#obi wan sees him and trips over his own feet immediately

[captaingondolin]

baker Cody with his sleeves rolled up and his hands covered in flour

[spilledkauffie]

🤍 Nurse of the 501st — “Injured”

Pairing: Captain Rex x FemaleNurse!Reader Word Count: 3.1k T/W: fluffy ☁️ / slight mention of injury + blood A/N: I enjoy flirty Rex, what can I say?

Obi-Wan, Anakin, & Rex barely make it back to the ship— some jn worse shape than others. You tend to Rex and enjoy a bit of a different side to the Captain.

Preface / Injured / 79's / Orphanage / Suit Up / Taken (pt.1)

↳ m a i n m a s t e r l i s t

"We need to leave… NOW,” you heard General Skywalker yell through the comlink which you were patched through on all channels being medical.

The bridge responded immediately, informing him that departure was about to commence as soon as they were clear of surrounding ships blocking the jump point. Yularen personally informed the Jedi that their squads should brace for further impacts before the ship turned about, making its way to clear space, this received a groan of annoyance from General Skywalker who always figured he could move double time than just about everyone else around him.

“With all due respect-” you interjected, swiftly being cut off by an aggressive jolt to the ship, no doubt from a direct hit, sending you across the length of the room into a rolling med-station; finding yourself settled on the floor when you opened your eyes, raising the comlink to continue, “but is Captain Rex aboard yet?”

You were met with static and the distorted sound of a lightsaber in action coming through the com, only making you shift your eyes as if trying to see the events somehow, in anticipation for a voice to respond, hopefully, a human voice. Your heart beat so quickly, you were certain even if someone spoke you wouldn't be able to hear them over the repeating thud-thud pattern ringing in your ears amidst other sounds of war blazing around you.

“Yes,” Master Kenobi’s voice finally came through clearly. You let your body rest slouching against the hard metal still poking at your back, but knowing that Rex was on board eased you enough not to care about your own physical discomfort. Closing your eyes and exhaling a long-held breath as your head gently tapped back against the wall you had been tossed into moments ago.

“In fact,” Obi-Wan continued, bringing you to attention again, the tone in his voice wasn’t a positive one, “we’re heading your way now.”

With that short sentence, your heart took to racing again, that could only mean one thing: injury.

“I’ll meet you in the south corridor,” you responded, quickly picking yourself up off the ground, and heading for the exit.

The medic door swooshed open at your presence, opening up the sight of a flashing hallway. The emergency lights were in full force, spinning and whining the breach warning. The medical bay was always so calm in its setting, usually to try and keep patients at ease no matter the situation going on around them. The difference in atmosphere shocked you the first time you’d seen it. In fact, it still startled you, despite being with the 501st you weren’t used to being in the middle of war quite yet.

Bracing yourself against the doorway, as the ship groaned, tilting a little too quickly, you held on so tight your knuckles ached. Once the ship levelled again, you sprinted towards the south corridor, knowing that was the last ping location you’d received from the Jedi, but more importantly knowing that was where Rex was. You tried to keep your feet from tripping over random objects and even a few droids that had clearly missed the order to lockdown and strap in.

Coming to an opening, a four-way hallway joint, you saw General Skywalker and Obi-Wan, lightsabers drawn, sending blast fires off in different directions when they met the sabers. Chest rising and falling from how hard you’d run to the corridor, you looked around for the clone Captain. He was hard to find until General Skywalker turned.

“Rex,” you spoke his name to yourself in a relieved sigh upon seeing him alive and in better shape than your anxieties predicted. His frame was bent farther over than usual, you quickly identified a wound to the side of his abdomen as the cause of his need for assistance from Skywalker; but in true Rex form, he had one arm strapped around Anakin’s shoulders for support, meanwhile, his free hand was still sending off shots from his blaster. Anakin was the first to notice you, sensing your strong worry through the Force. He tilted his head to Rex at his side just in case you hadn’t seen him.

Nodding, you looked like a sprinter at the starting line, weight entirely resting on your tip-toes, your body bent halfway over and bouncing methodically, ready for immediate action at the sign to go. A hand on the wall, or what was left of it, you turned away with every rouge shot from the enemy- and one blast that was deflected by Master Kenobi.

Instantly realising that there was a life form where he sent the laser off his lightsaber, he chimed in, “what the blast is she doing in the middle of this action? We said we’d come to you!” Now being much more cautious about where he sent ricocheting shots.

Anakin knew there was no time to explain the reason for your immediate response, and if he did Obi-Wan would simple say feeling should be set aside, especially in the face of battle. But Anakin understood you…a little too well in fact. He’d seen the friendship between you and Rex grow and eventually shift into something more. He wondered if either of you realized it wasn’t just a liking anymore, it was love, he sensed it so clearly. He thought about warning Rex how much it can change someone, but he retrained, knowing that Rex could handle it, after all, the Jedi restrictions didn’t apply to his men or you, and most of all who was he to tell you not to give in to feelings.

“Here! I’ll cover you,” Anakin called, focusing only on you and Rex; timing it perfectly just like you were while waiting in the hallway for a clear cover to Rex’s side.

More than willingly you took the leap of faith when Anakin said it was clear, that you’d learned a lot during your short time at the 501st, one of which was: always trust the General. You ducked under Master Skywalker’s arm, momentarily squishing yourself between the two met as you set yourself in place of Anakin. Thanks to your height difference it caused Rex to bend over significantly more compared to before, but that didn’t bother him and you tried your best to stand as tall as you could. Holding onto Rex’s wrist draped over your shoulder with one hand, you wrapped the other around his waist, avoiding any touch to the wound he’d received, you looped your fingers through his utility belt. You felt him lean into you willingly, but you could tell he was still doing his best to stand on his own so you wouldn’t have to feel the weight on your shoulders.

“You made it,” you tried to smile, looking up at the clone helmet you knew by heart, but your eyebrows were still knit with worry.

“You doubted me?” Rex asked looking over to you; desperately trying to cover up the strain in his tone.

Smiling to yourself, you gently pushed your forehead against the helmet’s, closing your eyes, “never.”

“Alright lovebirds,” Anakin came to your back, shielding you, speaking over his shoulder, “let’s move out before Master Kenobi gets a clue.”

Even though they knew the Jedi rules didn’t apply to soldiers, he knew the topic was a tender one with Obi-Wan, so it was always in his best interest, and yours, to make the friendship appear strictly professional. You were beyond grateful for Anakin’s support and only wished he could have the freedom with Padmé as you and Rex had.

Walking along the unstable corridors, Obi-Wan headed to the bridge while Anakin made it his personal job to escort his Captain to the medical bay along with you. The ship was clearly being turned around, but there was another unexpected impact that shook the entire ship off balance causing you to nearly fall into the wall. Thankfully, Rex’s arm wrapped around you as a reflex, gathering you to his chest so you didn’t hit the hard metal; he stabilised the both of you with his other hand bracing against the wall. Despite him being the injured one, he was always catching you.

“What the kriff is Admiral Yularen doing up there?” You practically growled out of frustration, looking down at Rex’s torso which was suddenly closer than expected, but you still managed to keep focused on the medical situation. When you pulled your hand away it was covered in blood, things were getting worse, as you feared.

“He just likes to make things a challenge for us, isn’t that right, Rex?” Anakin said smirk dabbling on his lips.

“Ah, yes, sir,” Rex was giving his all to not groan as he spoke, but you could hear the strain and sense the pain he’d never say thanks to the force, you were certain Anakin had felt it too, being further trained in the Jedi, then again when it came to injury, you could sense it in a heartbeat.

“We need to get to the medical bay, now, General,” you spoke beyond medical reasoning and were now pleading with him through emotion.

Nodding, Anakin deactivated his lightsaber, keeping it in hand as he walked to the other side of Rex. Taking him by the arm, Anakin helped to get the both of you straight on your feet again. The medical bay was thankfully still intact when you arrived. Anakin asked if you needed any help, but he never got a full answer as you were preoccupied with getting Rex onto the table. It was only when Obi-Wan com linked Anakin that you turned back and gave a nod indicating ‘we’re good here, you can go’ to which he gave a respectful nod back, he knew you’d take good care of his captain.

Rex gripped his side, nearly doubling over once the medical bay doors closed and he was alone with you. Taking his helmet off, you set it down on a nearby table. There was a bruise forming on his temple and his bottom lip had been busted pretty bad since blood was already drying over it. Touching the top of his hand with yours, he understood the silent gesture, you were telling him to let you take a look. Gripping the edge of the medical bed, he took a sharp inhale, holding his breath while you got a closer examination of the wound.

“We need to get you out of the armour,” you said, a professional commanding tone to your voice that he didn’t dare argue with, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but I need o stitch you up before you can move much more.”

Before Rex could have a second to even begin taking it off, you were on it. Since you’d specially been trained to heal and work procedures on clones before you were dispatched, you had a good deal of practice on how to manoeuvre the armour. It was considered extremely beneficial as it would minimize the time it took to tend the wound in action. Kix had helped you learn a lot of shortcuts to de-armour a soldier and it was certainly coming in handy now.

After you’d made a very neat pile of the armour from Rex’s waist up, you were in a near sweat. The armour was heavier than the training pieces and it amazed you how Rex and the 501st moved so easily in it. The utility belt was the last thing to go, without hesitation you reached your arms around his waist, bringing yourself chest to chest with him, while your fingers tried to find the clasp.

“You know,” Rex started, smirk on his face, “in a different situation-”

You could hear the flirtatious tone in his voice, and it made you feel hot, but you tried to convince yourself that was thanks to all the armour you’d had to move. Not daring to meet his gaze, which you felt was focused directly on you, your fingers finally found the clasp and you separated from him. Walking over to a mobile medical tray and grabbing what you needed, you bit your lower lip.

“I’ll leave you to shoulder off the top of your blacks,” you smiled to yourself, before looking over your shoulder, “since we’re not in a different situation.”

Rex had to give a small chuckle, getting to work on shouldering out of his black underlayer, letting it fall around his waist, as he hoisted himself onto the medical table, exposing his entire torso. The table was cold and while you weren’t looking he permitted himself a shiver, not quite feeling up to acting as tough as usual. Seeing you turn around and walk over with the medical tray, Rex raised his eyes, wary of what was on it. You shook your head, amazed at what scared him. He did as you requested and laid back like a good patient, but his eyes still lingered on you.

“This might sting a bit, but I promise it’ll help the pain,” you said with an apologetic tone, filling your palm with a cold gelatinous substance.

“I think I can handle-” Rex started, but once you began applying it, he sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes, fingertips curling slightly at the shock of pain sent throughout his body for a moment; when he opened his eyes, you were giving him an ‘I told you so,’ look, “alright, you weren’t kidding.”

Smiling to yourself, you figured that was as close as he was going to get to admitting that it hurt. Waiting a few moments to let it numb the section you’d applied it to, you began your stitchwork. Rex was glad all he could feel now was a bit of pressure while you worked along with all the other aches he’d acquired.

When you accidentally tugged tighter than usual, you saw Rex’s whole torso tense. Each muscle being outlined with the tension, “sorry, sorry,” you placed an open hand to his abdomen, comfortingly, closing your eyes at the stupid mistake, trying to keep calm yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled, sliding his hand to touch yours, “at least I know I’m in the best hands in the galaxy.”

You opened your eyes, first taking in the sight of your hands clasped together, then you finally met his eyes.

“I don’t know,” you started softly, “I think Kix might be-”

“Trust me,” Rex interrupted, lifting his head for emphasis, “I’d rather be right here.”

The comment made you laugh, ‘poor Kix’ you thought, it seemed you were becoming the favourite and fast on the medical staff. Rex rested back and you returned to your stitching, despite how hard it was to let go of his hand.

“Well, you know, there are other ways to get my attention,” you bit at the inside of your lower lip subtly, in a bit of shock that you just said that to him.

Breaking into a half-smile himself, he had to playfully scoff, “didn’t know I needed that to impress you,” he caught your expression, a slight blush, “but believe it or not,” he spoke through a stifled groan, “I didn’t get this to impress you.”

“Well, that’s a first,” you perked an eyebrow, feeling more at ease to tease now that you knew he wasn’t in any critical, “believe it or not, but that’s a popular reason among your troops.”

‘Oh great,’ Rex thought to himself for two reasons: first, that his men were purposefully getting little nicks and cuts so they had an excuse to visit you and second because that could mean others had a romantical interest in you.

“I’ll have to do something about that then,” Rex tried to sound as disinterested in their intentions as possible, “I think a good strong conversation should do the trick.”

“Not going to lead by example on that one?” you repressed a giggle.

Rex gave a smile giving into your meaning. You had just set down your kit, letting him know you’d finished when your comlink chirped.

“Skywalker to Med– how’s my captain doing?”

You looked over your shoulder at Rex who was just sitting up, “he’s just fine, might be out for a day or two if you can spare him.”

“Lucky for him we’re headed back to Coruscant for a debriefing,” you could hear General Skywalker’s signature grin, “thanks for the update, Skywalker out.”

You were busy cleaning everything up when Rex came over to your side, “you’re not supposed to be up yet,” you said in a tone that tried to be commanding.

“So, I’m not free to go then?” Rex asked, “I don’t think it’s a good look for a Captain to be out for too long.”

‘As if a no is going to stop him,’ you thought to yourself, “just let me put a patch on it and then keep your blacks on over that so nothing is exposed to it,” you settled on.

Rex patiently waited while you retrieved the patch from a cabinet. Carefully placing it over the fresh stitches, you stood again, watching him zip up his blacks.

“I’d stay away from wearing your armour for a while, the pressure might do you more harm than healing right now,” you added, sounding a little closer to Kix.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Rex chuckled to himself, looking over at the bloodstained armour, “I’m a little shocked at how fast you got it off me.”

When his smirk met you a blush rushed to your face faster than a lightsaber could ignite, “I- it-” you stuttered, “it was part of the training, when- when I found out I would be working with clones. So you know it’s just practice that makes perfect.” “Right, right,” Rex nodded to himself, smile still playing at his lips as he pushed himself up from the counter he’d been leaning against and headed for the medical doors which opened upon sensing his presence, “well, if you ever need some more practice-” Rex slowly winked, turning to leave. Suddenly you felt like you could use some medical attention– the spare oxygen sounded nice.

[brother-genitivi]

screaming thinking abt the clones going to a grocery store

warnings: mention of alcohol

Hardcase starts by grabbing a shopping cart, then runs for momentum and lifts his feet off the ground, barrelling his way down aisles and almost crashing into Rex. His captain is not pleased.

Kix immediately makes his way to the ice cream section. He takes many tubs into his arms, thinks about the cost, and opts for eight tubs of ice cream instead of ten. "We'll ration them."

Jesse accidentally takes someone else's trolley, thinking it was Rex's. He doesn't realise until the person politely asks for it back. Jesse thinks about digging himself into a hole and never coming back out again, and to make matters worse, Tup saw everything.

Whenever they need to put an item back, Dogma's the one to find which aisle and which exact section it came from. Otherwise, he loiters around the snacks section. He can't wait to get his hands on every sugary treat they have there.

Tup has a basket of his own. He fills it with items ranging from fluffy slippers, to a caf machine, to face creams, to 'wonky' fruits because they're cheaper. The slippers are for Fives because he ALWAYS complains about his feet being cold. He got the face creams because his skincare routine is practically non-existent, and Kix nags him every time he picks at his acne. The fruits and caf machine are for the barracks. He forgets to buy caf pods for the caf machine.

Fives swapped his armour with Echo. He spends most of the trip impersonating his brother and doing things to embarrass him. This includes lying on the floor facedown. Somehow Fives manages to knock over a pile of boxes in his attempt to prank Echo, and ends up embarrassing himself. He's steady on the battlefield, but outside it is a very different story.

On the other side of the store, Echo has long forgotten to impersonate Fives. He has more important things to do, like get the caf pods that Tup forgot, and milk, and sugar, and deodorant, and cheese- and before he knows it, the trolley Hardcase commandeered is full.

Rex is trying to have a good time. Key word: trying. He's already lost the shopping list Echo made (that's what he gets for not using a datapad). Hardcase nearly trampled him with a shopping cart earlier, and attempts on his life, accidental or not, tend to sour his mood. To make matters worse, Fives - and he knows it's Fives - is pretending to be his batchmate and inconveniencing customers in the process. Jesse nearly stole someone's cart. Kix has gone missing. Dogma's worked himself into a panic trying to return items they don't need, and Tup's trying to convince him to let him buy the caf machine. Rex pinches the bridge of his nose and contacts Cody.

Cody shows up with a datapad and trolley, Waxer and Boil in tow. He's in ori'vod mode. He has a shopping list, credits and a budget.

Waxer is busy piling items into Cody’s trolley. He ends up bumping into Echo. They look over their items and realise now they have two of everything. At least Echo remembered the shopping list, Waxer thinks.

Boil’s headed right for the alcohol. He has no ID on him save for the code on his wrist, but that’s not going to stop him from trying. Surely he passes for older than 18, right? Right?

Plo Koon hears from Obi-Wan that members of the 212th are at a grocery store. He thinks the Wolfpack could use a shopping trip, supplying each of them with 100 credits each. No one asks where he got the credits from.

Wolffe takes a basket and makes it clear that nothing is going in it unless it’s cleared with him and Plo Koon. He also has a budget. To his utter dismay, C3PO is also in the grocery store to get supplies for Padmé. Wolffe pretends not to see the droid, but C3PO spots him before he can escape. He rolls his eyes, yet makes no verbal complaints. It’s only a matter of time before C3PO has to leave. He can do this.

Boost takes a leaf out of Hardcase’s book and takes a trolley for the sole purpose of using it to zoom around the speeder parking area. Sinker films the whole thing, then climbs into the trolley. Boost pushes him around, and they forget about actually buying anything.

Rex manages to pay for their items without incident. His headache is slowly going away, and they managed to find Kix outside with a bag full of ice cream tubs. Cody gives him a look that’s half ‘you really called me out here for this?’ and half ‘well done for getting it done’.

Wolffe finally escapes C3PO’s clutches and gets his items paid for, including a mug that has ‘Galaxy’s No.1 Dad’ on it. Come to think of it, he can’t recall seeing Plo Koon drink from a mug, but it’s the thought that counts.

Boil emerges from the store with alcohol in hand. Waxer loses his mind over it.

Plo Koon loves his mug.

Obi-Wan makes a mental note to join his men the next time they go shopping. It might, dare he say, be fun.

Anakin and Ahsoka definitely plan on joining them. Rex has another headache just thinking about it. Still, the boys enjoyed themselves. Maybe he can survive another shopping trip.

[2stepadmiral]

Anakin Skywalker breathes with difficulty. It’s been almost twenty-five years since he really breathed freely, but now, it’s even more difficult. The suit is compromised, he knows. The life support system is failing. Given time, he could fix it, but something tells him that fleeing the Death Star immediately needs to be his immediate concern. He won’t survive the trip, something tells him. Is that the light again? It’s been so long since he felt it, he can’t really say. It’s been so long since anything pierced the cloud of darkness surrounding him, the cloud of rage and hatred that he had called ‘Vader’ and claimed as his identity for most of his life.

He feels a pair of hands pull him away from the rail he was leaning against and lay him on the ground. The hands are shaking with fatigue and pain, but their grip is gentle. He reaches out through the Force, and feels a presence reach back and seem to embrace him. He had felt this presence before, several times, but this time, the touch is not marred by his twisted desires. He can feel a hint of his old self, and a hint of Padme, in this wholly unique presence, this warm, kind, and hopeful being that he can now see clearly with his lust for power and desire to dominate and possess gone.

Luke. His son.

“We need to leave.” Luke says after a moment, his voice pained and ragged sounding. “Let me help you, father.”

Father. Beneath the blasted mask, a reluctant smile tugged at the edge of his lip. He hardly deserved to be called that, but he still felt delighted at the word.

He did not respond as he was hauled to his feet, his mechanical breathing coming his gasps of wheezing, electronic air. He would not live long, he knew. His son would live, must live…

He glanced to his left, past where Luke was now pulling his arm around his shoulder, and saw it. The lightsaber.

“Luke,” Anakin said, hearing once again the cursed electronic voice of Vader. He had often noted to himself how he hated the sound of his filtered voice, but it had never sounded so loathsome to him as it did now, now that he had regained his sense of self. Now that he had to truly consider his many sins.

“Luke,” he said again. “Your lightsaber. Do not… leave… your lightsaber. You will need it.”

Luke glances over at the fallen weapon, and Anakin notes the fatigue on the young man’s face as he struggles to stay on his feet and support the additional weight of Anakin’s cyborg suit.

He has your strength, Padme, your fortitude. Anakin thinks. Oh, Padme, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

“It’s okay,” Luke says, looking back to his father. “I can build another one.”

Anakin looks at the saber again. The instant he’d first been handed the weapon, he’d recognized the design. Vader had been seized by jealous rage momentarily when he saw that his own son had patterned the weapon he’d built for himself after Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. He’d wondered in fury why had he not designed his weapon to emulate his old weapon, the lightsaber that Anakin had built and Luke had used for several years? Was it not fitting and proper for Luke to use the basic design that had served both father and son?

But that had been Vader’s lingering rage at his old master, a rage now gone and replaced with deep regret and sorrow. Anakin looked at the lightsaber, the weapon Luke had modeled after Obi-Wan’s.

And suddenly, he saw his old master, as he had been on Mustafar so long ago. He were covered in soot and ash, and his dirty robes stood out in the sterile white of a medical center. He held a wailing infant in his arms, and as he tore his gaze painfully away from the figure on the bed and looked down at the child, a rush of pained affection for the child flowed freely.

He saw Obi-Wan holding the infant closely against his chest as he rode a dewback across the Tatooine sands, his robes pulled around to shield the child from the heat of the twin suns. He saw the child growing older as the Jedi Master devoted his life to protecting the youngster, even if it was to be only from a distance. He even saw a visibly aged Obi-Wan facing off with Maul, weapon drawn as he immediately decided that the former Sith Lord could not be allowed to threaten Luke, and could not be allowed to leave Tatooine alive. He saw Obi Wan frightening away Tusken Raiders and fighting off thugs to keep Luke from harm.

He saw Obi-Wan as Luke had seen him, in a light that reminded him of Qui Gon. The old Jedi Luke had affectionately known as Ben had been a wise and compassionate mentor to Luke. Their time together had been brief, and the knowledge he had passed onto Luke had been limited, but it had made all the difference. Luke had seen Obi-Wan as a mentor, a friend, and a father, and just as Maul had robbed him of Qui Gon, he, consumed by Vader’s rage, had robbed his son of Obi-Wan.

The design of his weapon was more than just a continuation of the old Jedi tradition, where an apprentice modeled their weapon after their master’s as a sign of respect. It was a symbol of the impact Obi Wan had made on Luke’s life as a Jedi and, perhaps more importantly, as a person. And Anakin had been responsible for tearing that connection apart.

With an effort that nearly brought him down to his knees, Anakin reached out and summoned the weapon. It landed in his remaining hand, slung over Luke’s shoulder.

“Yes, you could build a new one,” Anakin said. “But you don’t need to.” If Luke simply built another lightsaber, he may feel obligated to use Anakin’s old weapon as a template this time. He vaguely knew he would have been immensely pleased at that notion once, but his ego was no more. Luke was what mattered now, and Luke needed his connection to Ben Kenobi and his teachings more than he needed some obligation to a father who had been so lost in his own rage and hatred that he had needed his son’s love to end his reign of terror.

“You must always keep this with you, Luke. You must understand,” Anakin paused as he spoke. A final, stray memory of Obi-Wan came to mind as he spoke, one of countless lectures he had been forced to endure, but would now give anything to be able to hear again, and for the first time in twenty-three years, Anakin Skywalker truly smiled.

“This weapon is your life.”

[tennessoui]

would you be willing to go more indepth on the TA au first kiss scene?

i'd be willing to apparently really really really fucking in-depth with the TA au first kiss scene it turns out.

(3.1k, no porn but a lil raunchy there at the end)

This is not the first time Obi-Wan has been over to Anakin’s house. At the start of the semester, back in August, Professor Skywalker had invited all of his TAs to dinner, to introduce himself to them outside of the classroom.

This is different, though. Obi-Wan’s alone as he dismounts from his bicycle and stands it up against the garage door. No one else will join them tonight. Anakin had only asked him over.

If Obi-Wan thinks about that too much, he’s not going to be able to ring the doorbell.

He’s already late as it is, having changed multiple times since Anakin had texted him. What does one wear to the house of one’s professor who one desperately wants to fuck?

Lingerie, obviously. Check.

But on top of that?

He’d gone with a navy blue sweater over a simple t-shirt and jeans. Even still, when Anakin opens the door, he feels immediately overdressed. Anakin’s only wearing a black tank top and dark gray sweatpants that cinch at the ankle.

Alright. It’s official. Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s going to survive the night.

“Obi, great!” Professor Skywalker exclaims, ushering him in and out of the cold November air. “I was worried you’d slipped on ice riding over here. It really is starting to get dangerous to bike in this sort of weather.” His tone becomes disapproving, something that absolutely doesn’t make Obi-Wan’s cock twitch in his pants. “I’ve seen your tires, they’re not up to the way it gets icy up here.”

Obi-Wan could say that he knows the weather better than Professor Skywalker, seeing as how he’s been a student at the same school for going on five years now, and Professor Skywalker still has partially-unpacked moving boxes sitting around his living room.

But what he says instead is, “Yes, Professor,” which makes Anakin freeze for a second before he hurries into motion again.

It’s interesting, is all.

“I told you to call me Anakin, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says sharply, turning away. Alright, yes. Obi-Wan’s body does react to that tone.

“Sorry, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs with a half-smile when he sees the way Anakin’s back stiffens for a second.

“You must think I have the patience of a saint,” Anakin mutters to himself. Louder, he says, “Shoes off and do you want some tea?”

Obi-Wan bends down to start untying his shoes, perking up at the mention of tea. “You have tea? I’ve never seen you drink tea on campus.”

“I have rooibos and earl grey,” Anakin shouts from the kitchen. Obi-Wan stands, shoeless, to follow him curiously, looking around the house as he goes. The entrance hallway opens up into the living room, which is sunken into the floor. There’s a dining room table a few feet from the couch, positioned next to a window looking into the kitchen.

There are still moving boxes scattered around, even though it’s already mid-November.

“Earl grey, thank you,” Obi-Wan says absently, still taking in Anakin’s home. Gently he lays his messenger bag on the table next to Anakin’s laptop and retrieves the papers he’s been invited over here to grade. When the kettle goes off, he peers through the window to watch Anakin assemble his cup. “Oh, that’s my favorite brand,” he says happily. Anakin flushes and busies himself putting away the apparently incriminating boxes of tea.

“What a coincidence,” Anakin replies, handing the cup to him through the window. Obi-Wan wraps his cold hands around the mug and allows the warmth to travel through his body. He’d forgotten his gloves, an idiotic move that can only be blamed on his nerves for the night.

But now that he’s here, he suddenly doesn’t feel quite so nervous anymore. It feels natural to sit with Anakin like this at his dining room table and grade their students’ work.

It feels right and scarily easy.

They get to work with little more chatter, as these papers are supposed to be handed back the next section class.

After one high score and two middling ones, Obi-Wan sets down his pen. “You still haven’t unpacked everything?” He says this observation like a question.

Anakin looks up at him from the paper in front of him and adjusts his glasses as he processes the words. “No, not really,” he agrees. “I never usually do, not until I find something that makes me want to stay in one place for a while.”

Obi-Wan’s hands tighten around his mug of tea. His voice comes out more strangled than he’d like. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

“It’s a temporary position, Obi,” Anakin says slowly, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the essay. “I’m renting this place from the school, but even then the lease is up in February.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what his heart is doing, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been in so much pain. Not to be dramatic or anything, but the thought of Anakin leaving as quickly as he’s blown into Obi-Wan’s life feels as if it can kill him.

“Oh,” is all he says. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Minutes later, Obi-Wan is staring at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sink. He’s still reeling from the very real possibility that Anakin will leave in a few short months. That he’ll go to some other college in some other city and make everyone fall in love with him there as well, and Obi-Wan will never find out what it feels like to kiss him because he’d been too scared of breaking the rules or being rejected to try.

Resolve forms in his mind. If Anakin is looking for a reason to stay, Obi-Wan will give him one.

But Obi-Wan’s never really set about seducing a professor before, is the problem. He doesn’t know what Anakin likes in his partners, and he doesn’t know if he even really likes Obi-Wan at all. There are hints sometimes, certainly, the way he’ll stare at him in class, the casual way he’ll touch his lower back when they’re walking somewhere, all of his behavior that night at the bar near Halloween.

But there’s a difference between feeling arousal and acting on it. And there’s an even bigger difference between wanting someone once in your bed for the night and wanting someone enough to stick around town for a few years while they finish school.

So it’s not even seducing Anakin that is real problem here. It’s keeping him interested afterwards. And Obi-Wan needs to start now, before the semester ends. If he waits until January, he won’t have enough time before Anakin’s lease is up. Hell, he doesn’t even have enough time now, not really. He’d probably need four months alone just to get Anakin to look at him with more than dark, considering eyes.

Alright. Alright.

He’ll start with coffee tomorrow morning. He’ll go out there and finish grading papers with Anakin, and then tomorrow before class begins, he’ll bring Anakin a cup of coffee. It’s a start.

Anakin’s made a fair amount of progress by the time Obi-Wan exits the bathroom-cum-war council room. “Alright?” The professor looks up with a small furrow between his eyebrows.

He’s so gorgeous Obi-Wan almost gives up right then and there, but he’s never been a quitter.

“Alright,” he agrees, picking up his mug and carrying it to the kitchen. He’ll just add some more water and a little bit more milk and get started on the rest of the papers. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he can go home and start planning. The thought makes him excited and nervous all at once.

He glances up through the kitchen window just in time to see Anakin lean back in his chair and stretch his arms so far up that his tank top rides up enough that his tummy--or, well, defined abdominal muscles as it were--flashes into view.

Which, of course, makes Obi-Wan’s life flash before his eyes. He trips and then promptly curses when he rights himself but half the tea spills out over his sweater.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s there immediately, as if he’s teleported from the table to the kitchen instead of gone around the normal way. “Are you alright? Are you burned?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Obi-Wan mutters, blushing furiously. His seduction of Anakin is never going to work if he keeps behaving like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man. “Just got on my sweater, it’s fine.”

Anakin’s hands grab at the hem of Obi-Wan’s sweater, and when he doesn’t protest, slowly drags it up and over his head, careful to keep the wet stain from his hair.

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat at the look of intense concentration Anakin’s wearing, how dark his eyes are. It’s almost exactly what he wants, but it’s not enough because Anakin backs away quickly, sweater clutched in his hands. “I’ll get you one of mine,” he says gruffly, turning to leave the kitchen, but Obi-Wan stops him with a hand on his arm.

“It’s really fine, Anakin, I’m not cold.”

“You’re covered in goosebumps,” Anakin points out, laying his hand on Obi-Wan’s own arm.

Obi-Wan swallows and bites at his lip. “I’m not cold,” he promises. A part of him wants Anakin to hear what he’s not saying. A part of him is afraid he will.

But Anakin only nods jerkily once before exiting the kitchen and returning to his seat at the table. “You’ll tell me as soon as you feel so much as a slight chill,” he insists, picking up his glasses and resettling them on his face.

“Yes, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he sits down, just to watch Anakin’s jaw clench tightly for a second before relaxing.

They resume grading in silence, but this silence is tense. A different beast than the previous one.

Halfway through his sixth paper of the night, he furrows his eyebrows at a student’s paragraph. “Professor,” he says, standing and moving to lean over Anakin’s shoulder to show him the error. He places one of his hands delicately on Anakin’s skin, because he is a weak, weak man. “They’ve gotten this bit extremely wrong, but the paragraph after this one is basically the same thing but with the correct information. What, do you think it’s just an editing error?”

Anakin looks at the paper without saying anything.

Obi-Wan adjusts his position so he’s more leaning over next to him instead of behind him and points out the relevant sections. “Would you dock points, do you think?”

Anakin’s jaw bunches as his nostrils flare for several long seconds, before he seems to snap out of whatever had taken his mind away. “Take a few off, but for formatting not for content,” the professor decides.

Nodding in agreement, Obi-Wan stays where he is and makes a note in the margins. He looks up at Anakin when he feels his eyes rest heavily on him. “What?” he asks. “Do I have pen on my face?”

“Just haven’t seen you this dressed down before,” Anakin’s voice is incredibly low and the timbre of it makes a shiver run down Obi-Wan’s spine. “You’re always so buttoned-up in class.”

Obi-Wan wets his lips. Somehow the words that come out of his mouth are not ones he’s approved of saying. “That’s not true,” he says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. “I wouldn’t say I was buttoned-up at the bar.”

Anakin inhales sharply and he leans towards him with dark, dark eyes. “You were all dressed up then, weren’t you?” he murmurs. Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from swaying in Anakin’s direction, even if he wanted to.

Slowly, he nods, paper forgotten under his professor’s burning gaze.

“Do you still have it?” Anakin asks hoarsely. “I’ve been wondering what you did with that little dress for weeks now.”

“Didn’t keep it,” Obi-Wan replies honestly. His mouth dries incredibly fast when Anakin’s hand falls to his arm.

“You’ve got goosebumps again,” Anakin observes, rubbing a thumb over his skin. “Are you cold?”

“Not cold,” he whispers, moving closer than he’s ever dared. He’s terrified that if he speaks louder than he is now, the moment will be ruined. They’ll snap out of this, whatever this is, go back to grading papers, and then Obi-Wan will leave and tomorrow morning he’ll buy Anakin coffee and try to make himself come across as the perfect life partner for his professor.

But he wants this so much. He thinks they’re standing on the edge of something that could very well be amazing.

Anakin’s opening his mouth to say something, but Obi-Wan cuts him off. He wouldn’t be able to hear it over his pounding heart anyway. “I kept the lingerie though,” he says. “Do you want to see them, Professor?”

For a second, those words and all they imply hang in the scant few inches between them.

Then, “Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” Anakin groans, sounding torn to shreds. He pushes his chair back so fast that Obi-Wan stumbles.

Anakin’s hands are there to catch him and pull him into his arms, mouth descending onto his.

Obi-Wan moans into the kiss immediately, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s neck and tugging their bodies as close together as he can get them, making helpless little noises he’s never made before in his life. Anakin’s not quiet either, not as his hands roam down from Obi-Wan’s waist to trace the outline of his ass before he grabs it and rocks them together. The pleasure skyrockets when their bulges grind against each other, and Obi-Wan has to break the kiss just to gasp for air.

Feeling brave and desired and hot, Obi-Wan grabs one of Anakin’s hands and slips it down the waistline of his pants, just far enough that he can feel the spread of lace over his skin.

“Baby,” Anakin groans again, rubbing his thumb over the cheap silk of the Halloween costume’s panties. “Baby, fuck.”

Obi-Wan pushes back into the hand, trying to convey how much Anakin really can fuck him, should he want. Obi-Wan wants.

Before he can say anything though, Anakin’s lips claim his again and his tongue fucks aggressively into his mouth. It feels so good, especially when Anakin scratches up the skin of his back gently with one hand. The touch has Obi-Wan turning pliant and weak in the knees, something Anakin must realize because he edges Obi-Wan closer and closer to the table before sweeping the contents off with one hand and lifting him up with the other.

He spreads his legs automatically and for a second everything is perfect when Anakin comes to stand between them, mouth biting searing kisses into his neck while Obi-Wan tries to keep rubbing their pelvises together. He throws his head back and to the side with a high moan, mouth falling open as he stares uncomprehendingly at the ceiling.

Does this mean he doesn’t have to buy Anakin coffee before class tomorrow?

The thought of school is like a bucket of ice water poured directly over his head. Almost frantically, he pushes at Anakin’s chest, trying to get space between them.

Anakin detaches himself from Obi-Wan’s skin with the utmost reluctance. His lips are red and wet.

But Obi-Wan needs to be responsible, and he’s currently sitting on his professor’s table, papers scattered on the floor around them. “Fuck, half of these weren’t stabled together,” he cries, hopping down and starting to pick up the students’ papers. “Shit, Professor--”

“You were just sucking on my tongue like a professional slut, Obi-Wan, I think you can call me Anakin,” Anakin bites out, working his jaw furiously as he watches him crawl around on all fours from above. The nerve of the man for causing the mess and not helping at all to clean it up!

Obi-Wan feels just petty enough that he pauses at one of the papers and arches his back, pushing his ass out and looking over his shoulder. “I thought you liked it when I called you professor, Professor,” he responds in what he hopes comes out sounding mostly sultry.

It seems to work if Anakin’s reaction is anything to go by. “Fucking hell, Obi-Wan,” the man snarls, but his sweatpants make the twitch of his cock impossible to miss.

“What a pair we make,” Obi-Wan says, just for the fun of torturing Anakin. “You’re not wearing any underwear and I’m wearing lingerie.”

He finishes with the papers and stands to stack them on the table.

“I think you should go,” Anakin grits out, watching Obi-Wan intently.

Obi-Wan’s heart stops for a second and he’s suddenly terrified he pushed too far, too fast, that Anakin hadn’t enjoyed the kiss, that he remembered he was too annoying to keep around, that--

“If you don’t go now, you’ll be spending the night in my bed, and I think we need to talk first,” his professor finishes gently, reaching out to rub his thumb over Obi-Wan’s lip.

Obi-Wan licks it immediately, and when no protest is made, brings it further into his mouth.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sounds extremely pained.

Slowly, he drops his thumb from between his lips. There’s hardly a foot of space between them. It’s too far. It’s too close.

Anakin’s right. They do need to talk. And it shouldn’t happen tonight.

“Can I borrow a sweatshirt for the bike ride back?” he asks quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Only it’s cold outside and--”

And you smell really nice, he finishes in his head. Out loud, he says, “And I think I’d look good wearing something of yours, don’t you think, Professor?”

Anakin’s eyes narrow and his hands clench tightly into fists at his side. “I didn’t have you pegged as a brat.”

“You haven’t had me pegged at all yet,” Obi-Wan points out with a grin. As if magnetized, Anakin’s thumb comes up and digs into one of his dimples.

“I’ve wanted to lick these since the first time I saw you smile,” his professor whispers like they’re in a confessional.

It’s incredibly easy to reach out and trace one of the lines of Anakin’s octopus tattoo down his arm in return. “I’ve wanted to do the same with your tattoos for months now,” he admits. “Will you let me? After we talk? Will you let me put my mouth on you?”

His fingers dance across the front of Anakin’s sweats, before veering back up to more friendly territory.

Anakin’s eyes are dark with promise when he nods in response. “I’ll do more than let you, baby,” he growls. “I’ll put your mouth on me myself.”

Obi-Wan shivers.

No, he probably doesn’t need to buy Anakin coffee tomorrow before class.

But he probably will anyway. Just because the way Anakin’s looking at him makes him think the other man isn’t going to get much sleep tonight either, and it’s the least he can do.

[darthkruge]

Could you write a cute sequel to the Padawan! Anakin and Padawan! Reader oneshot, where they have a secret wedding two years later?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 2)

Summary: Two years after their first kiss, Padawan!Anakin and Padawan!Reader return to the gardens of Naboo for their wedding

Warnings: Nothing. Once again, this is fluff. A bit more emotions thrown in this time, but cute fluff nonetheless!

Words: 1.6k

A/N: I can’t believe someone requested a sequel for one of my fics!! That’s so exciting!! The first part is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written and I hope I did justice with the second <3. Also! You don’t need to have read the first part to understand this. But I do think it makes it more fun, as I kinda tied them together :)

Part 1

gif credit

“Can you believe we made it?” 

Anakin’s voice broke you out of your trance. You were sitting on the grass and leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder with his arms hugging you from behind. The palace’s gardens once again surrounded you; the familiar fresh, flowery scent intoxicating. 

You hummed, turning your head up and looking at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Hi,” His voice held his laughter, teasing.

“Hi,” You replied, mirroring his happiness. 

You connected your lips with his, both of you grinning into the kiss. His metal hand came up, fingers gently holding your jaw as he deepened the kiss. Your mind wandered, remembering your first kiss. Here. 

You were pulled back to the present as his tongue gently swiped across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him access. As he swirled his tongue around yours, your head spun. Your hands wove into his hair and pulled on the back of it lightly, making him groan into you. You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around so that you were straddling his thighs. You broke from his lips, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck. 

Missing the feeling of your lips, he pulled you back up, reconnecting them with his own. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you couldn’t anymore, breaking apart only once you were positively breathless. You leaned your forehead against his, chests heaving as you relaxed.

“We’re gonna be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that” 

You lightly smacked his chest, throwing your head back and gaping in mock-offense. “Now who’s the one that shoved their tongue down my throat?”

“Well I guess that’d have to be me… considering you haven’t kissed anyone else…” He trailed off, looking at you somewhat sheepishly to gauge your reaction

“Anakin! That is rude! And unkind! And completely accurate, you kriffing asshole!” You said, laughing the entire time. Anakin joined in, sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t mad at him. 

“Rude and unkind? I’d say that’s slightly dramatic, Y/N”

“And where do you think I picked up the dramatic flair, hmm?” You shot back, quirking your eyebrows and glaring at him playfully.

Anakin rolled his eyes but, intelligently, didn’t argue. He just chuckled, pulling you back in for another kiss. You obliged but quickly pulled away, laughing as he pouted at you.

“Now, come on! We’re going to be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that!” You said, mocking him.

You got up and started skipping away before he could retort, smiling as you heard his footsteps scrambling to catch up with you. He pulled your hand into his, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss against your cheek. 

He pulled you forward and you laughed as he stopped to spin you around. Your breath caught as you felt yourself tripping over your own feet and squealed as you came in contact with Anakin’s strong chest.

You buried your face into him and he rubbed up and down your arms. As he peppered kisses into your hair, you did the same on his collarbone. Moments like this were what you wished you could live in forever. Just two people in love. Without the pressure of the Jedi, the Council, any of it. You wished you didn’t need to hide your relationship, your happiness. But you truly believed that any sacrifice would be worth keeping Anakin in your life. 

It had taken months of planning to even get the time to slip away with Anakin. Luckily, the Council thought you and Anakin worked well together and frequently allowed you to go on missions together. Granted, you both usually ended up in front of the Council trying to justify why you disobeyed their orders on these missions. Even if it was your idea, Anakin would always try to take the blame, despite you constantly telling him it was unnecessary. However, Anakin did have a point when he said that he was the Chosen One; they wouldn’t expel him from the order because of a series of poor decisions. He said that even if you didn’t have the Council’s protection, you could count on his.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. That’s why those fights never lasted. Most of your fights were like that. Silly, stupid arguments that almost always boiled down to the fear of losing each other. And, by the next morning, you were always curled back in bed together, unable to bear the idea of being apart. 

“Y/N?” 

You looked up, shaking yourself out of your own head.

“Yeah?”

Anakin looked at you quizzically. “You alright, my love?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded. “Perfect.”

You were about to marry the most perfect man in the entire world. Kind, beautiful, giving, protective, understanding, flawed, yours. As if “perfect” even began to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t sure anything could. When you joined the Jedi Order, you never thought you’d get this. Love. And yet, here you were. 

Anakin leaned in, kissing your nose. “Me, too,” He whispered in your ear.

You walked up to the secluded altar where Obi-Wan, R2D2, and C3-PO stood. You thanked the stars for Obi-Wan; he had done so much to ensure that your secret stayed that way and you could successfully marry the love of your life. 

You stood, looking at Anakin. He held your hands and you gave his a squeeze. It was a signal that had developed over the years; whenever one of you needed reassurance or just wanted to remind them that you loved them, you’d squeeze the other’s hand. As per usual, he immediately returned the gesture. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Y/N, would you like to go first?”

You looked at him, mouthing a quick “thank you” and nodding. He smiled right back. Obi-Wan had become a good friend of yours over the years. You were quite grateful that he was here on this wondrous day. 

You took a deep breath, looking into Anakin’s deep eyes. “Anakin, when I first met you I thought you were reckless, arrogant at times, insubordinate…” You trailed off as he gave you an amused look, clearly wondering where you were going with this. 

“Gorgeous,” You added in, “and, truly, so much more. Now, while I still think of you that way, I’ve grown to love it. You inspire me, you believe in me, you understand me in a way that I thought was impossible for one person to understand another. You’re strong and loving and you always keep me safe. You make me laugh and smile and giddy and… happy. I still remember, two years ago, when you made me choke an apple and kissed me, all in one day. And that feeling I had when our lips first touched, it has remained, constant, since that moment. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t want to put that off for another second.”

Anakin’s eyes were misty with tears by the time you finished speaking. It was hard for him to fathom -- that he’d found someone who cared about him that much. For once in his life, he believed that there was someone who wouldn’t leave. 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a knowing smile before asking him to begin.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re perfect, you’re… everything. You challenge me, by the Maker, you challenge me,” Anakin said as you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “And you’re strong and good and selfless. You’ve always seen the good in me, sometimes even when  I didn’t deserve it. You sought to know me for who I am, not for what I could bring to the galaxy.” Anakin paused, looking into your eyes. He swallowed, long and hard, before going on. 

“And I know this wasn’t the relationship you dreamed of. I know I can’t give you much of anything. But I promise that for the rest of our lives I will be right here, by your side. I will love you for as long as this life allows, and for a thousand after that.” 

Tears streaked down both your cheeks, making everything else fade away. The weight of his words sat heavily on your heart; his love for you so powerful it was nearly overwhelming. But that seemed to be a theme in your relationship, didn’t it? Everything right on that edge, so close to falling apart. And yet you and Anakin balanced each other. You wouldn���t crumble. 

You once again traveled back to when all this started. You remember thinking, perhaps foolishly, that you and Anakin would make it. That one in a million couple. You thanked the entire galaxy that you were right.

You looked at Obi-Wan only to see that he was grinning at the both of you. He’d had his suspicions about you two for months before he eventually caught you kissing after you returned from a long mission. Anakin swore up and down that he “fell on you” and was “tending to your injuries” but Obi-Wan just brushed away the excuses and assured the both of you he would keep your secret. 

“You may now… kiss each other. If you so desire,” Obi-Wan said before averting his eyes.

Anakin looked at you, adoration clear in his vision. He held your gaze and gently cupped your cheek. “So… can I kiss you?”

You rolled your eyes, laughed, and leaned in. 

-----

if you would like to join my taglist, the link is in my pinned! please message me if you would like to be taken off! if your name is crossed off, i for some reason could not tag you

permanent tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poestardust @beskar-tano @starwarsflowers @sunsetkenobi @90steaology

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @savingpluto @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker @mystic-writings @thejediuniverse @anakinravageme @cafeoiogy @dracowars @idkyouu1800c3  @luminara123 @jedi-general @collywobbl

[wickedscribbles]

Come What May, Chapter Two

A/N: Enjoy! You can find up to Chapter 9 on my Ao3 if you get antsy for more; my username is just WickedScribbles. :) 

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective) 

Rating: Explicit

Tags: female masturbation, male masturbation, first kisses, admission of feelings, Obi-Wan ain’t give a fuck he’s getting some, that’s not how the Force works, discussion of the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan is a switch and you can’t change my mind, come marking

Word Count: 4.9 K

After the awkward ship ride home to Coruscant, Master Obi-Wan seems to make it his mission to stay as far away from you as possible. In the Temple, this isn't hard to do; most floors and rooms were meant to hold dozens, if not hundreds of people, and Obi-Wan knows its halls better than most.

It’s admirable, how he’s managed to vanish in a place that adores him so much. Have you seen Master Obi-Wan? is always followed by, Oh, you just missed him or No, I haven’t seen him. The most you’ve been able to see in weeks is the edge of his cloak slipping around a corner. A startled look over his shoulder as he flees the gardens, realizing that you’re meditating there, too. If you’re both attending a council meeting, you swear he ignores you so vehemently that you start to doubt your own existence.

And his life Force? Forget about it. He's shoved it down so tightly that he might as well not exist to you. You find yourself pining for it. If he's determined to never interact with you again, you had hoped to at least feel his Force touch yours, even in a friendly way. It's almost as if he yanked a part of your own essence away when he withdrew that night in Odryn. Something feels missing from you. In the mess hall, you start asking for cinnamon tea. It tastes flavorless.

In some ironic twist, now you're the one tormented by dreams. But each one leaves you right on the edge, with no one to reach out to. Alone in your quiet room, gasping for air as the details of the dream drain away the more awake you become. Obi-Wan. Smirking down at your naked body. Hands. Tongues. Breath. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. Each time it happens, you bring yourself to climax, face muffled deep into your pillow, biting down a cry of his name.

Hesitant, you touch the thick cloud of life Force all around you. You have to swallow the bile rising in your throat. It's like slogging through floodwaters with Jedi on all sides; far too overwhelming. You have to pull out almost immediately, the sensation akin to being drowned under the weight of information.

You can feel the signatures of every Force-sensitive in the Temple, from the smallest youngling all the way to Master Yoda. They all have a presence. Lying on your back, you stare up at the ceiling with a fading sense of nausea. If you ever want to speak with Obi-Wan again, you’re going to have to get better at this.

Two more weeks pass before you can re-enter this headspace. Inhale, exhale. Don't try too hard to keep a rhythm. Body relaxed. Mind at ease. Then...you dive in.

Lit candles and a holonovel. Leaning on an old cane. The smell of blaster fire. Giggling and playing tag with your creche mates. Lying in a medbay bed, watching sunlight streak the window. Feeling fear wrench in your gut at the thought that this war might never end. Watching your Padawan twirl her sabers, her lekku flying behind her. Sitting cross-legged in the library tower, thinking about things you shouldn't.

The last one is him -- it has to be. There’s no other Force here that feels like this; the same mix of emotions run through it that you felt before. But now, they feel muted, pushed down under a working consciousness. You’re not sure you would’ve been able to sense it at all, had you not already made the connection.

Though you're still reeling from a dozen other sensations, you get to your feet. The library’s halfway across the Temple -- you trip and nearly fall flat in your haste to get there in time. Your urgency earns you more than a few strange looks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t even have a plan for what to say when you get there; all you know is that you need to see him again.

You slow to a walk when you reach the library’s entrance, trying to blend in with those coming and going. It’s the middle of the afternoon, the perfect time of day to be here if you wanted to go unnoticed. Younglings have just been released from their lessons, roaming the aisles. They chatter at a poorly managed volume, despite their minder’s warning. Older Masters roam to and fro as well. Some are glued to holodisplays, others watch the younglings play with fond smiles.

But where are you, Master Kenobi?

Dodging a group of Padawans, you scan the perimeter. Nodding hellos and exchanging brief greetings, your heart begins to drop the longer you investigate. It wasn’t him. All that work, for you to be wrong. Whatever connection had occurred on that mission is unwanted on his end -- so much that he's actively pretending that you aren't alive. Jedi are supposed to be good at letting go of attachments -- are forbidden from forming them -- so why does this sting? You turn to the library’s exit, fist clenched tight. Then, you hear it.

“Thanks, Master Kenobi!”

“Of course, Padawan. Any time.”

A short Rhodesian girl darts past you, beaming as she holds her unlit lightsaber with newfound determination.

Only years of discipline and training keep you from bolting past her like a Jawa to a shipwreck. Taking a deep breath, you round the corner. There he is. Finally. Sitting cross-legged, just as you’d seen him through the Force, warmed by the sun coming in through one of the high windows. He doesn’t look up when you spot him -- his brow is furrowed (like it was when he -- no, not here) like what he’s reading is too important to take his eyes off of.

Is it your imagination, or has he gotten prettier since you’ve had the chance to get a good look at him? His hair’s longer -- it’s starting to curl near his ears. The beard’s a little bushier, but still well kept. Obi-Wan brings a hand to his mouth, stroking it lightly. Maker. You swear the ghost sensation of the hair is still tickling your lips, though it’s never really been there.

Well, you didn’t track him down to stare.

You walk over to his small table in the corner, and he only looks up when your hand is on the back of the unoccupied chair. Must be one fascinating holotext. If your heart wasn’t pounding, you might have laughed at the expression that crossed Obi-Wan’s face before he composed himself. His eyebrows threatened to disappear right into his hairline. How many people could say that they’d caught Master Kenobi off guard in such a manner?

“Master,” you greet, bowing in a show of respect. “May I have a word with you?” You have to pull your hand off of the chair so that he can’t see it trembling.

For a moment he looks at you, apparently lost for words. You wish you knew what he was thinking -- or even better, could feel his life Force mingled with yours. You practically grieve it with him right in front of you, but unable to feel a thing. It’s torture, waiting for him to either accept or dismiss you with no hint about which he’ll do. At last, with the smallest of sighs, he closes the holotext and straightens.

“I suppose I can spare a moment,” says Obi-Wan, getting to his feet. “Come with me.”

Feeling like a youngling again, you follow him out of the library and into a hall that you’ve hardly ever been down. Together, you pass no one but a few busy cleaning droids. Neither one of you says a word as he pauses in front of a door, keying in a code. Looking around to make sure that no one’s watching, Obi-Wan waves you in before he follows. The door locks behind him.

It’s an abandoned training room. Still clean due to the presence of droids, it’s nonetheless clear that no living thing has set foot in here for some time. Wooden sparring sticks lie in a pile next to the door, and an outdated holoprojector sits in the far corner. The small size surprises you -- a room this large would likely only hold around half a dozen students. You imagine that’s why it’s no longer used.

“Please, sit.” Master Obi-Wan gestures to a floor mat, and you drop onto it obediently. He mirrors your assumed posture, back straight and ankles crossed. As if this was an out-of-the-way meditation session, not a tense confrontation that you’d been trying to have for weeks.

“You’re a hard man to find, Master,” you say, hoping to break the tension.

He ducks his head, the slightest hint of color creeping over his cheeks. “Yes. Well. War does keep one busy.” You watch his fingers drum on top of his knee, a habit never seen before. Is he anxious?

You nod. “Of course. And yet I notice that I haven’t been assigned any more missions.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“Our... mission on Odryn seemed to meet the Council’s standards.” Your tone is light, cautious. It’s true that you’ve been stuck in the Temple since then, with many other Knights coming and going. Hard not to believe that Obi-Wan hasn’t had a hand in where you get assigned. Or if.

Obi-Wan takes in a sharp breath, turning away. Was that going too far? He’s silent a moment before speaking, his tone lower than you’re used to hearing it. “Young one, I...that is to say...accompanying you that day was a mistake.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, a look familiar to you from watching him chase Anakin Skywalker around.

You’re genuinely curious when you ask what he means.

“What I mean is--” the blush on his face is darkening, and you lower your eyes, biting off a smile. Cute, your mind tells you again.

“I knew that there was -- that I -- felt something toward you. That offering myself as a volunteer to go with you on the Odryn mission was a poor choice. That my thoughts would -- that I might --” He breaks off, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Yet I went anyway. I am so sorry for what followed.” Obi-Wan looks ashamed, not meeting your eyes when you go searching for his.

Ashamed? Sorry? Poor choice? That’s...the complete opposite of how you feel.

Felt something toward you! Your brain screams in retaliation, alight with joy that you hadn’t hallucinated the whole ordeal.

“Do you...remember anything?” you ask timidly. “The dream?”

“I remember enough,” he replies, not seeming to want to discuss it further. “Enough to be consumed with guilt for what you had to witness. I assure you -- I swear -- that every moment since has been dedicated to severing the bond I mistakenly forged. To improving myself as a Jedi.”

For several seconds, you have no clue what he could mean. Then it hits -- he thinks that everything that happened was all his doing. That you were a bystander, a -- a victim.

“Obi-Wan,” you stammer. You’ve never called him that before, and it feels far too intimate once it leaves your mouth. He looks up, blue eyes full of chagrin. “Did you really think that was all you?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Can I...could I just show you?” You swallow. Oh please I’ve missed you, please.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then frowns, seeming to think better of it. After a moment of hesitation he simply closes his eyes and inclines his head, an invitation. So relieved you could cry, you close your eyes in turn and drop your shoulders, relaxing. Yes, oh stars, yes. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan.

When you reach, the door to his life Force is open -- barely ajar, but open all the same. This time you’re the eager one, the neglected one, and your Force greets him like a long lost friend. He wraps around you, hesitant but willing to take you, to listen. You feel tears slip down your face before pushing harder.

Sunshine, tea, cinnamon, cedarwood, shame shame shame. His purest parts clouded with it, making your chest ache so deep you can’t catch a proper breath. This isn’t right. This isn’t the whole picture. You long to make him understand. To let him know that you want him every bit as much as he wanted you that day, and so you flex forward and show.

You hear him gasp from the sheer volume of it. All your desire, watching him sleep and dream of you. Feeling the ebb and flow of his thoughts and thinking you’d never touched a more beautiful life Force. Watching his fantasy about you and feeding back one of your own. When you play back your affection toward him -- before Odryn and after -- he makes the smallest sound under his breath. And when you show him how you came just from feeling his orgasm, right there on the jungle floor, he withdraws from your mind so painfully it feels like a blow to the head.

“Stop,” he chokes out, eyes wild. “I -- I get the picture.” His hands clench tight to the material of his robes, arms crossed over his midsection.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly, wiping your face. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you -- but you need to know. It’s not just you.”

Both hands bridge in front of Obi-Wan’s mouth as he stares straight ahead. “I'm not sure if this is better or worse.”

“Why?” You lean forward, unable to keep the desperate note out of your voice. “Master -- Obi-Wan -- I don’t see the issue. This appears to be… highly mutual.” You let your eyes dart down to his waist, which he’s still keeping hidden from you. He catches your look and bites his lip, and never in your life have you wanted to break a rule more. Because you know exactly what he’s going to say before he even has a chance to explain.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are,” he sighs, shifting under your gaze. “You know why. The Code -- attachments are exactly the sort of thing we can’t have.” But you can hear how his breathing’s gone shallow and shaky. His own eyes are lingering on your mouth, like he’s imagining if you taste like you do in his dreams.

“I think that’s an outdated rule.” You cross your arms, not missing the way his gaze now bounces down to your lifted breasts. “You’re attached to Anakin. And his Padawan, Ahsoka.”

“That’s…” Obi-Wan sighs.

“If either were about to die on the battlefield, would you not run to save them? Or leave it to fate?” You quirk an eyebrow, knowing his answer.

“I suppose you’ve got me there. But that’s not -- not the same attachment. It’s familial, not -- this.” He glances up at you shyly. “I can say with full confidence that Anakin has never tempted me in the ways that you have.”

“You’re one of the only people in the Temple he hasn’t, then,” you laugh, trying not to bask in the thought that he’s just said you tempt him. Obi-Wan grins back. A bit of that sunbeam feeling returns, though his Force is nowhere near yours at the moment.

“Anakin has a...fast and loose relationship with the Jedi Code. Even more so now that I am no longer his Master,” he chuckles. “Still. I have to assert that this is a different matter.”

“Hmm.” You frown, feigning contemplation though your mind is already set. “What if we... promise not to get attached? To fall in love? Would that feel safe enough for you?” A long shot.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, giving you a sad sort of smile. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible, dear. I’ve seen your thoughts. You’ve seen mine.” The seeds have already sprouted, he doesn’t say.

Unable to help it, you scoot closer until your knees touch his. “That’s too bad. I -- I really wanted to kiss you, Master.”

And there -- you’ve struck a nerve. Simply addressing him as Master in such a sweet, plaintive tone is enough. Obi-Wan practically flinches, lips pressed tight together. His eyes are bright and longing, looking right into yours now. His lashes are longer than mine. You know without looking into his mind that he remembers that particular part of his dream. Finding you in his room, bare but for your long, brown cloak.

For a moment, you stare at one another. Then he takes a deep breath. “Well. In for a chit, in for a credit,” he murmurs, and presses his mouth against yours.

Oh, it’s soft. So gentle. The barest touch of lips, yet it makes you shiver. You place a hand on his cheek with a happy hum, so glad you were able to convince him. Obi-Wan answers with a satisfied sound of his own, inching further into the kiss. When he presses harder, his moustache threatens to go up your nose. You pull away instinctively, fighting not to giggle.

“Not good?” Obi-Wan’s mouth is still inches from your own, his innocent question full of concern.

“No, it’s fine. But you’re a little,” you grin, “fuzzy.”

“Oh.” His hand drops to his mouth as if he’d never considered it before. “You’re right, I suppose. It is getting to be a bit much. Should I shave it?”

“No!”

“Trim it, then.”

“Later,” you breathe, coming for his lips at a less direct angle.

“Mm! Mmm…”

The urgency of his tone betrays him as he claims your mouth again, more confident this time. Obi-Wan’s legs fall open loosely, and you crawl forward to sit between them, not quite in his lap. His arms come around you, fingers tight on your shoulder blades. You let your mouth fall open against his closed lips as you pant, heart hammering. Gods, he’s strong. The knowledge that he could easily be rough with you -- and yet his mind shows that all he wants is to be gentle -- only makes you want him more.

Obi-Wan’s lips open against yours in turn, and you whimper at his breath mingling with your own, hot and inquisitive. You curl a hand in his hair, wondering if he’ll have the reaction you imagined in your Force projection. He doesn’t disappoint -- with a needy little gasp, he pulls you forward, effectively placing you onto the very erection he’s been trying so hard to hide. His cock flexes up into your core. Oh kriff yes there, your body sings, applying the lightest pressure back.

This time Obi-Wan is the one to pull away, dropping his forehead to your cheek. You slide back to the floor, leaning back on your palms.

“Would now be a bad time to say that I have no idea what I’m doing?” he admits with a breathless laugh. His Force is trickling back open like he can’t seem to help it, and oh, do you like what you feel.

You laugh too, just as flustered. “Doesn’t seem like it, Master.”

“I’m flattered, but really. I’m rather clueless. I assume from the way you’ve spoken about attachments that you are...not.” You sense curiosity from him, though he says nothing more about it. In return, you offer your thoughts. It’s easier -- and far less embarrassing -- to show. Your eyes seek Obi-Wan’s, asking permission to join his life Force again. He inhales shakily, and you don’t miss how tightly his hands are clenched in his lap.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you re-enter, gentler this time. Truthfully, the experiences you have to offer aren’t that impressive. Fervent touches with a few fellow Knights who also had little to no experience, but passion in spades. Your hands on your own body, long after night had fallen at the Temple. Obi-Wan observes these parts of you, not critical or judgemental. Instead, you’re met only with his growing attraction to you, his consistent relief that what occurred on Odryn was not his fault (but you started it, you tease.).

And you? You prod. His Force shrinks a little, nervous, before opening to you further on the topic.

He hadn’t lied. In conscious practice, there’s nothing. You sift through years and years of thought in fast-forward and he’s never even laid a hand on himself, though the urge to simmers far closer to the surface than he prefers. This...definitely explains the lack of certain details in his dream. Aside from intimacy displayed by couples he’s seen out and about on-planet, he doesn’t have much to go on. This isn’t a topic they teach you as a youngling. Because why would a Jedi need to know? You remember your own firsts, everything coated with disquietude.

“Told you,” he mutters, breaking your concentration. When you open your eyes, he’s giving you a classic Kenobi smirk. Uncertainty lingers behind the kind crinkle of his eyes, anxiety that he can’t quite banish. Neither of you address it. “Are you still so eager to break the rules?” Do I still appeal to you?

In answer, you graze your mouth over his once more. When you tug at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip with your teeth, the pile of sparring sticks in the corner collapses and scatters.

“This is a training room,” you say between kisses, adrenaline flooding your veins at the noises he’s making. Quiet gasps ascend into groans the more daring you get with your tongue, his fingers trembling on your shoulder. “So we should make the best of it. Get some more experience under our belts.”

“I like -- your phrasing,” Obi-Wan manages. "But I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to stop talking," one of his hands snakes to your ass and you squeak in surprise, "and come here."

Gladly, you have time to think at him, before he grabs your hips and lifts you right back into his lap. Nothing shy about it this time -- he's put you directly on his clothed cock.

Now you're the one caught off guard, and he can sense it all over you. How badly you want it. How long you've imagined. You must smell like need. Locking eyes with you, Obi-Wan rolls his hips into your cunt, slow and purposeful. When you whine, something seems to click in his expression -- like he's filing the information away.

I see.

See wh-- !

But you're not allowed to finish the thought. In one motion, Obi-Wan is rising up and over you, crowding you onto the floor under him. You lie there, the training mat stiff underneath you, as he continues to survey you. His hips press yours firmly into the floor, a delicious pressure as you lie flat and he sits astride you.

“There are several options running through your mind, little one,” he says at last, and you blush. No one’s called you that since you were a youngling, tripping over the hem of your robes and envying the Padawans with their lightsabers. To hear him refer to you as little, when you’re pinned under his arousal, does something to you. “Show me the one you want the most.”

Licking your lips at the way his curious look has morphed to one of hunger, you offer the image that has gotten you to climax for the past few nights. You had been desperate to be claimed by the one person who hadn’t seemed to want you.

How things have changed, you muse, watching his eyes go wide as he watches the scene play out in his own mind. Obi-Wan’s full lips part on a silent moan as it vanishes, blinking back to reality slowly.

“Yes. Yes, I think we can manage that.” His voice is so soft, a contrast to the hard press of his cock and hips. “Pull your tunic up for me.”

You scramble to obey, exposing the flat planes of your stomach, then the curve of your breasts. The sturdy material of the tunic is gathered up near your neck, leaving your torso bare for him. Obi-Wan reaches down to swipe the pad of his thumb over one nipple, making you squirm under his hold. He purrs at the desperate sensation it incites in your core, feeling it almost as you do through the Force.

Staying silent as he’d asked you to, you nonetheless beg him to hurry, both with your eyes and through the Force. You know he wants this just as badly -- can feel the stiffness of his cock and the arousal pooling in his gut as surely as if it was your own body -- yet he takes his time here.

So when he finally palms his dick through his trousers, forcing it flat against your stomach, you mewl for him. Your hands reach up to dig into his thighs, urging him on.

Exhaling through his nose, Obi-Wan continues to palm himself through the material, sucking in a gasp when he finally lets himself wrap a hand around it and squeeze.

“Out of everything you imagined,” he murmurs, undoing the ties on his pants deftly, “this is really what you want most?” His erection peeks out at you now, straining his underwear. With a bob of Obi-Wan’s hand, that too is pulled out of the way. Fucking -- Maker --

“Yes,” you whimper, mouth watering for it.

It feels like you’ve waited years to have Obi-Wan’s heavy, naked cock lying full on your stomach. He’s thicker than anyone you’ve been with, and flushed red with want. The tip is already dripping, warm on your cool skin. He grabs it firmly in his right hand, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as he gives it a slow pull. Powerless to stop yourself from wanting a closer look, you prop yourself up on your elbows. Your heart jumps to your throat as the extra attention makes him flush.

Those lovely eyes, framed by copper lashes, dart away from yours as he tugs harder, biting a knuckle to keep from crying out. Kriff, you wish he wouldn’t. You want his overstimulated sounds almost as much as you want his come smearing your chest.

One hand works his shaft at an increasing pace as the other tenses in the material of his tunic. "Always -- so much," he confesses in a gasp. "Such a m-mess to wake up to." And indeed, pre-come is dribbling down his cock and hand in rivulets now, pooling below your belly button.

"I've never," he shudders, shoulders tensing, "never done this -- on purpose --" Obi-Wan looks down at you, not really seeing, brows knitted with desperation. The normally composed Jedi is falling apart, and it’s driving you insane. "I can f-feel it about to happen." In his fist, his cock is making obscenely wet sounds as he covers it with his own juices.

"How -- how close?" you ask, unable to take your eyes off of the way he's working his hips in tight little thrusts now. Fucking into his hand like no matter how fast he strokes, it won’t be enough. You feel like your hips will be bruised by how hard he’s pinning you into the training mat, but you can’t bring yourself to give a damn.

“Close --” he whines, ducking his head, face screwed up as he pants. Obi-Wan’s hand and wrist are a blur as he pleasures himself, balls drawing up in anticipation. His hair is a mess, so untidy from its normal neat part, and you wish you could run your hands through it. “Oh, gods -- oh, gods --” His Force is blazing with the chase, teetering on the edge of an orgasm he’s never been able to fully experience. Going to come all over you, stars, feels so good --

“Please, Master, please,” you beg, shoving his hips further up your torso. You’re soaking in your underwear, waiting for him to mark you.

You see it in his eyes three seconds before it happens. They go completely round with wonder, a hand slamming over his mouth as the first spurts of hot come streak your stomach.

Little one, stars -- I’m coming, I’m coming -- oh f-fuck fuck --

Though Obi-Wan hardly lets more than a whimper escape past his own hand, you hear everything loud and clear in your mind. It’s every bit as intense as you remember from that day on Odryn, and you clench as his aftershocks roll through your empty cunt. Rope after rope of come covers your chest, from the bottom of your stomach to the hollow of your throat. The scent of it coats your nostrils, thick and musky and Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter closed, hand falling from its grip over his mouth. “That -- that was…”

“Messy,” you joke, offering a smile. Incredible, you add as a hint of embarrassment creeps into your bond. When you reiterate how good it felt to watch him losing himself in the pleasure of it, he relaxes again. With a sigh, he eases off of your hips and tucks his wilting cock back into his trousers, settling down on his side next to you.

“You do look rather pretty like that,” he admits quietly, cheeks still flushed from exertion.

“Just wait until we actually take our clothes off, Master.”

“Pfft.” Obi-Wan leans in and kisses you, as gentle as the first time. “I have to tell you something,” he adds, voice lowered to a conspiratorial volume though you’re alone.

“What is it?”

“You taste like that dreadful tea they serve in the mess.”

[giggles-and-freckles]

4. With Obi-wan and Padme

4. "Just hold my hand." // hm, this one got a bit more angsty than I intended. oopsie daisies! tw: blood mention (from these prompts)

“Oh.”

Obi-Wan sighs and pulls his cloak tight around him. “Hello, Senator.”

“I thought I was going alone,” she says flatly. Sure, he’s seen this icy side of her, on Naboo, in the Senate – but never experienced it so directly.

“The Chancellor recommended an escort.”

“And you were the choice?” Padmé asks, then snorts derisively. “How convenient.”

He dips his head. “We should get going.”

The trip is short. Obi-Wan flies and Padmé stares out the viewport. No word is shared between them, not even an exchange of coordinates. Obi-Wan doesn’t bother to ask for a relay or any assistance at all, as he might have done if it was Anakin or anyone else in the passenger seat. Instead, he goes at it alone.

When they arrive on world, something shifts within Padmé. He senses it before he sees it. But her steps become heavy and her shoulders grow tight. Suddenly, he notices how little make-up she is wearing and how defined the rings beneath her eyes are.

So she hasn’t been sleeping either.

He feels a twisted sort of relief at this shared pain.

“It should be a quick exchange,” he says, as they approach the city centre. “They’re expecting us. We give them the money, they —”

“Give us a human being,” she spits. “Yes, I know how a slave auction works, but thank you, Master Jedi.”

“Padmé,” he says quietly and braves a brief touch on her shoulder. It stops her, even though she doesn’t turn around to meet his gaze. Instead, he walks up ahead and turns so she has no choice. “You must understand that...what we’re walking into…”

The hard lines of her scowl crumple a bit into something softer and sadder. “I know,” she whispers, and Obi-Wan watches the tension leaves her shoulders altogether. It is immediately replaced by a heavy, palpable sort of grief. The kind that drags and pulls and takes years off of what should still be considered youth.

Obi-Wan would know.

“We know he’s alive. We have confirmation of that. The Council...they — we know he’s alive. But, Senator...beyond that. His state may…” Obi-Wan swallows. “It may be unnerving. We must hold to our mandate.”

Her face twists bitterly. “And not let our emotions get the best of us,” she fills in. “Yes, have heard you favour that lesson.”

He begins to say something in response, but her eyes dart down apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was...I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Are you ready?”

She takes a breath and he watches as poise rolls through her. Just like that, in a single moment, she has mastered the lesson. For more than a decade, Obi-Wan has walked Anakin through this practice, to no avail. But here, now, the senator has achieved it with a snap.

Obi-Wan lifts an impressed eyebrow. “You would have made quite the jedi, Senator.”

“You would have made quite the politician,” she counters.

“Well, there’s no need for things as insulting as that,” he replies, then leads the way into the city centre.

It doesn’t take long to find the auction. And maybe it’s the Force, maybe it’s the rolling waves of anger and agony, colliding into each other over and over, that makes Obi-Wan immediately find Anakin amidst the crowd of paraded men, women, and children.

Padmé stumbles beside him.

And immediately Obi-Wan realises his folly. He was foolish to allow her coolness to dictate his silence on the journey here. A debrief should have been in order. Certainly, Padmé has seen more suffering than any young woman should, but — Obi-Wan feels decades older than her. It was his duty to prepare her for this. And he failed.

Anakin senses their presence, too. He lifts his gaze from the shackles at his feet and meets Obi-Wan’s eyes. Obi-Wan pulses comfort through their bond. You’re going to be okay, he tells him. But Anakin’s eyes widen the slightest bit and Obi-Wan knows he’s seen Padmé.

“Obi-Wan,” she murmurs, shakily. “Look at —”

“Shh,” he says under his breath, his eyes flickering around the crowd that has gathered. If this is to go off without a hitch, they must stay discreet.

“His...my gods, the blood. It...it…”

“I know,” he says in a hushed voice, his own stomach churning in on itself. Anakin’s body is charred by burns and slices. His flesh appears minced and raw, blood both caked and freshly dripping from several wounds.

Padmé wavers beside him. “Obi-Wan —”

“Just hold my hand.”

[ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing]

For the two-part drabble game, how about 6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy, and 28 - “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” :)

Hi Friend!

Thank you for the ask!

It turns out drabble isn't in my vocabulary so this went sideways faster than one footed duck (who are surprisingly bad at balancing for birds) and ended up over 2.5k. So enjoy the ficlet? The oneshot? I don't know what acceptable lengths are.

Also this is super duper NSFW so you've all been warned.

They’d won. They’d actually won.

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through Anakin as he made his way to his quarters for the first time in months.

The treaty had been signed and the last of the deployed troops were being recalled. Sure, there was still a lot of mediation to do, the clones right’s bill to get passed through the senate, and probably what would amount to a lifetime of therapy to begin but this was it.

The war was over.

Anakin spent the last three hours trying to outdrink Rex, which had been a mistake because the man had drunk the equivalent of paint thinner for the last five years and Anakin was a lightweight, and the next two sobering up as much as he could when he realized that the war was over.

Tonight, was the night. Or morning. Time had definitely gotten away from Anakin.

He rushed towards the quarters that he shared with Obi-Wan faster, so excited that he’d almost tripped over himself at least four times. He arrived there, putting the code in wrong a few times until his fingers decided to cooperate and the door opened with a hiss. He hurried to Obi-Wan’s room, letting the doors open and stepping in and-.

He wasn’t there.

Anakin blinked and then started to look around as if his master could somehow be hiding in the closet or underneath his desk but the man was nowhere to be found. He sat down on Obi-Wan’s bed, drunk mind still kind of fuzzy as he tried to figure out where his wayward master could have gone at three in the morning. Today was the day. Wasn’t it? Had Obi-Wan changed his mind? With a stab of pain in his gut, he realized his master had probably decided to do some celebrating of his own. A different kind of celebrating than Anakin had been doing. After all, it’d been nearly four months since they’d been temple side and Obi-Wan was only human.

Anakin swallowed around the lump in his throat and laid back on the bed, letting the smell of beard oil and spiced tea fill his lungs as the lingering ghost of Obi-Wan’s force presence wrapped around him.

Tonight, wasn’t the night, he realized, his stomach hurting at the thought. It might already be too late. It was probably too late, and Anakin didn’t even know why he’d thought that it would happen anyway.

He sat up, wiping angry tears off of his face and standing unsteadily.

Fine then. If Obi-Wan wasn’t here, if he wanted to spend the night in someone else’s bed instead of seeing what was right in front of him, then Anakin wouldn’t do the disservice to the both of them by being in his when he returned.

He let the door open and shut behind him, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he started over to his room, angrily letting the door open and stomping in, deciding that he’d sleep in his bed and then in the morning he’d put in the request to move quarters like he should have after his knighting ceremony. He was a Jedi Master now. He couldn’t continue to share quarters anyway, without it raising questions and he’d just tell Obi-Wan that. Yeah, that’s what he’d do, he’d crawl into his bed and-.

He stopped short, hand still reached out to pull back the covers.

Obi-Wan was curled up into a small ball in the middle of the bed and Anakin didn’t quite remember his master ever being that small. But he supposed it been a while since he’d seen anyone other than The Negotiator.

His auburn hair was fluffy like he’d just taken a shower and let it air dry, freckles dotting across his face from the sun he’d gotten during his month-long campaign in the Outer Rim. He was breathing deeply, His face was shoved into a pillow- Anakin’s pillow, his mind supplied- but he could still see his full lips, mouth slightly open in his sleep. Anakin pulled the blanket down a bit and looked to see his shoulders were bare, the skin lighter than his face from constantly being covered, but no less beautiful. The creamy white skin was still decorated with light dots and a few cuts that he must have gotten while fighting Grievous.

Anakin let his hand brush across Obi-Wan’s shoulder and Obi-Wan shuttered slightly in his sleep, body unconsciously moving towards Anakin.

All of Anakin’s anger had immediately been zapped from him, the tension falling from his body as he looked at the beautiful man in his bed.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, kicking off his shoes and crawling up onto the bed to shake him gently. Obi-Wan shuffled a bit and then stilled again.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said a little louder, letting his hand slip down across Obi-Wan’s clavicle.

He twitched again, eyes blinking open sleepily as he tried to get his bearings.

“Anakin,” he sighed when he saw him, letting his eyes close and opening his arms, “Mm there you are. Come lay down. It’s late.”

“You’re in my bed,” Anakin told him, trying to keep the smile out of his face.

“So I am,” Obi-Wan told him, voice giving nothing away.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Anakin asked him, shucking off his shirt as he climbed under the sheets with Obi-Wan and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

“I guess that depends on what you think it means,” Obi-Wan replied.

“You’re not answering my question,” Anakin told him, ducking his head so their foreheads were almost touching.

“You haven’t asked me a question I can answer,” Obi-Wan explained, “I may need a bit more context than that.”

He wanted Anakin to be specific? Anakin could be specific.

“If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and Anakin relaxed as he was the mirth behind his expression.

“I’m not sure,” he said, as if they were having a conversation about the weather, “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Anakin closed the space between them, taking Obi-Wan into his arm and kissing him with everything that he had, sucking on his bottom lip and licking along the crease of his lips until he opened his mouth to Anakin’s assault.

Anakin shifted, pulling Obi-Wan on top of him, grasping at his hips as he started to grind up into his. Obi-Wan let out a loud moan, pressing his own hips to meet Anakin’s thrusts and Anakin felt dizzy with the heat that was between them, the desperation for something they’d been waiting for, for too long.

They broke apart, both panting heavily and Obi-Wan started to drag his fingertips across Anakin’s chest. Goosebumps started to break out against his skin and Obi-Wan grinned at him.

“The war is officially over today,” he told Anakin.

“It is,” Anakin agreed, still breathing heavily.

“That means I’m officially no longer your superior officer, council member,” Obi-Wan told him, and then he bent down so that his lips brushed against Anakin’s ear, “We’re officially equals.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asked him, brain fuzzy with pleasure and anticipation at his words.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan replied, kissing down his neck and then his chest, hands roaming down the vee of his abs.

“Does this mean you can officially fuck me?” Anakin asked him, gasping as Obi-Wan sat up, hands trailing down this inside of his thighs.

“If that’s what you want,” Obi-Wan told him, blue-green eyes dark as his breath hitched.

“That’s what I want,” Anakin assured him, squirming under the man, “Please?”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” Obi-Wan mused, lifting his hips to start tugging at Anakin’s pants.

“Oh kark,” Anakin groaned as the cold air hit his cock. Obi-Wan started to pull of his own sleep pants and Anakin couldn’t help but watch, mouth going dry at the sight of him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, this isn’t going to last long,” Obi-Wan warned him.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives and if you don’t kriff me right now I’m going to die,” Anakin breathed out, moaning as Obi-Wan sat back down on his hips and leaned down to press another kiss to his mouth, this time an open-mouthed, rough kiss, teeth clashing together almost painfully.

“Then we’d better get moving,” Obi-Wan gave him a smirk, giving him a kiss before climbing off of him to spread his legs. Anakin eagerly let him, the weight of what was happening not settling in until Obi-Wan was between his spread legs, putting one of his feet against the bed and then sliding it back so that Anakin was exposed for him.

Anakin’s breath hitched and Obi-Wan looked up sharply, fingers brushing over his face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked him softly, “I won’t be mad if you want to wait.”

“I’ve been waiting for years,” Anakin argued, “I’m just a little nervous is all.”

Obi-Wan gave him a soft smile, kissing him as he shifted to dig between the mattress and the frame, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“How did you know that was there?” Anakin asked, face heating in embarrassment.

Obi-Wan hummed noncommittedly as he popped the cap and squeezed some out on his fingers.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin squeaked.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Obi-Wan told him as he started to circle his entrance, “And these walls aren’t that thick.”

Anakin was mortified, even as he started to pant harder when Obi-Wan slid a finger into him up to the first knuckle.

“You could hear me?” Anakin asked and then feeling as if he would die, “All of it?”

“Do you know how hard it was to stay on the right side of the door when you’re calling my name?” Obi-Wan asked him, voice thick with lust as he started thrusting one finger in and out of Anakin, “While you’re begging for me? When you come you leave the bond wide open and it’s like I’m in your body for a second, watching you shove your fingers in and out of yourself while you cry for me.”

“I didn’t know,” Anakin told him, head thrashing as Obi-Wan slides a second finger inside of him. His blood was boiling, and he felt like he’s being cooked from the inside out when Obi-Wan curled his fingers and hit his prostate straight on.

He won’t ever admit to the sound that comes out of his throat at the sensation.

“You look even more beautiful when it’s my fingers inside of you,” Obi-Wan told him huskily, “You’re flushed from your face to your cock while you squirm on my fingers.”

Anakin let out an impossibly high keen and pushed his hips back down onto Obi-Wan’s fingers harder. He feels like one point of concentrated heat and need and he almost sobbed when Obi-Wan slid a third finger into him.

“I want you; I want you, please,” Anakin mindlessly babbled. His cock was impossibly hard and Obi-Wan’s fingers felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be split open on Obi-Wan’s cock like he’d been dreaming of since he was his padawan. He pushed the mental image towards him, not trusting his mouth to be able to get the words out.

“Oh force,” Obi-Wan said breathlessly, “You’re so desperate for it.”

“Please,” Anakin begged, “Please.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers slid from him, and he whined at the empty feeling but then he opened his eyes at the snick of a bottle opening, watching with rapt attention as Obi-Wan started to spread the slick on his cock and then he was adding more against Anakin’s hole.

“Please,” Anakin sobbed out.

“It’s okay darling,” Obi-Wan shushed him, “I’ve got you. I promise.”

And then the head of his cock was pressed against Anakin’s hole and Anakin was taking a deep breath as Obi-Wan breached him, his body trying to resist the intrusion.

He felt as Obi-Wan pet at his hips, throwing Anakin’s bent leg over his shoulder.

“You’re doing so good dear one,” he told him, “Just relax and let me in.”

“Please, oh,” Anakin moaned, forcing his body to relax as Obi-Wan continued to press in.

It felt like forever before he was fully seated in Anakin, the pressure of being open so wide sending an ache through his spine.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan told him, panting as he shook with the effort of staying still, “Oh you’re so tight. You’re so tight, kriff.”

Anakin waited until the ache in his spine lessened and nodded at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan pulled his hips back slightly, pressing into him and then repeating it over and over, each time letting his cock slide out a little more until he was thrusting eagerly, pulling out until only the tip remained in Anakin and then pressing back in, in one solid motion, fucking the breath out of him.

The pain in his spine gave way to pleasure and he could feel his orgasm building in his gut, whimpers, and moans escaping his lips as Obi-Wan began to fuck him earnestly, the headboard of the bed shaking with every thrust.

“You’re so perfect,” Obi-Wan told him as he fucked him, “You’re so beautiful like this, split open on my cock. Look how good you take it.”

“Please, please, please,” Anakin babbled, his mind unable to come up with anything else as pressure started building in his balls and he desperately wrapped a hand around his cock, only for his hand to be pushed away, replaced with Obi-Wan’s calloused, tight grip. He stroked him once and then twice and Anakin was gone, letting out a wail as he came, back arching up as he painted his own stomach his cum.

His legs shook as Obi-Wan continued fucking him through the aftershocks, pressing against his over-sensitized prostate.

“I’m almost there,” Obi-Wan promised him, “You’re so good. You’re squeezing so tightly around me. Kriff, you feel so good. I’m so close- oh!”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan pulsing inside of him as he shoved into him one last time, something warm and wet splashing inside of him and filling him up.

Obi-Wan collapsed on him, panting heavily. They laid like that until Anakin started to squirm underneath of him, thighs beginning to cramp from the way Obi-Wan had him bent in half. Obi-Wan propped himself up on his elbows, pulling out and letting Anakin’s leg slip off of his shoulder before sliding into bed next to him and pulling their bodies together.

“We should probably shower,” Anakin told him sleepily.

Obi-Wan made a noncommittal noise, tucking Anakin’s head under his chin and tangling their legs together.

“Your cum is leaking out of me,” Anakin tried again and Obi-Wan’s grip tightened on him.

“Exactly how it should be,” Obi-Wan told him, “You’re mine and now you can’t forget it.”

“I’ve always been yours,” Anakin whispered into his chest, “I’ve waited for you for ten years Obi-Wan. While everyone else was out experimenting I knew exactly what I wanted.”

Obi-Wan clutched Anakin tighter to his chest, breathing out hard.

“I love you,” he whispered into Anakin’s hair.

“I love you too,” Anakin whispered into his chest.

[cora-vizsla]

Into The Dark- Chapter 1

Pairing: Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan

Word Count: 4.5K+

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: Just assume they’re all E at this point.

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Mentions of death/dying. Mention of war. Drugging. Snark. Angst. (I mean seriously if you know me you know angst is gonna happen)

A/N: This is the beginning! If you haven’t read Hypnotic this story isn’t going to make much sense to you. If you have read Hypnotic, welcome back! I hope you’re ready to be sad lol. Anyway, enjoy and let me know if I missed any tags!

“Darling, you can’t be serious. There is no way that you’re going.”

“I am being serious, and I am going. This isn’t really a discussion. I’ve already made up my mind.”

“Explain it to me. Please?”

Zara sighed and sat down next to her husband. Obi Wan smiled at her softly, brushing her hair back.

“Mace called me. Palpatine got loose which shouldn’t surprise anyone. I wouldn’t care but.. he took Cody.”

“Cody? Who the hell is Cody?”

They both looked up to Anakin walking in, a four-year-old Leia on his hip.

“Zara!”

She slipped down Anakins leg and bolted into Zara’s arms. She laughed and giggled as Zara held her close and spun her.

“Oh, my beautiful little Leia. Couldn’t let your daddy go without you?”

“Nope! Gotta watch him. Mama says so.”

Anakin rolled his eyes but laughed.

“I came here to help you, Obi Wan, but if that slimeball took Cody there is no talking her out of it.”

“The clone?”

“My friend.”

Zara snapped and glared at the blonde. He held his hands up defensively and sat back, crossing one leg over the other.

“Yeah, Oh-bee. Her friend!”

Zara laughed and kissed the girls cheek.

“That’s right. You get it. We protect our friends, no matter what.”

“No matter what!”

Zara set Leia down who immediately ran around the room getting into everything. Anakin sighed but Zara motioned for him to let her go. Out of the two, Leia was the well behaved one. She was busy but it was more out of curiosity than breaking anything. Luke was more likely to break things just to see how they worked.

“The question I have is why you didn’t call me to help you.”

“Mace was very clear that neither you nor Obi Wan were welcome on this mission.”

“So, you’re working for the Jedi. Again.”

“No, sweetheart. I am helping them get my friend to safety. We all know how dangerous Palpatine is.”

“All the more reason for me to be by your side.”

“Can’t say I disagree with the Sith, Zar.”

Zara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“No. Both of you will stay here. Anakin you have a family now. Your kids and wife are top priority. I’m not letting you get dragged into Jedi shit again. And you, my love, don’t play nice.”

“How rude, darling.”

“Rude, but correct. You don’t play nice with the Jedi and frankly I’m not letting you get near Palpatine again. He controlled you once.”

“So, you don’t trust me.”

Anakin cleared his throat and called for Leia. She ran over and jumped into his arms, holding on tightly.

“C’mon sweetheart. Aunt Zar needs to talk to her domesticated Sith.”

“Mama says you need to be nice to uncle Oh-Bee.”

“Well, mama isn’t here.”

“Good thing I am so I can tell her how mean you are to Aunt Zar’s husband who she loves very much.”

“It’s complicated, Leia.”

“Nope. Everyone duh-serves forgiveness, daddy. Plus, he makes Aunt Zar happy.”

Anakin sighed and looked at Zara for help, but she crossed her harms and shrugged.

“And don’t say its com-pluh-cated. You made Aunt Zara cry before. She forgave you. So, you should be nice.”

“You sound a lot like your mother.”

“Good! She’s the smartest person I know.”

Zara chuckled as Anakin sighed, defeated, and left the small home. She turned back to Obi Wan who had been watching her.

“We have a good life, Zara.”

“I agree.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

She sighed and let her shoulders slump slightly.

“Obi Wan, Cody meant a great deal to me. We worked together for a long time. I know that you don’t really work with anyone or play nice. It’s just when you work with someone for so long they become like family to you.”

“Not to be rude, but you left him before.”

“I left the entire order. I trusted the Jedi to keep the clones safe. They were to have their inhibitor chip removed and retired with honor. That isn’t what happened.”

“Well, your first mistake was trusting the Jedi.”

She sighed in frustration and got up off the couch. She put more things in her bag before turning to look at her husband.

“I need you to trust me. I need you to understand that a friend needs help.”

“And I need you to understand, my darling, that I know Sidious better than anyone on the Jedi counsel. What do you plan to do? Waltz in and tell him to give you your clone back and go back to jail?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what are you doing, Zara? This is reckless.”

“You wouldn’t save a friend if they were in danger?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“You wouldn’t save Anakin?”

“Absolutely not.”

Zara scowled and crossed her arms.

“Obi-Wan!”

“You could have picked anyone else we know, and I would have at least hesitated. That’s on you for choosing Anakin. It’s not like we’re the best of friends.”

“You wouldn’t save Padme? The twins?”

“I wouldn’t save them without you. I wouldn’t even dream of going without you.”

“Palpatine controlled you once.”

“Sidious had control; it was not over me. If you recall I convinced him not to kill you and tricked him into thinking that you were becoming my obedient little plaything. I tricked him at every corner, and he had no idea until the very end. Tell me I am wrong.”

She fell silent, looking at him with sadness written all over her face.

“Then tell me what the true problem is. Tell me that you’re afraid I’ll feel the dark side too strongly and go back. This has nothing to do with me not playing nice. It has everything to do with the Jedi playing into your fear of the very darkness that I carry inside of me and using it to control you. How can you not see that?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Which part?”

Zara looked down at her feet and chewed at her bottom lip.

“None of it. Cody needs my help. If I want the help and the resources needed to help him, I must do it their way. I love you with all my heart. I truly do. Is there some truth to what you said? Yes. I think I’ll always be afraid of you turning fully to the dark and not needing me anymore. The darkness does scare me. I’ve never said anything contrary to it. Your darkness doesn’t scare me though.”

“If you trust me, then you have to also trust that darkness, Zara.”

“I have to do this, Obi Wan.”

“You really don’t. You can’t change my mind of this.”

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”

Obi Wan stood up and walked to her, placing his hands gently on her arms.

“I know nothing that I say will stop you from going. I’ve known the entire time we’ve discussed this. Just know that I strongly think you should take me with you. We’re stronger together. Always have been, even if we didn’t want to admit it at the time.”

“I have to do this.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead, holding her close to him.

“Come back to me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of not coming back to you.”

“Don’t make me come looking for you either.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his torso, resting the side of her face on his chest.

“I mean it, Zara. I will tear this galaxy apart before I let anyone, or anything keep us apart.”

“I believe you.”

“Good. Just don’t ever let yourself forget that.”

XXX

Zara stepped down the ramp of her ship and pulled her saber into her hand, igniting it. She looked at the burned orange hue of it and thought of the man waiting for her. When she had settled onto Naboo, one of the first things she did was make a saber with the crystal he had given her at the ball.

Now she was glad for it. It reminded her of him and everything that she was always fighting for. It wasn’t as beautiful as his eyes, but it was close enough to bring her some peace. She wasn’t thrilled about not having him there, but she knew it was the best thing she could do.

She thought about their argument quite a bit on her trip. Obi Wan had been right about her fear. She feared losing him more than she feared losing her own life. The last thing she wanted to happen was for Palpatine to get his hands on him again. She couldn’t risk it.

The same went for Anakin. He had already twisted him beyond breaking once. He had no training with the darkness that he now carried. She had wondered if Obi-Wan could teach him but never brought it up. They didn’t get along and it came down to how much the darkness scared her.

It hurt her heart how much Obi-Wan was hurting. She didn’t do it to harm him, but it didn’t change that it did. Zara desperately wanted to get Cody to safety and go back to her life. They both deserved to be done fighting and yet there she was fighting another battle for the Jedi.

She made her way down the hallway and felt through the force. She sighed when she felt a familiar signature and moved into a wide-open room. In the middle of the floor was Cody, hands bound in front of him. Zara looked around to check for any traps but when she didn’t see any, she walked to her old friend.

“General?”

“Just Zara, Cody. I’m not a general anymore.”

“You.. you shouldn’t have come.”

“Of course, I did. You’re my friend. As soon as I found out you were missing, I came.”

“You don’t understand, General. That’s exactly what he wanted.”

“Who? Palpatine?”

“I’m so sorry.”

She knelt down to look at him and picked his head up to look at her gently. Her eyes widened when she saw that he had tears brimming his eyes.

“Cody, why are you sorry? We’ve talked about this in depth. I don’t care that you’re a clone. You mean-“

“I’m not the only one that knows your soft spot for clones, General. I can’t.. I’m so sorry.”

Before Zara could ask him what was wrong, she felt a jab in her arm. She looked down to see Cody sticking a syringe into her arm and push the plunger down all the way. She yanked her arms away and fell backwards onto her butt.

“Cody?”

“I told you.. you shouldn’t have come. I’m so sorry, General.”

The binders fell off Cody’s wrists and he stepped forward, pulling Zara up into his arms. The world was spinning so she shut her eyes, desperately wanting it to stop.

“I have her, sir.”

“Very good, CC-2224. Just as I expected. Bring her here. Destroy her ship before you do.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zara lost consciousness as Cody carried her to his ship. He set her down gently, placing her saber on his waist. Once she was settled, he walked over to her ship and looked through her belongings. He pulled out a few holo pictures that he clicked on. A small smile spread on his lips when he saw Anakin alive and well with Padme and two children. The other ones were of her and the Sith that had taken her. He had been worried when he first heard she had left the order with him but was assured it was her choice.

“You look so happy, General. Exactly what you should be.”

He closed his hands around the holos and slipped them into his pocket. He glanced at the dashboard and saw the emergency signal. He hesitated then reached past it, “accidentally” hitting the emergency button. When he stood up walked outside and waited.

“Stars, I hope that signal gets to someone.”

After a few moments he stepped back and shot at the fuel tank, exploding the ship as instructed. Once he made his way back into the ship and checked on Zara, he hit the coordinates for where he needed to go.

“I know you can’t hear me, General. I just hope you know I wouldn’t do this unless I had any other choice. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe. Hopefully General Skywalker and your Sith can find you in time.”

Once they were into hyperspace, he pulled her saber from his waist and looked at it. It was new from what he remembered, but still beautifully made. He expected nothing less from his former General.

He thought back on the first time he saw her. She showed up to command his troops with a smile on her face. He initially thought that she was going to be a weak leader and weakness meant death to clones. He had been so wrong.

She was the first Jedi to show compassion towards him and his men. She grieved their deaths just as much as he did. Nights when he was up wrestling with the pain of losing someone, she was always right by his side. She didn’t need to; the mission was always finished. She wanted to. She wanted them all to know that they were all individual people to her, regardless of where they came from.

She made it easy to run into the heat of battle. It wasn’t that he didn’t ever want to. He believed in his own fighting and trusted his brothers. It just came down to the fact that he wasn’t fighting for her. He was fighting alongside her.

He ignited the blade and widened his eyes when a new color came out. He didn’t know the particulars of the Jedi and their blades, but he had never seen a blade that color before. Cody looked down at his hand holding the hilt and frowned.

He had hurt her. What was even worse was the possibility that she would never forgive him for what he did. The chip had been deactivated before Order 66 could be initiated but somehow Sidious still had a hold over him. He had gotten close enough to him to activate it just enough to make him obedient. He glanced back at Zara asleep and shook his head.

“We will find a way to get out of this, General. We always do. Somehow, we will get you back to your happiness. Maybe I’ll even find a bit of it myself.”

He chuckled to himself and shook his head again.

“Look at me, thinking a clone can be anything more than a tool. You’d think I’d learn by now. Although you’d be yelling at me for even thinking that. Stars, General, I hope you don’t hate me forever for this.”

XXX

Mace sat in the council chambers alone. The last thing he wanted to do was call up Zara, but he didn’t see any other option. Once the war was ended, the Jedi no longer had the authority to do anything without the government’s approval. He knew that they wouldn’t send them for a single clone. As far as they were concerned Palpatine was no longer a threat. Not that the Jedi agreed with that at all.

When his coms went off with Zara’s emergency signal, he felt his chest get heavy. It ended just as quickly as it was received, but he knew the longer it took for her to message or call him, the worse that was. She had a propensity to bump into buttons, but she always called. He tried to call and was met with no answer. Master Yoda walked into the room and looked at him.

“Her signal went off then immediately went dead.”

“Feel it, do you? A great darkness, there is.”

“Yes. I feel it. It has to be Sidious.”

“Mmm. Yes. Suspect him, I do.”

“I’m going to have to reach out to Anakin and Veth.”

“Go. In much danger, she is.”

XXX

Obi-Wan sat in his home, reading the same book for the third time. As much as he wanted to reach out to Zara, he didn’t want her to think he was trying to distract her or force her back home. It was killing him though. Even just hearing her voice would make him feel better. He looked up from his book when he heard a ship land close by. Before he could stand up, Anakin was bursting into the house.

“Sith, it’s the Jedi.”

“Is Zara with them?”

“It’s only Master Windu.”

“Shit.”

He followed the younger man outside just in time to see Windu walking closer. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to see the Master Jedi at all.

“Anakin. Veth.”

The three men looked to the side as Padme and the twins came running out of their home.

“Wow, even your children are strong with the force.”

Anakin stepped in front of Mace and set his jaw; his hands balled into fists at his side.

“Don’t even look at them. They will never be hurt by you or the council.”

“I’m not here for your children, Anakin.”

“Where is my wife.”

Mace turned to look at Veth who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He still looked just as cocky to Mace as he had when he was a child, but the darkness swirling around him was new. It was the first time they had faced each other, other than through a holo communication.

“We should go inside. Small ears don’t need to hear this conversation.”

Anakin glanced over at Obi-Wan, who nodded back at him. Anakin looked back at Padme and gave her a tight smile before following Obi-Wan into the house. Once Mace made it through the door, Obi-Wan used the force to slam it behind him, smirking when the master Jedi jumped.

“If it weren’t for the children, you wouldn’t be welcome in this home. Now tell me, where is my wife and why is she not here with you?”

“She made it to where we though Sidious was with the clone trooper.”

“Cody.”

“What?”

“His name is Cody. You sent my wife to find him and don’t even have the courtesy to use the name she knows him by.”

Mace rolled his jaw and sighed.

“Cody. My apologies. She made it there safely and sent a communication she was heading inside the building. From there, we lost contact. Soon after, her emergency signal reached us and turned off within a few seconds.”

“And nothing since?”

“Nothing.”

“Sidious has her. That emergency signal was a mistake. Where is she.”

Obi-Wan was seething. Her being taken was exactly what he was afraid of, and he was completely powerless to change what was happening. The more he thought about how terrible Sidious was and how much she could be hurt, the more the room started swirling with darkness. Mace put his hand on his own saber and took a step back.

“Please calm down, Veth.”

“You called up my wife, the woman that I love more than anything in the galaxy and asked her to go on a fool’s errand with no backup. Then you come here and tell me that Darth Sidious, the most dangerous man I have ever met likely has her. Now you expect me to calm down. After everything you’ve done to me you’re lucky you’re still breathing. Let alone what you’ve done to her. She came to me broken, Master Windu. She came to me lost and afraid that she had lost every bit of her life and soul because she couldn’t live with your lies anymore. You nearly forced her to kill her best friend. Now you sent her into the hands of a madman. Tell me, why in the galaxy should I calm down?”

“I understand that you’re upset.”

Obi-Wan barked out a laugh and crossed his arms again.

“You don’t understand anything that the Jedi didn’t shove down your throat. Tell me where she is. I will go bring her back home where she belongs.”

“I’m going with you.”

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin and frowned. He could feel how unstable Anakin felt. The normal darkness around Obi-Wan he was used to, but the pure rage he was harnessing was drowning him. It wasn’t ever something that was discussed but he would never be able to fully get away from the dark side. It just wasn’t possible.

“You aren’t stable enough, Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan shot his finger out to point at Mace, shaking his head.

“You don’t get to tell him what to do, Mace. The audacity that you Jedi have. It is absolutely astounding that you thought you could walk into my home and tell anyone under this roof what to do.”

“You know he isn’t stable. I can’t be the only one who feels it.”

“What he is or isn’t is no problem of yours. Just give me the coordinates and I will take care of getting Zara back.”

“I want to help.”

“You have done enough. Now, if you will, I have much to do and none of that involves catering to you being in my home. You’re tarnishing the air and I won’t have it a moment longer.”

Mace sighed and shook his head, setting down a data stick with the coordinates and information about the ship she had been using. He thought about asking him how he planned on helping him, but he thought better and walked through the door. Once he left Anakin huffed out a frustrated sigh and grabbed the stick.

“Alright let’s go.”

“You aren’t going.”

“What!?”

Anakin spun around to glare at Obi-Wan.

“You just said-“

“I said he doesn’t get to come into my home and tell anyone what to do. That does not mean I don’t agree with him. You’re unstable. You have been for a long time.”

“I’m fine.”

“Tell me that my darkness didn’t affect you then.”

Anakin opened his mouth a few times and shut it, without uttering a word.

“Exactly. You have a family here that needs you.”

“Zara is my family too, Veth.”

“Stars above I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

Anakin smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why do you think I call you that?”

“You’re insufferable. I pity your former master. You wouldn’t have lasted five minutes having been my padawan.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m a lot stronger than you think I am.”

“I gladly would have tossed you off the first cliff we found. I considered it when we found you if I’m being entirely honest. Ungrateful brat that you are. You’re lucky when I shoved you it was to your safety.”

“I still don’t fully believe that was you. I don’t remember you being so smug.”

“No need for you to. It wouldn’t be the first time that you ignored the reality around you to construct fantasies that mean absolutely nothing to anyone else.”

“You’re an ass, do you know that?”

Obi-Wan barked out a laugh as he started gathering his supplies.

“Oh, I’ve been told. The fact of the matter is that you are not stable enough to come with me. I need to focus on Sidious and whatever he has planned. I can’t babysit you through your temper tantrums, reckless behavior and propensity to disobey any form of authority within a parsec of your location.”

Anakin frowned and huffed out a sigh.

“Then teach me.”

“Teach you? If Padme can’t control you, I highly doubt anyone else can.”

“I’ll listen! I’m not asking you to turn me to the dark side. I just.. I’m the only person in this situation that even remotely trusts you. If you would just help me, I can help you then we both can help Zara.”

He sighed and looked at the younger man in front of him. He meant what he had said to Zara: if given the choice he would not save him. He had a point though. He was someone he could trust to at least want to help his wife. After considering it for a moment he sighed and tossed his hands up in the air.

“Fine. Only if you go tell Padme that it is entirely your idea and that I was opposed to it from the beginning. You will listen to me and do as I tell you to. I will teach you how to control yourself at least enough to help Zara. Beyond that, just stay out of my way.”

“Yes! I’ll go grab my bag and let Padme know what is going on.”

Anakin head towards the door but paused when Obi-Wan spoke to him.

“And Anakin? The first time you aggravate me I’m shoving you out the airlock. Don’t think that I won’t either. I’ve killed for less.”

XXX

Cody carried a still unconscious Zara into a dark room, only having the very center lit up dimly.

“CC-2224 I see you have returned successfully.”

“Yes, sir.”

The shadow of a man stepped forward, using the force to push Zara’s hair from her face. Cody thought that she looked almost peaceful curled up in his harms, her face resting against his chest.

“You have pleased me, trooper. Now the next part of my plan begins. Take her to her chambers. She is not to leave unless I command it.”

“Sir, am I permitted to stay with her?”

“Yes. Keep her calm. Give her a reason to stay here. Though I don’t expect her to be on board with everything I say, at first, this entire plan is contingent on her falling in line.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cody turned, walking down a long hallway. Once he entered Zara’s chambers, the door shut and locked behind him. Normally it would have made him uneasy, but he was calmer knowing that he wouldn’t be separated from his former general just yet. He placed her down gently into the bed, careful to ensure she would be comfortable.

He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced down at the black armor that he now wore, unsure of how he liked it. He always wore armor, so it wasn’t new. It just made him uneasy at how dark it was.

When he shifted, he felt the holo pictures that he had taken from her ship. He pulled them out and turned on their display, looking at Zara’s family. He felt so much guilt and pain knowing that he was part of the reason she wasn’t home with them. Cody knew that nothing good was going to come from Sidious getting his hands on Zara, but he was determined that he wouldn’t let her forget where she belonged.

“I can’t let you forget something that you always deserved to have, Zara. I just can’t.”

Zara continued to sleep while Cody sat next to her. He was caught between his loyalty for her and his obligation to follow Palpatine. He wanted her to wake up, but he also was afraid of what she was going to say once she realized he had betrayed her.

“You’re so strong, General. If anyone can fix this, it’s you. I believe in you so much. Please have just a little bit of faith in me.”

Tag List:

@mapplestrudel @cannedsoupsucks @musubabii @mascaracoffee @ahsoka-padme

[shatouto]

eyes in liminality

(also on ao3)

The galaxy sees Obi-Wan Kenobi as the exemplary Jedi of the Order: calm, collected, and carefully detached. The galaxy sees Obi-Wan Kenobi as the aloof, accomplished being that he is reported to be: defeated a Sith when he was but an apprentice; training the Force’s son right after his knighting.

But if the galaxy truly has eyes, it would see that the child Kenobi is in his heart is not quite that much older than the child he carries under his wing. If the galaxy has eyes at all, they would see that deep inside Kenobi’s closet, hidden behind boxes and neatly folded clothing, there lies a redwood box that has not been opened in years. They would see inside the redwood box, where a coppery-auburn braid coils around a late Master’s lightsaber, silently reaching for its green Kyber core.

The galaxy does not have eyes.

——

The Council exits the Chamber of Ceremony in murmured chatter, leaving only the pair of former Master and newly-graduated Knight. Obi-Wan looks to his student, now a grown Jedi, with such pride in his chest that he cannot help but smile. Anakin is flushed and grinning ear-to-ear at him, bathed in the streams of early afternoon light that flow freely through tall windows. For a fraction of a second Obi-Wan wonders what it feels like to be Anakin right now. What it feels like to be knighted by your Master’s own warm hands and have them squeeze your shoulders as you think of a good gift-wrapping sentence to give them the severed braid in your hand.

Anakin fiddles with the golden cord of hair, twists it between his fingers. He has never been able to hide his fidgeting, and it isn’t as though Obi-Wan minds. It’s not quite proper, yes, but it is harmless. And quite endearing, although Obi-Wan would keep this remark to himself.

“Shall we walk back?”

Anakin nods, and shuffles closer to him as they traverse the hallways. Silence is barely noticeable between them, silken as a spring breeze and warm as a morning kiss. Anakin’s hands are firmly tucked into his sleeves, where Obi-Wan imagines he’s still wrapping and unwrapping the Padawan braid around his fingers. Obi-Wan stops himself before he could start wondering to whom Anakin is going to gift it. A Padawan’s severed braid is the most cherished, tangible remnant of their apprenticeship; the physical embodiment of their will and wits; the culmination of years of blood, sweat and tears. It is no small matter to decide who to entrust it, and it is often the case that a newly-knighted Jedi would place it in the hands of their former mentor as a token of gratitude and a treasured memento.

It is a privilege to be able to do so.

But, evidently, it is by no mean a mandatory practice. Some former Padawans do give their braids to their closest friends. Legends even have it that one old Master was known for having encased her braid in amber, like a pendant, and put it around the neck of her beloved varactyl. While uncommon, it isn’t unheard of that a former apprentice gave their Padawan braid to someone other than their Master. It is ultimately the decision of the individual fresh Knight, and they have no obligations to disclose the destinator of their braid nor the reason therefore. It should be keenly noted that not receiving their former apprentice’s Padawan braid does not reflect a failing on the part of the Master.

So Obi-Wan tells himself, when Anakin never comes to him with the golden braid.

It has been months after the ceremony, and he still wakes up some mornings wondering why.

He shouldn’t. It is utterly unbecoming of a Jedi to be so mired in such small matters. He knows better than anyone else that Anakin, his apprentice, his student, his friend, and often his mission partner, does not owe it to him. The fact that he is not Anakin’s first choice only means that somebody else has been cherishing Anakin better than he did. That is not, strictly, a Master’s failure. A personal failure, perhaps, but such a line of thoughts is unbearable and so opposed to the Code that Obi-Wan has little choice but to forfeit it. Moving on and living in the present is the only way, especially for a Jedi Master of his station.

And if he cannot, if the buried wounds fester and ache on lonesome starless night, then he has only himself to blame.

——

“Knight Skywalker… Skywalker!”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin dodges a hapless stranger who’s caught in the chase. He hops towards the stairs. “I need to go. I swear I’ll be back by this evening!”

“You have never kept that kind of promise in your life!” The healer who’s chasing after him is breathless and exasperated and, well, angry, although anger is unbefitting of a Jedi. “Knight Skywalker, come back here!”

“Sorry!” Anakin yells, without much thought, climbing over the spiral stairway’s railings. He drops himself down. Air reels through his hair as he free-falls, and he lands on his feet, only mildly aching where his shoulder has just been bandaged.

The ground is a little dented, but that’s not his problem.

He dashes across the corridor and catches a lift tube before the healer can send someone after him. Usually, this is where they give up - no use wasting so much time and effort on a runaway patient when there are plenty others in need - and Anakin is fairly sure this time it is the case too. He just has to be safe. He needs proper time, this time.

Because Obi-Wan has just gotten back to the Temple, and Anakin is finally ready.

He can just follow his Master’s light - he can do that even when they’re separated on an unknown mountainous planet covered in perennial fog, much less here in the Temple where the Force sings in their veins. He runs so fast he’s nearly gliding through the air, feet barely touching the ground. Obi-Wan’s signature beckons him in the most innocuous way, their bond glowing despite the conclusion of his apprenticeship about half a year ago. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done what all former Padawans are meant to do; although Anakin doubts the dissolution of a decade-long mental link is as simple as giving away one piece of yourself. He’s going to do that now, in any case.

(He hopes that doesn’t do anything to their bond, really.)

The door to their quarters slide open and Anakin hurries in, already smiling to feel Obi-Wan so near. Obi-Wan’s pack is still on the couch, and his shuffling in the kitchenette can be heard all the way from the main door. Anakin makes a beeline for it.

“Master,” he greets, so sure that Obi-Wan has also picked up on his presence that it surprises him a little to see Obi-Wan turn around slightly wide-eyed as if unaware. Still, his Master nods with the subtlest smile under his whisker and a tilt of the head. And then immediately he furrows his brows.

“Anakin, those are infirmary robes. Did you just—”

Anakin cuts in; there’s no time. “I have something I need to give to you.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a blank moment. “Is it something so important that you felt the need to cut your own treatment short for?” He gestures, eyes already intent on the bandages peeking out from under the too-loose vee of Anakin’s tunic.

“It is.” Anakin nods firmly.

He bids Obi-Wan to stay and wait and disappears into his bedroom. He’s kept it in a little leather pouch with suede drawstrings; dark and nothing elaborate, but sturdy and waterproof. He would have embroidered it if he had the time; although, if he thinks about it, it might be better this way, purely practical in a way that Obi-Wan would have appreciated more. Anakin’s not sure, really. He is working himself into nervousness and he needs to get out of this room before his courage fails him in the most crucial moment.

His Master is still standing in wait in the middle of the living room by the time he returns. Briefly Anakin wonders why Obi-Wan doesn’t take a seat; but there isn’t any time to question that now.

(Maybe if Anakin is any less distracted by the fluttering in his stomach, he would have noticed Obi-Wan’s hands bunched beneath his great sleeves, the way he always does to hide his own anxiety.)

He positions himself before Obi-Wan, almost stilted with his sudden compulsion for solemnity. He blinks, and smiles, and he thinks he has whispered Here it is, or he might’ve only thought the words and hoped Obi-Wan heard them too. Either way, he opens the pouch, gingerly pulls out the item. He takes Obi-Wan’s hand, and presses into it a bracelet.

A bracelet made of Anakin’s braid.

Gentle light sheens on the golden cord. Strung onto it are a few Japor beads that has taken Anakin quite some time to find. They rest snugly against the old bands - red, for piloting, and blue, for mechanics - that Obi-Wan has tied on with his own hands years ago. The ends of the braid are secured with lightsaber-steel caps and connected to a clasp. It lies serenely against the valley of Obi-Wan’s palm, almost glowing in the early afternoon sun.

Silence. Anakin peeks at his former Master’s face from under his lashes, chewing the inside of his mouth. He’ll be the first to admit that he has gone the unusual route. He can already imagine some other Master calling it frivolous, even. Not that he cares. He doesn’t care about anybody’s possible comment or side-eye at this moment, or ever. Just Obi-Wan’s.

And Obi-Wan’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted, but that is about it. Although surprise has never shown itself so blatantly on Obi-Wan’s face, it’s still such an understated display. Anakin’s bravery is slowly seeping down the drain, his heart thumping madly all the way to his trembling fingertips.

“I, uh, I made it,” he says, just to say something. Obi-Wan’s lashes flutter as if he is only blinking himself awake then. Anakin swallows thickly, and continues, “I figured that, um, this way, you could wear it if you wanted to. You don’t have to wear it, of course! You can keep the pouch. I mean you can keep it with the pouch. Keep it in the pouch.” Anakin winces, tripping over his words. “I’m not going to take it back, it’s still my Padawan braid which you—”

“Thank you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiles, and Anakin freezes. His Master’s warm hand with all of its familiar calluses closes around his own, squeezing around his knuckles in a clear display of affectedness. There’s that flush across Obi-Wan’s face too, tinting his ears pink.

“You’re welcome. Sorry it took so long.” Anakin grins, even as the corners of his lips wobble and his eyes sting because Obi-Wan is unclasping the bracelet right then and there. He intercepts. “Here, Master, let me put it on for you.”

So he takes Obi-Wan’s hand and he rolls down the undertunic sleeve a little bit; he secures the braid around his Master’s wrist and he pulls the sleeve above it, safely concealing that part of himself on Obi-Wan’s person. He pats the spot and can’t bring himself to pull away.

Obi-Wan doesn’t, either. He leaves out a moment before speaking up so tenderly: “Anakin?”

“I just…” Anakin struggles. He lingers in the liminality between apprenticeship and knighthood even as they stand as equals, tethering himself onto the former Master with whom his bond still shines. “I need a moment.”

Obi-Wan holds his, and now both of their hands are linked together, fingers upon fingers, closing around each other like layers of mutual protection. Their hands are about the same size now, aren’t they? There was a time when his whole spread hand would fit into Obi-Wan’s palm like a tiny starfish, no more. Anakin brushes a thumb over this one scar on the back of Obi-Wan’s hand. He can’t remember who saved whose life that time. It’s not like there is a difference, anyway.

“...So do I,” says Obi-Wan, so quietly. Something wavers in his voice and glistens in his eyes and Anakin can see it. Anakin sees it all.

——

Perhaps, the galaxy does have eyes.

[cl-01-kestis]

Closer - Commander Wolffe x Jedi!Reader | nsfw

Summary: a steamy one night stand with the commander of the 104th makes things a bit awkward when you join his platoon under the request of Plo Koon.

Warnings: masturbation, degrading if you squint, choking

This day just couldn’t get any better if it tried.

One minute you were dealing with the catastrophe that Maul left behind with Obi-Wan, the next you were assigned to work with the 104th by your old Master, Plo Koon. This wasn’t the situation you wanted to be in, not now, not ever.

It wasn’t like you had a choice, Plo was someone you valued more than anyone, he was practically your father, you couldn’t turn his request down out of the fear of hurting him. So you decided to accept but asked for a few weeks of preparation before you done so.

Now, here you were. Those weeks had passed quicker than you could sheath your lightsaber and you were carrying your bag on your shoulder as you stepped onto the ship picking you up from Naboo, Plo and Comet waiting for you with smiles on their faces as they welcomed you with open arms. You wondered deep down where Wolffe and Sinker were at but you kept your mouth shut, avoiding suspicions as you hugged your once-Master and put up mental barriers to protect your thoughts.

The trip to Coruscant was comfortable, you made great conversation with Comet as Plo flew the ship, catching up on all the fun you had missed whilst you were out living on Naboo and protecting the royal family with your own battalion, the 265th. It was sad saying goodbye to them but thankfully someone was taking over from your position so they weren’t entirely alone.

You asked about Wolffe, as embarrassing as it was. It caused Comet to raise a brow and smirk at you when Plo wasn’t listening. You nudged Comet and rolled your eyes when he cleared his throat to stop himself from smiling. It came as no surprise to you that the Wolfpack knew about that incident between you and Wolffe a few months ago, they were brothers so of course they knew. But you tried not to think about it too much, focusing on the next few weeks ahead which would surely be hell.

When you arrived on Coruscant, you were immediately escourted to your new chambers at the Jedi temple kindly by Comet instead of Plo, who had ‘business’ to attend to before vanishing. Your chambers were comfortable, that’s all you had to say. You admit you missed your room back at the Naboo Palace but there was no turning back now, this was your life from this day forth.

You changed into your grey Jedi robes after going for a shower and made your way to the military platform nearby the temple. The trip there took about half an hour at the speed you were running at and thankfully you had just arrived on time for Sinker and Wolffe returning from a small mission they had. Comet walked along with you after racing up to say hello, offering you his arm as the two of you trailed over to Plo who had his arms clasped his hands behind his back.

Things seemed quiet, only the distant sound of footsteps approached which caused Comet to let go of your arm and immediately stand at attention. Your body was tense as you stood beside Plo and held your head high, eyes focusing on the two white and grey clones approaching you both.

“Welcome back Commander, safe trip back?” Plo asked with a brow raised, walking a few steps and meeting Wolffe halfway as the clone removed his helmet, revealing the face you feared to see.

Looking down at your feet, you swapped the occasional glance with Comet who stood awkwardly beside you, as if he understood what you were feeling, and tried offering you a kind smile. You cleared your throat in an attempt to get rid of the tension surrounding you, but when your Master called your name, you knew you couldn’t hide anymore.

“Yes Master?” You perked up, taking a step forward and keeping your eyes on him as much as you could, your palms getting sweaty and breathing getting shorter as you kept your calm facade glued to your face.

“You remember Commander Wolffe, he worked with you a few months ago on Naboo” Plo stretched his arm out, gesturing for you to come closer and unfortunately speak to Wolffe, this was a nightmare.

“Y-yes of course, how could I forget” You blurred out, sounding shy and almost idiotic as your eyes finally connected to the odd yet beautiful eyes of the Commander of the 104th.

“Nice to see you again, General, settled into Coruscant after your trip from Naboo?” Wolffe sounded so casual compared to you, as if he didn’t remember anything from months ago, to be honest that was a pretty good thing.

“Yes, it’s quite nice being back but I do miss my home” You answered, offering Wolffe a smile which he returned before Plo called over Comet and Sinker to give them further orders. The conversation between you and Wolffe was cut off very quickly and before you knew it, you were heading to one of the many hangars to get ready for your first mission. Everything was moving so fast You almost got a headache but thankfully you could get some rest once you were on Plo’s ship.

Plo’s ship was big, there was no denying it. There were bunkers at the back for the clones to sleep in and multiple refreshers. The cockpit was small though, it only allowed allowed 3-4 people at a time but the body of the ship was fairly spacious. You sat down beside Sinker on the copilot seats and folded your arms over your chest, nestling into the leather seat which provided heat for your cold body.

“We’re off to Kamino to spectate the cadets training, it isn’t much of a mission but it’ll be a good thing for the boys to be back home” Plo spoke, steering the ship out of the hangar and flying towards the sky as he spoke. You buckled yourself in and got comfy as Wolffe and Comet buckled theirselves in outside of the cockpit, chatting amongst theirselves quietly as if they were exchanging secrets.

“First time to Kamino, General?” Sinker asked with a smile, clicking his belt together as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. You hummed, feeling your ears pop at the pressure as the ship slowly rose out of the atmosphere and into space.

“It is, I’ve never been good at flying though so I hope the trip won’t take that long” You sighed, clamping your nose with your index finger and thumb and blowing slightly to put the pressure off your ears, hearing them adjust to the volume as they popped once more.

“It won’t take that long in light speed, but go and get some rest it you want” Plo turned his head and looked at you before standing up from his seat and cracking his back, sighing pleasantly to himself.

“Are you sure, Master?” You asked instinctively. Plo chuckled.

“Still at it with the old names, (Y/N), you keep forgetting I’m not your Master anymore” Plo teased, his black eyes creasing at the corners as if he were smiling. You blushed at his words and nodded your head, turning to look at Sinker who was smiling at you in amusement.

“Old habits die hard I guess” You sighed, unbuckling yourself from your copilot seat as you watched the ship drift softly in the atmosphere, far far away from Coruscant already. You looked out the window for a short moment, your fingers skimming the glass surface as you were almost enchanted by the way the stars dotted the black void surrounding you.

“Never fails to take my breath away” Comet entered the room, patting your shoulder and dragging your attention away from the stars. You smiled at the clone and nodded your head in agreement.

“I agree; seeing the stars never gets old” You added, turning around and bumping shoulders with Comet before exiting the cockpit and stretching your arms above your head, closing your eyes and letting out a small moan of satisfaction. Your noise didn’t go unnoticed, you seemed to miss Wolffe sitting by himself as he clenched his jaw at the sight of you. You walked towards the back of the ship, approaching the small bunker on the left and entering it whilst yawning.

You closed the door with a soft push and headed towards one of the many cabin beds in the bunker. It was pretty cold in the back of the ship so you blew got air in your hands and tried to warm them up. You took the bottom bed of the cabin bed at the back, the sheets cold against your skin as you tried getting comfortable on it, your legs bent as your back pressed against the mattress. You stared up at the mattress above you which was held by the metal structure of the cabin bed, creaking slightly as you shuffled around in your bed.

You closed your eyes and raised your arms up to support your head, eyebrows furrowing as you tried desperately to fall asleep but something was keeping you awake. You couldn’t shake it off. Opening your eyes back up, you grumbled angrily to yourself as a deep frown sunk onto your face.

The room was too cold, you needed heat. You propped yourself up on your elbows and thought of different ways to warm yourself up. You could fight the cold and just wrap yourself up tightly in your robes but that would take too long. There was no blankets on the ship and Plo wouldn’t offer you his cloak for extra warmth. Maybe... just maybe you could try something you wouldn’t usually try on a mission such as this.

You cursed to yourself as you hooked your fingers around the waistband of your trousers, sliding them down along side your underwear from your hips and shimmying out of them, the waistband now clinging to your mid thighs as your hips and the place between your thighs was on full show. The cold air hit you and you gasped quietly to yourself. You were so dead if someone were to walk through the door but a part of you needed this.

One of your hands trailed down your stomach, pushing up the robes covering your torso and revealing your tummy. Your fingers grazed the skin before moving towards your sex, your eyes shutting over as your fingers began working their magic on yourself.

It didn’t take long for you to start panting, eyes squeezed shut and breathing sharp and raspy, one hand clamped over your mouth whereas the other continued rubbing your sex at a fast pace. You let out a moan and quickly glanced at the door to see if anyone was approaching, all whilst touching yourself with more force. It was getting harder and harder to suppress your moans but you got more turned on at the thought of someone hearing you, maybe even Wolffe. Your mind got dirty, but your fantasies encouraged you to go faster.

Your breath caught in your throat when you heard footsteps approach the bunker and before you could stop and quickly pull up your trousers, the door opened and Wolffe walked in casually.

“Kriff” You whispered, pulling up your trousers even though his eyes landed on you and his jaw fell open immediately. His eyes almost bulged out of his head and his face lit up with red the moment he realised what you were doing.

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait till you were somewhere more private?” Wolffe asked, crossing his arms and frowning as if he were a parent. You gulped, looking at your hand and slyly rubbing it against the material of your trousers, clearly embarrassed at the fact you had been caught. Wolffe stared at your fingers, noticing the light shining on them and revealing the glistening wetness/precum that coated them. His breath hitched in his throat and his mind flashed with all the events that happened months ago, feeling himself grow hard in his uniform as he tried looking away from you and thought of something else.

You were here though... the person he fantasied so much until this moment. Would he let this opportunity go to waste?

“What were you doing?” He asked with a tone that made your heart flutter, you gripped the sheets with your hand that wasn’t wet and looked away from his intense stare, feeling how hot your face was and realising just how humiliating this whole situation was.

“You know what I was going, why ask?” You snapped, looking back up at Wolffe and noticing he had reached over and locked the door. Your eyes widened and your heart sped up rapidly. Was this about to happen? Your master was right outside of those doors.

“I want to hear it from you” Wolffe had such authority over you with just that tone of voice, your knees clamped tight together and you made a soft noise of vulnerability. Wolffe walked up to you and bent down on one knee in front of you, his eyes level with yours as his hand placed itself on your thigh. You tensed under his touch and you flinched at the sudden contact, trying to avoid his gaze but it was impossible when he was moving closer to you.

“Are we seriously going to do this again?” You chuckled, causing Wolffe to crack a grin as he shrugged his shoulders as a reply. Wolffe surprised you by pressing his lips against yours in a sweet and short peck, nuzzling his nose against yours once he pulled away. Surprised at his actions, you brushed it aside and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close and pressing your chest against his as you kissed him harder.

Wolffe’s arms grabbed your waist and before you knew it, he picked you up from the bunk bed and slammed you against the nearest wall, hips colliding with yours as his mouth pressed against your neck and left a love bite there. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him and linked your heels around his back, closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh as he sunk his teeth into your skin.

“What if someone comes in?” You asked, holding in soft moans and whimpers as Wolffe continued biting your neck and didn’t bother looking back to meet your gaze as he hummed.

“Guess you’ll have to be real quiet then, General” He smirked, hips tightening against yours as one of his hands trailed up your body to wrap around your throat. Your breath hitched, mouth open slightly as Wolffe leaned back to admire what he’d done to your neck, stroking the hickies softly with his thumb before tightening his grip on your neck. Your hips rubbed against his armour for some kind of friction, your breathing becoming heavy and sharp the more Wolffe waited to do something.

“Just fuck me already, commander” You pleaded softly whilst giving Wolffe a desperate look, biting your lip and purposfully winding him up to relieve that tension buried in your stomach. The commander between your legs let out a low, predator like growl and held your neck with a sturdy grip before slamming his lips hard against yours. It was all tongue and teeth, the both of you were hot and needy for one another and the kiss proved it.

Wolffe didn’t need to undress you from your robes, nor did he need to take off all of his armour. The two of you were risking it all to have sex whilst on a mission so neither of you had time for the full event, that could wait until you got back to Coruscant.

Wolffe delicately placed you on the ground so you could take off your trousers without any mess or confusion, him doing the same as he removed the white plate of armour covering his crotch before taking himself out of his blacks.

The both of you fumbled with your clothes, removing them as if it were a competition. Wolffe bit his lip as he looked down at the place between your legs which was now uncovered.

Quickly, he picked you back up as if you weighed nothing and pushed you against the wall once again, his breath hot on your neck. You closed your eyes and smiled, doing your best to keep in a moan as he thrusted into you with force.

This mission was going to be more interesting than you anticipated.

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Anakin Skywalker - Older

Warnings: Death, Mention of the Dark Side [haha]

Words: 2,1k

[10 years earlier]

“FATHER!” My throat was raw as the piercing scream came out of my throat. Obi-Wan was stuck in two different pulsing electrons as we watched my father die. Tears of anger and revenge shot on my face.

As the pulsing electrons disappeared in front of me, my lightsaber shot up, the green color filing up the space around me. My legs were running before I knew it, while taking the first step to attacking the Sith. My fellow Jedi walked behind me, now attacking the Sith by two. Slashing sounds were all that could be heard through the grunts and the lightsabers hitting themselves.

My mind was racked with wrong ideas, ideas that weren’t the Jedi way, but now my father was the one to pay. Our enemy made me trip over the melting pit, but I cached a nozzle on the side before perishing into the whole. My lightsaber, that my father had helped me do it, fell into it. It was probably the only thing that I had that reminded me of him.

Obi-Wan needed to fight the Sith, but I knew that our opposant was stronger. I looked all around me to see what I could use to defend myself, as I saw my father’s lightsaber lying by him.

I’ve always been good with the Force, but when it comes to situations like these, I can barely function with the pressure. I focused my mind to help myself raise from the pit and to take my father’s belonging. I felt a boost of adrenaline run through my veins, making me lift up from the ground and catch my father’s lightsaber through the thin air.

I approached the both of them and attacked the Sith ruthlessly, slashing his body in half, and seeing him fall into the pit. I immediately rush to my father’s side, taking his hand in mine as Obi-Wan placed his head on his lap.

“Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was filled with sadness and helplessness. Tears ran on his delicate face, making me tear up.

“It is too late...It's...” My father’s voice rang through my ears, making me regret not spending enough time with him.

“No, Father. Please don’t go.” My father looked down at me, holding his hand to my cheek, as I held his on my face, feeling his warmth for the last time.

“Y/N, my… beautiful daughter, Obi-Wan, promise me you’ll… both train…the boy.” He whispered loud enough for us to hear. I nodded my head against his hand.

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan ran his fingers on his face, admiring the only father figure he had.

“He is the chosen one...he will...bring balance...train him! Y/N… I love… you…” His hand fell from my cheek, falling on the ground. My heart was broken and a powerful heartbreak was unleashed inside of me.

“Father, NO. Please wake up, I-I-I need you.” My head fell on his chest as I felt Obi-Wan taking me away from his body.

“No, Obi-Wan, No.” I sobbed while he took me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry...” He whispered in my ear, brushing his hand by my neck, making me look up to him.

“I know it-t-t hurts, but we need to leave, now.” I nodded against my own will, but our Jedi duties were needed. I took my father’s precious lightsaber in mine and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I will always love you, father.” I stood up and Obi-Wan led me towards the real battle.

[10 years later]

“Master Y/N?” A soft voice made me snap out of my thoughts. I had heard news that two Jedi knights were coming to help protect Senator Amidala. It made me relive some odd memories about my father, and my journey along the path of light.

“Yes?” My padawan came through the doorway of my chamber. He was one of the younger children I had helped in my journey. Most of my padawan were children who were orphans and didn’t know how to control their gift.

“The Jedi Knights are arriving.” He softly spoke to me. I smiled in approval. “Thank you, dear one. You may have the day to yourself, enjoy it!” He ran through the doorway, going to join his friends in the junior training center.

I really loved to work with the children, especially with the younger ones. It reminded me of my pleasant childhood on Coruscant. I walked towards the elevator, ready to welcome the two Jedi Knights. I didn’t know who were coming, but I felt a great force coming from the two of them.

I heard the doors open and turned around. I immediately recognize their faces.

Obi-Wan and… Anakin? Perhaps.

“Y/N!” He almost ran up to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me tight against him. We trained most of the time together, and eventually became best friends.

“It’s great seeing you after all this time, Obi-Wan.” I gave him a squeeze around his back as he let go of our embrace, taking a good look at the woman I became. I looked at the teenager behind him and I could recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

“Anakin? God, you’ve grown.” A smile grew on his face, I walked closer to him, smiling back at him, and embracing him into my arms. He wrapped his arms around my middle and landed his head in the crook of my neck.

His smell was always one of the things I always loved about him; he would always smell like sunshine and warm vanilla. I had no idea how much I had missed him until now. He mumbled something against my neck, making me shiver in his embrace. “I have missed you, Y/N.” His voice was much deeper and more mature, making me remind me of our last meeting ten years ago.

“I missed you too, Anakin.” I whispered by his neck, making me press my hand towards his hair, feeling his brownish hair in my fingers. We separated and just looked at each other for a few seconds.

I normally wouldn’t feel like this, but he made my heart flutter for the first time. After my father’s death, my heart couldn’t be repaired or fixed by anyone. His death had created a void in my soul, which made me loose some of my powers for a while.

Jar-Jar made his way towards the protectors and led them towards the Senator. Anakin turned his figure and smiled at me, offering me a small wink.

I smiled back and made my way towards the training center, which was below the conference floor. I had lived in Coruscant for a long time now, and it was and always will be my home.

[Time Skip]

I was training in the center with some electronics. I still had, even 10 years after, his lightsaber. I always had ease with the green lightsaber, as it offered me balance in my very core. Yes, I had my father who guided me before, but he appeared to me a few times. His Force was given to me after his perish, and I knew he would always be with me.

I used a blindfold to cover my eyes, seeing through it with my Force, my lightsaber was ignited and I took a deep breath before concentrating myself.

The electronic shot. Blocked it. It shot again, blocked it again. This sequence was repeated a long time before I took of my blindfold and decided to meditate.

As I removed it, I say Anakin standing in the doorway, eavesdropping. I closed my saber and walked closer to my training equipment.

“Hi there, pretty boy. Want to come in?” He nodded, smirking slightly. I opened the window that was facing towards the city, directly pointing at the sunset. We both walked towards the opening.

“How have you been, Y/N?” I took a deep breath and looked up at him, leaning against the railing.

“It’s been a hard couple of years, but otherwise I’ve been great, Anakin. I finished my padawan training and I’ve been on the council for about five years now. To be honest, I’ve never thought that I would be on the council someday.”

I chuckled to myself, hearing the words of my father that he used to tell me when I was younger; “When you’ll get older, I promise you that you will have a seat by my side, on the council.” This promise could’ve been fulfilled if things were different.

“And you? I imagine a lot has happened since I’ve met you on Tatooine.” He smiled and leaned too against the railing.

“Well, I’ve had loads of training sessions with Master Obi-Wan, but I do believe I would be ready for the trials.” He turned his head to me, running his hand through his hair. “I know that I should’ve started training when I was younger, but I feel it in my soul. I really do.”

“I get that Anakin, and I’m a master now, which can be helpful if you would want me to talk to the council, or even just to get you to do the trials without anyone, but me, knowing.” His feature stood up straight, as did mine.

His nose arrived at the top of my head, as I looked up to his complexion. “You wou…could do that?” I nodded as he wrapped his arms around my middle, spinning me in the air with him. A laugh came out of my throat for the first time in years.

As he put me down, still holding on to me, I wrapped my arms behind his neck, slightly running my fingertips in his soft hair. Anakin lifted his head, still looking in my Y/E/C eyes. His deep blue eyes and features were glowing against the dim daylight. They both looked down to my lips, lowering his head to meet mine.

Our lips collided together, making me stand up on my feet to reach his level. His hands travelled lower to my waist, pulling me closer into his warm embrace. His soft palm travelled all the way to the back of my head, making a chill run up down my spine.

My lips against his felt, like fire on ice. Soothing and loving in both ways. He was delicate and soft with me, just like he always was. My Anakin.

Even though I knew that “love” was forbidden in our sacred code, he and I had a different way of thinking. I had heard one of his conversation with the senator the other day, and somehow I couldn’t get it out of my head: “Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life.”

I always thought this way, because I knew that my father had a woman in his life, maybe he didn’t love her but he made sure that I knew that he loved me.

We both parted, as a smile grew on my face. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I turned ten.”

“You waited that long, huh?” A small laugh came out of his mouth.

“Yes, Master Jinn.” I kissed him again, this time his hands making their way through my hair, finding a small braid on the back of my Y/H/L Y/H/C hair.

He placed a small kiss on my nose before taking the braid in his fingers. “Is that…”

“My padawan braid, yes. I kept it, because it reminded me of you and, my father. He was the one to place the bands on it, when I was Master Windu's padawan.”

“I can never remember what the bands are supposed to mean.” His softness made me laugh.

“Well, the yellow and the red at the bottom are the ones I had when I was thirteen and sixteen, and then the white and green ones mean that I am a counselor and also a healer. Mostly healer, but I do have great skills from my previous master.”

“Oh, I do not doubt that.” I nudged him in his rib, making him chuckled a little. We both didn’t realise that the sun had gone out, when I looked to my right, seeing the stars appear.

“I believe your duties are calling, Anakin.” He nodded and gave me a last kiss, before running toward his master, a few floors higher.

“Y/N!” I turned to Anakin, seeing him stand on the doorway. “How about we train together tomorrow?” I smiled and gladly accepted. He turned around, practically jumping towards the elevator which made me smile even brighter than I was before.

[agoddamn]

When did "hyperspace lanes" become a thing, anyway? I get that they're there to be a proxy for traditional territory grabs because the war we're familiar with does not map well to space (I've gone on about this before, cough), but I don't remember them in the movies. I vaguely remember "hyperspace corridor" being tossed around in the EU pre-TCW, but I always got the impression that those were more rough delineations of popular/traversible routes than something you can blockade and hold

Wasn't the test in the Domino Squad ep called the Citadel?

"He's picking and choosing which assignments I can be a part of!" Yes, Ahsoka... that's basic decision-making??

Plo has a logo on his vambrace like Obi-Wan. Sasae Tiin does, too

"It's not his decision when and how I put my life in danger; it should be my choice." Well, the one running the op gets to assess who's gonna be the most useful on the op. Aside from that, though, does the concept of being a minor literally not exist in Star Wars? It would... explain a lot

How on earth did Ahsoka tag along when there were a limited number of freezing machines

This whole episode having the mood of "oh, that willful Ahsoka!" rather than "you compromised this operation and people are dead" is why I don't entertain the "muh child soldiers" argument for more than a second; everything so blatantly runs on kids' show logic where teenagers do all sorts of deadly things because they're marketable

While Ahsoka's explaining herself, Obi-Wan chats with Cody in the background :3c

There's, what...Fives, Echo, Rex, Cody and two or three redshirts here?

The stiff disappointment in Cody's voice at "no jetpacks"

I like how Obi-Wan doesn't have to stop dangling off the edge because this motherfucker has no neck

As someone who's squeezed into small pipes before it's goddamn nerve-wracking. Ahsoka is very chill about all this

RIP Charger

...so it doesn't even matter that Ahsoka snuck them in if they immediately trip the alarm

Oh, there's more redshirts here than I thought

For like half a second when Anakin said "take out security" I thought they'd brought a slicer clone but the guy just fucking shoots a camera, lmao why did I think it would be anything else

RIP Longshot

Huh. It's Cody that stops for Longshot and Obi-Wan who tells him they have to go

>Cody tackles an assassin droid

IS YOUR GUN DECORATIVE??

Rare specific mention of officers, with all of them in one cell. Sucks to be the 99% non-officer crew complement, though

I love that deactivation shit is EXACTLY like KOTOR where someone just has their saber clip into it and uhhh sure that's "off"

"It's going to be impossible to escape" wow, what a quitter

RIP another 212th guy. He's half the man he used to be

In contrast to the usual assumption that Jedi are soft and ignorant, Piell here is...actually pretty OPERATOR. Made the best choices to protect the mission, pushed for the better escape route, never stops to bitch. Poor bastard, being stuck with Tarkin

I like how I can't stand this droid comedy but I find the HK factory hilarious

...the droid calls Artoo Commander. Does Artoo have rank? Is he an officer? I wouldn't put it past Anakin

SHIIIIIELD

Literally the most effective small arms setup in Star Wars and I bet we never see it again

RIP 212th rando #3. They gave up naming the cannon fodder after Longshot I suppose

Ahsoka looks like she has a natural inclination for gymnastics...and maybe a worse sense of smell? Everyone else in here is holding their nose

Tarkin why the fuck are you whining about the Jedi not being hardass enough when you literally have the most operator general, what the fuck

I like how I'm supposed to be extra sad about this dead clone when at least four guys have already bit it with no ceremony. Within thirty seconds Anakin is making quips about big explosions; there might have been a picture of a blasted helmet, but the narrative is untouched by death. A clone dying is not a big enough deal for the narrative to get somber over, so why should I care?

Oh so THIS is where that gif of Cody jumping on the droid and shooting it out from under his own feet is from

RIP to two or three more dudes, though at least one was in greys

Plo has these neat engravings on his rebreather. It's a nice touch, for an assistive device that's a regular part of life to get decorated like a regular part of life

"What if your Jedi friends aren't there when we arrive?" Then you die, like you were going to ANYWAY, fucking hell you're a whiner

"either way, he is a good captain" no he the fuck ain't, keeping up morale is part of being a leader. Has one of Piell's clones even spoken? They've died, but they didn't get to talk

These guys are talking like they found out they're sharing the same sugar daddy

RIP one...two? more of Piell's guys. Couldn't tell if that second one got back up after Piell jumped in front of him

There's two grays left, which means--wait, one of them is Tarkin

THEY WIPED OUT MY WHOLE SQUAD: 卌 ||||

... and the last gray dies for Tarkin. Imagine getting captured, probably tortured, and then dying in the extraction zone to save Tarkin

Oh wait, Fives deserves a tick too (you know, to the best of his knowledge)

THEY WIPED OUT MY WHOLE SQUAD: 卌卌

Touching moral about how sometimes you force your way into a mission you're not qualified for out of ego and damn near everyone dies but you're now the most important part of the mission! Wew

Oh wow, is there one more grey left alive after all? The little clone that could. No, I shouldn't jinx him...

So, to recap: the objectives were to recover Piell and stop the Separatists from getting the coordinates

Piell is dead

Piell's entire officer complement save the world's biggest cockmunch is dead

All of the clone strike team aside from the battalion leaders and Fives are dead

You lost like fifteen guys, including a Jedi, and recovered three people, none of whom were who you were sent to rescue

But they got the coordinates...I guess...

:Wilhelm:

Coburn is Plo's admiral?

Oh my GOD the Plo's Bros noseart is so cute

I like how they're talking about how Anakin and Tarkin are brilliant military men and there's zero mention of how much of this shit got carried by Piell

Is this show...strawmanning...itself?

[blackkatmagic]

Can you imagine how many people. Jedi and Vode, who'd be drawing up plans to hunt down Dark Woman if Jon got de-aged (sans older memories, at least at first)? Like, this tiny terrified 8-10 (tiny for his age of course) year old who ALREADY HAS SOME OF HIS WORSE SCARS and /flinches/ but tries to puff himself up like a cornered kitten, and he doesn't kno who any of these people are and there's Jedi but they aren't anything like his Master and people keep slipping him bits of food?

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and there's a note of contained panic in his voice that has never boded well for Cody's steady increase in grey hairs. “How far out are you?”

Kriff. There’s no good reason for that question, especially when Obi-Wan was just supposed to be on an exploratory mission in the forest here. Something about the Force, and resonance, and Ventress vanishing into this place and not being seen since, but—Cody will admit some of the more Force-related things went right over his head when Anakin and Obi-Wan were talking about it.

“Five minutes, sir,” he promises, and jerks his head at Waxer. With a grimace, Waxer waves the rest of the squad on faster, then gets on the comm, probably to Anakin or Rex.

“Oh, good.” Obi-Wan sounds exhausted, and worry prickles down Cody's spine. “If I could ask it of you, Commander, try not to look…alarming when you approach.”

Well, Cody thinks with a sinking feeling. He’s probably being held hostage. Or he tripped over some previously undiscovered natives and is trying to broker a peace deal with them despite a language barrier and having grievously offended their queen. That’s just about how this day—how Obi-Wan’s life—is going.

“Sir?” Waxer asks, and Cody makes a couple of rapid calculations and tips his head.

“You're with me,” he says, because Waxer is one of the nicest people he knows, and that carries through in his mannerisms. And…well. Cody doesn’t particularly want to include Shank, but if Obi-Wan is hurt, they’ll need him. “Grab Shank. And Boil.” Because Boil at least won't let anything happen to Waxer, and Shank can take care of himself, which leaves Cody to protect Obi-Wan if things go south. When things go south.

“Oh no,” Waxer says, with rather more good humor than Cody is capable of. “What did the general get himself into now?”

What hasn’t the general gotten himself into, Cody thinks is the better question. He sighs a little, and Waxer laughs at him, then gestures for the rest of the unit to hang back as they approach a moss-covered bank. A moment later, Boil and Shank are both pushing through the ranks, falling in behind them, and Cody pauses just long enough to give them both a look.

“General said to come in as non-threatening as we can,” he warns. Shank probably makes a face at him. He knows Boil rolls his eyes, because Waxer elbows him like he’s a shiny and not Cody's second-in-command. But—that’s their dynamic. Cody's keeping his nose out of it.

“Come on,” he says, resigned, and shoulders his blaster, climbing up the soft bank and over the lip of it. Narrow, leaning trees form a natural arch, and Cody steps through it, then down a rough, green-filmed set of stone steps into a small hollow. He catches sight of his general immediately; Obi-Wan is seated on a fallen log that’s sprouting ferns, facing away from them. His head is ducked, and Cody can hear his voice, pitched low and soothing. A new pathetic lifeform acquired, to paraphrase Anakin, Cody assumes with a flicker of relief that bleeds into amusement.

“General Kenobi?” he asks, and Obi-Wan lifts his head. Glances back, his own relief filling his face, and then rises to his feet with far more care than normal. Cody can practically hear Shank come to attention, but before he can bull his way forward and demand to see to the general’s health, Obi-Wan turns.

There's a child with him.

Cody doesn’t quite falter, but it’s a near thing. The general has a little boy with him, Human or near-Human, with dark hair and pale eyes and a wide scar across one cheek. He’s wrapped in a robe that’s too dark to be Obi-Wan’s, and he’s small. Cody's got a skewed sense of ages, given how quickly the clones age, but this kid can't be more than eight.

He’s also not clinging to Obi-Wan, which is strange. Any other kid, seeing four big, armed men in faceless armor approaching, would hide behind the nearest familiar adult. This one doesn’t, though; his eyes dart to them, widen, but he holds himself stock-still, one polite step away from Obi-Wan, without even trying to touch.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and he’s more relieved to see Cody now than he usually is in the middle of a firefight. Cody raises a brow, but comes to a halt and nods.

“General,” he says. “Having fun, sir?”

The curl of Obi-Wan’s mouth is rueful. “Always, Cody. But I believe I figured out what happened to Ventress, given that it almost happened to me.”

“Sir?” Cody asks, alarmed, and Obi-Wan quickly raises his hands. The kid flinches, immediate and instinctive, and then freezes, and Obi-Wan does too. He eyes the kid sidelong, then takes a strained breath, lowers his hands, and gives Cody a strained smile.

“I'm fine,” he says, and unlike in most cases, Cody is almost inclined to believe him this time. “Master Antilles saved me before the—the beings here could take exception to my poking around.”

Cody blinks. He wasn’t aware of any other Jedi in the area, and that’s generally the kind of information that crosses his desk. “Antilles?” he asks. If there's a general by that name, he’s never encountered a reference to them before.

With a faint grimace, Obi-Wan takes a step back, then slowly, deliberately drops a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Jedi Master Jon Antilles,” he says formally, and then his mouth twists. “Or, well. He was. I believe this is the initiate version.”

“Padawan,” the kid says, so soft it’s hardly even audible. When Obi-Wan glances at him, he ducks his head and says, “Sorry, Master.”

“That’s quite all right, Jon,” Obi-Wan says gently, though Cody can see a trace of something in his face that means things are wrong here and he doesn’t like them. “Thank you for correcting me.”

Jon doesn’t so much as lift his head. If anything, he ducks it further, practically sinking into his massively oversized robe, and doesn’t say anything.

There's a look on his face, though, something Cody recognizes. Just a flicker of it, but—

It’s strange, to see a brother’s expression of a Jedi.

Slowly, deliberately, Cody sinks down to one knee in front of the kid, reaching up to catch his helmet. He pulls it off, then rests it on the ground beside him, and gives the boy his best smile. “Hey,” he says. “I'm Cody. Jon's not your name, is it?”

Quickly, the kid shakes his head, and Cody can hear Obi-Wan’s breath catch in alarm. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t waver, just watches the kid’s eyes trace over his own scar, his armor, his lax hand where it rests on his knee.

“No, sir,” the kid finally says. “I don’t have a name. If I had one, I’d own myself, and Jedi don’t own anything.”

Obi-Wan is a good diplomat, with hardly any tells, but over the months of the war Cody has learned to read him. He can see the faint tensing of his shoulders, can hear the indrawn breath, the way his fingers twitch with barely-contained anger. Not a normal Jedi thing, then.

“That makes sense,” Cody says evenly, and it does, in a terrible kind of way. It’s looking at names the way a clone does, but denying a sense of self rather than embracing it. “Is it all right if we call you Jon, though?”

The kid pauses, like he’s weighing his response, and then nods solemnly. Cody smiles at him, holding out a hand like he would with another clone, and when Jon gives it a curious glance, Cody says, “It’s a Mandalorian greeting. You clasp my wrist, and I clasp yours, and that means we’re allies.”

“Oh,” Jon says, and carefully, tentatively slides a hand out of the pile of robe around him. There are more scars on his arm, pale but not yet faded, and Cody breathes in, keeps his emotions as steady as possible and buries the flicker of rage deep down. He takes Jon's hand instead, gripping his thin wrist, and then rises to his feet.

“It’s a long walk back to the camp,” he says, and when Jon looks up at him, ghost-pale eyes in the gloom, he gives him a grin. “Want to hitch a ride with me, Jon?”

Jon's gaze flickers from Cody to Obi-Wan and then over to Waxer, Boil, and Shank, still waiting at the top of the hill. “I can walk,” he says carefully.

“I know,” Cody says without hesitation. “But I’d like to carry you, if you're okay with that.”

It takes another moment of consideration, another wary glance, but Jon finally nods. Cody leans down, and says, “Thank you. All right, put your arms around my neck.”

Jon does so, still cautious, and Cody gently wraps an arm around his thighs, hauls him up, and he’s small and light and completely swallowed by the robe he must have worn as an adult. As soon as Cody has a solid grip on him, he buries his face in Cody's neck, and there's a fine tremor running through him, a whispered mantra that Cody can only just hear. A Jedi mantra, and his heart kicks behind his ribs as he curls a hand over Jon's back, holding him firmly.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s okay. We’re allies now, right? Nothing will happen to you with us. General Kenobi looks out for the people around him.”

There's a long pause, and then a breath. “Master says I need to not be afraid,” Jon says miserably.

“Jon,” Obi-Wan says, then picks up Cody's helmet and steps around him to face Jon squarely. There's a smile on his face, and he reaches out, tugs the oversized hood up and over Jon's head. “Your Master is a well-respected woman, but she is in seclusion right now, so I’ll be taking over your training. At least for the time being. Is that all right?”

There's no sound, no visible reaction, but Cody can feel something like relief ease through Jon. “Okay, Master Kenobi,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

“No, Jon. Thank you,” Obi-Wan says, and puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You may not remember it, but you saved my life.”

Jon ducks his head again, hiding under his hood, but this seems like it’s more embarrassment than uncertainty, so Cody chuckles. He hitches Jon up a little higher, then says, “Ready to head back when you are, sir.”

“Thank you, Cody.” The truth of it is in Obi-Wan’s eyes, relief and chagrin. “I believe I need to comm the council as soon as we return. This place is…certainly unique. And they’ll need to know that the reports of Jon Antilles’s death was incorrect. Again.”

There’s definitely a story there. Cody snorts, but trails his general up the hill, to where Shank is practically vibrating and Waxer is speaking into his comm, every line of his body looking deeply concerned.

“Waxer?” Cody asks, that sinking sensation deciding to reassert itself.

“Sorry, sir,” Waxer says, chagrined. “But…Captain Rex says General Agen Kolar just showed up at camp with Ventress. But she’s a padawan. A Jedi padawan.”

Oh.

Cody slants a glance at Obi-Wan, who looks very, very tired. “I will most definitely comm the council,” he says ruefully. “All right, off we go.”

The head resting against his throat turns, just a little, and Cody breathes out, presses a hand to his back. “Just a little further,” he tells Jon, and tips his head at Shank. Shank’s not exactly good with kids, but he’ll figure out what to do. “Then we’ll get you checked over and find some clothes that fit you, all right, Jon?”

“Okay,” Jon says quietly, and small fingers curl against Cody's armor. “Can—can I call you Cody?”

“Of course you can,” Cody says firmly, and follows his general out of the hollow, Jedi padawan on his hip.

[On AO3]

[tennessoui]

Hi miss Kit! So um, I'm not the anon who had the idea about the Pokemon obikin AU but I saw that you're still looking for a prompt so I did some brainstorming?

Obviously Anakin is aiming to be a Pokemon Master which is why he'll have to fight the elite four eventually. Which is not an easy task despite what the games might imply! So what if, despite breezing through the gyms before, beating Team Rocket and having a team that is powerful and adores him, he still fails his first attempt at the league.

I remember Prof Oak telling your rival after you beat him in gen 1 that he lost to you because he doesn't love his Pokemon enough which is bullsh*t!! But must surely be a cutting remark.

So ofc he goes to caretaker!Obi-Wan afterwards because he is a former Pokemon trainer so how has he dealt with loss before? Does Anakin really not love his team enough? Bonus points if Obi has challenged the league before (and won??)

I just realized that this is way too angsty for the Pokemon universe >.< everything is nice and soft here

alright!!!!!! finally!!! here is that pokémon au, a bastardization of this prompt and @sinhalbutnoangst 's prompt "24: Right before a passionate/first kiss & 16: “There’s nothing to be scared of, okay? I’m right here.” For a Pokémon AU !!!"

I hope y'all both enjoy or at least find parts to be happy about!!!

(fair warning i don't know a lot about pokémon so who knows how accurate this is at ALL)

(3.3k)

(i've linked each pokémon name with their pokedex picture just so everyone knows what they look like. no need to read the descriptions or anything)(god knows i didn't half the time)

Obi-Wan is in the water, tending to a shy gyarados a trainer had left behind as a Magikarp a few months ago, when on the shore his flareon raises its muzzle and barks loudly. That’s her signal that someone’s arrived at the Daycare center proper. Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows, as he strokes his hand down the gyarados' side.

“I always tell them to call ahead,” he mutters as the pokemon nudges closer for more attention. “Why do they never call ahead?”

Gyarados knocks him hard in the arm. It’s clear she wants more pats, but business calls.

“Would you mind terribly taking me back to shore, dear?” Obi-Wan asks politely. It’d be faster than swimming all the way there, and it would strengthen the Pokémon's connection with humans.

On the shore, Flareon bounds around in a circle, tail flickering back and forth. It must be someone she recognizes the scent of. A regular then. That means Obi-Wan can take his time getting back to the counter to greet them, but he probably shouldn’t show up dripping wet in only a pair of swim trunks.

Luckily, Gyarados gives him a lift, bellowing mournfully to be left alone again when Obi-Wan alights onto the sand. When her trainer comes back to pick it up, Obi-Wan has half a mind to offer to buy her from them. No one who actually cares about their pokemon would leave a magikarp to become a gyarados under the care and instruction of someone else.

But becoming known as the Daycare Runner who gets attached to Pokémon and tries to keep them is perhaps a serious threat to his business as a whole. And he’s already done that too many times.

No, the best thing to do is to wait for the trainer to come back and sit them down to give them a serious talk about their Pokémon’s emotional needs. They’re probably young. Most trainers are these days. On some level you have to be in order to have the energy to travel as much as you do, to sleep on the ground more nights than not.

Yes, they’re probably young, and more focused on gym battles than their Pokémons’ growth and happiness. It happens sometimes with tunnel vision like that. Too many advertisements for the Pokémon League, the Elite Four, the Gym badges. Obi-Wan had been the same way when he was a kid.

He gathers his clothes from the shoreline and slips on his shoes. Flareon tries to help dry him out by wrapping herself repeatedly around his ankles and cooing out gusts of warm air, but all it does is create a new and unusual tripping hazard.

Especially when she suddenly perks up, about halfway to the building and jumps forward into a run. Obi-Wan stares after her, confused, clothes held in a slackened grip until he sees a very familiar growlithe running fult tilt from around the building. It hops the fence with practiced ease that makes Obi-Wan inwardly despair at the lesson it’s unwittingly teaching all of the other Pokémon.

But he can’t deny the way his heart thuds when he realizes what its presence means. His flareon, embarrassingly enough, seems to be thinking along the same lines, as she bounds up to the growlithe and starts winding between his legs instead, rubbing her head over every part of black and orange fur she can reach.

Obi-Wan sighs and shucks on his buttoned shirt, shaking out the water from his hair. He doesn’t even really bother with pants, seeing as his wet swim trunks go almost to his knees.

It’s Anakin. Anakin’s here. Anakin hasn’t been here for four months when he left in the midst of a shouting match. Obi-Wan has been trying--unsuccessfully--to put Anakin out of his mind. And now Anakin’s growlithe is prancing towards him like it’s a special present to see him at all.

“Yes, hello there,” Obi-Wan murmurs, pausing in buttoning up his shirt so he can pet at the growlithe’s--what does Anakin call him again?--muzzle. For a second, the Pokémon nuzzles back, scenting his face and neck as territorial Pokémon are wont to do, before it moves quickly forward and grabs Obi-Wan by the shirt, swinging him up onto its back.

Out of shock and a latent survival instinct, Obi-Wan drops the rest of his clothes and clings to the Pokémon’s back. “Shit!” is on the tip of his tongue the entire two minutes it takes to bound back to the fence, over it and through the welcome doors of his own Daycare.

Anakin is standing, back to the entrance, furiously tapping the bell on the desk, looking somehow both desperate and bored.

Growlithe barks once, twice, and shakes himself hard enough that Obi-Wan knows to let go before he gets rolled over upon.

It’s not the most graceful entrance he would have chosen after going months without seeing Anakin, to land on his back, partially dressed and smelling like the sea at the Pokémon trainer’s feet.

Anakin at least has the wherewithal to be both surprised and immediately worried. “Obi-Wan!” he yelps, turning around immediately upon his growlithe’s bark of victory.

“Yes, hello there,” Obi-Wan says dryly sitting up from his sprawl and combing a nervous hand through his hair.

“Where are your clothes?” Anakin asks shrilly, turning a very interesting shade of magenta and looking quickly away from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan couldn’t be more different, what with the way he looks at Anakin as if he’s starved for the sight of him. It’s been several long months since they last saw each other. The fight had been...awful, to say the least. Anakin had accused him of not really wanting him to succeed. Obi-Wan had accused him of the same tunnel vision he diagnoses most young adults to have.

Neither had been true. Obi-Wan hadn’t even meant it, but he’d been mad. He’d been mad that Anakin hadn’t even thought to listen to him more than a Gym Leader he’d just defeated.

Palpatine had urged him to go straight to the League. Obi-Wan had thought it prudent to return home to his mother, give his Pokémon a break, work his way to the island of the Pokémon League naturally as a means of bonding with and further testing his Pokémon. He has no idea who Anakin ended up listening to. It’s been something that has haunted him for weeks.

“Out in the back,” Obi-Wan grunts, standing and trying to pick up the shattered pieces of his dignity under the Pokémon trainer’s wide-eyed stare. Anakin’s grown older in the past few months, his face sharper. What is he now, newly twenty-three? Halfway to twenty-four? “Your Growlithe was quite enthusiastic to bring me here as soon as possible.”

Anakin flushes and looks down at his feet. He looks tired, Obi-Wan decides. Like he’s walked the entire continent just to show up at his door.

“Sorry,” Anakin says sheepishly. “I had--”

“Him out and walking with you, I know,” Obi-Wan finishes with a fond shake of his head. He buttons the last necessary button on his shirt and sweeps past Anakin to stand behind his desk. “You always liked having one of them out with you. How’s your Jolteon?”

“Twilight?” Anakin asks, sounding surprised Obi-Wan even remembered he had a jolteon. He tries not to feel offended. It’s an unfortunate truth that Obi-Wan remembers almost everything about Anakin, the trainer that used to hang around his daycare as though he couldn’t bear to step more than fifty paces from his front door. “He’s fine. A bit angry with me, I think.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan asks, furrowing his brow as he looks up at his guest. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Anakin is quiet for a few seconds, and his hands clench down on the edge of the counter-top. When he speaks, his voice wavers. “Obi-Wan...do you think my Pokémon love me? Like, do you think I am a good trainer?”

Obi-Wan stares at him. This isn’t a conversation he should have without pants on, he decides. He slowly puts his pen down. “What happened, Anakin?” he asks gently, reaching out and laying a hand on the arm Anakin still has resting against the counter.

“I lost,” his favorite trainer whispers, looking down. Growlithe--Resolute, that’s what Anakin had named him--noses into the nape of his neck. Obi-Wan is not jealous. “I challenged the Elite Four, and I lost in the second round.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tightens completely involuntarily. He hates hearing that after their years-long friendship, the last few years where he’d thought perhaps they were on the verge of being something more, despite his reservations, Anakin had listened to Palpatine over him. Palpatine.

“Come around back here,” he instructs after a second’s thought. Somehow, still, after all these months, he thinks he knows what Anakin needs. “And release all of your Pokémon from their Pokéballs.”

“All of them?” Anakin asks, sounding so unsure Obi-Wan’s heart aches with the doubt of it all before he reigns that in. This isn’t about him.

This isn’t about him, but he can’t stop himself from asking, just once, “Yes. Do you trust me?”

Anakin’s fingers hesitate on the seal of his first Pokéball, and Obi-Wan’s heart jumps into his throat. “Yeah,” Anakin finally says gruffly, pressing the release. “Yeah, I do.”

His altaria pops out of her Pokéball with a trill and a flap of her cloud-shaped wings. He just catches a hint of the jolteon materialize into existence before he turns his back. “I’m going to put on proper clothes,” he tells Anakin over his shoulder. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure your Pokémon will remember half the ones here.”

And all of the ones Obi-Wan calls his own, he doesn’t add. Anakin should know. Anakin’s known them since he was fifteen years old and surly over the fact that his mother wouldn’t let him go out and hunt legendary Pokémon until he finished schooling.

He finds his abandoned clothes quickly, and shuffles into them. Flareon noses around him curiously, with more than a bit of excitement. She probably smells Anakin on him. The thought doesn’t warm his cheeks, but if it does, he’ll blame it on the sudden amount of heat she’s giving off.

He leaves his shirt as is and doesn’t even bother with the vest or tie. He’s not here to be Professor Kenobi. He’s here to be Obi-Wan, Anakin’s friend. That’s what Anakin needs from him right now. A friend.

He fixes his hair anyway in a mad bout of nerves, but no one, not even his mienshao or flareon, obsessed with appearances as they are, are paying enough attention to him in order to soothe his sudden insecurities.

More than anything, he wants to be back in the sea, surrounded by the gyarados’ coils. He doesn’t understand humans as much as he would like to, and he certainly doesn’t understand Anakin. Not anymore. Perhaps he never did.

His flareon bumps at his wrist with the crown of her head and he looks down with a sigh. “Someone’s excited, I see,” he murmurs wryly, smoothing down the stuck-up fur of her hair and chest mane. She purrs. “Not the most excited though,” he adds with a huff as he sees a blur of white and blue from the corner of his eyes as the female Meowstic who spends most of her time strolling the parameter of the Daycare abandons her position to dart towards the backdoors where a newly emerged navy male Meowstic stands waiting.

They collide and curl into each other, two halves of one whole brought back together.

Well, that’s as good as any sign to approach Anakin, who has decided to collapse on the soft grass of the enclosure. Other than the Meowstic, his freed Pokémon have curled around him. The jolteon, Artoo, rests by his head, while his charizard, Mustafar, brackets the length of his body with his own. The growlithe sits watchful at his feet, while a new, unfamiliar pancham curls up on his chest. Finally, his gallade sits cross-legged to his side.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan drawls before he can help himself, “It’s very obvious that your Pokémon don’t love you.”

Anakin bolts upright at the sound of his voice. The pancham growls at him, a baby noise that Obi-Wan didn’t necessarily think the species capable of.

The Pokémon trainer hushes it quickly with a stern, “Vader, no.”

Obi-Wan comes to sit cross-legged in front of the man. “You didn’t have a pancham last time,” he says easily. What he really wants to ask is much more complicated. He wants to know everything. He wants to know how Anakin changed. When. Why. He wants to know what’s still the same.

It’s always complicated when it comes to Anakin. It’s never been easy.

“He was injured when I found him,” Anakin admits, stroking the top of Vader’s head. “But a fighter. I think I was injured when I found him too.”

The man seems so lost in his own recollections that Obi-Wan hates to interrupt. Carefully, Anakin’s jolteon, Twilight, noses his hand. When he’s not pushed away, he jumps into Obi-Wan’s lap with a trill. Flareon lets out a hiss, but acquiesces when the jolteon licks at her snout, accepting her ownership of Obi-Wan.

“I had just lost,” Anakin says slowly. “I wanted to come back here, rent a Lapras and just ride until I saw the shoreline I knew was yours. But I didn’t know what you’d say to me. How mad you’d still be.”

Obi-Wan bites his lip. He wouldn’t have been mad. He’d been worried, from the second Anakin left his property. But how to tell the man that? Would the other even want to hear it? Would he think Obi-Wan was trying to infantilize him, to protect him?

“I didn’t want you to be right.” Anakin whispers, arms tightening around the Pokémon. “I didn’t want you to be right and say that I wasn’t ready. And then I was in the forest, walking home, and I found this guy. He’d been attacked by a bug pokémon who was probably a higher level. But he was so angry still. I...I wanted him on my team. I needed that fire back.”

Obi-Wan suddenly thinks that there’s much more distance between them than there should be. He wants to be hugging Anakin, to be kissing his temple. These were allowances they had given each other before the fight, things that Obi-Wan had squirreled away, close to his heart.

He wants them back.

“But I keep thinking about how the professor who gave me my first Pokémon told this guy I beat in my first battle that he lost because he didn’t love his Pokémon right, and I...I’m just worried that’s why I lost.” Anakin stares down at his pancham, who puts his paws on his cheeks and pats a few times.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighs. He thinks it sounds too fond, too revealing, but Anakin looks up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “I’ve never known a trainer to love his Pokémon more, dear one.”

“Then why?” Anakin asks plaintively, scooting forward until their knees brush. “Why did I lose? The gym leader of Cinnabar Island told me I would win!”

Obi-Wan, quite maturely in his opinion, doesn’t mention the fact that the recently defeated Palpatine probably had ulterior motives for Anakin to challenge the league too quickly and then fail. “You weren’t ready, Anakin,” he says instead, placing his hand on the other’s knee and holding it even when the trainer jerks out of his grp. “Please, listen. It's about sheer time, training experience. It’s not about you or your relationship to your Pokémon. You have such an amazing, strong relationship with them! They love you. Anyone could tell. And you’re not lacking in skill either. I know your mind is sharp and ready for battle.”

Anakin looks at him teary-eyed. “I’ve been so worried that maybe they didn’t know I loved them,” he admits in a wavering voice.

Obi-Wan can’t resist moving impossibly closer to his trainer. “Oh, Anakin, of course they do. Pokémon don’t always express or interpret love the same way humans do, but they do have their own ways of showing it.”

“Like what?” Anakin sniffles, wiping at his wet eyes. If Obi-Wan had really been listening, he would have noticed the change in his tone. As it is, he continues immediately, too focused on trying to stop his trainer from crying to think of anything else.

“A fire-type Pokémon wil try to warm you if they think you’re cold, even if it means staying up all night to keep you in in its flame. And fighting-type Pokémon are capable of throwing a blanket over you if they think you need to rest. Psychic-types have been known to read their trainer’s emotions and either hug them or give them distance whenever they want. Ground- and bug-type have been known to bring berries to their trainers to get them something to eat, and electric--why are you looking at me like that?” Anakin’s nascent smirk grows bigger at this interruption and he cocks his head to the side as he studies Obi-Wan’s face. “And what does it say about a man who spends all of his time around Pokémon, that he would do those exact same things for me?”

Obi-Wan at least understands enough to scurry backwards a few paces, much to the jolteon in his lap’s distress, who jumps away with a huff.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he says quickly.

Anakin inches forward, setting the pancham, Vader, aside. He really has grown in the past few months. The loss of the League, the months apparently spent on the road, have aged him so that he’s both recognizable and something new and wild. “What if I knew of a man,” Anakin murmurs, falling to his palms as he closes the gap between them. “One who warmed me when I was cold, covered me when I was tired, hugged me when I was needy, and fed me when I was hungry? What would that mean, in terms of Pokémon?”

Obi-Wan swallows nervously. His entire body is bracketed by Anakin. Anakin, who seems to have discovered his most-guarded secret in their months apart. Anakin, who is hovering over him now with a dark look in his eyes. Finally something in Obi-Wan gives way. This is it. He will give Anakin everything he asks for. Everything he needs. He’s always tried to do this exact thing.

“I suppose that would mean he loved you,” he whispers, closing his eyes so he does not have to see Anakin’s recoil, Anakin’s disgust.

Anakin hums instead. “Obi-Wan,” he whispers, exhale hitting his lips. “Obi-Wan, open your eyes. There’s nothing to be scared of, beloved. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

At these words, Obi-Wan’s eyes jump open of their own accord. Anakin’s lips press down onto his in a movement just as sudden. He whimpers involuntarily and reaches up to clutch at the trainer’s hair, hold him to his mouth. Just as involuntarily, his lips part and Anakin’s tongue licks around the gap before darting inside. He moans. It’s shameful, the way he goes from scared to sucking on Anakin’s tongue as if he’ll die without the warm intrusion of it.

It hardly feels like the first time they’ve kissed. It feels like they’ve been kissing for years, like Anakin knows his mouth completely and utterly.

There are so many secrets left between them. Obi-Wan’s one unopened Pokéball, sitting on his belt. Anakin’s relationship with that last Gym leader. What he’s been doing these past few months. What Obi-Wan Kenobi made his fortune off of.

But none of it matters now. Not here at this moment. All that matters is showing Anakin that he’s been just as missed, just as wanted.

With that in mind, Obi-Wan rolls on top of his trainer and shoves his hands up inside Anakin’s shirt to trace along the muscles of his chest and back. This was his. His, his, his. He had come back to him. Everything else could wait.