#i’m working on archiving and moving but take this for star wars day

[garden-bug]

Let's fix Star Wars!!

(I said at the start of the summer and wrote nearly 100k.) (It needed a lot of fixing ok.)

Here is a fix-it fanfic but it's for three series and the entire sequel trilogy. I will be posting about this more because I am determined to finish it soon (and then redraft it wooo!).

Description:

Somehow, Darth Maul returns. (As a force ghost.) (Somewhere Ahsoka thinks is probably the living Force.)

This changes everything.

In other words: The Mandalorian S3 but make it Din/Luke; the Ahsoka series but make it EZRA AND THRAWN SPACE ADVENTURES; and ‘somehow Palpatine returns’ is ripped to shreds because I connect plot points and add new characters.

Chapter excerpts below!

Chapter 1 excerpt:

“Not as far as I remember. Oh, wait! I wanted to rule the galaxy… shame.” He rolls his shoulders again. “Can’t do much about that now. Being dead is quite demotivating.” “I’m sorry for your lack of motivation.” “Don’t make fun, Lady Tano. Have sympathy for this poor, dead, ex-Sith.” “I guess 'dead' is your only personality trait now.” “You preferred me before?” Ahsoka grimaces. She can’t argue with that. “No, sorry." “I will be honest,” Maul says, “I haven’t felt this peaceful since before I lost the lower half of my body.” Ahsoka fixes him with a reproving look. "You were Palpatine's apprentice then." “Yes.” Maul sighs wistfully, chin sinking into his hand. Ahsoka rubs her eyes. Maul has already given her a headache and they've only been talking for a minute. There is still nothing but darkness and flickering light, and Maul’s steady, yellow eyes. “Do you know where you are?” Ahsoka asks. “Why should I help you figure this out? You didn’t help me once. Also, in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear, I’m dead, so I don’t care what happens to you or anyone else who is still alive. Some of us aren’t so lucky, you know?” "If we figure this out, maybe I'll get peace. I really don't want you as a voice in my head." Maul grimaces. “B’ahor,” he mutters. “In the Al'har system?” "There is a dark power on that planet… I sense evil, but also… something else." His eyes burn. "Perhaps you will go there and die. That would solve this problem quickly."

Chapter 2 excerpt:

“What was that?” Mayan asks as they hurry towards the mountain. “That feeling… the…” “The Force,” says Ahsoka. “The Force exists all around us. It is created by all living things, it moves through them, and it binds the whole galaxy together.” “How do you know about it?” “I was trained as a Jedi.” Ahsoka is surprised when her face remains impassive. There is no flicker of recognition, no spark of awe in her eyes. She just nods. “In my village, people like that are called world breakers.” “There are more of you?” “There were.” Mayan looks away. “The legends say that world breakers can take a planet in their hand and shatter it.” “That's... impossible,” Ahsoka says. She wonders why she had never considered that remote planets may have different legends about the Force. “According to the stories, we are children of the Great Universe. If we follow its will, it will guide us... That's how it used to be.” Ahsoka means to ask if there is more to these legends, but Mayan comes to a halt suddenly and points to the rock face in front of them. “This is where the curse is,” says the girl. “Yes.” Ahsoka can sense it too. This is where the Force has been leading them. It reeks of Sith and of evil. Something terrible must have happened here.

Chapter 4 excerpt:

Fleeing vehicles kick up a cloud of dust, and Luke jumps up onto the roof of the adjacent building, crouching close in preparation to drop down. Sweat licks the back of his neck. For a stupid moment he thinks how this is the complete wrong time of day to be out, when both suns are high in the sky. Then he leaps. There isn’t even time to be annoyed as the roller-wheeler careers around the corner. “Peli, I told you to keep him inside!” “He wanted to see his dad!” Peli screams. Luke sends Grogu a withering look. The little guy sticks his tongue out from where he is held securely in the Mandalorian’s arms. “I am so sorry,” says the Mandalorian. Luke doesn’t even know where to start. “It’s alright, can you hang on to him?” The roller-wheeler jolts suddenly, and Grogu squeals in what’s probably excitement. “Yeah, but you can’t get through their shield with your lightsaber. I tried with mine.” “Ok.” Luke tugs the vehicle slightly to adjust its course. “We’re gonna have to talk about why you have a lightsaber later.” He senses annoyance from the helmet. “Did you kill a Jedi?” “Won it from Moff Gideon.” “You defeated Moff Gideon?” “Watch it.” The Mandalorian blasts a Pyke who was aiming for Luke from the top of a building. “Good shot.” The Mandalorian nods. Next thing they know, a Pyke has taken out the droid, and Luke somersaults off the roller-wheeler before it flips. He plants his feet in the ground and catches the vehicles momentum that everyone lands relatively unscathed. The Mandalorian caught Grogu immediately, so Luke draws them towards him, until his hand meets bescar. “Nice catch,” says the Mandalorian. Luke grins. “Is Grogu ok?” Grogu pops up over the Mandalorian’s shoulder. He’s a little shaken, but a smile breaks across his face when he sees Luke. Peli spits out a tooth from where she’s lying.

Chapter 5 excerpt:

“We’re even,” Boba decides. He makes a hand gesture for the blue liquor, which Fennec tosses to him with a roll of her eyes. Boba places his helmet beside him on the seat and takes a swing, acid-scarred face regarding him cooly. Luke bows respectfully. “Thanks a bunch.” Boba waves an arm dismissively. “Go see the little green guy.” He turns to leave, but Boba isn’t done. He comments, offhandedly, “I thought you would’ve gotten a few more scars since the last time I saw you.” Luke turns, puzzled. “Why?” “Haven’t you been Jedi-ing?” “Jedi-ing...” “Saving the galaxy.” “We... I did that.” “What about Tatooine?” Luke’s smile falters. “Tch. ∂ι’кυтℓα נєтιιѕє.” “What's that s'posed to mean?” “It means I don’t like you.” “He called the Jedi useless,” says Ahsoka. Luke meets her eyes, trying to stifle the burn in his skin. Ahsoka clears her throat. “We’ve been gone a long time.” “That’s why I want to rebuild what was lost.” Ahsoka looks at him for a long moment. “I know.”

Chapter 6 excerpt:

“σяιтѕιя!” Koska yells. “Bo-Katan Kryze!” Bo-Katan’s eyes widen, she drops her gaze and breathes softly. “Stop yelling.” “You… you…” Koska clenches her fists. “иιвяαℓ! αяυєт!” She kicks the metal desk, exclaiming incoherencies. Bo-Katan shakes her head. “What do you want me to do?” She sits back, hands out. “I don’t have any way to unite our people, and Mandalore is inhabited by a clan of psychos.” Koska’s lip trembles, but she bites it down. “We were going to follow you. We were going to get our home back,” her voice cracks. “Don’t tell me it’s all over now. After everything we’ve been through to get here.” “Mandalore, and my legacy, is dead,” Bo-Katan seethes. “Even with the darksaber, would we be able to subdue, or, live alongside that… Clan куяαу¢, knowing what they did to Mandalore?” “Just get the darksaber from him!” Koska says. “If you get it our clan will stop kriffing falling apart and we can take them down.” Bo-Katan slumps into her hand. “This is why we fell apart in the first place. We fought each other instead of the Empire. It’s not a path I am willing to go down.” “The others are,” Koska states. Bo-Katan looks up. “And they will,” Koska continues, eyes hard. “That’s why you need to decide what to do now before they decide for you, and we end up going down a path of self-destruction. While they’ll still listen to you, choose.”

Chapter 8 excerpt:

Ahsoka clenches her jaw. “Maul,” she grits out, “what did you do?” “Em, an… indoctrination ceremony? It was mostly just for fun,” he assures her. “Ezra thought it would be fun.” “You indoctrinated him into your clan?” “That’s…” Maul blinks. “Yes. He could be considered a son of Dathomir.” “And that’s why the night sister magic took him to Dathomir.” Ahsoka groans. “Well, this was a complete waste of time! Now I have to deal with Thrawn and get out of here somehow.” Maul nods, as though that had been his plan all along. “How long has it been since they returned from the unknown regions?” he asks. “I don’t know.” “Find out,” insists Maul. “Spending too long on Dathomir with the spirits of the night sisters… would not be advisable.” Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “How so?” “They will attempt to resurrect, using whatever means they can get their hands on. I wouldn’t be surprised if they sacrifice his mortal body to gain strength to cross back over into the physical world.” “Are they immortal?” “They are… like Force ghosts that can absorb energy. With enough energy, they can reconstruct themselves, piece by piece, until all they are lacking is a physical body. They will need many sacrifices to resurrect fully.” “Hold on… could you resurrect?” “I would prefer not to,” Maul says simply. Ahsoka’s eyes widen. “Okay… why?” “Haven’t you asked enough personal questions?” he snaps. “Leave. I’m busy trying to wallow in misery.” “Sure, okay.” Ahsoka shrugs. “But if you want to talk about it—” “I said go,” Maul hisses.

Chapter 9 excerpt:

The smaller tunnel winds further down, deeper into the centre of the planet. There’s the slightest movement in the air, vibration, and Luke recognises the energy of life forces and stops walking suddenly. “There are… people down here,” he says. Din casts him a dubious helmet tilt, and they continue until it is unmistakable. Voices echo through the tunnels, many, it seems, perhaps a covert worth. “Do you wanna go say hello?” Luke asks. “Perhaps they can help us find the living waters.” The tunnel breaks off into several other small passageways. This close, Luke can pick out the soft glow of light, and he gestures for Din to switch his torch off. When he does, they are plunged into darkness, but gradually, Luke’s eyes adjust to the light, and he leads Din by the arm towards the light and the voices. The voices hush suddenly. Luke pauses, he wonders if they should stop, go back, maybe confront these people somewhere they have more of an advantage. But Din steps past him, leaving Grogu in Luke’s arms. “тισи’¢υу?” “иι αℓιιт мαи∂σ.” “иυ тισи’αℓιιт ѕσℓυѕ?” “иαу¢… αѕн’α∂.” “к’σℓαя.” Din steps into the room. Luke follows after him. Inside the large cave, is a group of Mandalorians. One of them stands abruptly, blaster raised. “тισи’ѕσℓєт?” he barks. “єни,” Din responds. “тισи’ναιι?” Din reaches for Grogu, and takes him into his arms. “иєя ιк’αα∂. иι куя'тαуℓ gαι ѕα’α∂,” he says. The Mandalorian stares at them for a moment, then sighs raggedly, and sinks back onto the rock. The others in his group relax, but keep their eyes fixed on the newcomers. Their armour is in a state of disrepair, some of it clearly salvaged from the ruins. Some wear their helmets while others do not. The faces that Luke can see are pale and gaunt, as though they haven’t seen the sunlight in a long time and their torn clothes hang off their body in a way that makes Luke think of skeletons. “Do you speak basic?” Din asks. “We haven’t,” the Mandalorian says harshly, “since a long time.” His eyes are dark, hooded, his hair matted and entirely grey. “We are looking for the living waters,” Din explains. “Do you know how to get there?”

Chapter 10 excerpt:

Mayan has gotten better at interpreting binary speech, but she’s not quite there yet. It takes her a moment to figure out what the little beeps mean as she stuffs some out-of-date rations into a makeshift pack. “Um… we’re going to rescue Ahsoka.” R2 spins excitedly. Then he stops and says, “…. --- .--?" “I don’t know how.” Mayan ties her boots. “By now, the blue man will think we’ve gone, so we can surprise him, right?” R2 whistles uncertainly. “Well… there’s no other choice.” Mayan grips the lightsaber in her hand. “You said Luke can’t come… so…” R2 bumps into her as she walks towards the ladder. “Ow, that was my toe.” Mayan groans. “What is it?” “-.. .- -. --. . .-. --- ..- …!” “I know it’s dangerous. You didn’t want Luke to come because he’s an important Jedi, right?” Mayan squeezes past him. “If the blue man finds him it’d be bad, so it’s better if I rescue her.” R2 whistles a sad note again. Mayan clambers up the ladder one-armed, her other arm tucked into a sling under her cloak. It’s completely useless. She doesn’t know how bad the break was, but since it happened, the skin has gone from red to purple — the edges faintly green. If she tries to use it, a sharp pain stabs through her. The town is quiet this early — even the fruit vendors haven’t opened their stalls yet. Mayan sneaks around the side of the blown-up house, pulling her cloak over her feathered hair. She gestures for R2 to follow. She thinks if she can get to the mountain again, she can… well, she doesn’t really know. Mayan has always been good at getting out of dangerous situations, not getting into them. Maybe R2 can come up with a plan. “This is hopeless,” Mayan decides. They sit within viewing distance of the tall mountain base, hidden in a valley of rocks. “--. --- ……. -… .- -.-. -.-?” R2 suggests. Mayan rubs the wrinkly skin of her fingers. “I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how to get in, or where she is. I’ve never even seen a prison before.” She pulls her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know why Ahsoka even believes in me at all.” “… -.- -.-- ……. .. … ……. .- -- .- --.. .. -. —.!” Mayan smiles a little. 'Sky is amazing,' R2 said. It’s nice that he gave her a nickname after she said she wanted one like Ahsoka had as a padawan.

Chapter 11 excerpt:

Their arrival must have caused a minor uproar. A dozen Mandalorians watch from every hallway Luke glances down. They are all blue, presumably Bo-Katan’s people, and they don’t seem happy. They are brought into a large hall, where spear-shaped windows bite into the ceiling, and white crystal casts a steady light over the room. A long carpet leads to a throne that resembles a hardened splash of lava, and on it, sits Bo-Katan. She’s really got the throne thing down, maybe even as much as Boba Fett. Luke would not mess with either of them unless absolutely necessary purely based on their throne demeanour. “What the kirff are you doing,” Bo-Katan says. She doesn’t yell, just sounds exasperated, maybe even exhausted. “I’m taking you up on the offer to join you.” Bo-Katan looks at him. Her amber eyes narrow, and she gets up, and makes her way towards them. “You’re too late now,” she says. Her expression touches on cold rage. “I’m barely holding this together as it is. With the arrival of your covert, things have only gotten worse.” “Mandalore is habitable,” Din says. “There are other Mandalorians already living there.” “The clans on Mandalore are belligerent and mad,” Bo-Katan snaps. “And the Empire has eyes on the planet. With the numbers we have, staging anything with only attract attention and get us all killed.”

Chapter 12 excerpt:

“You have redeemed yourself?” asks the Armourer. “I have,” says Din. The intense blue of the forge reflects off both of their helmets and the heat dusts Luke’s cheeks with warmth. “And you have acquired another foundling…” The Armourer’s tone shifts to something decidedly less serious and more akin to amusement. “What is the name of this child?” “Kymir,” Din says. “Kymir, do you wish to join our covert?” the Armourer asks the boy. Kymir looks from Din to the Armourer, brows furrowing. “He doesn’t speak basic,” Din says. “Kymir, тιαи’¢σρααиιя тσ αℓιιт?” he translates. Kymir bites his lip. “иαу¢,” he says. Luke infers that his answer is no. Din looks at the Armourer. “He has had a bad experience with his covert. He will not trust easily.” “Without a covert, he will have no protection.” “I will watch over him.” “At this time, you are also in need of protection,” says the Armourer, lightly. “You were almost killed this morning.”

Chapter 13 excerpt:

“Ahsoka? Ahsoka!” Mayan shakes Ahsoka’s shoulders, but her master doesn’t stir. She holds her face and tries to somehow will her awake with the force, but nothing seems to work. Her eyes remain closed, eyelids twitching minutely every few seconds. “Is she alright?” Leia asks, crouching by the broken tree Ahsoka rests against. “I think so… she goes into deep sleeps sometimes. I don’t really know what…” Mayan hugs her arms. “Um, is the Falcon okay?” “Ships fine,” Han says, an edge of annoyance in his tone, as he walks over to them. “But Ahsoka better wake up soon so I can ask her what in the hell just happened.” “We went through a portal,” Mayan says. Han squints. “How d’you know that?” “I’m a Jedi padawan…” Han throws his hands in the air. “Not another one! Come on, Chewy,” he says, “let’s go help Sabine get the engine started like normal people. Damn Jedi…force portals…” he mutters. R2 beeps in a pattern that Mayan recognises as a laugh as Han stalks off. “I hope Ahsoka wakes up soon…” Mayan says, mostly to herself, though Leia is still beside her. “Yes, well,” Leia starts, “we need to get back home. This was meant to be a drop-off, not another adventure.”

Chapter 16 excerpt:

“Come with me to Mandalore,” Din says. “But I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.” “Do you want to?” “Yes.” Luke glances at him from over his shoulder. “But I can’t,” he says. “I’m a Jedi, I have to follow the will of the force.” Din is silent for a long time, and Luke wonders if the conversation is over. But finally, he speaks. “I understand.” Luke huffs dubiously. “Really?” “Yes,” Din says. “I know what it’s like to be told that something that feels right is somehow wrong.” Luke’s stomach twists. Nothing feels right. Nothing. He let the force guide him here and now the force is telling him it’s time to leave. What if Din and Grogu still need him? He’s almost certain they do. But the galaxy needs him too. Perhaps his responsibilities lie elsewhere, maybe he got caught up in his emotions and mistook this for being the right thing. The problem is, Luke doesn’t know. The uncertainty makes him afraid. (Jedi should not be afraid.) He remembers his vision in the mythosaur lair and his throat tightens until he can barely speak. (Fear clouds one’s judgement.) “I can’t choose you,” Luke whispers, and a laugh catches in his through. “I can never choose you. Can you really tell me you understand that?” Din brings a hand up to his helmet. “I don’t know.” Luke stands up and catches his wrist. “Don’t,” he says. “I can’t let you give up your creed for me when I wouldn’t do the same for you.” Din’s hand falls. Luke stares into the dark visor, feeling further from his eyes than ever. The words of Obi-Wan’s Force-ghost echo in his head. “Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order to be by her side.” “I’m sorry,” Luke says and lets go of his wrist. He steps back, gaze falling to the floor. If he wasn’t among the last Jedi… if the fate of the galaxy didn’t rest on his shoulders… But the Jedi are gone. Palpatine and Vader made sure of that. And now Luke has to spend his life paying for his father’s mistakes.

Chapter 18 excerpt:

“Leia, I don’t like this.” Luke tries not to squirm in his seat. If he had no appetite for the fancy Coruscant food before he certainly doesn’t now. “A Moff, after a force-sensitive child, working with a cloner? What the kriff were they doing?” “He might just have been after him because he was force sensitive and you know how the Empire felt about the Jedi.” “I wish I’d asked Din about this! I’m such an idiot.” “Who’s Din?” “Never mind. Okay, I’ve got to find out what Pershing was doing for Moff Gideon. I have a seriously bad feeling —” “Okay,” Leia says. “I trust your judgement. Are you finished? Let’s go speak to them.” Luke’s stomach swoops. “What?” “Sorry, farm-boy. Sneaking around isn’t how we learn things on Coruscant. You’ve got to play the game.” “What game?” “Politics, Luke.” “Oh great.”

Chapter 19 excerpt

“Good. I’m going down. Kymir and I can reach them fastest. Once we know where the creature lives we can go with a small group and rescue Ragnar.” Bo-Katan narrows her eyes, searching his visor for something to reassure herself. Din’s stomach drops when he realises that she’s desperately searching for his eyes. He touches her shoulder instead. “Keep them together,” he says, nodding in the direction of the others who are still reeling from the shock of the attack, some badly wounded. Bo-Katan sighs. “That’s what I’ve been doing for years, Din.” She shakes her head. “Let me wrap your arm. Take some more painkillers or you won’t be able to think when you’re down there. You might still lose the arm the way it is now.” Din stares at her. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Okay?” Bo-Katan squints, winding the bandage around his arm which is thoroughly smothered in bacta. “I think you mean fuck.” “Fuck,” Din says. “It’s fine. I still have another arm.”

“∂ιи ∂נαяιи נσя иєя’вυιя נιι.” Din Djarin is… my… Din grabs a wall to steady himself. The words bounce around his helmet and his ears ache. He shuts his eyes, tries to focus on the words through the pain. They’re the important thing. “σяι’νσ∂ вυяк’у¢. ναιι’уαιм ∂яαgσи?” My friend is in danger. Where is the dragon’s home? “куяαмℓα.” He’s dead. “иυ ∂яααя!” Not never! “кумιя, уαιм’σℓ.” Kymir, come home. Din steps out to stand beside him. He tries to stand straight. He pulls out the darksaber with his good hand. “gαα’тαуℓιя,” he says, and ignites the blade. Help me. For a moment, nobody moves. Then, somebody asks, “ιвι¢… иι ¢єтα?” Will this… redeem us? Din looks at Kymir. Understanding wells in his eyes. "Do you forgive them?" “иααѕα∂ мι’ѕυя’нααι,” says Kymir. Not in my eyes. Din nods. Good. “мєн’gαα’тαуℓιя, нιвιяαя gαя иι ¢єтα.” If you help us, you may learn to forgive yourselves.

Grogu frowns in concentration. He peers out of the window, ignoring the computer completely, but his hand shifts on the stick and suddenly his eyes widen and he presses the button down. It hits the dragon and the creature screeches in agony, twisting up into the sky to escape from the onslaught. “Mu?” Grogu turns to Din. “Uh, lucky shot,” Din says. “I wouldn’t shoot without aiming first, kid. Wait, actually… can you use your Jedi stuff to aim? Is that what you’re doing?” Okay. What would Luke say? Something like… “In that case, just focus, and… listen to the — is it called the Force? Yeah, listen to the Force.” Grogu snorts. “What? Wouldn’t I make a good Jedi?” Din smiles, but Grogu can’t see it.

The guns bombard the remaining dragons with enough firepower to essentially obliterate them, and litter their scaly corpses across the ground. Boba-Fett lands his ship with a whoosh of hot air. Din stares as he lowers the landing ramp and marches towards him, Fennec following closely. “Thought you could use a hand,” says the gruff voice. Din tries to speak but his legs decide to give out. “Woah, there.” Boba keeps him upright with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside, Manda’lor,” he says. “Someone oughta throw you in a bacta tank,” says Fennec. “We don’t have a bacta tank.” Bo-Katan scowls from the cave entrance. “What are you doing here, Fett?” “I heard there was a get-together on Mandalore. Someone must’ve missed my invitation.”

Chapter 20 excerpt:

The magic tethering her to Dathomir tugs sharply on her wrist as she falls again into the familiar darkness. And then stops. Ahsoka can hear her breaths this time, sharp and cutting, and she scrambles to her feet, searching for — “You…” “Get away from him,” Ahsoka snarls. Leia’s lightsaber ignites with a burst of blue. Palpatine, or whatever’s left of him, has found them. His dark cloak drowns his physical form, making him almost impossible to discern from the flickering darkness, if it wasn’t for the ghastly, misshapen white of his face. Yellow eyes melt through the darkness, and grey lips stretch in a triumphant gleam. “He is of no more importance,” Palpatine snarls. Maul’s body twitches in the air, hands grasping desperately at his throat. “Let him go,” Ahsoka says. “S-sever our dyad,” Maul gasps. “Don’t let… don’t let him…” Ahsoka rips her arm free of the green string. “No!” Maul cries. Now there is no going back. “I will not leave you with him.”

“Grand Admiral, Sir, permission to speak freely?” “Permission granted, commodore Faro. You know I always value your input.” “Well, Sir, we’re kriffed.”

Chapter 25 excerpt:

“Thrawn,” Eli starts, looking into his red eyes, “y’know I—” The security feed beeps. Eli’s eyes widen when he sees Ezra waving up at the camera from the supply room. Eli clicks the comms. “Um, Ezra, wha’d’ya think you’re doing there? Actually, how’d you even get on board?” “Space portals!” “Right. I see.” Eli rubs his forehead. This is going to be a long day. “You need anythin’?” “You won’t believe what happened down there,” Ezra practically yells. “Anyway, I need the key now because we’re locking Dathomir so this doesn’t ever happen again, then we’re all jumping through a space portal to you guys. Is that alright?” “Sure. See ya in a bit.” “Excellent,” says Thrawn. He turns to Eli. “What were you going to say?” Eli sighs. “Moment’s gone. Alright, let’s get this data ready for Ezra-kid to look at.”

[nimata-beroya]

SUPERNOVA

This my piece for Day 1 of @tbb-appreciation-week!!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Royce Hemlock Additional Tags: The Bad Batch Appreciation Week 2023, Tbbaw2023, force sensitive AU, Force-Sensitive Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Canon-Typical Violence, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Are you sure?, Force Lightning (Star Wars) Series: Part 1 of TBBAW 2023, Part 9 of Good Soldiers Follow Orders, Good Brothers Disobey Them Summary: Hunter shows off his ace up his sleeve in a confrontation with Dr. Hemlock during the rescue of his sibling in Mt. Tantiss.

SUPERNOVA

“Come closer and he’ll die.”

Time stays still, and the tension grows in the room to an unbearable level, so thick that it makes it impossible for Hunter to breathe. His eyes can’t stray away from Dr. Hemlock at the other end of the room. He’s aware that Omega unconscious on the floor at a side, but he doesn’t dare to peek at her. Everything in him is urging him to check on her, but he doesn’t dare to move. With his enhanced senses, he can tell she’s waking up; she’ll be fine.

Hunter can’t say the same thing about the brother he thought he’d lost, whose life Hemlock is threatening right now. Hemlock smirks knowingly, as he hovers his fingers over the buttons in the console. His threat echoes in Hunter’s mind, and he cannot control the surge of fear and anger washing over him. And with it, something much more profound and animalistic comes along.

It’s a feeling that he learned to suppress during his cadet years, channeling it for a good use. One that’s now boiling to dangerous levels. Hunter is about to explode like a supernova. Struggling to to take control of his emotions, his fingers tighten around his vibroknife.

Hemlock watches him intently and says with his poised yet dangerous tone, “Consider your next move very carefully, or the day will end poorly. You and your friends might have successfully taken over the facility, but I’m the one in control here.”

“Step away from the console, Hemlock!” Hunter growls.

“If I don’t, what? You can’t stop me.”

In other circumstances, such a taunt would’ve bounced off Hunter like it’s nothing. But he has no longer the ability to think rationally. These past months since Hemlock took Omega away, all his training, all his skills to stay calm in a tense situation have been wiped out till there’s nothing left. All that Hemlock words do is snap the feeble tether Hunter has on his emotions.

He can’t control himself anymore.

Keep Reading

[tup-ika-5385]

Summary:

Medical Leave or Leaving Medical? A collection of fics where Kix takes care of his brothers, despite their initial protests. Inspired by a comic by @swdomesticverse of various troopers needing a week of bedrest. Set in canon/near-canon timeline.

Chapter 1: Tup

When Tup joked to Dogma that he was going to sleep for 24 hours straight after they got back from their latest campaign, Dogma didn’t think he actually meant it. But here he was, more than a full day later, watching his batchmate still snoring in his bunk and looking completely dead to the world. 

At this rate, he was going to miss second-meal entirely, and few things were worse than dealing with a sleepy, hangry Tup. So with no small measure of reluctance, Dogma put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small shake. 

“Tup, wake up.” Still nothing. A look of frustration crossed his face, and he nudged him a little bit harsher. “Tup, you’re going to miss mid-meal if you don’t get up, and I’m not sharing mine.”

Finally, Tup groaned tiredly, shifting under his blankets as his eyes started to open. Squinting blearily at Dogma, he mumbled, “ ‘m trying to sleep…” Even as Dogma continued to stand there, his eyes drifted shut again. Hearing the abject exhaustion in his tone and seeing the bags under his batchmate’s eyes, Dogma was tempted to let him, but Tup had a tendency to complain endlessly when his internal clock didn’t match shipboard time, so letting him sleep any longer would probably be a mistake. 

“Get up. Or I’ll drag you out of your bunk.”

Tup started a little bit at his voice, like he’d already managed to fall back asleep in the two seconds since he closed his eyes. Giving Dogma a rude gesture, Tup heaved a sigh and pushed himself into a sitting position. Even as he started putting his armor on, Dogma could see his head bobbing as he fought the urge to fall back asleep. 

He shook his head, annoyance masking fondness. If Tup had his way, he’d sleep away his whole week. Finally, after a few more jolting head-bobs, Tup was fully dressed, rubbing teary eyes with a yawn. 

“So tired…” He complained to Dogma, as if it was his fault that he’d overslept. Dogma rolled his eyes, pulling Tup up from his bed so they could head to the mess together. Thankfully, they were off-duty for the next 24 hours, so Tup didn’t have to worry about tidying his bed-head. 

Still stumbling sleepily, Tup nearly ran into Dogma when they went to stand in line for food. “Tup,” Dogma huffed in annoyance, but allowed it when Tup leaned forward so his forehead was leaned against his shoulder-pad. It was only when the line moved up that Dogma realized his batcher had fallen asleep standing up.

At this point, a prickle of concern was starting to form in Dogma’s stomach. This was starting to get a little ridiculous. He shook Tup’s shoulder and nudged him in front of him in line to keep a better eye on him. 

For his part, Tup snorted awake before moving forward obediently, grabbing a tray of rations. He rubbed at his face exhaustedly, running a hand through his hair before scratching at his neck, just below the collar of his blacks. Shrugging his shoulders in irritation at some kind of itch, Tup shook his head before moving to join the rest of their squad at a nearby table, Dogma close behind. Fives, Hardcase, Jesse, and Kix were already nearly done with their respective meals.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty! Was worried you’d miss the pudding cups today!” Fives called, giving the duo a teasing grin. Tup responded with a glare and an unintelligible mumble, laying his head on the mess table.

A round of sympathetic chuckling followed as Kix and Jesse looked between them. Dogma sat next to Tup, poking him in the shoulder to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep yet again, getting another irritated grumble. Dogma rolled his eyes. “You’ve been asleep for the past 30 hours, Tup. You can’t sleep forever.” 

“Watch me.” Tup retorted dramatically, earning a snort of amusement from Hardcase, who was sitting nearby. 

Kix shared a look of fond exasperation with Fives before speaking. “You really should eat something before you go back to sleep, vod’ika. That was a pretty rough campaign, and you’ve still got another half-inch to grow before you catch up with Fives.”

Looking like he wanted to do nothing more than sleep for another 30 hours, Tup gave the medic an irritated look before giving in, grabbing his ration bar with one hand while using the other to scratch at his neck again. A brief look of discomfort crossed his face, catching Dogma’s attention for a second time.

“Why are you so tired anyways? Did you get hurt on Thyferra? You know it’s against protocol to hide an injury.” Dogma asked, giving him a probing look, gaining the attention of Kix.

“Not injured, Dogma.” Tup spoke between bites of his ration bar, pausing to give another jaw-cracking yawn. “We just finished a campaign, vod. Everyone’s tired.” 

Even as Tup spoke, his head wobbled and he had to blink forcefully to keep his eyes open. Gaze unfocused, he barely registered as Kix made his way to their side of the table. He startled slightly as Kix put a steadying hand on his shoulder, looking him over. He tried to shrug the medic off, saying “ –’m fine Kix. Really.”

Kix shook his head in disagreement, bringing one hand up to Tup’s forehead. “You’re a little on the warm side, Tup, and I’ve seen you almost drift off at least three times since you got to the mess.”

“And another four times at the barracks.” Dogma added helpfully. “He’s also been scratching at his neck.”

Tup gave him a betrayed look, muttering a quiet “tattletale” under his breath before reluctantly allowing Kix to pull down the collar of his blacks, revealing a small-but-angry insect bite. 

Kix winced sympathetically. “Sorry, vod’ika. This definitely warrants a trip to medbay. Finish up your ration bar and then we’ll head over. Can you walk there yourself?”

Nodding reluctantly, Tup finished his ration bar with another grumble before moving to get up from the table with unsteady legs. He managed to make it about halfway to medbay before his knees gave a definitive wobble, and his body threatened to topple over. Thankfully, Kix had been following close behind and quickly came alongside him.

“Easy there, buddy, I gotcha.” He said as he wrapped an arm around Tup’s torso, supporting his weight as they walked the rest of the way to medbay. Setting Tup down on the nearest medical bed, Kix was quick to reach for a scanner.

“Just like I expected, you’ve got a low-grade fever, but I’m also seeing that your melatonin levels are higher than standard, which is probably why you’re feeling so tired. I just need to scan your neck to get a better read on that bite.” Kix nodded before helping Tup out of his blacks and into some off-duty reds, both for comfort and to make it easier to treat him. Thankfully, it didn’t look like anything too dangerous.

As he waited for the scanner to cycle through the results, Kix couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face as he watched Tup lean closer and closer to his pillow, eyes drooping sleepily. Finally, the scanner beeped, so Kix took a look at the results.

“Alright; it says here you’ve got all the symptoms of Knitix pox. It’s spread by knytix insects; you must’ve run into a couple of them back on planet. In natborns, it’s pretty contagious, but with us clones it only spreads by direct contact with a vector, so unless you picked up a hitchhiker in your gearbag, we should be alright. I’ll get you started on some antibiotics,” Kix said, looking through a nearby cabinet before coming back with what he needed.

Occupied with setting up an IV and double-checking his findings, he didn’t see that Tup had finally succumbed to sleep. “According to this, I should keep you here in medbay until–” Kix stopped abruptly as his eyes finally settled on Tup again, fast asleep and exhaling in a quiet snore. 

Kix huffed in fond amusement, pulling up the blanket around Tup’s shoulders. Leaning down, he whispered, “Sleep well, vod’ika.”

[cinciri]

Tagging: @satineweek

DAY 3: Tears

Quote prompts: “Sometimes heroes fall, despite their strength”

The Cat, which having already crossed the arch, begins to slow down for some reason, desperately clinging to the gaps between the marble slabs, and Quinlan, still screaming, catches him as he runs, and then, stopping with difficulty, also notices her like everyone else. And they silents at once and looking only at her now.

“Duchess Satine,” Quinlan nods, breathing heavily.

And his disheveled appearance, the way he tries to hold on the struggling Cat, breaks the last wall of her restraint.

“And you also called yourself his best friend, Master Vos,” Satine recalls in an icy tone. “Where were you when his body was burned? Hanging out with your new best friend?”

She waves her hand, pointing to the Cat floundering in his arms.

“Satine,” Padmé jumps up to her. “Let's get out of here.”

“Oh, I will,” mercilessly throwing her hand off her forearm, she glances at everyone with burning look. “I will, but first I will have a good look at all these hypocrites who dared to call themselves his friends.”

“Duchess,” Plo Koon nods at her again, very politely. “The loss of Master Kenobi is very difficult for the Order. He was a hero and…”

“Yes, yes, of course, Master Koon,” Satine nods in response, grinning. “He was a hero, and sometimes heroes fall, despite their strength. But he was not a hero or a Jedi or a general to me. To me he was just a hunam. He was my friend. My true friend.”

“Satine,” Padmé again tries to take her hand, but she, snatching her wrist, moves away from her.

“You are all cowards who don’t have the courage to admit that he meant something to you,” she turns to Anakin, who is just looking away from Padmé, full of despair. “You was like a little brother to him. You told me yourself that he is more than just a friend to you.”

Anakin wants to answer something - to justify himself, no doubt - but she is already looking at Plo Koon.

“You was his main support when Qui-Gon died on Naboo. You replaced him a father whom he never knew… And you,” her eyes, when she looks at Quinlan again, are full of tears, so his outlines are slightly blurred at the edges. “I’ve only seen you once, Quinlan Vos. Two minutes and a dozen sentences, and it already became clear to me how dear you are to him. And you didn't come…”

“Duchess,” Quinlan, taking the noticeably quiet Cat more comfortably, carefully moves closer. “Duchess, please…”

“You didn’t come to say goodbye to him, Quinlan,” she’s shaking all over, and her voice is very hoarse. “You were not with him in the last minutes of his life and did not even come to say last goodbye.”

He takes another step towards her, but Satine, shaking her head, retreats again.

“You are all pathetic, cowardly pretenders! But, unlike all of you, I’m not afraid or ashamed to admit my feelings,” raising her head proudly, she wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I loved him. My ancestors are witnesses to this, I loved him like no one else and will love him until the end of my life! But you bunch of droids will never understand my feelings.”

Continue read on ao3

[sullustangin]

New Fic!

Eva Corolastor is back.

Chapter 1: Near Death Experiences

“I have always loved the stars.”

That could apply to anyone onboard Virtue’s Thief.  Eva knew that as she climbed up onto the hull.  But she was the only one with the energy to sneak out this late and lay out a blanket and just look up.  They were planetside for the first time in what felt like years (but it was actually weeks).

Ma was in quarters; it had been a long flight, so she’d turned in early.  Dad was with her; he’d finished maintenance early and hey, what do you know, in the same place at the same time. 

Eva knew when to make her exit.

“Caution: there are no railings up there.”  Huck called up from his position in the Thief’s hallway.

“Don’t blow your bolts,” Eva answered back, keeping her voice low.  She knew Huck had fancy auditory sensors – probably for hunting prey, but it was perfectly good for hearing pre-teen girls pattering atop the ship.  “I’m just seeing the stars be still, for once.”  Eva craned her neck slightly.  “And a pretty cool view of a planet.”

When Virtue’s Thief was in flight, all the universe was in motion.  Here on Ithor – well, technically, one of the floating city starports above Ithor – it moved so much slower.  It was almost still.

 And Ithor was crazy.  They loved their jungle so much they moved everybody and everything, including their space sheep, to floating platforms within the atmosphere.  So Eva had twice as many reasons to be up on the hull tonight.  She got to watch a planet spin beneath her while outside the Thief and without EV gear. 

And of course, there were the stars.  They were infinite.  Eva was insignificant.  She always took comfort in that.  Universal constants in a constantly changing galaxy.  Eva knew that as a smuggler kid; people like her had to take what they could get.  She’d take the stars, any day –

A pop into the atmosphere interrupted Eva’s train of thought.  That was awful close.

“Observation: atmospheric turbulence in close proximity to the ship” came Huck’s dutiful report. 

But Eva only heard him as background noise as she realized that a massive freighter was hauling ass right toward the Thief.  “We’re already parked here, buddy,” she muttered.

The freighter dipped lower.  And lower –

He was trying to show off for her – buzz her and her ship- --

But this guy had never been to Ithor before – didn’t know how the gravity worked, didn’t know that Eva wasn’t strapped down to the hull –

The wake of air sent her eleven-and-a-half-year-old body flying across the hull.  The rivets and hatches and latches ripped at her clothes, bruised her skin.  The gust took her past the edge and down ---

Down, down, down  -- a hundred feet to the landing pad

(because the landing gear was down and the XS Light was 80 feet tall without it)

Eva opened her mouth to scream but she couldn’t –

She wasn’t even going to get to pilot the Thief.  She didn’t even get to say bye to Hylo –

Or her parents –

But that was later – years?

Suddenly:

…

…

…

White.

…

…

Clarity.

…

This was the wrong time.

…

Deep inside, a twist, as if an organ was churned in the wrong direction.

“I’m dying --!”

“We are being reborn.”

Viscerally, Eva pushed and grabbed at that light to get her the hell away from him.

“Wake up.  We have to go.”

Who?

Who? 

Who?

Who?!

…

A grey blur sped by her eyes, pops of color catching her gaze.  They flew about her, and she could hear them:

Never let them see you hesitate.  Gotta be smooth in every motion –

We love you – always have.

Orion’s Glory to Gloriana –

The title of Captain passed to her automatically.

That’s Hylo the cat.  And I’m gonna do my best to get you home.

Little Girl…

Let’s hit the hyperlanes.  I always feel better after a good caper.

Darmas, do you think she would have liked me?

I will never leave you.

Eva…I’m so sorry.

This kind of fleet can’t last, but I’ve never seen anything like it.

They’re all talking about you out there, Captain.  Calling you the Voidhound.

A swirl of black and she felt the mantle fall upon her shoulders.

Your taste for spies is not for the weak.

Now what do we do about this?

I need you.

New day.  Maybe it will all work out.

What –

What—

WHO

EVA, GET UP HERE RIGHT NOW. WE’RE TAKING OFF.

Eva, time for bed! 

Eva—

Eva?

Eva! 

Eva…

She was alive.

She was awake.

She was Eva Corolastor.  Everything else was ---

~~

The story continues on AO3

[kittystargen3]

Summary: Alternate Universe- What if Anakin's mother survived and Anakin never went dark side. Padme has the twins on Tatooine and survives. Anakin tries to help the surviving Jedi, while still keeping his family secret. Meanwhile Darth Sidious has been crowned emperor and is going after the remaining Jedi. Rumors have it he's looking for a new apprentice. Anakin gets to be a daddy.

Today I published another chapter of Return of the Survivors. Below is a small selection. Go to a link above to read more.

Chapter 94 - How to Kill a Sith

Anakin looked up from his desk and pressed a few buttons to dial a comm.  “Youlao here.  Greetings Master Skywalker, how is your family?”  

“They are well, Master Youlao, and yours?” Anakin bowed his head towards the holo in greeting.  In the old days it would have been very unusual to greet a Jedi in this way, but lately it was becoming almost taboo not to.  

“All are well, Master Skywalker.  My youngest is taking the trials in a few months.”  Master Youlao responded.

“She will do well, I’m sure.” Anakin nodded.  “And how is your task going?”

“It’s go-ing,” she said.  “Look, at this point we have had very minor breakthroughs.  She said two words to me today.  ‘Get stuffed.’ Which normally doesn’t sound like a breakthrough, but when the alternative is complete silence.” She shrugged.

“Would it help if I sent Ahsoka to you?  I understand she was a bit more talkative in her initial interrogation.”  Anakin offered.

“No, I’m afraid she would be just as stubborn, no matter who was asking her the questions.  If you could, ask Master Tano if she knows what methods they used to precipitate Barris Offee’s fall.”

“Methods, does that matter?” Anakin scribbled a note to himself.  

“Oh, it matters quite a lot,” Youlao responded.  

Anakin looked surprised at her.  He was used to the Jedi treating everything as either Dark or Light, and Yoda’s philosophy of how a foot in the dark side is a foot lost to you.  He was expecting the healers he brought in to share that mindset. 

“It matters how we treat the patient.  If it was torture, for instance, there will be triggers we’ll need to avoid.  And if the Force was used, we’d need to replicate the opposite technique if  there is any hope to bring her back…”

“Wait.  Bring her back.  You really think it might be possible?”  

Youlao winced.  “Probably not in any way you are thinking.  We might be able to get her to stabilize briefly to allow for the healing.  Usually such methods are used when the Jedi wanted to interrogate a subject.  Otherwise we’ll have to use an intense flood of light, and it’s rather like a drug at that level.”  

Anakin nodded.  “At the end of the war, Ex Knight Offee was being held in a republic prison for her deeds.  The bombing-”  Anakin looked up and saw the Master nod.  He didn’t want to go into what had happened, and when she recognized it he moved on.  “I don’t believe she had fallen completely at that point.  I mean, she was teetering, but she didn’t actively use the dark side.  She said a lot about the War being un-jedi like and how we were all becoming killers.  She was angry and unstable, I don’t think it would take a lot to push her over the edge.”  Anakin summarized.  He himself never saw any but the first interrogations.  Obi-Wan had been worried Anakin was too unstable to witness it, after Ahsoka left.  And the Master was probably right.  But that didn’t stop him from getting summaries from those knights who did talk to her.

Youlao tapped the sides of her datapad.  “I think it probably took more effort than you’d assume.  Reading the Rebellion’s records,  initially inquisitors were less trained and more sloppy.  It took nearly four years for them to get to the terrors they are now.”  

“Four years of torture, you mean?”  

“It’s certainly possible.”

Anakin nodded serenely.  

“I’ll keep you updated on our progress.”  Master Youlao bowed again.  

“Yes, please do.”  Anakin returned.  “I’ll ask Ahsoka about Barris and tell you if she has any ideas.”  He hoped they did have some luck.  It would be great to be able to shut up a couple of Force Ghosts with some good news for once, but he didn’t say so out loud...    

[horrormaestro-aaaa]

jackie identifies with han solo because if someone told her they love her, she would also simply say, “i know.”

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

Cas wishes that he could say he was frustrated by Dean Winchester’s presence, but that would be a complete and utter fabrication.

The thing is, he probably should be annoyed that this random civil engineering major found his way into an upper-level creative writing class, because everyone else is. Behind Dean’s back, they grumble about him “taking spots from other students” and writing pieces that are “too coarse and experimental.” 

But that’s the sort of thing that makes Cas like him, that makes Cas feel lucky that Dean chose to sit next to him on the first day of class, chose to nudge Cas with one of his work boots and ask in a low whisper, “Did you also forget to bring a pen?”

Since that day, while the other students shun Dean, Cas has become, he hopes, Dean’s friend. They work on assignments together outside of class, meet up at the library at least once a week. Cas learns things like: Dean’s minoring in creative writing, that’s why he’s in this class. Yes, his engineering friends make fun of him for it. He likes to work on cars and has a part-time job at an auto shop (cars are why he likes engineering). Dean likes cowboy movies but also sci-fi (which is why, he claims, Star Wars is perfect. Cas has never seen  the movies so he doesn’t really have an opinion). Dean likes to bake--he’s probably the only college student Cas has met who talks about owning a stand mixer.

At the current moment, Dean’s up in front of their class, reading something he wrote. Cas should be taking notes, because they’re supposed to critique their classmates’ work, but he’s having a lot of trouble paying attention to the words Dean’s saying and not Dean himself. He’s transfixed by the movement of Dean’s mouth as he shapes the words, by the change in his voice’s cadence as he switches characters in the piece. 

When Dean sits back down next to Cas, the spell is broken, and Cas realizes he wrote nothing down. He quickly scribbles good movement and pacing before moving on to the next student, who’s already shuffling their papers together at the podium. 

Dean steals Cas’s notebook and writes in his sideways scrawl in the margin seriously? no problems? 

They’ve been doing this since the second week of class, when one of the students read a piece they wrote about milk as a metaphor for sadness--this writing is making me sad, Dean had written, angling his paper towards Cas, and then Cas had drawn a truly horrible milk carton underneath it, and Dean nearly had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. From then on, they always passed notes. 

i wasn’t paying attention so i just decided it was good, Cas writes back. 

ouch. 

not like that. Cas sighs as he writes. you said something about lemons, right? 

lemon squares that my mom used to make. Dean pauses writing but doesn’t put down his pen, as if he’s considering something. i could show you how to to make them sometime. if you want. 

There’s clapping, and Cas realized he didn’t take notes for this person, either. He nudges Dean to shelve the conversation so that neither of them fail their critiques. 

It’s still hard to pay attention, though. Sure, they’ve hung out, but it’s always been on campus--in the quad by the fountain, in the library behind the archives, in the union’s food court, talking about Isaac Asimov between bites of fast food lo mein. 

Somehow this feels different. 

Finally, class is over, and everyone starts packing up and chattering. Dean doesn’t say anything at first as he shoves his notebook into his backpack, but then he glances over at Cas. “You don’t have to say yes,” Dean says. “It was just an idea.” His cheeks are red.

“No, I’d like to,” Cas replies in a rush before he loses the nerve. 

“Great. Friday?”

“Friday?” Cas squints at Dean. “Don’t people go to parties?”

Dean shrugs. “We could watch a movie, too. Since society failed you and you haven’t seen A New Hope.”

“You seem to have an ulterior motive,” Cas jokes.

“Oh, I do.” Dean swings his backpack on. “I’m hoping you decide that you like me.” 

(Cas does like him, and on Friday he lets Dean know. They end up rewatching A New Hope.)

[x-childish-x]

could i request an obi wan x femreader fanfic where anakin says, “I see the way you look at her master. That’s how I look at padme everyday,” to obi wan? and then later in the story, padme and anakin say prompt #1 to each other (from the main prompts list) after seeing obi wan and reader sharing a kiss? i hope this isn’t too long sorry (T_T)

That Look

Pairing: Obi-Wan x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: FLUFF, kissing, female reader, librarian reader

Word Count: 1,305

A/N: AHHH! THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST IT WAS SO CUTE! Oh my gosh, I'm sorry if you didn't want a librarian!reader but the idea of Obi-Wan with a librarian reader just melts me in a different way. Anywayssss, I really hope you enjoy this, and that it's what you wanted. I appreciate all the support, feedback is ALWAYS appreciated! Sorry, it’s a bit long!

Summary: Anakin teases Obi-Wan about the look he gives you, not knowing it'd help your relationship with Obi-Wan move to the next level.

PART TWO

(gif not mine!)

"Hello, Master Kenobi, Master Skywalker, Padawan Tano," You smiled softly at the three Jedi's entering your library.

"Hello (Y/n)," The trio said in unison.

"So," You started, walking from your cart where you'd been putting books back into their spots, "How can I help the three of you?"

"Well, we--" 

Anakin was quick to cut off his Master, a large smirk on his face, "Obi-Wan wanted to come to see you. He insisted the books Ahsoka would need we'd only find here, even though I got mine from the upstairs library in the temple."

A blush crept onto yours and Obi-Wan's cheeks, making Ahsoka and Anakin smile, "Well, I uh... well."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, quickly stepping in for Obi-Wan's stuttering clutter of words, "I wanted to come to visit you anyways. I know I still haven't returned that book on the history of the Old Republic."

You smiled at the younger girl, "Oh, it's fine, Ahsoka, I'll extend your date. I assume you need the next level of Jedi books?"

The young girl nodded, "Please."

"Of course, I'll get them real quick."

Anakin smirked, patting Obi-Wan's back in an attempt to make the older man stop giving you literal heart eyes. The Jedi Knight gave his Master a shove, sending him after you as Ahsoka laughed at Master Kenobi's awkwardness. It was something she felt she hadn't truly seen until just now, watching the older man stumble after you with a slight hop in his step.

"(Y/n)!" Obi-Wan called, making you turn to him with a smile, "Sorry, eh.. about Anakin, you know how he can be."

"It's fine Obi-Wan," You felt a blush slowly begin to creep up your neck and onto your cheeks as the Jedi-Master fell into step beside you, "I was hoping you'd come to visit me soon anyways. It's quite lonely being the only one running the lower division of the Jedi Archives." 

The older man smiled widely, taking a second to watch you struggle to reach one specific book Ahsoka needed. Smugly, the Jedi used the force to bring the book out and into your outstretched hand. You mumbled a quiet thank you before moving to grab the last book Ahsoka needed.

"(Y/n)," Obi-Wan spoke suddenly, taking the books from your arms and clearing his throat, "I was... I was wondering if you'd like to... grab coffee sometime?"

A smile broke across your face as you nodded, "I'd love that, Obi-Wan."

With that, the two of you walked back towards the younger Jedi's. Obi-Wan handed the books to Ahsoka, and Anakin simply smiled at you, watching the way Obi-Wan's gaze fell back onto you. You made some small talk with Ahsoka and Anakin before the trio declared it was time to leave, and you retreated to your cart, putting away books.

"You have that look," Anakin teased the older man immediately after they sent Ahsoka to drop her books off in her room.

"What look?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"You know," Anakin smiled, nudging the older man, "That look."

"Which is??" Obi-Wan questioned, rubbing a hand to his chin.

" Oh please, Obi-Wan, I see the way you look at her, Master. That's how I look at Padme every day," Anakin scoffed, smirking at his Master.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Obi-Wan replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Please!" Anakin laughed, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're a flustered little boy around (y/n)!"

"Anakin, someone could hear you," Obi-Wan warned, his eyes looking around casually, "Then we'd both be in trouble."

Anakin smirked, turning to his Master, "Are you saying you're opposed to the idea of leaving the Order for her?"

"N-no..." Obi-Wan sighed, "If she said the word, I'd leave the Order immediately. But she's not my girlfriend."

"Please, Master! You don't fool anyone by saying that!" Ahsoka's voice rang out as she joined the two older men.

Obi-Wan sighed, turning and beginning to lead the two away, "Why am I talking to the two of you about this?"

"Well--"

Obi-Wan quickly raised his hand, cutting off Anakin, "Rhetorical question, Anakin."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

It'd been a few days since your coffee date with Obi-Wan, and it'd become quite routine for him to walk you to and from work each day. His former Padawan picked up on it quickly but stayed quiet on the matter. Anakin didn't want to be scolded by Padme again, not after her lecture about teasing the older man for finally being happy.

Anakin just happened to be lucky enough to live in the same apartment complex as you, so he got to see Obi-Wan drop you off each night, which he enjoyed. Maker knew he couldn't wake up early enough to see Obi-Wan pick you up to take you to work, missing all the quick cheek-kisses his Master would give you.

You knew you liked Obi-Wan immensely, and you felt it was mutual judging by his actions. While you knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi and technically couldn't have any connections, you still hoped that something would change. That the Jedi Master would make a move, confirm it was all mutual, and just kiss you! God, you just wanted him to press his lips to yours! You weren't getting any younger, and the war wasn't getting any better!

"Look," Anakin mumbled, elbowing Padme, "There they are."

"Oh, Ani, won't you leave Obi-Wan alone!" Padme rolled her eyes at her husband's behavior, but she still looked down from their balcony, watching you and Obi-Wan interact.

"Thank you, again," You smiled widely at Obi-Wan, "For the ride."

"Of course," Obi-Wan returned the smile, pulling your hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "It was my pleasure."

"I don't work tomorrow," You reminded Obi-Wan with a slight pout.

His eyes dropped to your lips, admiring the way your bottom lip jutted out just slightly, "That's truly a shame,"

He gulped, his eyes struggling to focus back on yours as he watched your lips move as you spoke, "But I'll see you the day after, right? Early for our coffee date?"

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling softly as his eyes finally locked back onto yours, "Of course."

A peaceful silence filled the air, and like most times when you were left in silence with the Jedi Master, you found your eyes drifting to his lips and wondering what they'd feel like against your own. You knew your 'goodbye' was lasting far too long now, but you hated saying goodbye when you wouldn't see him the next day. After a few more seconds--and noticing that Obi-Wan's eyes were also on your lips--you felt a spike of confidence rise within you, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"So, Master Kenobi, are you gonna kiss me, or am I going to have to kiss you myself?"

A soft laugh fell from his lips as he quickly leaned across his speeder, pulling you in until your lips met. It was gentle and full of passion, exactly how you had always imagined it. He held you like you were the galaxy's finest jewel as he kissed you, only making you swoon more at the Jedi's lips molded with yours.

Above, Anakin was frantically gripping Padme's arm, who herself, was frozen in shock.

"Oh, maker! Maker! I knew it, kriff I knew it!" Anakin cheered quietly, "I called it, oh, Obi-Wan is so getting teased tomorrow! I knew it! I told you, they're good for each other."

Padme smiled at her husband's childish reaction, "You think so?"

"Please!" Anakin laughed, "They were destined to be together!"

Padme simply giggled, walking back into their apartment with a shake of her head. She couldn't say she disagreed because Obi-Wan and you truly were a perfect pair. A pair that was destined to be together.

[sunflowernyx]

Jyn isn’t looking for an excuse.

Life goes on and on, and she’s finally gotten used to being a part of the Rebel Alliance.

She sneaks out of the dorm in the early morning, the first in the training hall, grabs a quick shower once she’s worked up a sweat, and goes for breakfast with whomever’s around and not on mission. She puts out an extra mug of caf with cream and sugar, when they have the latter, and watches Cassian Andor slide into his chair like a man who’s spent the better half of the night doing paperwork. Then, she goes about her day, either on missions or training new recruits or helping whereever else she’s able.

It’s a type of peace she hasn’t known before. Not the freedom from war, but life with a routine, with people she can trust her back to. 

Sometimes it’s enough to have a place to return to.

And Jyn never hesitates to return to this place, to bickering with Kaytu, to messing with Melshi or Kes in the ring, to laughing with Shara or looking up to Hera.

To sneaking up on Cassian too late in the evening when he’s making a new pot of stale caf, or sitting on a crate somewhere going over plans for an infiltration mission, or dragging him off course for a break.

No, Jyn isn’t looking for excuses anymore.

She doesn’t need them.

She ducks into the large empty red tent so close to the centre of the fair, leaving the desaturated colours of pre-dawn behind. And finds Cassian chopping away on vegetables, coated in the red light from the tent.

Even today.

“You know,” she says, leaning against the counter beside him and watches the way the black space surrounding him expands in response to her presence. “I’m pretty sure this festival or fair, or whatever, is meant to be fun. Not more work.”

She slides a mug across the counter to him, and he glances at her over his shoulder, eyes glowing with appreciation for the gesture.

“I had fun yesterday,” he reminds her, voice hoarse as it usually is so early in the morning.

Jyn pushes back the urge to roll her eyes to an audience of none, and settles instead for watching him take a long swig of the mug she’d brought him, the little smile that tugs into the corner of his lips, the way the space around him expands invitingly once more.

It’s getting more and more difficult to ignore, the urge to move forwards, to dive into the endless beauty of cosmos, and never look back.

But Jyn shakes the urge away, ignoring the embarrassed flutter that thought brings to her chest. And settles for deciding she isn’t going to let him work today either.

“Here,” she says, grabbing a knife from the table and a carrot. “I’ll help.”

“Jyn!” Cassian complains as she bumps her hip against him. “That’s dangerous.”

He holds up the knife for show, and Jyn grins. “Come on, chef,” she teases. “I know you’re better with sharp objects than that.”

Cassian pulls back a little, his eyes growing wide. And for a moment he looks unravelled at the edges, soft, his eyes reflecting stars that she cannot see. And then he seems to ground himself back to the moon, so they spend the better part of the morning fluctuating between nagging, bickering, and laughing.

By the time Jyn leaves the tent, she’s a fair amount better with several knife techniques she’d never learnt before. Techniques that have nothing to do with combat, and everything to do with cooking.

The contrast makes her smile.

[tup-ika-5385]

Summary:

A Sequel to the fic "A Series of Hard Knocks," focusing on Tup and Dogma. Now six months after the trials of Umbara, Tup and Dogma are growing into themselves as well-established members of the 501st. Tup's been training more with Fives and Jesse, set on an ARC trooper promotion, and even Dogma has found a place in medical, where his intense focus and organization are both needed and appreciated. While helping Dogma study for his medic exams, discoveries are made, and help comes from unlikely sources as they unearth a foreboding plot.

Chapter 2 Summary:

Fives, Tup, and Dogma learn more about Tup's condition, and Hardcase makes a new friend.

Chapter 2: Just Sleep Deprivation

Racing down the empty Kaminoan hallway, Kix’s pounding footsteps echoed loudly on the duracrete floors.

He pushed himself faster as he remembered the barely hidden panic in Dogma’s comm.

“Kix, we need you in med-bay. I-It’s Tup.”

The few troopers he’d seen in the hallways knew better than to stop a medic on a tear towards medbay, and the front desk was unmanned when he got there, so it wasn’t long before he was entering the room in question. Opening the door, the first thing he spotted was Tup sitting on the exam table, hand in a plaster cast and tear tracks on his face. There were a few other weirdly-placed bandages visible under his off-duty reds, from what he could see, but the combination of covered injuries made no sense to his medic-trained mind.

“What happened?” He asked, moving closer to take a look at the casted arm. He didn’t know why they hadn’t just stuck it in a bone-knitter if a break was the issue.

Dogma answered first, and Kix was surprised to notice that Fives was present as well. “Tup was helping me study for my junior medic’s exam— he’s not injured, those were for practice. But I was doing the standard assessments, and Tup… he had some concerning results. I thought he was faking at first, for practice.” Dogma wrung his hands together anxiously even as he stood up straight to deliver his report. 

“Can I see?” Kix asked, and Dogma nodded, handing Kix the report before turning back towards Tup to give his hand a squeeze. Tup himself didn’t really respond, eyes worryingly unfocused, although he did lean on slightly to his brother’s touch.

Reading through the results, Kix was quick to agree that something was going on. Troopers didn’t just get… vision deficits and coordination issues without an explanation, and as he shone a penlight in Tup’s eyes to rule out a concussion, his worry increased. 

“Kix…?” Tup asked, wincing at the light, starting to come back to himself a little bit.

“I’m here, vod’ika. Just double-checking some things. How often have you been spacing out like that?” He asked, keeping his tone gentle. If not for these results, he would’ve chalked it up to the late hour, but now that he was looking for it, there were some small differences to Tup’s reaction times, even as he turned towards Kix to form a response.

“I dunno, maybe a couple times over the past few days. Haven’t noticed it myself that much, but I think it happened more when I was stressed.”

Kix nodded in understanding. He’d always worried about Tup’s headaches masking something more serious, given that most troopers didn’t even have headaches, and without Dogma’s exams, it would’ve been easy to miss this… whatever it was, especially because they were supposed to be redeployed in two days, right after Dogma finished his test. But he trusted Dogma’s assessment; something was definitely wrong here, and it worried him.

“Alright, Tup. After looking at the results, I agree with Dogma that something is probably going on, but we won’t know for sure until we take some scans. The Kaminoans like to do stress tests in these situations, but I’ve never been a fan of them personally, so we’ll be doing a more intense brain scan instead. There is a small risk of swelling and worsening of symptoms, but in most cases, it’s relatively minor.” 

Tup swallowed, looking nervous, but after an encouraging nod from Fives, he leaned into Dogma’s silent support and responded. “Okay… let’s do the scan.”

Kix gave him a comforting smile before moving to the control pad on the side of the room to set up the scanner. Inputting his authorization code, he frowned at the panel. “That’s odd. It’s saying that Level 5 atomic brain scans require authorization from either a Kaminoan or a natborn instructor. It’s been a while since I’ve used this type of scanner, I admit, but I don’t remember that being a requirement.”

Kix muttered a curse at the useless machine and Dogma shared a worried look with Tup. Given Dogma’s uncertain status after Krell’s death, they were both uncomfortably familiar with the consequences if the Kaminoans got word of Tup’s unexplained symptoms. 

Thankfully, the anxious silence didn’t last long as Fives stepped in, looking to Kix for permission before getting out a datapad and plugging into the system controls. He wasn’t a natural at programming it like Echo had been, but his hard-won computer skills came in handy more often than he’d like to admit, and it wasn’t long before he bypassed the login, stepping away to give Kix room to work. “All yours, vod.”

Kix smirked, glad that Fives’ ARC training was being used for good, rather than to escape medbay or turn off the bed-alarms like he’d done on one particularly memorable occasion. “And here I thought you ARC troopers were only good for your looks.” 

“What can I say? We’re the full package, vod.” Fives snarked back, moving out of the way for Kix to continue, now that he had access to the scanner. 

After another few seconds, Kix nodded. “Looks like we’re good to go. Are you ready, Tup?”

“Dogma should do it. It’s his practice case.” Tup mumbled, nodding as he laid down on the exam table, giving Dogma a faint smile. 

Kix gave Dogma a questioning look. “You feeling up for it, Dogma?”

Pushing down nervousness and dread, Dogma stepped forward to man the controls. “Yes sir… Fives, could you…?” Almost without needing to be asked, Fives took Dogma’s place keeping Tup company, only letting go of his hand when the scanner started to lower. 

The low vibrating of the scanner whirred unpleasantly as Dogma continued, slow and steady. Kix stood by to assist, just in case, but it wasn’t necessary. He grimaced as he heard a low groan from Tup, but before too long it was done, and the scanner was being removed so they could surround Tup once again. 

Once the scanner had been moved, Tup sat up unsteadily with a grimace. “Well, that didn’t exactly tickle. How long ‘till we see the results?”

“Not long,” Kix responded, waiting for the scans to upload, and finally they did, transmitting to Fives’ datapad so Tup could see them. Now, Tup had never seen a brainscan before, and neither had Fives, but the red circle on the scan didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“What the kriff is that?!” Fives asked.

“I don’t know, why are you asking me?!” Tup cried, still a little shaken from the scan.

Looking between the screen and Kix, Dogma asked in a low tone, “Is that a tumor?” His stomach filled with dread and his heart dropped into his boots, but he knew what the answer would be.

Kix bit his lip, sending Tup a concerned look. “Whatever it is, it’s pressing up against Tup’s frontal lobe. The swelling is probably what’s been causing all your symptoms, Tup.” He didn’t want to cause a panic, but internally he agreed that it didn’t look good. 

“W-What should we do?” Tup asked, looking to his brothers as his anchor. Fives was quick to put a steadying hand on his shoulder, and Dogma didn’t protest when an outstretched hand pulled him closer. 

Kix opened his mouth to respond when all of a sudden, they heard the rattle of supply crates outside the room and a distinct increase in the amount of traffic in medbay. Glancing at his chrono with a curse, he realized it was nearly 0600, and that their unoccupied corner of medbay wasn’t going to stay that way for long.

“We should get out of here before someone comes looking.”

“B-But what about Tup?!” Fives cried in dismay. Dogma gritted his teeth, clenching his unoccupied fist as tightly as he could, but morbidly, he understood Kix’s reasoning.

“I don’t like it, but the thing in his head isn’t going anywhere, but if the Kaminoans get their hands on him… it won’t be good. We’re not going to leave it in there, but we need to strategize, come up with a plan.” Kix sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Looking up at his worried brothers, Tup gave them a half-smile, mustering up his usual charm to reassure them, despite the sharp pain in his head and the weird disconnect he’d felt since the scan. “I’ll be alright, Fives. Like Kix said, it’s been there for a while; what’s one more day?”

And as they snuck out of the medbay, making sure to wipe the main computer first, Tup pushed himself forward even as he started leaning more heavily on his brothers than he had been before. Probably just sleep deprivation.

________________________

Letting out a jaw-cracking yawn, Hardcase rubbed bleary eyes as he made his way towards his morning rehab session. It would be one of his last ones, at least with Patch, since the rehab medic was finally returning to the 104th after a six-month posting with the 501st after Umbara. 

He’d left Dogma and Kix with enough instruction to continue helping the other troopers with their exercises, and he said he’d always be open for a comm if they ever needed help. But Hardcase was finally starting to get used to riding the waves of his chronic pain, between keeping up with his stretches, meds, and recognizing when his Z-6 just wasn’t in the cards for the day. Even the worst of his hypertrophic scarring was doing a little better since they arrived on Kamino, where they’d managed to pester the Kaminoans into allowing laser surgery that would usually be considered cosmetic and unnecessary. 

Walking down the hallways, Hardcase focused his thoughts on the therapy session ahead. Patch had informed him that the group today would be pretty small, given that the rest of the 501st was halfway to Ringo Vinda, but there’d be another trooper there with pretty similar experiences to Hardcase, with an added dose of traumatic brain injury. 

Maybe they’d have some thoughts on weapon modifications; Hardcase himself had gotten pretty creative recently when it came to modifying his heavy gun, figuring out which components were necessary safety features, and which ones were more kilos than they were worth. The thought brought a grin to his face as he entered the room, surprised to find it mostly empty, save one. Patch must be running late.

Hardcase did a double-take when he glanced at the other trooper in the room, if he could even call them that. Even sitting down, the other trooper easily dwarfed the standard issue chair he’d taken residence in, and Hardcase paused for a beat as he saw the other’s facial scar. It was definitely smaller than his own, but he was surprised to see that their hypertrophic scarring was almost worse than his own. Usually, with access to bacta, most scars wouldn’t look that bad, even in the rehab stage, and while his own difficulties were explained by Krell, the traitorous shabuir who’d denied him basic medical care, timely medical intervention usually helped with the worst of it. 

He noticed the other trooper shrink into themselves a little bit and Hardcase sheepishly realized that he’d been staring. Not wanting to prolong the awkwardness, he approached the other trooper, sticking a hand out. 

“The name’s Hardcase! I’m a heavy gunner from the 501st. What’s your name, vod?” Even with the obvious physical differences, he’d recognize a brother anywhere.

“Uh, my name’s Wrecker– I-I’m from Clone Force 99.” Wrecker responded with a lopsided grin. He pushed down some frustration as his voice stuttered, like it had since his injury. Tech told him that it’d get better over time, and it already had, but he hated how it made him stick out even more than usual, and some of the less-considerate regs had taken to teasing him for it. 

Thankfully, this reg didn’t seem to be one of them, and as he turned around to pull up a chair, Wrecker caught a glimpse of a rather large scar on the back of Hardcase’s head and continuing under his blacks.

“Hey, we match!” He exclaimed before he could stop himself. ‘Pointing out other people’s scars is rude,’ Hunter’s voice repeated in his mind, and he grimaced. That was another thing he’d noticed since his injury. He hadn’t had much of a filter before the accident, but it seemed like every other conversation, he’d stumble across another line, earning his brothers’ ire, or worse, the Kaminoans.

Thankfully, this reg– Hardcase laughed with an easy smile before sitting down. “We do! Practically twins, if I do say so myself.” He said, flexing a predictably reg-sized bicep, earning a returning laugh from Wrecker. Unfortunately, this sparked a few more laughs than he’d been expecting, and the reg’s smile turned a little strained and confused by the time that Wrecker finally stopped, panting a little bit.

“S-Sorry. ‘S from my head injury. Once I start laughing, it’s hard to stop.” He explained, and the reg made a noise of understanding before nodding. “Makes sense; I think there’s a Commando in the 212th who’s got the same thing.”

“Really?! I-I’m a Commando too!” Wrecker grinned, realizing belatedly that he’d stated the obvious, given his nonstandard armor, but too excited to care. 

“Yeah; his name’s Gregor. Only met him a few times, but he seems like a solid vod, if a little chatty. Not that I can really complain though.” He grinned self-deprecatingly. “Kix, my batcher, always says that my mouth moves faster than my common sense, but that’s usually just because he hasn’t had his morning kaff yet.”

“Sounds like my Sarg, H-Hunter.” Wrecker offered.

“Heh, well Kix is a medic, which is twice as bad! My trainers always said there was a leak in my growth tube or something, which made me hyperactive, I guess, but I say it’s just my natural charm. Not my fault he can’t handle all this before 0900.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair, earning a returned smile from Wrecker, who was finally starting to relax in the other’s presence.

“Tech says I’ve got bad impulse control.” Wrecker said, earning an encouraging look from Hardcase.

“Yeah? We've probably got that in common, then.”

“Yeah. He says it’s part of m-my head injury, but he suspects it’s always been there, with my enhancements an’ all.” 

“Enhancements?” Hardcase asked, looking intrigued.

“Yeah! I’ve got extra strength, compared to most troopers. I-I can lift a gunship if I try.” He grinned proudly. 

“I’m a little jealous, vod.” Hardcase returned the grin. “I’ve been working on it in rehab, but on bad days, I can barely lift my Z-6.” He was only in his lower armor for rehab, so he didn’t hesitate to shrug off his shirt to show Wrecker his scar. 

Wrecker gave a noise of admiration as he saw the extent of his scarring, as well as the detailed tattoo-work of a Krayt dragon covering most of it. “I got this blowing up a Seppie supply ship! Still gives me trouble most days, but Patch, the rehab medic, he’s got all these ideas to help manage it, which is great. Speaking of which, where is he?”

Wrecker looked towards the door with a shrug just as Patch ran in, panting slightly. “Sorry I’m late, vode! Kix said he’d wake me, but I guess he forgo– Hardcase, where is your shirt?!” 

Patch asked, looking briefly scandalized, prompting an uncontrollable fit of laughter from both troopers. And as Wrecker wiped tears out of his eyes, he decided that maybe some regs weren't so bad.

[ithebookhoarder]

Prequel Star Wars (Head-canons): Dealing with a sick reader

A/N: After the request for these head canons for the original trio I kind of got inspired for the other trios too... oops?

Masterlist: 

Anakin:

Ok. There’s only one word for Anakin when you’re sick: worrier.

Yep. This man is on red alert real quick the minute you mention even thinking you feel a bit under the weather. In fact, he’d have you back in your chambers and buried under a pile of blankets before you can even try to tell him it isn’t necessary.

“You can’t be too careful, and you do feel rather warm. You may have a fever-”

“Anakin! Say that once you’ve felt my forehead again, but with your non-robotic hand this time.”

“Oh.”

It’s rather sweet actually, watching the way Anakin scurries about getting anything and everything you could possibly need. 

It’s also ironic considering this is the man who always insists he is fine, even when he has blaster wounds all over him. He may have been adversed to letting people take care of him, but he’s only too eager to take care of you. 

After all, since his mother died, you are all he really has in the way of family. He’s not about to let something as simple as a cold kill you. 

So, you let him fuss, knowing it’s just as good for him as it is for you, to let him play nurse maid for a while. 

“Do you need more pillows? I also can get Obi-wan to get some more of that tea you like from the market too if you want.” 

“I’m fine, Ani.”

“Are you sure? You still look pale-“

“Just come cuddle with me, ok? Just a for a while?”

Needless to say, he’s only too happy to cradle you in his arms and let you drift off to sleep against him, softly humming under his breath as he brushes the hair off of you face. 

This is how it stays for the next few days or so, until you’re finally strong enough to get back up and move around the temple. 

Even then, Anakin is like a shadow, following you around incase you’re wrong and it turns out you’re not strong enough yet to be up and about. 

“Ani, honey, I’m fine. I promise. I’m not made of glass, you don’t have to always worry something’s going to break me.” 

He knows you’re right, even if he’s reluctant to admit it. So, he settles for a kiss and a compromise that you at least let Ahsoka keep an eye on you while you work. It has been nearly a week since either of you left your quarters and people were going to start getting suspicious soon if he didn’t let you be by yourself. 

However, he doesn’t need to worry. 

It’s only a day later he starts coughing and feeling sick himself. 

It’s hard not to laugh at the irony as you take his arm and start hauling him back to bed, ready to return the favour. What was one more week of seclusion, just the two of you? At least this time you’d get to play nurse maid. 

Obi-Wan: 

Unlike Anakin, Obi-wan is rather calm when it comes to handling any kind of problem. So, when he finds you slumped over, face down, in the text you’d been trying to read in the archives, he merely chuckles.

“Darling, wake up. You fell asleep again.”

“Obi?” You blink, groaning as you try to sit up without falling over from the sudden dizziness you feel rushing through you.  

Of course, one look at you is enough to tell him something is definitely wrong with you. 

“Oh dear, you look dreadful.”

“Wow. Such a charmer.”

“I try,” he teases, helping you up and wrapping an arm around you as he starts to escort you back to your rooms. You need some rest, clearly, if you’ve become rundown enough to catch some kind of bug. It’s probably the same one that’s been going around the younglings recently.

“Here we are. Let’s get you changed and settled in to bed, alright?”

His voice is so soft and soothing as he mothers you, seeing to your every need with barely a complaint. He has you out of your robes and into something comfy in the blink of an eye. He also makes you some tea and retrieves some medication from his bathroom cabinet, insisting you take some before sleeping. 

Obi-wan is also a patient man. Being Master to Anakin for the last ten years has ensured that, meaning he is more than prepared for your whining and moaning. 

He simply smiles, laughing at the rather adorable pout you wear whenever he tries to get you to take some more medication or agree to stay in bed for another day. 

“But I have a report due tomorrow for Master Fisto-“

“I’ve already explained the situation to him. He has someone else finishing it for him.”

“Well, I also have that class with the younglings-”

“Which Master Yoda has also agreed to cover, so you have nothing to worry about except recovering, alright?”

It is alright, despite you pretending otherwise. When else do you get to spend so much time along together? In fact, despite feeling like death warmed up, you rather like letting him take care of you and entertaining you with whatever book he’s been reading lately. 

He always looks happiest when he has you nestled under his arm, and a book in his free hand. Needless to say, he has no problems reading you off to sleep every night, watching as you drift off by the time he’s finished another chapter. 

“Sleep well, my love.” 

And you do. You sleep remarkably well with Obi-wan next to you which is why, even after you’re better, you’re quick to invite him to sleep in your bed as many nights as you can.  

You’re also eager to return the favour and read to him instead, as he eventually falls asleep to the sound of your voice night after night. 

Who knew the great General Kenobi was so adorable when asleep?  

Padme:

Now, Padme may be royalty, but she is a public servant first and foremost. Her entire life is dedicated to the service of others, so when she sees you struggling to keep yourself upright at your desk, she is all over you. 

“Y/N? What is it? Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine, Padme. It’s just stress.”

“Sure you are. Why else have you been staring at that page for the last hour and a half?” 

She pauses, frowning at you and trying not to roll her eyes at your stoic nature. On one hand, it’s rather ironic for her to scold you when she herself has been known to burn the candle at both ends. However, there comes a point when it was impossible to ignore your body’s obviously worsening condition. 

So, she swiftly orders you to bed and instructs a physician to check nothing is terribly wrong with you - even if you insist it isn’t necessary. 

“Well, it is to me, alright?” 

And of course, how can you say no to that sweet face when she pouts and bats her eyelids? 

“Ugh! Fine!”

One annoyingly tedious check up later, you’ve been diagnosed with a mild stomach bug and told to rest for the remainder of the week. 

“Here. I have some juice for you. You need fluids if you’re going to recover quicker.” 

You smirk at the idea that a queen is serving you as she bursts into your room the following day, carrying a tray laden with fruit and a pitcher of your favourite juice. 

You’re quick to thank her, downing the glass within seconds, much to her amusement. 

“Thirsty are we?”

“And bored,” you whine, grinning as Padme passes you a data pad with a knowing wink. “You angel!”

“Hardly. You get one hour to work, ok? Then I’m taking it back and you’re having a nap? Understood?”

It seems like a fair enough compromise as you sit up and read the briefings she’s downloaded for you. In fact, by the time your hour is up, your eyes are drooping and you’re struggling to sit up by yourself. 

“No protests? I am surprised.”

She clearly isn’t, but she’s too kind to say so as she kisses your forehead and clambers in to bed next to you as you nestle in close.

The soft scent of her perfume and the sound of her heartbeat is all the lullaby you need as you let yourself grab a few more hours of sleep. 

A few days of this routine, and of Padme’s diligent care, and you’re back to your old self in no time. 

In fact, a small part of you rather looks forward to the next time either one of you are sick given how nice it is to have the time to spend together. 

So, you still insist on taking a nap together every afternoon despite being off bed rest. “Merely as a precaution” - or so you insist as you steal Padme from her office every day without fail for a small escape. “Wouldn’t want our favourite Senator to fall sick now, would we?”  

[obiwanobi]

listen to this AU: obi-wan sleeps with a random guy in the outer rim, realises the day after that he lacked a force signature (aka he hid it), gets suspicious but doesn't meet the guy until like three years later. they sleep with each othr again, they get the other's name (surprise it's anakin), obi-wan thinks he's a pilot, anakin just thinks obi-wan is a regular jedi, not the famous one from the holonet BECAUSE HE'S THAT STUPID. fast forward, they've met several times, slept with eachother 1/2

BUT also bonded, they kinda like each other now, obi.wan looks forward to meeting the handsome arrogant pilot with suspicious jobs, anakin likes the handsome jedi even though he knows he probably shouldn't BECASUE HE HAS A SECRET, also they've avoided the whole force signature thing. one day they meet again. on dooku's ship. anakin has a lightsaber A RED ONE, and obi-wan's like YOU'RE A SITH?? and anakin is like YOU'RE THAT OBI-WAN KENOBI? 2/?

so it turns out, anakin is a sith apprentice because he and dooku/palpatine made a deal, his apprenticeship for his mother's freedom, so he's been secretly training under dooku but never really fought in the war, only doing weird solo missions so obi-wan has never heard of him but without slept and maybeee just fallen in love with a SITH and anakin is super scared of dooku/palpatine, so he's torn between trying to kill obi and getting punished harshly if he doesn't ?/?

but yeah there's this big drama about palpatine being a sith lord, obi-wan being in love with anakin, anakin wanting to help his unofficial boyfriend but also scred of what his master will do to him or his mother, and hopefully this AU has a happy ending with palpatine dying and shmi surviving but i'm not sure. and yeah i was supposed to be anonymous when writing this but forgot so now you know my guilty pleasure aka obikin and star wars

(it’s alright, I don’t have to post your username if you don’t want other people to know 😘) 

my god, this is SO GOOD. I adore the idea of them casually having sex before catching feelings and realising who they are, what a perfect trope.

The post was getting a bit long, so have some more ideas under the cut! 

In an always-a-sith!Anakin AU, I like to think that Obi-Wan doesn’t get a padawan for a while (and probably think that because he barely made it as a padawan himself, he’s not the right person to teach future Jedi,) so it gives him plenty of time to take missions that let him gallivant around the galaxy and be his flirting and daring self without restriction for ten glorious years. So a one night stand with the gorgeous pilot (probably a spice runner, but hey, Obi-Wan isn’t here to judge,) with the arrogance of someone who’s never been praised and loved enough in his life? It’s precisely what Obi-Wan does best. 

At first, Anakin probably thought that it would be fun to sleep with a Jedi, you know, for the irony, but Obi-Wan is strangely pleasant, charming and witty. Not at all cold, moralistic and straight-laced, like other darksiders described the Jedi Order, and he hides behind his charming demeanours and smooth voice a surprisingly daredevil side, which is... very hot, if you ask Anakin.

And the sex is great, so when they meet once again a few months later, it becomes an unspoken agreement that if they’re on the same planet/close to each other, they could... catch up more regularly. It works well, so well that when Anakin sends him a message to tell him that yes, he’s on Coruscant for one rotation, but don’t expect anything from me Obi-Wan, I’m sick, cold, feverish, miserable and absolutely not in the mood, Obi-Wan shows up with medicine and his favourite pastries, before spending the night checking his temperature and fussing over his eating habits. No one has ever taken care of him like that since his mom.

The same night, the news report another great victory for the Republic thanks to the famous Negotiator, and Anakin snorts, says that it’s a very dumb nickname, and what’s his name again? Ben or something? but each time the reporter says his full name Anakin sneezes and each time there is footage of Obi-Wan on screen Anakin goes to the fresher, and Obi-Wan probably thinks he’s the stupidest person in the galaxy and he loves him so much.

Obi-Wan knows he should question Anakin about why he’s always showing up not too far from shady businesses and galaxy-wide conflicts, but Anakin can be very distracting, and his job is not something Obi-Wan wants to know too much about. After all, not talking about the contraband and the flagrant illegality of it all makes it easier to turn a blind eye to it. 

And as you say, the day comes when they finally meet as Jedi and Sith in a real battle, and after a few minutes of “you’re a Sith?” “You’re the famous Jedi who leads half of the Republic’s fleet and you never told me?? I thought you were spending more time teaching at the Temple or gathering old and boring archive files!” “Excuse me, YOU’RE A SITH.” I like to imagine a long fight scene à la Mr and Mrs Smith, with a lot of dirty moves and a lot of “so that time you said you couldn’t see me because you were busy with a large delivery on a sector suspiciously close to Separatist space...?” “yeah, I was picking up one of Grievous’ platoon.” “...I can’t believe I introduced you to my padawan!”

They’re both angry and betrayed, and it ends up with both of them tired, panting, sabers right next to each other’s neck, waiting. After a few seconds, Obi-Wan shakes his head, lowers his blade and says that he won’t do it. He can’t. It pisses Anakin off, but nothing he says (yells furiously at him) can wipe out his sad smile and the tenderness in his eyes, and Anakin breaks.  

They end up fucking again. There are... way too many feelings involved here to be as casual as they pretended until now. “We shouldn’t,” Anakin says quietly, after, both of them still entangled in each other, unwilling to let go.“You shouldn’t. I’m a Sith.” “Now you tell me.” It makes him laugh for a second. 

Now, what’s the ending of this story? Does Anakin tell Obi-Wan that this is just this one time, and next time he will definitely kill him, whatever happens? Does Obi-Wan sees right through him and knows that he’s on the edge of a breakdown, that there must be a reason for Anakin to do all of this, pleading for him to “talk to me, dearest, why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you let me help, Anakin?” even when they’re both in the middle of a battle, and it justs breaks Anakin a bit more each time?

Or does Anakin explain everything to him right away, and Obi-Wan convinces him that they will find a solution, they will save his mother and stop Sidious, but for now, he has to pretend to remain a loyal Sith? To play it safe, give them time to figure out how to rescue Shmi and stop Sidious? 

 I’m 100% invested now, you should definitely consider writing this fic because it’s an amazing AU! (with or without the ideas I threw here, I was just really into it) 

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

[laurenmm62017]

Codywan Week Day 2~

The prompt I chose was AU.

I've been meaning to write an Aikido AU at some point in my writing career, and it's finally time!

Aikido (合気道) is a traditional Japanese martial primarily focused on protecting yourself as well as your opponent. It is defensive, non-competitive, and focuses a lot more on spirituality, depending on your dojo (school).

Something about the way both Aikido and Soresu are both defensive really sits right with me lol

I've done aikido for 13 years and recently received my 3rd degree black belt certification (sandan 参段), so this AU really means a lot to me and truly hope you enjoy it! If you have any questions, feel free to DM me or whatever~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32849761

@codywanweek

Summary: Obi-wan loved practicing aikido. Something about the way that he is able to subdue opponents much larger while also being able to protect that person from harm was very attractive to him. While training with visitors from New Zealand, he meets one of the most interesting and attractive people he has ever met.

Obi-wan took a deep breath in, extending his energy from his fingers reaching up down his arms, to his center, then exhaled and brought his hands down his body to his toes. He repeated this motion three times along with the rest of the class.

“Alright, class, line up!” The lead instructor, Mace Windu, called out.

The younger and less experienced students lined up in the back, while the higher ranked students, like 4th black belt Obi-wan, lined up at the front. Everyone settled into a kneeling position, and looked forward to the picture of O-Sensei, founder of their martial art, then bowed to Mace.

“I have a small announcement before we close class. Next class, we will be having a few aikido practitioners from New Zealand to practice with us. They are from a dojo that practices a different style, and may do certain techniques differently than we do, so please pay attention to what they do, and be careful when you train with them. Sometimes they have… a more aggressive approach. But, just remember that your style of aikido is different from theirs as well. This will help you both learn communication and cooperation. Any questions?”

No one raised their hand, so Mace dismissed class. Obi-wan led the closing bows and then allowed the children to exit the mat while those wearing hakama began to take them off, while others began to clean up the dojo around them. One of the younger students, Zatt, ran over to him and began asking him the usual round of questions.

“Who are the new students, do you think Obi-wan?”

“I have no idea, Zatt. We will find out on Friday, hm?”

“But that’s two days away! How long do you think they will be here?”

“Well, most people stay to practice for at least a few classes, so I would say we will see them at least a few more times.”

“Wizard! What do you think they’ll be like?”

“I haven’t the faintest, my dear. Hopefully there will be someone your age to practice with.”

Obi-wan smiled as Zatt jumped up and down in excitement, then ran off to get changed and go home.

“Obi-wan.” Mace called from his office near the back of the dojo. Obi-wan finished folding his hakama, then entered Mace’s office and closed the sliding door.

“Yes, Sensei?”

“The sensei of the group that is coming is a very close friend of my master, but I’ll be a bit busy while they are here, so if you are able to, I’d like for you to take them around the city the day after practice.”

“Of course, Mace. It’s the weekend, so I won’t have anything scheduled.”

“I appreciate it, Obi-wan. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Have a good night, Mace.”

~

The next lesson, Obi-wan arrived 20 minutes early to the dojo, hoping to get to know the visiting practitioners before actually practicing with them.

After he bowed at the entrance of the dojo, he straightened up and spotted two of the visitors. They were already dressed in their gi and hakama, warming up a little bit near the edge of the practice mat. They were both fairly tall, had short black hair, and sharp features. As soon as he entered the dojo, they paused and stood up straight.

“Hello there! You must be part of the visiting dojo!”

“Yeah, that’s right!” They seemed a little nervous?

“Pleasure to meet you! I’m Obi-wan Kenobi, part-time instructor here at the dojo.” He introduced himself and gave a short bow.

“I’m Wyatt Fett, and this is my twin, Baron. Our dad and older brothers are talking with Windu-Sensei right now. We’re, ah, just warming up before class. They take care of the “ambassadoring”, we’re just here to practice aikido.” Wyatt grinned and they both gave short bows to him.

“Understandable. I’ll speak with Mace in a bit. It was nice to meet you two. I’ll be right back.” Obi-wan bowed, and then walked over towards the changing rooms, listening to the two of them bicker. Something about being a type?

He placed his duffel bag on one of the higher shelves to leave room for the children. Just as he turned his phone to silent, the men’s bathroom door banged open, making him jump and almost drop his phone. He whipped around to see who made such a racket, but he only caught the sight of his back and a green belt around his waist.

“Hm… must be one of the visiting students. The teacher’s son?” He thought, before checking his phone one last time.

He finished up and exited the changing rooms to join Mace with the visiting teacher, a stern, older looking man, and two younger men. The older man was slightly taller than Obi-wan, still in street clothes. His face was stern, but he had smile lines around his eyes that softened his face, and dark hair with a few white hairs barely visible.

The younger looking of the boys… men? Had blonde hair, a little bit of baby fat stubbornly clinging to his cheeks, and was already dressed in his gi and hakama.

However, Obi-wan’s eyes were drawn to the older looking one. His hair was longer on top than the sides, pulled back in a small ponytail. His face was sharp, but somehow kind, and he had a wicked scar that curled around his left eye, and bright gold eyes that he shared with the other two men. But this man’s eyes seemed to bore right into his soul, making him a bit flustered.

“Ah, Obi-wan. Good to see you. I’d like you to meet Jango Fett, head instructor of the Aikido of New Zealand, Auckland branch, along with his assistant instructors, and his eldest sons.”

“I’m Cody, and this is my younger brother, Rex.” The slightly taller one, Cody, gave a short bow and a sheepish smile.

“We’ll be in your care during our trip. I hear you’ll be showing us around tomorrow?” Jango asked.

“Yes, that’s right. After class, could we all exchange numbers and arrange a time and place to meet?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Jango glanced at the clock and his eyes widened. “We should get ready for class.”

“Of course. Right this way.” Mace escorted Jango towards the changing rooms, leaving Obi-wan with Rex and Cody.

“So, have you gentlemen gotten used to the time difference yet?” Nice, Kenobi, thrilling conversation.

“We’ve only been here about a day so far? We don’t actually travel outside of New Zealand often, still getting used to waking up in the past.” Cody joked, making all three of them laugh.

“I can imagine. Well, I hope you will gain a bit of energy in the ten minutes we have before class starts.” Obi-wan smiled, and exited the office, onto a much more crowded mat than it was five minutes ago.

“Obi-wan! Obi-wan! I made a new friend!” Zatt shouted gleefully, dragging the young boy that he saw in the changing room behind him. “This is Boba! He’s from New Zealand!”

Obi-wan looked down at Boba who looked away from him and pouted.

“Hello, Boba. Welcome to our dojo. I hope you have fun with Zatt and the other students today.”

“Thanks.” Boba mumbled and then promptly pulled away to be introduced to others at their dojo.

Cody came up next to him with his hands on his hips. “I’m glad Boba is making friends.”

“Yes, the children have been very excited to meet you all.” Obi-wan chuckled.

“And you?”

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow, and turned to look at Cody, who simply smiled and waited for a reply.

“We’ll, I’m certainly looking forward to it.”

Mace opened their class with an introduction of their visitors and then moved onto warm up exercises. Obi-wan tried his best to pay attention, but he has done these exercises a thousand times and he was easily distracted today.

Like most men, Cody didn’t wear a shirt under his gi, so every so often, Obi-wan caught a glimpse of what was underneath.

On accident! Obviously.

Warmups ended and they all paired up for the rest of the class.

“If one person from our dojo and one person from New Zealand can practice together, please do that. If not, try to partner with someone close to your height.” Mace called out to the class.

Obi-wan glanced around and immediately spotted Cody glancing at. He smiled and walked over to him.

“Care to practice together? I’ll have to help out with demonstrating with Mace, but I’d love to practice with you.” Obi-wan smiled, and bowed his head, which Cody eagerly returned.

Practicing with Cody was exhilarating. They matched speeds perfectly, every attack and deflection was completely in sync. The rest of the dojo fell away and focused solely on the two of them and their space. The feeling of Cody’s hands and body on his wrists, his neck, holding him down, during pinning techniques was the best feeling he’s felt in a long time. Every time he executed a technique against Cody, he literally flew through the air and hit the mat with a thud that echoed through his entire body. And whenever it was Cody's turn, Obi-wan’s skin burned wherever he made contact; he felt like he could see an outline of his hands on himself, but maybe he was just tired. He never wanted this class to end.

Of course, right as he was thinking that, Mace clapped his hands twice and called out, “Line up!”

Cody and Obi-wan reluctantly bowed to each other, then separated. Obi-wan went to the front of the mat, and Cody went to line up with the rest of his dojo.

“I want to thank our visitors for practicing with us. They will hopefully be able to attend a couple more classes next week, but in the meantime, everyone please thank them for joining us.”

“ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU!!” All of the children screamed, and the adults of the class followed it with a more calm version.

Class ended and various students began shuffling off the mat to grab a variety of cleaning supplies to tidy up the dojo. Obi-wan grabbed a rag and began to clean the shomen, where O-Sensei’s picture hung. Their guests from New Zealand tried to grab things to help, but were told off by the children that they were guests and “It’s our responsibility!”

Obi-wan snickered and smiled at Cody, who shrugged helplessly and began taking off his hakama alongside his brothers and began to get ready to leave.

Once the dojo was clean, Obi-wan finally took off his own hakama and gathered his belongings.

Cody and Rex were waiting right outside the dojo for him.

“Excited for tomorrow, gentlemen?” Obi-wan asked.

“Yes, very much so.” Cody smiled, pulling out his phone.

The three of them exchanged numbers with Obi-wan promising to meet them in front of the dojo at 9am the next morning.

“Tomorrow will be a great day, I’m sure of it.” Rex butted in and patted Cody on the back.

“Excellent! I will see you all tomorrow, then.” Obi-wan smiled.

A good day, indeed.

[andrea-lyn]

The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there! 

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

//

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend. 

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

 Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

OR

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way 

Sundering by romancandles 

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies (jms.eds@jms.com)

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

 (TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends. 

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."