her normal relaxed and confident self, the bravado she’d created years ago when she first began to suspect that nobody would choose her as a Padawan, and then built up again when she was assigned and dropped into the middle of open warfare.

And now again, struggling always with that urge to flee somewhere warm and small and safe.

“Nothing, Master. Sheesh. I was just wondering about the next class rotation. I really don’t want to retake Galactic History level 240 just yet...”

They moved on to other subjects.

••

She tried again, a few months later, shaken after a crushing campaign that stripped the 501st of some of their best and very, very many of their newest. The shiniest shinies.

Ahsoka searched the encampment they had pitched on the darkened moor, but she could sense Anakin from a mile off.

It was just harder for her, the closer she got to that epicenter of muted rage she could sense coming off him like heatwaves off sand.

But... they could help each other.

He didn’t have Padmé Amidala here today.

Today, right now, they had each other.

Ahsoka crept up to the dimming fire, set several meters away from the outer circle of tents, and saw the dark silhouette of Anakin Skywalker sitting on a low outcropping of rock, gazing into the flames. The red glow outlined him in faintest fire, sharpening the edges that darkness had softened into shadow.

“...Master?”

He didn’t seem to hear.

“Master... Anakin?” Ahsoka stepped a little nearer.

His head turned very slightly.

She froze, suddenly a little frightened, suddenly wishing she’d found her own warm safe place to be — because the ember-lit outline of Anakin’s face were neither safe nor warm.

He looked enraged.

“Anakin?” she whispered.

“Now isn’t the best time, Ahsoka,” he said slowly. Holding back. For her.

Giving her a chance to run.

From him.

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not Anakin. “But, Anakin... I think...” she took a deep breath and closed the distance between them, crouching down to place one of her hands gently on his arm. He trembled. “I think we should be together right now. Help each other.”

He shook.

There was a long pause.

Then: “Go away, Ahsoka.”

Her heart fell like a stone.

What was she supposed to do? Fleeing to a dark corner felt so wrong, so un-Jedi like, so weak — and now, to abandon her Master when he was so hurt? It felt like a double sin. She couldn’t do it. It would be wrong (but it was so tempting—)

“Master...”

“Go, Padawan! Now!” He turned to face her fully, his teeth bared in a predatory sneer that made her own sharpened fangs and hunters blood quail. A wall of blunt rage slammed into her like a blast of hot wind and Ahsoka fell back, catching herself on her palms in the cold grass.

A flash of something like guilt crossed his face, not much older than her own, but then hardened again.

“Jedi do not feel these things, Ahsoka,” he lectured. “Much less act on them. Go eat your meal and then get some sleep. Wallowing won’t help.”

Do as I say and not as I do?

Ahsoka sprang to her feet and gave in to the wild pounding of her heart and the icy fear clawing at her lungs — and she fled.

••

Ahsoka felt like she was falling.

She could feel her feet thudding against the dewy ground, could feel her montrals trembling as they picked up noises all around her, but all she could see was darkness and it felt like she was running in midair, held up by nothing.

Shadows rushed past her and her breaths came rapid and out of control.

She was dying.

She had to be.

This felt awful, terrible, there was no control —

She was just going to lose her breath and lose her senses until she died here - wherever here was -

Was she crying?

Maybe.

She couldn’t tell. Couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find her way in the dark.

Ahsoka crashed.

Blindly she crawled her way into what she could sense was some sort of corner.

It was warm here.

Dark.

Safe.

The feeling of walls and a floor and some sort of low ceiling pressing in all around her small form made her feel better, not worse. She could feel where she began and the shadows ended.

Slowly... slowly... slowly, Ahsoka Tano felt her soul begin to settle back in her flesh.

She could understand her surroundings better now.

She had shoved herself under cot in somebody’s tent. It really was warm here. Soft. It smelled familiar, the smell of the armor-polish-stale-soap-homemade-brew-standard-woolen-blankets and that something other that was just their men. Their boys.

Ahsoka could feel now how tightly she was curled up, how hard she was gripping her own limbs, still shaking.

Her throat felt raw.

Had she screamed? Cried? Or just gasped too much for air that hadn’t been coming?

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know a lot right now.

Does this make me a bad Jedi?

Or just a bad solider?

Which one am I, anyway?

“Padawan?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t —

“Ahsoka?”

She took a shuddering gasp, then another.

She just wanted some answers.

For once, some answers.

No “do or do not,” no cultural languages she couldn’t understand, no envy of what Anakin had in his Senator, the forbidden things she didn’t understand and didn’t know she really even wanted.

She just wanted to know if she was wrong for this.

She had to be.

No real Jedi cried in a corner because someone reminded them they needed to be strong.

“Ahsoka.”

Finally she looked up.

“Master?”

It was Anakin she longed to see - the Master who hadn’t wanted her but had taken her anyways, the friend she’d always needed, the teacher she could never have dreamed of.

But it wasn’t Anakin.

It was Obi-Wan.

He looked down at her, and his eyes were so compassionate that she felt her own begin to well with tears again and her throat close up painfully.

Angrily, she swiped away a tear and hid her face in her arms.

There were soft sounds that told her that Obi-Wan was kneeling in front of her now.

He didn’t do anything.

Didn’t encroach, didn’t speak.

He just breathed.

And breathed.

Steadily in and out, and unconsciously Ahsoka began to mirror him, taking calm and even breaths.

Eventually it was just the two of them breathing together, the Master kneeling, the Padawan still hiding from the world.

“...Master Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka asked in a small voice. She lifted her head, and was struck again by how sad and tender her grandmaster’s blue eyes were. He looked so soft and comfortable, contrasted in her head with the memory of Anakin and his fiery outline and clenched jaw.

“Anakin...” she struggled to say. “I thought he... I hoped... why...” her voice broke again.

Unable to help it, Ahsoka pitched forward, sobbing again. She had already cried so much that her throat burned in protest, but cry she did, and this time she found herself wrapped in Obi-Wan’s arms.

She had never pictured this. He had always seemed so... aloof. What Jedi were meant to be. What she was not. What Anakin was not.

“I know,” he said slowly, his voice rumbling against her striped montrals. “Our teachers are not always what we want or need them to be. But we love them anyway, Ahsoka. Don’t we.”

She nodded as she cried, letting him hold her.

“I — thought — I — how am — does — d-does this — am I a — am...” it was utter nonsense coming out, but somehow he seemed to understand.

“You,” he said, “are a student. A very young student, despite how tall you may feel some days. War is hard on everyone, Ahsoka. You deserve better. It’s all right to have times like these.”

“You... you don’t,” she sobbed.

“Oh,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “Oh. Yes I do. Of course I do. I work my way through with meditation and tea. Anakin needs to be alone, and then he needs to vent. Normally he vents to me, or to — others. But it’s not your job to handle his outbursts. When you’re hurting, you go where you need to go.”

“Even if it’s a dark corner?” Ahsoka mumbled into his tunics.

She felt him chuckle slightly. “Even then. Especially then. We’re all dealing, Padawan. I’m sorry we didn’t talk to you about this, before this happened.”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka muttered.

What she meant was: isn’t it my Master’s job to guide me? Isn’t it Anakin’s job? Am I too weak for him?

“We’ll do better,” Obi-Wan promised.

She had a feeling he meant: I’ll try to make Anakin do better. And when he doesn’t, I will.

And there was an overwhelming flood of emotions with that.

Thank the Force for Obi-Wan. But why not Anakin? Was this forever? Was this why her Master and Master Kenobi didn’t always get along? Because they were emotionally different? Would they shun her eventually too, if she turned out different from them both?

...But for the moment, Ahsoka took comfort.

Anakin would be back to normal in the morning.

And Obi-Wan’s arms were warm, and dark, and safe.

fin

#star wars fic #star wars #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #canon compliant #listen I don’t think this makes Obi-Wan a saint and Anakin an ass #they just have different ways of coping #and Anakin’s makes him less helpful to others while Obi-Wan’s does the opposite #ahsoka and obi wan #master and padawan #angst #bad things happen bingo

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pro-fangirls-unsocial-life · 3 years

Text

Cinnamon Roll Sweetness

A/N: Happy Valentines day everyone! Have some soft modern CodyWan. I cannot for the life of me find the art that inspired this but if you see this and you made that cute bakery art, thank you so much for the inspiration! Message me so that I can link back to it and give you credit!

Length: ~1500 words

Warnings: None :) just pure fluff

“Better hurry Cody. You wouldn’t want to miss your favorite customer, now would you?”

“Shut-up Rex! I’m working as fast as I can!” Cody throws a look over his shoulder at his smirking younger brother, kneading the dough on the counter in front of him intensely.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and briefly looks at Wolffe who now stands beside him.

“You go wash up; I’ll finish this for you.”

Cody immediately starts walking toward the sink, untying his apron from behind his back. “Thanks, Wolffe. You’re a lifesaver.” He pulls the apron up over his head and hangs it up, turning on the water so that he can wash the flower off of his hands.

“You finally gonna ask him out today?” Wolffe says, rolling up his sleeves.

Cody stills for a moment, shock briefly coming over his face before he can catch it.

He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. “What do you mean?”

He hears Rex huff. “He means that you used to hate working the front until you met that man. And that the two of you make heart eyes at each other from the moment he walks in the door until he leaves.”

“Hey! I do not—”

“Don’t deny it Cody. We can all see it,” Wolffe says, not looking away from the dough he is kneading.

Cody whips around, yanking the towel off of its hook to dry his hands. “Whose side are you on?”

Wolffe stops kneading and turns toward his older brother. “Yours. But Cody, you must see that you are head over heels for this guy and that he seems to have quite a fondness for you too.”

“I,” Cody sputters.

“Think about it vod,” Rex says as he gathers up the man’s usual order. “You only work the front for him. Every Friday he comes in to pick up the exact same order at exactly the same time. He is precise, getting here at exactly ten every time. But haven’t you noticed?”

Cody stares at Rex, annoyance on his face as he urges him to continue.

Rex rolls his eyes. “You really are hopeless.”

Cody tries to smack Rex’s head, but Rex steps out of his reach, grabbing the last of the order. “Get to the point,” Cody spits out.

“The point is that he has been leaving later and later every single week.”

Cody’s mouth drops open slightly, his hand coming up to the back of his neck. “Really?”

“Really,” Wolffe chimes in as he shapes the dough he had been working on.

Cody smiles, heat creeping up his cheeks as he looks down at the floor.

“You might want to hurry up and make your move though lover-boy,” Rex teases as he walks over to Cody. He pushes the man’s order into Cody’s chest, prompting a small glare from his older brother. “Or someone else will beat you to it.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving Cody with a stunned look on his face.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts and looks up at the clock on the wall. “Four minutes until he gets here,” he mumbles, pushing through the doors that lead to the rest of the bakery.

He sets the order down on the counter, Rex’s words echoing in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he looks over at Bly working the register. “Hey Bly?”

“Yeah?” he says without looking up.

Cody looks up at the clock again. Two minutes. “Can I borrow a pen?”

Bly gives him a confused look, grabbing a pen from the cup by the register. “Sure.”

Cody takes it, rushing back over to the order and opens the lid to the box of cinnamon rolls, scribbling something on the inside. Then, carefully shutting the lid, he puts the loaf of bread that always accompanies the order on top.

He takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face before looking back up at the clock.

One minute.

Cody tried to find something to do, something that would calm his nerves while still looking casual. But no matter what he turned to, everything felt like it would not be good enough.

Then, he heard the front bell ring. He turned toward the sound, all of his nervousness melting away at the sight of the auburn hair that was glowing in the mid-morning sunlight.

“Ah, Cody!” the man said as he walked up to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Mister Kenobi,” he smiled. “I’ve been busy,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve been hired to make the bread and cakes for the senate charity event on Sunday, so I got here about two hours before I normally do to prep for all of the baking we have to get done over the next two days.”

Kenobi nods his head, his hand coming up to stroke his beard. “Yes, I can see how that would make you very busy indeed.” He shakes his head, giving Cody a playful smile. “Cody, how many times must I insist that you just call me Obi-Wan?”

Cody smiles, lifting the order in his hands and holding it out to Obi-Wan as he gives him an affectionate gaze. “Until you see me when I’m not covered in flour.” His smile widens as he feels the heat creeping up his face once again.

Obi-Wan reaches out and grabs the box of cinnamon rolls, his face turning red. “I umm—” he clears his throat. “I suppose I would have to see you outside of work then.”

Their hands lightly brush as Cody gently sets the box in Obi-Wan’s hands. “Indeed.”

They both stand there, gazing at each other in fond silence until a buzzer goes off in the kitchen. Cody pulls back, taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan to glance at the clock. He gives an apologetic smile.

“I hate to cut this short, but I do have to get back to work if we are going to fill all of those orders in time.”

Obi-Wan steps back, returning Cody’s smile. “Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “It is always a pleasure Cody.”

Cody nods. “Likewise.”

“Until next time then,” Obi-Wan says with a smile.

Cody leans on the counter. “We’ll have your cinnamon rolls hot and fresh for you as always.”

With that, Obi-Wan gives a final smile and turns toward the door.

“I do hope to see you again soon—” Cody calls from behind him as he reaches the door. He turns and looks at Cody, seeing his face smiling mischievously back at him. “—Mister Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan blushes, his smile widening before he nods and exits the sweet-smelling bakery.

Cody sighs, waiting a moment before pushing himself off of the counter.

He turns, heading back toward the kitchen when he sees Bly smirking at him, his head in his hand as he leans on the counter.

“You two are cute.”

“Shut-up Bly,” Cody says while rolling his eyes. He pushes the door to the kitchen, grabbing his apron off of its hook and tying it around his back, smiling to himself.

*******************************************************************************************

“Ah, Professor Kenobi! You’re here early.”

“Yes, Professor Plo. I’m afraid one of my stops was unfortunately cut a bit short this morning.”

They begin walking toward the chairs that had been set out for their weekly meeting. “Oh?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. Just my usual conversation with Cody at the bakery was cut short due to a busy schedule this week.”

Plo nods. “I see.”

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin walks up to the pair, a smile on his face. “Would you like me to take those over to the food table for you?”

Obi-Wan smiles and rolls his eyes. “Yes, Anakin. You may have yours now.”

“Yes!” Anakin hurriedly takes the box and rushes over to grab a paper plate.

Plo motions over to one of the chairs in the room. “I’m afraid Professor Windu will be late this morning,” he says as they continue over to the circle of chairs. “He’s still in a meeting with the dean about—”

“Uhh, Professor?” Anakin calls from the table. “Who’s Cody?”

Obi-Wan whips around. “What?”

“Cody? It looks like he left you a note.”

Obi-Wan slowly walks over to the table and angles the lid of the cinnamon roll box so that he can read what is written inside. His face turns red as his eyes drift over the frosting coated words.

“Obi-Wan,

555-212-2224. Call me?

-Cody”

Obi-Wan smiles, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Are you gonna call him Professor? Are you guys dating? Is he your boyfriend?” Anakin tugs on Obi-Wan’s arm as a sea of questions fall from his lips.

“Alright young one,” Plo cuts in as he gently peels Anakin off of Obi-Wan’s arm. “We have work to do.”

“But Professor—”

“Do as he says Anakin. I’ll be over in a moment.”

Anakin grumbles as he walks away with Plo toward the circle of chairs.

Obi-Wan reaches up and smiles into the palm of his hand before reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He takes a picture of the note and smiles.

Cody would probably be busy until the bakery closes at five.

He lets out a fond sigh, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He smiled, thinking about how much sweeter dialing those numbers would be that the frosting that they had been covered in. He really could not wait for the end of the day.

#codywan #look at these two cuties #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #modern au #cinnamon roll sweetness #my writing

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callmecallmecrazy · 4 years

Text

Preppy 1

*****

Warning! This is not my usual fare. Back in college I got very into preppy clothing and wrote a few short stories that I never shared anywhere. Figure I might as well post them for posterity. Enjoy this 2007/8 flashback!

*****

Two athletic men hauled Shawn into a dark room with a gurney table, and strapped his arms and legs down.

"What the fuck?" Shawn shouted, his shaggy hair covering his eyes. His muscular body struggled uselessly against the leather restraints holding down his body. "Who the hell are you fuckers?"

This caused the two men to stop suddenly.

"My goodness, how rude of me," one spoke. He was a tall man. He was wearing Sahara Sperry topsiders, pleated khakis, and a hunter green sweater. Peaking out from under the sweater was a blue and yellow striped oxford shirt. The collar was buttoned tightly around his neck, which was adorned with a simple yellow tie. His hair was cut in a short buzzcut.

He offered his hand out in the gesture of greeting and smiled at the man he had strapped down. "My name is Cody Bellford, please call me Skip. And this," he said as he pulled the other man towards him in a sort of man hug, "is Ace." The shorter man smiled. He too was dressed in pleated khakis, but was wearing a light blue polo with a popped collar. His hair was longer than Skip's, cut into a crisp flattop. Both men had athletic, strong bodies that were highlighted by their attire, but still looking very dressy.

"What the hell is going on?" Shawn screamed.

"Ugh, so barbaric," Ace sighed.

"Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up."

"Cleaned up?" Shawn asked.

"Yes," Skip began to explain. "Cleaned up. Groomed. Presentable. Your appearance and mouth reflect poorly on yourself and the school. Wouldn't you be happier if you were groomed and proper?"

"Fuck you!" Shawn retorted. The two preppy men just smiled to each other and began their work.

Ace walked up to Shawn's chest and proceeded to rip the oversized t-shirt off his chest, exposing Shawn's voluptuous pecs covered in fur. At the same time, Skip had proceeded to cut the sweat pants off of Shawn's legs. In few more simple motions, Shawn was lying nearly naked on the table, only his privates covered by a pair of striped boxers. His strong legs were lurching against the confines of the straps, and the veins in his arms and neck were bulging from his constant resistance. Shawn finally glanced upwards to realize that a full size mirror hung over him.

"You have a good physique, Shawn. You should take better care of yourself," Skip said.

"What?"

"This hair is disgusting. You would look so much better if you were more streamlined."

"Shit, shaving body hair is for fags!" Shawn was still struggling against the restraints but it was useless. He was exhausted, and the reflections of the two groomed, calm men standing over him confused him. Here he was, stressing and fighting, and they were calm and collected. In charge.

"Lots of men shave their body hair," Ace explained. "It works for some, but you would look better trimmed." Skip handed Ace an electric trimmer, which he turned on and waved delicately in front of Shawn's face. Shawn looked in terror as Ace took the blade over his chest and began to strike down the forest of hair growing across. He could only look forward and watch as his reflection was slowly denuded across the chest and abs. Skip made eye contact in the mirror and smiled brightly at the terrified man.

Next, Ace continued his swarthy path on the legs, reducing the long hairs to fine fibers, highlighting the deep cuts along his quads and calves. Beyond his range of vision, Skip had been stirring a pot of hot wax, and now sat down next to Shawn. He took one of Shawn's hands and applied the wax on the hair covering his fingers. With a quick rip, and a tired yelp from Shawn, one finger was clean of unsightly hair. Skip continued the process across all five digits and the back of the hand, then proceeded to do the other hand. Ace had moved on to the arm that Skip had finished and removed all the hair from Shawn's wrist to his shoulder. Skip went down to Shawn's feet and quickly ripped the hair off of his feet and toes.

"Goodness, Shawn," Ace smiled at Shawn in the mirror. "You look so much better now."

"Yes, I think so too. You should keep this look." Shawn stared at the two smiling men in the mirror, finding himself drawn into their bright smiles and amber eyes. He wanted to look away, but his face was held in place. He tried to close his eyes, but he was constantly drawn back into the soothing haze of their white teeth and tan skin. His skin did look good. His skin had a natural tan and without the hair it seemed that his muscles were bigger, more cut, more defined. Maybe it wasn't, no, he hated it. Shaving body hair was stupid. But kind of sexy...

"Now, about these," Skip said as he cut the boxer shorts from Shawn's body. Shawn was shocked into silence as Ace roughly gripped his package.

"Don't worry," Ace said, again smiling. "I'm not a pervert. I just want you to be the best you can be." And with those words, he once again turned on the electric trimmer and carefully reduced his pubic hair to a short stubble. A few more quick strokes near the inner thigh, and both preppy boys stepped back and addressed Shawn in the mirror.

"You look swell, Shawn," Ace said. "This clean look really suits you."

"Yes, I agree," Skip said. "I think everything we're doing you should maintain. Weekly should be enough for you to look presentable everywhere. It's important to be groomed and presentable at all times. You don't want to meet the wrong person looking poorly."

"Wrong... person?" Shawn stammered, he was nearly overwhelmed by the whole situation and found himself increasingly groggy and incoherent.

"Yes, there are the right people and the wrong people," Ace explained. "If you meet a bank president, you don't want to look like a grunge band member. You want to look like you know a Brooks Brothers inside and out. That's how you get ahead."

"Oh, but... I ... umm.... shit," Shawn said, exerting a tiny bit of resistance in an attempt to move his head to the side.

"And don't swear, Shawn," Skip said. "You sound unprofessional and uneducated. Looking your best means acting your best."

"Umm, okay."

"Don't stutter or stammer. Speak clearly and decisively. A man."

"Okay." Ace and Skip smiled to each other, and for just a single moment, Shawn smiled himself.

"You are coming along very well, Shawn. Just a tad more and I think you'll be a new man."

"Yes, I agree. Shawn just needs a few touch-ups and he will be an ideal gentleman." Skip stepped out of view for just a second and then reappeared. Into the mirror, he held up a pair of classic y-front briefs. He pulled on them slightly to emphasize the item.

"These, are the ideal underwear for a conservative, preppy man. That's what we want you to become. That's what you want to be Shawn. All of this is just so you can be a gentleman." Shawn's eyes bulged as he saw the old-fashioned underwear. Ace undid the straps on his legs, but Shawn found himself too exhausted to move. The boys gently lifted up his legs and slip down the tight, white briefs. They traced up his thighs and gently began to engulf his crotch and butt. With a sharp elastic snap, he felt the band settle against his waist. He had resisted looking, but curiously he peered at his image. He looked amazing. The briefs looked so presentable and manly. He felt powerful and in control. Once again, Shawn found himself smiling pleasantly.

"Feeling a tad preppy?" Ace teased. "Don't worry, only one thing left."

"Your hair," Skip said. "It's so rough and wild. Not the image one wants to send." Shawn had nothing left inside himself to resist. He merely nodded as well as the straps would let him. The table holding up his head receded, and Shawn saw Ace holding his neck up while Skip brought over a pair of clippers. They sprang to life with a low growl. Skip wasted no time in reducing the sides of his head to nothing. The shaggy haircut was being quickly reduced. He ran the clippers over the sides of his head, leaving a white wall of flesh behind in its wake. That finished, he proceeded to comb the hair back and began hacking it off. Large chunks of brown hair fell to the floor as Shawn was shorn. Finally, with about an inch left, Skip wet the hair and brushed it all up. Using a small trimmer, he proceeded to flatten out his hair, until the top was a level plain identical to Ace's square hair.

"You need something drastically different," Ace explained. "Such a dramatic change proves how intent you are on improving yourself." Skip just nodded as he continued to even out the top of the hair. Shawn was nearing his breaking point, as he watched his long, mangled hair replaced with a corporate hairstyle of precision and execution. Skip applied some strange wax to the hair forcing it to stand up straight.

"After some practice," Skip began, "your hair will hold itself up. But the wax is still good measure." Shawn found himself nodding as the knowledge of how to maintain his new hairstyle sunk into his freshly exposed head. Skip pulled the head piece out from the table, and Ace let Shawn's head rest on the table. The two prepsters stood back and admired their work.

"You look like a decent guy now. No more grunge or nasty college boy."

"No, you look like the prefect preppy."

"You are going places. Meeting the right people."

"I'm sure you'll get a great job and make lots of money."

"You've already met us. And there is a bunch of men back at the house excited to meet you."

"Of course, you should join the fraternity. Men like us need to stick together."

"Don't you like this Shawn. Being preppy. You look so much better."

"You're a born-again preppy. We prefer you like this. And all the brothers want you like this. You want to be like this, don't you?"

Staring at himself in the overhead mirror, Shawn was shocked at how much he liked his reflection. Formerly shaggy hair now stood straight up over his head, looking stiff as a board. Whitewalls on the sides, his ears seemed to stick out a little - something else he found surprisingly appealing. His tan, muscular body was shown to all its glory, his former resistance giving his body a sheen from sweat and muscle tension. Without his body hair, he looked bigger, stronger, and cleaner. He had always thought that shaving body hair was nelly and silly, but he looked much better now. And then the briefs. Tight, white briefs with a full cut covered his nether regions. He had always worn boxers. But there was something alluring about the underwear, with its clean-cut lines. Almost unconsciously, Shawn found his face slowly being filled with a charming, pleasant smile. His dazzling white teeth began to cover more of his face as the empty grin consumed him. Brown eyes lit up with a sort of cordial ambiance.

He liked it. He really did. Shawn was suddenly overwhelmed with a dire urgency. Something he had never felt before welling up inside of him. He wanted to be like the preppy boys. To be like this. Attractive and fit and well liked and happy. To be successful and entitled and self-assured. And surrounded by men his equal. Men as fit and clean and productive. To be engulfed in their manly etiquette and mannerisms. Better yet, be a part of group of such men. To be part of a fraternity.

All at once, Shawn's sudden pleasant nature began to override the rest of his personality. So what if he wanted to dress, act, be one of the preppy boys? If anything, being a preppy boy would be good for him. He would get in with the right people, wear the right clothes, be the right kind of man. The kind of man Shawn would never have been on his own. And he'd be happy. It sounded pretty great to Shawn, who continued to sink into a cheerful bliss.

At this point, Skip and Ace proceeded to undo the straps holding Shawn down. He allowed the two well-dressed boys to help him off the table and he thanked them politely. Manners were always important after all, but too much thanks sounded sarcastic or desperate - neither of which were admirable qualities in a man. Ace gave Shawn a gentle pat on the back and a bright smile.

"Feeling better?"

"Yessir, thank you both very much," Shawn replied.

"Of course," Skip replied eloquently. "Here, you might want to get dressed."

The boys handed Shawn a pair of khaki Dockers’. He slipped the pants up his muscular legs and pulled them high over his briefs. The khakis sat a little higher than his normal baggy pants had, and Shawn liked it. It was a much classier fit. As he zipped up the fly and buttoned the top, he noticed the pants were pleated. Actually, it was a double pleat, he was pleased to note. For some reason, he had always hated pleated pants. He didn't know why. Clearly, they were a much smarter look on a man. More formal. Next, the two fraternity boys gave Shawn a light blue oxford shirt, complete with a little polo player on the left breast. They helped him tuck the shirt gently into his pants as he began to button the shirt up. He stopped before the very top, but Ace flipped up Shawn's collar and proceeded to button it to the very top. His neck was a little too thick for the buttoned collar, but he realized it would force him to carry his chin high, with pride and confidence. Yes, a high collar was definitely better for his posture.

"A proper man doesn't wear a button-down shirt without a tie of some sort," Skip said coyly as he approached Shawn, a line of fabric resting in his hands. Shawn couldn't see what was happening as Skip proceeded to tie a tie on his neck. At the same time, he felt Ace fumbling with the cuffs of his shirt.

Skip stepped back and admired his handiwork and once again presented that gorgeous white smile to Shawn, who was pleased to return the cordial charm of the other man. Ace was working away at his hips, looping a brown leather belt through the hoops of his Dockers. Skip held up a pair of blue dress socks with a purple and yellow argyle pattern on them. Shawn smiled and lifted up one leg, and then the other, feeling the stretch of the fabric engulf his feet. When he set each foot down, a pair of penny loafers had been set in the way, forcing his foot to slide elegantly into the leather classics.

"Just a tad preppier," Ace said as he pulled up the final item. A sweater vest, with a black, grey, and white argyle pattern on it. Shawn could see thin yellow and blue lines running between the diamonds. He lost his vision as the sweater was pulled over his hair and rested on his broad shoulders. Rough hands began adjusting the sweater across his body. It was a bit of tight fit given the size of his pecs and shoulders. The belt was adjusted, the tie straighten, the hair fluffed. Meanwhile, Skip had pulled over a full-size mirror. When Ace stepped away from Shawn, taking his place next to Skip, Shawn could finally see his new visage.

He was a preppy boy. Pleated khakis over an oxford shirt and sweater vest. It hadn't been a traditional tie that was put around his neck, but rather a purple and yellow bowtie. Classic cufflinks had been used on the cuffs of his shirt. Combined with the brown loafers and belt, he was the spitting image of a preppy boy.

Spitting image? Shawn thought to himself. How inappropriate. More like the classic construct of a prepster.

"I think Tad is preppy now," Ace said as he looked over the new prep's outfit.

"Think you are a Tad now?" Skip said as he slipped his hand on the recently madeover man's shoulder.

"Skip, Ace, thank you both very much. I would be pleased if you called me Tad. Shawn is so uncouth."

"We understand, Tad," Ace said. "Neither of our names befit our preppiness. Hence, we have preppy nicknames."

"Well, Tad, I think that it's time you went upstairs and met the rest of the men. You are in the fraternity now, correct?"

"I would be honored to be a brother. Rush begins today?"

"Oh, you're not going to need to rush. In fact, we would like you to greet the rushees."

"Absolutely!" Tad exclaimed. "I am honored to represent our brothers and our fraternity."

"Great, let's get you settled in." The three brothers walk upstairs into the house, to introduce Tad to his new life.

Later that day, as the rushees came into the house, the brother meeted and greeted all the potential men. Among them, was a preppy man with a flattop and a purple and yellow bowtie. He was wearing pleated khakis and a sweater vest. And his nametag had 'TAD' written in bold letters. It crossed his chest in the same place the little polo player did. Aside from the nametag, he was nearly indistinguishable form the other brothers. And in the next week, a few more good men would find themselves proud brothers of the fraternity and brothers in preppiness.

#preppification #callmecrazy #clothing #nosex #mental change

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