#grey jedi reader

[kavaeroexe]

Y/N : yall, green Jedi exist?

Leia : ...

Han : ....

Luke : are you insulting master Yoda?

Yoda : insult me, not.

Y/N : i mean gree.. OH SHOOT I MEAN-

[stories-of-sathril-herrox]

Sleepy Time w/ Tech and Sathril

This won't be posted on my insta (because I know people who will judge) but it's @/becca.designs if you wanna give it a follow :)

[queenofnightdreamland]

Blue & Grey. Capítulo 44

Warnings/Advertencias: canon divergence, violencia típica del canon, mención a muertes, heridas, deshidratación, depresión, llanto, ansiedad, enojo...

Pareja: Obi-Wan Kenobi x jedi! fem!reader

Word count: 2.5 K

Simbología: ⎯ ⁘✦⁘⎯ (espacio temporal largo), ⎯ ✦ ⎯ (espacio temporal corto), "abcd..." (visión de la fuerza), "abcd..." (pensamientos), “abcd…” (pensamientos enviados a través de la fuerza), <<abcd…>> (mensajes datapad), °abcd...° (recuerdos).

Nota del Autor: ¡No los he olvidado, lo prometo! Mi inspiración ha encontrado un punto de quiebre donde tengo tantas ideas que no me decido por una de ellas para continuar con el fic. De momento les dejo este pequeño regalo de año nuevo, espero que se encuentren muy bien y les deseo excelentes días en sus vidas.

Anterior / Siguiente

Masterlist Blue & Grey

◞────────⊰·•·⊱────────◟

Luego de haberse retirado, se mantuvieron en movimiento por varios minutos. Encontraron unas salientes de rocas donde decidieron detener su retirada táctica para ocultarse tras ellas, después de haber colocado minas con sensores que detonarían poco a poco a lo largo del lugar. Aunque funcionaran presentían que continuarían subiendo demasiados enemigos para dos personas, y a pesar de que uno de ellos fuese un Jedi, el luchar sería un riesgo; porque dicho jedi estaba cansado y definitivamente aguantaría menos en el campo de batalla. Después de todo, no era ningún droide. Por otro lado, ambos comenzaban a sentir la falta de agua afectarlos. Si seguían así morirían pronto, y no por los droides, sino por deshidratación.

Un sonido que resonó fue lo que devolvió al presente y los sacó de sus respectivos pensamientos. Al voltear la mirada observaron a la distancia la columna de humo alzarse. Esa era la señal, el ejército droide estaba cerca, las minas comenzaron a detonarse con mayor rapidez por lo que ambos tomaron el último trago de agua que tenían en sus reservas y salieron lo más listos que podían para enfrentarse a sus muertes inminentes en la batalla.

No habría vuelta atrás, esta vez. Sabían sin necesidad de hacer cálculos para tener las estadísticas, que las probabilidades de salir victoriosos estaban cerca del cero.

-Fue un honor haber luchado a su lado estos años, General – escuchas a Xyón decir y casi dejas escapar una lágrima.

-El honor fue mío, Xyón… lamento que vaya a morir así.

-Será una muerte que quedará escrita en los archivos, General. Deberíamos estar orgullosos.

-Bueno, que sea una batalla que recuerden todos entonces… ¿Juntos? – preguntas antes de voltearte.

-Hasta el fin, General.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Tu sable cortaba cuando podía, pero solo eras capaz de bloquear los disparos del ejército enemigo. Eran demasiados y después de casi quince minutos luchando estabas comenzando a cansarte. En algún punto un disparo logró dar en el blanco y Xyón cayó al suelo de espaldas. Cambiaste rápidamente de posición con intención de cubrirlo con tu cuerpo sin dejar de intentar bloquear los disparos hasta que llegara el momento en que no podrías más.

Estabas agotada, demasiado cansada y la sed era insoportable, la saliva se sentía espesa en tu boca y eso sólo dejaba en claro lo mal que estabas. Querías llorar, sentías el picor en tus ojos, pero casi no estabas produciendo lágrimas, definitivamente estabas muriendo por deshidratación.

Un disparo conectó con tu hombro izquierdo y el sable resbaló de tus manos. Ahora tenías certeza de que morirías y a los pocos segundos te seguiría Xyón, una vez tu función de escudo se viese perjudicada.

Aunque de tus ojos no salían lágrimas, lloraste. Lloraste por terminar abandonando a Viorica y a tus hermanos, por no haber dejado un heredero claro; aunque le habías dicho a Viorica que en tu ausencia buscara un maestro y tomara su lugar, le dejaste tu comunicador con indicaciones de buscar a Arawn, Izan o Faolan para que continuaran su entrenamiento y la guiaran lo mejor posible hacia un futuro brillante. Pensaste en Anakin y Padmé, como los ibas a dejar, en lo que tu muerte posiblemente desencadenaría y la posibilidad de que Anakin cayera al lado oscuro antes de lo que tus visiones habían señalado.

Una pésima decisión; pero no tenían opciones. Habías tomado tus decisiones y pagarías las consecuencias, tal vez incluso, lo llegase a pagar toda la galaxia.

En medio de tus intentos de bloquear los disparos con un campo de energía generado por Fuerza pura, observaste una actitud extraña en los enemigos a lo lejos. Intentaste enfocar sin perder el control del sable en tus manos, pero estabas realmente agotada y tenías que usar toda tu fuerza de voluntad para no permitir que otro disparo de los bláster te impactara en un lugar de mayor importancia vital.

Luego de varios minutos lograste apreciar varios disparos de color celeste, además de un sable de hoja de un color azul que te hizo tambalear y como consecuencia dejar de sujetar el sable que cayó al suelo.

Los disparos no te golpeaban, todavía el pequeño escudo te protegía, en especial porque los droides habían encontrado una mejor distracción que un simple jedi con dificultades de defenderse por cuenta propia.

Al intentar dar un paso te volviste a tambalear un poco, el escudo se movió contigo, por suerte todavía evitaba que los disparos perdidos te lastimaran. Realmente querías creer que era él, pero el recuerdo de su cuerpo completamente laxo y sin reacción ante tus intentos de sanarlo estaban grabados a fuego vivo en tu mente.

No había posibilidades de que estuviese vivo, Obi-Wan Kenobi definitivamente los había dejado. Entonces ¿por qué te sentías así de tranquila? A lo mejor, en medio de tu deshidratación ya habías comenzado a alucinar.

Un espacio se abrió en el centro de la masa de droides dejando ver unos cascos con franjas naranjas y a un humano que era tremendamente similar a Obi-Wan en el medio, tenía su sable activado y avanzaba sin detenerse ni un segundo.

Sus movimientos eran fluidos, con un claro propósito y no dudaba de su siguiente paso. Su expresión era una obra de arte, estaba cargado de enojo y al mismo tiempo preocupación, pero se veía muy concentrado en la batalla.

-Obi… - susurraste con la voz quebrada y diste un par de pasos completamente temblorosos, cargados de nerviosismo e inseguridad. Ahora, con mayor razón temías que fuese la deshidratación la que te estuviese haciendo ver cosas que no eran reales.

El hombre salió del centro de enemigos y sin dudarlo apagó su sable al mismo tiempo que corría hacia ti. Se detuvo a escasos centímetros de chocar contigo y no dudó en envolverte entre sus brazos al mismo tiempo que comenzabas a llorar, dejando escapar lágrimas que pensaste no podrían salir.

-Obi… Creo que voy a saltarme las gracias – susurras y él acarició tu rostro apartando mechones de cabello del camino, estabas despeinada y cubierta de polvo y sangre seca de algunos cortes viejos.

-Lamento llegar tan tarde – respondió a lo que negaste para ocultar tu rostro en su pecho al mismo tiempo que él no dejaba de acariciar tu cabello.

Lo abrazaste con fuerza, como si tu vida dependiese de eso.

-Te extrañé, te extrañé- comenzaste a repetir como si se tratara de una letanía y su expresión fue como si le hubiesen dado vuelta a su mundo. Te apartó un poco de su pecho y te acarició el rostro apartando el cabello buscando mirarte a los ojos.

Intentaste buscar su rostro y aunque estabas tan aliviada de verlo con vida y saber que Xyón había tenido razón, su loca y pequeña esperanza se había vuelto realidad. Entonces, recordaste a tu compañero caído y tu mirada se cargó de preocupación – Xyón está herido, y mi sable…

-General – escuchaste a Cody quien le entregó algo a Obi-Wan que luego que sentiste hacer peso en tu cintura.

-Regresemos a la nave – lo escuchaste susurrarte a lo que asentiste antes de intentar dar un paso y que todo se volviera negro.

Obi-Wan observó cómo caíste, reaccionó justo a tiempo para atraparte y evitar que te golpearas contra el suelo – Y/N – llamó preocupado y al ver que no reaccionabas no tardó en cargarte entre sus brazos para comenzar a moverse hacia el trasbordador que acababa de aterrizar en la zona trasera del campo de batalla.

-Cody, te dejo a cargo de la situación aquí – ordenó Obi-Wan sin apartar la mirada de tu cuerpo.

Al acercarse al trasbordador observó a Waxer acomodando la capsula médica con Xyón en el interior.

De verdad tenía que haber recibido un disparo en un lugar muy peligroso.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

El viaje hacia la nave fue relativamente rápido, pero no lo suficiente para aplacar su ansiedad. Tus labios se notaban claramente agrietados y le preocupaba el posible estado de deshidratación en que podrías encontrarte.

Cuando el trasbordador aterrizó y las puertas se abrieron no tardó en salir del mismo. Lo primero que se encontró fue a Viorica acercarse de forma apresurada.

-Maestro Kenobi, gracias, de verdad, muchas gracias.

-No me agradezcas todavía, primero debemos llevarla al ala médica.

Ella caminó al lado de ambos hasta que entraron al ala médica y los clones la sacaron de allí junto a Kenobi.

Ahora venía la peor parte, esperar.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

El calor que te envolvía era agradable, hace mucho no sentías tanta comodidad y tampoco te sentías tan descansada. Por lo que decidiste que podías tomarte más tiempo y descansar mejor, no haría daño una vez.

Inspiraste profundamente, pero la sola acción te trajo un dolor bastante fuerte en la zona de tu pecho a lo que sólo fuiste capaz de quejarte sonoramente antes de abrir los ojos.

Volteaste la mirada y un rostro con ligero rastro de barba te devolvió la mirada. No pudiste evitar sonreír en medio de todo el cansancio y dolor, y posiblemente un poco de medicamento también. Cambiaste de posición ligeramente, para poder enfocar un poco, en ese momento sentiste la caricia sobre tu cabello y sonreíste adormilada.

-Deberías dormir un poco más, debes estar agotada.

-Uhmm… me pides que duerma cuando confirmo que estas con vida – reclamaste en un susurro

-Lo siento, pensé que el consejo te había notificado… yo… quise creer que te habían notificado.

- ¿Cuándo cambiaste con un cuerpo falso? Te dispararon frente a mí – dijiste cerrando los ojos.

-No lo cambié, era yo – entonces abriste los ojos y lo miraste sorprendida -. ¿Qué sucede?

- ¿Por qué no reaccionaste? Intenté sanarte.

-No estaba herido, pero si escuché todo. No tienes idea lo mucho que lo lamento, al inicio creí que estabas actuando, pero cuando llegaste a despedirte antes de la ceremonia… Lo lamento, estrella, lamento todo lo que sucedió.

-Lo sé, siento tu sinceridad, pero… creo que podemos hablar después ¿no crees? – susurraste a punto de quedarte dormida y él volvió a acariciarte el cabello.

Volviste a quedarte dormida, realmente estabas agotada y deshidratada.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Cuando abriste los ojos lo primero que hiciste fue voltear la mirada, estabas esperando encontrar a Obi-Wan a tu lado. Todavía tenías miedo de que fuese mentira, una ilusión muy cruel que habías generado por la deshidratación. Pero a tu lado se encontraba Bead, quien te observó atento antes de retirar la vía intravenosa de tu mano.

-General, ya está hidratada, le retiré la vía y luego podrá darse un baño.

-Gracias, ¿el General Kenobi?

-Está atendiendo unos asuntos importantes en el planeta, debemos admitir que, aunque estaban solos allá abajo lograron menguar tanto sus fuerzas que el General logró dar un golpe de gracia y completaron la misión de manera satisfactoria.

Esa confesión te hizo quedarte helada en tu lugar. Sabías que habían resistido, pero no como para disminuir en tantos números las tropas separatistas.

- ¿De verdad fuimos nosotros, Bead?

-Sí, General. No le mentiría nunca.

-Pero…

-Detestamos cada segundo de espera, fue horrible… Pero cuando el General regresó varios de nosotros pudimos evadir sus órdenes, dado que el general tenía mayor rango que Viorica… Varios bajamos a ayudar también.

-Gracias…

-General… ¿Permiso para hablar libremente?

-Siempre, Bead.

-Eso que hizo, general, espero nunca lo haga de nuevo. La próxima vez, moriremos todos juntos si es necesario – escuchas a Bead y sonreíste conmovida.

-Espero que no exista una “próxima vez”, Bead – respondes bastante segura de que no permitirías que pasara de nuevo.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

No esperabas encontrar a nadie en tu habitación, pero en el momento en que la puerta se cerró a tus espaldas sentiste cómo dos brazos te rodearon para abrazarte con toda la fuerza que fue capaz de reunir ese cuerpecito delgado que le pertenecía solamente a una persona.

Viorica.

A pesar de la sensación de felicidad que te provocó la reacción de tu padawan, no lograste contener el quejido de dolor al sentir tus costillas quejarse por la fuerza que utilizaron cuando seguían sanando. Realmente respirar te costaba un poco, todavía.

-Lo lamento maestra, perdone…

-Está bien, no pasa nada Viorica.

-Me alegro de verla despierta maestra, bueno, con vida, en realidad. Pensé que sería la última vez que la vería y me sentí devastada.

Sonreíste con dulzura y le acariciaste el cabello – Viorica, quiero que recuerdes muy bien lo que te he enseñado. Puede que tengas un lazo muy fuerte conmigo, pero eso no significa que si llego a morir debas dejarte vencer por el dolor. Somos jedi, indiferentemente de la orden de la que hablemos, y si lo vemos desde mi orden entonces con más razón debes dejar ir.

-Pero…

Negaste – Somos uno con la Fuerza, gracias a ella estamos aquí y gracias a ella vamos a seguir en su flujo eterno. Nunca moriremos realmente y nunca estarás completamente sola; pero debes dejar el apego emocional, aunque sea difícil de aceptar. Está bien que llores, pero debes dejar ir todos esos sentimientos.

- ¿No han pensado que es muy difícil? Terminas formando lazos quieras o no y dejarlos ir es igual de difícil que formarlos.

Asentiste, realmente sí la entendías, más de lo que quisieras y ahora, tenías que poner un ejemplo que ya habías roto. Suspiraste y la abrazaste con fuerza antes de verla a los ojos – Creo que no soy la más indicada para sermonearte sobre este tema – admites y ella te observa atenta –. Por esa misma razón casi te quedas sin maestra, tomé una decisión apresurada basada en mis emociones y no pensé en los demás, en ti… Sí, es difícil dejar ir, pero se torna más difícil incluso cuando no estas preparado para esa perdida, como me sucedió con mi padre, con Obi-Wan… como iba a suceder contigo y conmigo; pero, si te das tiempo para pensar y sentir el dolor un poco, la muerte no es difícil de aceptar, como logré hacer con mi padre.

Viorica analizó lo que decías y te miró atenta. Si era objetiva, tenías razón, no habías reaccionado tan impulsivamente con la muerte de tu padre, sí, estuviste dolida y todavía lograba ver el dolor en tu marca, pero lo aceptaste. En cambio, con el Maestro Kenobi… todo había salido mal.

-Estamos destinados a morir, es parte de la vida misma. Está bien llorar, está bien amar, está bien ser feliz pero no debemos dejar que nuestras emociones nos dominen, ninguna de ellas. ¿Recuerdas lo que dije de los excesos?

Al volver a escuchar tu voz levantó la mirada y ladeó la cabeza al escuchar la pregunta – ¿Qué todos son malos?

-Exactamente, el exceso de sentimientos no es sano para nadie… mucho menos para un jedi. El riesgo de caer al lado oscuro es muy grande – admites ladeando la mirada al sentir una presencia cercana y Viorica lo notó antes de asentir.

-Entiendo, bueno, creo que ahora lo comprendo un poco mejor, teóricamente hablando.

-Ahora necesitas aplicar esa teoría. Prometo mejorar como maestra, disculpa mi clara falta. Sin embargo, me alegro mucho de poder seguir enseñándote, espero continues considerándome como una buena opción para enseñarte, padawan…

-No la cambiaría nunca, maestra. No creo que haya alguien mejor.

Sonreíste cargada de amor – El honor es ser tu maestra, Viorica. Eres un padawan excelente.

Te volvió a abrazar y devolviste el abrazo.

-Ahora, padawan, me gustaría darme una ducha… Podemos conversar sobre este tema mucho tiempo más, pero después de que me sienta yo misma de nuevo.

-Claro que sí maestra. Con permiso.

[starlightsoulwriting]

Obi-Wan: what kind of Sith trickery allows you to use the force when you have a midi-chlorian count of zero?

Y/n: that's a lot of incorrect assumptions in one sentence, bestie

Obi-Wan: don't call me bestie, just answer the question.

Y/n: *presses cuffed hands together* ... Correlation and causation are in fact not the same thing, girlfriend.

[stellarbit]

Shadows of the Order

the sad batch x reader

5.5k words themes hurt and comfort

You were separated from the Batch when Order 66 was executed on Kaller. Even as a Jedi dropout you weren't safe. Left behind, you have to recover and restart in the world after the Republic. You'd hoped to never run into Clone Force 99 again, but that hope ran out one day. featuring: a b1 battle droid

You know who deserved better? The clones. You know who else? The B1 battle droids. So I stuck a clanker in here for funsies. Had a ton of fun writing this. Hope y'all enjoy a little anguish. I'll be doin a spicy one next.

You fought alongside Clone Force 99 for a long time before the Battle of Kaller. Before Order 66. After meeting the padawan, Caleb, at the rendezvous point, you’d split off from the group to assist a team of troopers on the mountain while the boys joined General Bilaba. 

The troopers you encountered recognized you from your days with the 501st. Despite your repeated efforts to clarify that you were no longer a Jedi, they seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, after dispatching a group of droids, the remaining Separatist forces were routed towards the main front, allowing your group to do the same.

As you neared the midway point down you noticed the troopers falling back. Sliding to a stop in the snow, you turned back. There were about 10 of them, all standing around one holding a holocomm of a hooded figure. Half of them looked at you in sync, fixing the grip on their guns, the rest followed a heartbeat later. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Somewhere far down the mountain you heard screaming and blaster fire at the same moment the troopers turned their guns on you. You took off away from the troopers before the first shot rang out. 

“Get the Jedi!” A lone trooper pierced through the chaos.

Quick thinking led you to drop a stun grenade, followed by another, as you sprinted onward. The explosions managed to incapacitate some of the troopers, but not enough. Switching your blaster to stun mode, you sought cover behind a nearby tree, emerging only to neutralize the nearest clones before a shot hit your right shoulder, propelling you into a desperate sprint away from them.

With escape and evasion as your only viable options, the Marauder seemed too distant to reach in time. Instead you aimed for a waterfall you spotted while landing. It was a slim chance, but your best hope for losing the troopers.

As you fled, you deliberately dug your fingers into the wound on your shoulder, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. It was a risky move, but if you had any hope of evading capture, they needed to track you. When you saw the water through the trees you wasted no time in ripping away your chest plate. As soon as you got to the crest of the waterfall you launched your chest plate over the edge.

With one glance over the cliff, you gritted your teeth, pressing into your injured shoulder, crouched, and lowered yourself over the ledge. You grabbed high over the ledge and drug your bloody hand back down over. One more look below to ensure a safe landing spot and let go. Relying on the Force to guide your descent into an alcove leading behind the cascading water. 

Once there, you swiftly shed the remaining pieces of armor, discarding them into the rushing stream as you shifted farther into the veil of the waterfall.

When you finally heard the troopers at the cliff edge, all you could do was listen, wait, and hope they fell for it.

“Looks like she tried to scale down,” one of them remarked, his voice carrying over the sound of rushing water.

“There! In the water, I see her armor!” Another trooper's voice rang out, sending a jolt of panic through you as you desperately sought cover. Their voices dropped too low to hear before you caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Confirmed, Commander Grey. The Jedi has been neutralized. Visual confirmation obtained,” a trooper reported, the cold finality of his words chilling you.

The clone trooper paused, most likely receiving transmission. “Yes sir. Alright boys, we are to rejoin Commander Grey and head out. His forces eliminated Bilaba and Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan. Gather the stunned troops and let’s move out.” That was the last thing you heard before the troopers left. 

Your heart stopped. The blood in your veins froze. You lurched for something - anything - to steady yourself on. One moment everything was normal and the next you were being gunned down by clones you risked everything for. Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.

There wasn’t enough air in the tiny alcove to think, the waterfall was too loud, the water hitting your face too cold. Desperately, you gripped the slippery rocks as your legs gave out.

Nothing made sense. Questions raced through you, each more unsettling than the last. Had all of the clones turned on the Republic? Why were they targeting Jedi specifically? Clones that served with General Bilaba for years suddenly gunned her down. 

Nothing added up. If the orders affected all clones, there was a good possibility that the Bad Batch was also following them. Despite their independent streak, they were still clones, some orders had to be followed. It was a sobering realization - one that left you feeling vulnerable and nauseous. You weren’t going to be safe until they left. If they left.

The thought of aiming a weapon on the members of Clone Force 99 cracked something inside you. Besides, it was foolish to think you had a chance against all of them. With an entire army of reinforcements, attempting to take them on would be nothing short of suicidal.

Survival became your sole focus. There was no time to dwell on what went wrong or how to escape the planet's unforgiving terrain. For now, all you could do was stay hidden, biding your time until the coast was clear.

One by one, you discarded your armor and any identifiable markers into the water. It wasn’t about shedding your identity; it was a practical decision, one you could handle. Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed from above. You pressed yourself against the rock again, your senses on high alert.

An eternity seemed to passed before the person moved. “The Jedi target was neutralized. If she’s not already dead, she’s as good as it.” It was Crosshair’s voice, cold and detached. 

There was another moment of silence before you heard Tech’s voice, “Affirmative. Blood stains indicate she attempted to scale down the cliff and subsequently fell.” His tone was as clinical as ever but you almost fooled yourself into thinking there was something else to it. “Pieces of her armor are wedged in the rocks below. Crosshair is correct, if she did not perish on impact the likelihood of her survival is negligible. We need to leave.”

They weren't out there to rescue you; they were there to confirm you were dead.

It was all too much to process. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve in your body seemed to fail, leaving you a trembling mess. When the two men finally left, you didn’t know.

“We don’t leave our own behind.” You heard Hunter’s voice and heard his lie.

They left you. You fought for them, yet they hunted you down and abandoned you.

Long after night had fallen, you mustered the strength to climb out of the alcove, your injured shoulder protesting every movement. Descending into the battlefield, you searched for a salvageable ship and supplies. Amidst the wreckage, you stumbled upon the one thing you weren’t looking for.

General Bilaba’s lightsaber. She must’ve lost it in the struggle. Such a valuable thing lost to the snow and wreckage, not even retrieved. Disposable. You held the cold metal in your hand before tucking it away.

You found one ship that might manage to get off the ground. Nearby, you spotted a partially disabled battle droid, still in remarkably good condition despite its current state. It appeared to have been incapacitated by a stun grenade. As you examined it, Tech's lessons on droid maintenance flooded your mind, particularly the techniques for reprogramming them for combat purposes.

Kneeling beside the droid you flipped it onto its back to access programming. You’d pulled it off before, reprogramming battle droids to counter attack. You just never thought you’d need the skills like this.

The process was far from seamless. You electrocuted yourself on the power supply, nearly damaged a circuit board while removing the restraining bolt, and the rewiring process dragged on longer than expected, especially under the cover of darkness.

Eventually, the battle droid sprung to life, clutching its head as it sat up. You lowered yourself onto one knee as the droid adjusted itself. "Where am I?" its questioning began, its metallic voice filled with confusion. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

Hearing the droid address you instead of immediately engaging in combat felt oddly surreal, but given the day's events, it was perhaps the least strange thing. "What is your primary directive?" you asked, trying to gauge its functionality.

It clunked a hand against its head. "Huh, that's odd. I don't seem to have one."

That was a start. 

You rose to your feet and offered your hand. "In that case, how about we team up and find a way off this rock?"

Its head swiveled from side to side as it processed the proposal. "You mean, I get to choose?"

You let out a small scoff and maintained your outstretched hand. "Your options are coming with me or staying here to rust."

"Fair point," the droid responded, almost cheerfully, as it reached for your hand. "So, what's the plan for getting off this dump?"

You gestured toward the ship you hoped  to salvage. "Can you handle starship repairs?"

“Sure thing, boss. Want me to clean it up?”

You threw it a puzzled look, “Why would I-” You shook your head, “No, we need to repair it enough to get it off this planet.

“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” The B1 unit pointed at the ship. “That ship doesn’t need repairs, we just crashed it.”

Maybe picking a battle droid for an assistant wasn’t the best choice. “Was it your group that crashed it?”

“Yep!” It said too proudly. “Happens all the time. But I told you, this one doesn’t need repairs to fly.” The droid paused for a second, tapping a metal digit to the tip of its face, then added. “Yet.”

That didn’t bode well for survival. You waved for it to follow you, “Let’s see if you’re right.” Over your shoulder you asked. “What can I call you?”

“My identifier is OOM-672.”

Walking amongst dozens of disabled B1 units you mused, “Looks like you’re about to be one of the last OOM models in the galaxy. So why don’t we cut that down to O2?”

“Wow!” The way it vocalized almost added syllables to the word. “Yeah, O2 sounds much better! What do I call you? Master?”

You cringed at the sound of that. “I’m not your master, O2. We’re going to have to settle with being friends or buddies.”

“You got it, Buddy!”

Thankfully, O2 was right. The ship could fly and it had enough fuel to get you far from Kaller. Enough to get you all the way to the Outer Rim if you wanted. It was risky, but following the pattern of the day, it was your only chance at survival. You just didn’t let O2 pilot.

*

After the rise of the Galactic Empire, you and O2 settled on a planet in the Mid Rim. You scavenged and sold enough equipment from Kaller for a comfortable amount of credits to start off with. You pieced together a new identity, often concealing your face beneath a helmet and relying on a voice modulator. Being dead in the eyes of the Empire had its advantages.

The best way to stay hidden, you figured, was to stay in plain sight.

You wormed your way into ownership of a small inn. Although, your background as a Jedi and a soldier left you ill-prepared for running a business, and you struggled to turn a profit.

“O2!” You shouted from the lobby.

The battle droid sauntered in from the dining area. “Yes, Buddy?” The droid’s nickname for you always worked a smile out of you.

You tossed them a rusted-out metal part, which they scrambled to catch, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. After a few failed attempts, they finally managed to grasp it securely. “The circulator for our boiler is busted. Can you head to the market and fetch a replacement? The parts dealer should have one available.”

“Roger, roger!” O2 chimed enthusiastically, ready to depart.

You yanked them by the shoulder. “O2,” You warned. “Do you remember how to pay?”

They rolled their head in an exaggerated display of weariness. “I know, I know - ‘charge it to the tab.’”

Raising an eyebrow, you waited for more. “And?”

O2 tapped a compartment on their chest, revealing a few credits inside. A result of some previous tinkering done by you. “And I have the extra credits.”

“And what’re they for?” You pressed.

“For ‘just in case.’” They replied

Stepping forward, you pushed the compartment closed. “In case of trouble, O2,” you reminded them firmly. Giving them a light knock with the back of your knuckles, you added, “Give me a call if you find yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster.”

As far as O2 was concerned, they had it easy. You rescued them from decommissioning and in return, all you asked for were simple tasks and the opportunity to tinker with their hardware. The tinkering, more often than not, turned out for the better - at least most of the time.

When you and O2 first arrived, the presence of a battle droid initially unnerved the townsfolk. However, they grew accustomed to O2's quirky demeanor. O2 was more goofy than intimidating almost by design. Plus, after a few instances of O2 causing trouble with the neighbors, they quickly learned to keep their hands off the droid. Often with a not so subtle reminder of a vibroblade at their throats.

O2 ambled through the town, exchanging waves with the occasional vendor. Stalls and shops lined the narrow, winding streets, colorful canopies providing shelter from the sun for the patrons below. Amidst the hustle and bustle, droids weaved through the crowds, delivering goods and providing services to customers. 

As O2 approached the parts dealer, raised voices caught their attention. Nearby, at a fruit stand, a vendor held a pear just out of reach of a young girl. "That's not fair!" the girl protested, reaching for the fruit. "I already paid you!"

Deviating from their path, O2 made their way toward the girl. She appeared to be a young human with light hair, a visitor to the town. 

"Hey, stop that!" O2 called out in their attempt at an authoritative tone. They reached the girl and bent slightly to address her. "Are you in trouble, young human?"

The girl turned to O2, visibly puzzled. After a moment of assessing the situation, she nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she replied, more confidently this time. "Yes. He's taking my money but insisting I still owe him more." She pointed a finger accusingly at the vendor.

O2 looked between the vendor and the little girl several times. When they finally grasped the situation, they exclaimed, “Ohh! You’re in trouble and need more credits. That’s perfect!” They poked open the compartment on their chest, revealing the credits.

The girl shook her head in disbelief. "N-no, I've already paid," she insisted, casting a disdainful glance at the vendor. "He's just trying to cheat me."

Raising a finger in a gesture of understanding, O2 interjected, "You're in trouble and these credits are for 'in case of trouble.'" They plucked out a few credits and pivoted at the hip to offer them to the vendor.

From behind the booth, the vendor's expression shifted to one of quiet annoyance, yet he begrudgingly began packing a bag with pears. "There's no trouble, O2," he retorted curtly, dropping the bag into the girl's arms. "Now, move along, kid."

The girl frowned at the man but did turn away. She looked up at O2 with a smile. “Thanks,” She pulled a curious face and stepped back from the droid for a better look. “You’re a B1 battle droid. What are you doing here?”

“I’m purchasing a new part.” O2 held up the broken circulator as proof.

She held back a smile. “No, no. I meant, weren’t all battle droids supposed to be decommissioned.” She gestured around her, “So what are you doing out here alone?”

O2 didn’t have time to respond when a man yelled, “Omega! Get away from that thing!” A male with a face tattoo shoved through the crowd and slammed the battle droid in the chest with the hilt of a blade. 

“Whoa!” O2 yelled, stumbling backward into the fruit stand.

The little girl squeezed between O2 and the man.  “Don’t hurt them, Hunter!” She threw her arms out to shield O2. “They were just helping !” Three other men arrived behind Hunter while O2 righted themself.

One of the men, with a socket for a hand, pushed to the front of the group and pointed his prosthetic at the droid. “Omega, you don’t know what that clanker is capable of.” 

“Hey!” O2 whined in protest and shook a fist at him. “You can’t call me that!”

“Says who?” Growled the largest man of the group.

“Says my buddy!” O2 started reaching for its head to send out a comm when the fruit vendor grabbed his hand.

“O2!” He laughed nervously and patted the droid harshly, “There’s no trouble.” The vendor pointed a finger at the men. “I’m not dealing with their friend today, so move out.”

“Friend?” The big guy repeated incredulously.

The cyborg hovered his hand over the blaster at his hip. “Where’s your master, droid?”

O2 thrusted their head in a sassy manner, “I don’t have a master.”

Hunter moved Omega to the side and put his knife just below O2’s head. “Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours?”

“That depends.” O2 said skeptically. “Are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter passed a look to the men behind him. “An inn?”

“Only customers can come to the inn. So - are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter lowered the knife and jerked his head to say ‘get going’, “Sure thing. Now, let’s go.”

“Roger, roger.” The droid said with a little salute and then tapped his fingers to the tip of his face. “Say, do I know you guys?

“Move it, clanker.” The cyborg ordered again.

Back at the inn, you waited in the lobby reading through bank statements. The front door was open to the street, allowing you to hear O2’s distinctive footsteps approaching. You pushed away from and around the desk to greet them. “That may have been your fastest run yet. How much - oh!” You stopped mid sentence when a young girl trailed in behind the droid. Behind your headgear you smiled, “Did you make a friend?”

The little blonde waved up at you, “Hello.”

A dent in O2’s chest plate caught your eye. You motioned for the droid. “O2, what did you do to your chest plate?” 

“Well, I didn’t do it.” The droid sassed, but moved forward and leaned down for you to inspect. You reached up, held their head, and moved it side to side for inspection. Other than the dent they were fine. You patted their face in relief when, from the corner of your eye four figures filed in.

You went stock-still at the sound of a familiar voice, Hunter’s voice. “You own this clanker?”

This was it. This was the day you died. 

Giving O2 one last pat, you turned to face the Bad Batch standing in your doorway, as formidable as ever. Hunter led the group, with Echo on his left, Tech on his right, and Wrecker flanking Echo. Crosshair was conspicuously absent. Their mismatched armor was newly painted in vibrant colors. 

Silently assessing them, you took a moment to compose yourself, shoving your fear and anger as deep as you could. Their demeanor said they didn't recognize you and you needed them gone before they did.

"Sure," you replied vaguely, your voice muffled by the voice modulator. Keeping your gaze fixed on the clones, you instructed O2, "O2, grab my satchels from the back." Without hesitation, the droid complied.

"What are you doing with a separatist battle droid?" Echo's voice bristled as he stepped forward. "Do you realize how dangerous that thing is?"

Images of Echo tending to your wounds flooded in, abruptly interrupted by the recollection of red blaster shots narrowly missing your head.

"OOM-672 has been reprogrammed," you replied, waving your hand dismissively. "They no longer pose a threat and wartime objectives have been nullified."

"Incorrect," Tech said as he tapped the side of his helmet to move his visor. "If the droid's reprogramming is faulty, it could revert to its original directives at any moment. Depending on the data stored in its memory, that could prove dangerous should it fall into the wrong hands." He advanced toward O2, pointing a finger. "Allow me to examine it—"

“Their programming is fine.” You instinctively took a step back, bumping into O2 with the bags you requested. One had spare credits for bribing them out of your parlor and, in case that didn’t work, the other contained a blaster and Bilaba’s lightsaber.

As you sorted through the first bag for credits, you spat, “No one lays a hand on the droid except me. Especially not a bunch of clones." With a flick of your wrist, you tossed a handful of credits at Hunter. "Now get out of my lobby.” You made the mistake of addressing them as clones and hoped the odd comment passed over them. They obviously didn’t look like other clones to the untrained eye.

"Oh!" O2's voice chimed in recognition, but you swiftly raised a hand to silence the droid.

“Do we look like we work for the Empire?” Wrecker asked, almost growled, with hands on Omega’s shoulders. 

Hunter glanced at the credits before tossing them back. “Just let us look at the droid,” he urged.

Without missing a beat you caught the credits, brandished the blaster, and aimed it at the leader. Immediately, the other brothers aimed their blasters at you. "Got a malfunction in those helmets?" You gestured toward the exit with your weapon. "I said leave. No stranger gets their hands on my droid."

“Strangers?” O2 stepped to your side and pointed at the group of clones. “They’re not strangers. We know them.”

Your blaster dipped for a moment, frustration nipping at you before you firmed up your grip. “O2, knowing someone for five minutes doesn’t mean you know them.”

“Just calm down.” Hunter said slowly.

“Five minutes?” The battle droid shook their head in confusion. “We go waaay back.” They hummed a thoughtful sound. “Although they did stun me on Kaller.” A chill gripped your spine at the mention of Kaller.

"Kaller?" Omega's gaze flitted between the men around her. "Where's that?" The rustle of shifting armor filled the lobby as the four men exchanged glances, their blasters trained still on you.

“Who are you and how did you get that droid?” Echo's voice carried a forceful edge as he pushed you.

“Get out.” You repeated with more venom. “Clones follow orders. That’s an order.”

Hunter slowly raised his hands, removing his helmet and revealing his tattooed face. The sight of him made it hard to breathe through.

"We're not with the Empire," Hunter declared. "And we're not big on following orders, either."

"Liar!" Your scream reverberated through the room, the voice modulator straining against your volume. Something flickered in Hunter's expression.

For someone with no skin in the war, you were proving to be  awfully reactive.

"Hunter," Tech intervened firmly, prompting you to swing your blaster in his direction. "Look at that blaster." You glanced down at your weapon, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“What about it, Tech?” Hunter asked.

“That blaster has nonstandard modifications. Only five like it exist.” Tech explained, his tone serious.

“Not the time to be admiring blasters.” Echo snapped.

“The issue is,” Tech shot an annoyed look at his brother. “They are my modifications.” His grip relaxed slightly. “We have four of them and the other was - ”

You fired a shot at Tech before he could finish and attempted to fire another when Hunter lunged at you. He knocked the blaster from your hand and swung for your head. Wrecker shoved the kid behind him while you and Hunter exchanged blows, his hitting much harder than you remembered. 

You saw Tech activating a stun grenade as O2 reached for your blaster. Yanking a vibroblade from your hip, you rammed the hilt of it into the side of Hunter’s head, causing him to stumble back. Swiftly, you lurched in the way of the stun grenade, intercepted it, and threw as far as you could behind you.

Echo took no time in disarming and disabling O2 while Hunter regained his senses and grabbed for you. His touch was a breath away when you thrust out your hands and blew him back with the Force. Before Hunter could register what happened, Wrecker grabbed you by the neck, and yanked you from the ground.

You clawed at his hand but couldn’t stop the giant crushing your windpipe and ripping off your headgear. 

Seeing your bare face, livid and unable to breathe, shook Wrecker and gave you the chance to slam your feet into his stomach. He dropped you to the ground where you writhed and gasped for air. Your dropped blaster was nowhere in sight, but the other satchel was.

Still retching for air, you threw a hand out and the lightsaber flew to you. Green light blasted out of the hilt, parallel to the ground and putting a thrumming barrier between you and the clones.

“A Jedi?” Omega said in wonder, poking her head around Wrecker. Wrecker, notably, didn’t push her back behind him.

They all lowered their weapons and Tech, Echo, and Wrecker removed their helmets. Different shades of shock on all of them. “Sarad?” Tech spoke softly.

“Stay away from me.” You growled from the ground. Slowly, you repositioned yourself, strengthening your stance to pounce or run.

“We thought you were-”

“Dead?” You cut Wrecker off and cut a look at Tech. “Guess you aren’t as thorough as you think.” At that, Tech’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“We didn’t follow that order.” Hunter interjected.

“Liar!” You lashed out. “I heard the troopers. ‘Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.’”

Hunter started lowering himself to your eye level. “We let him escape.”

Echo stepped forward, his eyes avoiding yours. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. “We thought the other troopers got to you, but we came looking for you as soon as we could.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, in your eyes the only thing they deserved were holes through their chests.

Out of all of them, Tech stood the straightest, his demeanor showing no sign of shame in their handling of the situation. Still, he thought carefully on how to say what he needed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed it.

When he locked eyes with you, it was clear he’d considered his words meticulously, repeating the process in his mind multiple times before coming to the same conclusion

“With your blood and broken armor, there were two plausible outcomes,” he began, counting them out with his fingers. “First, that you perished either by the troopers or the falls. The second, that you…” His gaze momentarily shifted away, seeing your armor in the rocks. “... that you escaped.” Returning his gaze to yours, he continued, “In both scenarios, our intervention would have only made things worse. And Crosshair-”

You jumped to your feet in a challenge, Hunter quickly positioning himself between you and the others. “I don’t believe you,” you hissed, swinging the saber to the side before snapping it back in front of you. “So finish what you started.”

Hunter maintained his steady gaze as his brothers holstered their blasters. “We won’t fight you,” he assured, his tone resolute. Your eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of aggression. Seconds stretched on but the men held their ground.

“He’s telling the truth,” Omega whispered, joining Hunter at his side. "All clones were programmed to follow that order." She cast a meaningful glance at the men surrounding her. "But their altered states made them immune to the order."

For months, anger had been your constant companion, fueling you through each passing rotation. Anger at the Jedi Purge, at the failures of the Republic, and most of all, the seething rage at the Bad Batch for leaving you behind to bear the weight of it all alone. Months of grief and pain don’t just disappear.

The room seemed to warp and blur around you, your grip on the saber beginning to falter. Clinging to it tightly, you gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain your composure. The world snapped back into focus when tears finally breached your resolve, slipping down your cheeks unchecked.

“Then….” your arm dipped before falling limply at your side. “You left me for dead.” Your voice cracked and the words came out in a sob. “You left me behind.”

You thought the pain of them hunting you was the worst thing you could experience. The realization of abandonment was worse. A tight knot formed in your stomach, threatening to make you sick.

Driven by months of simmering anger, you shook your head through your tears. , “I survived without you, and I’ll keep surviving without you.” You let the green light of the saber fade. “So just leave.” The last words came out less like the command you wanted it to be and more like plea.

Wrecker ‘s eyes went wide, “You think after all this time,” he gestured toward you, “when we just got you back, we’d just leave?” A defiant look passed over him. “Sorry, not happening.”

“Sarad,” Tech spoke like it was just the two of you. YoYou closed your eyes briefly, savoring the familiarity of his tone. For a moment, you thought they might all disappear, as if they were never there. “Leaving you was a choice we never wanted to make. But it was the choice that led us here and ensured your survival. Keeping you alive was more important than keeping you by our sides.” He nodded, standing firm in his choices. “Your survival was the only acceptable outcome.”

The lightsaber grew heavy in your hand.

Wrecker reached out with a pleading gesture. "The regs would've— we couldn't..." He faltered, searching for the right words, but Omega touched his forearm and urged him forward.

Wrecker stepped through his brothers and although you flinched like you might run he reached out and touched your face. First with one hand and then a second when you tried to turn away. Holding you like that, seeing you safe in his hands, made it hard for Wrecker to ever imagine letting go.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks, falling over his hands. Wrecker swept them away with his thumbs before pulling you into his arms. "Sorry, Sarad. We're sorry."

Your hands hovered on either side of you, it was the first time you’d truly touched another organic lifeform since Kaller. The lightsaber hit the ground and you fell into Wrecker.

You’d let yourself feel angry at them all those months alone, but, in an instant, it was overshadowed by the grief of having been without them. 

Pulling just out of Wrecker’s embrace you rubbed away the remaining tears. “I’ve missed you.”

“We missed you too.” Echo answered for the group.

Looking between them all, you felt like the world was a little safer. There were a few things standing out to you though. First being the little girl with them and Crosshair’s absence.

Immediately reading you, Hunter touched Omega’s shoulder. “A lot has changed.”

"I can see that," the girl smiled warmly at you, her expression oddly familiar despite never having met before.

Tech breezed past you, heading straight for O2. He knelt beside the droid, adjusting his goggles before turning to you. "So, you really salvaged this droid from Kaller?" You affirmed with a nod, prompting a look of mild disturbance from Tech. "And it's proven to be useful?" Another nod from you. "Well, that's just as surprising as your survival," he remarked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Be kind to O2," you interjected, joining Tech by O2's side to rouse the droid. "They're my friend."

Echo scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "That's... going to take some getting used to."

Omega joined you and Tech, her eyes wide with fascination as Tech began to point out various features of the battle droid. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the interaction unfold. The inn you had purchased never truly felt like home, much like Coruscant and the Jedi Order before it.

But here, amidst the Bad Batch, you finally felt a sense of belonging. You were home.

[dameronology]

when it rains (obi-wan x reader)

summary: being in love with obi-wan is great - but it might be less difficult if he knew about it. (commission for @ofmusesandsecrets!)

warnings: language

You were generally quite good at keeping your shit together.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been a threat to that.

On the surface, you were everything a Senator could need to be; an intelligent and well-spoken individual, with a high level of education and a passion for change. You always stood up for what you believed in; always spoke up on issues you were passionate about and always fighting the good fight. These were all things that Obi-Wan had loved about you, and in what felt like the galaxy's cruellest Catch 22, it was that love that threatened your ability to upkeep appearances. One glance at him across the Senate, or a brief moment of eye contact at one of the Galas - more often than not where he was your bodyguard - and you were worried it would all come tumbling down.

You had met Kenobi a few years after he'd become a Jedi Master. You were early on in your career as a politician, working as an apprentice to a higher-level representative. Always on the go, with stacks of paperwork in your arms and a million thoughts brewing in your mind, you'd crossed paths with Obi-Wan one morning during a meeting in the Temple. He'd given you a smile, made a quip about how he'd never seen you not on the go (which confirmed to you that he had seen you before and had stared long enough to notice those details about you).

Five years later, you hadn't been able to look at anyone else.

He was your best friend now, undoubtedly and wholly. You saw each other every day at the least - maybe in meetings and occasionally in passing - but he would come to your apartment every night without fail. Mostly just to catch up, and sometimes just to vent. Even on the days where Anakin had driven him to the point of grey hair, you were still happy to listen.

It was raining tonight in Coruscant. A lot. Lashing down from the sky, putting most of the city to a halt. Your afternoon meeting had been cancelled as a result, which meant you'd been holed up in your apartment all afternoon, a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of paperwork in the other. Obi-Wan's first ever comment to you had always rung true; you were always on the go, even when you were sat still. There was always something on your mind - something to create, something to do, something to debate. Sometimes, it made Obi-Wan want to grab your shoulders, give you a little shake and tell you to slow the fuck down.

He turned up just after 8PM - drenched, as expected, and with a slightly wet coffee cup in hand. In your line of work, you could afford a slow afternoon. For Obi-Wan, your busiest day of work was comparable to one he'd find relaxing. You had no doubt that he'd not long wrapped up for the night, so you wasted no time in stepping aside and letting him into your apartment.

"Long day?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

Obi-Wan glared at you. "Long day. Wet day."

"Right, sorry," you snorted. Taking the coffee cup out his hands, you tossed it into the garbage and headed towards your kitchen. "C'mon, I'll make you a drink that's not half rainwater."

"Thank you, darling," he gave you a small smile, hot on your tail as he followed you through the apartment. "I heard the Senate meeting was called early this afternoon."

"Yeah," you replied. "At like 2PM. Half the people due to come couldn't make it due to the weather. It took me two hours to get home."

"You should have come and found me at the Temple," Obi-Wan said. "You know my room is always available."

You knew. You'd always known, even on the nights when Obi-Wan was present there too. How many times had you stayed over after a long night? Snuck back there after a Gala? Just to sleep three feet apart, both your minds working at a thousand miles an hour, purely to resist the urge to reach out towards him and curl up into his side. The idea of domesticity with Obi-Wan was almost enough to kill you, just as it was right now. Here he was, leant against your kitchen counter. He was throwing his wet cloak into your tumble drier, hands reaching for a tea towel on the side. He was acting like he lived here, like he paid half the rent and maker, you wished he would. You wished that he would come back here every night and just fucking stay. With you, here, forever. No outside world; no politics; no stupid Jedi laws.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

You blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Your mind - it went somewhere," Obi-Wan continued. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh...just work," you forced a smile. "You know how it is."

"I turn off when I'm done," he replied, hand brushing down your arm. "You never really stop, do you?"

I stop thinking about work, you thought to yourself, but I never stop thinking about you.

"No, I will," you murmured. "Sorry."

"Never be sorry," Obi-Wan said.

You snapped back into action, hands quickly chucking ingredients into a mug in order to produce an acceptable cup of coffee. You knew Obi-Wan's routine with his fancy-ass drip filter and organic beans and locally sourced milk. It was a few levels above the instant coffee you were about to press into his hands, but your actions were still met with a smile.

"How are you going to get back to the Temple later?" you asked. "The storm has half the city at a standstill and I beg you not to say that you're walking."

He smiled. "I realised as soon as I got to your building that I may be trapped for the night."

"Right," you replied, fighting back your own smile. "That's sort of the point I was getting to anyways."

Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he felt it too. If his eyes lingered on yours when you turned away, if you were constantly on his mind every moment that you were apart. Of course, it was different for him; after all, the job he'd dedicated his very life to forbade attachment in any form and this? Well, this was the highest form.

"I have some of my brothers clothes in the hallway closet," you broke the silence. "You're welcome to steal some."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, darling."

It wasn't really a question between you about where he would be sleeping. You only had one bed and you'd already shared before, so what was the point in overcomplicating it? Well...overcomplicating it even more. Nothing about this was simple, and sharing a bed was not the distance you needed for the situation, but what did you care anymore? You yearned to be around the man all the time, even if it meant doing this weird to-and-fro that you'd had going on for half a decade. Him being in your bed just for tonight was fine. You were both tired. You both needed it.

Obi-Wan picked up his mug, giving your arm another squeeze.

"I'm going to go and shower," he said. "Thank you letting me stay."

You smiled and nodded. "Always."

Putting aside your own half empty coffee, you threw it into the sink - that would be tomorrow's problem, as would all of this - and went through to the bedroom. You could hear the shower running, and your mind again went off to that all too familiar place: home. Not here, but wherever Obi-Wan was. What you wouldn't have given to had this every night; you getting ready for bed, him in the shower, both of you planning to end up in the same bed. It wasn't possible. You knew it wasn't possible, as long as he were still a Jedi and as long as you were still a Senator. Hell, you would have thrown your position aside in seconds if it meant being with him. Maybe that was the difference between the two of you.

Changing into a baggy shirt and sweatpants, you threw aside the covers and climbed into bed. The sheets were cold, as they always were when you first went to bed, but knowing someone else was minutes away from warming them up sent butterflies to your stomach. Maybe not butterflies, so much as they were wasps. Big, anxious wasps, at the idea of being in such close proximity with your best friend. What if this was the night that three foot meant fuck all? Maybe you could actually have his arms around; keep him closer for longer, not just a brief hug or a quick touch. This could be it now.

You heard the water shut off and there was a brief shuffling. A few moments later, Obi-Wan exited the bathroom. He'd opted for sweatpants too, but no shirt. Your instincts said to look away, but you couldn't. Hell, you didn't even care that you looked like a creep, watching him as he crossed the room. Obi-Wan barely even noticed, simply placing his boots by the door and climbing into bed beside you. You could feel the heat off his body beside you, arms just inches from touching.

"Was the shower okay?" you asked, eager to break the silence that had once again formed. "I've been having problems with...with my hot water."

"Why are you nervous?"

You blinked. "I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are," Obi-Wan replied. "You always ramble when you're nervous, and I've never heard you talk about something as boring as how well your shower is working."

"Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

"That still doesn't answer my question," he pushed. "Why are you nervous? It's me, sweetheart."

"Maybe that's exactly why I'm nervous," you muttered. "I'm not sure. I just...it's weird that you're shirtless in my bed."

"Oh," he seemed surprise. "That's okay. I can sleep on the sofa-"

"- no, no, it's fine," you quickly cut him off. "I just never really know what to do these situations, to be honest. When we've slept together before, I've always tried my best to stay on the other side of the bed but...I'm not so sure I want to do that tonight."

Obi-Wan stared blankly ahead for a moment. Okay, so that had been risky as fuck, and for a moment you felt yourself reeling, waiting for his reaction. To your surprise, there wasn't really one. Even when it was the most forward you'd been - without really being forward at all - he still stayed stoic as always. There was no visible response, just a quick blink and a small shrug.

"We're both cold from the rain," he reasoned. "It makes sense. I see no reason why we have to stay on opposite sides of the bed."

Much to your surprise, he was the one to move first. He shuffled onto his side, a large arm coming around your waist and the other snaking underneath you. He pulled you into him, hand guiding your head into his neck and tucking it below his chin. You were stiff for a second, but quickly relaxed - this felt right. Like it was meant to be.

You could faintly smell the remains of his aftershave, mixed with the smell of your shower gel. His skin was still warm from the shower.

(And maybe it was).

"Are you warmer now?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Toasty."

He smiled. "Good - now get some sleep."

You knew the morning would come, and that Obi-Wan would have to leave; you knew even more that this might not happen again. Not unless luck was on your side and would happen to lump you together during a storm, or a black out. Or - and the more terrifying option - that you declared your love for him and this would be how every night was.

It was hard to know; hard to tell and predict, just like everything else in the galaxy. Still, you were grateful that Obi-Wan was your best friend, and even more grateful that you had tonight.

[momojedi]

— as beautiful as the day i lost you pairing. echo x gn! jedi reader

**

type. oneshot, fluff note. watched the bad batch arc with my dad and he came to appreciate echo as much as I do so I wanted to write a lil about him &lt;3 warnings. really fluffy, mentions of order 66 taglist. @patapouille (open for more)

star wars masterlist

“Don’t shoot!” The clone stands still and carefully holds up his hands, dropping the blaster gun as a peace offering. “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.” He motions his two companions to follow his lead and lower their weapons.

I hesitate. After the past couple weeks of running from the Empire and having friends turn to foes amidst battle when Order 66 was declared, I’ve lost all ability to trust anyone, especially clone troopers. The warm and friendly gaze replaced by that sudden hatred in their eyes is still a vivid memory on my mind, ever since that fateful day.

But if this really isn’t some evil scheme led by an imperial commander and if that trooper really is telling the truth then perhaps finally letting my guard down might not be as bad of an idea as it seems. After all, I feel no evil sensation, no malice in the force but rather … a familiar one.

I frown. Despite being like no troopers I have ever met before with their dark armour and their unique looks, something about them felt warm and inviting, like coming home from a hard mission back into the arms of a loved one.

I shake my head and lower the lightsaber I’ve been gripping so tightly, my knuckles now slowly turning white. “Who are you?”

The trooper - their leader I suspect - takes a hold of his helmet and pulls it off in a swift motion, dark hair falling over his shoulders. His face is halfway covered in a tattoo and he looks at me in a calm yet strict demeanour. “The name’s Hunter. We,” he gestures towards the two other men, one impossibly huge towering over the other two with a skull on his helmet and the other slender with grey armour, a pair of piercing eyes glaring at me through the goggles of his helmet, “are the Bad Batch.”

The Bad Batch, eh? I narrow my eyes thoughtfully as I dimly remember Captain Rex mentioning them before when Master Skywalker stopped at the Jedi Temple for a debriefing and updates on the current war situation. My face darkens as the clone captain of the 501st crosses my mind. Had he executed Order 66 as well? Was Master Skywalker even … still alive?

The ghost of a smile lingers on my lips as the chaotic battalion comes to my mind. I had worked with them more than once in the past, mostly involving their ARC trooper duo Fives and Echo, the latter of whom I’d developed very close relationship with, dare I say romantic even. Despite being forbidden and likely resulting in my banishment and his execution if it would’ve ever come to light, we grew incredibly fond of each other, stealing kisses and loving glances whenever we had the chance to. However, after Echo’s death in the Citadel, I refused to work with the 501st any longer when the mere memories of him proved to be too painful for me to handle properly.

I shake my head, no, this isn’t the time to mourn. “Tech, tell them it’s safe too come out.” Hunter’s voice catches my attention as the grey clone nods and walks to the back of the cantina, presumably to comm whoever else they are hiding. Then, Hunter turns back to me, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s your name, anyway?” I eye him for a second before introducing myself. “How come you’re not killing me? Isn’t that kind of what all clones do now?” Hunter winces at that. “We got our chips removed recently so… don’t worry, we shouldn’t be a threat to you.”

“Hunter! Is everything okay?” A small voice squeals, catching me off guard as I turn to its source. Through the back doors of the cantina, a small girl runs towards him, barely noticing me. I raise a brow at that before glancing at the other person trailing behind her. Like the other three men in the room, the person - who I assume to be another clone - is covered in dark armour, a white ‘99’ imprinted on the plate of his helmet. One of his arms is replaced by a scomp, likely proving useful to slice into things.

When the clone takes notice of me, he freezes. I hum quietly, remembering one of my Jedi contacts’ words shortly after the Purge was declared; maybe he’s scared the Jedi might take revenge on him?

Unsure on how I should put him at ease, I smile slightly and clip the hilt of my saber to my belt before raising my hands. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” I hold back a slight scoff at those words. ‘After all it should be us who should be scared of you,’ I think.

The clone still doesn’t budge, seemingly staring at me from under his helmet before finally raising his arms to push it off his head and revealing —

I’d recognise that familiar tingle in the force among millions. For a second, the world seems to stop as Echo’s warm eyes meet mine. It’s only the noisy clattering of his helmet meeting the ground that rips me out of my trance and I immediately feel my eyes well up with tears.

“Echo?” I croak, almost in a whisper. Despite my internal struggle, my body refuses to move. But I don’t have to because before I know it, Echo has already rushed over to me and scooped me into a tight hug. Suddenly, I feel the tears spilling as I bury my face in his chest plate, gripping him desperately as if he’d disappear any second if I were to let him go. “I - I thought you were — ” My words are interrupted by a broken sob.

Gently shushing me, Echo pulls away before cradling my face in both his hand and the tip of his scomp. “It’s okay, everything’s okay, mesh’la.” His voice is steady but I can’t help but notice the light tremble in his words as he pulls my forehead against his. Unable to properly use my words right now, I just nod quickly.

“Look at you,” he mumbles breathlessly, a small chuckle laced with disbelief escaping him, “you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

Without a second thought I pull him into a deep kiss which he happily indulges in, knowing fully well that I won’t ever let him go again.

[vibrantbirdy]

You are so incredibly talented! I love reading all of your works! : )

Could I request a Cal Kestis x female reader (or OC, no preference really). I’ve been super into the game recently and just love his character. Maybe a really strong female character, but she gets flustered by Cal’s confidence, and how much she has grown to like him more than friends. I totally see him being a complete flirt (but still sweet). Haha. I’ve always had this idea that it would be cool for a force user to show someone what it’s like by holding their hand and pulling something to them (like aiding them in using the force). Stupid maybe I don’t know lol, basically Cal being suave and laying it on thick. Fluff, crack, little spice, I’m here for whatever creative piece you get going ❤️

Firstly, thank you for your lovely words! Secondly, yay, Cal! Thank you, I'm glad someone's asked for Cal, this is a cute prompt.

Character x Reader requests are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Masterlist of my fics can be found here.

Title: Proximity Fandom: Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor Games Setting: Prior to events of Jedi Survivor Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Fluff - This is tooth-rotting fluff with a little added spice as requested ;) Warnings: This fic is 18+ so please heed and respect the adult rating. Descriptions of sexual longing/arousal; one scene of strong consensual sex - nothing too descriptive but probably on the borderline of (hopefully still sweet) mild smut. Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 5.5k (Because I have no self control) Summary: You are an accomplished Coruscanti thief who has been recruited by the Rebel Jedi, Cal Kestis. As you join him and his crew on their adventures aboard the Mantis, you and Cal have to navigate your growing feelings for each other.

You are standing in some Imperial-worshipping Senator's private vault in a bank nestled deep in the heart of Coruscant's palatial financial district. You've just located your prize - a data stick containing the names of high standing political and military figures within the Empire who have Republic, perhaps even Rebel leaning sympathies.

It's the Senator's insurance policy, his get out of jail free card - something he can produce at the eleventh hour in case his unwavering loyalty to the Empire turns out not to be enough to save him from the pull and push of the Imperial tide of oppression swelling across the Galaxy.

You'll sell the data stick to one Rebel faction or another, whoever is willing to pay most for your service in getting information out of Imperial hands and aiding the Rebel's recruitment drive in the process.

You're in the middle of internally congratulating yourself on successfully extracting the data stick from its complex security casing when a male voice, almost conversational in tone, rings out behind you.

"I can't let you leave with that."

Startled, you whirl around to see a man standing no more than a meter away from you. You wonder how long he's been there, watching you.

He has bright ginger hair which is swept back from his face, short at the back and sides, but longer on top and slightly ruffled. His matching red stubble sits on his cheeks, chin, upper-lip and travels up his well-defined jawline to his ears. He is dressed simply in a fawn shirt, dark grey pants, and sturdy brown boots.

A small red and white droid, bipedal, with a flat rectangular head and two photoreceptors, one slightly larger and beadier than the other, hangs almost casually off his shoulder like a pet. It's a BD unit, you think.

Both the man and the droid are rather dirty, but then, so are you after squeezing your way through a maze of dusty ventilation shafts. It makes sense the only possible way they could have gotten in here is the same way you did.

The stranger is holding something metal in his right hand that glints occasionally in the vault's dim security lighting, but you can't quite work out what it is. A weapon?

You raise your blaster.

"Don't!" he shouts, holding out a palm towards you, "The vault is magnetically sealed, if you miss, that bolt's going to cause us both a world of problems."

You raise an eyebrow because one, you already know that, and two...

"Bold of you to assume I'll miss at point blank range," you say levelly.

You keep your weapon trained steadily at the young man's chest.

He adjusts his grip on whatever it is he is holding and a green beam of light extends from the hilt of what you now realise is a lightsaber. A deep thrumming sound resonates around the small chamber.

A Jedi. Great.

You thought they were all extinct after the Emperor's purge. Briefly, childhood memories of evening strolls with your parents past the monumental ziggurat of the Jedi temple glowing golden in the low Coruscanti sun flash through your mind. You remember the thrill of excitement at seeing the Jedi, elegant and regal in their grand robes, lightsabers clinking at their belts as they swept by on important Republic business.

Right now? Here? This is the last place you want to see one.

The light from the blade illuminates the young man's face which, you have to admit, is a rather attractive combination of youthful and rugged. His nose and cheeks are peppered with freckles and his eyes contain green irises so deep in colour that they almost match his blade. A thin, red scar runs almost horizontally across the bridge of his nose, dipping down onto his right cheek. The ghost of a smirk is now playing on his lips and it has the irritating effect of making him more handsome.

You don't know why, but for some reason, you trust him instinctively not to try and cut you in half with that humming beam of hot, vibrating energy. At a stalemate, you lower your blaster. He follows your lead by deactivating the blade of his saber immediately.

"If you make me a good offer, you can have this right now," you say, one hand on your hip, the other waving the data stick in front of him impatiently.

You never like staying on the scene of a job too long and you are starting to feel on edge.

"I've got ... uhhh ... one hundred credits?"

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he speaks. He knows it's a stupidly lowball offer and you scoff loudly to let him know you think so too.

"Look, I know the ISB would pay a lot for information like this but..."

"I don't sell to the Empire," you snarl, cutting him off.

He holds up his hands in a gesture of apology which seems genuine enough. He tries again.

"I really need to get this to a contact in the Mid Rim..."

"The Mid Rim?" you interrupt abruptly, "that's off-world."

"Yeah..." his brow furrows and a slow, quizzical smile spreads across his face at the obviousness of your statement.

You curse yourself for being as predictable as a cheap holo novel. All your life you've lived on Coruscant. You've never been anywhere else. These days, the endless maze of unnatural, lifeless spires and struts and blocks of artificial construction seem to press in and in and in on you so that, despite the sprawling size of the metropolis, it feels like you are living in a tiny metal cage.

Still, this stranger didn't need to know that, and you realise you've given him his angle - a bargaining chip.

"I can't buy it off you," he reasons, "I don't have the credits, but I do have a proposal. Work with me and my crew. It's regular and we're rarely on one world for too long..."

There it is...

You got in here," he continues, gesturing around the vault, "we could use someone with your skill set. And, you get to piss off the Empire in the process."

You consider his offer. You are used to working alone and you don't like the complications that come with relying on others. Trusting anyone is difficult after fending for yourself, all alone, so successfully and for so long....

But with the Empire continuing to close their fist around all aspects of daily life, work was difficult to come by on Coruscant these days. Thieving in the city from Imperial targets in particular was becoming more and more fraught with danger.

While it riled you that he was able to read you so easily, really, what did you have to lose? Because by the Force did you not want to get off Coruscant? Isn't this what you'd been waiting for your whole life? An adventure?

"One job," you counter pragmatically, extending your hand to shake his, "And we'll see how it goes from there."

"Cal Kestis," he introduces himself with a disarmingly friendly smile, "And deal."

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

One job turns into another then another and another. Weeks turn into months and soon you've been on Cal's ship - well, borrowed ship you had come to learn - the Mantis for nearly half a year.

You've grown close with the crew of the Mantis. Cal, Gabs, Bravo and the two hulking Klatooinine twins, Lizz and Koob. This type of camaraderie is new to you. You really thought you'd struggle with it, that your independent nature would rail against the confines of living in close quarters with ship mates and fitting your own whims and desires and wants around others. In reality, you've never felt more at home. You didn't realise how lonely you had become before.

And the missions you run with the crew are exhilarating. This new life is so much more than just pilfering here and there from the Empire. You feel like you are really making a difference, like you're spitting directly in the face of the Imperial machine with every job. You feel like a Rebel.

It's not all sabotage and espionage and fighting Stormtroopers though. Off duty, life on the Mantis is mainly based around friendly joshing and winding each other up. And the dull minutiae of life still goes on.

Like now.

You and Cal are patching up the Mantis while the others are out on a supply run. You are currently crouched on your haunches so that the service hatch you are examining on one of the walls inside the ship is at eye level.

Cal is stood behind you, arms folded across his chest. You've been arguing good naturedly about what the problem is with the engine cooling system for an hour and you are now impatiently waiting for BD-1 to finish his scan to find out which one of you is right.

The little droid crawls out from the tangle of wires and gives you little nod and a boop of approval. You pat BD on his rectangular head and he scurries up your arm and on to your shoulder.

"I told you that was the problem," you say, craning your neck to look up at Cal with a triumphant grin.

You gesture to the wiring tool in his hand.

"Give that to me, I'll do it."

The Jedi looks down at the small instrument in his hand then tosses it up in the air and catches it again. He has that mischievous look on his face, the one you've learned to recognise as a sign that he's about to do something really annoying.

"Kestis..." you warn standing up, unable to stop your lips curling into a smile.

You make a lunge for the tool in his hand, but he's too quick. In a flash, he's holding it up above his head. Cal is almost a head taller than you and there's no way you can reach that high, even when you stretch up onto your tiptoes.

Instead, you decide to play dirty. You jab him hard in both his sides with your fingers where you know he's ticklish. He makes a funny sort of snorting noise in surprise and his hand drops for long enough that you manage to snatch the tool from him and make off with it at great speed.

Cal darts after you, both of you careering in to the kitchen of the Mantis, the thud and scrape of your boots on the ship's durasteel grated floor ringing throughout the ship in chorus with your laughter.

BD-1 takes this opportunity to leap of your shoulder and onto the kitchen table with an indignant whirr, determined not to get involved in this organic tomfoolery.

Cal is on you in seconds. He grabs you around the middle and lifts you off the ground with ease, spinning you around and deliberately tickling you in between making grabs for the wiring tool.

You squeal and let out perhaps the most ridiculous giggle to ever escape your mouth. You can't let him get away with forcing you to make a noise like that so you elbow him in the stomach. It's only a gentle prod really, but it's enough to make him grunt and let go of you.

As Cal doubles over, winded, you sprint back around to the opposite side of kitchen table holding the instrument aloft and performing a little victory dance.

Across the table, Cal straightens and, with a cocky look on his face, he stretches his arm out towards you. You stumble forwards slightly as if pulled forwards by an invisible rope tied around your wrist as he uses the Force to tear the tool easily out of your hand and bring it flying through the air to rest in his own outstretched palm.

"That's cheating!" you say, breathlessly.

Despite your half-hearted admonishment, in reality, you're delighted. And you're certain Cal knows it. The more time you spend with him, the more that old fascination you held as a child with the strange powers of the Jedi has returned. You are always enchanted by Cal's displays of Force ability.

"Alright kids, we almost ready to go?" Gabs' voice echoing through from the Mantis' doorway signals the return of the others.

Cal shrugs at you and you both grin, panting from your exertions. Keeping his green eyes locked on yours, he backs casually towards the door to help Gabs and the others load up the supply crates. Just before he exits the ship, he tosses the wiring tool to you underarm and you catch it with an elaborate flourish and twirl that makes him laugh.

You return to your work fixing the Mantis's cooling system with BD-1. You try to concentrate, but you feel slightly giddy. You can still feel Cal's strong arms against your body as if they remain wrapped around you. His masculine scent, pleasant and earthy and fresh like petrichor, seems to linger in your proximity and on your skin.

BD-1 tries his best to keep you right. He trills or nudges you every so often either to correct your wiring or to encourage you to stop staring into space with that inane, absent-minded smile.

When you lie in your cot bed that night, the hum of the Mantis' hyperdrive lulls you into a comfortable drowsiness and your thoughts return, unbidden, to Cal.

Over the past few months, it's like the very idea of him nestled deep into your brain and now refuses to budge. Every morning when you wake, you look forward to the sight of his honest, open, expressive face. The warmth of his slightly crooked smile. The way his red brows arch when he finds something funny before he squeezes his eyes shut so tight that they crinkle at the corners as he throws back his head, letting out peels of joyful, open-mouthed laughter.

Even when he has those strange moments of quiet introspection which you don't quite understand yet, you find it hard not to watch him. You can't help it, even although you sometimes feel like you are intruding on a private, sacred moment of reflection. It's always the same. His eyes glaze over as he stares out into the distance at nothing, a muscle works in his chiselled jaw, and then his head drops as if in dignified, melancholic prayer. These periods never last too long - not when he has a crew to lead.

There's no point in denying it anymore, at least not to yourself anyway. Your feelings for Cal go beyond comradeship; beyond friendship. And a hopeful notion has formed in your head that he might actually feel the same way about you.

It's both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

A sudden heat blooms deep within your very core and rises in your cheeks as your mind conjures the image, no, the feeling of Cal's solid, toned body, pressed against yours in a feverish, impassioned embrace, your limbs entwined, fingers woven tightly through the flames of his red hair

Force, you want him.

You place a palm against the cool durasteel wall above your head that separates your room from the Jedi's. You wonder what he's thinking of on the other side of the thin sheet of metal.

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

Cal Kestis can't sleep. Like most Jedi, he can't actually read the thoughts of others, but his connection to the Force allows him to feel the emotions and state of mind of those around him.

Over the past few months, the Jedi has noticed your feelings for him blossoming into something more than friendship, mirroring the growth of his own affections for you.

But tonight, Cal can sense that something in your emotional frequency has changed. Evolved. A clarity, a new and vigorous and glorious certainty in your desire for him radiates incandescent through the Force. It's like the smouldering embers of a fire have ignited into a ferocious blaze.

As the feeling permeates through the thin sheet-metal wall dividing you, the intensity of it, the heat of it, drives him crazy. He wants to rip through the flimsy partition separating you and give you everything you want from him and more. His whole body is aflame with almost painful arousal and he is aching to bring himself release.

Cal resists, teetering on the very edge of giving himself over to his desire. Is this voyeuristic? Is he trespassing? Crossing some unspoken line? Should he be trying to block you out? He doesn't know.

The Jedi hisses through his teeth in frustration. Reluctantly, he rolls out of bed and, sinking to his knees on the floor, surrenders himself to the Force in search of whatever temporary solace he can find in meditation.

Even as he does so, he knows that the only real relief he'll be able to get now is if he can find it with you.

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

The crew of the Mantis are taking some time to rest after a run of particularly eventful jobs. You've landed on the quiet world of Brax at the edge of the Mid Rim. It's a beautiful, lush planet adorned with meadows of wildflowers, glassy lakes and sprawling coniferous forests.

Everyone is making the most of their down time.

Gabs and Bravo have gone off for a hike in the nearby woods.

BD-1 is having a well earned oil bath on the Mantis.

The twins are snoozing in the meadow amongst the flowers. When you'd crept past them earlier, you'd smiled fondly - the peaceful serenity on their faces was such an odd juxtaposition to their usual chaotic enthusiasm for life.

Having successfully sneaked past Lizz and Koob without waking them, you are now sitting atop a large slab of rock which juts up and out of the meadow. You alternate between admiring the view of the lake and cleaning your blaster.

It is a warm day, but a gentle cooling breeze keeps the heat at bay. A gust suddenly whips up the heady, sweet smell of wildflowers all around you. For some reason the scent triggers something inside you, your heart suddenly full to bursting with a strange concoction of melancholy and joy.

To think that all this beauty, all this Galaxy was just out here, waiting, your whole life. And if you'd never met Cal, you might still be crawling through filthy ventilation shafts smelling of metal and damp and darkness just to get by on Coruscant.

You are just about ready to reassemble your weapon when you look up from your task towards where the Jedi is meditating with his back to you. He's kneeling a few meters in front of you on the sandy shore by the still water. You always think it's strange how he chooses to sit on his knees, rather than cross-legged. It looks uncomfortable to you, but he seems to be able to sit like that for anywhere up to an hour. Maybe you'll ask him about it one day.

Cal is shirtless. Even from here, you can see the freckles littered like celestial constellations across his strong back and down his broad shoulders and muscled arms. You take the opportunity to admire the outlines and angles of his taut, athletic body.

You start as the Jedi begins to stand. You'd rather not get caught staring at him quite so openly and you quickly shift your gaze back to your blaster which is still in its various component parts.

Cal turns and advances towards you up the beach and onto the grassy meadow. You pretend not to have noticed him at all, but you keep catching glimpses of him in your peripheral vision. He walks a few paces, then stops and looks around as if he's searching for something on the ground. Then he crouches down. He does this several times.

What is he up to?

"Hey," Cal says casually as he finally wanders over to you.

He has to crane his neck to speak to you, perched as you are on top of your rock, and use a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He's hiding something behind his back you realise.

"Oh, hey," you reply, as if you're surprised to see him there.

He pulls his hand from behind his back and reaches up to you. In his grasp is a bunch of wildflowers, beautiful pastel blues and pinks and purples.

You exclaim softly in surprise, a rather giddy sound that makes Cal beam up at you. As you take the blooms from him, his fingertips, calloused and tough from years of wielding a weapon in combat, brush gently against your hand. Even that small touch feels like a spark of electricity arching between you.

"See you at dinner," he says, and he's clearly pleased with himself as he retreats towards the Mantis, head held high, a jaunt in his step.

As you twist in your seated position to watch him disappear into the ship, you realise you were so enchanted by the gesture that you forgot to say thank you.

That's the thing about Cal Kestis. He's completely disarming. He has a rare, effortless charisma and an easy, flirtatious way about him that is somehow both sweet and suave at the same time. Few men you've met have ever managed to render you so flustered.

You look down at the delicate blooms in your hand and bring them to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent. Smiling to yourself, you shake loose the functional way you usually wear your hair to keep it out of your face and retie it, carefully weaving the wildflowers that Cal has picked for you through your locks.

When you come in for dinner - Bravo's turn to cook - Cal is already sitting at the kitchen table. He looks up and inclines his head to the side as he takes you in, his eyes widening. You blush furiously to see the genuine pleasure at the sight of you and your decorated hair written so openly on his face.

Amid the usual convivial hubbub and chaos of dinner in the Mantis' kitchen, you and Cal steal glances at each other across the table.

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

That evening, the moon is low and yellow in Brax's dark sky, hanging like a ball of golden light above the lake. You have an hour or so before you all depart for a rendezvous with a contact on Naboo. It's the twins' turn to do pre-flight checks and you find yourself on the shores of the water, skimming stones with Cal to kill time.

Before joining the crew of the Mantis you'd never skimmed a stone in your life. Not many places to do that on Coruscant. But Gabs in particular is an ace at it and she's taught you well.

Cal spots a likely candidate for his next projectile and he brings it flying casually into his hand using his Jedi abilities.

"What does it feel like like?" You ask, suddenly.

Cal smiles at you, seemingly understanding that you are talking about the Force. He hesitates for a second, looking down at the stone in his open palm. Then he places it back on the ground in an obvious position, nestled in the sand a few feet in front of you, and moves round to stand behind you.

He's so close you can feel his heart beating against his chest. Instinctively, you lean back into him, enjoying the safe feeling that his nearness gives you, and the warmth of his body against yours in the chill night air.

"It's time for instruction," he says softly.

He's said that phrase before when he's showing anyone how to do something new. You've come to understand that it's a fond impression of his late Master's dignified voice - a touching habit you've always thought.

Tonight it sounds different. His tone is light and teasing, but the smirk you can hear as he speaks makes the words sound almost seductive in a way that causes something to flip then tighten in the pit of your abdomen.

"Hold out your hand."

You extend your right arm, holding your palm outwards as you've seen Cal do many times. He places his own palm against the back of your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours.

His other hand comes to rest at your waist, pulling you ever so slightly closer into him. He doesn't need to put it there and you both know it. Nor does he need to rest his chin on your left shoulder, so close to your cheek that his stubble almost tickles your skin.

Yet you can tell that you are both revelling in this rare, private opportunity for proximity between the two of you, and it is as thrilling as it is maddening.

"Focus. Breathe."

You realise you've been holding your breath. You feel Cal's chest rising and falling against your back and you match your own breathing in time with his. You can't help but notice it's at a slightly elevated pace.

"See the stone in your hand."

You nod and exhale, your eyes boring into the rock as if you really are going to levitate it yourself. You try and fail to stifle a sudden giggle at the ridiculousness of such an idea.

"Concentrate," Cal scolds quietly in your ear but you can hear the smile in his voice as the hand round your waist tightens its grip ever so slightly.

"I am," you mutter, but it's only half true.

You wonder if it's just your imagination, but in the seconds that follow, you think you can feel an deep, vibration flowing through Cal and passing through his body and into yours, binding your lifeforces together.

The rock flies so suddenly into your palm that you jump. You just about remember to close your fingers around the stone's cool, smooth surface as you shout out in surprise and delight. Cal lets out a good-natured laugh at your reaction and you glow as it rumbles through his whole body and yours.

You've just made up your mind to twist around in his arms kiss him when BD-1 comes running through the grass at great speed on his little legs, beeping and chirping urgently.

"Ok buddy, ok, we're coming," Cal says kindly to the little droid, but you can hear the exasperation at the untimely interruption in his voice.

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

Course set, the Mantis is travelling at lightspeed and, nestled safely in the cradle of the hyperlane, you will probably make it to Naboo in about six hours.

You suspect the rest of the crew are all sleeping soundly. The Mantis takes care of herself for the most part when travelling through hyperspace. With the life you lead, the importance of catching rest when you can cannot be underestimated.

You, however, cannot sleep. Thoughts of Cal and your interrupted moment by the lake race through your mind. The wildflowers he gave you are still in your hair and every so often you catch the ghost of their aroma, reminding you of your almost idyllic day on Brax.

You sigh and drag yourself out of bed, deciding to go and sit in the empty cockpit of the Mantis for a while and watch the stars race by as you hurtle through the hyperlane. Although it should really be frightening, you love to watch great swathes of the Galaxy disappear in a flash before your eyes as the Mantis catapults through space. It's a novel experience for you still - being off Coruscant, light speed travel, new worlds.

You wave your hand over the control and the door to your room hisses open. You jump to see a figure already standing there in the corridor. With a jolt of excitement, and with a strange feeling that you've summoned him somehow, you realise that it's Cal.

"Uh, hi.."

You don't let him get more than two words into his sentence. You grab him roughly by the front of his loose night shirt - which is slung low, revealing tufts of ginger hair on his chest and the elegant lines of his collarbone - and pull him into a deep kiss.

Not breaking away from your lips, and hardly hesitating, he picks you with almost alarming ease. You wrap your legs around his waist and curl your fingers in his red hair as he carries you back into your quarters. He places you up onto your workbench situated against the opposite wall as the door slides closed behind you.

"You look so pretty with those flowers in your hair," he mumbles into your neck you shiver with pleasure as his mouth brushes against your skin as he talks.

"Yes, it's a shame you're about to make such a mess of me," you whisper into his ear.

He pulls back to stare at you for a moment, green eyes wide as if dumbfounded by your forwardness. His delighted, slack-jawed expression forces a loud giggle from deep within you.

"Shhh," Cal warns emphatically, keenly aware of the proximity of the rest of the crew and how thin the walls of the Mantis are. He presses a kiss to your mouth in an attempt to silence your outburst, but you can feel his body shake with his own barely contained laughter as he grins against your lips.

Once your stifled mirth subsides, you hastily start to undress each other. You barely have time to appreciate the now naked, muscular form of the Jedi before you, when, in his enthusiasm to remove it, Cal accidentally rips your flimsy night dress away from your body. As it comes apart in his hands, the fabric makes a loud tearing sound, louder even perhaps than that of your previous bouts of laughter. You both freeze, as if anticipating someone will burst through the door and catch you in this compromising position, before dissolving into poorly restrained giggles again.

As he drinks in the sight of your body, Cal's expression changes into something primal. His brows knit together as if he is trying to understand how you could possibly be sitting in front of him like this. Then, his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare before he crashes his mouth back down on to yours into a deliciously rough kiss.

You don't move from your position on your workbench, and you coil your legs around Cal as tight as you can as he starts to move in you. The pace is urgent. You don't mind. There'll be opportunities for languid and gentle love-making in the future. Right now, this is a matter of need for both of you. The cord of tension that has been tightening between you for months finally snapping in a glorious, frenzied, explosion of mutual lust.

As his pace increases and his movements start to become uncoordinated, Cal moves a hand down between your bodies, splaying his palm against you, and settling the pad of his thumb between your legs at the very place you most need it to be.

At this, your hand which was tangled in his flaming hair flies down to join the other at his back and he growls as you claw your fingers in to his flesh between his shoulder blades.

You press your lips hard into his shoulder to muffle your cries as you approach your peak and then, suddenly, you are crashing over the edge and seeing stars. You gasp out his name, over and over, open mouthed and breathy against his ear.

This, combined with the sensation of your body in rapture, sends Cal hurtling towards his own oblivion. You cling to him while the great, strong muscles all over his body tense and release, and he lets out a long, shuddering groan into your neck that is almost a whimper.

The sight of him, the sound of him falling apart in front of you is beautiful.

Once you've both caught your breath, Cal lifts you gently off the table, and carries you to your tiny, single cot bed. You manage to position yourselves fairly comfortably in the snug space by lying on your sides. The Jedi has one arm laced underneath you with the other slung over your waist, hand resting on your stomach and holding you close to his warm chest.

As you are lulled almost into a doze by the sound and feel of his slow and steady heartbeat, you take in the rather sorry sight of the flowers which once bejewelled your hair, now scattered in ruin across the functional durasteel floor.

"I told you those flowers wouldn't last," you muse drowsily.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Cal removes his hand from your waist and reaches out his arm, palm splayed open. A blue bell flower, stem and petals astonishingly still intact- a brave survivor of the onslaught of urgent hands through your hair - floats lazily up from the floor and towards you on the bed.

Cal plucks it out of the air and gently weaves the bloom into your locks just above your ear. Then, he kisses you gently on the cheek and then on your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin, before sinking back down on to his side and resuming his previous position curled comfortingly around you.

For some reason, despite the eroticism of what you've just done together, this sweet gesture makes you flush disproportionately and you feel your cheeks turning pink.

You're starting to realise, perhaps hope, that the heady feeling of being slightly flustered in Cal Kestis' proximity might never go away.

[fandom-friday]

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! A comprehensive list of this week’s submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

💕 = 18+ content 🟪 = contains spoilers of a currently running show

Fics:

The Clone Wars: It Only Takes a Spark (Purge Trooper Cody x f!Inquisitor Reader) by @vodika-vibes 💕 Time After Time (Commander Cody x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino Theirs (Commander Fox x f!Reader x Commander Wolffe) by @vodika-vibes 💕 Don't Stop on My Account (Commander Wolffe x f!Reader) by @dickarchivist 💕 One Spotchka Too Many (Captain Rex x f!Reader) by @twistedsarchive Captain Rex x OC Nia Ficlet by @eternal-transcience 💕 The Last Word (Fives x OC Mal Darroch) by @ariadnes-red-thread Shattered Sunrise (Mace Windu x OC Danica Morrow) by @pickleprickle The Choices We Make, The Paths We Tread by lildropofmagic (AO3) The Number Lads by @jgvfhl

The Bad Batch: The Hostage by @kybercrystals94 Freeze Thaw by AnEchoInHere (AO3)

The Book of Boba Fett: 💕 This Tender Love (Boba Fett x f!Reader) by @daimyosprincess 💕 Worth the Risk (Boba Fett x f!Reader) by @daimyosprincess

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Revelations by shOokspeared (AO3)

Republic Commando: 💕 Off the Grid (Niner Skirata x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino

Batman: Lavender Blood by @starkskypines

Hetalia: Axis Powers: Grey Skies Over London by Gemini Star 01 (ff.net) Every Generation by Gemini Star 01 (ff.net) Gutters by Glassamilk (ff.net) Ditches by Glassamilk (ff.net)

Call of Duty: 💕 Riptide (Price x f!Reader) by @the-californicationist

Crossover AUs: Edward's Babysitting Service (Hetalia: Axis Powers X Fullmetal Alchemist Crossover) by orphan_account (AO3) Conversations With Patronizing Jerks (Hetalia: Axis Powers X Star Wars Crossover) by @basketofnova

Art:

The Clone Wars: Republic Troops 501st Poster by @boggsart Clone Wars Band Art by @pinkiemme Captain Rex Art by @vivaislenska Captain Rex Art by @kheimerios Captain Rex Art by @rackcty Mace Windu Art by @mudpuddless Fives and OC Elara McTavish Art by @aliettali OC Kazi and OC Daria by @eyecandyeoz (from I Yearn and So I Fear by @enigmaticexplorer) Clone OC Atlas Art by @orionfrommars

The Bad Batch: Bad Batch Selfie Art by @collophora Happy Ending Bad Batch Art by @mroddmod Hunter and Omega Art by @blxem1lk Hunter Redesign by @snw-faatuatua 🟪 (TBB S3) Hunter Art by @soularsss 🟪 (TBB S3) CX-2 Art by @notnyxxy Tech Art by @rexxdjarin Tech and Phee's Children OCs by @nightskyfoxyy A Place to Hide by @the-rain-on-kamino

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Young Boba Fett Art by @mrs2224

Jedi: Survivor: BD-1 Art by @eriadus

Batman: Batman's Boys by @inverted-typo

How to Train Your Dragon: Meatlug Art by @spacenintendogs

Call of Duty: Wraith by @bluegiragi

GIF Sets:

The Book of Boba Fett: Kia Kaha, Kia Maia, Kia Manawanui by @bobafettdaily

[anakinskywalkerog]

My Very Soul (Chapter 34)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 33

Warnings: a bit of sad reader, a bit of angsty Anakin, FLUFF, clandestine love affair bullshit!! and a very subtle implied *you know* at the very end (rated teen as always)

Summary: Your training with Obi-Wan constitutes a new beginning; you and Anakin reckon with the fight you had after Felucia (WE HAVE NEW CLONE WARS ANAKIN GIFS TO USE I'm screaming)

Word Count: 4.2k

You felt the crisp, cool, morning air of the Temple hit your face like a bucket of water, as if the wind wanted to keep you awake and upright. You walked slowly through the hallways, focusing on your breathing, on the cold air, the hard marble beneath your feet, on anything but the whispered conversations you heard around you. Not heard—felt. You knew that the few Jedi you passed in the halls were not responsible for the accumulation of the voices in your head. This was just how it was for you, now—you couldn't help but pick up too much, like you were receiver that was too sensitive, picking up too many transmission signals.

It was easier to ignore the feel of all of the whispering voices than it was to ignore the pain you felt in your entire being. Walking through the Temple halls, even, felt like walking through thick, piling sand, your limbs aching. But you knew you mustn't focus on the pain—the pain of your grief, still so heavy, or the pain that twinged in your mind as you thought about the fight you'd had with Anakin last night—you mustn't let it consume you. You had work to do.

You felt horribly guilty for how you had shouted at Anakin the previous evening, how you had pushed him away, how you had told him to get out. Not that he had listened; he'd held you all through the night, and even after you'd calmed enough to dose, you still felt the guilt of it in your veins. So, when you'd awoken to the coruscanti light streaming in through the window slats, and you'd seen Anakin fast asleep, his peaceful, beautiful face finally at ease, you knew it wouldn't be right to wake him. You'd taken one last look at his face, admiring the shape of his jaw, his eyebrows slightly downturned in sleep, his eyelashes that shown blonde in the morning light, before you'd slipped out from under the covers and donned your robe, holstering your lightsaber before sneaking out of your apartment.

There would be time to apologize later. Now, you knew, you needed to clear your mind. You kept walking. As you passed the archives, something that you had been thinking about since you had returned from Felucia flashed through your head. Later, you told yourself, turning to look ahead and stilling yourself for what was to come.

You stopped outside the meditation chambers. You knew you didn't need to knock—knew that he would sense your presence. And, as you heaved another sigh, working to keep your body upright, fighting the weight of that ever-present grief, you heard his quiet voice.

"Enter," Obi-Wan said, and you pushed the button on the panel on the wall, walking slowly into the darkened meditation room. Everything inside was a shade of blue and grey, even the pale light slipping in through the mostly-covered windows. The room contained only a few soft ottomans, and gave the impression of stillness, of calm. Even so, you had to hold your breath as you bowed to Obi-Wan and took your place on the ottoman across from his. Everything in this Temple reminded you of Yuma. Everything reminded you that she was no longer here.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Obi-Wan said gently, his eyes grazing over your form, your face. You realized you still had yet to visit the refresher, your hair still looking like a nest something might crawl out of. You couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Thank you for...offering, to help me train," you responded, bowing your head again slightly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

"I will do what I can," Obi-Wan replied, folding his legs on the ottoman, assuming a straight-backed meditative position. You followed suit, and found that your body felt comforted in this position, like muscle memory, as if its familiarity made the weight a little bit easier to bear.

"It is my understanding that you were unsuccessful," Obi-Wan began, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "when trying to extricate yourself from Yuma's thoughts and memories in the Force."

"Yes," you said, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the lump that had formed in your throat as you thought back to those training sessions, some that had taken place in this very same room. It felt like a different lifetime, compared to the one you were living now.

"And you were unable, as well, to stop reading other's presences, when you tried." You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts drift lazily toward Anakin, and you checked to make sure your own Force presence was folded neatly and minutely into yourself. The last thing you needed from this training was to reveal too much.

"Yes," you said again, watching Obi-Wan with interest.

"What did it feel like? When you tried to disentangle yourself from Yuma's presence?" Obi-Wan sounded genuinely curious. You swallowed again, pushing your head and back up straight, blinking away the pang that her name sent through you.

"It felt like..." you thought back to those training sessions. "It felt like there were thousands of...tendrils, connecting my presence to Yuma's presence, in the Force. And all of the tendrils were tangled together, knotted and looped...it took so much effort to disconnect one, or two, but before I could make progress, her thoughts or emotions would shift, and new tendrils would take their place. I could never get too many disconnected at once."

"An interesting metaphor..." Obi-Wan mused, his hand gracing over his mustache, his eyes unfocused as he considered your words. "My thought is that we are going about this the wrong way." He looked up, making eye contact with you once again.

"I'm listening."

"I've observed your Force empathy myself..." Obi-Wan said, looking at you as if he could see through you, right to your very soul. "I've found that your own emotions form a strong connection to those you read in others."

You thought back to all the times you'd mistaken others emotions for your own...with Anakin, the first day you'd even met him, or with Henry, when you'd seen his memories and assumed they were yours. You nodded.

"Sometimes...sometimes they even become indiscernible," you confirmed. "My own emotions, and those I read in others." Obi-Wan nodded as well.

"Logically it follows that extricating your emotions from the emotions of others would be very difficult," Obi-Wan said. You thought back over your relationship with Anakin—how at first you'd been afraid your feelings of affection, longing, of love weren't yours at all. Over time, though, your own feelings had grown such that their strength couldn't be denied. They had asserted themselves over you, over both of your lives. You shuddered at the thought, at how difficult it felt, even now, to not be by his side, not be in his arms. How those emotions threatened to swallow you whole.

"If the two are inseparable," Obi-Wan continued, snapping you back to attention, "instead of trying to separate your emotions from the emotions of another, I'm wondering if we can cut both off at the source."

"You mean..." you pondered, thinking this through, "not feel anything?"

"Not exactly, no," Obi-Wan explained, his voice thoughtful. "You are gifted at meditation, yes?" You nodded, wanting to see where he was going with this. "Instead of trying not to feel anything, you might think to separate yourself from your own emotions, when in particularly dangerous or high-stakes situations."

"You're speaking of impermanence," you murmured softly. Obi-Wan nodded. It was an old Jedi principle, one you had learned from a very young age—that the root of all suffering was impermanence. That to fear the impermanence led to anger, and then to hate, and then to suffering. A Jedi must accept the impermanence of all things. Especially emotion, you thought to yourself.

"I think you might have more success if you were to try to separate yourself—your being, your very soul—from those momentary feelings. The emotions you feel, and those that others feel, entangled and entwined as they are." Obi-Wan watched you, waiting for your response.

"So, it isn't about trying not to feel..." you said, thinking deeply. "But rather, allowing my sense of self to detach from my feelings, when the occasion calls for it."

"Yes." Obi-Wan affirmed. "It isn't about escaping your own emotions...but rather, forming a stronghold against them, and the ones you might read in others." Obi-Wan paused for a moment while you thought this over. "The Sith are controlled by their emotion." You looked up, and for a moment, instead of Obi-Wan's blue iris, you saw the purple one that had haunted you in your dreams. "They draw strength from it, yes," Obi-Wan continued, "but they also let it consume them. It seems to me that when you intuit Sith presences, that emotion consumes you too."

You thought back to when Count Dooku had taken you prisoner in your own mind. It had felt like being led down a dark path, one that narrowed, narrowed, until...until you'd been trapped. You didn't want to be rendered useless ever again. You didn’t want anyone else to come into harm's way because you were unable to keep your own mind for yourself. As your resolve hardened, you sat up straight, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

"What must I do?"

It was difficult work. Obi-Wan led you through a series of visualization exercises, and then meditations. You waded so deeply into the weeds of your own mind that you felt, for a moment, afraid you might get lost in it once again. But Obi-Wan was there, his voice guiding you, allowing you to continue mapping those deepest parts of yourself. You soon found that you were not one whole, but a composite mix of things; you were not solely a Jedi, nor were you solely the self that Yuma had taught, nor the woman that Anakin loved. You were many different things, different forms, ever-shifting and changing along with your consciousness.

By the end of the lesson, you'd achieved a moment—only a moment—in which you had looked at Obi-Wan and felt nothing emanating from his presence at all. It snapped away as you lost your focus, and you'd been certain that it was a mistake, but Obi-Wan had assured you that he did not have the gift of hiding his Force presence, and that if you had not been intuiting it, you had made great progress. You could admit that the flow of conversation in the back of your mind, the ever-present murmuring, had quieted to only a trickle. This was a great improvement from the storm of voices you had grown accustomed to. After only one day's effort, you and Obi-Wan had achieved more than you and your Master had been able to accomplish in six months.  

"Thank you," you said, breathless, sweat dripping down your brow from effort. For the first time since Felucia, you felt a bit looser, like you didn't have to try quite as hard to stand up straight.

"I appreciate your gratitude," Obi-Wan said kindly, "but you know it isn't necessary. I want to do anything I can to help you." You nodded your thanks to him, all the same. Obi-Wan's face became thoughtful. "I've never encountered anything like you, in the Force," he added, considering you.

You paused, taken aback. Obi-Wan, one of the most talented Jedi in the Order, who'd had a Padawan that—

"But...Anakin..." you mumbled, confused.

"I've never encountered anything like either of you," Obi-Wan said, chuckling and rubbing his beard. "You astound even the wisest of us." You laughed too, and felt yourself surprised to hear the sound.

"I know it doesn’t help," Obi-Wan remarked softly, "But I…have been in your position before. I watched my own Master be killed." You went quiet, your eyes fully on Obi-Wan, his head bowed, his hair hanging over his face, his eyes glazed with the memory. "And I was there, and I could do nothing to stop it. The mark that it leaves…it gets easier, with time. Easier to bear the weight of it."

You had never heard Obi-Wan speak of his Master before. Qui-Gon’s passing had happened when you were so young—it had scared you, at the time, with all the rumors surrounding how it had happened, but you hadn't thought, at that young age, of the effect it must have had on his Padawan.

"It does help," you told him quietly. The two of you sat for a moment in comfortable silence.

"How do you feel?" Obi-Wan asked, looking you over with careful concern. You considered his question honestly, allowing your body to express itself to you.

"I feel...hungry," you breathed, surprised at yourself. Obi-Wan smiled widely, and you grinned back at him, feeling, for the first time in a while, like there was solid ground beneath you.

Anakin stalked through the halls of the Temple. Jedi who were in his path moved swiftly to get out of his way; a maintenance droid squealed as the toe of Anakin's boot just missed it, but he wasn't paying attention. He looked down for a moment, but could barely see the tendons in his hands as he clenched his fingers into fists. He barely noticed the way the other Jedi were looking at him, his furrowed brow, his tall stature. He had other things on his mind.

He had awoken in your bed to find it empty. Fear and panic had gripped his heart as he tore apart the sheets, looking through the apartment, calling for you. It was only then that he remembered your training with Obi-Wan, your promise from the previous day. It had calmed him, but only a little. He had dressed quickly, sneaking out of your Jedi apartment with ease. He knew he had to find you.

Anakin's heart raced thinking about how you had been these previous days, how immobile you seemed, how you had been refusing to eat or drink, how you hadn't been able to get out of that bed. It terrified him whenever your eyes started to glaze over; when you didn't seem to fully see the room you were in. He was worried you might slip back into that Force haze at any moment, that space where you had seemed all but lost to him forever. He wouldn't let that happen.

The meditation room was empty; Anakin paused in the doorway only for a moment, before wheeling around and continuing down to the lower level. Where could you have gone? Surely not back to the medical chambers, unless—unless something had happened to you, during your training? Unless your mind had gone back into that cloudedness—

Surely there was no way the council had already sent you into command, was there? Anakin himself had been granted a small reprieve after the events of Felucia. He knew the council had appointed you general of the 415th batallion, Yuma's former position. He knew you had accepted command—what else could you have done? But could the council have sent you back into combat so quickly? Panic gripped Anakin's heart as he considered what it might mean if you returned to battle in your current state. He paused just outside the Temple gardens, half-ready to turn around and head back up toward the medical bay, to the council chambers, to demand to know where you were, when—

He felt a tug within him in the Force. It was a familiar presence; it felt like comfort, and reddish brown hair, the sleeve of a tunic...

Anakin found him on the other side of the gardens, in the corner, sitting with a cup of tea.

"Where is she?" Anakin demanded, looking around quickly. Obi-Wan seemed relaxed, so, at the very least, nothing horrible could have happened to you.

"Good morning, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice sounding tired.

"Where is she?" Anakin asked again, bouncing back onto the heels of his boots for emphasis, feeling unable to keep still, even in the presence of his seated Master.

"I believe she went to get something to eat," Obi-Wan replied, looking warily up at Anakin.

"To eat?" Anakin asked, pausing for a moment, debating turning around on the spot and heading for the mess hall. But if you had gone to get something to eat, then—

"Training went well, then?" Anakin asked, lowering his voice, perching on the bench next to the one on which Obi-Wan lounged, in the corner of the Temple garden.

"I would say so," Obi-Wan said in his infuriatingly calm voice. Obi-Wan took another sip of his tea, looking out at the garden as if deep in thought.

"What does that mean?" Anakin asked, feeling impatient.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan replied, his voice still infuriatingly calm.

"Don't be cryptic," Anakin accused, leaning back on his bench and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "Do you think you'll be able to help her, or not?"

"I am optimistic," Obi-Wan said, finally turning in Anakin's direction to look him over. "You should be patient with her, Anakin. This was a serious loss for her."

"I know that," Anakin responded, his heart pounding, his anger jumping up a pitch. "I am being patient." Did Obi-Wan think he, Anakin, didn't know what you needed? How could Obi-Wan not see that your well-being was the most important thing in the world? Of course, Obi-Wan couldn't know about your relationship with Anakin...but didn't Obi-Wan realize the importance of keeping you alive, regardless? Didn't Obi-Wan realize how much danger you were in? Anakin took in the posture of his former Master, how calm Obi-Wan seemed, how superior, and felt his frustration grow. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.  

"She's grieving—" Obi-Wan tried, but Anakin cut him off.

"Felucia, Obi-Wan?!" Anakin rasped, his volume increasing. "That wasn't grief!" Anakin recalled again the way you had looked with your body limp, your eyes clouded over, milky white, unable to hear him, trapped in your own suffering.

"I'm looking into it," Obi-Wan responded quietly, lowering his eyes.

"Well, look harder," Anakin said, his breath coming out in a huff. He leaned forward again, looking to Obi-Wan beseechingly. "If she takes command of the 415th, and she doesn't have this under control—"

"If you don't trust her by now," Obi-Wan began, but Anakin cut him off again.

"Of course I trust her! But you know as well as I do—as well as Yuma did—that her gifts are a liability!"

"She is not a liability to the Order—"

"I don't give a kriffing gundark about the Order! I'm talking about her—her life. You need to help her, Obi-Wan. We need to...to find a way to make sure..." Anakin's breathing was heavy. He found himself looking down at his hands, his shoulders moving up and down quickly with his breath. He blinked, his fear overwhelming him.

"We will help her," Obi-Wan said, putting a bracing hand on Anakin's shoulder. "And she will help herself."

You sat, staring into the archive memory, sifting through the holobooks to find what you were looking for. The Temple library was quiet, the atmosphere one of focused attention. Something about it calmed you, but you also found it a bit unnerving, that every bit of galactic knowledge that existed could be found in these very archives.

Your stomach was full for the first time since Felucia; you were sitting upright, able to fight the weight of the grief that had been threatening for days to consume you. You felt exhausted, and sad, but it was a start. And after attending to your needs in the mess hall, you'd come straight here, to the Temple library. Even in the darkest parts of your grief—even when you'd been totally trapped under that weight—you'd known what you needed to do next. You'd been forming your plan. All you had needed was the strength to begin. And, thanks to your training with Obi-Wan, today you'd found it.

You used the controls to pull forth one of the holobooks, and as the holoimages came up, you sat down to focus. You felt yourself getting lost in the text, trying to remember everything. Your focus was so intense that you didn't feel his presence coming until he was right behind you.

"Why are you researching Galactic Sign Language?" Anakin asked, his hand gently stroking your shoulder. Such a small, subtle movement was likely to go unnoticed by those other Jedi in the archives, absorbed as they were in their own research. The sound of his voice made your body electrify—all of the longing, the guilt, and the desire passed through you at once. You shivered.  

"It's a long story," you told him, turning around in your chair to face him full on.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, right as Anakin had said the same thing, leaning in toward you, his eyes wide. You felt the corners of your mouth turn up at the sides, and Anakin's face fell open, his surprise taking away his supplication.

"Me first," you said, getting up out of the chair and shutting off the hologram. As you faced Anakin, you felt through his emotions in the Force, sifting through as if the man in front of you were a different type of archive memory—one that was tangled, passionate, complex, brilliant, and beautiful. His emotions mirrored your own; you felt his guilt, his longing, his love for you. The first and most prominent emotion surrounding his presence was worry, and this made you feel even more guilty.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," you told him quietly, aware of the others milling about the great library. "I'm sorry I took my anger out on you. It's only anger at myself—" Anakin looked as if he were going to cut you off, but you silenced him, holding up your hand. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you at all. Not when you are so kind," you voice grew quieter, "and so loyal, and so patient with me." Your faces were closer together now; if anyone were to look over, they might wonder why you were having such an intense, whispered conversation. "I'm sorry I fell apart," you continued, feeling the hint of the tears pinpricking the corners of your eyes. You pushed through, closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling. "You shouldn't have to worry about me. I won't let it happen again. I promise I'll be here for you. With you."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Anakin said eagerly, acting as if he were about to take your hands in his, and then looking around, thinking better of it. Instead, he surreptitiously reached up and brushed under your eye, stroking away the ghost of the tear that didn't fall. "I shouldn't have said anything about...I shouldn't have assumed I know anything about what it felt like for you, on Felucia."

You nodded, but really, he didn't need to apologize. You'd put your own words into his mouth; it hadn't been a fight between you and Anakin, but one between the warring sides of yourself. And you knew now that you needed to face those warring sides head on, and deal with them before they could manage to hurt anyone else.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said, pulling half of your mouth up in a small smile. Anakin's eyes were stars, on fire, the blue looking like it was burning, like it would melt out into the air.

"Obi-Wan said training went well," Anakin whispered, hopefully, looking around you for a moment before grazing your hand with his.

"I think it did," you whispered back, looking up into his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to take his face in your hands, but you held back. All this secrecy, you thought, might just drive you mad.

"And you'll tell me about your research..." he continued, glancing back at the archive computer behind you.

"Another time," you assured him, looking around again, making sure no one was close enough to overhear while you leaned in closer toward him. "You know that I love you," you breathed. Anakin's face broke into a joyful smile, his body leaning in closer to yours.

"You know," he said quietly so only you could hear him, "that I love you more than all of the books in this archive." He glanced back at the other Jedi, huddled in their research. "And more than all of the stars in the galaxy, and more than all of the galaxies in the universe." Anakin met your gaze, his sorrow gone, his eyes alight and mischievous. You felt the intention in his Force presence, and it made your insides turn over, your breath becoming short.

"And I love you more than whatever lies beyond that," you whispered, smiling up at him, your heart full. Anakin surreptitiously stroked his hand over the top of yours once again.

"Do you have much more research to do?" Anakin asked, his face forming a familiar, cocky smile.

"It can wait," you murmured, smiling and cocking your head as you strode past him toward the doors, gesturing for him to follow.

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

thank you all for being patient with these updates <3 if you are following this story, you and I are besties, that's how it works

let me know if you want to be tagged when I post the next one!

divider credit to @racingairplanes

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[horrorstreet]

Sparring Partner

Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 1,301

Warnings: Fighting

A/N: iv recently gotten realllyy into Starwars so thank you so much for requesting this. Enjoy this fic of these two being awkward together.

Request:

Hellllooo~

Welcome back btw. Hope you are doing well.

I am not a hardcore SW fan BUT I do love the characters. May I request reader being in the jedi training with Kylo (Ben since he wasn't indoctrinated into the First Order yet) and they like to flirt with him during lessons? Maybe like when they are sparing or when he is trying to use the force? I know that Jedi swore celibacy but I am a firm believer of the grey lol and the new gen are more open to relationships. Reader can be gn. If this is too boring just let me know and I can try to cook up something else.

:)

Request sent by: @slasher-smasher

You sat outside with your food in your hand, legs crisscrossed as you looked out on the mountain range in front of you that the planet you were on provided you. It was peaceful on this day, the suns casting a golden hue across the base where you and the other Jedi were training. No one was outside, all in for the night and ready to rest meanwhile you decided to have a late night snack and think to yourself. Being a Jedi was no easy task. In fact, it required the most training you’ve ever experienced. You had to stay focused, zone in and never break that focus once you had it. If you did, it could mean life or death. Not only that, but you had to set aside your personal wants and needs. If someone caught your eye, you had to keep moving. Don’t think about it or threaten breaking the Jedi code…

“Hello..” A deep voice called out to you from behind you. It was breathy and low, spiking your attention. Swallowing the bite you just had in your mouth, you turned around to face who was standing there, knowing exactly who it was. You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hello, Ben.” You answered, moving to the side and patting the ground next to you, signaling for him to sit with you and enjoy the remaining sunlight. “What brings you here? You’re usually first to bed.” You asked, looking back out at the suns as the light slowly faded below the horizon.

“Mmmm.. Couldn’t get comfortable.” He answered, letting out a deep, tension relieving sigh. You nodded your head, setting your bowl of soup to the side before putting both hands in your lap. You snuck a small peak at the man beside you and felt something in your heart flutter. The suns light illuminated his skin perfectly, highlighting his beautiful features in a way that drove your heart and soul mad. He stared out to the horizon, eyes following the curve of the mountains before it went dark, the suns light completely disappearing for the night. He truly was a sight to behold.

“And you?” He asked, looking back at you and catching the look you were giving him. You cleared your throat before looking down at your bowl and picking it up, holding it out in front of you.

“Got hungry again, Gotta eat..” You softly smiled at him for a moment before standing up and brushing your lap off. “We better get back to our rooms. It’s going to get cold soon.” You said to him, holding out a hand. Kylo didn’t hesitate to take it, pulling himself up off the ground and brushing himself off as well. The man nodded as he took one last look off into the distance before looking down at you.

“Yeah.. I will see you in the morning for training.. Sparring partner?” He asked, searching your eyes for an answer before you said anything. With a smile, you nodded your head at him.

“Of course.” You replied, the feeling of his warm hand never leaving yours even after he had let go.

So, you both parted ways, your rooms being on opposite sides. Once you had gotten to your room, you put the bowl to the side and sat down on your bed, pulling the covers out from under your legs and getting underneath, settling in for the night before falling asleep.

“Good morning..” He quietly called out to you, breaking your focus on the sky above you.

──────────────────

The suns rose above the opposing horizon of the planet and you woke up just in time to see it. Setting a blanket outside on the rough, rocky ground outside of your room, you watched as the sky shifted between different beautiful colors and it calmed you. You were safe. No one was after you. You could be you here. Lost in thought, you didn’t seem to notice a particular Ben Solo emerge from his room across from yours. You and him seemed to be the only ones awake at this time.

“You scared me.” You chuckled at him as he walked over and took a seat right next to you, waving his hand at you for you to scoot over and make some room for him which you happily did.

“Why are you up so early?” You asked, looking over at him and his perfectly curly hair.. Was it ever flawed? Probably not.

“I always get up around this time. It’s you that's usually still sleeping.” Ben said with a small smile playing on his lips. You nodded your head, agreeing with the man. He definitely was right… You were never up this early and you didn’t exactly understand why you were up so early yourself. Nevertheless, you pointed at the colorful sky before bringing your hand back down to cup into the other at your lap.

“So, you wake up every morning and see this and never thought to wake me up? This is beautiful.” You joked with the man who shook his head at you before shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, maybe it’s because, the last time I tried, you threw a cup at me and told me to let you sleep.” An embarrassed blush quickly found its way to your cheeks and the tip of your ears.

Kylo stood in front of you with his light-saber raised in front of him, ready for any strike you sent his way. He could tell where you were going to go just from where your eye would quickly glance before you struck. You spun on your feet and aimed for the man's upper thigh, Kylo blocking it right away before countering with a stronger strike, sending a blow to the side of your head which you caught in record time. The light-sabers, green and blue, clashed in a spark and you sent the man a wicked smile.

“Oh yeah.. “ Was all you could get out, shaking your own head in disappointment at your own actions. “If only I knew.” You sighed, looking over at Ben who you had caught staring at you. Once you both made eye contact, the man quickly looked away to look back to the sky which was now a bright pink.

──────────────────

“S’at all you got, Solo?” You teased him, watching as his eyes narrowed, his competitive side getting the better of him. His nostrils flared in frustration and you ran at him, going to sweep low and take his feet out but he saw right through you, jumping away from the attack till you got back to your feet and launching himself right at you. In that moment, you both fought swiftly. So swift, that it looked like nothing but a blur of blue and green as you both moved effortlessly. It was like an intricate dance that you two had memorized…

“Who knew. Here I thought you were just all beauty and no brains, but you actually seem to have some skill hidden somewhere in there.” He teased you right back, the two of you pushed up against one another as the sparks from your light-sabers flew through the air in front of you.

“So, you think I'm beautiful?” You said, trying to play off of what he had just said.

Kylo stuck out his hand and pushed you back using the force before sending a barrage of attacks your way which, in the end, you were too slow to counter. Before you knew it, he had you on your ass, Light-saber pointed at your throat. The tall man smiled down at the sight before him before offering a hand out to you, which you gladly took. Kylo pulled you up to your feet, his smile never leaving his face.

“Of course I do..”

[ithebookhoarder]

Hi love! Could I request an Anakin X reader where he comforts reader after a panic attack?

Reacting to Reader having a panic attack: (Anakin Skywalker x Reader)

A/N: Of course you can! Here you go. You can thank Ahsoka for breaking me and getting me back into my feels for this disaster of a human being 😅

Masterlist:

Anakin is much more a man of action rather than a man of words and will actively look for a practical solution for any problem, including panic attacks.

It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t fully understand them, or that there isn’t necessarily a physical threat that he can fight on your behalf, he will do whatever he can to best help you. 

That would include using his trademark sass and boyish jokes to distract you whenever he senses you’re feeling low (something you both love and hate in equal measure). 

“Hey, Y/N. I was thinking, how does a moon cut his hair?" 

“Anakin… I swear to the maker-"

“-Eclipse it."

It’s easy to see why Obi-Wan started to turn grey the day he took Anakin on as a Padawan. 

Then again, as much as you may protest against it, it’s hard to do anything other than laugh at his desperate attempts to cheer you up. 

Anakin also creates private rituals for you both to follow whenever you feel an attack creeping up on you. 

These include things like going to exercise together, as you find sparring or racing around a local park is a great way to burn off any pent up anxiety (and often leads to you both rolling around on the floor, sweaty and too busy being wrapped up in one another to feel anything other than pleasure). 

It also sometimes involves him taking you aside and helping you to ground yourself to him and your surroundings. 

It even sometimes involves him crawling into bed and holding you whilst you sleep, knowing his warmth and his presence helps to keep your worries at bay. 

On that note, we know he has no problem bending the rules when it comes to those he cares about and you’d be no exception. 

Nothing else in the universe matters more to him and your well-being comes before anything else, including the Jedi code. 

It doesn’t matter if the council will reprimand him later, if you need him he’ll be there. He’d find a ship and get to you the minute you called, or the minute he sensed your panic through the force. 

A smaller thing Anakin would do, is he starts carrying around sour candies for you, knowing how you like them and how they help distract your brain when it starts to feel overwhelmed. 

You almost couldn’t believe it the first time he handed one to you without so much as a word. Instead he simply unwrapped one for himself and winked. 

You also can’t tell me he wouldn’t be keeping a special eye on you, reaching out at the first sign of trouble, just as he sensed his mother’s distress before. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, he’ll call you if he isn’t with you, just to make sure you’re alright. 

Even if it isn’t too bad an attack, he would still pull you from any duties you may have for the rest of your day, insisting you rest for a while even if he has to make you. 

He also strikes me as the kind of friend who tries to act like they’re less stressed out about your issues than you, but inside is panicking like crazy. So much so, he has to instruct Rex and Ahsoka to keep an eye out for you if he can’t, else he’ll be too worried to ever leave your side in case you need him.

He may or may not have written a very extensive list of things to do and not to do if you ever have one without him - something both privately tease him about...

[innammoratta]

Hunter x Jedi Reader Part 1

Warnings: None. (Not yet edited. Please excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings.)

.

The first time you met Clone Force 99 was on Kamino, when you came to visit Shaak Ti. She was like an older sister to you, and after she began overseeing the training of the clones, she offered to give you a tour of the training facility whenever you wished.

After arriving on Kamino, you were just a bit confused about directions. No one came to meet you at the door--with this being a spontaneous visit and all--but you tried your best to navigate through all the corridors, not wanting to look lost as you had the attention of a group of cadets that were passing by. They whispered amongst themselves, curious if a special event or a training session was on the schedule for today. Jedi never came to Kamino without a reason.

Another group suddenly entered the corridor. They wore black and grey with red paint, but what you noticed most besides the unusual paint job was that they were all different shapes and sizes. One of them looked like an absolute unit--super tall, super muscular. You could hear his loud and raspy voice from the other end of the corridor. The few that had their helmets off didn't even look like clones. The one in their group who wore goggles was more lean, less muscular, but taller than the standard clone. But even though you were curious, you had your own agenda to follow through with.

"Excuse me?" Their lively conversation came to a pause and they turned to look as you approached. "Would any of you happen to know where I could find Master Shaak Ti?"

The one most near you took his helmet off. The black tattoo covering half of his face caught you slightly off guard. He didn't look any more like a regular clone than the others. With the tattoo and the red banana wrapped around his forehead, he looked just as decorated as his armor.

The few seconds of eye contact that you hadn't realized passed came to an end as he tried to answer your question. "She-"

"She should be running through battle simulations with the cadet squads right about now," the one with the goggles answered your question before the first soldier had a chance.

"Okay, thank you," you nodded your head in farewell, smiling as your eyes quickly brushed over each member. You made an effort to acknowledge the last one since he had attempted to help you as well.

You turned around but paused before taking another step, realizing you had no idea where the battle simulations took place. Turning around once more, you added, "Um... where is that?" You looked nervously between each member. The fourth clone still had his helmet on, but you could just sense his indifference and the cold gaze he must have been wearing.

"Is this your first time on Kamino?" The clone with the face tattoo asked.

"It is," you nodded with an apologetic expression on your face.

He turned back to the group momentarily, "Go on ahead. I'll meet you all back at the ship."

"Yes sir," the one with goggles replied, then three of them left through the door you had just come in through.

He began walking and you followed. "Allow me to escort you there..." he trailed off, slowing his pace. "Uh... what should I call you?"

"Everyone just calls me Master (L/n). I hold no official position in our military. I do solo missions mostly, and assist wherever I'm needed."

"Pleasure to meet you, Master, (L/n). I'm Hunter. Sergeant Hunter, and back there"--he nodded at the entryway before it disappeared around a corner--"was my squad, Clone Force 99."

"Nice to meet you as well," you smiled. "If you don't mind my asking..."

"You want to know why we don't look like regular clones?"

He's probably asked that question all the time. You nodded.

"We're an experimental force, our different looks are the result of the changes in our DNA." Hunter stopped walking once you both had reached one of the lifts. He pressed a button and when the door opened, he motioned for you to go first.

"Thank you." You entered and took a step back when he followed to press the button for the third level.

As the lift ascended, you continued the conversation. "So... 'mutations;' that would explain why that one guy in group looks like two clones merged into one." You smiled, amused.

"Wrecker," Hunter clarified. "His mutation gave him the strength of a rancor," he joked.

"And the rest of you?"

"Well, Tech, the one with the goggles, would describe his mutation to be his 'exceptional mind.' He knows everything about anything. Then there's Crosshair. He's the best sniper and gunman in the galaxy. His aim is never off." Hunter smiled, enjoying showing off his team.

There was a pause as you expected him to continue, but he didn't.

"What about you?" The lift door opened and after you exited, Hunter lead the way once more.

"My heightened senses. I can sense electromagnetic waves," he said casually.

"How long have you been in action, Sergeant?" You hoped he had caught on with your curious nature, not wanted to seem like you were challenging their experience.

"About a year and a half."

"I would love to see your squad in action one day," you admitted, "to fact check your claims, of course." You felt the need to add a little joke, not wanting your first statement to seem flirtatious. Jedi weren't supposed to be as warm and friendly as you were naturally. Unfortunately, your kindness had earned you unwanted attention in the past.

"You should know, Clone Force 99 has a one-hundred percent success rate." A smooth, accented voice came up from behind you.

"Master Ti," you turned around and smiled.

"(Y/n), you came at the perfect time. I have just finished training the cadets for the day." She then looked to Hunter and greeted him, "Sergeant, I hope your squad is well."

"Yes, Mistress, as always."

"I'm glad to hear." Shaak Ti turned back to you. "Well, (Y/n), shall we begin the tour?"

You nodded before looking up at Hunter and thanking him for going out of his way to help you navigate.

"Anytime, Master (L/n)."

"May the force be with you and your team. I hope you maintain those figures."

There was a moment of silence, and you could see a confused and slightly judgmental look on Shaak Ti's face in your peripheral vision. Even Hunter was silent.

Blood rushed to your head and you were sure your face was red with embarrassment when you realized what it sounded like. "I meant your statistics. Your averages. Your one-hundred percent success rate!"

Hunter said nothing, but the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. "I figured," he took a few steps back, preparing to leave. "We will do our best to maintain both of those things. I hope your time on Kamino is enjoyable," and with that last goodbye, he left to return to his team.

You covered your face with your hands, but Shaak Ti could see your body shake with laughter. A few seconds later, when your hands came down, she saw actual tears in your eyes. "That was so embarrassing," you whispered in between breaths.

"Oh, (Y/n)..." she shook her head, "always a pleasure."

[queenofnightdreamland]

Blue & Grey. Capítulo 36

Warnings/Advertencias: canon divergence, violencia típica del canon, ni idea que más...

Pareja: Obi-Wan Kenobi x jedi! fem!reader

Word count: 2.6 K

Simbología: ⎯ ⁘✦⁘⎯ (espacio temporal largo), ⎯ ✦ ⎯ (espacio temporal corto), "abcd..." (visión de la fuerza), "abcd..." (pensamientos), “abcd…” (pensamientos enviados a través de la fuerza), <<abcd…>> (mensajes datapad), °abcd...° (recuerdos).

Nota autor: perdón por la desaparición temporal, tuve un bloqueo de escritor terrible y demasiados deberes, pero regresé con un capítulo corto. Espero lo disfruten.

Anterior / Siguiente

Masterlist Blue & Grey

◞────────⊰·•·⊱────────◟

Despertaste nuevamente con una sensación de tranquilidad completa, la respiración de Obi-Wan contra tu cuello te sacó una sonrisa. La única diferencia que había ahora con respecto a la vez anterior era que sus brazos te rodeaban con seguridad y los sentimientos del uno por el otro estaban allí, admitidos y aceptados. No más sentimientos secretos, no más culpabilidad por parte tuya por sentir algo que era parte de la misma esencia de la vida, sin embargo, todavía había algo que no querías aceptar. Ese collar que habías recibido hace poco y te pesaba en el pecho, aunque el material que habían utilizado para su elaboración fuese completamente liviano.

Cuando Obi-Wan despertó se encontró rodeado de un aroma demasiado agradable, entreabrió los ojos y se encontró con la piel de tu cuello cubierta por varios mechones de cabello. Percibió que estaba abrazándote y te acercó a su cuerpo con un ligero tirón, al inspirar profundamente intentando despertarse descubrió que el aroma que lo rodeaba era completamente tuyo. Era una mezcla de flores exóticas con algo más que no lograba encontrar, un olor único que nunca había encontrado en ningún otro lado de la galaxia. Era cien por ciento tú.

- ¿Descansaste?

-Mejor que hace días.

-Me alegro – respondiste antes de voltearte entre sus brazos.

Inclinó su cabeza para atrapar tus labios entre los suyos, correspondiste el beso con la misma paciencia y se podría decir que la pereza de tener que levantarse. Te volteó un poco para colocarse sobre tu cuerpo sin dejar tus labios en libertad, justo cuando profundizó el beso el comunicador de ambos sonó separándolos.

-Responde aquí, iré al refresco – respondes un poco molesta.

Tomaste tu comunicador y corriste al refresco para responder – Starlight.

-Reunión del consejo en treinta minutos – escuchas la voz robótica.

-Entendido.

Saliste del refresco con una expresión que hizo reír a Obi-Wan quién ya se había colocado la túnica, el cinturón y las botas como si no las hubiese retirado para dormir.

- ¿No quieres ir a la reunión?

-Estaba demasiado cómoda en la cama, así que sí, no quería ir.

-Nos vemos en treinta minutos, estrella – murmura y te besó los labios rápidamente.

-Nos vemos, Obi.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

El giro de los acontecimientos era realmente inesperado. Podrías haber esperado recibir noticias de que capturaron a cualquier otro maestro jedi antes que Even Piell, estabas completamente sorprendida. La reunión del consejo fue igual de aburrida que siempre, pero esta reunión, después de almuerzo era una de las cosas más estresantes que habías encontrado en ese día.

Por otro lado, no te sentías muy bien, todavía la muerte de tu padre y de tu hermano estaban demasiado frescas en tu memoria; pero regresábamos a lo mismo. Estabas posando como un jedi de la República en medio de una guerra, estaba más que claro que no podrías llorar a tu padre como querías y como lo dictaban las tradiciones de la Orden Gris.

-Perdonen, generales – escuchas a Rex preguntar, lo que devolvió tu atención a la reunión donde se encontraban, Plo, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Rex, Cody, Xyón y tú – ¿Cómo saben que el maestro Piell sigue con vida?

-Porque los Separatistas no lo van a matar hasta que consigan lo que quieren – respondes para regresar de forma activa a la reunión. Sabías, por la ligera caricia en tu mente, que Obi-Wan estaba consciente que había algo que te tenía desconcentrada pero no te presionaba y por eso le estabas completamente agradecida.

-Obtuvo las coordenadas de una ruta secreta en el hiperespacio conocida como la Ruta Nexus, que cruza el corazón de los planetas principales tanto de la República como de los Separatistas – agrega Plo.

-Una ruta vital para llevar nuestras fuerzas a sectores separatistas remotos – también interviene Obi-Wan.

-O el enemigo podría evadir nuestras defensas y atacar Coursant – termina por agregar Anakin.

-Esa ruta del hiperespacio es de enorme interés para ambos lados, y podría darle una ventaja enorme al bando que lo controle – agregas nuevamente

-Eso sería todo – anuncia Plo dando por terminada la reunión.

Los cuatro comenzaron a caminar por los pasillos con tranquilidad mientras continuaban afinando los planes.

-Basados en la información de los archivos, tenemos tres posibles ubicaciones donde podrían tenerlo.

-Lo que más me preocupa es cómo burlaremos la seguridad exterior – interviene Obi-Wan y asentiste, no necesitabas externalizar tus dudas para saber que ambos compartían puntos de vista en muchas cosas. En especial con múltiples aspectos relacionados con la misión del rescate del maestro Piell –. No será nada fácil evadir sus sensores vitales.

-Ya tengo pensado eso – escuchas a Anakin decir y no supiste si sentirte aliviada o espantada.

- ¡Maestro! Lamento llegar tarde – escuchas a Ahsoka decir apresurada –. Acabo de enterarme de la reunión. Rescataremos al maestro Piell ¿no es así?

-Creo que ustedes dos tienen mucho que discutir – señala Plo y tanto tú como Obi-Wan se voltearon a observarlo, él con una expresión burlista y tú con una ligera diversión, porque sabías que de haber dejado por fuera a Viorica en esta misión posiblemente tendrías una discusión muy seria con ella para que aceptara no acompañarlos.

-Encuentro su diversión hacia la situación de Skywalker, un poco interesante – escuchas a Plo y Obi-Wan dejó escapar una sonrisa

-Bueno, sólo me recordó a mi padawan, que su misión me ha ahorrado muchos dolores de cabeza – admites y Obi-Wan dejó escapar una risita

-Ciertamente, su interés en política la ha tenido lejos de Coursant por varios días.

-Y es un alivio para mí, pero no tengo idea de si la Senadora Amidala esté soportándolo tan bien.

Plo comenzó a reír y negó – Los dejo, maestros, debo terminar un par de arreglos. Los veo en un par de horas en el punto acordado.

-Claro que sí, maestro Plo – respondes y ambos lo reverenciaron un poco antes de tomar un giro hacia el pasillo que guiaba a los dormitorios.

-Ven conmigo – pide Obi-Wan y lo seguiste por los pasillos hasta el dormitorio del hombre.

Ambos entraron rápidamente y él cerró la puerta antes de capturar tus labios en un beso bastante demandante. Tus sentidos se nublaron por las sensaciones que te recorrieron al ser besada de tal manera por el jedi que tantos respetaban y básicamente adoraban. Alguien que había jurado no romper el código jedi y allí estaba, besándote sin el más ligero reparo dejando tu mente en blanco.

-Obi… ¿qué?

-Necesitaba hacerlo, ¿te molestó?

Dejaste escapar una ligera risa antes de negar – ¿Cómo piensas que tus besos podrían molestarme? Estoy un poco sorprendida, solamente.

Sentiste sus manos sujetarte con firmeza por la cintura antes de que ocultara su rostro en tu cuello, a lo que correspondiste con un abrazo – Algo sucedió en esa misión, también entiendo que no quieras decírmelo, pero quiero que sepas que estaré para ti siempre.

Sentiste las lágrimas agruparse en tus ojos y asentiste – Gracias, no sé si tendré el valor de hacerlo. Pero lo valoro de una forma profunda.

-Tengo un presentimiento extraño, Y/N, no sé si es la misión o algo que sucederá en el futuro

- ¿Te has sentido así antes?

-Sólo cuando ocurrió el bloqueo en Naboo, y en ese entonces perdí a mi maestro… Temo por tu vida, no sé con lo que podremos encontrarnos en la Ciudadela.

-No nos va a ocurrir nada, Obi… Estoy segura de eso, pero puede que no todo salga de acuerdo con el plan.

-Quisiera que sí saliera de acuerdo con lo que planeamos, por una vez en la vida.

-Ya somos dos – admites y le besas la comisura de los labios antes de besarlo rápidamente en los labiod al no poder resistirte –. Pero primero tendremos que ver qué sorpresa preparó Anakin para entrar a la Ciudadela sin que nos detecten ¿no crees?

Dejó escapar un suspiro antes de rodar los ojos – Esto es lo que más me temo, Anakin tiende a planear cosas demasiado alocadas.

-Estaremos bien, ¿no?

-Sí, lo estaremos. Especialmente si estás a mi lado – dijo y te besó la mejilla antes de permitir que comenzaras a salir de la habitación hacia el pasillo.

Una vez fuera dejaron sus manos libres para evitar levantar sospechas de los demás.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Cómo detestabas que Anakin hiciera planes, en especial cuando esos planes tenían razón y lógica. Pero se congelados en carbonita no era lo que pudieses describir como agradable.

-Hay demasiados efectos secundarios al salir de la carbonita como para usarla en una misión tan importante – señalas un poco molesta

-Relájate, Starlight, no será mucho tiempo. Estaremos bien – responde Anakin con tono burlista.

-Si de algo sirve, general, no es la única que se siente insegura por la elección – escuchas a Rex mencionar mientras los seguía a los lugares donde los congelarían.

Detestabas la sensación, ya habías estado en carbonita para una misión previa a tu incursión a la orden jedi y no había sido nada agradable. Aunque deberías darle el beneficio de la duda, podría ser que el método de conservación en carbonita hubiese mejorado en casi veinte años.

-Relájense, nos descongelarán apenas lleguemos al lugar – escuchas a Obi-Wan y sólo lograste fruncir el ceño.

La plataforma bajó y cerraste los ojos mientras inspirabas con intensión de relajarte. No querías quedar congelada con una expresión de pánico, no sería nada agradable escuchar a Anakin mencionar algo si llegaba a verlo.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sentiste el aire regresar a tus pulmones de golpe, tus piernas casi no soportaron tu peso y para tu suerte un par de brazos detuvieron tu caída.

-Obi, gracias.

-Hola, sabionda – escuchas a Anakin decir y ambos se miraron extrañados

“¿Ahsoka?”

-Hola maestro.

-Creo que debemos seguir congelados, porque podría jurar que esa es Ahsoka ¿no es así, Y/N? – interviene Obi-Wan rotando sus hombros mientras hacías lo mismo, definitivamente no querías volver a ser congelada en carbonita en tu vida.

-Claro, juraría que Anakin no le había permitido venir en la misión.

Anakin rodó los ojos antes de dejar escapar un suspiro – Los ojos de ambos están bien. Lo que está fallando es la capacidad auditiva de Ahsoka.

-Recibí ordenes de unirme al equipo. Creí que lo sabías – admite ella

- ¿Órdenes? ¿De quién?

-Lo discutí con el maestro Plo.

-Él no me dijo nada

-Porque ya estabas congelado – escuchas a Ahsoka y no pudiste aguantar la risa que escapó de tus labios, lo que se ganó una mirada de ligero odio por parte de Anakin.

-Pues, ¡yo te dije específicamente que no vinieras!

-Si he aprendido una cosa de ti, maestro, es que obedecer órdenes directas no siempre es la mejor forma de resolver un problema – volviste a dejar escapar la risa y observaste a Obi-Wan voltearse luego de conversar con los clones.

-Veo que tu nuevo método de enseñanza es hacer lo que ordenas, no poner el ejemplo. Bienvenida, Ahsoka – añade Obi-Wan mientras luchabas por contener la carcajada.

Comenzaron a caminar hacia el risco, observaste a Anakin arrodillarse y sacar unos electrobinoculares. Obi-Wan se mantenía a tu lado izquierdo, Ahsoka a tu derecho y el resto de los clones los rodeaban.

-Veo el punto de entrada – señala él.

-Tenía razón – escuchas a Cody –. Las condiciones del viento no nos permite usar propulsores.

-Sí, tendremos que utilizar el método tradicional – escuchas a Obi-Wan responder –. Con cables de ascensión y ganchos de acero.

-No lo creo – responde Anakin con sorna

- ¿A qué te refieres? – preguntas, confundida

-Electrominas. No hay donde poner un gancho a esa altura. Y si tocamos una de esas nuestra misión terminará. Nos descubrirán – responde y le entrega los electrobinoculares a Obi-Wan, que tenía más cerca.

-En ese caso, supongo que tendremos que escalar sin equipo – responde Rex y tú suspiraste. No eras muy fan de escalar, mucho menos sin equipo.

Anakin te observó divertido, casi disfrutando de saber tu aversión a escalar y Obi-Wan, en cambio te observó de una forma similar a una disculpa. Todos comenzaron a caminar hasta encontrar un lugar donde pudiesen comenzar a escalar hasta la entrada.

-Quédate cerca, sé que no te gusta escalar – murmura y asentiste

-Gracias, Obi.

Los primeros minutos en la pared no fueron tan malos, hasta que comenzaron a subir por la gran extensión de roca y el viento comenzó a golpear más fuerte. Realmente detestabas escalar, sin embargo, agradecías profundamente los guantes que tendías a utilizar porque de otra forma tendrías los dedos en carne viva por la aspereza de las piedras.

Tu pie izquierdo resbaló un poco provocando que te sujetaras con más fuerza de las piedras donde tenías apoyadas las manos pegando tu cuerpo contra la piedra mientras buscabas nuevamente el apoyo de tu pie. Luchaste por un par de segundos que desde tu punto de vista parecieron minutos antes de volver a continuar con el ritmo.

Al levantar la mirada te encontraste con que Obi-Wan había pasado un par de metros por arriba en los segundos que perdiste. Negaste un poco nerviosa y continuaste escalando, mano, pie, mano, pie; te repetías las palabras mientras movías cada uno de los miembros para continuar escalando. ¿Acaso no sería una pena que cayeras y en un futuro cuando los miembros de la Orden Gris preguntaran qué fue de la maestra Starlight durante su misión, dijesen que perdió la vida escalando una pared de roca? Risible, y tremendamente penoso.

-El punto de entrada está a solo unos metros – escuchas a Obi-Wan decir y casi podías sentir el alivio.

Al llegar a una saliente de piedra lo observaste desplazarse con facilidad sobre las rocas y sujetarse del saliente de la entrada. Lo seguiste con facilidad y al sujetarte del borde observaste la mano del jedi antes de tomarla. Subiste con facilidad gracias a la ayuda de Obi-Wan, pero ambos se dejaron caer nuevamente al escuchar pasos por el pasillo.

Lo miraste y pediste silencio, a lo que Anakin pidió que todos se detuviesen un minuto. Tenías las manos sudadas y la piedra del saliente de la entrada no te ayudaba en lo absoluto. Volviste a resbalar, a lo que lograste reaccionar a sujetarte de lo primero que encontraste agarre y al descubrir que se trataba del torso de Obi-Wan no querías siquiera pensar en la mala vida que te daría Anakin, casi podías sentir su mirada intensa sobre tu espalda.

-Sube, ya se fueron – escuchas a Obi-Wan decir, a lo que respondiste buscando apoyo y moviéndote con ayuda de la fuerza hasta subir

-Cerraron la puerta con un rayo escudo – respondes asomando la cabeza por el borde

- ¿Rayo escudo? Ese no era el plan – escuchas a Anakin murmuras molesto

-Bueno, pues ahora está en el plan – escuchas a Obi-Wan responder

En esta ocasión lo ayudaste a subir mientras escuchaste a Ahsoka hablar.

-Hay una abertura allá arriba.

-Lo sabemos, son los ductos de ventilación, pero son demasiado pequeños para permitirnos pasar – responde Anakin y levantaste la mirada, por más pequeña que fueses en comparación con los clones, Obi-Wan o Anakin, tampoco podías pasar por allí, pero Ahsoka…

-Demasiado pequeño para nosotros, tal vez, pero Ahsoka tal vez pueda pasar por ellos – respondes

-Bueno, no planeamos que Ahsoka estuviese con nosotros. Es una buena idea – responde Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka subió con rapidez por la pared hasta el ducto de ventilación y para el alivio de todos logró pasar. Una vez dentro abrió la puerta y mientras Anakin entraba tu y Obi-Wan se mantuvieron ayudando a los clones a subir. Al voltearte para felicitar a Ahsoka escuchaste un grito y observaste justo el momento en que Charger chocaba con la electromina y esta explotaba.

-Bueno, ya saben que estamos aquí – murmura Obi-Wan.

-Debemos apresurarnos – respondes

[fakegingerrights]

Shades of Blue

[Rex x Fem!Medic!reader. Soulmate AU, multiple kinds but Rex's happens to be colorblindness until your soulmate touches you. Warnings: Violence, Injury and Gore, Nonsexual Partial nudity, Angst. Inspired by @mandos-mind-trick series.]

Soulmates weren't rare by any means. In fact, Rex would even go as far as to say that it was more rare not to have a soulmate than to have one.

The numbers were a little different when it came to clones. Many didn't live long enough to meet a member of another species, let alone form a relationship with them.

Rex wasn't so lucky.

He had adapted well to his colorblindness, his batchmates covered for him until he learned to tell the subtle differences between shades of grey. He learned that the red wires in a droid popper were always the thicker wires, he learned that the stun power packs and the regular power packs for the training blasters were different weights.

After Kamino, he learned even more. Blue paint smelled slightly different than red. Poisonous plants usually had some sort of easily recognizable pattern, but always be careful with what you touch.

Joining the 501st was a bit of a culture shock. General Skywalker took a liking to him immediately and decided he didn't want another clone to be in charge, promoting him to Captain. Kamino had forbade he become a commander, despite the command training. The blond hair and the fact that he had a soulmate kept him from advancing, he would have stayed a trooper if it weren't for Skywalker.

He was sure he'd die a newly promoted captain when Skywalker found out about his soulmate. Skywalker just grinned.

"I remember waiting for my own colors, not that there was much to see on Tatooine." Was all he said, patting Rex on the shoulder and walking away, leaving Rex dumbfounded in his wake.

"Sir?" His voice was slightly more strangled than he would have liked, calling after Skywalker. Skywalker laughed, but disappeared around a corner.

Rex waited in fear for the demotion, the notice he was sent back to Kamino, anything to do with his defect. Instead, he found battle maps more clearly labeled, he found medical supplies color coded yes but with shapes to go with the colors now. Rex found the paint cans labeled with careful Aurabesh, in Skywalker's messy handwriting, each individual color and what they were used for. The reds and golds for the jedi starfighters. The blues of the battalion.

That was how Rex learned his armor was blue. He asked Skywalker about it, in the long missions in orbit or the days spent in hyperspace.

"What's Blue, general?" He asked, looking at the newly done Jaig eyes on his helmet. "That's our armor, right? Blue accents?"

"Yep." Skywalker was currently elbow deep in his starfighter, something he insisted was 'relaxing' but had Rex on standby in case he got stuck or something. "Blue, huh? Blue is... Blue is Family." Skywalker settled on eventually. "That's the color of Mine and Obi-Wan's lightsabers, and all of your brothers have blue armor, and you were trained by Alpha 17, who had blue armor too." The jedi grunted as he untangled a ball of wire from the engine.

"Family? I thought Red was what people used for family..." He traced the fresh cut talleys into the paint on his vambrace. One for every tactical droid they took out planetside.

"Red? Eh, I guess you could... Red is blood. Adrenaline. Fire is red. Passion. Dooku and the other sith have Red sabers. You're mandalorian, right? Or... kinda, Half mando?" Skywalker yanked a piece of frayed wire out of the messy ball.

"I... I speak the language, and know the culture intimately, but I have no clan to call my own." Rex supplied. "Red, on armor at least, is for honoring a parent or a family member."

"Yeah, I can see that... But blue is more alive than red. I don't know how to explain it. It's the color of most unpolluted skies. It's the color of water, and that's a rarity for so many people. Kamino is mostly blues and greys and blacks. On Tatooine, we fought for the color blue. Water was so precious in the desert. When I met my soulmate, she was wearing blue." Skywalker gets a goofy grin on his face.

"You kept your soulmate bond, sir?" Rex asked. Skywalker sat up out of the belly of the fighter.

"I did. We agreed it would be more beneficial to both parties to keep it. Pass me that wrench, would you?"

And that was the end of that conversation.

The next time Rex thought about his soulmate, he was meeting the natborn medic assigned to Torrent company to help take the load off of Kix and Coric so they could 'spend more time actually doing their job of fighting rather than running around trying to keep everyone else alive.'

Rex really disliked natborns sometimes. He was fully prepared to dislike you too. That is, until he actually met you.

"Captain Rex, right?" You asked, holding out a gloved hand to shake his as he gave you a once over, appreciating the light armor you were wearing and the utility belt full of equipment. Rex smiled as you gave your name.

"Glad to have you, Doc. You've already met Coric and his junior officer Kix?" Rex asked. You nodded.

"I'm all settled in and ready to go too, wherever you need me, Sir." You saluted sharply at him. "I'm really impressed with the organization levels here. Everything is labeled so neatly I forget I can't see the colors yet." Kix coughed awkwardly as he interjected himself into the conversation.

"As hard as Kaminoans tried, they couldn't find a way to remove soul-bonds from us clones. Not all of us have one, and like anyone else we have different ones, but a few of us are color-bound to our mate. Coric is one of them, and he doesn't let it slow him down at all. Neither does the captain here." Kix clarifies. Rex gave him a look. "What? She's not gonna tell anyone. Right?"

You paled, waving your hands for emphasis. "No! I would never want to get anyone in trouble. If... what's the word you use for us? If natborn officers can have them you should too. My lips are sealed, promise." You met each of their eyes and they both relaxed an almost imperceptible amount.

Rex gave you a slight smile. "Let's get you acquainted with the other men, shall we? You're assigned to my company and trust me, you're gonna have a heck of a time getting us in to the medbay."

You gave him a cheshire grin. "Is that a challenge, Captain?"

~~~

You got to work quickly, as the men prepped and drilled for planetside deployment to Christophsis, you were right there, training your body to hold more supplies, to get to wounded faster. Every extra second shaved off your mile run was a life saved, you told yourself. Every time you got out of a sim to see a faster time, you smiled.

Even Kix was impressed.

"You're working yourself to the bone, Doc. You're already here, what are you trying to prove?" He asks, handing you a water bottle as you finish a set in the weight room.

"Prove? I'm working side by side with genetic perfection. And somebody's gotta make sure y'all don't go and get yourself killed." You took the bottle and sipped at it slowly, sitting up. Kix just shrugged and continued to spot you while you worked.

After Christophsis, and later Teth, he said nothing more about it. His cheerful, joking manner was replaced by quiet competency and a determination to see as many brothers as he could to the end of the war.

You sat with him when Coric caught a blaster bolt in the neck, and there was nothing either of you could do. With a choking softness in his voice, he looked at you.

"How? How is he dead?" The words brought a fresh wave of pain.

"Internal decapitation. The bolt went right through his spinal column. He was dead before he hit the ground." You intoned into the heavy silence. Kix shook his head and sat back from where the two of you had been sitting side by side on the empty surgery table, already scrubbed of blood from the day's activities and ready to be packed up when Torrent was dispatched back to the Resolute tomorrow morning.

You frowned, confused, as Kix stripped off the upper part of his blacks and turned so you could see his back. You had seen him shirtless before, in passing glances. You knew about the soulmark scrawled between his shoulderblades, the words in beautiful cursive and splashed with several different hues from what you could tell. You had never bothered to look at the words, but you did now.

Kix, as in Coric's little brother Kix?

Your heart broke a little. "Kix... Kix look at me." You reached up and pressed a hand to either side of his face. Misty eyes, tired and lost and so utterly broken, stared up at you. "We have soulmate bonds for a reason, ok? You can't break the bond until you've met the person." You pulled him into a hug, letting him hide his face in your neck as he struggled to come to terms with his grief of losing a brother. "You'll meet them one day, Kix. I know it. It'll be alright. Coric met his soulmate a few months ago, do we have anything to give to her?"

Kix let himself have a few more moments of just being in the presence of another person who cared. Who understood.

"He had a necklace she had given him... and his gauntlets. I have both. Do you want to come with Rex and I when we give them to her?" Kix asked softly. You nodded, a pit forming in your stomach at the idea of the next shore leave. You and Coric were close, and had met his soulmate a handful of times last time you were on Coruscant.

"Yeah. Let me go grab some stuff, ok? Then we need to head to bed." You got up to leave the room right as a knock sounded on the door.

"Doc, Kix, you in there?" Rex's voice came from the hall as Kix hurriedly tugged on his shirt again.

"Yeah, we're here." You called as he stepped in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt I need casualty counts from the wounded after battle." The captain rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Oh. I have those." Kix left the room in a hurry, and as you caught a glimpse of his back, adorned with the republic symbol and making it very obvious the top of his blacks were on backwards. Rex may have been colorblind but he was stupid observant when he needed to be.

He often needed to be in a warzone.

"Doc." Rex nodded at you in greeting after Kix had left.

"Captain. Been a helluva day, hasn't it." You sit down again on the floor, leaning your head against the wall behind you. "We lost Coric. He met his soulmate not to long ago. We're looking for his personal stuff to give back to her."

Rex sighed softly. A ache all of them felt for their brother's soulmate but few brothers lived long enough to know first hand.

"What about you and Kix?" Rex asked, taking a seat next to you. His plastoid plates click as he settles himself on the ground. "Has your world-" He made a gesture to his eyes with his hands. You laughed bitterly.

"Me and Kix? That would make things a lot simpler wouldn't it. No. I... It's his story to share. His soulmate apparently knew Coric by name." Rex took a deep breath.

"Yeah, yeah that would make sense. I'm sorry I assumed." He shrugged a little in his armor.

You sighed. "You?" You asked, looking at him. Rex ran a gloved hand over his pale hair.

"No. I... No. It's not I go around grabbing people anyways." He laughed humorlessly.

"Maybe we'll get lucky one day, you and I." You said softly. "Find our person. The Maker... Force... Universe, whatever, wouldn't give us another half unless we'd meet them." You looked at him, tracing the monotone contours of his armor.

"Yeah? What if we end up like poor Coric?" Rex sighed. "You... you get it. Even for a natborn, you eat with us, sleep with us, you know us. We're... not made for long term use. I don't want to leave anyone behind."

You hummed, not really saying anything. The two of you sat in silence for a long moment before Rex hauled himself to his feet, offering you a hand. You clasped his hand, latex glove on the blacks that covered his palm.

"We're gonna need rest for tomorrow. It'll be an exhausting day."

You couldn't agree more.

~~~

You cradled Coric's helmet as Rex knocked on the door of Coric's girlfriend's door. You recognized her instantly when she opened it, a dark skinned twi'lek with pale tattoos.

"Uh.. Good evening, Sirs?" She asked, a tremble in her voice. You took your cue to step forward, presenting Coric's helmet.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am. There was nothing we could do."

Her face crumpled as she took the helmet. "I... I know. I felt it." She whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Kix stepped forward too, placing a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into his touch.

"I'm so sorry Ma'am, I have his necklace and vambraces here for you too." Her head whipped up to look at Kix, tearstained and wide eyed. Rex nudged him.

"Kix..."

The Twi'lek shook her head, dropping Coric's helmet with a clatter. "Kix... as in Coric's little brother Kix?" She asked, barely waiting for Kix's stunned nod before she pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry about your brother." She whispered, and Kix just shook his head, a bitter laugh bubbling out of his throat.

"I'm sorry about your soulmate."

You put a hand on Rex's shoulder opposite of his pauldron. "C'mon, Captain, let me buy you a drink while they adjust to each other's presence." You murmured low enough for him to hear. Rex glanced back at the two, Kix now also in tears and not letting go of the poor girl, who was sobbing into his chestplate.

The two of you walked in thick silence, the 79's a few blocks down from Kix's soulmate's apartment. Rex stopped short at the entrance of the bar.

"I... I'm usually not one for clubbing. Too many people." He hedged. You gave him a reassuring smile.

"We'll just grab a seat in the back then?" You propose. Rex still looked hesitant, but nodded after a moment. You insisted on buying drinks since Rex hated spending his small stipend on something like alcohol. As you two waited, him watching the crowd and you sneaking glances at him.

He was beautiful, in the black and white shades that made up your reality. All the clones were, but he stood out to you. You flushed slightly as he caught you staring.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked. You laughed and shook your head.

"I... you're gonna laugh." You said, looking at the table and tracing the grain with a finger tip.

"Did I do something stupid?" Rex asked, giving you a wry look. You snorted.

"No, no you haven't. You not the kind to make stupidity a habit. I was wondering what color your hair was." You blurted out. Rex groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm still the same stock as Fives, gotta make sure he's not rubbing off." He took a sip of his spotchka, mouth twisting slightly until the tang settled into a pleasant burn in his throat. "My hair is blond, according to Skywalker. A yellowish color. Everyone else's' is black or dark brown."

You took a drink yourself, coughing at the taste. "Ok, that is awful." Rex snorted.

"That's the point. Don't worry, I'll getcha back to the barracks." He promised, a fond smile flitting across his face.

"Going soft on me, Captain?" You asked.

"For you? The entire GAR is soft. You could probably get Fox to take a nap by batting your eyes." Rex chuckled. You swatted at his arm, hand bouncing off his armor.

"Hush. If rumors about you are true I'll be hauling you to the barracks rather than the other way around, lightweight."

Rex just took another drink to spite you.

~~~

The last place for healing that you would expect to take place is on the Battlefield, but here you are ducking and covering between the rounds of rocket mortars.

Explosions shook the ground, and everything hazed out around the edges as you in grey smoke and black soot. Dark blood stained your body and none of it was yours. You heard the shout Kix gave when it happened, but he was too busy to react.

"The Captain's down!" The roar went up among the men and you weren't one to hesitate, springing into action to cross the four hundred meters between you and the Captain. Rex was holding his side and gasping, frighteningly still. Blood, dark and thick as oil spilled from the gash on the left side of his chest in spurts.

You instantly were yelling orders, trying to get a perimeter set up around the two of you as you pried the captain's helmet off so he wasn't gasping through his respirator.

His breathing was ragged, his lips chapped and cracked, eyes hazy as your gloved hand brushed dust off his face.

"Stay with me, Rex. You're not allowed to die on me yet." You yelled above the din so he could hear. He gave you the barest hint of a nod, if not the the intensity in his eyes you would have thought it a spasm.

You pried his chestplate off, plackart coming with it as you inspected the damage. You couldn't tell if the piece of debris that had done this had punctured more than a lung, you felt up under his jaw for a pulse but there wasn't one you could surely feel with your gloves.

You yanked one off with your teeth, jamming it under his chin as you tried to get a read of what was going on with his heart.

Rex gasped under you, eyes going out of focus as you gritted your teeth and counted the beats to make sure he wasn't in danger of a puncture in his heart.

You kept pressure on the wound, wincing as his broken ribs creaked under your hands, red seeping out-

Oh.

Oh Kriff.

You laughed slightly hysterically as you gave him a stim to help with the bleeding and pain, spraying bacta over the wound. "You seeing this, Captain?" You asked. Rex's blood was vibrant across your hands, sending a painful twist through your stomach. The stripes, the blue stripes, in his armor was almost completely covered by golden-brown dirt and red blood and black soot. Even the greys and blacks looked more life-like, vibrant and real.

Rex's eyes held a dreamlike haze to them as an explosion, brilliant gold, flashed over head. He was drifting slightly in and out of consciousness as you worked, eyes wandering in silent wonder at this new reality. Red blood. Dusty armor. Gold fire. And high high above this messy battle was blue sky.

Blue.

It was the color of your armor, strong steady hands bandaging the wound and keeping pressure.

It was the color of his own shattered plating.

It was the color of the sky. Freedom

Rex could see now why Skywalker called blue Family. The two felt remarkably similar.

"ey-.... Hey!" You patted his cheek until his eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on you. He didn't remember closing them. "Hang on, Rex. Medevac is coming, we're getting you out of here and pulling a tactical retreat." You yelled, brushing some dust off his face. His eyes followed your blurry form, suddenly snapping into focus. You gave him a lopsided smile.

"There you are. Hang on, Cyare." The clone word of endearment fell from your lips so naturally. "You aren't leaving anybody behind yet." Rex tried to talk, his breath coming out in a raspy gasp. You shook your head. "Save your breath. Ok."

Rex managed a nod, fumbling with his right hand to grasp your arm, squeezing twice. You nod.

"I'll be there when you wake up, Captain. Promise." There was a roar above your heads and a LAAT/i dropped down right in front of you two, and you lunged to get a gurney prepped as blasterfire splashed around you. A clone Rex didn't recognize lifted him, careful not to disturb the bactapatching on his side.

He listened with half a mind to your chattering as your bare hand brushed his head, fingers playing over his gold, you told him, hair. Rex fought to keep his eyes open, trying to obey and stay awake until he felt the shift in his stomach that meant artificial gravity had kicked in and they were on the Resolute once more.

"Ok, Rex. You can sleep now. You're in the clear now." Your soft voice finally said, and he went out like a candle in the wind.

~~~

You paced the medbay, forcing yourself not to spend too much time gawking at the vibrancy of everything. You could do that properly when Rex was awake. Currently, Kix was taking him out of a bacta tank and he was set to wake up in a few minutes but those few minutes felt like hours.

Your head snapped around as Kix stepped out, fond exasperation written across his face.

“He’s been asking for you since I took the tube out of his throat.” Kix stepped aside and let you into the small room, then shut the door to give you some privacy.

Rex was watching the heart monitor in it’s different colors with rapt fascination until you made your presence known, leaning against the rails of his gurney.

“Hey.” You murmured, looking him over and deciding he looked much better when he wasn’t covered in blood and dirt. Deep bronze skin, amber-gold eyes and white-gold hair made for a stunning figure. “We… certainly danced around this for a while.”

He laughed, a hoarse, grating sound that still made you smile. His left hand fumbled a bit until you slipped yours in it. His thumb slipped back and forth across your knuckles.

“I had hoped.” Rex whispered. “Stupid armor.”

You laughed, swatting at his shoulder gently. “Your armor keeps you alive. So what if it caused a little delay. We’re together now.” You said the last phrase with some trepidation. Rex nodded instantly.

“We weren’t made to be apart, Mesh’la.” You squeezed his hand tightly at his words.

“Rex? I’m scared.” You whispered. Rex struggled to push himself up into a more proper sitting position, recently severed and healed muscles protesting. He waved away your concern and lowered the rail on the bed.

“Me too. I don’t want to give this up though.” He murmured. "How are we going to do this?" Rex looked at you and for a second you were lost in his eyes, admiring every little fractal of color.

"Like anything with uncertain terrain, one day at a time, Captain." You murmured.

"Rex." He corrected you. "Call me Rex. I want to be more than just a title to you."

You lifted your clasped hands and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. "You've always been more than that." Rex looked at you like you had hung the hyperspace lanes just for him. "Rex, you're my other half. We'll be fine together."

"Promise?" He whispered, seeming to tire and letting himself slide against the pillows. You squeezed his hand tight.

"I promise. Go to sleep, Rex." You stood up, to leave him in peace but he caught your hand.

"Stay, Mesh'la." And you couldn't say no. You let go of his hand and had him scoot over, making sure you stayed on his uninjured side as you curled up next to him on the bunk, resting your head on his chest and listening to his slow, steady heartbeat. A heart that you had fought to keep beating. The medical bunks weren't made for two but you two made it work, slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.

Rex bent his head, and a feather light kiss brushed the top of yours. You didn't respond, but didn't pull away either. His exhausted body quickly succumbed to sleep. You weren't far behind. Two halves of a whole.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hear me out because I absolutely need an enemies to lovers style captain Phasma X jedi reader hate fuck

Ooooooooh yes! I would absolutely love to write this 🤤 This takes place before episode 7 btw, when the first order is looking for Skywalker but hasn’t captured Poe yet.

Rock Bottom ~Captain Phasma xFem Jedi!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, enemies to lovers, degrading kink, strap fucking, hate fucking, grey/questionable consent area…?, etc…

Enjoy (;

It was the time of the First Order. And they were desperate for Luke Skywalker.

Recently, there had been a tip off of an extremely powerful jedi hiding off on a deserted moon on the edge of the galaxy.

The tip off had said a jedi had shut down a First Order inspection of the moon with ease.

“Sir, we’re coming up on the moon.” a first order officer reported to Kylo Ren.

“Good. Captain, I want you to at my side.” Ren commanded, motioning towards Phasma.

“Yes, sir.” Phasma replied.

The first order’s ship landed on the deserted moon and began their search for Skywalker.

The nearby suns were cresting at high noon, when Ren tilted his head sensing a pull from the force.

“This way.” He directed the selective group of troopers.

The group made their way through a thick forest before coming to a clearing with a hut in the middle of it.

There was still smoke coming from the chimney…

“Captain, take a line of men to make sure he doesn’t escape. The rest of you, surround the hut.” Ren ordered

The men slowly crept up around the hut, as Phasma took some troopers to the edge of the forest.

Phasma watched as the men then invaded the hut with shouts.

But it was empty…

Suddenly, Phasma heard a snap of a twig behind her.

She turned around and caught a glimpse of something rustling away from her position.

“Lieutenant, keep the troopers in formation!” Phasma shouted as she ran off to follow the movement.

From a distance one could see the lieutenant terrified and explaining the situation to Kylo Ren, who was quick to follow the Captain.

As Phasma ran deeper into the woods, so did you.

You both could feel Ren on your heels.

You were a surviving jedi who had barely escaped with your life on multiple occasions now.

As you ran through the trees, you tripped.

You tripped and hit your head on a tree stump.

Hard.

You tried to get up and keep running but you were met with a blackened vision and immediate dizziness.

You could barely see a shimmering trooper running towards you.

And that’s when you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been the captive of Ren for a week now.

Or at least that was your guess.

You were held in a windowless room and tortured on the regular.

What you assumed to be every day, Ren would come in and try and extract the location of Skywalker from you.

But you couldn’t tell him.

You didn’t know.

After what you assumed to be three weeks, Ren was getting frustrated.

You had been trained explicitly for using the force as a defense for the mind and Ren couldn’t penetrate you.

One particular harsh day, Ren was going on for hours…

After awhile, Captain Phasma stepped in and requested Ren.

With a huff, Ren stepped back from you, who was on the border of unconsciousness.

“If you’d let me take a stab at her, I’m sure I could have her talking.”

You heard the Captain say in a muffled tone.

Then you vaguely recall seeing a frustrated Kylo Ren storm off.

You sighed.

You assumed that meant you were done for the day.

But the Captain then came in.

She then proceeded to undo you from the torture chair and drag you down the hallway to your cell.

She threw you on the ground and turned around to close and lock the door.

You tried to stifle a groan, but it slipped out anyway.

You heard Phasma chuckle.

You got yourself to lean against the cell wall and looked to find Phasma standing and leaning against the opposing wall.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you, jedi scum…” Phasma stated.

You said nothing but simply stared her down with your body shaking and your breathing labored.

Phasma then crouched down, mere inches away from your face, and you raised your head to meet her helmet.

“I’ll have you talking in days…” She taunted, although her tone was extremely serious.

You dryly laughed a bit, “What are you gonna do, torture me?”

At your words, her hand was on your neck and squeezing.

You whimpered at the touch, unable to stifle your sounds.

“You’re going to wish I tortured you…” She seethed.

She then let you go and left with a slam of the door.

You gasped for air.

On the other side, you could hear a muffled Phasma yelling, “No on is to go in there and no one is to give her anything!”

It was then that your body gave out on you and lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the next few days in the dark with no one and no food and no water.

Finally, you heard the click of the door and light flooded into your cell, causing your cell lights to switch on as well.

You winced.

The door closed again and you heard the click of the lock.

Once your eyes had adjusted, you saw a tall woman in front of you.

Fuck was she stunning…

Your thoughts had started to spiral from all the depravity from the last few days.

She was wearing a basic training uniform, but she didn’t look like a basic first order trooper…

You could spend days imaging what she’d look like underneath that ill suited uniform…

The woman crouched down to your lied down figure, grabbing you by the chin and lifting you to your feet.

Successfully pinning you to the wall.

“Does my Jedi scum feel like talking now…?” Phasma jeered.

Oh Fuck…

It clicked for you now.

It was Phasma…

“Fuck you!” You spat in her face.

Phasma chuckled darkly.

“Just remember I gave you a way out…” She sneered with glimmering eyes.

Your stomache was a pit…

You knew very well what tension was between the two of you…

Without warning, Phasma flipped you around, caging your hands above your head with one hand and tilting her chin sideways with her other.

Your breathing was erratic.

Your pupils were blown wide.

“You want something scum?” Phasma taunted.

You gulped and stayed silent.

She then pressed her body against yours, squishing you against the wall.

Oh, OHhhHHh Fuck…

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat from the bulge you felt ghost grinding against your ass.

She was packing…

You were trying your best to take deep breaths, but your body was reacting against your will.

You found yourself pressing your ass against her bulge.

Phasma wickedly chuckled again, “Already so needy, slut?” she taunted you.

Your heart raced tripled at that nickname…

“No...” You gritted out, which both of you knew was an obvious lie…

“Really?” She mock-taunted, “So if I were to slip my finger in your cunt, your telling me that you wouldn’t be soaked and your walls wouldn’t flutter in desperation…”

You shuddered at her words and tried to stifle the moan that came up at the idea of someone touching you…

Especially her…

But before you could process anything else, you felt Phasmas fingers ghosting the back waistband of your pants.

“Why don’t we find out how much of a slut you really are, scum…” She lustfully jeered.

With that, she had hooked your pants with her finger and dropped them to the floor.

You gasped as the cold air hit your wobbly legs.

“Oh my, do I make your knees weak, slut…?” Phasma taunted.

You merely whimpered in response.

With that, you could feel Phasmas fingers slipping under your underwear and finding exactly what she had been looking for…

“Fuck jedi, you’re dripping…” she breathed out, her own voice faltering.

Your face went red with embarrassment and shame.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way…

And she knew that…

She was exploiting that…

You tried to squeeze your thighs together at that, but Phasma was quick to stop you by shoving your legs apart with her own.

She then removed her fingers from your soaked cunt, eliticing another whimper from you.

“Are you ready to talk yet, slut? Or do you need further encouragement…?” She jeered into your ear.

“Fuck you…!” You spat yet again.

Phasma chuckled and continued her taunts, “Seems like the slut needs to be taught a lesson…”

In seconds, Phasmas trousers and underwear were lowered so that now you could feel her strap right on your ass…

She moved your body in one swoop so that your ass was sticking out more and your legs were widened.

“Please…” you whimpered, at this point you were so conflicted you didn’t know what you were begging for…

With her available fingers, Phasma moved your underwear to the side and placed her dick right on your clit.

At this your hips bucked forward.

“Please God please…!” You cried out, half of you begging her to stop, the other half begging her to fuck you dumb…

“You asked for it, slut…” She breathed, her voice coated in lustful venom.

Her hips then thrusted her dick straight into your aching hole with no warning and no time to adjust.

It was impossible to contain your cries this time.

Phasma began to pound into from behind as you writhed and screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“OhHhh God right there…!!” you cried out as Phasma bottomed you out.

“That’s right. I am your God…” She hissed in your ear, while relentlessly hitting your g-spot without fail with every single thrust.

Your legs were trembling so badly now, they were threatening to collapse…

Your breathing was erratic and all over the fucking place…

As much as you hated to admit it, you were gonna fucking cum…

And Phasma knew it.

“Oh my, does my slut wanna cum…?” She taunted.

“I… please… don’t stop…!!” You spurted out your words, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Tears were now streaming down your eyes.

This was so wrong…

You could feel yourself about to tip over the edge and one last thrust from Phasma did it.

The orgasmic wave hit you like a brick wall…

Your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed against your captor.

Your screams were so out of control, Phasma had to quickly clasp your mouth shut.

After a minute, Phasma pulled out of you and unclasped her hands from your mouth, and you immediately collapsed on the floor, panting like a fucking dog and your mind reeling from what you had just done.

Phasma took the time to collect herself as well, the silence being a pleasantry for both of you.

You were the one who broke it.

“I don’t know where Skywalker is…” you whispered, looking up to your captor with a tear stained face.

Phasma met your gaze and lightly chuckled.

“I believe you.”