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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Anakin, Shmi, and the Jedi Babies

(Plus Jango)

A scene from the Anakin and the Jedi Babies

Warnings for: canon-typical discussion of slavery.

Shmi is eleven years old when the stranger comes.

He’s tall, and covered in the kind of dark clothes that are hell in the desert. He’s got some armor, too, but not as much as the Mandalorians she sees walking around sometimes. His expression is mean, even though he’s smiling, and she thinks the trader is scared of him.

He’s buying her.

“Now I just need a name for the ownership paperwork,” the trader says. She thinks he’s sweating.

“The sale is already completed, yes?” the stranger says. He tilts his head and purses his lips, still smirking. “No sudden fees coming my way?”

“Of course not, honored customer,” the trader simpers.

“Anakin Skywalker.”

Shmi’s heart stops. That’s her family name.

The trader gets a little paler, as he realizes why this man is here. Shmi watches the calculations fly, wondering if he can maybe squeeze out a few extra wupiupi on this sale. Former slaves freeing family, even family they don’t know, always fetches the highest price.

The stranger—Anakin—leans across the counter and looms over the trader, smiling in the most threatening way Shmi’s ever seen. “No sudden fees, right?”

“Well, there will be the code transfer f—”

“I’m the most dangerous person in this city,” the man says, smile dropping away like flies from a bantha. “Don’t make me prove it, friend.”

The sale is secured, the codes handed over, the detonator passing hands.

Shmi falls into step next to Anakin, hurrying to keep up with his longer strides. He takes her a few blocks away without a word, and then into a shallow spot in an alleyway, right where foot traffic won’t be a bother.

“Hey,” he says, dropping to one knee and placing himself where, even when she sets her gaze low, he’ll be there. He smiles at her, hesitant but far, far kinder than what she saw in the shop. “Do you want me to deactivate your chip now, or once we’re on my ship? I can’t remove it until we’re out of here; I’m no surgeon.”

“…now, please,” she whispers, and watches him punch in the numbers and codes to neutralize the bomb she’s carried inside herself since she was three. It’s done in less than two minutes.

“Do you want me to break this?” he asks, voice soft.

She nods, and watches in fascination as he crushes it in his fist with seemingly no effort.

He smiles at her, tosses the shards into the nearest compactor, and then offers her the hand that isn’t in a glove. She takes it, like she used to take her mom’s before they were separated, and follows him through Mos Pelgo. He’s family. He’s cleanly, clearly freed her. She should be able to trust him.

“Where are we going?” she manages to work up the courage to ask.

His stride stutters a bit, his hand squeezing hers, but his voice is even when he speaks. “Well, I would like you to stay with me, but if you have… have any family to return to, that you know how to find…”

“I don’t know where my mom is,” she says. “She got sold when I was four.”

He squeezes her hand again, and she dares to look at his face. His eyes are squinted, angry, and focused on the horizon. She’d call it stormy, if she’d ever been to a planet of water, but she was a child of the desert. She could feel his anger, and it wasn’t hot and sharp and blinding enough to be a storm of sand.

(She felt that it could be, in the intuition that had kept her alive these past years.)

“I see,” he says. “I’m… okay, then. I’d try to find her if I could, but I don’t know how to do that.”

Shmi shrugs. “She was sent to Jabba’s. I don’t think she’s… um. She’s probably dead, now.”

He’s silent in response to that.

“How did you find me?” she asks, because her intuition says to trust this man to keep her alive, even if she thinks she may not trust his temper.

He thinks about that for a second, and then lets go of her hand for a moment to brush aside a layer of his tunic.

A lightsaber.

Her eyes dart up to his, wide and maybe a little awed. He grins, a little more carefree than before.

“Jeedai?”

“A full Jedi knight, believe it or not,” he confirms. “The Force led me to find you. I don’t think I’d have been able to do locate you without it.”

“Wizard,” she whispers, and then he pulls her into his side and out of the way of a large, too-fast-for-these-streets speeder.

He swears under his breath in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“So, I’m going with you,” she says. “Um, where… where do Jedi live?”

“The Temple is on Coruscant,” he tells her. “But I’ve got business in Mandalorian space, so that’s where I’m based out of right now.”

“Okay,” she says. Mandalore… maybe that’s why he’s got armor like one of them. “I… I heard that Jedi are all called Master, so—”

“No,” Anakin snaps, turning around and getting to one knee in front of her again, hands on both her shoulders, stopping her in a fraction of a second with a look so intense that it scares her. “No, you are never to call me that. You are never going to bow your head to a master again, okay? You are free, and you are family.”

She stares at him for a long second, and then nods. She thinks her head jerks a bit too sharply, but he’s scary. He cares so much that it frightens her. He must be able to tell, because he closes his eyes and visibly forces himself to calm down.

“I was freed when I was nine,” he tells her. “By a Jedi Master. And I know… I know how uncomfortable it is to live like that, where the word means something different to you than it does to everyone else. I became a Jedi, so I learned to make it mean what it was supposed to, respect for teachers and—and elders. But you, you’re not a Jedi, you’re just a girl, and you matter, and—don’t make yourself say it. Please.”

“Okay,” she says. “Do I just… do I just call you Anakin, then?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he says, and his hands twitch on her shoulders. She thinks he wants to pull her into a hug, but is forcing himself to stop. “Or Ani, if you want, my—my mom used to call me that. Seems like something to keep for family.”

“Okay,” she says again. She can do that.

“Or, um,” he hesitates, and then barrels on. “We’ll be in Mandalore. They say ori’vod to mean older sibling. So, er, you can call me that. If you want. You don’t have to.”

She’ll have to practice. It looks like it means a lot to him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” he says, and dithers for a moment before he stands up and turns around, black robes flaring. “Come on, let’s get out of the sun.”

He leads her to just outside the city limits, where there’s a small ship waiting, enough for a half-dozen people on longer trips, maybe. She doesn’t know much about ships, but this one’s covered in scratches and pits, like it’s been in fights and come out the other side.

They open the door, and are met with wailing.

Anakin rushes past her, shouting, “Ben!”

Shmi doesn’t follow immediately, but he’s been pretty insistent that she’s family, not property. She’s allowed inside.

She finds Anakin in the main room, holding a baby and bouncing it in his arms as he hisses a demand to a boy only a few years older than Shmi herself.

“—my kids, Jango!”

“I’m here to babysit the ship, not the baby!” the teenager argues back.

Anakin scoffs and turns his attention to the baby in his arms. Shmi isn’t entirely sure, but she thinks the baby is definitely less than a year old. It quiets in his arms, tiny hands fisting in the fabric she knows is still too hot from the sun outside.

“Shmi, you can sit down,” he tells her, distracted. “I’d love to talk more but I think I need to make a bottle for Ben. I’ll be back in a few.”

She looks around, sees a bench, and sits down. She presses her hands together in her lap, keeps her eyes on the japor charm her mother left with her years ago, hanging around her wrist. She can wait. She’s patient. She’ll figure out how freedom works eventually.

“Mmmmmmbook!”

Shmi jolts in her seat as a very small body collides with her leg, blue and white and giggling. The head of that small body turns up to stare at her with massive eyes, and she sees the child’s face is orange. Togruta, she thinks, and very young.

The little one pushes a flimsi book onto Shmi’s lap and pats at it, grinning up at Shmi with tiny, pearly teeth.

“Ad’ika, she just got here,” the-teenager-that-is-probably-named-Jango sighs, dropping into the seat next to Shmi. “Let her rest.”

“Sto-wee!” the baby Togruta insists, patting at Shmi’s leg. The little one tries to climb up onto the bench, and Shmi reaches out to help after she realizes the toddler is about to slip. She receives, in thanks, a delighted grin and a montral to the ribs as the child hugs her.

“’m Soka!” the little one introduces.

“She’s one of Skywalker’s,” probably-Jango says. “He showed up with those two a few months ago in the middle of a chaak’la snowstorm.”

“No!” Soka insists, slapping her little hand on the book a few times. “No ‘ssip! Book!”

Jango lets his head fall against the metal wall behind them. “Fine. No gossip.”

Shmi looks at the little girl, and then back at the book. She’s… well, she can read. Mostly. She can read better than most slaves her age, but this is Basic, not Huttese.

She cracks it open to the first page, finds herself relieved that it really is a children’s story with small words and big letters, and starts reading it out loud. She goes slow. The story is about an eopie trying to find its way home after getting lost, asking other farm animals for help. There are plenty of pictures, and sometimes Soka pats at the book and shouts the name of an animal. It’s very cute, overall.

About two-thirds of the way through, she stumbles. It’s a word she hasn’t seen before, long and with repeating letters that she can’t quite figure out how to say. She pauses, long enough that she’s sure little Soka is confused about why she’s stopped.

“Happabore,” Jango mutters.

Shmi lifts her head, but he’s not looking at her. She looks down at the book again, mouths the letters to herself, and thinks that yes, that probably fits. She keeps reading aloud, letting little Soka tell her about her favorite animals, and when she finishes and looks up, it’s to find Anakin standing across from them.

He’s leaning against a doorframe, bottle-feeding the baby named Ben, and watching them with an expression Shmi thinks might be ‘wistful.’

“Skyguy!” Little Soka cheers, sliding off the bench so she can toddle over to the man as fast as her little legs can carry her. “Skyguy, gots a fweind!”

He smiles indulgently and lets her hug his leg. “I can see that, Snips. You guys have fun?”

“Uh-huh!” the little one tells him. She raises her hands at him. “Up!”

“Sorry, hun, no can do,” Anakin apologizes. “I’m feeding Ben, and I need both hands for that.”

She pouts, and he jerks his chin at Shmi and Jango. “Go back to the bench and you can help me feed him, okay?”

Soka races back.

“Fett, go get the ship powered up,” Anakin says as he ambles over, voice the kind of casually commanding that gives Shmi goosebumps. It’s not familiar, not the way an owner is, but it’s… it’s a voice that’s very used to having authority. “I want us out of here as soon as possible.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am the commanding officer according to Jaster,” Anakin says, and Shmi watches him raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s not much of a mission, but I am in charge until we’re back on Concord Dawn. You want me to tell him you’re playing at insubordination?”

Jango makes a face, sticking out his tongue. Anakin waits.

Jango goes to start the ship.

“Teenagers,” Anakin mutters, shaking his head. “I want to say I was never that bad, but I’d be lying.”

Soka giggles, bouncing in her seat as Anakin carefully lowers himself down next to her. “Okay, okay, settle down. He’s cranky, kiddo.”

“Wanna help,” Soka stresses, reaching for the bottle. Anakin shifts away from her, keeping it out of her reach. “Skyguy!”

“Slow down, Snips,” he chides. “Climb on my lap and we can hold him together, okay?”

Shmi fiddles with her japor snippet, but she can’t help her fascination with the dynamic presented. Anakin obviously isn’t related to Soka by blood, but he’s adopted her as his own. They haven’t said as much, but it’s obvious. He can’t stop smiling as he talks the girl through holding the bottle for her baby brother, even though it’s obvious from the outside that he’s the one actually holding it, and her, and the baby.

The ship hums to life around them. Anakin tilts his head, as if listening to something, and then goes back to the baby.

It’s another minute before Anakin says, “Okay, that’s enough. I need to burp him. Go on, scoot.”

Soka grimaces as well as a two-year-old can, and slides off of Anakin’s lap onto the bench. He stands and presses the baby up to his shoulder, patting it on the back. There’s a towel there already, something Shmi hadn’t noticed earlier.

“I’m going to go check on Jango,” he tells them. “Shmi, can you get Soka in her seat? I’ll tell you how to buckle her in, but I promised Jango he could fly us back and I want to sit up there to make sure he gets us into hyperspace without, say, exploding.”

It’s only a minute or two to get both of them sat down and buckled in, and Soka spends the entire time until lift-off telling Shmi about how much she likes eopies. This continues well until they end up in hyperspace, the jolt of it making the little one squeal in excitement, even if Shmi feels her stomach drop out. Shortly after, the boys wander back in.

“We’re good for a couple hours,” Anakin says. “Nav computer’s got it until we jump back out. Anyone want a snack?”

“Me!” Soka screeches, bouncing in her seat. “Jan-Jan, snacktime!”

Anakin’s eyebrows climb up towards his hairline. “Well, seems like you’ve got a fan, Fett.”

“Shut up,” Jango grumbles, but he does go over and pick Soka out of her child seat, setting her on his hip and going in the direction of what Shmi assumes is the galley.

“You doin’ okay?” Anakin asks, carefully taking the seat next to her. He sits Ben up on his lap, but the baby has trouble staying in that position. Anakin takes his hands, letting tiny fists curl around his thumbs, to help him stay up.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “But I am happy to be free.”

He grins at her. “Glad to hear it. It’s a lot to adjust to, I know, but… I’m happy to have you with us.”

She nods, eyes on the baby that’s swaying from side to side as Anakin moves his hands, like a very, very small speeder pilot.

“Is he, um, yours?” Shmi asks. “Or did you adopt, like Soka?”

Anakin’s smile, so full of love, drops off. He presses his lips into a thin line, and for a moment, Shmi wonders if she’s made a horrible misstep.

“What… what do you know about Jedi relationships?” Anakin asks, voice quiet.

“Nothing,” she admits, but she’s not ashamed of that. Nobody knows much about the Jedi.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to her. “Okay, so… okay. There are a couple ranks in the Order. Younglings go in the crèche, communally raised in groups, and then when they’re five or so, they get to become Initiates. A few years later, usually between ten and fourteen, they can enter an apprenticeship to a Jedi Knight or Master, and the apprentice rank is Padawan. When the apprenticeship is done, they become Knights, basically journeymen, and at some point after that, Masters. There are positions that technically rank higher, councils and heads of divisions, and there’s stuff outside the apprenticeship system, like the service corps, but that’s not super relevant. It’s complicated but we’re only focusing on the apprenticeship path for knights.”

He hesitates, and then continues. “One of the ways to become a Master in the Order is to successfully raise a Padawan to knighthood. I was never an Initiate, because I came to the Order so much later than most. I immediately became a Padawan, and my master was freshly knighted. The relationship between master and padawan is… it’s family. Some of the more orthodox of the Order don’t like to put it in those words, but it really is.

“If I ever talk about my Master, just know I’m not talking about any of the owners I had before I was freed. I’m talking about the man who raised me, the man I saw as a father. He may not have seen me as a son, more a brother, but he was only sixteen years older than me, and… anyway. Jedi lineages are family. Your Master is a parent, or an older sibling, and your Padawan is a child to bring up as your own,” he finishes this off with the kind of deep, heavy breath that she thinks precedes grief. She can’t tell.

“My master is… well, he’s not in a position to teach anyone anything anymore. Ben here is all I have left of him.”

Oh.

Anakin doesn’t look at her, just stares down at the baby that’s gotten cranky again, and rearranges Ben to lie sideways in his arms. He smiles down as the baby burbles up at him, and tickles at the baby’s stomach. Ben grabs at Anakin’s fingers and kicks at the air, laughing in the manner of all children that small.

The man hums, and Shmi is more shocked than she should be to hear one of the lullabies she’s heard in slave quarters all her life.

“He’s your son now,” she says, more firmly than she feels. “He is yours to raise and care for, and I can tell you love him as much as any parent.”

Anakin lifts his head, staring at her like he can’t quite believe she’s there, and tears collect at the edges of his eyes.

“Thank you, Shmi Skywalker,” he says, and she feels like there’s more weight in those words than there should be. He licks his lips, eyes darting away for a second, and then asks, “do you want to hold him?”

She steels herself, and nods.

This is her family now.

Hers.

#Shmi Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Jango Fett #star wars #time travel #de aging #parenting #childcare #baby characters #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #outside pov

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Could you talk more about your gumbo jar jar au or the frog one? 🐸

hm on close review the frog promise draft is a now redundant drabble from this au. Here it is in its entirety:

“I will never join you,” Luke said with a sneer of disgust.

Palpatine, as well as the nearby politicians, Jedi masters, and reporters were taken aback.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, Master Jedi,” the Senator said incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me that you consider yourself separate from the Republic? I know the Jedi Council had disavowed recognizing you but I never could have imagined...” he trailed off, leaving the crowd to murmur in alarm.

“I mean I will never join the Sith,” the rogue master replied calmly. “I imagine you’re responsible for the traces of the dark side I felt amongst the trade federation leaders.”

“The Sith...I see.” Palpatine took a step back, deliberately reassuring tone and alarmed expression clearly indicated that he suspected the man before him of insanity. “It’s been a very long day and you clearly intended to do good by my humble home world. Perhaps your fellow Jedi can take you to the healers so you can-”

“Why are you working alongside a Sith Lord?” Luke cut off the Senator and addressed Grandmaster Yoda directly.

“A Sith Lord, you say?” Master Yoda replied. “A most serious allegation, this is.”

Basically, Luke derails the Naboo Crisis by absolutely annihilating the trade federation army, only realizing after the fact when and where he is. This means that Padme turns right around from Tatooine and never voices her vote of no-confidence. Now, Palpatine probably had contingency plans in place, but the public accusation by a Jedi of being responsible for the crisis in the first place, despite absolutely no evidence, hurts his image enough that he’s not going to win a vote, because people will think it’s a power grab.

And it’s funny cause it’s true but Luke only barely knows that! He’s just accusing Palpatine of being behind the first evil thing he sees and he fuckin happens to be right!!!

Anyway Luke doesn’t focus on Palpatine; there are like 10,000 other Jedi around. He commits himself first and foremost to completing his training with Master Yoda because sometime Yoda just dies and fades into thin air so, you know! He’s not going to procrastinate on that again!

He goes before the council and humbly asks to be taken on Yoda’s student (this is right before Qui-Gon can ask about Anakin- literally, Anakin and Qui-Gon are in the waiting room). He gives several extremely vague banthashit explanations of who he is ‘I’m a follower of the Force,’ where he comes from ‘the Force sent me,’ and why they should train him when he’s way too old ‘the Force willed it.’ Yoda is somewhat impressed because those are some real unhelpfully wise answers and- here’s the kicker- Luke actually believes them!

He is really committed to being a Jedi! Is 110% all about being a luminous being! This is several years after return of the Jedi and Luke has pretty much just been hanging out in force temples meditating with ghosts so he has quintessential Jedi vibes, he just knows jackshit about anything!

What really clinches it for Yoda is the fact that his robe pocket starts squirming and he pulls out a live Nabooian Salt Frog. And hands it to Yoda like, “These are one of your favorites right? :) I saw it and I thought of you :)”

Now Yoda- let’s step back a second. Yoda is old. Yoda, in his youth, was a bit more feral. He’s a top level predator and the order has always celebrated diversity and being true to your origins! He’s hunted with Tortugans on Shili! He’s unhinged his jaw with Besalisks on Ojom!

But as the Republic’s boundaries caved in on themselves, he was more and more put into contact with Core senators who tend to be unnerved by more, ah, carnivorous tendencies. And the more he was put into high level positions by virtue of being really frickin old, the more restrained he became in his public behavior.

Decades passed and younglings who only ever knew his more ‘harmless-prank’ feral tendencies were increasingly shocked and scared to see him occasionally unhinge his jaw to eat a scrocodile whole. Some of the prey-origin younglings from that field trip actually avoided him for the rest of the their lives.

So. Yoda is still a carnivore- but- in private. With his padawans and his closest peers. But his closest peers age and die and his padawans get younger and smaller as the decades pass. He took on two herbivorous padawans in a row and as a result restrained himself from openly hunting with another soul for around for 50 years.

And then there’s Dooku. ‘Ah a human,’ he thinks. ‘They hunt sometimes. Well. They’re omnivores at least.’

And Dooku is- and I’m not saying this to shame Dooku- but he’s prissy. He likes...neatness. He’s not afraid of violence but force forbid it’s untidy. So when Yoda, excited to get his ambush predation on, takes 14 year old Dooku who’s barely ever left the sterile confines of Coruscant on a trip to a swamp world- yeaaahh it doesn’t go well. Dooku- he doesn’t mean to, honestly. How would he even know that Yoda might be sensitive about things? He’s Yoda.

But Dooku sobbing openly and puking a little in a bush and running away from Yoda because his Master is terrifying and gross. It... kind of puts the nail in the coffin for Yoda being open about that side of himself. He doesn’t really have it in him to try again. People’s view of him is too fixed, they can’t handle him also being a flesh creature so he focuses on the luminous side of him which is and always was, genuinely, more important than him.

And that’s been the last 100 years or so. The thrill of a live kill is just a little piece of himself that he meditates away and that’s ok. He has the force. He has the order. He’s old anyway, a real hunt would probably hurt his joints.

And then in comes Luke, radiating Light and earnestness and Jedi serenity while also holding out a very tasty looking live frog. And Yoda realizes Dooku’s not around, he’s surrounded by a council he trusts and respects and likes, none of whom are 14 year olds, all of whom have seen the galaxy and seen worse. He is almost seizing the moment but there’s a little part of him that shriveled up when Dooku cried that’s having a hard time accepting this.

“Want it for yourself, you do not?” Yoda cackles, playing off the offer.

Luke smiles sheepishly and pulls out another live frog. “I was saving it for later. Forgive me Master, your senses are keen as ever I see.”

And Yoda...it’s not about the bribe, really, so much as the symbolism, and it’s not about the flattery either, but darn is the kid really pulling out the stops to make himself likable. And he is a kid, to Yoda anyway. Everyone is these days. What does he care about numbers when there’s a boy smiling like his third padawan, an adorable Rodian who took great delight in their more amphibious and wild missions?

Yoda snatches one of the frogs and slowly raises it in a parody of a toast. Luke does the same. The rest of the council quietly watches in various shades of bewilderment and bemusement.

They’re not actually going to eat that right? Mace thinks. Ugh I hate frogs the skin is so slimy. Shaak Ti thinks. I cannot believe they’re not even offering me one. Yaddle thinks.

And Yoda bites the head off the frog in a quick snap of his jaws, the rest following rapidly. Luke does the same- a slight assist from the force helping his less specialized mandible tear through skin and bone in a well practiced move. He chews slower, but finishes the frog soon enough, the rest of the council looking on with deep uncertainty and a tiny bit of hunger, but no actual fear. They’re Jedi Masters; they’ve eaten everywhere, it’s just a little weird for a human to be eating a live animal and Yoda as far as anyone knew only ate stew and also they were in the middle of a council meeting.

Yoda belches and Luke smiles genially.

“Take you on as my padawan learner, I will. Much to learn you have, much to teach you, I do.”

Luke beams. The council looks on in shock.

“Master Yoda,” Mace Windu says hesitantly, “He’s clearly in his late 20s, at the earliest. If this is about the... frog thing-”

“Was a pleasant surprise, the frog. The reason for my decision, it is not. Had some training already, he has. Know each other before this day, we do. Taking over for a Master passed into the force, I am merely. Our custom, this is.”

Luke bows lowly and an initiate is summoned to escort him to the quartermasters and then the long-empty padawan suite next to Yoda’s chambers.

Qui-Gon and Anakin are brought in and. Well. It’s a little hard for them to simply reject the boy after Yoda just pulled that stunt. He’s sent to the initiates dorm, eventually. Mace Windu has a headache from the shatterpoints blinking in and out of existence. Shaak Ti is delighted to discuss a hunting trip with Master Yoda and his new padawan learner Luke Svader.

The force dances.

#Anonymous #ask #300 celebration #star wars #my au #star wars au #frog promise au #yoda #star wars au no 29 #nevertheless meta #luke skywalker eats frogs

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tennessoui · 3 years

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You know one of my favorite Star Wars fic tropes? Evil, feral Anakin being horribly mistreated his whole life and hurt, and then being comforted and nursed back to health by Obi-Wan. And instantly imprinting on him, like, in a "I will kill anyone for you" way. Could be any Obi-Wan! Nice Obi-Wan for that sweet sweet hurt/comfort and kisses and turning Anakin from his murderous ways with the power of kindness! Evil Obi-Wan for sweet double trouble action and delicious obsession with each other!!

this is also one of my favorite star wars tropes!!! i love a needlessly protective and feral Anakin who distrusts everyone except for Obi-Wan.

unfortunately. um. this went a little sideways. and there is no being nursed back to health. but there's some delicious obsession and protectiveness and also future mutual obsession so i'm counting the prompt fill as like 3.5 out of 5 stars for following the prompt, which is. let's be honest, higher than most of my prompt fills. this is a bit dark and contains references to mind tricks, but there is no sex or kissing that could be construed as dub con. just like. dub con emotions i guess

(2.2k)

Quinlan has that look in his eyes, as if he’s about to say something that he knows Obi-Wan won’t like.

Carefully, Obi-Wan puts down his cup of tea and laces together his fingers in his lap. He can already feel a seed of anger blooming inside of him. Since Anakin has re-entered his life and the Temple, he’s found that this deep, swirling rage is harder to give to the Force. And easier to feel at a moment’s notice.

Like almost all the differences in his life now, this can be put on Anakin through no fault of the boy’s own.

After all, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, it is much easier to feel this sort of fury at the galaxy’s injustices when living with someone who has suffered most all of the most grievous kinds.

“Just say it, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan says.

Vos clears his throat. “Where is...your charge?”

“My charge,” he repeats, unimpressed. “You know his name.”

“I know both of his names,” Quinlan fires back. “Does he prefer Anakin or Vader?”

The anger inside of him grows larger at the mention of Vader. As if Anakin would ever prefer the name Sidious gave to him. As if he had chosen it for himself.

As if the Jedi had played no part in the birth of Vader.

“Anakin is asleep,” is all Obi-Wan says.

Quinlan makes a show of peering down the hallway of Obi-Wan’s quarters to the two closed bedroom doors. “In whose bed?”

His hands tighten into fists beneath the table. “That is a bold accusation to make.”

“Why?” his old friend’s posture is forcibly casual, slumped in his seat and hand loosely wrapped around his cup. Obi-Wan wonders if this is how he looks when he’s undercover on missions. The thought settles heavily into his stomach and makes him sit up straighter. If this is a mission to Quinlan Vos, then what is his objective? What does he want with Obi-Wan?

With Anakin?

“The boy’s legally allowed to spread his legs for anyone he wants, Obi-Wan. He's nineteen and everything.”

Obi-Wan can feel his teeth grind together. The fury in his chest is building at an alarmingly fast rate. The thought of anyone touching Anakin like that when the boy’s so obviously traumatized and in need of a tender hand--if he were a lesser Jedi, he’d snarl at Vos to leave.

“Any consent Anakin offers anyone would be dubious at best,” he snaps. “He is nineteen, but he has spent the past ten years of his life being tortured and enslaved by Darth Sidious.”

Quinlan narrows his eyes and looks over Obi-Wan’s face. “That’s not your fault,” he finally says quietly, leaning forward as if to grip his arm before he thinks better of it. “Obi-Wan, listen to me. What happened to Anakin is tragic. Awful. Despicable. But it is not your fault.”

Obi-Wan looks away, his jaw clenched tightly before he forces himself to relax. “I only blame myself for not verifying what I was told.”

“Do you blame the Jedi Council then? For sending the boy away?”

“My master begged me to train the boy, Vos. And while I was in the Halls of Healing, they sent him back to Tatooine. And no one ever checked to make sure he got there. Sidious grabbed him because we--because they allowed him to. And then spent ten years torturing and breaking down a child right under our very noses! Who would you blame, Vos?”

“Sidious,” the other man answers easily. “The Council had no way of knowing that Sidious even knew about the boy, that he was in any danger at all--”

“He was nine!” Obi-Wan roars, slamming a fist on the table, unable to swallow the dark, heavy fury anymore. “He was a child. A slave! They were going to send him back there!”

“To his mother!”

“To his chains,” Obi-Wan corrects fiercely.

Vos purses his lips and crosses his arms. “He is not a child anymore, Obi-Wan. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. It’s worrying to me that you can’t see it. Or don’t want to see it.”

Obi-Wan wants to scoff. Anakin Skywalker is not dangerous. The boy gets night terrors, begs to be let into Obi-Wan’s bed, and can only sleep if he’s being cuddled up against his chest. He holds his blasted hand in public because he’s terrified of being separated from Obi-Wan again. He’s refused to even touch his lightsaber since the first night Obi-Wan stumbled upon him, bleeding in one of the lower levels of Coruscant. There are some days he won’t even let Obi-Wan touch him to hold him, and he shakes apart in the shadowy corner of his closet, reliving traumas Obi-Wan can’t help him with.

Dangerous. Dangerous.

“No, Obi-Wan, come on. You have to see. The boy’s turning you against the Jedi, against the Council!” “He doesn't need to," Obi-Wan says coldly. "The Jedi seem to be doing a fine job of that themselve."

“That's what I'm talking about!” Vos exclaims, waving an incensed hand. “The Obi-Wan Kenobi I knew would never say that! He would never think a bad thing about the Order, let alone say it! Let alone threaten to leave in the middle of a war if the Council didn’t grant him permission to keep the boy in his rooms! People talk, Obi-Wan! They’re not being kind!”

A thought bubbles up in Obi-Wan’s mind, vicious and sharp. Obi-Wan should not expect kindness from the Jedi. Not about Anakin. Everything they’ve ever done to and said about the boy proves that. Obi-Wan would have to abandon Anakin again to ensure the Council’s kindness and trust in him.

Obi-Wan would rather die than abandon the boy now when he needs him so obviously. He’d rather Fall than turn his back on Anakin, even if that’s what it took to stay in the Order.

“I think you should leave, Vos,” Obi-Wan murmurs quietly. “I think there is little left to say.”

His old friend stares at him from across the table in shock before he stands up without another word. At the door to his quarters, he freezes but doesn’t turn around. “You are attached, Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council will not stand for it. They will not allow it to continue.”

There’s something off with his voice, but Obi-Wan is too concerned with what he’s said to focus on anything else. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply, springing to his feet.

But Vos just shakes his head and leaves.

Obi-Wan collapses back into his seat as the door slides shut behind the man, his head buzzing with thoughts. That had sounded like a warning. Would the Council be so bold, so cruel, as to separate Obi-Wan and Anakin forcefully?

Yes, the thought flashes across his mind, followed by a swell of fury.

And then there’s a sleepy little questioning tug on the bond stretching between him and Anakin. His charge must have just woken up and found Obi-Wan still missing.

Obi-Wan tugs back, helpless against the urge to comfort Anakin. The bond explodes in a tidal wave of joy, the way it always does when Obi-Wan uses their illicit connection to communicate. He hadn’t in the early days, too afraid of the Council and the Code to do something so forbidden.

Now he cannot seem to muster enough regard for the Jedi to care. It is nice to feel Anakin in his mind, where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged.

---

In the bedroom that Obi-Wan keeps on insisting is not theirs, Vader allows his eyes to open as he slips out of meditation. He had been too forceful there at the end with Vos, fed him the exact words he needed him to tell his new master.

That sort of mind trick is too sloppy and easily discovered. It is much harder to trace emotional manipulation, especially over time. He’s been doing it for months now, the Jedis’ mental shields no match for his raw power trained to be sharp as a vibroblade.

It’s all just been a matter of slowly strengthening the other Jedis’ already existing mistrust and doubt about him, all the while crying to Obi-Wan about his past and his fears. It served to highlight the Jedi hypocrisy to his new master, and when he felt that first seed of anger grow in Kenobi’s mind, he encouraged it to grow faster.

The downside, of course, has been that Obi-Wan sees him as a scared child in need of protection. Vader is working on that too though, lengthening the touches they share and letting his shields fall at inopportune moments, like when he’s playing with himself in the fresher, so his master understands that Vader is capable of bringing him pleasure of all kinds.

It’s very important Obi-Wan understands that he can get everything he needs from Vader alone. There will be no one else, for either of them.

Sidious will die soon. The Jedi will die sooner. Vader and Obi-Wan can take their proper place, as Emperors of the Galaxy.

After Obi-Wan falls, of course.

It won’t take long now though.

Joy at the thought of one day looking into Obi-Wan’s golden eyes pushes Vader out of their bed and into the common area. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand a few times, and then it’s Anakin who’s crossing the space separating him from his master so he can settle in Obi-Wan’s lap.

Obi-Wan accepts him into his arms immediately, and Anakin has to fight the urge to smile in victory as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable, only stopping when he’s straddling his master, sitting directly over his cock.

He wraps his arms around his master’s neck and buries his face in the juncture between his shoulder and throat.

Feeling daring, he licks slightly at the skin there, just to feel the way Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on his hips. “Missed you,” he murmurs, inhaling greedily.

Nothing in the entire universe smells as good as Obi-Wan, holds Anakin as gently as Obi-Wan, cares as much about him as Obi-Wan does.

He’d kill everyone in the galaxy for his master, if it was asked of him. He wouldn’t even think twice about it. And one day, soon, his master will feel the same.

Especially when his pesky Order has been dealt with, an execution order stamped with Sidious’ name. The only good thing his old master has ever given him.

The Jedi will die, Anakin will be blameless, and Obi-Wan will be safe from harm’s way. That’s why he’d had to push Vos so messily at the end there. Obi-Wan needs to be safe before the planned Order #66, and there’s no telling what Sidious will do now that Anakin has escaped.

“I heard voices,” he prompts, when Obi-Wan seems content to just sit silently and trace shapes on the bare skin of his back.

Obi-Wan hums. “Yes,” he admits. “An...old friend came to visit.”

Anakin bites gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s throat and pulls back enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know if his eyes are blue or gold right now, but either way Obi-Wan seems entranced by them. Riveted.

He pouts. “Your old friends never stay around long enough to meet me,” he says with a tremble in his voice, as if he cares about Obi-Wan’s old friends.

Obi-Wan reaches a hand up and thumbs over Anakin’s bottom lip. Anakin holds his breath. It’ll ruin everything if he sucks at it right now, despite how much he’s craving to map the whorls with his tongue.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathes out, and Anakin changes his grasp so he’s now holding tightly to the front of his robes. “I must tell you something you may not want to hear.”

The Dark inside of him roars and snarls at this statement. If Obi-Wan has decided to make him leave, Anakin will not go quietly. Anakin will kill the entire Jedi Order himself, until this glowing angel--so warm, so bright in the Force--only has him.

“The Council will try to take you away from me,” his master murmurs.

Anakin makes his eyes go round and wet. It’s not even that much of an act: he just has to think of Obi-Wan agreeing with his stupid Council, and suddenly he’s appropriately tearful and afraid.

“No, no, Anakin, don’t cry,” his master croons, grasping the back of his neck and touching their foreheads together. Then, in a firmer tone, he says the words Anakin has been waiting to here for months. “I will not let that happen. We must leave the Order. I’m sorry, dear one. I can only imagine how much you wanted this place to be your home.”

Anakin has to rip his head out of Obi-Wan’s grasp and bury it in his neck so his dear master can’t see his smirk. Oh, Obi-Wan. The man may never understand that the only thing Anakin wants is already holding him tightly against his chest.

But Anakin will remind him. Anakin will remind him for the rest of his life.

“When do we leave?” Anakin whimpers, wondering if he’s overdoing it slightly, but Obi-Wan’s grip on his back only tightens.

When Obi-Wan speaks, his voice doesn’t waver at all. There’s not a single shred of indecision in his force signature either. “Tonight,” his master says, brushing a barely there kiss against the crown of his head. “We leave tonight.”

Vader smiles in bliss and burrows impossibly further into his master’s arms, nipping at his master’s skin again, just because he knows he will not be pushed away. This is the safest place in the galaxy, and now it will be his forever.

Victory tastes sweet. Obi-Wan’s skin tastes even sweeter.

#asks #prompt fill #cw: dubious consent #due to lying and mind/emotional manipulation #ill have you know i pulled up a gif set of anakin in aotc and stared at it while writing this #obikin #vaderwan #anakin latches onto obi-wan emotionally and wont let anything happen to him #but he also does everything in his power to make sure he wont be left behind again

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Text

Nobody Listens to Kix

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Case 01053: Hardcase (Yet Again)

Kix kept a clean medbay. Not only was it a necessity, but he took pride in cleanliness. He tucked starched sheets under the last medbay mattress and took a step back to admire his handiwork.

The beds were neatly made, sheets and blankets folded to crisp GAR standard. Every medical tool had been sanitized and tucked back into its proper place. Kix had even found time to organize his medical cabinet and desk - as long as one ignored the stack of uncompleted paperwork. The floor shone so uniformly that it almost served as a mirror to reflect the perfection of the rest of the empty medbay.

"Hey, Kix!"

Kix's shoulders immediately shot toward his ears as the peace of the medbay was shattered by a too-familiar voice, and the medic immediately started making his way toward his desk by the entrance.

"Hardcase," he groaned on the way, his view of the hapless trooper blocked by one of the privacy curtains separating the beds from the medbay entrance. "If you come in here any more often, I'm going to start charging you rent for a bed."

Hardcase laughed, but the sound ended in a pained wheeze. Kix stepped around a privacy curtain to find that the trooper was being held up by Appo and Fledge, both of whom were trying to support as much of Hardcase's weight as possible. Kix would have to make a full exam to be sure, but it looked like Hardcase was suffering from what was at very least a severely sprained joint in one leg.

"Put him on the bed, men," Kix ordered, motioning toward the first bed in the neat row.

As they did as Kix had said, Hardcase's eyes closed, his tattooed face tense. When Appo accidentally jostled the leg that seemed to be damaged, Hardcase let out a curse so loud that his voice broke before he could finish it.

With a quick scan, Kix found that Hardcase had a broken leg, a sprained elbow, and no fewer than four fractured ribs. Worse of all, one of the fractures had released miniscule bone shards that were perilously close to reaching one of Hardcase's lungs. If a clone's lungs were injured, there was no attempt at healing them. They were marked for immediate transport to Kamino for reconditioning.

After stifling the urge to throw the datapad that showed the results of the scan, Kix snapped, "What the kriff were you doing that caused this many injuries? Of all the shabiir, or'dinii, jare'la things you've done, nothing's ever been this bad-"

"It wasn't his fault!" Fledge argued, flinching back slightly at Kix's glare. "It wasn't, though!"

Kix turned to Appo for confirmation and the trooper nodded. "We were in the gym and Hardcase was working out on the overhead chest press machine when the cords snapped. All the weights tipped the machine over and they fell out onto him."

Kix shook his head and rested a hand on Hardcase's shoulder. "Sorry, vod. I'll get you something for the pain before we do anything else."

Hardcase nodded, but didn't say anything. Kix couldn't blame him. Judging from the panting he was doing, he was minutes from vomiting or passing out entirely. Though he was grateful, Kix honestly couldn't believe the trooper had avoided doing either so far.

Considering the pain level he was working with, Kix opted to inject pain meds rather than wait for pills to dissolve and enter the trooper's bloodstream naturally. When Hardcase's breathing had slowed, he relaxed into the bed, eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.

"Let go, vod," Kix encouraged softly. "I'll take care of everything."

Hardcase nodded again and slipped into something between sleep and unconsciousness.

"What are you going to do?" Fledge asked.

Kix's answer - when it came - was blunt and grim. "There isn't much I can do for him. I'll try using one of the onboard medical droids, but Hardcase might need to visit a hospital on Coruscant."

Appo paled. "Will the Republic pay for him to be treated, or will they just send him back to Kamino?"

"It depends on how much he can heal in that time," Kix answered with a helpless shrug. As the two left the medbay, he could see that they weren't happy with his answer, but Kix was equally unhappy. There was a good reason he didn't use the medical droids that were intended to staff the medbay. Not only did the men respond better to treatment by an organic, but the droids also had a 55% chance of correctly diagnosing and treating a problem. It didn't inspire confidence in anyone, least of all Kix.

He went to the closet that stored the droids and, after the first medical droid had powered up, said, "There's a patient with a broken leg and a sprained elbow. I need you to set the leg and put a wrap on the elbow."

The droid nodded at him and made its slow, plodding way over to the unconscious Hardcase. Kix watched it for a moment, wondering idly why anyone had bothered making a medical droid look so much like an organic when it obviously struggled to move around.

However, he had bigger problems. Kix could loosely bind Hardcase's ribs to help them heal, but the shards were the biggest concern. Even if they didn't continue toward his lungs, they could pose a risk to his heart. Kix was no surgeon and, even if he was, there was danger in performing a surgery on a Republic ship in the middle of the Outer Rim. The 501st was traveling with General Unduli, Commander Offee, and several companies of the 41st Elite Corps, but that didn't make them safe from threats.

Abruptly, Kix had an idea. He left the medical droid treating Hardcase's leg and made his way to Commander Tano's cabin. She opened the door at his knock and stared up at him curiously. "Kix?"

Kix saluted. "Commander Tano. We have a situation in the medbay. Do you know where Commander Offee is?"

"I'm here, trooper," Commander Offee said, stepping up behind Commander Tano.

"What's going on?" Ahsoka asked, retrieving her lightsabers and fastening them to the belts crossed at her hips.

"Medical situation, sir," Kix told her, turning to Commander Offee. "I've seen you Force-heal. Can you do it without supervision?"

"It- it depends on the injury, I think," Commander Offee said slowly.

"I have a trooper with broken ribs and bone chips near one of his lungs," Kix reported. "Could you do anything about that?"

The young Mirialan commander paled to a sickly-looking jade. "Moving solid objects is a challenge. Normally, Force-healing is a gentle internal nudge to speed and guide the body's natural healing processes. Moving bone chips would be dangerous, if not impossible."

Kix pondered that. "Could you build up the cells of the lung to keep it from being penetrated by the shards?"

Commander Offee shook her head slowly. "It would stop the shards from piercing his lung, but it would also put undue stress on it. He would likely find it difficult to breathe and, depending on the severity of the build-up, could cause his body to react in unexpected ways."

There was another thoughtful pause in the conversation until she offered, "Perhaps I could assist while you perform surgery?"

"That's a negative, Commander," Kix refused flatly. "Surgery is too dangerous until we get to the Inner Rim. By then, the Republic may have decided that it's more cost-efficient to replace him."

"Kix!" Commander Tano reprimanded sharply.

Kix shrugged at her. "It's the truth, Commander. The GAR won't put too much money into clone health; we've seen that time and time again."

From Commander Tano's frown, she accepted his explanation but not the practice behind it. "Why don't you just heal the tissue behind the shards and let his body push them back toward his ribs? Then you could fuse them back in and heal his ribs at the same time."

Commander Offee and Kix stared at her in shock until Commander Tano grew visibly uncomfortable. "What?"

"Commander," Kix said slowly, "I could kiss you right now."

"Excuse me?"

Kix turned and saluted in one motion. It had been a good reflex since Captain Rex was walking down the hall toward them, his expression dark.

"Nothing, sir," Kix answered quickly.

"Hey, Rex," Commander Tano greeted cheerfully.

"Commanders, your generals need you on the bridge," Rex told them.

Both Jedi nodded and Commander Tano drew Rex away while Commander Offee murmured, "I'll report to the medbay as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Commander," Kix said fervently.

Rex stayed behind while the young commanders made their way to the bridge. "Trooper, do you have inappropriate feelings for Commander Offee?"

"No, sir," Kix said simply, fighting back a grin.

Rex's face grew, if possible, even more foreboding. "Commander Tano, then?"

This time, Kix chuckled aloud. Ignoring that it was a terrible idea to fall for a Jedi, the entire 501st would cheerfully de-spine the first brother to get inappropriate with Ahsoka. She could take care of herself, but the 501st had seen what General Secura and her men had to put up with and had sworn that no one would speak that way about their commander, not while any of them were around.

Realizing that Rex was still waiting for an answer, Kix said, "No, sir."

Rex relaxed minutely. "I'll be on the bridge, then. How is Hardcase?"

The weight of responsibility crashed back down on the medic's shoulders. "He's out for right now. We'll have to see how well he heals before we get to the Inner Rim."

Rex clapped a hand on Kix's shoulder and left for the bridge.

When Kix got back to the medbay, Hardcase was just beginning to stir.

"Kix?" he asked softly.

Kix was by the bedside immediately. "I'm here, vod."

"Are they gonna send me back to Kamino?"

"No," Kix growled, knowing that the ferocity in his voice was too intense for the situation, but unable to help himself. "We'll find a way to fix everything, Hardcase. I promise."

"Good," Hardcase said with satisfaction, closing his eyes again like he didn't have a care in the world. "I want to die in battle."

Kix laughed dryly. "With your grasp of strategy? I'm sure you will."

With a weak, faux-wounded smirk, Hardcase fell asleep once more. Kix stayed until Commander Offee appeared, Commander Tano in tow.

He gave Hardcase a mild sedative so he wouldn't move too much during the efforts to heal his ribs. It was a slow process, one that left Kix feeling frustrated and helpless as Commander Offee strained and sweated to heal the trooper in ways Kix never could.

All of those ugly feelings disappeared when she stepped away and shot him a weary smile. "His ribs are intact. I helped repair some of the minor fractures in his leg and started the recovery in his elbow. I would like to do more, but I must rest first."

"His ribs are completely healed?" Kix checked, and Commander Offee nodded. "Thank you, sir. I can't tell you how much this means to me. To all of us."

"It was a pleasure to be of assistance," she replied gracefully.

She and Commander Tano left the medbay as Kix offered his thanks once more. He was alone with a sleeping Hardcase and a veritable heap of paperwork, but Kix couldn't bring himself to do anything more than sit by Hardcase's bedside, filled with gratitude toward the Jedi.

---

A/N - if you want to believe this comes after Umbara and Hardcase is still alive, feel free. If you want to believe that Kix mis-numbered his files and Umbara is still exactly as it was in canon, feel free. Whatever works best for you!

#Nobody Listens to Kix #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper kix #clone trooper hardcase #commander barriss offee #commander ahsoka tano #captain rex #clone trooper appo #clone troopers deserve better #more to come

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lilhawkeye3 · 3 years

Text

Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

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Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

#find your way back home #commander wolffe x riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #post order 66 #fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #snowwolf

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sunnymiles · 3 years

Text

angstpril day 29

hello! very excited about this one, it was one of the first i wrote. do i know why it came into my brain? nope LMAO but here we are - also if anyone remembers me talking about a decapitation fic, this is it, we have arrived

i thought i would be able to do more angstpril but life has really gotten in the way so this will be my last one probably and i'll save the drafts i have for something later :)

i did not post to ao3 because i definitely think i am going to expand this one in the future!!!

also please laugh at this outline thing i wrote before starting- “Sitsoka is now Yam Dooky’s apprentice bc reasons”

prompt: going dark

[summary: Sith!Ahsoka has a familiar senator to assassinate, and an old master to avoid]

tw: major character death and decapitation

The job should be easy.

Padme was normally very visible at these events. Her idealism and love for the downtrodden always pulled her further into the spotlight. An admirable trait, but not a smart one.

The Naboo squadron of guards she kept would be virtually useless against Ahsoka’s abilities. They kept up the façade of protection, but they were no match for someone well-trained in the force.

It was perfect.

Ahsoka could just show up, and her lightsaber would make quick work of the senator.

Plans were made to be altered. A saying from her former master, but one she took to heart.

If she had to be seen, it wouldn’t foil the mission. This would be her public debut, and as long as no one looked too closely at her eyes, she could play the part of the naïve padawan fairly well.

She’d had years of practice.

No. Anak- Skywalker would be the only issue.

Where Padme went, he followed like a lovestruck idiot. Ahsoka would have the element of surprise, but her former master was stronger than her, both in the force and physically.

Her tongue ran thoughtfully over the newly sharpened canines in her mouth. Perhaps, she’d get to try them out. It’d been too long since she had gotten to properly hunt.

The holocron on her hip buzzed urgently. The gloom of the alleyway was pervasive, but she knew she wouldn’t be seen here.

It didn’t stop the chill from crawling up her back.

Just the pre-mission nerves kicking in.

Dooku’s glowering face rose to meet her as she answered the comm, and Ahsoka decided she had preferred the silence of the haunting passageway.

“What a pleasant surprise, Master.”

“Don’t be coy.”

He never let her have any fun.

“Are you in position?”

“Everything should go smoothly.”

“For your sake, you had better hope that’s true.”

“Always so positive.” She grumbled under her breath.

For an old man, he had stellar hearing, and the sharp look he gave her made her spine straighten infinitesimally.

He ended the call with a familiar glare.

She had everything under control. This would be successful, she’d make sure of it. A chance to finally prove herself.

She didn’t need the Jedi, or Anakin, or even Dooku. No, Ahsoka Tano had only herself to rely on, and she’d never been let down.

Her steps from the alley were quick and measured. Silent on the street, as she swiftly exited the shadier parts of Coruscant. The small smile painted on her face gave her an approachable guise. No one would expect a thing, until it was too late.

Bright lights gleamed in the dark of night, luring her closer to destiny. A winning smile and a wave of her hand, and she was in.

The venue was richly decorated and full of sycophants. Gaudy gold pieces littered the walls, staining them with their elaborate decadence.

So garish.

Padme’s touch was visible in the lavish floral centerpieces, a staple of Naboo. Yet, there was no sign of the full skirts, and dazzling smile Ahsoka needed.

She prowled the top level, ignoring any attempt at conversation, and tried to find her prey.

Down on the first floor near the doorway.

A familiar senator accompanied by the cause of Ahsoka’s eternal rage.

Senator Amidala laughed at one of Skywalker’s jokes, exuding pure happiness.

Ahsoka couldn’t look at them.

Abandoning her and then moving on as if she’d never mattered-

She couldn’t let her anger undermine the mission, no matter how justified it was. She scanned for someone suitable, there.

She grabbed hold of the Rodian’s feeble mind, seeking in like inky tar, and urged him to yell “Fire!”

As she’d expected, the crowd swarmed for the exit. Ahsoka vaulted over the railing in the chaos, ignoring the screams and hysteria.

Oh this was too easy.

Making sure she couldn’t be seen from behind, she crept toward the senator and her entourage.

There wouldn’t be a way to avoid him.

“Anakin!”

“Snips?” His head whipped around and his eyes were round with disbelief.

“Hey Skyguy.” She kept her tone playful, her head tilted downward to hide the edge of her smirk.

“Yo-You’re alive?”

She knew the grin on her lips was positively feral.

"Oh, I'm alive."

"Ahsoka, I-I'm so glad." His arms reached toward her, and her step back was instinctual.

"We'll have to save the pleasantries, master." She swallowed her anger, letting it fuel the growing pit in her stomach.

"I'm here for... something else." Her eyes darted to Padme.

"Wha"-

Showtime.

She vaulted over the table separating her and Padme. The feeble guards around the senator could’ve been for show with how quickly she dismantled them. Her lightsaber cut through the duo with ease and Ahsoka felt the familiar thrill run through her.

Skywalker was still too shocked to be of much threat, but she knew he wouldn’t be down for long. Not when it came to Padme.

Her Togrutan roots sung as she finally captured her prey. Ahsoka bared her teeth in victory, daring anyone, daring him, to come closer.

“What are you doing? This isn’t you!” Oh, he wanted to play this game.

“Yes, yes, where has your snippy little padawan gone?”

She could hear the anger in her voice, but she was too far gone to stop.

“Oh I remember, you left her on Mortis!”

His eyes widened with something akin to hurt. But, Ahsoka wasn’t going to believe his little display.

“We-We thought you were dead, Ahsoka I would never”-

“I don’t care.”

The red of her lightsaber hovered threateningly against Padme’s neck.

Ahsoka leaned down to purr directly in Padme’s ear.

“I did always like you better."

A small quiver ran through Padme, but that was the only sign of her fear. How impressive.

“Ahsoka, let go of her!”

Her laugh was the only sound in the evacuated ballroom.

“Just stop, and we can talk about this!” His tone was growing more manic, and she relished in it.

Finally, to be the one in control.

She huffed a breath on the senator’s neck and watched her tense. “I hope you can understand, it really is nothing personal.” A murmur just for her.

Her blade sliced across Padme’s neck, forever silencing the idealistic Senator. The severed head dropped to the floor with a sickening finality.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

“Padme!”

Skywalker was dangerous on a normal day, but with the weight of what she’d just done, his wrath would be terrible. Not survivable.

She used the Force to jump away from the carnage of bodies. Distancing herself from the destruction in her wake.

“No, no, no”-

He was cradling Padme’s corpse to his chest, rocking slowly. Seemingly unable to accept the fixedness of her demise.

Pathetic.

But, this was her chance. She moved silently, careful to keep him in her sights, as she approached the exit.

Another job well done. The thought filled her with immense satisfaction.

A hoarse sob echoed throughout the room.

She should kill him.

The thought made her pause. He was alone, no Kenobi to deal with. Vulnerable and hurting.

Want coiled through her, the dark side pulsing seductively. Oh, to take out Skywalker, to repay him for his tutelage, for his abandonment of her.

She peered over at him, an internal debate keeping her rooted by the door.

His head snapped up and their eyes locked. The room chilled considerably, and Ahsoka could taste the Dark Side.

Anakin’s eyes flashed yellow to match her own.

Killing him would be more difficult, now that he’d subconsciously realized the futility of the Light Side. Rage and hurt tended to do that to a person.

She would know.

She’d be better off fleeing the scene, disappearing into the bustling streets of Coruscant.

A second option formed in her mind.

The words she’d been forced to learn, the Sith Code. There are always two-

If she played this right, pretended to have been tricked by Dooku, she could make herself a very useful ally. A few tears, and a sob story of the dark side taking hold of her mind- he’d forgive her. She’d just be the padawan he wasn’t able to protect, the one he’d left behind to this fate.

And then, they could turn their sights to Dooku.

She smirked. Ahsoka turned and stared into the tumultuous rage pulsing within Anakin Skywalker. Such raw potential.

This was going to be fun.

#angstpril2021 #fic #day 29 #going dark #tw: character death #tw: decapitation #oh wow how did this happen?#i don't know either #but i am DEF going to flesh this out because the potential!!!#my fic

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kyber-queen · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 2

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, weeks before the Siege of Mandalore. This chapter takes place two years after the prologue--Jedi master!reader is stationed in the outer rim and is currently kicking ass alongside Aayla Secura. Reader n Anakin are gonna be bros, Rex runs from his problems.

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: The first real chapter is up !! ALSO I do have a taglist for this fic so lmk if you want to be added !! This chapter is a bit exposition-y, but it’ll pick up soon !!

Previous | Next

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

Your lightsaber cleaved through the battle droid, leaving a bubbling mess of metal in your wake as you leapt to your next target. You were efficient, your strokes short and effective. You deflected a final blaster shot from a fallen droid before sprinting back to where Master Secura stood. She was perched on the only clear slate of ground amidst a sea of demolished battle droids. Realizing that, for now, the fight was over, you sucked in a few greedy breaths as you wiped your brow. Noting your gesture, Aayla shook her head with a smile.

“Tired already, Commander?”

You laughed breathlessly, rolling your shoulders and giving your lightsaber an experimental spin. “Just warming up, General,”.

You switched on your datapad, reviewing the strategy you had composed. Your eyes flicked from the battle plans to your surroundings, noting the rocky terrain and sparse vegetation. A grunt to your right drew your attention—a few troopers dragging one of their wounded to the medevac. Your stomach clenched. Thanks to your constant planning and preparation, the 327th had the lowest casualty count in the GAR. Even so, every loss hit you personally. Due to your position as a strategist, you took credit for every victory and every defeat—if you lost a man on the battlefield, it was due to your planning.

The beeping of Aayla’s commlink interrupted your dwellings. Master Windu’s voice cut through the steady thrum of the battle tanks’ generators as Aayla paged him through.

“Master Secura. Master—” A shout from one of the clone troopers drew your attention. The separatists’ reinforcements had arrived.

Windu carried on despite the interruption. “General, your auxiliary commanding officer is required on Coruscant immediately. You may proceed with your mission as planned,”. He addressed you next. “Commander, please be advised as to commandeer a starship as soon as possible. Upon returning to Coruscant, meet me aboard the Venator,”.

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to Aayla, concerned.

“Grab a starfighter, Commander. We’ll be fine,”.

“But the reinforcements—”

“Are accounted for in your plans, no? Go,”. Aayla patted you on the shoulder.

You gave her a reluctant smile and headed toward the starfighters.

Once you had piloted out of the atmosphere, you set your hyperdrive coordinates to Coruscant and settled into your seat. You bounced your leg nervously. You hadn’t been back on Coruscant in years. You hadn’t been back since—well, since you were with Rex. You doubted he would be there, you doubted he was even alive at times. Hope fluttered in your chest just the same.

The journey was easy enough—you arrived at Coruscant within the hour. You disembarked from your starfighter, and immediately sought out the Venator. Windu was waiting for you at the ramp, and he motioned for you to walk with him.

“Since your appointment as Master, you’ve excelled at both strategy and diplomacy while assigned to the 327th.Your success within this unit is undeniable, but myself and other members of the council feel that your talents could best be used elsewhere,”.

You nodded in understanding. You were aboard the Venator now, and you found yourself distracted by the steady stream of troopers flowing through the halls of the destroyer. You searched each face, looking for someone you knew was probably long gone. You didn’t even know if you would recognize him now. So much time had passed since you first left Coruscant, yet thoughts of the man you left behind still occupied your mind. With each new unit you encountered, you hoped to catch a glimpse of blond hair within the crowd. As you focused more and more on their faces, Windu’s speech faded into the distance.

“Are you listening, Master?”

You shook yourself back to attention.

“I’m sorry, Master Windu. Could you repeat that?”

“I said that you’ll be assisting the 501st in tactical preparation and risk reduction. You’ll report to General Skywalker—he’s brilliant, but his plans often lack forethought. Your emphasis on preparation before action will serve him well. Meet General Skywalker on the bridge—he’ll be waiting for you,”.

Your eyes went wide. The 501st? Images of Rex flooded through your mind. It’s been just over two years since you’d last seen him—the systems in the outer rim had dearly needed republic support, and your year-long tour had been prolonged indefinitely. So much had happened, so much had changed. You were a Jedi master now, but you couldn’t repress the way your heart fluttered at the prospect of seeing him again.

“Oh, and Commander?” Your eyes flicked to Windu.

“Yes, Master?”

“Good luck,”.

Windu turned, and you watched as he disappeared into the crowd. Where were you supposed to meet Skywalker, again? Remembering your purpose, you set off for the bridge. Skywalker was waiting for you at the entrance, as Master Windu had said. He gave you an appraising look.

“You’re the Commander, right?” His tone was guarded—you could tell he was uneasy about you. He probably didn’t appreciate your intrusion into his unit. You knew from the republic reports that Skywalker was one of the most skilled Generals in the GAR—the 501st had a surprisingly low casualty rate, rivalling the 327th. Skywalker seemed to be handling his troops just fine. Why were you here?

“Guilty as charged. Forgive me if this is forward, but I’ve read your reports. Your loss numbers are low despite the relative spontaneity of your strategies. You clearly have control over your battalion. Why am I here?”

Skywalker grinned. “That’s what I said. The council thinks my strategies need more structure—I guess that’s where you come in,”.

“Well, General, I’ll do my best to align your tactics with the council’s ideals—but considering how high your success rate is, I think it would be best if I left most tactical autonomy to you. Would you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Skywalker paused, before laughing to himself. You cocked your head.

“What?”

“You know, you’re not at all what I thought you’d be,”.

“I’m going to assume that’s a good thing,” you smiled.

“It is. I guess I should go over our specifications—”

You should have been listening as the General gave you the rundown of his battalion. You couldn’t. All you could think about was Rex. Was he here? Was he alive? You should ask—you doubted Skywalker would know the answer. Did he have a directory of his troops? Maybe you could ask to look through his records.

“—my clone captain, Rex, will be meeting us here to take you on a tour of the ship. Oh, and we don’t do numbers here—my men have names, and you’ll use them,”.

Your eyes widened. If you were any less shocked, you might have been touched by Skywalker’s sentiment. Did he say Rex was his captain? You must be hallucinating now.

“I’m sorry, what did you say his name was?”

“Rex—oh, speak of the devil, here he is now,”. Anakin looked over your shoulder, oblivious to the emotional tailspin he had sent you into.

You turned to follow Skywalker’s gaze, and your heart stopped in your chest. He’s here. The same honey-brown eyes, the same blonde buzz, a little older, a little wearier, but it was him.

“Rex—”

He snapped into a solute, his features set in a stoic gaze as he addressed Skywalker.

“General,” his eyes shifted over to you, his expression imperceptible. “Master,”.

Rex turned, and Skywalker motioned for you to follow him. The general took a few jogging steps to catch up with his captain, and whispered something to him that caused him to sneak a momentary glance over his shoulder at you. You were perplexed. Did he not recognize you? You were certain it was him. Skywalker retreated back into the command center, and Rex’s gruff baritone interrupted your thoughts.

“Barracks’re this way,”. Rex motioned to his left before setting off in the direction he indicated.

You enlarged your steps to avoid trailing behind. Rex walked faster. Spotting what looked like a maintenance room, you grabbed at his arm to stop him.

“Sir, what are you—”

You dragged him into the closet and closed the door.

“It’s really you, right?”

Rex nodded, slowly.

“Do you remember me?” You studied his face, watching as he slowly raised his stare to your knit brow and wide eyes. He sighed, and you watched his shoulders fall slightly.

“Yeah, ‘course I do,”.

You were at a loss for words. You took in the kama and pauldrons, the score marks on his vambraces.

“You’re a captain, now?”

“You’re a master, now?”

You laughed, and you noted the creases in Rex’s cheeks when he smiled. His smile disappeared far too soon for your liking. War had aged you both, but he wore it well, you thought. You opened your mouth to speak, but the buzzing of Rex’s commlink interjected.

Rex looked up from the commlink with an apologetic smile. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around, right?”

You nodded. There was so much you wanted to say.

Rex clapped you on the shoulder and walked out the door.

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

Like Real People Do Taglist: @pinkiemme @callme-eds @dinpoe

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #the 501st #the clones #rex x you #aayla secura #anakin skywalker #mace windu

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auroralwriting · 4 years

Text

Game for One

Request: anakin skywalker using the force in dirty ways on female reader, maybe a senator? i so need this in my life 😔👉👈

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Senator! Reader

Type: slight smut and fluff

A/n: I added Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Han Solo to my requests list! So let’s hear some story prompts for them!! Send in requests :)

MASTERLIST

You had gotten yourself all dolled up in a pretty little press, one that resembled the ones Padmé Amidala wore (which made sense seeing as this was Padmé’s dress that she let you borrow). Being a senator means you have to look your best, so you put on some perfume and a little splash of makeup to top it off. Your hair was slightly curled at the bottom to look more professional than just a regular hairstyle.

Today was one of the days you got to see your boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker. Since you were a senator on a different planet than him, it was rare you got to spend time with him. Somehow, you convinced your counsel at home to let you have a few days off, spending some time in Coruscant. They hesitantly agreed, but asked if you would go to the Galactic Senate meeting for them to listen in and report back later. You agreed, just happy you could see Anakin.

It seemed the transport you were in was trying to make you go slow. Your foot tapped the ground rather harshly as you stood up and went to the cockpit. “Can this thing go any faster? I have a meeting to get too.” you asked as kindly as you could, but you knew you sounded annoyed.

“Yes ma’am, we’ll go to full speed. Sorry for the inconvenience.” the pilot said.

“Nonsense, thank you for being so flexible.” you replied as you went back to your seat.

Ten more minutes passed and you had landed, already being escorted through the bustling streets of Coruscant to the senate building. The moment you stepped in, you saw senators from all over walking around.

Quickly, you spotted your friend, Padmé. “Oh, Padmé! How lovely to see you.” you cried as the two of you embraced in a small hug.

“You as well, Y/n! Is- isn’t that my dress?” she smirked as you laughed.

“Of course it is. It’s the best one I had in my closet. Your clothes are always divine.” you smiled.

Padmé put a hand over her heart. “Why thank you!” she leaned in closer to your ear. “Anakin’s here.”

Your heart fluttered at her words. She knew of you two being together. She’d seen the two of you kissing for a brief second and begged for the details. You both knew she wouldn’t tell a soul.

“He is?” you asked quietly.

Padmé nodded excitedly. “He’s here with Obi-Wan and the Chancellor. I guess someone made a threat to him, they’re protecting him for the day.” Padmé explained as you nodded.

“Makes sense. He is, after all, the Chancellor of the busiest planet there is.” you giggled lightly. “Do you know where they are?” you asked.

Padmé’s eyes looked to the left of you. You looked to see Anakin walking with the Chancellor and Obi-Wan. Being such a dear, Padmé called them over.

“Master Kenobi , Master Skywalker! How nice to see you. Chancellor, I heard about the threats. I hope you’re well.” Padmé said as the two of you approached them.

“Of course.” the Chancellor replied. “Senator L/n, what a pleasure to see you here today. I thought you would’ve stayed on your planet longer.”

You shook your head. “Oh, my counsel can’t keep me locked up there for too long! My visits to Coruscant are always a joy, so much that I get a few days off to be here.” you said, mainly to Anakin. You saw his eyes light up out of the corner of your eyes. “Master Skywalker, Kenobi. It’s good to see you both.”

“It’s good to see you too, Senator.” Obi-Wan replied. “It’s been far too long since we last saw you.”

“You look nice, Senator L/n.” Anakin complimented. That had always been his way of saying you looked absolutely beautiful.

You slightly bowed your head in thanks. “Thank you, Master Skywalker. But, in all honestly, thank Padmé. After all, this is her wonderful gown.” you said in a lightly teasing voice, nudging Padmé with your elbow.

“You always seem to pull off my clothes better than I do, Y/n.” she said with a sweet smile. A small bell chimed, meaning the meeting would begin soon. “Well, we must take off. It’s been wonderful to catch up. Hope to see you soon!” Padmé said as the two of you took off the other way.

Somehow, you had managed to squeeze Anakin’s hip lightly. You turned your head to see him with a hungry look in his eyes, yet a teasing and loving one. It was a look you’d seen only once before when you’d been in a slave outfit, but Anakin seemed to hide his feelings well then. You assumed the separation of the two of you had gotten to him just as much as you.

Padmé and you took seats in pods next to one another. You were alone in yours, seeing as no Jedi or guards had came with you. As the meeting started, you tried to pay attention. But whoever was speaking had such a monotone voice. It was so boring!

From across the room, Anakin could sense your boredom, and also your desire for his touch. You’d always been an easy one to read for him. He decided to give you a little bit of fun, knowing you’d be angry with him later.

As you leaned on your hand, eyes beginning to close shut, you felt a tingling sensation by your core. You jumped slightly at the feeling. It pushed on your core as you held in a whimper. You knew this was Anakin’s doing, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm.

The feeling didn’t let up, in fact, it went upward to that little bundle of nerves Anakin loved. Your breathing increased as you refused to move. You pretended like nothing was happening, you just tried to listen to the monotone voice once more.

Anakin realized the game you were trying to play, so he decided to really step up his game. At this point, he paid no attention to anything around him. He knew that if anything were to happen, Obi-Wan had it under control until he snapped out of his lust.

You were doing just fine until you felt that tingle, which was now a more solid feeling, move into your core. You bit your bottom lip softly, suppressing a moan. Anakin isn’t going to hear the end of this later. You could feel the feeling stretching your walls and pumping in and out of your core. At this point, you where overwhelmed with the feeling of the Force digging into you. Quickly, you stood up a little and smoothed your dress, acting as is there were a crease. As you sat down, the feeling had passed and you looked around the room.

Finding Anakin’s eyes, you sent him a small glare as he licked his lips in reply. You rolled your eyes as you felt a small graze over your knuckles. Softly, you touched them. Anakin was clearly in a touchy mood.

After the senate meeting, you went to Anakin’s apartment. You knew which one was his, you’d been there before. You knocked lightly as you walked in. Looking around the living room, you didn’t see Anakin anywhere. You shut the door behind you and slipped off your heels. You walked to the small little balcony and watched the sun set around the city, listening to the noises of speeders and technology all around.

“Two beautiful sights all in one, I’m a lucky guy.”

You turned around and smiled when you saw your boyfriend leaning on the wall, a smile forming on his face. “Hi.” you smiled, already giddy inside.

“I missed you.” Anakin said, stepping into the light of the sunset. Maker did he look like a god.

“I missed you so much more.” you replied, walking into Anakin’s open arms. Burying your face in is chest, you smelled his sweet cologne as he rubbed your back. “Also, I hate you.”

Anakin laughed. “That little stunt I pulled?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“That little stunt could have gotten us exposed, Anakin.” you replied, pulling back. “If anyone finds out, you could get expelled. I could get expelled from the senate.”

“Princess, you know I wouldn’t let that happen.” Anakin pointed out. “We’ve done good so far.”

You let out a small growl mixed with a huff as Anakin laughed. You knew he was right. “You’re going to make up for it.” you drawled in a low voice, looking down to Anakin’s already hard member.

“Am I?” he taunted, but knowing he would end up being the dominant one. That’s always the way it ended up. “Or am I going to make you so pleased that you can’t walk tomorrow?” he continued, looking down to you with a coy smile.

Your lips collided with a lust, one that was untameable. Anakin was clearly excited; he wrapped his arms under your thighs and held you up to him as he walked inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He only broke the kiss when he threw you down on the bed lightly.

Quickly, the both of you undressed as he pounced on top of you, his lips shining with moisture.

Anakin didn’t lie, either. You sure couldn’t walk the next morning.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker one shot #star wars #star wars one shot #star wars smut #star wars fluff #star wars imagine

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sunflowersturn · 4 years

Text

Cloak and Armor

You’ve been waiting on Obi-Wan to come home for a long time.

3007 words, warning for babbys first smut

People who (probably) want to be tagged: @karasong @killerqueenofalderaan @kaminobiwan @labyrinth-runner @afogocado

The days always seemed longer when Obi-Wan was out on a mission, no matter the time of year on Coruscant. You tried your hardest to fill them, to keep yourself constructive and busy, but at the end of the night when you were alone in your bed you couldn’t help feeling cold and lonely. It was only natural, when you found one of his (many) spare cloaks accidentally tucked behind a couch cushion, that you would start wearing it around your apartment.

It still smelled a little like him; like the incense he used to help his meditation and the tea he would never admit he preferred and just the ever so slight hint of ozone from the use of his lightsaber at some point in the past. You liked to curl yourself in it after a hard day of work and tuck your face into the fabric, closing your eyes and imagining it was his arms around you instead of the heavy wool. Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn’t, but the times it did you often found yourself drifting off to sleep still wrapped in the folds.

Tonight was one of those nights. A hard day, a long week, days blurring together until you felt as though they were one, long, agonizing headache. You made yourself some tea (his favorite, of course) and sat yourself down to watch some holos with his heavy cloak wrapped around your shoulders. You drifted off within minutes, and woke to the sound of heavy knocking on your door hours later.

You were bleary as you stumbled your way over, and didn’t bother to look at the security screen before you were unlocking the door. If you had, you might not have been so shocked to see that it was Obi-Wan leaning on the door frame and giving you a weary smile.

“I hope that you’ve been a bit more careful than that while I’ve been away, darling,” he said, looking and sounding about as exhausted as you’d felt. But there was still a light in his eyes as he looked at you.

You made a strangled sound, unable to form proper words, and threw yourself at him hard enough to make him grunt at the impact as his arms wrapped around you. He chuckled and walked you back inside your apartment so he could kick the door closed behind him and bury his face in your hair.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that you realized he felt a lot more...rigid than usual, and you lifted your head to see that he was still wearing his armor. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of it after his debriefing, you realized, and your heart warmed at the thought.

“Couldn’t wait to get over here to see me?” you asked, trying to sound teasing but coming off a bit breathless as you looked up in his eyes.

He grinned, slowly, and lifted a gloved hand to push hair out of your eyes. Your skin tingled at the unfamiliar sensation of the smooth leather and you leaned into the soft touch. “It took every ounce of my energy to shield my thoughts of you from the blasted council. If I stopped to shower or change I wouldn’t have been able to make it.” He quirked a brow at you. “Does it bother you?”

“N-no!” Your cheeks flushed when you realized how vehement that denial sounded and of course he immediately picked up on it. His eyes were already dark but now they were glinting as he backed you up further still, out of the entrance hall and into your apartment proper.

“I see now,” he said. His voice was soft and low, belying that look in his eyes, and that damned smile was still spreading across his face, growing darker and more devious by the moment. You were suddenly conscious of every thought flying through your head, knowing that he could pick up on any one of them at any given time through the Force. “You like it, is that right? You like seeing me like this. Knowing that I absolutely couldn’t help myself and I just had to be here as soon as I possibly could.”

Your face was bright red and you couldn’t even bring yourself to shake your head, because you knew that he’d plucked all of it straight from the source. You put your hands on his duraplast arm guards, sliding them slowly up the slick, cool surface, and swallowed deeply.

“Well, after being cold and alone for almost a month, a girl likes to feel special,” you said, and thankfully your voice didn’t shake. When you glanced up at his face you could see that there was only a thin ring of blue-green iris around his pupils and you grunted a bit when your back hit the wall that separated the den from your kitchen.

He chose not to speak, dipping his head down to kiss you instead and the force of his affection was absolutely searing. You moaned, shocking yourself with how loud it was despite being muffled by his mouth, and parted your lips immediately for his tongue. Your hands slid the rest of the way up his arms, fingers catching where the plates of his armor overlapped, until you could reach his hair to clutch at the strands. He must have showered at some point on the way back from his mission, because it was still soft and silky as it ever was between your fingers, and you realized that he must have planned to do this at least that far in advance.

Obi-Wan finally managed to pull his mouth away and panted into the space between you, leaning his forehead against yours. “Once we completed our mission objective, all I could think about was getting back here to you… I almost thought about leaving Anakin to debrief alone, but that would have been a bit much for the council to swallow.”

You shook your head and leaned up to kiss him again, fumbling when you reached for the lapels of his robe and found the lower edge of his chest plate instead. You didn’t care about the council politics, didn’t care how long it had taken him to get here. He made a soft, agreeable sound against your lips and braced a hand against the wall behind you as he started to move the other from around your waist to reach for your own clothes.

“Ah, what…?” he said as he pulled back from you, ignoring your whine of disappointment. His brow was furrowed with confusion as he looked at you and it appeared to take him a moment to realize what he was looking at. “...is that my cloak?”

You looked down at yourself. The sleeves hung down several inches past your hands when you allowed your arms down, and it definitely dragged the floor when you didn’t pick up the hem. You looked back up at him with an expression caught between sheepish and amused.

“It’s definitely not mine,” you said, and if it were possible you could swear you saw his eyes darken even further.

Your breath caught in your chest as he pressed himself against you, chest plate digging lightly into your front, and you let out a soft, helpless sound against his lips as he leaned down to kiss you again. His arms were reaching down, hooking under your thighs, and before you could fully process what was going on he had lifted you up, back sliding against the wall, so he could pin you between it and his body. You moaned deeply into is mouth as you reached for his arm, finding the gap between his arm guards to give him a squeeze of appreciation.

Do you know how maddening that thought is?

You gasped against his mouth when you heard his voice in your head and you moaned deeply once again, feeling your head spin as his tongue slid against yours and he pressed himself even closer.

The idea of you wandering around this apartment in my clothes, darling, drives me absolutely wild. He projected the words into your head with the Force, voice echoing and intense, filling your mind with that crisp Coruscanti accent you adored. Did you wrap yourself in it after a shower so you could smell like me? Did you curl up with it at night when I wasn’t here to hold you? Did you touch yourself and imagine I was here to help you…?

Yes, you thought, knowing he would pick up on it. Yes, you had. Yes, you’d clung to it at night in leiu of his warm body laying beside you. Yes, you’d wrapped yourself in his scent and touched yourself while you dreamed of his hands and his lips and his tongue. Yes, you’d done all of those things.

He groaned against you and his grip on your thighs tightened possessively. Obviously the thought of you wearing his cloak fed into something that he hadn’t realized he liked so much. Your sleeping shorts left most of your legs exposed, and you could feel that soft leather sliding against your skin. That, too, seemed to awaken something in you that you hadn’t known you needed before. You squirmed a bit, whining as you tried to find the right angle, and managed to hook your legs around his waist before you pulled your mouth away from his for air.

“Obi,” you said, tone plaintive and desperate. It was mostly natural, only played up just the slightest bit because you knew he loved to hear you pleading. You kissed his jaw, along the line of it and up underneath, with soft and quick pecks between pleas. “Please, Obi, I can’t wait any longer. I missed you so much. Please…”

Rather than responding with words, you felt a sudden spike of emotion from him through the Force, full of desire and possessiveness and an ache that was just as great as yours. You moaned out loud, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as the feeling washed over you and ebbed away again.

“Hold on, lovely,” he murmured in your ear, and you tightened your grip on him as he pulled you away from the wall and moved quickly to your bedroom, closing the door behind him with a push through the Force so it closed with a quiet snap.

It was dark in your room aside from the light coming in from the city outside, and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust—not that you noticed much, as you were busy trying to kiss Obi-Wan’s neck around the high collar of his chest plate. He was much too graceful to stumble into the bed, but it was a bit of a rough landing and you grunted as his weight came to rest on top of you. He started to try to stand, but you still had your legs wrapped around his waist and you gave him the pleading eyes once more, knowing he could see you better than you could see him.

“I can’t wait, Obi, please,” you said, hoping he picked up on your silent request.

You couldn’t see his expression very clearly, but you did see the flash of his white teeth in the dark as he smiled. He leaned down to kiss you again, only lingering for a moment on your mouth before he started to move. His beard tickled a bit as he moved down your jaw and to the vein in your neck and you whined, canting your hips up into his. You were surprised that he wasn’t wearing armored trousers underneath the robes but it hardly mattered when you could finally, finally feel exactly how much he wanted you pressing right up against your core. You let out a broken moan as he hissed against the skin of your neck.

“Patience,” he said, voice stern and close in your ear, but you knew he didn’t really mean it because he was pressing down into you, too. You shook your head and whimpered again, bucking up against him to spur him on and listening as he choked out, “Maker…”

He lifted his hands to your thighs again, this time encouraging you to let him go so he could lean up off you and help you out of your clothes. When you started to pull your arms from the sleeves of his robe, he silently shook his head at you, and you just barely caught the motion in the dark. Your heart beat unsteadily in your chest as you stopped. He pulled down your sleep shorts and your underwear underneath and you heard him suck in a breath. You squirmed, rolling your hips back and forth, and he said something in a language you didn’t recognize at first—until you realized it must be Mando’a. Had his troops been teaching him to curse in their native language?

The question was driven from your mind when you heard him attending to himself, undoing the simple closure of his trousers in the dark. Normally you would have offered to help, but you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights and you would only be getting in the way. Your mouth still watered as you pictured what he was doing. Pulling himself out of his underwear, allowing those trousers to fall down from around his hips. You had a very clear image in your mind and you moaned and fidgeted again, earning yourself a gloved hand on one thigh, squeezing you in warning.

Finally, he was settling above you. Finally, you could feel the blunt head of his cock leaning against your entrance. Finally, finally, finally, he was sliding home and your eyes rolled back in your head as you stretched around him. At first it was almost uncomfortable, as you’d only had your own company for so long, but it didn’t take long for you to relax and you let out a throaty moan, reaching up blindly to find him in the dark. Your fingers skittered across cold duraplast, unable to find purchase until you found the gap between spaulder and chest plate and you latched on tightly as he bottomed out inside you with a groan of his own.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, and you pulled him down to you again, needing to have his mouth against yours. He hummed as he allowed your tongue past his lips and you could actually feel yourself tearing up when he drew his hips back, irrationally emotional at even the idea of him pulling out of you, until he snapped them back and filled you up again and you saw stars.

His pace was brutal, but it was exactly what you wanted. Quick, dirty, and rough. You’d been on your own for too long, gently easing yourself through orgasms just to pass the time in the evenings that would have normally been spent with him. Tears were building in your eyes still and you kept your grip on him tight and close, as though you were afraid to let him get too far away from you, and your fingertips stung with the effort of keeping your grip on his armor. His hands were still on your hips but almost as soon as you thought about it you could feel that soft leather glove traveling up your body, under your shirt and to your breast. He gave you a rough squeeze and you cried out into his mouth.

After a moment you could feel him shifting above you again, though he didn’t break his pace, and his hand was under your thigh, encouraging you to lift it up higher, spread yourself wider. You caught his meaning without needing an explanation and pulled up your other leg. He groaned deep in his throat as the motions pulled you tighter around him, and you couldn’t help the tiny scream that ripped out of your chest when you realized the new angle was making him hit that spot that made you see stars in other galaxies.

“O-Obi, I’m—fuck, I’m—” you started, and he knew without you needing to finish. You had thought it impossible before, but he picked up the pace once again and you let out a squeal each time he drove himself home. Those tears were stinging and welling up fast. “Are—are you—?”

He may have nodded in the dark and forgotten you couldn’t see him, because it took a moment for him to answer with a breathless. “Y-yes, darling, yes.” Just hearing him sounding so rough was enough to have you fluttering, but then he reached down and pressed his thumb into your clit and that was enough to send you over the edge. Your vision went white and everything else in the universe outside of the two of you just completely disappeared. Tears slid down your cheeks and you let out a ragged sound not unlike a sob as you came, and you could feel Obi-Wan joining you shortly after, prolonging your own as the feeling of his hot cum sent yet more waves of pleasure tingling up your spine.

It took a moment for you to realize that he had stopped moving, and he was hovering over you and panting breathlessly. You let your legs down and wordlessly held up your arms for him, smiling when you heard him chuckle and felt him lay down, partially on top of you, and wrap his arms around you once more. You were sure you made quite the picture, tangled together with him in his armor and you in his cloak.

“I’m going to need to get changed,” he said softly into the space between you, and you hummed. “I’ve tried to sleep in this before, it’s not fun.”

“So get up and get changed,” you said, and you didn’t remove your arms. After a long moment of no movement, you smiled to yourself and pressed a kiss to the first part of him you could reach.

#obi-wan kenobi #star wars #fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #obi-wan x reader #fics

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majorshiraharu · 4 years

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11. “Same time tomorrow?” with Fives please 🥺😍🥰❤

----------- Fives x Reader Fluff -----------

The hours of the day went by slowly, working your shift at a restaurant on Coruscant, awaiting any news about the 501st that came through the holoprojector, Fives was one of the many troopers called to defend his home planet. You couldn't help but worry about him, - trying to keep the wandering thoughts away as you took orders and passed out dishes. --- Any day he was stationed on Coruscant he would always come by during your break, even though the time was short it was something both of you looked forward too. It had been a few days since he was last here, there'd been a lot of battles the 501st had taken him on, you tried finding out when they might return, but there hadn't been much information, everyone unsure of how the battle of Kamino would turn out. You're snapped out of your thoughts hearing a familiar voice call out to you as you finished grabbing menus from the table, turning around you see Fives, standing there with a smile on his face. "Fives!" You shout smiling back, quickly walking up to him, and hugging him, "How was your mission?" "Went well, we set the clankers packing and...I might have gotten promoted, to ARC trooper." "WHAT?!" You yelled so loud other guests looked at you, as Fives trying to hold back a laugh. "Let's go to the back," you whispered taking his hand and leading him to the staff area of the restaurant. "Aren't you still on shift?" He asked you raising a brow. "Shift ends in like 2 minutes," you said pulling him behind the door and kissing him on the cheek, "Would you like something to eat, I can get you something." "Oh, no that's okay, I ate not too long ago." "Since no one's here to stare at me, congratulations Fives!" You said looping your arms around his neck and kissing him, earning a small delightful moan from him as his hands gently rested on your lower back. “Thanks,” he murmured before kissing you back.

"So, what would you like to do, I work late today otherwise I’d take you out somewhere," you asked pulling back to look at him and catch some air. "More of that," Fives said with a smirk, making you laugh. "I have to work again soon and you know what happened the last time we did that," you replied slapping his chest plate. "How about a walk then?" "Sounds nice," you answered kissing him again before you both walked out the back door of the building.

There wasn't much to look at during the walk so your eyes stayed focused on him as he talked about his recent missions and that he wished he had more time to spend with you. When you were with him it was almost like time stood still, but also passed faster than it should, your break was ending soon, luckily for you Fives was paying attention to the time, not wanting you to be late or get in trouble. -- You clock back in just before your shift starts, turning back to him as the minute you have left slowly ticks away. "Sorry I can't spend more time with you... I--" - He cuts you off with a kiss, before replying, "Y/N don't apologize we both have our own work." "I just wish we had more time together," you say with a sad expression. "But we make it work with the time we have and that's all that matters." "You're right," you said with a smile returning to your face as you looked at him. "You should get back to work, I don't want to get you in trouble again," he says leaning in to kiss you one more time “Same time tomorrow?" He asked, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Yup!" You replied kissing him back before your boss called out to you. The both of you reluctantly pull away, -- turning to walk in separate directions before Fives stops and calls to you, "Y/N?" "Yes?" "Call me later, you can use this," he said waving a device in his hand before setting it on one of the nearby surfaces, as he walked out the door.

A bright smile shining across your face as you returned to work.

#arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives fluff #fives x reader #fives x reader fluff #clone trooper fives #501st #fives #arc trooper fives request

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mmuschi · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

Just some OC Clone x OC Jedi General.

The clone Commander is Aiwha and he is of my husband’s making for our clone wars dnd campaign and the Jedi is a little Pantoran! It is 1390 words and not proof read or edited.

Everything was so blurry, if this wasn’t something she’d seen before it wouldn’t have been identifiable. Amuna had watched the death of her mother hundreds of times, the way the place she had been raised blew up behind her as her mother rushed her to meet the man who was supposed to save them.

Every time it always started with her watching the silver armored Mandalorian go with her mother into the backroom. This man rarely spoke to her, just her mother. This confused her. Her mother only went back with men who paid, and this man never did. She could never stop herself from following them to the room to try to listen in. Every time she couldn't hear anything but hushed whispers, sounds she never heard from these back rooms. They were typically louder. The next bit was always blurred. Her mother was sneaking around the back refusing to let her anywhere near her. The first time experiencing this was confusing. She attempted to follow her mother as she carried a container with a liquid that now smells familiar. It didn’t at the time. Amuna’s mother snapped at her to hurry to the front and for once, she was ordered not to accept any drinks. As she hurried away, the scenery morphed. Her mother was dragging her away from the palace. Away from the Hutt. Away from the bounty hunters, except one. She never knew the name of. She couldn't help but look over her shoulder to watch the palace as a loud explosion went off. There were several more before all that remained was smoke rising from the rubble.

They made their way to an odd shaped ship Amuna had never seen or read of. Unlike most times this has happened, this time it seemed familiar. She couldn’t pinpoint where exactly she had seen this ship before. The man had somehow beat them to the ship and was already boarding it. He stopped to look back at them momentarily. “I did as you asked. You promised me safety for my daughter and I. And I expect you to hold up to it.” Her mother said loudly from next to her. She slowed down, but did not stop as she practically dragged Amuna to this ship.

“Not passage. You will have to find your own way off the world.” The silver armored man replied coldly before turning to board his ship. Her mother made a sudden movement from beside her, but Amuna couldn't remember what she did. Is that what led to what happened next?

“You bastard you promised!” Her mother shrieked at the man. In one simple movement, he pulled out a blaster and shot her square in the chest. As her mother fell to the ground, Amuna let out a horrified scream. When her mother fell, it almost sounded like something fell next to her, but this was a detail always overlooked. She dropped to the ground next to her mother. Hot tears fell down her face as warm blood coated her hands. She stayed like this, sobbing, for what felt like an eternity before she heard footsteps approach her. The man hadn't left.

“Get yourself off this world, kid.” The man said through the voice modulator as the sound of credits dropping landed right next to her. As he walked away, she heard him say something he’d never said before. “Amuna? Amuna?! Hey Amu-”

Amuna sat up with a start, but her head ran into something quite hard. She fell back onto her pillow and whined.

“Kriff, Amuna…” A familiar voice groaned from above her. It was a comforting familiar being almost exactly the same as the voice in her dream. As she opened her eyes, she noticed the outline of a man above her. He was sitting up and looking down at her. There was worry in this man’s eyes. Her cheeks were wet as they were in the dream, but her hands weren't. Her breathing was coming in and out rapidly as she tried to separate what happened in the dream and where she was. She slowly sat up this time as the man watched her regain her bearings. She aggressively wiped her hands on the thin sheets she was under. When the man realized she wasn't going to calm down anytime soon, he slowly reached out. He was moving slowly as if not to startle an animal.

“General, It's your commander. Aiwha. I'm right here.” The man spoke very softly to her as her head slowly dipped down into his hand. He spent a while working up to pulling her into his lap and just holding her, telling her to breathe with him. The only thing separating him from the man in the dream and from the man she sees now, is what he felt like. The force was always harder for her to understand given she was accepted into the order at a very late age, but he felt so much different. And it was comforting. After a while they sat in silence as she listened to his heart and breathing.

“Was I loud again, Aiwha?” Amuna finally spoke after a long silence. She had finally calmed down and now the embarrassment was setting in. She was typically quite loud. She had a few of her clone troopers ask her if she was alright the next day. It was frustrating. Aiwha didn't reply, but that gave her the answer. There was another long silence of just enjoying each other’s presence and her calming her nerves by just being held by him. He was sitting with his back to the wall and his legs stretched out towards the side of the bed. Amua was sitting sideways in his lap with her side leaning into his chest. His nose was pressed against her temple. He had one hand in her mess of cult, fluffy, pink hair and on top of her head. The other was wrapped around her waist and holding her close.

“Did you see Pounce’s newest painting? The more he paints the more I think he needs a Loth Cat.” Aiwha muttered in her ear. This brought a small smile to her face. She did nod as she remembered the painting the trooper had showed her days before. It was of a loth cat playing with him in a little meadow. “Or about how Heshtal was on a comm with General Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he put Roadblock on the spot. You would have liked seeing how flustered he got, General.” He continued to talk, but as soon as he called her ‘General’, she stopped him. “Aiwha, I'm not just your General. I'm Amuna to you. You know this.” She muttered softly. She felt the smile she caused against her temple.

“Yes Ma’am.” Aiwha replied. His heart seemed to flutter every time she corrected him. He knew what they were doing was dangerous, but as Amuna always said… their relationship was off the records.

“And yes, Aiwha… I did see those. I do live on this ship you know…” Amuna seemed to hold back a weak chuckle. Her voice was still weak, but the amusement was still there. That was what Aiwha was going for.

“Amuna, you should lay back down. We should be getting to Coura Aiwha, I did see those. I do live on this ship you know…” Amuna replied with an amused, yet clearly drained tone. She shifted her head away from his mouth and nuzzled it under his chin. His chest vibrated in a soft chuckle.

“Amuna, I think it is time for us to lay back down. We should be getting back to Coruscant soon. You need a little more sleep before talking to the council again.” Aiwha muttered sleepily. Reluctantly, she gave in and slid off his lap. They both slipped back under the thin covers. Aiwha wrapped an arm around her and rested his hand on top of her head to keep her fluffy hair out of his face.

“I love you, Aiwha. Thank you for being my best friend.” Amuna muttered softly as she let herself relax into sleep.

“I love you too, Amuna. Thank you for being my best friend too. I am truly grateful you ended up being my General.” And with that, the two drifted into a much more peaceful sleep.

#clone trooper x oc #oc clone trooper #oc jedi general #jedi #clone trooper #my friend's writing has been making me want to write more so here we are #also all the clone fics #guys this was at 3 am #i have dnd in the morning and then work #i also dont know how to write nightmares ive forgotten all of mine.

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Summary: Ki-Adi-Mundi was sent to Tatooine to bring back Sharad Hett. Instead, he brings back his son and, following the pleas of a tired recently knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi, frees Shmi Skywalker.

Read on AO3

A’Sharad Hett didn’t have anything but his lightsabers, his mask and the Force when he followed his new teacher into Mos Espa. The port was busy with people of all species hurrying through the streets, but he still couldn’t shake the looks they were giving him. It didn’t bother him, they were right to wary. A’Sharad was strong and had fought many battles for his clan to protect their hunting grounds from all these outlanders who thought they could push his clan to the dead sands where cowards went to die.

“There is a ship here that will take us back to Coruscant,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “I have to run another errand before that though. If you want, I can take you to the ship first and you can wait there for me.”

His new teacher was a strong, wise and kind man. He assumed A’Sharad needed time to recover from the pain of the last days, and he undoubtedly would, but now was not the time to mourn. Tatooine was a harsh world where its very air and sunlight were your enemy and A’Sharad understood all too well that he couldn’t grieve here.

And, perhaps if he allowed himself to think of the honest cool and cutting truth of the moonlight, A’Sharad could admit that he didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t used to it. Even if one’s fight was their own, a Tusken was never truly lonely.

“I’d like to go with you, Master,” A’Sharad answered.

Mundi smiled at him. “I am glad to hear that Padawan. Perhaps your presence might help make my venture a little easier.”

“What are we doing?”

Mundi guided them through the streets into the poorer districts of the city until eventually, they reached the slave quarters proper. A’Sharad’s clan never had any troubles with the slaves or Tatooine. Their people were hurting just as much as the Tuskens and when they crossed paths in the desert, they gladly invited them to stay a night. It took great strength to run away and take your freedom when you came from nothing. The slaves didn’t know to trust them, but that was no surprise. Their owners, rich businessmen, and moisture farmers alike claimed people and land with no regard to another’s autonomy or belongings.

They were all skaterkst, bad.

“About three months ago another Jedi was stranded here on Tatooine, Qui-Gon Jinn was his name. I mentioned him before.”

A’Sharad recalled that name. Mundi had talked about him with his father. Sharad Hett had held him in high regard. A’Sharad nodded and sighed for Mundi to continue.

“Qui-Gon found a boy here, Anakin. He is very strong in the Force, but was wholly untrained. He freed Anakin in a rather spectacular manner if the boy’s account is to be believed. However, his mother is still a slave. Anakin’s teacher asked me to take a slight detour on this mission to free his mother. We can hardly expect the boy to let go of his attachments if his mother’s torment looms over him like a cord.”

“You are kind,” A’Sharad said.

He had been taught to let go when the storms had claimed his mother when he’d been a young child still. He was an adult now, a warrior. He had slain a krayt dragon and he would become a Jedi of the Order and not think about parents left behind in the desert.

“I’m a Jedi,” Mundi replied, though his answer almost felt more like a correction. “I do what is necessary.”

Mundi then stopped when he saw a group of women talking. A group of children was playing around them, a game of catch or something similar, A’Sharad wasn’t sure. There appeared to be some rules the children followed, but the pattern made no sense to him. Mundi only smiled at the display, then walked over to the women.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I seek a woman by the name of Shmi Skywalker. I am Ki-Adi-Mundi of the Jedi Order and this is my Padawan A’Sharad Hett. We’re here on behalf of her son, Anakin.”

One of the women stepped forward. Out of the three of them, she was the brightest. A’Sharad was used to utilizing the Force as his compass when the storms got so bad, you couldn’t even see your bantha. This woman was so full of light, A’Sharad could be blind and he would still find her.

“Anakin? My Anakin?” The woman repeated.

“You are Shmi Skywalker then?”

“Yes,” Shmi said. A’Sharad couldn’t sense a lie. She was speaking the truth and she was telling it with so much hope, it was startling.

“I’m very glad to hear that. Lady Skywalker, I apologize that it took us so long, but we are here to free you.”

The children that had been playing around them stopped and all of them, with no exception, stared at them with big eyes. The two women with Shmi looked torn between suspicion and disbelief, but the same couldn’t be said about Shmi. She looked at them in relief and wonder. Her arms hung slack at her side and while she didn’t say a word, didn’t ask them a question, A’Sharad could feel it all in the Force. It must be similar for his new teacher who studied her in curiosity before producing a small pouch and giving it to Shmi. She opened it and slowly counted the money, piece after piece before she closed the bag again and closed her eyes for just one moment to take a deep breath. When she was finished, Mundi continued.

Then, in the same voice he had used to ask A’Sharad if he wanted to stay behind, he spoke to Shmi.

“Originally, I was just going to give you the needed peggats as a Jedi cannot be seen dealing in slavery. The political upheaval it would cause is unimaginable. Fortunately, my young Padawan has not been inducted into the Order proper yet and his actions before his introductions will not reflect back on the Order at large.”

Mundi’s eyes shone almost mischievously as he turned to A’Sharad. “A’Sharad, would you take ensuring the freedom of this woman as your first mission as my Padawan?”

Shmi Skywalker with her burning hope looked at him like he was the younger Sky Brother, ready to snap her iron chains and break her out of the cruel enslavement. He could do this, he had to do it. The Force was with him and had guided him on this path and his new circle of life started here on Tatooine with Shmi Skywalker’s name. He wondered if she knew what her name meant to his clan, that it marked her as a great warrior.

“I will guide you, Shmi Skywalker,” A’Sharad promised.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice just as strong as his.

She hesitated at first, but then gave the pouch to A’Sharad.

They bid Shmi’s friends goodbye as they made their way to the Builder that owned her. They didn’t speak a word for the entire journey, only when they arrived at a junkshop did A’Sharad saw it fit to talk again. Tuskens didn’t waste words. Their masks enabled them to speak, but it wasn’t pleasant in any form. Hence most of their stories being relayed through their sign language.

“I will free you,” A’Sharad said.

Shmi looked at him and nodded only slightly, then the two of them stepped through the entrance of the shop. Master Ki-Adi-Mundi stayed outside as not to attract attention of any kind. Inside the store, a Toydorian was flying around, counting his possessions. A’Sharad was glad that Shmi wouldn’t be a part of his calculations much longer. When he saw Shmi, his face twisted into an ugly snarl and A’Sharad knew that if he weren’t standing right beside her, the Toydorian would have said something as harsh a krayt’s claws.

Now, instead, he froze. He was undoubtedly aware of the danger he was in now. A’Sharad felt a grim satisfaction, the Builder deserved it.

“I want to buy your slave,” A’Sharad said.

“What?”

“I will not repeat myself. You will sell her to me.”

A’Sharad didn’t attempt to influence his mind, it wouldn’t work, but he could certainly outstubborn the Toydorian and let his reputation do the rest.

The Builder’s wings twitched nervously. “What do you want with her?”

“It does not matter.”

“It’s just that Shmi here is very dear to me… The price has to fit, I mean.”

A’Sharad wanted to take out his lightsaber and separate the Toydorian’s head from his torse. That too would be justice, but not the kind he could seek now. The way the Builder talked about Shmi was unacceptable, as if she weren’t there at all.

“I can pay,” A’Sharad replied merely. “So do business with me.”

Like all Builders, the Toydorian was a greedy creature, cruel and vicious. But A’Sharad had seen death and survived, haggling with such a bastard was nothing. After a discussion that felt much too long and too short at the same time, A’Sharad walked out of the store with a free woman.

“It is done?” Mundi asked when he spotted them.

A’Sharad wondered whether he had stood out in the sunlight waiting the whole time instead of searching for some shade.

“Yes,” A’Sharad replied. “She is freed and I have some money still over.”

“Well done, Padawan,” Mundi praised him. He gently put his hand on A’Sharad’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. The gesture reminded A’Sharad too much of his father so that for just one moment he resented it before accepting it as the support it was meant to be.

“Are you alright, Lady Skywalker?”

Shmi was still staring at the small black remote in her hand as if she couldn’t believe it. There was no telling how long she had been a slave for, but even just a minute in chains was a minute too long.

“Yes,” she answered. “Yes, I’m fine. I am… free.”

She began smile, happy, wide and mad like a spirit. Before A’Sharad could react, she pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. When she pulled away from him again, she wiped away the one lone tear that had rolled over her cheeks. With the very same thumb, she gently traced his right cheek. A’Sharad didn’t know the gesture, but he knew better than to disrupt it.

“I will not forget what you did for me,” Shmi said. “Jedi Mundi, I know I’m asking for a lot, but could you tell about my son? And give him a message from me?”

To A’Sharad it didn’t seem like Shmi was asking for much, but they had just freed her. She now had a whole galaxy to observe and travel if she so desired. It would take her time to figure out what her new limits were.

“Of course, Lady Skywalker,” Mundi assured her. “Nothing would please me more.”

Ki-Adi-Mundi was an honorable man. If A’Sharad followed his footsteps, he would certainly make his clan proud. And as Shmi Skywalker took her first steps into a world unbound, A’Sharad Hett set his compass anew and followed suit.

#star wars #ki adi mundi #a'sharad hett #shmi skywalker #fanfic

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spell-cleaver · 4 years

Note

Vader paced, desperate rage rising in his chest, even as his thoughts spun in a kaleidoscope of confusion, terror and the overwhelmingly horrifying realization that he would have to find a Jedi to teach his son.

Previous parts on the masterpost here!

He'd started pacing the moment he reached his quarters, the journey there from Luke's quarters nothing but a blur, but he was hyperaware of the clicking footsteps behind him the whole way. Now, they finally caught up, and Vader spun around to pace the length of his quarters one more time to come face to face with a determined Sabé.

He tried to look anywhere but at her: the blank white walls, the closed door to his personal medical bay, the ridiculous, inane furniture that he had to keep should he entertain guests and that more recently he had been hoping might entertain Luke. But she would not be denied.

"You know what I'm about to say," she informed him, crossing her arms across her chest. He scoffed, turned his back on her to resume his pacing, but she had the nerve to grab his arm. Grab his arm. "Luke—"

"I know," he hissed. "He will not train from me, so—" No, no, no, no, no... "So I... I will simply make sure that he—"

"Remains a fugitive from a ghost his whole life? Knowing that if he ever gets caught, he has no means of defending himself? Left vulnerable to not only metaphysical attacks, but also to every other sort of attack on him, as the Emperor, that being trained could help with—"

"I am not," Vader roared, yanking his arm away, "entrusting the fate of my son to a Jedi!"

Sabé's jaw trembled but she just glared up at him, unyielding. "Then you will lose him," she said, and her face wasn't hard, wasn't apathetic—it trembled with passion, and rage, and desperation that reminded Vader that she was desperate not to lose him too. "The Jedi will not hurt Luke, they wouldn't hold the sins of a father—of either father—against the son—"

"You have no idea what the Jedi are capable of."

"I know that it wasn't a Jedi who kidnapped Luke and raised him as a vessel!"

Vader straightened up. Sabé was taller than Luke, but both of them were so much shorter than him, and he wondered what sort of family he, Luke and Padmé might have made had they been given the chance.

"No," he shot back, enraged by the image and the fact that it would never come to pass, "but it was a Jedi who kidnapped Luke to raise him as a weapon!"

Sabé blinked. Vader glared.

"Palpatine told me that when he found Luke, his name was Luke Skywalker," he hissed. "That he had been living on Tatooine, with my mother's stepson and his wife. If Padmé is dead—if she was not looking after Luke, and died when— when—"

"When you strangled her?" Sabé asked, voice thick with disdain.

Vader froze. "How did you know that?"

Her face was impassive. "I didn't until you just confirmed it," she said grimly. "I just knew that she was supposedly choked to death by a Jedi, but you..." Her disgust rang in the Force—and so did something else.

"You're lying."

She blinked. "What are you talking about? I—"

"Padmé died on Mustafar," Vader declared hotly. "Yes, I know that, because I killed her."

"Do you regret it?"

"Do— what!?" He let his respirator take several breaths just to calm himself down. "Of course I regret it, you foolish woman. I have regretted it every moment of every day since I woke up to a galaxy without her. Especially since I found out about Luke."

Sabé blinked again. "Oh."

"But she did die," he continued. "She died on Mustafar, and Luke would have died with her. So there is only one possible explanation for the person who could have cut Luke out of her womb and spirited him away to Tatooine—far away from the Empire, where the Jedi could train him to be their weapon against us, but not far away enough!"

Sabé swallowed.

You were my brother, Anakin! Vader tried not to think. I loved you!

"The Jedi are deceptive, and cruel, and would absolutely separate a child from his father if they disapproved of that father."

"But they would not hurt that child!" She scoffed. "Are you worried that a Jedi would take Luke away from you?"

"How dare y—"

"Because I think," she informed him, rage crystallising in her eyes and making them spark all shades of brown, "that if it was to save Luke's life, they would be right to do so!"

Vader exploded.

Luke would hate him.

That was the thought in his mind a split second later, a split second in time: Luke would hate him if he killed Sabé.

Luke would hate him, and that was something he could not bear.

When he became aware of his surroundings again, that inane furniture was in splinters, some of which were embedded in the shell of his hyperbaric chamber, the door to his medbay had been blown open, but Sabé still stood—untouched and ferocious.

"And I think," he continued, voice low and deadly, "that you are a Rebel and a traitor."

She snorted. "We are all aware of the charges levelled against me when Palpatine wanted me gone, Lord Vader."

"I am not talking about that. Those charges were an attempt to rid Luke of his anchor, the one person who loved him." Sabé frowned, and Vader was suddenly aware of the way his voice had broken on that last part. "You are genuinely a Rebel, and a traitor, and you conspired with Obi-Wan Kenobi to steal my son in the first place."

"I did no such thing. Any involvement I had with the Jedi—"

"Is declared loud and clear by the strength of your mental shields. You did not have those during the Clone Wars."

"The person who taught me my shields," Sabé snapped, "was no Jedi."

"Nevertheless. You are a Rebel."

"By that, do you mean that I have always hated the Empire, and always wanted to see the Republic that I and my lady fought so hard to protect return?" She lifted his chin. "Of course. Padmé would be disgusted to see what you have wrought here."

"Do not presume—" Vader lifted his hand, clenched it into a fist and lowered it again. "You knew exactly who my son was, and you knew he survived the death of his mother."

"A friend of mine, and of Padmé's told me. Someone on Naboo needed to know. And when I heard that that child had been taken in by Palpatine, I was not going to leave him to the Emperor's tender mercies. I did not know who you were, Anakin, and my only thought was to keep her son safe."

"A friend?" Vader snorted, thought over it only briefly... and he knew exactly who. "So. Bail Organa is conspiring with the Jedi and the Rebellion?"

Sabé's politician's face held true, as it had when she was lying, but the slightest widening of her eyes gave her away.

Vader said smugly, "I will make sure he is made an example of."

"If you touch him," Sabé said, "his daughter, Princess Leia Organa..." She nearly said something, then paused, then continued. "...will return to Alderaan. And, in all likelihood, not visit Coruscant again."

He scoffed. "Why would that make any difference to me?"

"Because she is Luke's friend."

He froze.

"And that would upset Luke."

He jabbed a finger at her. "You—"

She met his glare head on.

He released a sharp sigh out of sync with his respirator and marched around the room, using the Force to toss furniture debris out of his way.

"This is all irrelevant," she called after him. "And you know it. The fact remains that you have to let a Jedi train Luke, and you are grasping at straws in your desperation to deny it."

"Luke will not train with a Jedi," he seethed. "He will not. They would only teach him weakness, they would only hinder him, and turn him against—" He cut himself off.

Sabé raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Turn him against whom?" He said nothing. "Against you?"

Just like Padmé.

"No Jedi are needed for that," she informed him. "You seem to have done it perfectly well yourself."

You have done that yourself!

Vader clamped down on his rage this time. He could explode when she was away. When she was gone.

"I can protect Luke," he insisted, clenching his fists. "I could have saved Padmé. I can save Luke now. He does not need training, and when he finally decides that he does want it, when he trusts me enough to, he—"

"You can tell yourself whatever you want." The rage and fervour was gone from her voice now. Now it was just passionless, emotionless, and there was no escaping the terrible ring of truth. "But your justifications will mean nothing when you look into Luke's eyes, when you hear Luke's voice, and know irrevocably that your son is gone and your master has returned."

Vader stood there for long, long minutes. The rasping of his respirator was the only sound in the room.

"Contact your precious Jedi," he said finally. "Find one of them you trust, and bring them here to train Luke. Only one of them. I will allow them one week, and if they incur my displeasure, I will remove their head from their shoulders."

Sabé's brows twitched. "Charming," was all she said, but her triumphant smile said everything else.

Send me the first sentence of a scene from this AU and I’ll continue it!

Beginning | Previous | Next

#luke palpatine #darth vader #sabé #my writing #random words on a page

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redrobinhoood · 4 years

Text

no choir | chapter 4, some vast unnameable fear

AO3 Link | 2100 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Riyo learns what happened at the Jedi Temple from an unexpected guest.

CW: Psychological Trauma, Brief Mentions of Graphic Imagery

Riyo had been staring out the window at the billowing smoke for hours when she heard the door to her apartment slide open. She leapt off the couch to see Fox enter, practically dragging Commander Thire with him. She let out a cry of relief and ran to him, wrapping her arms around both of them in her haste.

“I thought you were dead.” She cried as she pulled away, checking over Fox’s armor for any sign of injury.

Fox reached over to caress her face, the other hand supporting Thire against his shoulder. “I’m okay, Riyo. I was in a transport the whole time, never got involved in the skirmish. But Thire…can I set him on your couch?”

"Yeah, yeah of course.” She moved to Thire’s other side and slipped his arm over her shoulders, following Fox’s lead to her couch. Even when fully supported by the two of them, Thire was shaking. She stepped back after helping Fox set him down, unsure of what boundaries to cross. Of course she knew Thire, but not in the way that she knew Jek and Rys. And he was a commander now. Untouchable. Then again, so was Fox.

Having set Thire down, Fox removed his helmet to reveal drying tear tracks across his cheeks. He gave Riyo a sad, reassuring smile, then knelt down in front of Thire to remove his helmet as well. Riyo wished he hadn’t. In the time she’d known Thire she’d never seen him helmetless without dark bags under his eyes, but now his eyes were hollow and unfocused. He reminded her too much of what Fox had looked like after the fall of the Republic. Fox began to disassemble Thire’s gauntlets and Riyo’s stomach turned as blood dripped from Thire’s gloves onto the white comm-unit on Fox’s arm. After Thire’s gauntlets had been removed, Fox removed his own then moved to sit next to Thire on the couch. He pulled Thire into his arms, placing Thire’s head on his shoulder and leaning his own head against him as he began to mutter something in Mando’a. Riyo recognized the pose as the one Fox had taken her into that morning. She sat down on Thire’s other side and began to rub his back as Fox had for her. She didn’t know if he could feel it under the armor, but she didn’t know what else to do.

After a few minutes of quiet reassurances, Fox looked over to her. “I’m so sorry, Ri. I didn’t have anywhere else to take him.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay. Not the intrusion, if it could even be called such, but that Fox had nowhere else to go. Once upon a time, he could have taken Thire back to the barracks, when the commanders had had their own room. With the Empire, that privacy was gone.

Thire muttered something that she couldn’t make out.

“No.” Fox protested.

“I found him. I saved him. This is all my fault.”

“It was not your fault, Thire.”

“If I hadn’t found him on Mustafar how many beings would still be alive, Fox? How many brothers would still be alive?” Riyo’s hand on Thire’s back stilled as she tried to take in the conversation.

“You can’t think that way.”

“It could’ve been you. It could’ve been your ship he chose.”

“But it wasn’t.” Fox snapped. “It wasn’t my ship, and it sure as hell isn’t your fault.”

“It should’ve been me. I gave the order. I should have gone with them. I should be dead too.”

“No.” Fox pulled Thire tighter against his chest, the plastoid between them squeaking with the motion. “Don’t think like that.” He begged. The three beings sat in silence for a few minutes until Fox spoke again. “Riyo, go to bed. You need to sleep.”

He was right. The numbness that had filled her inside as she stared out the window was gone and the adrenaline rush that had come upon her when she saw Fox had faded away, leaving drowsiness in its wake. She nodded and rose from the couch. “Let me bring a blanket in here.”

“Ri, we don’t usually sleep with blankets.”

“Well, I do.” She walked away before she could catch Fox’s reaction. When she returned with the comforter from her bed he was taking Thire’s boots off, having already removed his own. She set the comforter across the back of the couch and pulled the back cushions off. Before Fox could protest she slid into the void the cushions had left with the comforter in hand. “Lay down.” She ordered.

Wordlessly, Fox lay down beside her, pulling Thire down with him so that the other man lay across his chest. Riyo draped the blanket over the three of them then pressed herself against Fox’s side, resting her head against his pauldron. She could still smell the blood on Thire’s gloves, and ash from Fox’s armor, but she refused to leave Fox until the sun rose again. Eventually, she found herself slipping into an uneasy sleep.

---

Fox listened as Riyo’s breathing deepened and slowed into sleep. Thire was soon behind her, still pressed against Fox’s chest. Fox had never encountered Thire on Kamino, but they had all learned the same comfort mechanisms from each other. He tried to follow them into sleep, sometimes falling into a light doze, but the mangled bodies of his brothers still filled his head. Vader had told him that it had been Jocasta Nu’s doing, that she had flung his brothers from the transport in a fit of fury upon capture. But when he had found Thire kneeling over Rys’ broken body he’d had a very different story. Vader.

When dawn came, it found Fox awake. With the light of the sun peaking over the horizon and into the wide window of the living room it wasn’t long before Thire stirred in his arms, followed shortly by Riyo against his side. Fox watched Thire’s eyes open and flit around the living room.

“This isn’t the barracks.” He managed.

“No.” Fox agreed.

“You brought me to Senator Chuchi’s apartment. This is Senator Chuchi’s blanket.”

“Yeah.” Fox heard Riyo trying to stifle a light laugh into his shoulder. It didn’t work and he felt Thire tense up in his arms. “And that’s Senator Chuchi.”

Thire uttered a stream of curses that would have made any Kaminoan blush as he untangled himself from the blanket and stood up. Fox followed quickly after him and grabbed his shoulders before he could walk away. “Thire, how much do you remember from last night?”

Thire turned back to face him. “We went to the Temple, to lock it down. It worked, we caught the Jedi and Lord Vader took her away.”

“And after that?” Fox prompted.

“I briefed the Emperor about, about something.” He paused, blinking rapidly for a few moments, then looked at the dried blood on his gloves. “We were attacked?”

“No, Thire, no.” Fox pulled his little brother into his arms and held him for a moment before stepping back. “I want you to take a shower and change into fresh blacks, okay? Then we’ll talk. That’s an order.” He led Thire to the shower by his arm and left him with the spare pair of blacks Fox now kept in the apartment. When he came back to Riyo, she was in the kitchen making a pot of caf. She looked just as tired as he felt. He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek on her hair.

“What’s going on, Fox?” She asked after a few moments.

He almost lied to her. Just some nasty business with the Jedi, it’s all over now.

“I think we lost the war, Ri.” He leaned back, keeping his arms locked around her hips, focusing his gaze on her lips and not her eyes. He couldn’t bear to see his own fear reflecting back at him from her soul. “This is not the future that my brothers died for.” They hadn’t died just so they could continue to be slaughtered at the hands of the men in command.

“Fox. That’s treason.” Her lips moved as if she wanted to say more, but she fell silent. He pulled her back into his arms.

“Probably.” He admitted. Two days ago, he would’ve arrested anyone who voiced the same thoughts he had now. But the shadow, Darth Vader, he had wielded a lightsaber with the same blade as Count Dooku once had. The Emperor would have to be warned of the infiltration into their government, he’d have to see that he’d been a pawn for some greater unknown entity. “Not a word to anyone else, okay? The Emperor’s life could be in danger. Let me handle this.”

“He’s lucky to have you watching his back.” Riyo jumped in his arms at the sound of a throat clearing across the room. She quickly composed herself and pulled away from Fox, stepping back to the now finished pot of caf. “Caf, Thire?”

“Thank you, but I can’t accept, Senator.” Thire made his way cautiously across the room, stopping to lean against the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. “I really should be going.”

“Nonsense. As your commanding officer, you must stay.” Fox passed a mug of black caf to Thire. Neither of them could stand the sweet milks that most beings preferred to mix with the drink. It was a frequent, meaningless argument that he often had with Riyo. “I still need to debrief you.”

Thire reluctantly took the mug from Fox. “What is there to debrief?”

Fox looked to Riyo first. She was frozen by his side, hair still puffy from sleep, eyes fixed on his. He knew she worried for him; he knew she would worry more if she learned that the shadow from her nightmare had descended upon Coruscant. But the small lies he told her left a bitter taste on his tongue, and this was one lie that would be found out later if told. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked back to Thire. “Darth Vader killed an entire transport of men last night.”

“How do you know?”

“You told me.”

“When?” Thire scoffed.

“When you were kneeling over the body of your batchmate.” It was cruel. It was very cruel. Fox could feel Riyo’s hand pressing against his stomach. Thire looked down at his hands. They were clean now, but Fox knew that they would have been stained brown just a few minutes ago. Fox continued. “You saw them fall.”

Thire pressed his hands against the back of his head and lay his forehead on the cold stone of the bar. “You’re lying.”

"You’re being manipulated. You know who Vader is and he’s trying to cover it up.”

“If he was trying to cover anything up, he’d kill me.” Thire snapped. “Yes, I know who he is, I saved his damn life, but he has never been anything but honest with me.”

“He killed our men, our brothers, and you’re defending him? He’s a traitor to the Empire.”

“I’d rather serve him than the Emperor.” Thire brought his head back up to look Fox in the eye. “It was the headaches at first, then migraines, now I can’t remember almost anything I’ve done over the past few months. I remember the gala and the assassination attempt. I remember that Lor Hano died, but I can’t remember how he died or how I know that. The clearest thing in my mind since then is the day we carried out order sixty-six and I hunted down the first being who saw me as an individual being and not a clone. I don’t remember whose command I was following but I followed it. I don’t even remember if we found him.”

“You didn’t.” Riyo spoke up. “I heard from one of my colleagues that he escaped.”

Thire’s shoulders dropped a little bit as some tension left his body.

“Why didn’t you tell me, or Stone?” Fox asked.

“I couldn’t. Serving the Chancellor was an honor. And if I gave in or cracked then he would have gone back to you, Fox. We’d have all lost you and I could never take you away from Riyo. I know about you two. I think I’ve always known, since the gala. That’s why I put you on her security detail when you were healing. I’ve lost a lot in my life, but I think that if I can save you it would all be worth it.”

“That shouldn’t be your burden.” It was all Fox could say. He couldn’t move. He felt his arm hit his side as Riyo pulled away from his and crossed the kitchen to wrap her arms around Thire’s shoulders. She was saying something to him that Fox couldn’t make out. He was going to find the being manipulating Thire, manipulating the Emperor, maybe even manipulating Vader. That being was going to pay for their crimes. Fox would make them pay.

#foxiyo #commander fox #cc-1010 #riyo chuchi #commander thire #my fics #no choir fic

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jjonyangdan · 4 years

Text

[ oneus / kim youngjo (ravn) ] ; fluff | 1.2k words

↪ a date with youngjo and fireworks.

Once in every quarter or so, they’d be a seasonal festival down at the park near your home. There would be various stalls comprising a variety of snacks and beverages to satiate famished individuals, stands for trying your luck at prizes, several amusement attractions such as a small ferris wheel and a merry-go-round, and vibrant fireworks to conclude the memorable night—usually most aspects of a typical festival.

Oneus, the group your boyfriend Youngjo is in, have completed their promotions for their latest comeback and were awarded a short respite for their hard work. When Youngjo told you of this news, you immediately posed the preposition for them to visit the festival that would run throughout the day and late into the night. And of course, they all were boisterously set on the suggestion. So, several days later, you find yourself at the local festival with your beau and his friends.

Everyone mostly split off into different sections; Keonhee, Leedo and Xion eager to indulge in the festival’s refreshments while Hwanwoong and Seoho were more keen to explore the place itself first before embarking on some of the thrill rides it offered. It left you remaining with Youngjo, which you definitely didn’t mind. Perhaps they all did it intentionally so you both could spend quality, cozy time together. You assume this because they surely weren’t discreet about leaving you two alone; voices different in pitch and the not so subtle shared glances, smiles and jabs.

“What do you want to do first?” your boyfriend asks from beside you, dark brown eyes surveying the area and the people strewn around before resting back on you. The afternoon sun showers his features in warmth, making his cheeks gracefully glow where he slightly squints under the orbs scrutiny. “Are you hungry?”

You shake your head in response. “I’ve eaten breakfast this morning.” Your head tilts in contemplation before you lightly crane your neck to look up to him. “We could just explore first and see what we like before deciding. Unless you’re hungry?”

“I’ll be full watching you enjoy yourself,” he returns, a smile following and playfulness in his eyes.

Breathing a laugh in incredulity, you fight back the urge to lightheartedly roll your eyes at his antics. “Okay then, flirt. Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? I think I saw something you’d like over there...”

He answers by interlacing your fingers together, eyes fondly peering into yours before meandering further into the festival with you close to his side and ensuring his hold doesn't loosen on you for he doesn’t wish to let you slip out of his sight. “Then lead the way.”

The day soon dwindles into dusk and then completely into night. The amount of visitors the festival contained has increased, cheerful banter and exuberant children scampering around. The midnight sea flowing above is ornamented by loud, coruscant lights effused by the event’s attractions instead of the sight of the natural specks of argent.

Gravel crunches underneath the soles of your shoe, trailing after the movement of your feet as you tread with purpose. One of your hands are still weaved with Youngjo’s, while your other arm is enveloping a Mickey Mouse plush he tenaciously tussled for and was ultimately honoured with for his perseverance which he then didn’t hesitate to give you with a triumphant beam.

Yes, you’re immensely grateful, but there’s a wave of trivial hesitation within your chest. You both know he’s not entirely adept at these kinds of activities (well, that’s what he believes anyway). Nonetheless, he’s worked so hard to attain it, countless dollars out of his own pocket, only to present the prize to you without a reward for his own hard efforts. He simply stated seeing your joyful smile was enough of a payment, knowing just how much you adore the very character.

You did endeavour to win a prize for him but with even more horrendous skills over his own, it was all fruitless in the end and you settled on buying snacks and drinks after numerous coaxing from your boyfriend. And still not satisfied, you’ve settled on purchasing animal ear headbands for you both, matching Mickey and Minnie mouse ones, snapping many photos together.

You’re both currently stationed in a line, queing up for the ferris wheel. There’s going to be a fireworks show in a couple of minutes and you’ve both decided beforehand to try and view them on the mini ride to have a chance to view most of the colourful explosions. Youngjo has his arms encasing you from behind and has you drawn against his chest, sharing warmth as the winds have shifted to a more colder tone, and his chin is snuggly sitting atop your head.

“I hope we get a good view of the fireworks at the top!” you say with a hopeful glimmer in your (e/c) orbs as you gaze up at the brightly lit attraction.

He hums in agreement, a soft smile dashed across his face as he gently rocks side-to-side with you. “It’ll be really romantic.”

Giggling, you tilt your head back enough to look into his eyes and straighten your pose so you can land a fluttery peck against his lips. There’s a loving look adorning his features, heart palpitating against your back, and he’s tightening his hold on you with immeasurable affection. Soon the line moves and it’s your turn and you’re settled in one of the pastel capsules, the attendant ensuring the door is securely fastened in place before the circuit begins.

There’s a bang followed by cries and cheers of fascination and awe. With a look through the bars of the passenger car, you notice that there are vibrant spheres shooting high in the sky before bursting into dazzling ribbons; the sight reflected in your eyes and your gasp of amazement following. It’s always a superb spectacle to witness, no matter the amount of times the beholder has watched such displays. There’s something warm and uplifting about listening to the crackle of fireworks bursting and admiring how the sparks trail off in different directions, a toasty and homely feel to it like when you’re with the ones dear to your heart.

“It’s so pretty…”

Youngjo hums, quietly admiring the display himself. “But do you know what else is just as pretty?”

“What, are you going to say yourself or something?” You snicker, knowing how he’d commonly use the adjective to describe himself.

“Well, yes, I am pretty. Thank you,” he agrees without a pang of shame, a chuckle following your small giggles. “But I was thinking about someone else.” His hand squeezes yours as he leans closer toward you, closing the small gap that separated you both on the seat.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him, having an inkling of what his next words could be.

“You.”

Heart pounding in your ears, you instinctively flutter your eyes shut as he fills the emptiness with his presence and his soft lips smoothly press themselves on your own. He has an arm slung around your shoulders, propping you against him, the curve of his mouth never lifting away from yours.

High up on the ferris wheel with radiant fireworks as the backdrop framing your figures tenderly in love and being able to experience it all with Youngjo by your side—there could be no other better moment to finish the night off.

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