#as obi's medic because i'm soft

[yandere-wishes]

˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

[bellarkeselection]

Our Little Kenobi

Request from @starvingbrokestudent Can you do a super sweet pregnancy fic with Obi Wan? Like the reader finds out she’s pregnant after fertility issues and Obi Wan is just so excited?! And how they try to keep it a secret from the council and eventually she has a baby boy?

This will be a mini series like you asked 😁

Rushing to the bathroom I didn't even get the chance to remove my lightsaber and my robe from my body because the sickness was coming on so quickly. Holding onto the toilet I puked what I had ate in my stomach feeling out of breath afterwards. This wasn’t the first time this had happened and it was the third time I had gotten sick. Wiping my hand across my mouth I gagged on the taste leaving the bathroom once I had finished. Finding my communicator out of my robe pocket I thought of the first person I could call who wouldn’t ask too many questions. “Padme, can you come to my room please?”

“Of course. Do you need anything specific?” She asked me appearing as a blue hologram.

Running my fingers through my hair with my freehand I whispered under my breath almost like somebody else was listening on the other side of the door. “Could you uh…could you bring me a pregnancy test. I can’t have the medical droids look I into this. They can’t keep a secret if there is something going on.”

“Sure, I’ll be right over.” She hung up the call making me more nervous just waiting for her to come over.

Pacing back and forth across the floor frantically trying to calm my nerves but it wasn’t working. This couldn't be happening to me. I was a Jedi knight and a leader of one of the clone armies. There was a war going on all on top of it. I heard three knocks on the door before I opened the door quickly. “Come in, Padme.”

“Here it is. Why exactly did you need one?” She asked and I knew that she would after she told me about her and Anakin sneaking around.

Taking it from her hands I went into the bathroom quickly doing the test since the waiting was killing me. Sitting on the toilet I just stared at the test in my hands thinking that my life was now screwed. “Padme, I'm going to be forced out of the order.” I croaked through tears feeling her presence in the doorway of the bathroom just watching me.

“I thought Jedi were encouraged to love. That's what Anakin told me.” She responded.

Lifting my head up I felt tears building up. “But you're sneaking around aren't you. It's exactly what me and Obi-Wan are doing…stars he's going to be upset over this.”

“Maybe he will want the baby.’ She tried being hopeful. “Wait a second I should be asking do you want it first?”

Dropping my gaze to the ground floor silence filled the entire room at that point. I didn't know how to answer her question. Being a member of the Jedi order meant that things like love, marriage, and children were out the window. Gripping my hair in my fingers I screamed dropping the pregnancy test on the floor at my feet. “I don't think I can do this, Padme. I can't…I'm not prepared to be a mother. I barely even remember my own parents after the council found me. And then there's Obi Wan…he…I have no clue what he will feel.”

“Have you ever talked about the possibility of having kids with him if you weren’t Jedi knights?” Padme came into the bathroom and sat down beside me on the floor.

Burying my face into my knees I croaked. “We took an oath, Padme. No marriage, no children, no possibilities of going to the Dark Side.”

“I’m sorry Y/n. But I am here for you and whatever you decide to do.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and we both just sat in silence with me thinking back to that night between Obi wan and I.

Opening the door, he walked towards the bed and dropped me down to the bed. My back hit the soft silk sheets before I rose up from the bed staring at him softly and brought a hand to his cheek stroking it softly. He leaned into my touch and brought my fingers to his lips, kissing them softly for a moment before releasing them. Standing tall, he lifted his shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. My heart began to beat for a second as I stared at him, my eyes directed down to his muscular chest, and blushed at the sight.

I averted my eyes with my hands covering them quickly and tried to contain my blush, he looked up at me and smirked at my reaction. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Y/n. You can look if you want to.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do…have you ever done this before.” I pointed out to him where I peeked through my fingers for a split second.

My hands started to trace his form, I began to run his fingers up and down his muscular chest softly while I began to feel his hand start to crawl underneath my shirt. He yanked my shirt off my head, throwing it to the ground only once breaking the kiss until I was not able to not joke with him at least once. “Woah….you look just wow.”

He glanced down at my clothed beasts staring at them deeply before reaching behind my back and began to unclip the straps off and tear it off me in a split second. I gasped at him instantly reaching a hand to cover my breast, he let out a growl at them pushing my hands away. “ Don’t hide from me, my darling. You are perfect.”

He hovered over me and brought his lips down upon mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and embraced more into the kiss. I felt a hard rock positioned at my lower religion, he placed his member at my center and looked up at me. “My love, this may hurt for a few minutes, I promise I'll go slowly. We can do this together, the both of us. Since….I haven’t done this before either. Are you sure you want this, I'll stop if you're not ready.”

“I want you. I want you, Obi.“ I said, gripping the bed sheets in my fingers, never moving my gaze from his. “ Please just go gently.”

Obi wan nodded his head slowly brushing some hair out of my face just admiring my face in the small light that was provided by the bedside lamp. “I want you just as much as you want me.”

Within moments I felt the pain suddenly vanish and began to feel pleasure. I began to move against him and leaned up pressing my lips down upon his. He embraced me back instantly when my fingers dug into his back. And that was the most enjoyable night of our lives.

I decided after a few days later to finally tell him what was happening. He deserved to know the situation so that we could figure out what to do next together. Standing out of his door I sucked in a shaky breath raising my fist and knocking three times on his door where it opened slowly for him to greet me. “Y/n, what can I do for you?”

“We need to talk…alone. If you have some time before our council meeting.” I almost whispered under my breath before he allowed me to come inside.

He shut the door behind himself, raising a brow. “What is going on, darling?”

“Did you remember the night we shared together? Well something I thought wouldn’t happen ended up actually happening.” Fiddling with my fingers in front of me I lowered my gaze to the ground trying to not show how terrified I was.

Obi wan was a much sharper Jedi then I thought I was though when he takes a few steps towards me. “Y/n, if something is making you nervous you can tell me. You know that right. So what is bothering you?”

“Obi, please don’t be upset. I already don’t know what I am going to do with the result. I can’t handle it if you rat me out and abandon me.” I lifted my head showing him my face was turning red with heavy tears coming down my cheeks.

Obi touched my shoulders, shifting his blue orbs down to my eyes. “Darling, please tell me what is wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“I….I’m pregnant.” I croaked out lowering my head into his chest sobbing. “I’m pregnant with your child.”

The Jedi master froze for a moment so unsure of what to say. He was in the same position as yourself. He knew that the council wouldn’t allow you to remain in the temple. Yet he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist holding me gently letting silence fill the room until he finally separated the hug. “I’m not going to leave you, Y/n.”

“Wait what…are you being serious?” I sniffed clinging onto the fabric of his brown cloak for strength and his arms were still around my waist holding me close to his embrace.

He moved one hand to cradle the side of my face feeling me lean into his palm when he replied longingly. “I said I won’t leave you because you're pregnant. I know the risks that it means for us. But I’d be the biggest idiot if I left you over something we both consented too.”

“You have no idea how much of a relief that is to hear you say that, Obi wan.” I chuckled through tears with such relief off my shoulders as I fling my arms around his neck hugging him tightly but gently.

He tightened his grip around my waist, burying his face into my loose hair. His heart skipped a beat at the realization that he would be a father, he was terrified since he didn’t remember his own much. Yet there was more joy in his mind than fear. “I have been considering this for a long time. I guess you finally gave me the courage to do so…”

“What are you talking about…omg.” I gasped covering my mouth watching him lower himself down on one knee directly before me.

He revealed a tiny black box from inside his brown robe, opening it showing me a simple silver ring that had three jewels in the middle of it. His bright blue eyes poured up into mine. “Y/n, I love you. I know that we are told not to get attached to one another but I couldn’t help it. You are everything that I never knew I wanted until we started spending time together. This baby doesn’t want me to run away from all of that. It makes me want to stay by your side even more. So will you marry me?”

“Oh Obi Wan….yes.” I giggled letting him slide the ring on my finger getting to his feet. He cupped my face in his hands kissing me for the first time in a few days. I leaned up on my toes kissing him back.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @iifloweringnightsii

[dameronology]

Pls feel free to ignore but can I get some soft protective Obi-Wan? I’m going through it at the moment ❤️❤️😍 So happy to see you emerge!

i am so happy to be back! i hope you feel better soon <3

obi-wan is very understanding that you can look out for yourself and that you don't need his protection, but the minute he thinks you're going to be hurt, he's there no questions asked.

maybe you're in battle together, or you've just come back and you're injured; the poor man is trying to walk the line between showing you he cares and not outing your relationship to the council

so really, his main thing is getting you somewhere private. obi-wan is a strangely good liar, and he's pulling you away from the nurse droids, murmuring something about a fear of medical spaces and really, it would be better if i treated them so we can have a mission debrief

it works. probably because they're droids and they're not programmed to argue about these things. also, why he is panicking about outing your relationship to droids, who are also not programmed to give a fuck about that probably? just realised that as i'm typing. but it seems like the kind of silly thing that would r/whoosh over obi's head so. i'm going to keep it.

anyways, he has you on his bed in seconds, hands roaming all over your arms, whispers of i'm so glad you're okay and where does it hurt? and tell me what you need, my love.

it takes you a second to get your brain in order, mostly because you're probably concussed and the room is spinning, but it's something he deduces quickly.

after babysitting anakin for years, his medicine cabinet is actually better equipped than the jedi infirmary so whatever injury you have, he's got something to help it.

you don't say much whilst he's bandaging you up - you just let him do his work. more for his sake than for yours, because you don't care if you're a bit dizzy for a few days or that your bruises might linger, but he definitely does.

once you're a bit more with it, that's when obi becomes especially affectionate. he just sorta lays there with you, arms around you and holding you to his chest.

that's when you both calm down, just listening to each other's heartbeats and taking comfort in the fact that once again, you made it home safe, and you're both alive and well. alive and mostly well, in your case.

of course, there's a lecture about safety in the morning

but you've come to enjoy those too

[blackkatmagic]

Fox/Padme, recovering from grief.

The first time she wakes up and doesn’t immediately want the world to go back to sleep with her, Fox is on the other side of the tiny room, bouncing Leia on his knee, with Luke asleep against his shoulder.

It feels, a little, like the world is still. Like everything is spinning but they're at the eye of the storm, and Padmé lies in the hard, uncomfortable bed, every limb aching with the sort of exhaustion that’s beyond bone-deep, watching Fox smile at their children, and—

Oh, she thinks, and then, I've been sad.

It’s a revelation, even if it should be too simple for one. Putting a name to the grey haze of survival in this strange new world isn't precisely important, but—naming it helps, a little. Strangely so, maybe.

Leia burbles, bright, amused, and Fox leans in, smiling at her. He bumps their noses together, making Leia giggle, and she fists tiny hands in his greying hair, beams up at him. Fox looks back, like she’s the moon in an empty sky, like she’s everything, and Padmé breathes out, then slowly, carefully pushes up to sit.

Fox has been here the whole time. He’d found her on Mustafar, gotten her to medical help, gone into hiding with her. If not for him—

“Padmé,” he says, catching the movement, and immediately pushes up, crosses the room in a few long steps. When he sinks down on the bed beside her, Padmé gives him a smile, curls in tight against his side as he wraps an arm around her, and chuckles when Leia grabs for her hair, too.

“Look at the grip you have,” she tells her daughter, admiring. “So strong. Just like your father.”

She slides a hand into Fox’s, silent reassurance that she means him and no one else, and he breathes out, presses his cheek to her hair. His stubble catches, pulls, but it’s a good sort of prickle, makes her smile.

Fox and Luke and Leia are the only things that make her smile, these days, but—maybe that’s enough.

“Are you all right?” she asks quietly, taking Luke when Fox shifts him over. Luke stirs slightly, resettles, but doesn’t wake, and she kisses his fair hair, curls her legs up under herself to sink more fully against Fox’s side.

Fox is silent for a moment, then sighs, quiet. “Thire was leading the last patrol I saw,” he says. “He didn’t see me, but—he’d taken the paint off his armor.”

All of the clones have. Fox hadn’t heard the order that went out, because he lost his hearing early on in the war, had his hearing aids damaged in the attack. By the time he’d realized what happened, could work out what had been done to all the other clones, it was too late for him to do anything but follow Padmé and Obi-Wan to Mustafar.

“I'm sorry,” Padmé says, soft, and threads their fingers together, squeezing gently.

Fox is silent for a long moment. “I'm not,” he says finally. “Not sorry to have survived. Vader's always hated me. I wouldn’t have made it long, if I heard the order. This is…” He swallows, looking down at Padmé, at their children. Breathes in, and then says, “Not bad. Good, most days.”

Padmé smiles. In a few hours, they're going to have to get up, keep moving; even this far down, Coruscant isn't safe for them to stay in one place long. But—

She’s still sad. It still hurts, the thought of getting up and leaving, carrying on. But it hurts less than it did, maybe, and she has a word to put to the feeling now.

And when she does, Fox will go with her. That’s something.

Right now, sitting here with his heartbeat beneath her ear, it almost feels like everything.

[tennessoui]

Hello! This might be positively deranged of me, but do you have director's commentary for this ficlet you posted nigh on two years ago (https://rb.gy/4epfmv)? I love it deeply.

I've been following you for a few years now, and I'm very impressed by how your writing has grown. I really love your stories/headcanons/aus. Thank you for everything you do!

(link to a prompt fill for "meeting at the ER") (gffa, vaderwan)

what an amazing memory omg i genuinely love this ficlet, even though it's a great example of how i enjoy taking a very simple prompt (meeting at the ER) and making it as complicated as possible (so obi-wan and vader are on opposite sides of the war and they get injured in the same battle and must recoup in the same med tent but obi-wan doesn't know who is on the other side of the curtain from him because vader's helmet is off so obi-wan hears the voice of a young man for the first time and he can't see him and vader slowly grows obsessed with obi-wan's kindness and obi-wan only figures out it's vader when dooku comes to break him out of the medical wing and vader kills the guy opposite them who told obi-wan to stop talking---)

i adore identity shenanigans in fics. i'm a simple bitch. look at my fics honestly, this shouldn't surprise anyone i have like. 2 fics where veils are used, 1 fic where time travel is used, 1 fic where obi-wan almost fucks an alternate dimension anakin without knowing it's anakin, 1 fic where anakin is deaged and put into obi-wan's care like. i love identity shenanigans SO MUCH it's so fun to write what would happen if pre-conceived notions about someone are forcibly abandoned and you're just faced with who they are as a human and who they could be to you and this ficlet encapsulates that perfectly

shamefully though this part:

“I hope you recover a day after I do, Anakin.” Anakin sounds caught off guard. “What? Why?” “If you are the first to leave, I think I should miss your company.”

is completely ripped off of that winnie the pooh quote about living to be 100 minus 1 day lol i think anakin would be such a winnie the pooh fan no matter how many years he's been vader.

anyway it's about the softness and the normalcy and the kindness obi-wan offers to him!!! when he thinks he's just a civilian who may have fought on the wrong side!! it's his capacity to sympathize and understand and how much vaderkin needs someone to sympathize and understand!!!! it's the power of making connection through small talk <3

there's no way this verse ends with anything other than obi-wan's kindness winning over vaderkin's most horrible actions and impulses and vader being dragged into the Light because he realizes he wants obi-wan's soft words. he wants obi-wan to ask him about his day. always.

(send me a "director's cut" ask!)

[purple-ant]

thank you for tagging @bolithesenate 💜

The rules: post snippets from at least one WIP you have abandoned! 

i have a lot of abandoned WIPs, mostly ideas that i didn't feel the energy to pursue before losing interest and right now i'm writing on syku and beautiful comments energy so i don't think i'll be going back to them anytime soon or ever. the language in some of them is very... meh

but i really like this one! 

Title: galaxy in veins

Description:

The Force binds everything, it is in the stars and their dust that forms the bones of sentients throughout the galaxy. The Jedi, connected to and drawn to the Force, carried more starlight within them than was normal in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy.

They say that even the stars go out, but how can one live in a galaxy where they are extinguished?

———

Bail knows how stars are born. How huge molecular clouds, disturbed by the surrounding space, shift and hydrogen particles press together like starved lovers. Closer and larger, until they reach collapse and begin to fall apart under their own heat. From decay comes heat, from which life is born. Not at its epicenter, but somewhere outside, not close enough to harm, not so far away as to remain indifferent.

Bail sees the birth of two, and that is all he knew and nothing else.

Padmé is a friend, ally, leader. Stellar nursery. Her heavy breathing and screams hit the walls of the room, are scattered across parsecs of space, and the asteroid rings shake as the medical droid methodically carries out its work. And now, light years later, the universe exhales, two stars illuminate the cold vacuum. Their first cries are solar flares, causing the devices to stutter. Bail can hear them even through the glass, but Obi-Wan on the other side doesn't flinch.

Padme gave all of herself to the galaxy and her last gift was a binary system. Luke and Leia.

Bail walks like a moth into the light and finds Obi-Wan. He sits hunched against the wall, in his arms there are three hundred stellar masses, no more than six kilograms. Sparkling and shimmering wings, like in a kaleidoscope, fill the room, and shadows fearfully gather outside. Nebulae pour from too many eyes, and Obi-Wan swaddles the children in them. 

“We need to hide, kids,” Obi-Wan says. His voice pulses, lost in Bail's consciousness, but Luke and Leia watch, caught in the attraction. Again, too many eyes. “They are looking for light, and you are so bright,” and he hides them behind interstellar clouds, green and orange silks, too expensive to buy. “Close your eyes, like this.”

And the piercing lights dissolve like fog, the light of the wings is absorbed into the skin, hiding in the constellations of freckles. Obi-Wan exhales, turns his gaze to the children, who are too small, gods, they were just born. But maybe it’s the Force, maybe the reality of the danger that awaits beyond the hands of the Jedi, but gradually, like lanterns in the morning, the brown whirlpools disappear, the blue ones follow them.

“These too, young lady,” Obi-Wan says sternly, with a ghost of a smile, running his calloused fingers over her soft cheek. A second passes, the worlds go out. “Well done, great job, lights.”

The galaxy is spinning, the moment is passing, the children are screaming. Obi-Wan, very tired, very human, throws his head back.

“Let me save you,” Bail unfreezes and approaches the Jedi.

“Please, Bail,” Obi-Wan’s voice is hoarse, but he is in no hurry to part with either twin.

Okay, Bail can do it. He kneels in front of the Jedi, reaching for the two screaming packages.

“Your crude matter needs rest,” Bail says softly.

His friend's mind would not be at peace now. But one day, in a year or twenty, it will happen. Bail knows because he knows Obi-Wan. Not ten years, not even five, but he was there at the most desperate moment, when even the emptiness of space receded in the face of darkness, and Obi-Wan's light shrunk to a single candle. But he burned, stubbornly and against all odds. It was then, on Zigula, that Bail was pulled into his orbit.

Obi-Wan looks at Bail's hands, then at the twins. He doesn't even have the strength for consolation - the latter was laid on the obstetric table by Padme, and he is so tired of fighting with his friends. Obi-Wan slowly hands Leia and Luke over to him like crystal, and Bail accepts them like treasure. The warm supernovae in his hands continue to attack his eardrums. Perhaps the constant bickering in the Senate has made him a little less sensitive to such frequencies.

Bail leaves the room, the meddroid has prepared milk mixtures - hydrogen for the combustion of tiny blue stars, but lingers in the doorway. Turns around. The shadows return to the room, breaking through the flimsy defenses of the electric lamps, and Obi-Wan appears among them as part of the equipment. Another device that has served its purpose and is now hidden under the tarpaulin of the cloak.

“On your way, continue, senator,” it sounds next to him, and Bail doesn’t jump. His burden is too important for him to afford.

“Master Yoda,” he greets the Grand Master of the destroyed order, but his gaze is still focused on Obi-Wan.

“Care of young Obi-Wan, I will take. The younglings need your attention now.”

Bail wouldn't call his friend young. Too old for his years? Maybe. A red giant from which the outer shell was torn off, like armor, leaving it as a white dwarf. An eternity of dim light.

Bail turns his gaze to Master Yoda. He looks as old as ever. Like the one who saw the birth of the universe, held young galaxies, and then, at one moment, only planetary nebulae from dead stars remained on his old wrinkled hands.

“You are right, Jedi Master. Thank you.”

Bail walks away slowly enough to see Master Yoda approach Obi-Wan, brushing off the settled cosmic dust, and the ruined bastion shifts, gnarled fingers reaching across light years to touch another survivor.

Despite everything, there is still light in the galaxy.

———

no pressure tags: @man-i-dunno @calcedon79

[hawthornsword]

For the wip tag thing - could you tell us some about Loyalty As A Love Language pt 2? <3

I'd be glad to!

I wrote the first part so quickly I never thought it would take me this long to continue it, but I have a bad habit of scope creep - my stories always get much bigger than I initially expect. Currently it's got its own folder with files of notes for Kamino, Fox, Rex, The Bad Batch, and one that I make myself laugh with every time I see it called "Alpha Seventeen's Guide to Rehabilitating Your Sith."

But I won't tease, I know you want more Waxer/Boil. 😁

Here's a bit of Waxer post-Umbara:

Waxer lay against soft pillows listening to the sound of the heart monitor beeping. He couldn't see it because the right side of his face was still bandaged. He'd only come out of bacta yesterday. The Jedi healers said his recovery would be slow, due to bacta shortages - they couldn't spare any more. He'd have to heal the old fashioned way, and then go through physical therapy after that.

Waxer had taken the edge of a grenade blast on Umbara. He didn't remember much of the event itself besides hearing Obi-Wan's voice through the haze of pain. Later, Rex told him that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had healed everyone on the battlefield who wasn't already dead. The Jedi got them stable enough for the medics to take over.

Waxer had just sighed. 'Helix isn't letting Obi-Wan out of his sight, is he?"

Rex laughed. "You've got that right. I think he's been quoting studies about the dangers of Force exhaustion. And Kix would be the same with Ahsoka, but Charger has followed her around like a duckling ever since she saved him on the Citadel mission, so Kix appointed him her personal medic."

Waxer had laughed through his pain. Now, he closed his eyes so he didn't have to stare at the warmly sunlit walls of the healing halls that were the wrong shade of gold. The 212th and the 501st had both shipped out from Coruscant again before Waxer had come out of bacta, and they weren't yet out of hyperspace. Bugs, the padawan-healer in charge of him, had looked a little starry eyed when Waxer had woken and said he needed to call his riduur, and had promised to let Waxer know as soon as he was able to. The kid was a Zeltron - a natural born romantic.

There was a sigh to his left. Waxer glanced over with just his eyes. It was still hard to move his neck.

"I'm bored," Hardcase whined. Waxer chuckled and winced. Some things never changed. Hardcase had been hard to corral since they were cadets.

"Case, you got blown up. Don't you want to rest?"

"Only a little, not nearly as bad as you. I need something to do, or I won't be able to rest."

"Ask Bugs when they come by. I'm sure they'll be happy to help." Waxer suggested. Hardcase lit up at the mention of the padawan. They were already thick as thieves.

[wandering-writer-ha]

Here is the sneak peak for squad 7! @cloneshippingbigbang

I’m excited to be presenting this to y’all! I hope you enjoy it :D

@reaalikaasu is the very talented artist!

Fic Title: Best Part

Rated: Teen

Word count: Over 25,000

Pairing: Fox x Thorn

Tags: cloneshipping, clonecest, CC-1010 | Fox, Clone Commander Thorn, CC-5869 | Stone, CC-4477 | Thire, CC-2224 | Cody, Clone ocs, jedi ocs, Sheev Palpatine, Mother Talzin, Canon-typical violence, palpatine dies, Mace Windu, Plo Koon, CC-6454 | Ponds, CC-3636 | Wolffe, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, Satine Kryze, Mon Mothma, Padme Amidala, Bail Organa, Alpha-17,  CC-1010 | Fox / Clone Commander Thorn, implied anirexdala, 

Summary: Commanders Fox and Thorn are trying to survive the war together on Coruscant. Can they survive Palpatine’s machinations?

Snippet:

Stone’s voice was groggy and confused on the other end of the comm. "Fox? What's going on?"

"I overslept, somehow. I’m sure I set the alarms properly - some bastard must have turned them off," Fox explained in a rush. “Why didn't you comm me earlier? You know that Brink is going to be on your ass for pulling a third double in a row, even if I am grateful that you apparently decided to cover my shift without checking in with me. But I'm not injured, so you didn't need to do that.” He transferred the call to his bucket comm as he finished dressing in his armor, pausing for just a moment to snatch a breath and one of the emergency ration bars stashed in his bunk-side drawer.

"What? No, I'm not still on shift,” Stone answered, and he sounded increasingly bewildered. “Thorn took report a couple of hours ago. It's fine, Fox. Don't you - " 

Fox cursed under his breath, tensing up further. He'd been unsure about whether or not the unnamed thing between himself and Thorn should continue - despite the warm-soft-fuzzy feelings, he didn't want to overstep, and here Thorn was covering for one of his missteps. "Force karking damn it. I still wish that one of you had woken me up! I'll be at headquarters in five. Hopefully he hasn't had to cover too many of the meetings I'm supposed to be in for security reasons today."

"FOX! You don't have any meetings scheduled today. You're also not scheduled for patrol!" Stone half-yelled. "Fox, don't you remember?"

Fox paused for a moment, trying to figure out what Stone was referring to. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, but in his not-panic over being so horribly late to his shift he couldn't quite remember what it was that he should be remembering. "Remember what? That I'm horribly, horribly late? And that if any of the nat-borns we deal with - outside of the Jetiise - realize this slip up, it's back to Kamino for recalibration if I'm lucky?"

"Force's sake, Fox! You have the day off. Your request for leave went through," Stone cut in, talking over more of Fox's babbling with fond exasperation. "None of us woke you up because you're on leave.”

Fox blinked in surprise, and the memories slowly filtered back in at Stone’s words. That’s right; he had  five days off, all in a row. His request, submitted months ago, had finally been approved a couple of days previously, despite the Supreme Chancellor originally rejecting it. 

Fox had Bulwark to thank for that; the Chief Medical Officer had petitioned the Jedi Council directly, citing that battlefield commanders regularly got leave after campaigns, but the four commanders of the Coruscant Guard had never been granted leave because they were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Apparently he’d also had some choice words about CorSec all but abandoning their duties to the Guard - none of which the vode were even trained for, much less had the resources to take on. 

While Fox had been concerned to hear that one of his vode had criticized CorSec so blatantly to the Jedi, he had to admit that Bulwark got results. Each of the commanders would get a few days of leave off over the following months.

Fox, who knew well that the kindly old grandfather persona that the chancellor projected in public was a flimsi-thin mask hiding quite a bit of petty vindictiveness, was surprised that the Jedi had been able to strongarm him into agreeing to even that much, and he dreaded how Chancellor Palpatine would punish the Guard for it later. It was clear that the chancellor had grown very used to having an enormous amount of power and the privilege that came with it. Then again, maybe even he had finally admitted that the Guard was of no use to anyone if they burned out.

“...Right,” Fox replied belatedly. “I forgot. Sorry to have bothered you.” He winced. “I woke you up, didn’t I?”

[vgilantee]

wip roundup!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS!

so @glossysoap tagged me in a wip roundup but i didn't want to go into my wips before i finished my paper because... crunch time :) these won't be in the order of when they're going to get posted because truly, fuck knows at this point (i have goals though dw dw)

on camera - ethan landry x reader, ethan has a nsfwtwt

finish what he started - commander cody x reader (this one is my top priority to finish!)

kix x reader, untitled kix body worship fic. just taking care of the medic like he deserves hehe

soft focus fog chapter 3 - benedict bridgerton x reader, even though it's nowhere near finished it's my absolute favourite series i've ever written so far (this one is second priority, i just need to rewatch bridgerton! also i welcome asks about this series and Dear (which is what i've decided to call her!))

worlds apart chapter 1 - neteyam sully x human (eventual avatar) reader

untitled reunion fic - simon riley x reader (it's going to be so soft and loving because it's an ask from my sweet julie @websterss )

untitled yj!cameron mahkent x reader - hurt/comfort, i haven't written DC in so so long, but i read so many cam fics and had the biggest crush on him when i was a teen

untitled john price x reader - riding his pretty face hehe (i know glossy has one of these on her wip list but i haven't been able to stop thinking about it since i sent my ask so i'm gonna write my own too. there's no such thing as too many pussy-eating price fics)

codywan x reader - obi-wan's been sex pollen'd, reader and cody help him out 🤭

(unsure about this one) dom!reader x sub!chad x sub!ethan - the only reason i'm unsure is i'm on the fence about mommy kinks. if people are interested let me know and i'll add it to the wip list officially!

i also have one that isn't technically a wip because i haven't decided who yet, but i wanna write a pegging fic. OOOH maybe cal kestis...

that's all i have so far, and a couple of them are asks that are sitting, waiting for attention, and this list will undoubtedly grow

all these wips aside i desperately want to write for the 141 i just need ideas (i may have a bookish!reader x biker!ghost idea brewing for definitely no reason at all, glossy i swear) this includes darker fic ideas. i'll be redoing my whole theme and adjusting my yes's and no's, but if you have a dark idea, send it through and i'll decide from there whether i'm into it or not!

[viablemess]

so I revised an abandoned tumblr to participate in codywan week and am scrambling to finish anything bc of grad school but I'm proud of my progress so here's a snippet @codywanweek it might not be done on time but I'll post what I have when it starts ✨️

***

Cody realized two things almost simultaneously. One, the smell in the General's chambers was different. Two, he should not be able to identify the General's chambers by smell.

He had knocked, as per usual. Just three weeks ago, the General had berated him because Cody had been given verbal permission twenty or so times to walk into the General's cramped quarters with his pin but still was not entirely comfortable doing so. Inside, he found the General as he frequently did, meditating atop a faded blue and gold cushion, eyes shut, a river rock floating in a lazy circle around him. Usually, the quarters smelled of cloves, ozone, petrichor, and standard GAR-issued soap. Something was different, though. Something clawed at Cody's throat as if he had swallowed sand. It stuck and hung heavily.

Whatever it was, Cody did not like it.

"Sir?" He approached cautiously, having never interrupted Obi-Wan's mid-meditation before. Something about it felt private.

Obi-Wan's chest rose and fell, and only once Cody was closer did he realize how rapid the movement was. He had noticed before what the General's normal breathing was–he should not know such finite details, he chided himself–and this was not it.

The sand sensation got thicker. "Sir?"

Still, there was yet to be a response. Something nearby was humming, a low, lulling sound that could put Cody to sleep.

Cody lifted a careful hand, and how many times had he done this? He would enter the General's quarters to find him passed out at his desk or on the floor. More often than not, Obi-Wan would awaken before the door fully opened. Still, other times Cody got lucky, and Obi-Wan slept. The man needed it, Cody told himself. He was not happy when he could brush at his hair to wake him up, noticing that the strands were not as soft as they looked but no less pleasant. Once Cody woke Obi-Wan when he tried to transfer the man from his desk to bed, Cody told the resident medic, Pita, to check the General's lowering weight more closely next time. He tried not to think about that, either.

No. Cody was not happy about those moments at all. They physically hurt to be given a glimpse into what he was reasonably sure he wanted but could not have.

When Cody's hand touched Obi-Wan's shoulder, the ground dropped beneath him. Cody was rapidly and sluggishly falling through the inky vastness of space. Falling through something dark and cold. His stomach burned like a high-pitched ringing, and acid clawed at his eyes. He blinked away tears that he somehow knew were not his own, then blinked into awareness again.

"Commander, can you hear me?" Obi-Wan was talking, and Cody was flat on his ass staring at the ceiling of the General's quarters. He groaned.

"Kriff," Cody croaked. He tried to figure out when the air was knocked from his lungs.

"Cody," Obi-Wan said again, voice more urgent. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm alright." He blearily got into a sitting position, looking Obi-Wan over. The room was as it was, but Obi-Wan was awake, and the cushion was pushed aside. Distantly something was still humming. "Are you alright, Sir?"

Obi-Wan appeared confused, his eyes slightly glassy, and Cody's nerves spiked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I…" Cody trailed off, unsure why he felt compelled to ask. "Remind me to never interrupted jetii meditation again."

Obi-Wan gave a humorless laugh. "I shall, but I do not believe that to be the problem. You should not have experienced such an adverse reaction to merely shaking me out of a meditation. What happened, if you do not mind my asking?"

Cody wrangled his words. He looked the General over at the bags beneath his eyes and felt something soothing, like cool silk draped around him. Cody sighed. "I was falling, it felt like through a large, open area. Then I was… maybe burning. Or in acid. Something like that."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I believe I was experiencing visions, some I know to be of the past, others I could not identify. I'm sorry you had to experience that."

"Visions, Sir?" Because his General needed something else precarious going on.

"Indeed, Commander. Although they have not happened much since I was a young teenager."

Again, Cody let out a long exhale, in no hurry to get up, both for his own sake and his General's. Their knees almost touched, wedged on the ground between the bed, desk, and the small meditation corner with the strange sound. Cody turned towards it.

"Sir, is that new?" Next to the cushion was a stone or some dark matte marble device. It was no larger than a communicator in diameter, albeit a bit taller, maybe a hand and a half. It had a narrow curved spout sticking up like a tea kettle.

Obi-Wan followed his gaze. "Yes, I'm not normally attached to material things, but it's been calming to use. It is an incense burner. Historically jedi used them for meditation but have abandoned the practice due to lack of time. I cannot quite place the smell, but…" the General paused, and in that pause, both Cody and Obi-Wan spoke simultaneously.

"I don't like it, Sir. It feels weird."

"It was a gift from the Chancellor."

[kenobster]

For the WIP Game when you have time: Skin and Sores and Bones.

You have discovered the sequel to Five Peggats Each!! :D And it's also perfect you chose it because this will be the many words of recovery arcs I promised you XD Here is a taste:

Obi-Wan takes the flimsipad back. His hand trembles with a hint of pain as he writes, even though the penmanship remains immaculate. Many reasons, it says when he's done. Hadn’t decided yet. Probably wouldn’t have. The phrase not your fault is now underlined twice. For a long time, Anakin thinks about that—about the many reasons. He thinks about it as he stares around the medbay. When the lights are on, like they are now, the walls shine a burning, sterile white. The dull gray of the metal counter, cabinets, and exam table are the only accents of color. Even though Anakin stacked much of the room's contents onto the counter, bandages, bacta patches, and other nonlethal medical supplies remain scattered around the floor. It's a mess of reminders—of their injuries and, by extension, their injuries' source.  He thinks about it as he studies Obi-Wan’s makeshift bed. Though the colorless white blankets are warm and soft, the surface of the durasteel floor radiates an icy chill. The fabric of Obi-Wan’s trousers are caught in uncomfortable-looking clumps where they meet the bands of the brace Anakin printed for him. His robes reek of excrement, sweat, and urine—not because Anakin hasn’t thoroughly cleaned them, but because some stains get so woven into the fabric that they never wash away completely—and somehow, Obi-Wan has avoided every opportunity to change them. Anakin chews his lip.  Maybe this room was their best option days ago. They were exhausted. Could barely hold their eyes open. Gauze and antibiotics and painkillers and bacta patches and flesh glue were all in one place and within easy reach. The reality of opening their eyes to something that wasn’t fucking them was relief enough back then. Back then, sweaty, filthy, gummy robes were the least of their worries. Maybe this room is not their best option anymore. Maybe being able to sleep in peace isn't enough anymore.

I used to have a bad habit of injuring my characters (i.e. breaking their bones, etc.) and then promptly forgetting all about it (i.e. next scene, magically unbroken lmao). As a result, whenever I write anything, I keep an ongoing list of physical conditions so I can make sure they're continuously considered. The amount of injuries for this fic though is absolutely insane. The amount of medical research I have done to wrap my head around what is a livable injury, an at-home-treatable injury, a requires-surgical-attention injury, and/or can-be-scifi'd injury is insane.

Idk how I'm gonna pull it off, but one thing is for sure: there is no way we are getting Anakin's shoulder back into its socket without a doctor. which means we are not getting it back into its socket at all for a looooong time.

(Also someone needs to get Obi-Wan anti-depressants)

[floundrickthewayfarer]

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

🧪 Do you research for your fics?

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

🤩 What led to your interest in the fandom?

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I think I would have to go with Sing Me a Song. I learned a lot and really enjoyed writing that one, and, despite its flaws, I do feel proud of it. Crosshair is a fun POV character to write, and I had so much fun writing his relationships with the other Batchers.

🧪 Do you research for your fics?

I do! I actually get really easily side-tracked when writing. For "Postmortem," especially, I spent a lot of time researching lethal injection drugs and medical information, something I'm not familiar with at all. Sing Me a Song also had me researching computer/virus terminology a lot (or asking my partner about it.)

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

I find Crosshair difficult to write, though I've gotten more accustomed to him. Especially before season 2, we didn't really have much to go on for his characterization in canon, which necessitated me re-watching scenes to try to pin him down. I am definitely guilty of writing him too soft a lot of the time, but it's a fun challenge to try to keep him in-character.

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

There are so many I enjoy! Right now, I'm following Snapback by TooManyTeeth and Silent Shot by IsadiahInDisguise. And I eagerly read anything by @saturn-sends-hugs and @the-bi-space-ace. The last fic I read was "An Honorable Burden Best Shared" by @renton6echo, which made me laugh. ;)

🤩 What led to your interest in the fandom?

I've always loved Star Wars, since I grew up watching the movies practically on repeat with my siblings. Attack of the Clones was my favorite one because I loved the arena battle with the cool creatures. As a little kid, I refused to watch the ending of Return of the Jedi because it made me sad when Vader died, or Revenge of the Sith, because the ending when Obi-wan and Anakin fight upset me.

I don't really remember my exact watch order! I seem to remember watching TBB and the final season of TCW all out of order because I had no idea who Echo was, and had to go back and watch Echo's episodes after being introduced to him in TBB. I also don't remember when I decided Echo was my favorite, but, given the genre of characters I gravitate toward, it shouldn't have come as a shock. (Spoiler alert: they're all traumatized cyborgs.)

[exonerin]

WIP WEDNESDAY

The third chapter of In Your Dreams! is almost finished. So, that one will go up later this week. Without further ado, here's a preview of chapter 3, which starts with Obi-Wan's POV:

Also, I'm aware this makes no sense whatsoever unless you've read the preceding chapters on AO3, but you really don't want to read my unedited trash.

"We should probably turn on the lights," he decided. Although this didn't look like a medical emergency, Obi-Wan wanted to confirm Anakin hadn't suffered some rare medical condition with a rapid onset that would soon kill his former Padawan. The dim blue glow from the swimming pool obscured all details, casting the pool into dark shadows. Although magical, Obi-Wan needed some actual light to gauge what he was dealing with, and knowing Anakin, anything was possible.

Using the Force, he flicked the lights on, bathing the swimming pool in cold, white light. Although the magical atmosphere was disturbed, Anakin was still a… well, a merman -- a rather smug one, too.

"That was a trivial, arrogant misuse of the Force!" Anakin accused. "Does that mean I have permission to do the same?"

"Has a lack of permission ever stopped you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I'll take that as a tacit agreement," Anakin gloated, looking so triumphant that Obi-Wan decided to drop the issue altogether. If improper use of the Force brought his former Padawan joy, he would gladly overlook it. Instead, he focused on the tail.

It was gorgeous, the most majestic thing Obi-Wan had ever seen. Long and sleek, the tail was draped over the tiles. Thin as a membrane, a long caudal fin crowned the tip of Anakin, painted in a dark shade of russet -- almost blood red, as was the dorsal fin. These dark hues only emphasized the blazing red scales on the tip of Anakin's tail, which tapered to a pretty pink near his waist, where the scales grew sparser. The pale shade of pink looked vulnerable compared to the intense red near the tip, so exposed, sensitive, and soft that Obi-Wan itched to reach out and stroke over the smooth scales.

He lifted a hand slowly, giving Anakin time to jerk away or show discomfort. Anakin didn't react at all. His fingertips touched the vibrant red first, glidingly smoothly over the slimy scales, which were as soft as Obi-Wan had imagined. In wonder, he pressed his palm against the red scales, stunned by the contrast between his skin and the scales.

Stars. Anakin was beautiful.

Languidly, his hand trailed higher over the center of Anakin's tail, taking his sweet time to marvel at the glide. The scales grew paler as he traveled further until he reached the tea rose and dusty pastel pinks. Somehow, these scales were even softer, almost bending under Obi-Wan's soft touch, dipping under his fingertips. Enchanted, he rubbed over the scales, keeping his touch light to avoid hurting Anakin. His calloused fingers looked rough compared to the fragile scales, and he discovered that the pink scales had veins running through them, barely visible due to their pale color. The scales were thin, Obi-Wan judged, barely providing any protection, unlike the thicker scales near the tip. Intrigued by this discovery, he brushed his thumb over the scales, noting minute differences in color and saturation. Some scales were almost pearly white. As he rubbed his thumb over the scales, they seemed to split in a thin line several centimeters below Anakin's belly button, which was exposed since his tunic had rucked up at some point. Probably when Obi-Wan had deposited him on the tiles. He hadn't noticed, too immersed in Anakin's tail.

And then we stop because I'm not sure how far I can go with explicit content on here. Needless to say, Obi-Wan will indulge some scientific curiosity. Anakin's a willing victim of said research.

[crispyjenkins]

Prompt where the 212 gets together to paint Obi-Wan’s armor so he would wear it more but at some point our fool gets captured and his captor wears the armor to piss Kenobi off so when the 212 comes in Cody goes absolutely feral when he sees someone else where his general’s armor and Kenobi gets absolutely railed by Cody after.

(i don’t do smut, but i love this idea so so much, i really don’t know why i haven’t come across more painted armour Obi stuff, and y’all have probably realised i’m all about Obi angst, sooo this one was a lot of fun. thank you so much for prompting, lovely! threw in some headcanon mandalorian family and courting culture just for you) 

  Jedi were not made to wear armour, they were not soldiers, at least not before. Cody knows his general picked up clone culture better than most, from the little bits of Mando’a to the importance of Vode An, and he should perhaps be thankful that General Kenobi wears any armour at all, but what good are simple pauldrons and vambraces when Kenobi throws himself against hundreds of clankers without backup on a weekly basis?

  It’s Wupi that suggests it, drunk on Waxer’s rotgut and going grey with how often he has to patch up their general after missions. Boil is mostly amused by Kenobi’s apparent death wish, but he isn’t like their medic, or Cody: he doesn't have to deal with the fallout when Kenobi comes back to the Negotiator so much worse off than his men.

  “Why don’t we give him one o’ yours armours?” Wupi had slurred, half out of his blacks and staring into his cup like it would relieve him of his duty. “S’General’s too nice to lose someone else’s.” 

  Wooley had jerked his attention from his own cup and stared at Cody because that... that wasn’t a bad idea. 

  And because Wupi is too hungover the next day to do anything about it himself, it’s Wooley that starts the task of finding and retrofitting pieces of clone armour to fit their general (their “wonderfully tiny" general, as Wupi had put before passing out in his chair). It takes a few days, bouncing between three different quartermasters and Commander Tano for input on how to wear it over more traditional Jedi clothes, but Wooley finally amasses something close to a full set that they might convince Kenobi to wear, and then goes around giving each member of the Ghost Company a few pieces to paint. 

  Cody tries not to think about why Wooley gives him the chestplate. He tries really hard.

  There’s something to be said about family giving each other armour, of course, Cody doesn’t think Wooley or Boil or Wupi or Waxer are trying to woo their general, and it shows in the pieces of armour they choose to paint, but the breastplate is... forward, when not given in a familial sense, and Cody can’t pretend that he is. Giving it in a familial sense. Kriff. 

  Ghost Company all sit together in the empty mess one night, Cody having strategically made sure their sleeping shifts line up, and they paint the pieces while drinking more of Waxer’s rotgut and pretending they don’t have a battle tomorrow that they might not win. Cody’s men paint each piece to match their own, so that Kenobi’s set is a mix of bits of each of them. They aren’t quite sure how it works for natborn Mandalorians, there were limits on what the Kaminoins let the Cuy’val Dar teach them, but this is as close as they can get to claiming Ken— Obi-Wan as one of the vode. The meaning won’t be lost on him.

  Cody carefully paints his sun rays onto Obi-Wan’s chestplate, the orange crisp and shiny-bright, and he wonders if Obi-Wan knows the meaning of colours on beskar’gam. He seems to know a lot about Mandalorian culture that even the clones don’t, but Cody has never pushed to know more about why, not when it makes Obi-Wan clam up like that.

  Boil finishes quickly, and just as quickly gets completely smashed to the point he’s singing the last raunchy jig they’d picked up planet-side, and it’s almost calming to see him so relaxed. Waxer smiles fondly at his brother and switches his cup for one of water instead, shaking his head at Wooley’s disapproving glare. 

  Cody waits until the others have gone to bed to ask for the medic’s steady hand, to help him stencil a beskar’ta right above the sternum. He isn’t sure if he’s ever seen another vode with a beskar’ta, and perhaps it’s a little presumptuous for Cody to give Obi-Wan one without discussing it with him first, but he can offer no greater protection to his general. The way Wupi doesn’t say anything when Cody carefully paints in the lines says more about his relationship with Obi-Wan than he’d really like to admit. 

  Cody isn’t there when Wooley presents the armour to him, but when Obi-Wan joins them in the hangar before descent planet-side, he wears every piece as if it were the regalia of some ancient royal, and not a cobbled-together attempt to keep him alive. The rest of the 212th hide their stares inside their buckets, and Obi-Wan still wears his outer robe over it all, but Ghost Company all preen at the sight of their general not only protected, but in their colour and crests. 

  Obi-Wan smiles at Cody as they load into the shuttles, tapping a closed fist over the beskar’ta in all-too-knowing thanks. So he knows at least the familial connotations, which doesn’t bode well for Cody’s half hope that that’s all he knows.

  Crys claps Cody on the shoulder with an eyebrow wiggle, and Cody wishes Jango hadn’t taught them a damn thing. 

-

  Day three without water, even with the Force sustaining him, leaves Obi-Wan more than a little delirious. The Nikto bounty hunter that thought they could somehow convince Count Dooku that they’d captured the famed Negotiator grows increasingly agitated as the hours roll by, and Obi-Wan wishes he had better presence of mind to appreciate it. 

  They have him on his knees and strung up in chains like a barbarian, and stick him with a needle every three hours with some sort of Force suppressor that makes him even more incoherent — Obi-Wan is fairly sure they’re over-drugging him. Actually, perhaps the Force isn’t sustaining him properly; that would certainly explain a lot. 

  The morning of day four in the brig of a ship Obi-Wan can’t remember the make of, the Nikto starts picking through his removed armour, with scathing comments about the colour and fact that it had come from “cannon-fodder slaves that are better put-down than eating up the galaxy’s resources”, and oh, Obi-Wan wishes he could rend them limb from limb.

  “A bastardisation of Mando armour, you know,” the Nikto grumbles, sending Obi-Wan a pitying look when all he can do is grunt angrily. “Look, this even has an iron heart; what poor kriffing fool told you you were allowed to wear such a mark?” Scoffing, the Nikto discards their cloak to slip on Obi-Wan’s chestplate; every last scrap of energy in Obi-Wan screams at the wrongness, and he jerks in his chains.

  The Nikto startles and doesn’t get to fastening the sides as they stare at their prisoner. “You shouldn’t have any mobility left,” they say in part surprise, part anger, getting back to their feet to drag the small medical crate of suppressors back across the room. They kick it open and pull out an almost-empty vial, but don’t get to the needles before a proximity alarm goes off.

  They drop the vial and grab the blaster from their hip, and barely get it up in time for the single door to explode inwards, Ghost Company forcing their way into the room before the smoke has even cleared. And Obi-Wan trusts his men, his family, with every Force-forsaken bit of him, which means he promptly passes out at the sight of them.

  He doesn’t wake in safety, rather with a vibroblade pressed to his throat and a hand twisting cruelly in his hair. His vision is filled with white and orange and warmth, before his brain catches up to what he’s actually seeing, and he focuses on the blank helmets of his men. The suppressors in his system do nothing to hide the molten metal anger that leaks into the Force all around them, and Obi-Wan must look worse than he thought, if Cody’s hand is trembling on his blaster.

  ‘Easy,’ Obi-Wan whispers without moving his lips, Cody giving the smallest of jerks so Obi-Wan knows the message is received.

  ‘Sir?’ Cody shifts on his feet, the Nikto saying something from behind Obi-Wan that’s surely full of gloating and threat, but Cody’s helmet is tilted towards Obi-Wan, his presence fluttering in the Force like a lamp in the dark.

  ‘I’m not quite sure how you’re managing this,’ Obi-Wan admits, with half a thought to the cosmic implication of Cody giving him a beskar’ta, which has meaning even outside Mandalore, outside even the Force. ‘But my lovely captor is weak on their left side, an old injury, I think.’

  ‘He’s wearing your armour,’ Cody all but growls and raises his blaster properly, and the Nikto must sense the change as they nervously fumble the vibroblade and cut through the collar of Obi-Wan’s tunic.

  And Obi-Wan is tired, he’s been in chains for four days with drugs he’s never encountered burning the ends of his nerves and cutting off an entire sense he has never been without, so he looks up until he meets Cody’s eyes squarely. ‘Then relieve them of it.’

  ‘With pleasure, sir.’

Mando’a: Vode An — "Brothers All" (a Mando’a war chant taught to the clones by Jango and the Cuy’val Dar)  Cuy’val Dar — “Those who no longer exist”, group of 75 Mando’ade and 25 others put together by Jango to train the clones beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy beskar’ta — “Iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called ka’rta beskar or “heart of the iron”

[shangchiswife]

anakin/obi-wan/padme- period?

This was a request that I ended up altering the prompt of. To the person that requested this if this isn't what you wanted I'm sorry!!

summary: reader is late for practice in the morning so anakin and obi-wan investigate and reader tells them that they are on their period so they call padme.

obi-wan x afab!reader x anakin x padme (platonic)

warnings: none just periods

word count: 829

You had been having a nice sleep when you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen.

Your eyes shot open as you clutched your stomach, immediately curling in a fetal position as if you had been majorly injured.

It was hurting so bad that a few tears slipped down your cheeks.

You groaned as you rolled around your sheets, planting your face promptly into your pillow, still continuing to groan.

You lay there for an hour, trying to ease the pain in your abdomen before you heard a loud knock on your door.

“Y/N?” a voice called from behind your door.

Fuck, you thought before turning over to your clock. The moment your eyes scanned it you cursed internally once more.

You were late for your sparring match with your fellow padawan, Anakin Skywalker.

“I don’t think I’m feeling up for fighting today, Ani,” you croaked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah, just feeling a little sick,” you said as you felt another stab in your body.

“I’m coming in,”

Your eyes widened.

“Anakin, Anakin no!”

It was too late, the door that led to your quarters had been opened and a fully-robed Anakin sauntered into the room, his lightsaber attached to his dark robes.

His dark eyes immediately landed on your bed where you lay.

He knelt by your bed and pressed his hand to your forehead.

“You don’t seem to have a fever?” the long-haired man sounded confused.

“Anakin it’s because-”

“Anakin did you get them I’ve been waiting?” the voice of Obi-Wan appeared from by the door.

Good grief, you thought. 

“Master she’s ill but I don’t understand it she doesn’t have a fever or a cough?” he told the Jedi-Master as he walked over to where you are.

A stray tear fell down your cheek as Obi-Wan’s blue eyes looked down at your figure with worry.

He swiped your tear away.

“Dear, what’s wrong?” his voice was soft as he knelt beside Anakin.

“You guys ugh,” another jab beat at your belly as you curled up further into a ball.

“Maker call a medical droid, Anakin,” Obi-Wan stood up, anxiety filling his entire system.

“Master, what’s going on?” Anakin’s dark eyes were as large as saucers.

“I’m not sure-”

“GUYS!” you screamed.

Both of their heads snapped towards you, matching looks of shock covering their faces.

“I’m on my period,”

The moment you finished your sentence, both of the Jedi’s cheeks flamed.

“Oh,” they said in unison.

“Can you please get Padme? She’ll know what to do,” your eyes flickered to each of their shocked forms.

Anakin immediately ran out of the room while Obi-Wan stood apprehensively, looking stiff.

“You can leave now, Obi-Wan,” a small smile graced your lips at this rare image of an uncomfortable Obi-Wan.

The auburn-haired Jedi-Master shook his head vigorously before staring at you.

A laugh left your throat.

“Of course, Y/N, feel better,” he bowed his head before leaving, with the shut the door.

A few minutes later, Padme rushed in carrying a box.

“Hey, I heard from Anakin that you’re having a rough morning,” she sat beside you on your bed as you put your head in her lap and nodded.

“Aww,” she said, patting your head before lifting you up.

“I brought you some of your favorite food, some water, and some medicine for your cramps,” the Senator smiled as she handed you to box full of all the contents she mentioned.

“Padme have I ever told you that I loved you?” you said as you opened the box and began digging into your favorite dish.

Padme’s sweet laugh rang across the room.

“Multiple times, yes,” she said.

“Well I love you even more,” you said with your mouth full of food.

She smiled, rubbing circles into your hand for a moment before standing up.

“Well I have to get back to work but enjoy the care package,” she gave you a quick hug.

“Bye Padme!” you called and she waved before leaving you in darkness.

A few minutes later after you had finished your meal, the two Jedi returned, with sheepish looks on their face.

“Y/N, I’ve decided to give you the day off,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat after a moment before you burst into laughter.

“Masters I’ll be alright, the medicine Padme gave me should be kicking in soon enough so I’ll be able to spar against you, Ani,” you gave Anakin a smile which he immediately reciprocated.

“Well, that’s good news because then I was going to go against Master and you know how much of a buzzkill he is,” his lips curled up in a wicked grin as Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“Alright Y/N whenever you’re ready, please join us, but in the meantime, I will be teaching this padawan a lesson on manners,” the older Jedi grabbed his padawan’s robe and pulled him out of your room.

Oh was Anakin in for it.

[dettiot]

Someone has space roofied Obi-Wan in an attempt to get him off guard enough to kill him. Satine has to make sure he doesn't do anything super dumb while high.

"Obi-Wan!"

It took a long moment for him to reply. Much too long, given that he was holding his lightsaber and gazing down into the business end of it.

"Yes?" he asked, not looking away.

"What . . . what are you doing?"

"Thinking," he said, his voice slow and soft and languid. If the situation wasn't so utterly ridiculous and terrifying, she would shiver. Because his voice right now . . . it made something corkscrew along her spine and turned her into something much too similar to a purring tooka for her comfort.

Of course she was worried about him. He had been exposed to some kind of chemical compound, several drugs mixed with spice in an attempt on his life. Unfortunately for whomever the assassin was, the compound was not life-threatening--it simply made Obi-Wan extremely incapacitated. He hadn't required any medical treatment other than being watched while the drugs worked their way through his system.

And there was no one Satine, other than herself, that she would trust with Obi-Wan when he was in this condition.

Satine moved closer. "About what?" she asked, knowing that there was no way she could defeat jetii reflexes if Obi-Wan's thumb twitched on the activation button. But if she was closer, maybe . . .

"You know, I've told Anakin a hundred times that his lightsaber is his life," Obi-Wan said.

She couldn't help a quiet scoff. "I thought you were a peacekeeper, not a soldier."

"Perhaps you're right," he said, slowly lifting his head to lock his eyes on hers. "Perhaps I'm nothing more than a soldier. And that's why I've never been able to tell you how I feel."

Her heart dropped and it was all she could do not to take him in her arms. To tell him that she knew (did she, though? a small, sad voice asked herself silently) and he should just be quiet and get some sleep and things would be better in the morning.

Before she could figure out what to do, Obi-Wan changed the subject. "I believe you should hold this, Satine," he said, holding his lightsaber out to her.

There was a flicker of unhappiness at having to touch the weapon, but Satine knew that he was in no condition to have access to his lightsaber. So she took it and gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'll keep it safe, Obi."

"I know you will," he said, his whole face lighting up.

She didn't know what caused him to smile at her like that, but oh, she was so glad to see it. Holding the lightsaber behind her back, she gave in to an urge and reached out, gently smoothing back a troublesome lock of his hair.

He let out a soft sound that was half-sigh, half-moan, and leaned into her hand. Satine swallowed, feeling a flutter low in her belly. "Do you need anything? Some water, something to eat?" she asked, trying to keep this friendly and polite.

Somehow, he managed to shake his head without dislodging her hand. "Stay with me," he said, looking up at her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Obi-Wan," she promised. She set his lightsaber down on the small bedside table, then sat at his side on the bed, putting herself between him and the weapon.

His head dropped onto her shoulder. "I thought being high was fun. Quinlan always seems to act like it is. I just feel . . . tired."

Satine's heart went out to him. If there was anyone deserving of a night of silly fun, of simple enjoyment, it was Obi-Wan. But from the moment they met, she had realized that this man had a better-developed sense of duty than even her.

"Perhaps you should sleep," she suggested. "If you're tired."

"No," he said stubbornly. "I never get to spend time with you. Just . . . with you."

He lifted his head and held her captive with his blue-gray eyes. "I miss you. So much."

The whole point of Obi-Wan being watched was to prevent him from doing something dangerous. Something like this.

And he was high. There was only a thin rim of color in his eyes, his pupils blown wide. He felt warmer than normal and had already shucked off his jetii robes and his overtunic, leaving him in a sleeveless undershirt that proved he was all muscle.

And she loved him too much to take any advantage of him.

Gently, she stroked his hair again. "I miss you, too. Of course, I don't miss being dropped onto a nest of venom mites . . ."

As she hoped, the mere mention of the incident on Draboon made Obi-Wan sit up straight, his eyes narrowing. "You know perfectly well that I tripped! It was an accident!"

"Mmm-hmmm," Satine said, doing her best to hold back her grin. "That's what you've always claimed, yes. I just know that I had gotten the best of you, yet again, and it didn't take the Force to know you were upset."

"You are the most infuriating woman!" he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

"That I am," Satine agreed, letting her grin blossom on her face. "Just like you are the most infuriating man."

He looked at her, still annoyed, but then he smiled. "I am."

"Then, now and always, Obi," she said, feeling a giggle burst loose.

It was so nonsensical, to be laughing right now, but she was. And when Obi-Wan joined in with her, it made the moment feel perfect.

Until Obi-Wan's hand cupped the back of her head and drew her close to him.

Her breath came quicker and Satine wondered if she should allow this--if she should let him kiss her--if this was wrong--

But a split-second before their lips made contact, Obi-Wan suddenly slumped against her.

"Obi?!?" she asked, the panic washing over her even as she logically understood that he had simply passed out from the drugs.

He was breathing easily, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed. He didn't react to her touch, stroking his hair and forehead.

Gazing at him, Satine felt another laugh bubble up. This one was sad and a bit disgruntled, but at least she had managed to hold on to her sense of humor through all this.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered in Mando'a, before she stood up and arranged him more comfortably on the bed.

Taking up her position on a nearby sofa, Satine watched Obi-Wan, his chest rising and falling, his breathing soft and even.

In the morning, he would wake up with no memory of what he had done--giving her his lightsaber, nearly kissing her. She'd let him get back to his war and hope that one day, the war would be over and he could have peace.

If he couldn't have her love, she wanted him to have peace.

End.