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that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

My Love| Echo pt 3

Note: i'll edit this later, my mouth hurts from wisdom teeth removal but wanted to get it out for you.

Warnings: No real warnings, but there is a semi spicey scene and mentions of nudity towards the end, but doesnt go into too far of detail. And Echo's legs are cannoned a bit lower than tcw meaning yes Echos got an ass, but his legs and thighs stuff like that are still metal so

Reader: Male

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.5 | 4 | 5 | 6

Master list

Y/n watched the boys try there food. They're faces lighting up as the room became silent, people busy digging into there food.

Y/n ate his own, his hand on Echo's thigh under the table, Echo's leg touching Y/n's.

"Ma'm this is way way! Better than rations!" Wrecker cheered.

"Im glad you like it so much, so tell me boys. What brought you over here?" Margie asked.

Hunter swallowed his food, "well we wanted to meet Echo's boyfriend Ma'm, we had no idea they had been dating for so long."

It was lucky for the group that talked they stayed together, near the head of the table where Margie sat, a small kid or two down from her.

"Echo's been nothing but a delight. To both my son and my family." Margie praised, "he's a good kid, Im assuming he gets it from his older brothers?"

"Oh...uh." Hunter spoke.

"He's older than us." Crosshair responded for the group.

"Oh?" She smiled, "you learn something new every day."

She looked at Y/n who nodded and smiled, "Yep."

"So where are you boys staying?" She asked.

Oh shit. Was the only thing Echo could think of. His brothers? Staying here?

"Oh we have our own place." Tech responded, "We live in a building complex called the Marauder."

Well that was a lie.

"Wait. Isn't that the name-" Y/n was cut off when Hunter kicked him.

"Ow.."

"Sorry. Foot must've slipped." Hunter responded his head slightly jolting towards the side, Echo was lost in his food, eating small spoon fulls, he was listening inteny even though he tried to cover his easedropping up.

"Oh! Yeah!" Y/n chuckled, Echo's frame slightly picking up.

"Oh. Nice place then?" Margie spoke.

"Oh..uh yeah. Decent..just a bit cramped but we don't mine." Hunter told, "we do alot of delivering off world too, so we work a decent amount...Echo! Echo here works the hardest. He may not be the strongest but he sure knows how to uh-"

"Pack a crate! And log the ports data. He's also a skilled mechanic!" Wrecker joined in.

What were they doing? Fake Prasing him? Why?

She smiled, "You boys seem like you like your jobs."

The boy's nodded, Y/n watched as Tech, Hunter and Wrecker hyped up Echo. The boy's trying to support Echo, "and you? Crosshair was it?"

Crosshair stopped from putting a spoonful in his mouth, "Oh. I.-" he looked at Echo infront of him, "I have a long way to go, a lot to learn."

"The youngest then?" She questioned.

"Yeah..." Crosshair responded bringing the food to his mouth.

"That's a sweet little bussniess you all have then," she congratulated, "We'd have to work with you one day, we have a business of our own."

"What's the bussniess if I may ask?" Tech questioned.

"Well our main bussniess is a food bussniess, you know selling buying, producing, but recently we've started a non-profit organization for battle droids."

"For battle droids? Clankers?" Wrecker asked.

"Thats what them clone boys call them," She smiled, "we basically rehab them, and send them back into the world, most as servants, translators. Small things."

"That's uh well..."

"I know I know. But here we believe that everything stands a chance." She contuined, "Echo has helped us alot on efficent repairs."

Echo nodded as he put a spoonful in his mouth.

"We have one that takes care of the animals in the small barn." Margie told, "Y/n! Have you showed them the animals dear?"

"No ma. This is only the second room they been in." Y/n informed.

"How dare you not give them a tour!" His mother spoke fake harshly, Y/n chuckling his mom soon following after.

"Oh mommy dearest I ask your humble apologies even though I don't deserve it. I suppose I'll sleep outside in the barn."

The two laughed as they smiled at one another.

"I'll show them around afterwords. Prepaired for your world to be rocked." He told the boys infront of him.

"Well I welcome you to the family boys. Its always a pleasure to have another few join the bunch!" She cheered.

"Thank you." Hunter spoke.

She smiled for a final time return to her food as did the others, small talk. Kids started asking to be excused, when excused they took there dishes and walked into the kitchen to clean there dishes and put them on the drying racks.

Echo finished before Y/n asking to be excused he got up with his dishes and went to clean them. Wrecker asked next, he being excused as he grabbed his own things and left.

Echo was along cleaning his dishes, his plate flat in the sink as he scrubbed the plate with one hand.

"Wanna hand?"

Echo turned his head, "oh. No. Im good."

Echo turned back towards his plates.

"Echo. Im. Im sorry." Wrecker apologized, "he's better than any lady you could date."

"Oh. Uh." Echo spoke, "thanks..."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Wrecker told him.

Echo frowned, "I. I know Wrecker. I shouldn't of yelled at you."

"We've should of waited for you to explain."

Putting his dishes on the drying rack he turned to Wrecker who stood next to him, Wrecker's dishes sat on the counter patiently waiting for his turn.

"It's. Okay." Echo responded, "I, I forgive you, at the end of the day. I'm the only one dating him. Right?"

Wrecker smiled, "So. We're okay?"

Echo nodded, quickly being picked up in a hug as he chuckled, patting Wrecker's shoulder.

"Now do your dishes before Y/n's mom cuts your head off." Echo joked waving smally to him.

Echo walked back out, going down the hall and too the living room, the room filled with silence as he collected the cups from eariler.

Bent over setting all the cups down accordingly there was a whistle, a soft one, not loud enough for anyone to hear if they weren't in the room.

"Would you look at that ass." Y/n spoke, Echo standing straight as he turned around, "aren't you a gifted fellow?"

Echo chuckled, "You should be careful what you say in here."

It was Y/n's turn to chuckle.

"Why's that?"

"Why do you think?" Echo questioned as he watched Y/n walk forward, grabbing his hips and pulling Echo closer.

"All I do is tell the truth," Y/n smiled.

Echo's arms drapped on Y/n's shoulder's, Y/n holding his hips.

"Now this is something we shouldn't be doing in here." Y/n teased.

Echo smiled, "One kiss never hurt anyone?"

"Oh?"

Y/n smiled, leaning down kissing Echo. His hand running through Y/n's hair, Y/n pulled away from Echo, foreheads resting on one another.

"I love you." Y/n told him.

"I love you too." Echo smiled.

Y/n pulled him into a short kiss, "You wanna sit on my lap again baby?"

"Gladly-" Echo was cut off again with a kiss, a chuckle filling his mouth from Y/n.

"Get a damn room!"

Y/n pulled away, glaring at the teen.

"Well Enzo. I am in a room! So get out of it!" Y/n argued, Echo's head in Y/n's shoulder.

"Well mom wants you to give those guys a tour." Enzo responded.

"Alright." Y/n spoke, turning back to Echo, "Later baby."

Echo was give a kiss on the lips, Y/n grabbed the tray.

"I can do that," Echo spoke stopping Y/n.

"How about you can do this one day, when we have our own home." Y/n spoke, "you know when we're married and have a little farm."

Echo flushed deeply, a farm? With him and Y/n all by themselves? Sounded...sounded. amazing.

Y/n pulled away from him tray in hand, "come on let's give that tour."

Echo followed Y/n dropping off the tray and then taking the boys around, introducing them to all the kids, big, medium small to twilek, zabrack, human to torguata. All of diffrent personalities. Some reading on there bed, some working out, some listening to music, others playing with dolls and action figures.

And then there was his room, nothing special, Echo and his favorite record in sitting still as the song had finished, a box of records tucked under the small table the record player sat on. The sheets a dark purple his pillow cases a matching dark blue a window at the far end.

"Please come in." Y/n responded offering them to come in and look around.

They filed in, the room fitting all them comfortably.

"It's quiet simple," Tech explained, "Your personality is a bit more bubbly so I was expecting something wild."

"Like that?" Crosshair questioned.

"Like what?" Tech responded turning around to face the wall behind them.

The wall was filled with photos, drawings and dried flowers, a vintage theme, branching off into its sub groups.

"There it is." Tech repsonded adjusting his glasses.

"Please feel free to look around." Y/n responded.

Crosshair stood next to Wrecker as they looked at the photos.

"Hey! It's Echo! Look!" Wrecker cheered as Crosshair peered over, the photo of Echo asleep on the couch, kids knocked out with him, "and Kamino!"

"How's you get a picture of Kamino?" Hunter questioned now also looking at the photos.

"Echo here got it for me." Y/n smiled as Echo rubbed the back of his head, "Its not just my memories up there- Hey! Lets get our own photo up there!"

Y/n got up going over to his desk as he lifted the top up pulling the old porloroid out.

"Echo." Crosshair spoke as the clone came over, "wanna explain this one?"

Echo looked at the photo, he clearly knocked out in Y/n's bed, his back bare hinting towards what had happened before hand, the blanket covering to his mid back and down, his arms tucked under a pillow permentatly fluffing it up as his cheek was baired into it.

"Not bad." Crosshair spoke nudging his brother, he was trying.

"Here is is new film and all." Y/n smiled going towards the group, "Come on! Gather around."

Y/n smiled as the group akwardly grouped together infront of the window. Looking at the group he rushed over, pushing them closer together.

"It'll be on a timer so I only have a few seconds." Y/n told them walking back over, "ready?"

"Uh sure?"

Y/n quickly pushed the button rushing over to the group, he quickly stood next to Echo. There was a click as Y/n rushed back over. The photo coming out the bottom as Tech rushed over intrested.

"Oh nice its comin through already." Y/n smiled, soon waving the square around as he walked over to his desk picking out a red and black thumb tack.

"Hmm..." y/n spoke rushing over to the wall looking around, "hah! Echo come here! Help me put this up."

Echo walked over as the boys watched him hand Echo the image and tack.

"See right there." Y/n pointed a spot above the door, dead center towards the ceiling.

"We'll move this one." Y/n said pulling up an old photo besides the light switch "up there."

Handing Echo the old photo they swapped Y/n pinning the new one with the group with a smile.

"Ready?"

"Yeah-"

Echo was grabbed by the legs, Y/n picking him up as Y/n grabbed the back off his thighs.

"A bit higher." Echo spoke as Y/n pulled his arms back, tight on Echo's thighs he pushed the clone upward, his thighs now trapping Y/n's face as Y/n's hands vanished behind Echo's kama skirt.

"Got it?" Y/n asked his chin resting at Echo's belt.

"Yeah." Echo spoke, his face red as he cleared his throat.

"Ready?'

"No- Y/n-" He spoke as Y/n laughed walking towards his bed, "Y/n! Y/n! I'll kill you don't- Ah!-"

Y/n tossed the trooper on the bed he bouncing as he let out a grunt, Y/n only chuckled turning back towards the boys, "come on i'll show you that barn they were talking about."

Y/n lead the boys along to the backyard, showing them the small barn his father worked on fixing a small animals leg, waving a B-1 droid showed up in a happy matter the others ready to fight.

"Master Y/n!"

"Please Y/n is fine B." Y/n smiled, "Boys this is B. He helps with the animals."

With an akward introduction the batchers kept there distance, but with the end of the small barn came the end of the tour. It now late in the hours of the day as the boys made there way our. Excusing themselves for the night.

"You'll have to come back." Y/n smiled.

"If its okay with Echo and your mother. " Hunter spoke, "and you of course."

"We'd be delighted to have you again." Y/n smiled, "Please. Come anytime with Echo. Or by yourselves. We're open doors."

Hunter nodded, the batch saying there goodbyes and thanks once more. They started there way away from the home, Tech staying back, "I suppose not all regs are regular after all. And that's good."

With his last comment Tech rushed to join the others.

Echo stayed behind with Y/n who smiled as the boys vanished.

"Now. That we're. Alone." Y/n teased.

"Alone? Really in this house?" Echo teased back.

Y/n chuckled, "as alone as we can be."

Echo smiled as Y/n closed the door.

"I'll go make some more milk and honey, you. Go get ready to cuddle." Y/n ordered playfully.

"Thats something I can do."

Him and Y/n unfortunately went separate ways, Y/n cleaning the cups and pot setting them to dry as one of the old B-1 droids would put the mass of dishes away during the night.

He pulled out another pot, putting it on the stove filled with the sweet liquid he wipped the tray clean, putting a fresh set of cookies on a small plate and two cups. Just in time as the pot started to whistle, pulling it off the stove he turned the gas off and went to his room.

Holding the tray in one hand he opened his door, "hey hope you didn't miss me too..."

Y/n's frame filling the door way, but froze seeing Echo's bare back facing him, a blanket sat high waisted on him as Y/n quickly stepped in, quiet with his steps he locked the door behind him, Echo now standing up and facing Y/n the blanket still around his waist.

"I uh..." Echo responded with a flush, "thought...you might like this first..."

Y/n flushed as Echo dropped the blanket, setting the tray on the nearest surface big enough, the floor flush against the wall besides the door, he walked over, kicking his shoes off in the process.

"Baby you have no idea how much I like this." Y/n told him, Echo's gaze away.

Maker. Y/n took his thumb to Echo's chin, Y/n's soft skin lightly tapping up Echo's chin to look up at him. Holding Echo's chin in place with his thumb and index finger Y/n smiled smally, his eyes filled with love for the pale male infront of him.

"Y/n. I..." Echo trailed off.

"Shh..." Y/n hushed softly, his thumb running down Echo's lip and back to his chin, "You don't have to say anything..."

Echo raised on his toes, leaning up to kiss Y/n, Y/n leaned down, the first kiss was almost shy, there lips only pressing together in sweet presence of one another. The small kiss leaving Echo breathless. They pulled away shortly. Another one soon be initiated, Y/n nudging Echo to sit down softly, he following Echo's movements, Y/n sitting besides him, the kissing barely any more intense, Echo swinging a leg over Y/n's straddling the taller male.

Y/n held the small of Echo's back, the two's makeout session growing in heat as Y/n's hands running down Echo's back and to his ass, where he gladly let his hands rest of Echo's warm skin while they kissed.

It was soon for breathe they pulled away, Y/n attaching himself to Echo's neck. Echo's hand through Y/n's hair as he hummed against Echo's pale skin, earing a soft mewel.

"Y/n...take me...take me away..." Echo whispered, Y/n laying Echo down on his back, his lips never movinv from Echo's shoulder.

"Take me away...Y/n..." Echo meweled softly, the words spilling from Echo's vocal cords once again.

Y/n stopped momentarily to lean up into Echo's ear, "only if I can come along baby..."

The night was filled with passion, hair being pulled in pleasure, moans dripping off each others lips, ripped from there vocal cords in call for the other one. Pleads drawn from the bottom as Echo left a few new scratch marks on Y/n's back, along with a line of hickeys following Y/n's collar blade to sholder. Y/n did the same, leaving hickies along Echo's body, where skin met metal.

Echo laid flat on his stomach now, his head turned towards Y/n. Y/n held a stupid large smile on his face, his finger's interlaced with Echo's.

"That was somethin else babe." Y/n told him softly, "Parched after the time of your life?"

Echo chuckled as Y/n pulled himself up, and out of bed. Echo receiving a pleasent veiw of Y/n's behind with one side having present marks, they currently defined and fresh, marks both darker and lighter spotted Y/n's back, mostly towards his shoulder and nape of his neck.

Echo watched Y/n pick up the tray and make his way back to the bed setting it on the nightstand, climbing back in the covers as Echo nuzzle up to Y/n.

"Clingy now are we? Let me pour you a cup atleast." Y/n chuckled.

Pouring them both cups Echo was handed one cold cup, "Thanks."

"Mhmm," Y/n acknowledged the two cuddled up, "shame its cold. Must sat for too long, needy thing arent you?"

Echo flustered, but took a risk himself, "Could still be longer."

"Oh? And what are you gonna do that I haven't done to you?" Y/n teased, Echo took a heavy drink, hoping it would bring him energy later taking Y/n's he sat it on the nightstand next to his own side of the bed.

Echo pushed Y/n onto the bed flat, the covers still hiding Y/n's lower half.

"I haven't rode you." Echo told boldly.

Y/n smirked up at him, "You're right you haven't,"

Echo's leg's swinging over Y/n, "Think you can handle me?" Echo questioned.

Y/n chuckled, "Baby you have no idea what I'd endure for you." Y/n sat up, holding Echo's face with a hand.

"Lets see then." Echo responded Y/n biting his lip as he pushed the covers down with a foot.

Y/n was pulled into a kiss, his hands running up and down Echo's back as Echo pushed him to the bed, the kiss never breaking.

Read the Next Part here if you like smut or stay generally sfw here

#star wars #the bad batch #sw: tbb #star wars: the bad batch #echo tbb #tbb echo #echo x male reader #star wars echo #bad batch echo #the bad batch echo #echo the bad batch #x male reader #lil smutty my bad #oof #i liked how this turned out

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

Note

*whispers* if youre taking spicy prompts, may i suggest impotent!obi-wan + prostate stimulation for obikin please? Only if youre okay with it!!! I cannot thank you enough for all the chocolate cakes and sincerely wish you to be happy. thank you again and again and again!!!

soooooooooo i originally planned for this be for Sunday, but it’s really more ~feelings~ and dealing with a rough spot than just spicy. (Though, it is not safe for wizards, to be clear). It’s just not predominantly spicy. SO. I’m, uh... posting it now, instead? It also got longer than I expected.

Obikin, established relationship. Not safe for wizards. Implications of past torture. Set sometime during the Clone Wars. Starts tense, ends well.

~~~~~~~~~~

They’d been together - whatever that meant, for them, at any given time - for an embarrassing stretch of time before Anakin noticed that he’d never properly touched Obi-Wan. In his defense, they’d spent the majority of that time deployed on one planet or another, not always together, even.

It was a weak defense, as such things went. He should have noticed sooner. It was just that….Obi-Wan always had an excuse, a reason to bolt away as soon as Anakin’s hands wandered southward, or if Anakin tried to tug at his waistband, or if he pressed too close, or--

The realization that he - actually - had no idea if Obi-Wan even wanted him hit while Obi-Wan was climbing off his knees. Obi-Wan’s mouth was red, wet. His cheeks were flushed. A moment ago, Anakin’s hands had been in his hair and Anakin’s cock had been--

“Feel better?” Obi-Wan asked, flashing him a grin and licking across his bottom lip. He looked flushed, hot and bothered. But when Anakin reached for him, he slid to the side, continuing, “I’m overdue for a meeting, we should catch up, later, though, before you return to the Resolute.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin managed to say, around the sudden clamoring realization in his head. But he was talking to nothing. Obi-Wan was already gone.

Confusion hit first, as Anakni tucked himself back into his pants. He went back over his memories, sure he’d--what, forgotten bringing Obi-Wan off? That was kriffing ridiculous, and he knew it. But…

But it seemed equally as ridiculous to realize that he’d never even gotten a hand inside Obi-Wan’s trousers. They’d just been so busy. And Obi-Wan had always had a reason, had always seen to Anakin and then…. Slipped away.

The confusion, really, didn’t last very long. It was crowded out all too effectively by anger.

Anakin had been stewing for hours by the time Obi-Wan got back to his quarters. Anakin hadn’t left; knew he should have left, but…

He was sitting on the edge of Obi-Wan’s bed - a bed where Obi-Wan had touched him, stroking him until he came, only a few days ago - when the door opened. He felt a wash of fondness and warmth from Obi-Wan through the Force, and gritted his teeth together.

“There you are,” Obi-Wan said, tone warm, crossing the room, bending, and Anakin turned his face away. He felt Obi-Wan hesitate, felt the way Obi-Wan’s hand tensed on his shoulder. Heard puzzlement in Obi-Wan’s voice when he asked, wry, “Not in the mood, darling?”

The anger that had been kindling in Anakin’s chest flared brighter. He looked over, scowling, and snapped, “I don’t need your kriffing pity, you know?”

Obi-Wan blinked at him, hand still resting on Anakin’s shoulder. “I’ve no idea--”

He cut off when Anakin stood, and took a step back. Anakin followed him, itching with frustration and with - with humiliation, too. “What?” he asked, fighting the tightness in his throat, “you thought I just wouldn’t notice that you’ve been - what, exactly? Helping me out of - of duty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan said, and then, louder, “Anakin!” when Anakin backed him into the wall.

“I don’t need charity,” Anakin snarled, his spine a line of crackling lightning. “Despite what you might think, I don’t need your kriffing pity to get off. I’d rather use my own hand than have you -- put yourself out.”

Obi-Wan flinched at the words, color washing out of his face. He made to shift to the side and Anakin braced his hand on the wall. Obi-Wan looked across at him, mouth pressed tight, and said, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but nothing I’ve done with you has been motivated by pity. Or charity. You must know that I--”

“What?” Anakin snapped, nerves strung too tight under his skin. “That you enjoy it?”

Obi-Wan scowled across at him, chin going up. “Of course, I--”

“Oh?” Anakin leaned closer, watched Obi-Wan’s eyes get wider. He put his other hand on Obi-Wan’s side, and rasped, dragging his fingers over cloth, “Then why don’t you show me how much you--”

Obi-Wan caught his wrist, squeezing hard, eyes getting strange and distant, expression….washing flat. All blank lines. He said, “Anakin, don’t.”

Anakin jerked his face to the side, barking a laugh. “Right,” he said, sharp, “that’s what I thought. I don’t even make you hard, do I? I think we’re done, then, if that’s--”

“I can’t.” Obi-Wan bit out, as Anakin pushed away from the wall, leaving him standing there, looking increasingly small. Anakin blinked, the sweep of his anger and embarrassment coming up short, blockaded.

He asked, “What?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched, not into a smile. He was still staring forward, not at anything in particular. “I can’t ‘get hard,’” he repeated, gesturing out to the side with one hand, stepping away from the wall and tugging his robes to order. “Not since -- Rattatak. Ventress, she-- I - I can’t--” He cut off, shaking his head, sharply.

“I’m sorry to have upset you,” he said, before Anakin could recover from the curdling horror that had overtaken his anger too rapidly to be stopped. “I hope that your return to the Resolute is pleasant.” And then he was gone, just like that, out the door, before Anakin could lurch after him.

Anakin missed his transport to the Resolute. He sent Rex and Ahsoka a message, letting them know something required his attention on the Negotiator. He promised he’d meet up with them once they all reached their destination.

And then he grabbed Obi-Wan’s padd and did some research, anger and mortification still moving through him, but...but at least they had a purpose. He already had more than enough reasons to want Ventress dead. Adding one more to the pile didn’t make much of a difference in the long-run.

The shame of accusing Obi-Wan of - of being terrible to him, set heavier in his gut. Anakin pushed it aside. He could make it right. He could fix it. He was good at fixing things, always had been, even if people weren’t as easy as machines and droids.

He had a plan by the time Obi-Wan’s doors slid open again.

Obi-Wan hesitated in the doorway - he must not have been paying attention, not to pick up Anakin’s presence in the room before - and said, after a moment, “Something you needed, Anakin?”

Anakin stood, grimacing a little. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “A few things, actually.”

Obi-Wan nodded, still looking over to one side. He said, exhaustion in his voice, “Could they perhaps wait until--”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin blurted, into the space between them. Sometimes it felt like he was always apologizing to Obi-Wan, or to the Council, or to… Well. So many different people. Obi-Wan blinked, looking towards him for the first time. “I shouldn’t have...said those things I said, earlier, I just didn’t - you never told me, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

Obi-Wan stared across at him. He said, “I told you I cared for you. I told you I wanted you.”

Anakin grimaced, flexing his hands in and out. “I know. I - I meant about Ventress. You never--”

He knew it was a mistake, even before he said it. Obi-Wan tensed across his shoulders, taking a half-step back towards the door, and Anakin blew out a breath. “But that’s alright,” he said, as reassuring as he could be, “I still shouldn’t have - I’m still sorry, Obi-Wan.”

He took a step closer, and Obi-Wan didn’t bolt, which was a good sign, he thought. Obi-Wan sighed, instead, and said, “I’m not angry at you, Anakin.”

“I know that.” Obi-Wan so rarely got angry with him. He sighed and risked touching Obi-Wan’s arm, relieved when Obi-Wan leaned into the touch. He dared pull Obi-Wan closer, into an embrace, chest aching when Obi-Wan leaned his forehead down, resting on Anakin’s shoulder. “I really am - so sorry. I just - I want you so much, and I thought - I thought you didn’t want me at all, and…” And he’d said idiotic, stupid things. He swallowed. “Let me make it up to you.”

Obi-Wan sighed, resting there against his chest, “There’s nothing to make up, I’m not--”

“There is,” Anakin said, shifting, breathing against his hair. “And I - I have a plan. Just. Come here. Please.”

Obi-Wan didn’t protest being led across to the bed, but he did wrinkle his nose. He said, “Anakin, I’m not exaggerating. I really can’t--”

“You don’t need to,” Anakin told him, ducking to kiss him. Force, he was an idiot. Obi-Wan kissed him so sweet and hungry, every time. He should have known--

Anakin shook that thought aside, sinking down onto the bunk and drawing Obi-Wan down across his lap. He felt a little tinge of embarrassment at how quickly he got hard; he knew Obi-Wan had to be able to feel it, but… Obi-Wan made no comment about it and did not seem bothered as Anakin drew him into another kiss.

“Are you apologizing by kissing me?” Obi-Wan asked, eventually, when Anakin’s mouth felt tender and his jaw ached. He sounded amused, more than anything. Relaxed. Anakin shrugged, a little.

“Not really,” he said, and took the opportunity to start tugging at Obi-Wan’s belt.

Obi-Wan made a little sighing sound, but helped, at least, with the removal of his robes. He said, “I know you like to solve problems, Anakin, but I--”

“I’m not trying to solve anything,” Anakin told him, kissing his soft, lovely mouth. “I just want to be close to you.”

Obi-Wan shot him a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it, but didn’t protest further. He shivered at the kisses Anakin scattered across his neck and shoulder, anyway, and made sweet, delightful sounds as Anakin trailed touches across his skin. He hesitated, a little, when Anakin reached for his pants, and Anakin rasped, “It’s alright, let me.”

There were scars, all over Obi-Wan’s body. Some of them stretched across his stomach or ranged over his thighs. He’d never given them much thought. He traced them, absently, falling back into kissing Obi-Wan, stretching a hand out to retrieve the lubricant he’d set aside earlier.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rasped, eventually, stained red all over his shoulders, voice quaking, “listen to me, I can’t--”

“I’m not trying to make you,” Anakin promised, kissing him again. “I have - I want to touch you. To make you feel good, but I’m not expecting -- just, just relax, alright? Let me take care of you. Just for a while.”

Obi-Wan wavered, tense in his arms, and then nodded. Anakin felt him relax, felt him choose to trust, and it made Anakin’s chest ache. Obi-Wan made a puzzled sound when Anakin tugged at him, turning him so his back rested against Anakin’s chest, while Anakin leaned against the wall.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish,” Obi-Wan rasped, as Anakin trailed kisses down his neck, sliding hands down his chest. He was painfully hard in his pants, but - but Obi-Wan had taken care of him so sweetly, earlier. He could deal with his erection, trapped in fabric, pressed to Obi-Wan’s back.

“I’m trying to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” Anakin murmured, making a protesting sound when he felt Obi-Wan open his mouth. “I know you can’t get hard, Obi-Wan. Relax.”

Obi-Wan cut off in a groan when Anakin nipped at his shoulder. Anakin smiled against his skin and slid a hand down his skin. Obi-Wan squirmed when Anakin tugged at his thigh, spreading his legs. Anakin drew his own leg up, hooking Obi-Wan’s over the top, and Obi-Wan gasped, “Oh, Anakin, I--”

“Sh,” Anakin murmured, nuzzling against his neck. “I’ve got you.” He curled his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and held him, using the Force to slick his other fingers with the lube. “You just tell me how it feels, alright?” he said, sliding his hand down, back--

Obi-Wan jolted, a little, at the brush of touch against his skin. His head tilted back, heavy on Anakin’s shoulder as Anakin touched him, dipped a finger tip inside him. There’d been...instructions, for what Anakin wanted to do, dry and fairly boring.

Anakin was pretty sure he’d gotten the gist of them, anyway. He trailed kisses across Obi-Wan’s skin, sliding his finger out and in again, Obi-Wan squirming against him as he asked, “Good so far?”

“Strange so far,” Obi-Wan panted out, a wry note in his tone. “I’m not sure--”

“I am,” Anakin said, sliding his finger in a little further, looking--

Obi-Wan jolted against him, suddenly, stomach tensing beneath Anakin’s arm. He let out a little sound, wordless. Surprised. Anakin smiled against his skin, the beginnings of satisfaction warming his gut, making him harder.

He rubbed the pad of his finger in a circle, buried there, inside Obi-Wan’s body. And, oh, he liked the idea of being inside Obi-Wan. He’d entertained it before, a burning desire to get as close as possible and then closer, to--

He cut off those thoughts. That was...not part of the plan at the moment. Perhaps later. He circled his finger, instead, listening to Obi-Wan make surprised, ragged sounds into the air. There’d been all kinds of suggestions, about drawing this out, making it last, making a person beg--

Anakin didn’t want Obi-Wan to have to beg. Not for this. But he did adjust his grip, did dare a second finger, sliding two inside and feeling Obi-Wan’s spine arch, feeling the sound he made. “How’s that?” Anakin asked, rasping, the pads of his fingers circling to apply direct pressure.

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan panted, and he was flushing, all down his chest, wriggling in Anakin’s hold, and it did not matter that he wasn’t hard, Anakin could feel the pleasure echoing off of him. “It’s -- it’s good, Anakin, what---?”

“It’ll get better,” Anakin promised, meaning it, plans all clambering together in his head as he withdrew his fingers. Obi-Wan made a sharp noise of protest. “Don’t worry,” he said, switched arms, sliding his right hand down, between Obi-Wan’s legs, “I’ve got you, I’m going to take care of you.”

Obi-Wan arched when Anakin sunk two fingers into him, leather sliding against skin. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tensed. And he cried out, ragged, when Anakin ran a little vibration through his fingers, the metal thrumming as he dragged his fingertips in a circle, pressing down harder, feeling--

“Oh, fuck,” Obi-Wan panted, grabbing at his arm, body clenching around Anakin’s fingers. “Anakin--”

“Mm,” Anakin nuzzled at his throat, tightening his hold, so desperately grateful that Obi-Wan had let him do this, let him apologize. “There you go,” he rasped, “just like that, come on.”

And he felt it, when Obi-Wan came, felt the way he flashed all over with sweet, hot pleasure in the Force, felt it in the clench of Obi-Wan’s body, in the way he went limp, breathing raggedly, and it didn’t matter, really, that his cock had never stirred.

“Force,” Obi-Wan slurred, sounding dazed, and Anakin hummed, sucked a kiss into his throat, and twisted his fingers, just a little.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #obikin #not safe for wizards #spicy #anakin says things he regrets #whoops

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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 3 years

Photo

Crossover Yandere Delta Warriors And Kris’s Three Souls

-----------------------------

Credit for Steven Universe Series goes to Rebecca Sugar

Credit for Deltarune & Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss goes to Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano & Spindlehorse

Credit for Yandere Simulator goes to YandereDev

------------------------

I do plan to post this drawing at the other place I post fan art at.

also the reason why Ayano has different color eyes,

has to do with the Genocide Route, Neutral Route and True Pacifist Route of Yandere Simulator.

like depending how we play, if we go full Geno-Route

our eyes, well Ayano’s eyes....become Red.

but if we befriend a rival and help other students, and not kill anyone in yandere simulator.....

Ayano’s eyes will become blue.

why Sans is wearing Steven Universe’s clothes and Pink Steven being right next to him should be obvious.

it has to do with Sans and Steven being one in the same.

and when the Human Half of Steven died, he was reborn as Sans

but the gem half that makes “Pink-Steven” reforms but Human-Steven is not close by and most likely left to maybe to go live with his new family, his new Dad that speaks in hands and his new little brother Papyrus.

the dark purple soul belongs to Knight, the light turquoise blue soul belongs to Kris, and the Red Soul belongs to the Player.

I believe that before the Player’s Red Soul ends up in Deltarune (in Chapter 1), the Knight who is the Dark Purple Soul had made Kris’s life miserable by pulling dark pranks on others, even if Kris could pull some pranks....they would not willingly cross the line, that would be the Knight’s doing.

yeah I have a theory that the Knight had done dark pranks by making Kris do them and making everyone believe it was Kris, while technically it was but at the same time it was against Kris’s will.

think about it, we never did any of those dark pranks that those in Deltarune mention.

so it makes sense that it is the work of the Knight, who’s soul has been controlling Kris before we got there.

and the only time Knight does take control,

is when they are about to do something sneaky and they rip our soul from Kris’s body and the reason why Kris doesn’t fight back is because the Knight is much stronger than them.

it is possible that the only time we are stronger than the Knight, is during the day time in the Lightner’s World and when we are in the Dark World.

but once Nighttime happens, the Knight has the power to control Kris and pull us the Players.

so if this is true, this means that Kris has two souls in them trying to fight for control.....one being the villain known as the “Knight”

and the other being us the Player, the Red Soul.

I see that as fan headcanon.

in theory if the Crystal Gems and Connie, didn’t know that Steven died and became Sans.....

like it happen some time after the end of Steven Universe Future.

Sans might have Alphys help with that, by cloning a homunculus steven body, that the Pink-Steven will be put in and make it so that no one knows Steven had died and became a Magical Talking Skeleton.

well that could be one way to keep the Crystal Gems, Connie, Greg and everyone else from Beach City from finding out what happen to Steven....if he had died off-screen and was brought back to life by Gaster as Sans.

I would like to see a crossover fan art with the meme

Gaster: *hugging Sans* stay away from my Son.

Greg Universe: but he’s my Son!!

Gaster:.........Stay Away From YOUR Ex-Son......who is now MY Son.

even if we love Steven Universe

(and some of us do love Steven Universe Future)

at least we now know now that the Steven Universe Future,

was NOT the start of Steven’s problems......it was just the boiling point.

Greg was not a great dad, something we should of seen from the start of the first Season but couldn’t.

I plan to re-watch the first series of Steven Universe, to really watch it

and notice the stuff that we never truly notice before....

like even if the Crystal Gems did make some mistakes with how they treated Steven most of the time during his childhood.

and Amethyst did start to become a better big sister to Steven,

like with the whole finding out his Mom is Pink Diamond.

even if not a lot of fans liked Steven Universe Future, because of different reasons....

but we have to acknowledge the problem Steven was having didn’t start in the Steven Universe Future.....it started in the first series.

even if Steven had his good days, he did end up with trauma and he didn’t see a doctor until Steven Universe Future....

which you can thank his “Ex-Dad Greg” for that.

most families have excuses for not being able to go to a doctor.

after becoming rich, Greg could of hired Steven a tutor

and send him to school.....though I don’t think you have to be rich to do that.....at least I don’t think so.

but we can’t place the blame on Steven, even if his Human and Gem Family loves him dearly....

it doesn’t help that Greg and Connie form a “Human Beings Club”

kind of excluding Steven and making him feel a type of negative emotion.

I believe what Steven was feeling when he also says “human beings.”

was a type of negative feeling, but like still wanting to be included in the human bonding that his Dad and Best Friend (Future Girlfriend) were having.

Greg was a bit disappointing in the episode where he took Steven to where his parents lived.....

just when Steven was becoming more better and even enjoyed finding out about his Dad’s past.....Greg only made things worse again,

when he couldn’t understand why his own son was upset with him.

there might of been more to the story of Greg’s Parents than what Greg told so far.....it is possible that one of Greg’s parents had very sensitive hearing and couldn’t handle really loud music.

and Greg could of broke that rule many times and that is why his parents don’t allow any music in the house.

even if that episode tried to play that Greg was a victim, it might not be 100% true.....

yes Pink’s punishments were unjust at times, but we have to remember how bad she was before she given Earth.

so most of her punishments were just, meaning she deserved them.

while other times she didn’t deserve them at all.

the problem might be that both Greg’s Parents

and Blue & Yellow Diamond, would punish Greg and Pink even at times when they didn’t deserve it.....

but it could be that before they did start punishing them,

they let them get away with so much and one point both of them crossed a line that it became too much for Greg’s Parents and even Yellow & Blue, and they had no choice but to ground them

to Greg’s Room and Pink’s Tower.

once again the problem with Steven

didn’t start in Steven Universe Future,

it started at the very beginning in Steven Universe.

the the boiling point maybe started in the Steven Universe Movie,

then the breaking point started in the Steven Universe Future.

not all fans of Steven Universe, have to like Steven Universe Future.

I happen to love Steven Universe, Steven Universe Future and the Movie.

but we have to try to come to terms that the problems Steven was having, didn’t start in Steven Universe Future.

it started in Steven Universe, and even if not a lot of fans will accept that.....well it is their choice, and they should accept it by their own free will to.

I do plan to re-watch the first series to see if Steven had more than one bad experience which would of been one of the first problems he had before his breaking point in Steven Universe Future.

I know at first I thought of the Steven Universe Future

as the time he had his boiling point, but in correction it would be his breaking point that would get worse over time.

the boiling point would be the first stage, which would start in Steven Universe Future.....when more of his mother’s past misdeeds would come to light.

the breaking point would slowly consume and get stronger for Steven, to the point where he would end up becoming Monster-Steven.

Steven becomes a gem monster because of all the negative emotions,

he only gets better once everyone realize what they didn’t do for him.

being there for him when he needs it.

at times we could pretend that everything is fine for others,

like acting like we are only a little sad but doing pretty okay now.

but that might not be for the best....even if we might think it is.

Sans might be a future version of Steven,

who had gotten better and learned from his past, but could still hold on to some form of bitter memories.

like what if the one calling Connie, when Steven proposed to her...

wasn’t Connie’s Mom but was a Boy that Connie was Dating.

and she still liked Steven, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Steven.

well hopefully that isn’t true and that was just Connie’s Mom.

we know that a lot of fans were worried for their ship.

well the Sadie and Lars Ship had became the Friend Zone Ship.

meaning it went from “I Ship It” to “I Bud It”

Shep seems nice though, when I did first see them on the opening I didn’t know if they were a boy or a girl.....

but it turns out they are nonbinary, so it’s nice that the episode where they officially appeared on (as well as their bio.) had confirmed Shep’s identity.

I think I still need to figure out the whole Gyno-Agender

or Feminine-Nonbinary thing.....

I wonder how many fans of both Yandere Simulator and Undertale/Deltarune.....

would think that Fun-Girl from Yandere Simulator,

reminds them of Gaster....?

well Fun-Girl does remind me of Gaster, it be nice if both games did canon crossovers.

well there is that Yanderetale,

but maybe that is only Semi-Canon.....maybe?

there is another crossover drawing I did, that has to do with Undertale/Deltarune and even another game....

but I will wait until tomorrow to post it.

hope some of you like this drawing.

I wonder if it be weird to Crossover ship Sans x Collin....?

I will think about it, but it might leave me a little sheepish. lol

#yandere simulator #pink steven #sans the skeleton #collin helluva boss #charlie magne hazbin hotel #ayano aishi #berdly #noelle holiday #susie deltarune #kris deltarune

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

Note

I HAD A BRAIN WAVE MOMENT

DO YOU REMEMBER WAYYYY BACK WHEN EVERYONE HATED ASOKA? DAVE DID THAT ON PURPOSE SO HE WAS IN CONTROL OF WHAT PEOPLE HATED ABOUT HER. OK NOW THIS MIGHT BE A LONGSHOT THAT HOPEFULLY DOESN’T END UP LIKE LONGSHOT THE CLONE, BUT, IM HOPING THATS WHATS DAVE IS DOING WITH TBB. BEING IN CONTROL OF WHAT THE FANDOM HATES ABOUT IT AND THEN IMPROVING IT SLOWLY BIT BY BIT.

PLEASE IM DESPERATE FOR A EXPLANATION!

(also where’s my explanation about why the clones are white washed, dave? hmm? where is it dave?)

OMG LOOK.

It wouldnt excuse the whitewashing or the weak scenario, because he got us used to some good stuff now (tcw s7, Mandalorian, that kind of things)

But it would make sense - to a certain extent - to work that season as a "cliché team in a cliché scenario" and see how people react to be able for a second season (if there's a second season) to improve it

Disclaimer: I'm a white, abled person so I'm not trying to speak on behalf of poc/disabled people, but I think it's important to support them and listen to the critics they make about SW and it's content

Also this is quite long I got carried away but worth it it is!

I linked some of @rebekadjarin 's post here because I read a bit through her blog today and agreed with her posts; and I invite you to check out the "#whitewhashed tbb" if you want more extanded and developed information about that matter! (As my knowledge on the matter is still quite limited/ incomplete due to my privileges, and this post is more of a summary than a real analysis)

So here, we know that the fans are unhappy about:

- the whitewashing of the Bad Batch (especially since they proved they could animate dark skinned people/ more generally poc with the first seasons of tcw, Kanan in Rebels and the Separatist in the latest TBB episode)

It is a real problem and it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Even if they are different, the Batchers are still clones and it's really not that hard to show their enhancement while keeping Temuera's features and skin colour (I mean, look at all the artists who did and do it everyday on this app; no excuse here)

Star Wars has wasted a lot of potential on numerous occasions because they keep doing stuff like this; and it's quite ironic (and very sad) to see that racism, ableism and stereotypes are prevalent in a universe where people fight for equality and peace...

Here and here are two posts about it (if you're the author of these posts and want me to delete them from my post please tell me so; I took the liberty of adding them because I think they highlight quite well the issue and do a clear job at showing the whitewashing in SW/ around the clones)

- the way Crosshair is treated; both by the Batchers and the writers, he's manipulated by the chip yet no one is talking about rescuing him and we see nothing about the effect of his absence on the Batchers (they don't mention him, don't try to save him, and Hunter is more distraught by Omega's absence than by his own brother's)

And don't get me wrong, Omega is a kid and she's nice, of course they have to take care of her and protect her

But they also don't know her purpose; why is she here? She could be a bad omen (maybe she doesn't even know it! The Kaminoans probably didn't tell anyone about her real purpose and I stand by the idea that the infos they got about her are all wrong and purposefully misleading) and I have the dark feeling that she will be the end/ death of the Batchers by the end of the serie, even if she didn't wanted it that way

But Crosshair is never mentionned, except for when he's needed in the scenario. Which is a shame, because he's a Batcher too even if he's mind-controlled and (for now) working for the Empire. He's supposed to be a main character, and he's a key element to the plot; yet out of 10 episodes we saw him in only 3, and only the moments where he was acting bad (i'm excluding the lonely moment at the end of ep2 because it had a lot of potential about him fighting the chip but that was all we had and i'm still bitter about it lol)

Here is a post about it

- speaking of plot; I feel like it's always the same disk playing since episode 2-3: They have a mission given by Cid, they do it, things go wrong, Omega saves the day and they get the money.

Crosshair is doing bad guy stuff so no need to tall about him (haha right?)

Now. I'm a good public. I know when to activate the Dummie™ in me and enjoy a show about a found family doing crazy jobs for a criminal and raising a newly adopted daughter at the same time. It's fun, it's sweet, sometimes it get emotional and the animation is beautiful (the lights are amazing I am always in awe)

I can enjoy it and be in awe and see Echo sniffing food and Tech smiles and Wrecker playing with Omega and feel happy about it.

But I also expected more. I hadn't any clear idea because I didn't wanted to set expectations (how ironic) but I can't help but feel sad about the wasted potential around Empire! Crosshair and the rise of said Empire.

If you want to antagonize one of the main character, do it, but do it fully and do it well. Show us Crosshair getting really invested in a plan to catch the Batchers and suddenly making a scene for a tiny detail that could blow it up; show us Crosshair and Hunter fighting each other hand to hand after they disarmed each other, and Crosshair getting the upoer hand until something holds him back; just enough for Hunter to take control again

Show us a complex character who suffers but doesn't fully realise it, and show us brothers mourning yet hoping to get the family back again you know?

- the way Echo is treated by the Batchers. And as much as it saddens me, they do him dirty in the show.

Echo is a war veteran, an ex- prisoner and a disabled character. He went through a lot; first he lost the Domino squad, then he lost brothers on Kamino (including 99 who was close to his squad), then the Citadel happened and he lost both his legs, an arm, his freedom, his brothers and probably any hope to be saved.

Then they found him in that freezer, and he probably realised that, if Fives wasn't here to save him, it meant he lost him too.

Then he left Rex to go with a team of 4 because he probably didn't feel like he belonged with "regs" anymore; he chose strangers over brothers because he thought he couldn't find his place there. Which in itself is sad and problematic.

And now he's with the Batchers, and they don't seem to grasp the importance of his trauma. I mean; they always had the 4 of them and never lost a brother (apart from Cross; which is another wasted potential here because they could have exploited that trauma and made a parallel with Echo being so used to losing brothers and them experiencing it for the first time on such a personal level you know) and they do some crappy stuff to him.

Selling him as a droid? Not cool.

Brushing off his trauma for a mission and some credits? Not. Cool.

And Echo can't say anything because he chose them, and now he has nowhere to go anyway because Order 66 happened; and he probably doesn't want to be a burden to Rex, and he probably doesn't want to abandon his brothers especially now that Cross is gone and they have a child to take care of

But yeah there are a lot of things happening - or NOT happening - around Echo and his trauma and his disability that are wrong and people are right to talk about it

Here is a post I read and I agree with it

- Overall, the way the show and the characters are handled; they often feel very stereotyped/ cliché and the basic plot doesn't really help for character development or improvement

I read a post about it and it was really interesting; they linked the whitewashing of the characters with their abilities/enhencement

Tech and Crosshair are the smartest and the whitest in the group (which is bad)

Wrecker is portrayed as the Bid Dummie™ and he's the one with the "darker" skin and the features closest to Temuera/ Maōri features (also very bad)

Hunter is straight up a Rambo with a face tattoo, and Echo - and you guys know I love him - is whiter than a sheet of paper (all so bad)

Not only this, but there is no improvement in their personality or thinking

They don't seem to evolve, and just like their mission, they end up playing the same song over and over again

Hunter is the broody soldier and though people enjoy talking to him as a Dad (count me in) but he's not a good dad for Omega (he calls her soldier and is always acting awkward and uncomfortable around her)

Wrecker could be a better dad for her; but again they display him as a big dummie and give the impression he couldn't take well care of her

Tech is here to be the smart one, we only see him when they need someone to do the smart speaking and the complicated computer things

Echo is the grumpy reg, the "more droid than man" and sometimes the Mom™ but they never show him talking about the Empire or the trauma or how the I am not Freaking Out™ I did came back for this Shit™ he's just here to... Be here and be grumpy and bring the oldest clone wars fans to watch TBB

And Crosshair is almost non-existent.

Here is another post about it

What could it be then?

So either Dave is pulling a Ahsoka on us; but he'll still have a lot of things to correct and explanations to give because I can excuse a bad plot but I draw the line at blatant racism ans ableism (especially when they KNOW the fans and they KNOW what people want and they KNOW it would probably bring more people to enjoy and get invested in the show)

- If he's doing this, he will probably work with the animator to correct the whitewashing (because it really is the only really wrong thing in the animation, the rest of it is quite good to be honest like the light, framing and all)

- Understand that Tbb and Mandalorian are two different shows and cannot be treated the sale way; so he'll get back to the main plot and hopefully work on Crosshair's arc and hos his absence/ him being controlled by the chip affects him/ the Batchers/ their relation

- He'll probably work more on displaying the effect of their trauma; collective and personal, and see how it reflects on their relations (and give Echo the healing he deserves)

- By extension, give the characters more depth and complexity, dig their stereotypical surface and reveal their true nature (show me a ruthless yet easily overwhelmed Hunter; a smart but constantly anxious Tech, a very emotional Wrecker playing the big explosive dummie to protect himself, etc.)

Well, that's what I would do

Or he's just... Doing this and not planning any changes; in which case I'll probably do what I did with SPN s15: stop watching, scroll through tumblr to get some infos and gifs and tell everyone about how dirty they did the characters, and they did us.

But I really hope he's hearing us and taking our remarks into account; the show in itself had a lot of potential and I'm still hanging on the thin hope that the ending could "save it"; but I also have no expectations and am in fact waiting for a disappointing ending

On a brighter note, I'm glad the fandom exists because I see artists and writers and gif-makers and theorists and all kind of people creating and sharing their own content, headcanons, art, writing and they all feel right and better than the canon

Like yes, give me a in-character dark skinned clone who deals with his trauma and the sudden changes around him in a realistic way

Tell me about the real effects of the war on soldiers, and the truth behind the corrupted government taking over the galaxy, and the efforts everyone has to make to survive, exist and live together

If Dave and his team cannot do it, I know you guys can and that's why I'm glad to be here too; you give me hope when they fail to do so 💙

I hope I like... Answered this correctly? 😂 I got carried away but yeah, though I'm usually not vocal about it and try to enjoy it with my Dummie Energy™ I still see and read about what you all think, and usually I agree with you; the show deserved better and we deserved better

Now back to ignoring the canon and writing a fic about my very much alive and beloved Fives 🥰

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #mesa shitposts #mesa answers #namesmox 💗#thank you for your ask!#it's a long rent #but I'm glad I did it #if you feel like I said something incorrect please do tell me #I am still learning #and I want to educate myself about these matters because it's important #echo #crosshair #tech #hunter #wrecker #omega #personal opinion

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thicctails · 3 years

Text

Summer Of Whump Day 30[Crying/Lashing Out]

Reunited at last!

Omega leaned against a tree, her injured leg lifted off the ground slightly. Despite the pain that radiated from various points on her body, she was buzzing with excitement. Today was the day that they were going to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch and Rex!

They were just getting ready to leave, Crosshair going off to hunt something down so that they had extra provisions. Cal was laying down in the soft grass, rays of sunlight shining down on him as he slept. Omega felt a flicker of sadness go through her when she realized that Pillow was missing out on enjoying the planet’s nice warm environment.

Crosshair had explained that Pillow, for some unexplainable reason, had cocooned himself in crystal. Omega hadn’t believed him at first, but the older clone had carried her back to the ship so that she could see it for herself. She’d spent the better part of half an hour just talking to the hunk of crystal, hoping that Pillow could hear her in there. She couldn’t sense him in the Force, which upset her. Crosshair said that he wouldn’t be in there for very long, but she could tell that he’d only said that to make her feel better. Truth was, nobody knew how long Pillow would be stuck in the shining purple chunk of rock.

Omega could only hope that he was okay in there.

“Hey.”

Omega turned her head, surprised at who she saw.

Chex shifted nervously, his arm resting in a sling. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his hair messy and his eyes still holding the remnants of sleep. He looked the way she felt, the two of them having just recently recovered from their fevers. She tilted her head slightly, not exactly sure why he had approached her.

“I just,” He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, “I wanted to say… that I’m sorry. I was angry and hurting, but that was no excuse to act the way that I did. You’re actually really cool.”

Omega felt his sincerity and guilt through the Force, and she gave him a half smile.

“Thanks. You were pretty cool too, taking on that creature by yourself.” She replied. “Just try to avoid swinging that lightsaber at me, and we’ll be good.”

Chex flushed red in embarrassment. “Yeah, that was one of my stupider moments.”

“Yes, it was.”

Chex whirled, gulping when he saw Crosshair standing behind him. The clone glowered at him, his golden-brown eyes narrowing dangerously. A large, furry beast was draped over his shoulder, a trickle of blood dripping down his armored chest. Omega stifled a laugh at the way the padawan visibly seemed to shrink, his shoulders hunching as he tried to make himself seem as small and nonthreatening as possible.

“So, you’re the one that attacked my adiik.” He growled, and it was as if a thunderstorm had formed inside his chest.

“Uhhh…” Chex squeaked, somehow becoming even smaller.

“Crosshair, I think you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Omega giggled.

“Good.” Crosshair rumbled, still making direct eye contact with the cowering teen.

Omega rolled her eyes and gave Chex a little shove, causing him to snap out of his terror-induced paralysis and dash away as fast as possible.

Omega couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing, her throat still a bit rough from her illness. She wiped at her eyes as Crosshair continued to glare at the retreating padawan, a toothpick clenched in his teeth.

“You should have left him to cower, it was amusing.” He grumbled, giving her a small smile.

“Cal’s gonna be so mad! He wanted to see you do that.” Omega wheezed.

“He should have stayed awake, then.” He said simply. “Come on, let’s get going.”

She waits until Crosshair has woken Cal up before she moves. She limped forward, accepting Crosshair’s arm when he offers it. She knows that, if she asks, he’ll carry her back to the ship, but she wants to try and do it herself. She’s tired of feeling weak.

Together, the trio made their way back to the ship. Crosshair threw his catch into the cold storage while Cal and Omega strapped in. Omega claimed the co-pilot’s seat, and Cal didn’t have the heart to fight her for the prized seat while she was injured. Resigning himself to a seat farther back, he curled up and went back to sleep, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest.

“Ready?” Crosshair asked, sliding into the pilot’s seat.

“Ready!” Omega replied enthusiastically.

Crosshair stared out the windshield with a determined look on his face.

“Then let’s go home.”

Hunter paced back and forth, stopping every thirty seconds to listen for the sound of approaching footsteps. He stared out at the open sky, wishing that his sight was as good as his hearing so that he could see if a ship was coming in. Upon seeing nothing and hearing nothing, he resumed his pacing.

“Hunter, for the love of the Maker, please stop pacing!” Echo groaned, shooting Hunter an annoyed look. “Walking back and forth isn’t going to make them arrive any sooner.”

Hunter huffed, crossing his arms. “They should have been here by now. What if something went wrong? What if Crosshair’s chip activated again?”

“It’s been an hour since we got here. Give them some time.” Tech said, but Hunter didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked towards the sky.

“Ugh, we’ve given them time.” Wrecker, who had been laying on the floor lifting boxes, sat up. “I say we go lookin’ for ‘em.”

“That could draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. We’re staying put.” Rex replied.

Hunter opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when a new sound reached his ears.

Footsteps. One set was steady and calm, one was hesitant, and the other was uneven, like the person was limping. He turned his head, staring directly at the doorway.

“Someone’s coming. A few someones.” He said in a hushed voice. Hope made his heart rate pick up, but he also knew to be cautious. There was always the possibility that whoever was coming down the hall wasn’t friendly.

The group rallied around them, and the air was thick with tension. Hands rested on blasters as the footsteps became audible to everyone.

They waited.

There was silence for a moment, the approaching people pausing, hesitant to enter the room. Then, a familiar mop of blonde hair appeared from around the corner. Soft, honey-brown eyes locked onto them, and Omega’s star-bright grin lit up the space around them.

“Omega!” The Bad Batch yelled, running over to her. She had barely stepped forward when Hunter reached her, scooping her up into a tight hug, ever careful not to touch her scarring burns.

Omega’s face disappeared into Hunter’s neck, her own smooth skin brushing up against his stubble. The scent of damp earth and clean rainfall fills his senses, and Hunter takes a moment to absorb it, to take comfort from the fact that their ad’ika is back in his arms and that she’s alive and okay. Her limbs shake as she wraps her arms around his neck, almost choking him with how tightly she’s holding on. He doesn’t care. Omega is back, and that’s what matters.

But she’s not the only family member that has returned to them today.

Still holding onto Omega, he opens his eyes to see Crosshair standing in the door frame. His vod looks… tired. The skin beneath his eyes is dark, and in his cognac brown eyes Hunter sees a frightening mix of bone-deep exhaustion, deep-seeded guilt, and wavering fear, like he doesn’t know if Hunter is going to hug him or strike him.

“C’mere, Cross’ika.” The nickname is one that he hasn’t used since their early days of life, but it still rolls off his tongue like smooth honey.

Crosshair stiffens at the name, and Hunter can practically see the shock going through his mind. He hesitantly steps closer, still uncertain of Hunter’s intentions. Once he’s close enough, Hunter grabs his younger brother and pulls him into his chest, wrapping an arm around his back. He shifts Omega in his arm so that she’s still sitting comfortably while he holds Crosshair as close as he can.

Before Crosshair could even register the sensation of being pulled into a hug, their other vode joined in, practically smothering Omega and Crosshair with affection. Tech wiggled his way close to Hunter’s side, throwing his arms around Crosshair and tucking his face into his shoulder. Echo was closer to Omega, eagerly offering the now teary-eyed girl a hug when she spotted him. And Wrecker? Well, Wrecker used his enhanced size to hug them all.

Crosshair blinked, the weight of his vode bringing back fuzz-tinted memories of days long gone. He blinked again, feeling the unfamiliar sting of tears prick at the edges of his eyes. He took in a shuddering breath, the fear of rejection slowly bleeding out of him.

“Welcome back, vod.” It was Echo’s voice this time, kind and heavy with relief.

“’s good to be back.” He whispered, resting his chin on Hunter’s shoulder.

Suddenly, there’s a noise. A shifting of feet on a metal floor makes Crosshair pull back, remembering that it wasn’t just him and Omega that had walked down the hall.

“Cal,” He called, turning back towards the doorway. “come on out, ad’ika.”

The Batch and Rex, who had come over once he’d realized that someone hadn’t revealed themself yet, peered curiously towards the doorway. Hunter could hear a small heartbeat increase as the hidden figure slowly poked his head out of the shadows. Startlingly green eyes broke the pattern of light browns, the boy glancing nervously at the group. He shuffled in place, looking like he wanted to bolt.

They stared at him, he stared at them. All was silent.

“Is that the kid you stole?”

“TECH!”

The kid’s face crinkled with amusement when Crosshair smacked Tech upside the head, scowling at him.

“Yeah, I’m his stolen Jedi kid. Took me out of my jail cell right as I was getting comfortable.” He joked, laughing when Crosshair lightly smacked him on the head.

“Shush, you little womp rat. If you were stolen by anyone, it was that Jedi.”

“She would’a gave us back.”

“Debatable. You and Omega are very likeable.”

Wrecker laughed at the conversation. “Aw, Crossy’s gone soft.”

“Wrecker.” Crosshair warned, bristling at the nickname.

“Crossy?!” Cal, Rex, and Omega asked, trying not to laugh.

“Do not call me that!” Crosshair snapped, his cheeks burning red.

“Softie Crossy! Softy Cros- hurk!” Wrecker started to tease, but was cut off when Crosshair gave him a hard shove. The second-oldest clone let out a playful yell and pulled Crosshair down, wrestling with him on the floor.

“Ori’vod, help me out!” Wrecker yelled, trying to wrangle Crosshair. The younger clone was too slippery, however, and Crosshair soon managed to wrap his legs around Wrecker’s neck, squeezing just enough to cut off most of his airflow.

Hunter laughed, an actual, full-belly laugh. It had been years since he’d done that!

“Tech, here,” He said, passing a giggling Omega off to his youngest brother, “hold this.”

Tech accepted the armful of child, smiling at her and planting a kiss on her forehead. She leaned into him, tucking herself under his chin.

“Hello, sarad’ika.” He said softly, taking a moment to fully realize the fact that Omega was back, that his inability to protect her hadn’t ended in her demise. “Gar cuyir bid kotir, ad'ika.”

“Tech,” She whined, wiggling a bit to get comfortable,“I don’t know what that means. You guys need to teach me whatever language you’re speaking.”

“We will, little one. I was just saying that you’re very brave, even when you were faced with a terrible situation.” Tech said, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe when you needed me to.”

“It’s okay, Tech. I’m actually glad I got caught. Otherwise, I never would have met Cal.” She said, looking towards the redhead. He was cheering Crosshair on, Echo carefully watching to make sure he didn’t accidentally get dragged into the playful brawl.

“Ah yes, our surprise addition.” Tech said, turning to look as well. “We’re going to have to build a new bunk.”

“Me and him can sleep on Crosshair’s ship.” Omega said.

Tech tightened his hold, almost looking distressed at her suggestion. “No. You aren’t allowed to leave our sight, not again. We can leave that Imperial scrapheap here.”

“No we can’t! Pillow’s still in his weird cocoon thing.” Omega protested.

“A… cocoon?” Tech questioned.

“Yeah. He put himself into a big crystal!” She said, spreading her arms out as if to emphasize how large the object was.

“An amphibian creating a cocoon is bizarre, but a crystalline one? That’s unheard of.” Tech muttered. “I need to analyze it. Would you like to come with me, or stay here?”

“Stay with you.” Omega said, tucking herself back underneath Tech’s chin. She didn’t want to be put down, didn’t want to be without contact right now. The Force sang happily around her, pleased by her reuniting with her family.

Tech chuckled and adjusted her so that he was holding her with one arm.

“Very well then, let’s go see our crystallized friend.”

#the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #omega bad batch #hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #summerofwhump #summerofwhump[30]#crying #this one is soft #fluff #whump #captain rex #rex clone wars

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

angst bingo prompt idea for "came back wrong": rex tries to rescue one of his brothers post order 66 but something goes wrong after the surgery to remove the chip

I love this. Let’s see what I’ve got in me today, shall we?

Tw for mental manipulation, non-consensual drugging, trauma, abuse, conscription/enslavement, murder, and VERY MORALLY AMBIGUOUS BEHAVIOR that I will not spoil here. Just be careful. It’s fairly sad.

What struck Rex most was how familiar his face was.

Of course, he was one of the brothers - the Clones - and all their faces were familiar.

But somehow he had expected him to look different, changed somehow, damaged, from his life under the iron grip of the control chip.

Instead he looked the same as he always had.

The twisted scar down the left side of his face, the jaw that was slightly blunter than Rex’s own, the extra stress line between his eyebrows that had somehow been there since birth.

Sleeping as he was right now, he looked more relaxed than he had ever seemed while conscious.

Rex rubbed his face in exhaustion as he finally stopped stumping about the recovery room and took the chair beside the bed, groaning a little as his knees protested at the movement.

“We’re getting old, Cody,” he said aloud, staring at the sleeping face. “We were always gonna get old before normal humans, but this... all this... I feel old before my time, that’s for damn sure.”

Cody, of course, did not reply.

Still, Rex felt better. He settled as comfortably as possible in the chair and closed his eyes, content to wait until his vod finally woke up — a free man for the first time in ten years.

][][][][][

Rex woke suddenly, inhaling sharply and jolting in his seat, feeling weirdly as if his consciousness had just been dropped unceremoniously back into his body. He’d really been sleeping.

Then he saw Cody, and his breath caught in his throat.

Cody was looking right at him, sitting up in bed — just sitting there, staring, no cold glare in his eyes, no clipped Imperial arrest declaration coming from his lips. His hair had gone more salt than pepper these days, but he was Cody, through and through.

“Hey—Cody!” Rex said, gasping. He leaned forward in his seat and grabbed Cody’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Cody just blinked at him.

“It’s gonna be okay, vod,” Rex assured him, feeling a stupid grin spreading over his face. “I know it’s overwhelming right now. It happens to all the guys. But I promise this is real.”

The familiar scarred face tilted slightly to the side as Cody studied him intently with those mirror-image dark eyes. His hand remained limp in Rex’s.

“Some... memories will start coming back soon,” Rex continued. “But I’ll help you. It’s not your fault. Anything you can remember, I swear, it’s not your—”

“My fault,” Cody said hoarsely.

His grip suddenly turned to steel; he squeezed Rex’s hand so tightly that it hurt.

“No,” Rex said hastily. “No it’s not. Cody, it was a—”

“It’s my fault,” the former Marshal Commander of the 212th said firmly, his eyes roving around the room, taking it all in. “I need to get out of here. I need to fix this.”

Cody was not panicking as all the other dechipped brothers had, but he was still gripping Rex so hard that it was bringing tears to the other man’s eyes. “Cody...”

“I need to fix this. I failed,” Cody repeated. “Let me out.”

“I can’t do that, Cody, you’re not well...”

“Let me out. Now.”

“Cody—”

“Let me out. That’s an order.”

“No, Cody—”

“Let me out. I have to go.”

Feeling like he had no choice, Rex used his free hand to reach across and trigger a switch next to the bed. They always had to do this for newbies, although normally they were crying and screaming instead of just issuing orders.

In less than ten seconds Cody was unconscious again.

Rex peeled his hand away, wincing.

The door opened cautiously and a figure stepped inside, a cloak raised high to help conceal the magnificent montrals she was now sporting.

“I wonder how much he remembered,” Ahsoka said thoughtfully. “I feel like he would have been more distressed if he fully recalled... well, Utupau.”

“And everything after,” Rex sighed, rubbing his sore hand.”

Ahsoka nodded, still studying the man on the bed.

Rex looked at him too.

“He’ll pull through,” the former Captain of the 501st muttered. “Fine.”

][][][][][

The next day Cody woke for only minutes at a time, sleeping off sedatives and enduring scans.

Rex was away most of the day, but his friend was on his mind all the time, distracting him.

Cody’s solemn confusion hadn’t been as jarring as the screaming and anguished guilt he was used to seeing in his freed brothers, but there was still something so...

Unbearably sad about it.

Rex decided to spend the night on a cot in Cody’s room.

So he wouldn’t be alone.

He fell to sleep quickly, as he had been trained to do a thousand years ago in a world where everything had seemed simpler — even war.

Sometime in the night he woke to see Cody blinking blearily at him, saying: “...I... I failed... Do you know that Rex? I did.”

Before Rex could reply, Cody was asleep again.

][][][][][

The next morning before dawn, Rex was woken by the sound of Cody attempting to climb out of bed. He was unbalanced and clearly in some form of pain, his forehead deeply lined, but he persisted.

“Woah!” Rex stepped up and tried to take his old friend by the wrist. Cody batted his hand away without even looking at him. “Cody, hey, you can’t go yet. You’re not fully healed.”

“I have a duty,” Cody said. “I have to fix my failure.”

Rex bit the inside of his mouth, a sudden fear crossing his mind. “Cody... this can’t be... fixed. He’s... they’re all...” he swallowed hard, his throat so tight that it hurt. “He’s dead. You can’t—”

Cody’s head jerked up sharply.

Rex blinked in the fixed stare those dark eyes were giving him, a penetrating and cold look.

“Dead?” Cody questioned. “...Did someone kill General Kenobi?”

Rex’s heart plummeted.

He doesn’t remember...

“I... yeah, vod. Someone did. But...”

If Rex had thought his heart had stopped before, it was nothing, nothing to what it did when Cody shook his head and said, so very calmly, “I shot him off the cliffside, but I’m sure he survived. It was a controlled fall. The Jedi survived. I failed in my duty. I have to fix it.”

“No,” Rex croaked out. “No... that’s not...”

The door opened again, and Ahsoka stood framed there. She must have overheard, because she was looking at Cody with pity.

Cody locked his gaze on her, drawing himself up to his full height. “Jedi,” he addressed her. “Duty. Have to fulfill.”

“He’s dechipped!” Rex shouted desperately. “I don’t understand!”

“I have to go,” Cody said placidly. “Excuse me. Don’t worry vod. I’ll come home when I’m done.”

“You can’t!” Rex shouldered his way between his brother and his only remaining Jedi, terrified of the serenity of both of them; Ahsoka’s quiet sympathy, Cody’s placid desire to murder a man that was already dead, a man he had loved— “You have to snap out of it, Cody!” Rex bellowed, and shook the man by the shoulders. “Please!”

“But I’m fine, Rex,” Cody said, sounding surprised. “I just have one more thing to do. You saved me from the Empire. But Kenobi must die. It’s my job.”

“It’s not!” Rex screamed. “He’s dead, Cody! Dead! You already killed him, he’s dead, he’s been dead for over a decade! You already killed him!”

He was crying now.

For Cody.

For Obi-Wan.

For himself.

For Ahsoka.

For everyone.

Everyone.

“Excuse me,” Cody said politely, addressing Ahsoka over Rex’s shoulder. “I need to go kill Kenobi. Do you know where he is?”

“You have to fix him,” Rex begged her, struggling to keep Cody in the room. “Please. The Force. Something!”

Ahsoka glanced at him. Then she stepped forward and carefully pressed two fingertips to Cody’s forehead. She closed her eyes.

Cody closed his too, and for a moment there was silence.

Then he slumped in Rex’s arms.

“What - what happened?” Rex demanded, clutching his unconscious friend and looking around at Ahsoka in panic. “Wha—did you fix him?”

She shook her head. “No, Rex. There’s nothing to be done.”

“That’s not true,” argued Rex. “That can’t — don’t be — Ahsoka, we just have to help him!”

“Cody wasn’t ever fully under the chip’s sway,” she whispered. There was an apology in her blue eyes that he did not want, did not want to see. “Like you were - but he - he wasn’t able to resist it like you did. But he was... conscious... beneath the surface.”

No.

“Always beneath the surface.”

An Imperial trooper. Treated like garbage, like something disposable, barely worth keeping. Barely even worth using.

“He knew what was going on. He didn’t know why, but he learned over time. Overheard things.”

Forced to follow orders. Wage war on innocents. Execute innocents.

Cody felt so heavy. Like Rex was holding the weight of all his friend’s trauma instead of just his physical form.

Forced to issue despicable orders. Forced to be a cog in a machine that served the people and ideals he had so hated.

“He was constantly at war with himself. When we removed the chip from Cody’s head...” Ahsoka’s eyes were grieved. One slim hand came to rest against Rex’s shoulder. “His mind wasn’t prepared to cease battle so quickly. It... it broke him, Rex. The two sides of his mind clashed so violently out of nowhere with nothing to control which one was winning, and...”

“No,” Rex repeated. “No.”

“I’m so, so sorry Rex,” whispered Ahsoka. “We tried to bring him back, but he just... came back wrong. There’s nothing that can be done to fix him.”

Rex’s shoulders shook; he stumbled and slipped to the floor, Cody unconscious in his arms and Ahsoka kneeling beside him, her face painted with pain and concern.

Cody. Cody, and his scar, and his stress lines, and his familiar face.

“What... what do I... what...” Rex heaved for air, finding it suddenly so hard to breathe. His chest felt heavy, his throat so tight he almost thought he was being throttled by invisible hands. “What am I supposed... to do? J-just... put him out of his misery?”

Ahsoka took a deep breath.

Held it.

“...I don’t know. He’ll never be right again. He’ll never be...”

“Free,” Rex finished. “He’ll never be free.”

][][][][][

They had tried to heal him. They had tried to recondition him. They had tried erasing his memories of Order 66. They had even tried erasing his memories altogether.

But the broken mind of Commander Cody did not respond to time or treatment.

Most of the time he was calm. Sweet, reasonable, capable of cracking sly jokes.

But the slightest thing that triggered memories of Utupau would set him off.

Asking oh so politely for permission to go seek and kill a man long-dead, a man that he would once have never considered raising so much as a finger against.

He never harmed anyone in his attempts to leave.

But he harmed himself, skipping meals and sleep, banging slowly and repeatedly on closed doors, and demanding over and over and over to be let go.

And it took too much manpower to keep a constant watch on him. Manpower they didn’t have.

...So Rex, eleven years to the day after Order 66, settled his brother in a bed in the medical wing and set everything in order.

Waited for Cody to drift into a natural sleep.

And then, tears sliding silently down his weathered face, Rex pressed the button that would flood Cody’s veins with a drug that would ensure he would never wake again.

Cody slept.

][][][][][

#star wars #star wars fic #commander cody #captain rex #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #darth vader #tw murder #morally ambiguous #order 66

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enigmas-artdeck · 3 years

Text

The Cold Felt Familiar

(Skitters in) HEY Y'ALL WANT ANGST?

Related to this, it’s quite the time with his bud, but not for long~. Buckle up buckaroos, angst is coming.

Also on AO3!

He should've seen it coming, he's used the same trick before. Promises of improvement, strength, power-

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to get him back? You were so close back then, before he was granted his empty title-"

He'd wanted nothing more to burst in and pull 2 havocs in Heaven himself for the sheer disrespect from the Heavenly Court. Bi Wa Men, a lowly stable keeper, wasn't a wonder why he stormed out. Oh yeah, giving him the title Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, only as a way to keep him complacent, that won't turn out bad at all.

"-Being trapped under Five-Finger Mountain-"

He swore, he screamed, he declared, he did everything without care for volume and respect once he found out about the imprisonment. Scoured that mountain for decades, never finding a trace of his friend anywhere. Ran himself raw, searching and pleading for anything or anyone to grant him mercy and let him find his lost companion.

They never did like him anyway.

"-Going on the journey with Golden Cicada and his disciples-"

His blood boiled at that, the journey being the sole reason Wukong was…different. He was still impulsive and hearty, going to Heaven for bi-yearly fights, unafraid to fight anything, chaotic as ever.

But in the fight at the mountains, after stealing Monkie Kid's powers, he knew Wukong was holding back. He heard all the tales (however scrambled they became over the centuries), and had seen himself the power he held. He could've leveled the area and be done with the dispute in mere minutes. They fought, that's true, but the only reason he was beat was because of the kid.

Wukong didn't even have the dignity to strike him down himself, relying on a trainee who'd needed his powers locked up.

It was downright laughable, nay, pathetic at how Wukong was holding back because of one journey.

"-Before he struck you dead."

Oh.

Ah, the one experience he had with death. The one where even after blotting out and ripping his name from the book had him checking over his shoulder and hiding in the shadows for a century in f- caution. It was that long before he realized Wukong did the same thing and no one went after him again (the others don't count, that was Heaven trying to remove his immortality).

Every time he saw his scar, he couldn't help but flinch. It still seemed fresh, still felt raw. His red facial marking didn't help either. (Keeping the glamor was second nature to him after all these centuries. He likes causing nightmares, not having them.)

Wukong didn't hold back then.

He took a deep breath, frosty air chilling his lungs as he turned to the young girl holding the spirit whispering promises laced with shards of ice and flakes of snow.

"Deal." He sneered.

(Macaque didn't want to think about the freezing light crawling down his throat. Too familiar. Too frightening.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

Having a body mate was weird, but he learned to tune it out for the most part. Acquiring her ice abilities gave him an edge no one saw, and having her on energy sensory lookout helped with telling who's who and keeping tabs on the shady folk. Added a bonus in battle since she could warn him of any ambushers.

Though there were a couple...nitpicks he had.

Macaque had noticed with each new shadow clone, they turned just the teeniest shade bluer, thankfully not visibly noticeable to other folk yet.

Oftentimes when he summoned his staff, the spikes were coated in thin layers of ice. He rather let the blood flow from his enemies, thank you (though he rarely did more than a passing glance).

Even his shadow smoke form was tinged blue, frost trailing up the wrapping adorning it.

No matter, Macaque could handle this, he was flexible in his strategies (certainly helped with stealing Sun Wukong's power from the kid.) He would rather do without the personal physical changes.

Despite how many layers he covered himself with, his fur and skin stayed cool to the touch. Was a great help in traveling to the warmer sections of the area. With the drawback of visiting anything below 15 °C intensifying the chill.

His face marking, the brilliant red he associated with power, ferocity, hurt, had blue creeping along his eyes. It looked to be icing out in crystalline patterns if he got close enough to reflections.

And his scar, the reminder of why he didn't just remove the spirit he was housing, stayed iced over even in his current setup in the Flaming Mountains.

Ah well, a quick glamor could fix those up. Right now he needed to strategize a way to get Wukong off Flower Fruit Mountain, separating him from the kid and the menagerie.

(Macaque rose from sleep littered with some cuts and bruising. Didn't notice his camp was a few miles closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. Couldn't notice the blue fading back into gold sclera.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

"What the hell was that?"

Macaque snarled at his reflection, the outline of White Bone Spirit staring back at him with nonchalance.

"I helped you win the battle and retreat, is that not what you wanted?"

It was going so well, Wukong managed to be separated with a few shadow clones and simple visual and vocal glamours. The recent attack (more like stolen power-high frenzy. Paint crudely helped hide the Demon Bull family's emblem) from the Gold and Silver Demon Brothers managed to split the group up. It was a simple send off of the right fakes to the right area after they split.

Once Wukong was below and far enough, Macaque made his entrance discreetly, ambushing him just as the other caught wind of something off.

And it was going great for a while, without his staff Wukong was forced to fight harder. Wasn't close to the levels of Wukong back in the day, but more than the mountain battle. And the sheer thrill of it, seeing his "bud" let loose more, feeling the higher thrum of energy, oh gloriously maddening!

At least until a quick quip about the fake Wukong acting his part of the plan slipped out. Macaque found himself with too warm a liquid dripping out of his nose and mouth, from a punch and kick respectively.

The clarity at which he saw the unfiltered rage made the haze feel less like fog and more like a spotlight.

It was touch and go for a bit after that, but after a harsh, nearly numbing kick had Macaque gasping for breath, he asked for a boost as he wide eyed the threatening advance.

Blinding blues and white crept over his vision's edge, making Wukong's painfully shocked and horrified face the last thing he saw. Macaque regretted calling his power forth.

"I wanted a power boost, not a power surge blackout!"

"You received the power, but you were already on the verge of blacking out. I'm sorry it made you do so-"

"Excuses, excuses, that won't change the fact of what happened." Macaque turned away, only his eyes giving away his surprise, coming face to face with the cyan glow of White Bone Spirit.

"...Since when could you do that?"

"When I'm not active."

"'When I'm not-' you mean to tell me you can pop out willy nilly? You didn't tell me this before?" Exasperation dropped in his tone, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

"It never came up, this situation is different from humans. With your power, I couldn't-"

"I don't care, you're out." Held up his hands, moving forward, wanting to be done and gone from her.

"I'm sorry-" She made no effort move out of his way, so he walked through.

"I don't want an apology, I want you out, gone, see ya! Deal's off, get your ice and leave-!"

"-But the body isn't yours now."

Realization dawned on him once he passed through. Macaque froze.

As in the body stopped responding to any movement he willed.

"Oh, what's wrong? Can't move what was yours?" Cyan and white passed around behind him, swirling in the air as she skimmed her chilled fingers up his neck.

"Well then, I suppose there isn't anything special about you." She cupped his face, drawing in close, her eyes filling his entire vision. In the cold white, he could see his own gold turn deep, icy blue.

"You're just a macaque with nothing left." With that she drew back into the body.

Hundreds of eyes gleamed from the shadows, some stretching out on shapes familiar- himself- but wrong. He willed his body to move forward, to turn, to fall, do anything to get him away from the twisted glowing outlines as they approached.

He didn't even so much as jolt when the screaming skeletal face flooded his internal vision, bringing an icy air with her. Forcing to stare at the eternally screaming maw, dark icy hands grabbed hold and pulled down, with him along.

No sound left him, not even a gasp.

(The bleakness made him want to flee.)

(The chill made him want to scream.)

(The nothing made him want to cry.)

(Macaque did.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

Wukong slammed into the volcano's side, smoke and ash obscuring his vision. Blue cut through the thick black, having him reach back into the lava. Red and black shot to the unwelcome color, but turned to white powder before reaching the target.

"Aw, what's wrong Great Sage?"

Okay, this was bad, this was wa-a-ay bad, but distance was key, if he could get distance he could vanish and regroup with MK-

When did the molten rock turn to ice?

Wukong feverishly tugged at his right side, the ice crawling up his limbs, spreading out over stone and lava alike.

He made the mistake of turning around.

A blue eye with a pinprick snowflake iris nearly touched his own golden eye. Steam rose out past their fangs, doing nothing to help the chill rolling off.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!"

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Chp 13

Characters: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), and more Jedi/clones/politicians than you can shake a stick at.

Summary: that one time Padme throws a big party, Bly cracks jokes, fox hates himself some more, mouse wears matching underwear, and Anakin has a heart to heart.

A/N: Snuggle up Fox Fanciers this boy is stupid long and full of yearning on a level I didn’t know I could yearn. You’ve been warned!

Special thanks as always to @skdubbs and @crimson-dxwn for being my sounding boards and supporters in all this. Love you ladies! 😘

————

“For the love of the Force…” Mouse curses quietly. Padmé was never going to let her live this one down. She turns, admiring herself in the floor length mirror. The kriffing dress was perfect. Like, absolutely perfect. Had she not lost a few kilos since Coruscant she may not have even fit it to begin with but she had and it did and it was all that mattered at the moment.

It was easier to admire the stunning red dress clinging to each curve, cutting off just below her knees than it was to think about him. Yeah, knowing Fox was going to be there and seeing him were two entirely different things. Seeing him had felt… complicated.

There had been a split second when she’d first laid eyes on him in that door, bucket slung under his arm, that she would have done anything he asked just to be near him. The loss she’d felt the first few days on Naboo was nothing in comparison to what she felt when he’d entered the Senator’s office. It was a blessing to be holding Leia, to have Luke as an excuse to leave as soon as she could.

She couldn’t think with him there. Her first instinct had always been to radiate to him, even before she’d really understood that was what she was doing. Fighting that instinct was hard and it hurt, but she didn’t think she had it in her to be that girl anymore. She didn’t know if she could give all of herself again and again to be pushed away when he got scared.

Padmé had said all the activity would be just a few days and then they’d be back to normal. Mouse just had to survive. She’d gotten good at that.

On the way out the door she questions retrieving a shawl. She’d be eating with warriors, battle hardened soldiers. She doubts their delicate sensibilities would be thrown into a tizzy by the sight of her scars. Maybe the more delicate socialites and their wives, but she doesn’t much care for their opinions.

She reaches up to touch the skin of her shoulder as an afterthought. It wasn’t the appearance so much as the feel of it she didn’t like. She hated rubbing the lotion into it, the almost rubbery feeling of the proliferative tissue there, but the doctors had said it was important to keep it softened to prevent it from tightening and contracting over the joint. So, two to three times a day, Mouse let go of her own uneasiness and pressed the special lotion into the skin, rubbed and massaged until the skin was pink with irritation.

The walk to the grand dining room is short and Mouse's heels echo softly down the large hallway. She can hear the conversation before the doors are even opened for her, punctuated by deep, masculine laughter. She’s fashionably late and Padmé raises a brow from her spot across the room. Mouse offers an apologetic smile and the senator returns it. Anakin stands a foot behind his wife. His attention is split between watching her and conversing with his former master.

It’s odd seeing the Jedi, both men, in formal wear. Tuxes just don’t look quite right on them. That’s not to say they don’t cut striking figures - General Kenobi would have his choice of Coruscanti society girls if he marched around the capitol like that. It's just a little wrong to see the Jedi not in their robes.

“Sweetling!” The deep rumble drags her attention from the senator who returns to speaking with the men in front of her, neither of whom Mouse recognizes.

“Marshall Commander,” she greets, turning and accepting a soft kiss on the cheek as Cody draws near.

“Mous’ika,” he chides, using the name he’d obviously heard somewhere.

“Yes, Cody?” she asks sweetly, managing to hold in her giggle until he laughs.

“That’s more like it! How have you been?”

Mouse falls into conversation with the Commander of the 212th. They’d met a handful of times now since she’d arrived in Naboo. The Commander had accompanied his Jedi on more than a few visits and while General Kenobi was spending time with his former Padawan, Cody had taken to having tea with Mouse and Padmé. He was a steady man who loved to gossip over holodramas and sip herbal tea. In another life maybe, Mouse could picture him as a professor, or maybe the owner of a bookshop. Something quiet, studious.

A server makes the rounds as they chat and Cody plucks a flute from a tray and hands it to her. She takes it with thanks. The bubbles tickle her tongue as she takes a drink. Something prickles at the periphery of her senses and she glances around, trying to figure it out what it might be. She shakes off the feeling and gives her full attention to the Marshall Commander in front of her.

“This isn’t either of our particular scenes, I believe. We’ve got to blend in somehow.” He holds up his own tumbler in show, amber liquid and round cubes of ice rolling around in its confines.

“That’s very true. I was afraid I’d get here and be relegated to a wallflower.”

“As if Padme would allow that,” he scoffs.

Mouse laughs again. “Are you always right, Cody?”

“Ask General Kenobi.”

Music plays quietly, a string quartet from Coruscant flown in for just the night, as Mouse falls in at Cody’s side. A few troopers in dress greys stop to chat for a moment here and there and Mouse dutifully smiles and offers polite conversation, laughs at the appropriate times. She recognizes some here and there, a scar or tattoo sticking out in her memory, all Commanders with the occasional Lieutenant thrown in for color. She feels the sensation again and can finally place it. It’s as if someone is watching her. Cody offers her a questioning look as she glances around again. She flashes a smile and shrugs. She was being silly. No one was watching her.

“Are you still sponsoring the little girl on Coruscant?” Cody asks, making polite conversation.

“Me’kar? Yes, I actually just received a comm from her guardian the other day. She’s doing well, picking up basic incredibly fast.” Mouse had started sponsoring the child shortly after her arrival, not able to get her bright smile and sweet eyes out of her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for the children’s home to accept sponsorships to supplement the small stipends they received from the Republic. It cost money to keep the children dressed and fed and extras could be more than the budget allotted for. Mouse was more than happy to do it and the updates and occasional holo from the little girl were bright notes in her week.

“Have you given more thought to adopting her?” Cody asks knowingly, as if it was a forgone conclusion.

“I’m still thinking.” Mouse shrugs. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the little girl and what it would be like to come home to her everyday, to be a mother to a child that needed one. She’d once harbored a silly dream of a family with one clone commander and little Me’kar playing a starring role. Now she still thought of a family, but maybe just of two and not three. Cody glances over her shoulder, a smile splitting his features. Mouse turns and sees, arguably, the most beautiful Twi’lek woman in the galaxy wrapped in a body contouring dress that looks nearly painted on.

“Have you met General Secura? Let me introduce you. She may be able to answer some of the questions you have.”

———

Aayla Secura was wonderful. Mouse found herself completely enthralled with the twi’lek woman as she spoke of Ryloth, customs, and traditions. The Jedi didn’t think her idea of adopting Me’kar to be improper and encouraged her. Family was important for her people and she didn’t believe any child should grow up without the opportunity to have one.

“I would encourage you to fill out whatever application needs to be started immediately. Bring the little one here or raise her on Coruscant, either way it sounds like you’ve been thinking a great deal on it. You’ve asked such important questions. The rest is all just figuring things out as you go.”

Mouse can’t help the bright smile she flashes. Aayla glances over her shoulder as Mouse takes a swallow of her second glass of bubbly. It’s sweet on her tongue and reminds her of Fall orchard fruits, crisp and delightful. She’s just a little bit more relaxed than she’d been an hour ago as the alcohol works to relax her nerves when she thinks she feels eyes again. She’s quick to laugh it off as nerves - she hadn’t been around so many people in ages.

“Have you met my Commander Bly yet?”

Mouse wonders on “my” for a moment, but as soon as the Commander is at the Jedi’s side she wonders no more. He stands close, closer than to be expected and his hand rests along the cutout in the Jedi’s dress for just a moment longer than is proper as he greets her.

“I’m rounding up stragglers, sir,” he says with a half smile, turning and offering Mouse a nod. She holds out a hand and Aayla introduces her. Bly has a moment when his brows twitch up in unison before he takes her hand and shakes it gently. “If you ladies would care to, I believe we're supposed to take our seats for dinner.”

Bly offers his arm to his general and she slips hers through it, allowing him to guide her. Mouse follows a half a step behind as they move to the grand hall. Large round tables are set up under sparkling chandeliers. Mouse tries to break off to a smaller one, out of the way and to the side of the room, but it seems Cody has taken up the rear behind the trio. He takes her arm gently as she tries to veer off.

“I believe you were assigned a seat of importance, Sweetling.”

Mouse shakes her head. She really was only here because Padmé wouldn’t hear of her not being there. She tries to explain to Cody as Bly glances over his shoulder. A look passes between the two troopers.

“I’m sure there’s at least one seat left at the head table.”

Mouse watches as Aayla gives her Commander a questioning look. She swears she sees him wink.

She’s not watching where he guides her, still gently trying to plead her case. She looks to her left and sees Padmé smiling brightly and knows she won’t back her up in her decision to hide in the shadows. Cody pulls the chair out for her as she offers him a grumpy look. He chuckles and captures her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Mouse feels her cheeks flame, too flustered to come up with anything in response. She doesn’t pay attention to the set of greys next to her as Cody nods and she slides into her seat. Not until he walks to his own seat beside General Kenobi does Mouse turn to introduce herself.

And comes face to face with the Commander of the Coruscant Guard.

Fox is leaned back in his seat, brow raised in her direction. He radiates slow simmering irritation.

“I- I’m sorry” she doesn’t know why she’s apologizing. She had nothing to do with this. Her eyes dart around frantically trying to find any other option, an escape, but all the other seats are full and the last of the guests are taking their places at the other tables. If she got up now she’d only draw more attention to herself.

Fox says nothing as he turns back to his drink and Bly on his other side. Mouse stares down at her plate, her stomach already twisting into knots. She throws back her drink, downing the rest in one swallow. A passing waiter offers her another and she readily accepts. Maybe if she’s just a little bit drunk this wouldn’t be so bad.

Padmé clears her throat and all eyes fall to where she stands at the head of their table. She’s resplendent, of course, in a loose cream gown that drapes her in the most eye pleasing of ways. Even if she didn’t have an air about her that demanded attention, her wardrobe choice alone would have done the job.

“I’d like to begin by thanking everyone for their company on this lovely evening. As I’m sure you’ve heard,” she says as if she’s letting the room in on a grand secret, “we’ve recently welcomed our first children into the world.” The small gathered crowd laughs as if on cue. Mouse glances to the other tables. She didn’t know faces, but she’d dutifully typed all the names into the guest list Padmé had dictated. They were some of the most influential individuals in the outer rim. Padmé has thought to treat this evening as a soft unveiling of the plan she’d eventually propose to the senate. It was a test crowd of her peers. She’d use their reaction to modify and gauge where to go from here.

“Now,I find being a mother is much like being a senator. There is always something that needs doing and a mother’s work, much like a senators, is never done.” She offers a smile as she glances from one side of the room to the other.

“The men and women I have invited here today,” she gestures to the clones and Jedi around her “are very familiar, also, with work that never seems to be done. These are the Marshall Commander and Commanders who keep the Grand Army of the Republic afloat. They and their men risk their lives for a Republic which has given them nothing in return, and for that,” Padmé gives a gentle smile around the table, “I want to be the first to openly admit that we have done them a grave disservice.”

Mouse glances to see the wait staff lining up along the walls with the first course. She really does try to pay attention to what the senator has to say, but Fox is so close. She can imagine she wouldn’t have to move far to be back against his chest, feel his hot breath against her skin. Maybe he’d wrap his arm around her, hold her tight, whisper sweet things in her ear-

Maker, she was pathetic. Her stomach turns in agreement.

“Throughout this evening I hope each and every one of you enjoy yourselves, and I also hope that you take a moment to give these brave men some of the gratitude that we, as a Republic, have denied them for far too long. Something I hope we will begin to change in the not so distant future.”

Polite clapping erupts as staff circles the tables and places the first course in one impressively synchronized movement. As Padmé sits, her husband leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. Mouse looks away.

The food looks good. Or at least it should. Mouse had helped pick out the menu herself. Crudité, a small salad of exotic fruit, a light dressing. It should be perfect. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it if the sound of silver clinking against china meant anything. She takes a bite and chews carefully - it has all the depth and flavor of sawdust.

“I didn’t realize you had a type.”

Mouse glances at Fox who is firmly staring at his own plate, chewing as if nothing is amiss. He’d always looked good in his greys but he looks utterly delicious now. His hair is longer and his face is shaved clean of its usual five-o’clock shadow.

“Excuse me?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t take you for a trooper chaser.”

The food very nearly gets stuck in her throat as she attempts to swallow. She takes a pull of wine from her glass, coughing lightly.

“Everything ok, Mous’ika?” Cody asks from across the table, concern evident.

Retrieving her napkin from her lap, Mouse covers her next cough. “I’m fine, Cody.” She tries to give him a reassuring look from behind the fabric. “Must have forgotten to chew,” she jokes awkwardly. At her side Fox makes a low sound. Cody glances between the pair of them for a moment before turning back to General Kenobi at his side.

“Cody,” Fox says, and Mouse catches the quick flash of brown eyes. “I seem to remember it took nearly a year for you to say my name. You’re moving faster.”

“Why are you saying this?” she questions. Why would he think such a thing? She hadn’t done anything that deserved such an accusation. He shrugs before turning to Bly and asking him a question about field munitions.

It leaves Mouse's head spinning. No one else seems to notice as they all speak quietly to one another.

“Commander Bly? General Secura?” Bail looks to the other side of the table and the pair. “What are your feelings on Senator Amidala’s personhood bill I sent you?”

“Far be it from me to dislike a law that makes me human,” Bly cracks. A round of laughter rises among the other troopers present. Aayla rolls her eyes at her Commander in an unmistakably fond way.

“What I believe the Commander is trying to say Chancellor, is that it is a more than welcome change to the status quo.”

“I was trying to say that?”

“Yeah, the vocabulary seems a bit past him,” Fox cracks dryly.

Aayla looks from one to the other. “Force I wish General Koon and Commander Wolffe could have been here. Maybe than you’d remember how to behave.”

“The ori’vod is the one who taught us,” Bly offers with faux indignation.

Obi-wan manages to smother a chuckle, though a smile still tugs at his lips. “Master Plo Koon sends his deepest apologies. The Wolffe pack is still firmly entrenched on their mission and he didn’t feel it appropriate to leave them.”

There’s a general consensus of agreement among the group. Mouse catches General Kenobi's occasional glances around the table, the majority of them falling between Commander Bly and his General.

“Senator Amidala,” he begins, his voice pensive, “How do you propose to introduce your personhood bill?”

Padmé gives a warm smile. She’d been waiting for this; Mouse can tell by the way her eyes sharpen and the slight quickening of her voice. “I think we need to show the public that it’s not only the GAR that stands behind the Clones, but also the Jedi Order as well.”

Mouse makes a small sound of dissent, feeling Fox adjust next to her.

“Mous’ika?” Cody questions, “Do you not agree with the senator?” Mouse looks embarrassed as she glances Padmé’s way, but the senator looks more curious than anything. Mouse gathers her thoughts while she finishes her glass of wine. A passing server goes to refill the glass but, at her side, Fox waves him off. She wants to glare at him, but all eyes are on her, waiting.

“I’m no politician, so I’m not sure my opinion should amount to anything,” she begins, “but general public opinion about the Jedi Order is not…” She looks apologetically at the few Jedi at the table “Well, it’s not good right now.”

There’s some concerned looks flying her way. Bless. It was easy to miss what was happening at home when one was in a war zone the majority of the time.

She reaches for where her wine should be and grabs a glass of water that hadn't been there a moment ago. She takes a sip before speaking again.

“It would be a poor decision to align solely with the Order on this one, I feel. Just a look at the holonews and you’ll see articles and op-eds questioning the Jedi’s involvement in the war.”

Fox clears his throat.

“She’s right” How sweet it was to hear those words. “We’re dealing with domestic terrorism on an unprecedented level. Nothing that we can’t handle but it’s something to take into consideration. The public feels like the Order has overstepped its bounds. It lacks policing of its own.” Fox holds up his hand when Obi-wan goes to speak. “While that may not be the case, in the court of public opinion the Order is guilty more than it is not.”

Mouse can feel him looking at her, handing the reins back over. “The average Coruscanti already is apprehensive of such a large military force within their presence. It’s going to take some doing to convince them to see the troopers as anything but soldiers awaiting orders” she finishes diplomatically.

There are speculative looks and nods around the table. “Much to think about,” Bail agrees, taking a slow sip of wine. His eyes linger between her and Fox for far longer than she likes. “Thank you.”

Mouse nods, her cheeks glowing hot from the attention. Her hand brushes against Fox’s as she sets it back down on the table. Her fool’s heart skips a beat when he doesn’t pull away immediately. She fights the urge to lace her little finger with his. Luckily, the next course comes and they both have to adjust to the changing of plates.

Her stomach is still turning in loops and food is still not something that sounds appealing in the slightest as the main course comes out. She doesn’t even remember what it’s supposed to be. It looks like it was probably delicious, roasted meat and delicate fresh vegetables sautéed to perfection. She takes a few testing bites but her plate remains mostly untouched.

“Quit pushing your food around and eat”. Of course she hasn’t forgotten Fox is sitting next to her. It must have been too much to hope he had forgotten about her.

Again, when she glances his direction he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. She doesn’t acknowledge he’s said anything and listens in quietly as the others at the table chat.

She takes another bite and chews slowly before swallowing.

“Come on, another,” he says. This time something is softer about his voice. When Mouse looks she sees him glancing at her.

Her chest tightens uncomfortably. Why did she give him the power to do this?

“Mouse.”

She thinks for a moment that she just might be imagining things. Under the table Fox’s booted foot knocks softly against hers letting her know she wasn’t. This wasn’t fair.

“Eat.” It’s a soft plea. He didn’t get to be soft with her anymore. He didn’t get to give orders. He’d lost those privileges.

“I’m not hungry.”

Fox’s head turns slowly at her words. “You could have fooled me. You look like a strong wind could blow you away.”

“Let it go, Commander. You're being ridiculous,” she manages to whisper under her breath. She doesn’t realize the table has gone quiet, that half a dozen or more pairs of eyes are watching them. Fox hasn’t either.

“There are faster ways to kill yourself than starvation. I’m sure you remember at least one other way.” The sudden acid in his voice hides the sound of frustration and strikes a direct hit.

Mouse has never considered herself a dramatic person, far from it really. So the rapidly rising urge to turn and punch him in the eye comes as a surprise. The anger behind it is soon replaced by mortification when she realizes that everyone has gone quiet.

Cody’s jaw is set into a tight line, the antithesis of Bly’s slackened one. Both Aayla and Bail are staring down at their plates. Mouse doesn’t look at the others.

Fox is frozen at her side, unmoving and unspeaking. Horror is dawning in his eyes as she pulls the napkin off her lap and places it in her still full plate.

His hand fumbles reaching for hers under the table but she skitters out of his reach.

“If you’ll excuse me?” She addresses the gathered group, “I’ll be back shortly.” Hot angry tears are already starting to swell in her eyes as she pushes away from the table and makes her way from the great room. She manages to keep it together until she’s in the guest wing. She doesn’t slide to the floor in a heap til she’s in her room.

She doesn’t return to dinner.

————

“You know I remember it all.”

The words catch Fox by surprise. He picks up the tumblr resting along the stone terrace wall and takes a drink as he looks at the Jedi - former Jedi- he didn’t even know what Anakin Skywalker was anymore.

“Congratulations?” Bitterness is already brewing in his gut. First Mouse and now this? Could it get any worse? Could a man not drink away his self-loathing in peace?

“The first time I met the Chancellor I was a child, but I remember it like it was just this morning. He smiled at me. It was like having someone see me for the first time. Like my Mother. Like Qui-Gon-“

Fox isn’t in the mood for this.

“-as I got older his attention focused on me. He honed me. Groomed me for something-“

“That’s great, sir, really.” He’d failed to hold back his acidic comments when Mouse had been near. Now that it was Skywalker he doesn’t even care to try.

“Shift it Fox and listen to what the kriff I’ve got to say.”

Fox brings the glass to his lips and finishes it in one long, slow pull before taking it and throwing it out into the placid lake below. It would have felt better had it smashed. The urge to break something has been simmering on the back burner all night. Skywalker was bringing it to a rapid boil.

“And what are you trying to say Jetii? Your life story means to me about as much as sith spit.”

Something dangerous flares in the other man’s eyes. “We’re the same, you and I.”

Fox barks a laugh, a bitter stagnant sound as he feigns turning away for just a moment only to spin right back. “You and I are nothing alike. Are you one of millions? Does your order see you as interchangeable battle fodder? Tell me your serial number, sir.”

“Your loyalty is unquestionable. You would do anything for the people you care about.” Anakin seems undeterred by Fox’s growing ire. “We both love women who are far stronger than we gave them credit for-“

“Shut up.” Fox’s voice is low, a warning growl from a wounded animal. He’d already hurt someone he’d claimed to love, said something ugly and cruel. It wouldn’t take much effort to get him to throw a swing against the man in front of him.

“-we think we know best. Sometimes we do. Then we let our own ego get in the way and we hurt the ones we love with our good intentions.”

“What about shut up don’t you understand?” Fox takes a step forward, chest out. He wants this to escalate.

“What I don’t understand is how you can take a girl like her and purposefully hurt her. I watched her put a blaster to her-“

“ENOUGH!” Any cool Fox had left vanishes as he closes the space between them. His finger jabs into the other man’s chest, punctuating his point. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to talk about that night.”

How dare he. In the end, who was he but Sidious’s favorite lap dog? Rage boils over as Anakin steps into the jabbing finger, making Fox take an unwanted step back.

“Yeah? You want to go there? Pretty sure I remember being there just as much as you were. I was also there when your blaster killed Fives.”

Fox can’t hide the way he flinches at the name.

Anakin takes a slow even breath before he speaks again. “Fox, I’m not going to say I didn’t want to turn the damn thing on you and put two through your composite -Jedi way be damned- but I can look back and remember what your face looked like. When you stepped in the corner where you didn’t think anyone could see? You didn’t want to shoot Fives. You didn’t want to kill your brother.”

Fox closes his eyes, tipping his head up toward the night sky.

“She knew that too-“

“You think I don’t realize what she was doing? You think I don’t realize she was ready to sacrifice herself so I didn’t have to kill someone else I - “ He opens his eyes focusing back on the Jedi.

“But you didn’t feel her in the Force like I did. I was as much of a mess as any of us but you know what I felt coming from her?”

Fox shakes his head. He doesn’t want to know.

“Resolve. Love and resolve. She would have done anything to keep you safe. She was the only steady one of us all.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” He’d seen it in Mouse’s eyes, that decision she’d made and would have followed through with. For him. The nightmares where she had to follow through still found him, the ones with her wide eyes staring up blank and glassy while smoke rose in tendrils from her head.

“Because we're the same. Our love was used as fuel for manipulation. It was a tool to gain our compliance. I saw a future where Padmé died. Over and over and Palp- Sidious made me think I could stop it. If I did what he said I could stop it all. Then he was dead and I still had the dream. But you know what? She would have died at my hands because of me, because of my blind, fumbling attempt to prevent it in the first place and my children -” Emotion swells in his voice.

“When I watched you tonight, when I heard what you said, I saw those very blind steps I had been taking all over again. Stop it, Fox. She doesn’t deserve it.” Anakin stops and takes a deep breath,

“You don’t deserve it. Let the pain stop.”

Fox drags himself away from the Jedi, turning his back to stare out at the expanse of water below. “There’s no fixing what I’ve done”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“And I think you’re a fool.”

———-

Fox feels spent. Physically and emotionally exhausted, riding the fallout of an adrenaline surge down to rock bottom after his confrontation with Skywalker.

He’s ready for bed. He needs a solid six hours of sleep. Maybe a coma?

He wasn’t pleased with the continued attempts by others to force something with Mouse that was obviously not meant to be. He wasn’t pleased with his own behavior in response to it. He wasn’t a Hutuun, but he had certainly acted like one. Honestly, he'd rather take the butt of a blaster to his head as opposed to thinking about it anymore.

He tried to think of something else. Personhood. Not in a million lifetimes did Fox think someone as powerful as the Chancellor of the Republic or one of its most brilliant senators would take up the torch for him and his brothers. It was bound to be a controversial bill but after listening to Bail and Padmé speak, it didn’t seem so overwhelming. It was a real possibility that the end of the war wasn’t going to mean the proverbial scrap heap. The end of the war could mean citizenship, recognition, lives outside of battle and the GAR.

The thought left him a little lightheaded - or maybe that was the Alderaanian wine that had been flowing.

He tries to rein in his excitement at the thought. If Fox had learned one thing in his time in Coruscant and among politics it was that politicians were exceptionally good at dragging their shebs when it came to anything good. It would require finesse and more than a little debate for the good Senator to see her plans to fruition. If anyone could do it, it was Padmé. The time frame in which she could do it was up for debate. Fox raises a brow as he looks down the hall. If the sound coming from General Secura’s room meant anything, there was some very brisk debating going on between the General and her Commander.

Fox tries not to look at Mouse’s door as he goes to his own. He tries not to think about what personhood would mean for his vode that had broken regs and found something to fight for outside of the GAR.

Fox is barely in his door, already bending to remove his boots when he hears it, a soft plaintive voice in the hall. It’s instantly familiar. He’s already cursing himself. He’d done enough to her tonight. Obviously, he’d proven that he couldn’t be in the same room without hurting her. He hears her voice again and he’s pulling the door open without a second thought.

Mouse is leaning half in the hallway. “Hello?”

The disaster that had been dinner flashes in his mind's eye as do Skywalker’s words from a short time ago.

Let the pain stop.

Clearing his throat, he steps into the hall.

“Oh Maker...” it’s not the exact thing he was hoping to hear as she laid eyes on him, but he’s sure it’s no less than he deserves. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

Fox gives her an appraising look. Her cheeks were hot and flushed even before she’d seen him and the gown she’d worn to dinner is still firmly in place. Her gentle eyes are rimmed in red. She looks just as stunning as she had a few hours ago.

The foundation his resolve has been built upon continues to crumble.

He chides himself. That foundation had never been strong, not when he’d asked Bail to transfer her, not when he’d seen her in her hospital room, certainly not when she’d given him the cold shoulder earlier when they’d arrived. It seemed everything about Mouse worked to destroy the barrier he’s tried to erect between them.

“What’s wrong?” He asks gruffly. He’s tired from travel and of the mental gymnastics he’d been putting himself through. Mostly though he was tired of feeling like he was fighting with both her and himself.

Mouse's eyes dart each way down the hallway as if looking for someone else to save the day. She isn’t that lucky. A particularly loud moan coming from Secura’s room emphasizes that point.

“My dress-“ a new wave of red blooms in her cheeks, “the zipper is stuck. I’ve been trying for nearly an hour and…” She glances down at the floor and her bare feet. He hates that she won’t look at him but he’s done nothing to earn that honor now has he?

He huffs taking a breath and a leap. “If you don’t hate the idea of my help, I’m willing to offer it.”

Mouse's eyes slowly rise back to his. “I-“ she’s making a decision as well. He can see it written across her face. Maker, he thinks, please give me this one chance.

“Yes. Please.” She stutters out her answer, pulling away from the door frame and moving into the suite. She glances over her shoulder as she moves as if she’s afraid he wouldn’t actually follow.

Mouse stops near a small dressing table with brushes and makeup laid out on its top. A full size mirror is immediately to its side. She watches him in the reflection. It’s the first time since the hospital on Coruscant that Fox has been alone with her. That feels like so long ago, another life and time. They’re two different people now.

He steps carefully into her space as if one off movement would spook her and this would all end. This close he can smell the soft floral perfume she’s dabbed on. He can feel the heat radiating from her. Equal parts comfort and temptation rolled in one.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says suddenly. Skywalker’s words haunt him. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.” Mouse’s head cocks to the side as she watches him.

“Why did you then? I’m certainly not Cody’s type and-“

“And what?”

She steals herself. Fox can see the deep breath she takes before she speaks again, “even if I was, my interest will always lie elsewhere.”

The meaning of her words strike home. “Me? After everything?”

“It was always you.” She admits softly.

She still- she still cared for him? After everything? After he’d nearly killed her. After he left her maimed. After he pushed her away over and over.

More of the wall crumbles. All he’d have to do now is take one big step and he could be over it.

“So, this zipper you were talking about?” He deflects, needs another minute to think because there's too much to sort through and he can’t make more mistakes. Not with Mouse. Not with them.

She nods softly toward her left side, pulling her arm forward to show the jammed apparatus. Fox closes his eyes. Her scars stand proudly from under the thin straps of her dress. When he opens them he catches Mouse watching him in the reflection, her look is sad.

“I can find someone else-“

His hand immediately drops to her hip as she tries to walk away, pulling her back and erasing the laughable space in between them. The shock shows on both of their faces.

“Easy,” he manages, and after a moment she settles against him. His thumb rubs small circles over her waist and he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or himself. “I’m just coming up with a plan of action.” That draws a small smile from her but it’s all the encouragement he needs. “You need help taking your hair down?” He turns his head, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft strands still secured in their up-do.

It’s an absolute sithshit question, she had two working arms she could remove all the pins and clips herself, they both know this. Fox just wants- he wants more time. He wants to be ready to look at the damage he’s done and not feel repulsed by it. To maybe, just maybe, not hate himself when he looks at it.

“I- yeah, that would be helpful.” She says quietly after a moment. She sits on the stool in front of the mirror, her eyes following his actions with apprehension and curiosity. Fox takes a steadying breath and begins.

He’s never done this before, that is to say done anything more than held hairpins passed to him by senators like Padme and Chuchi on a transport after an event when they complained of the intricate styles giving them headaches or had simply needed to feel free of the bindings of senate formality. He’s seen enough though, and begins to work slowly from the base of her skull working up to the crown of her head. Mouse holds out her hand and he drops the thin pins in as he goes. As her hair begins to spill down, he watches her transform before his eyes back into the mouse he’d always known. Loose waves frame her face, still painted to perfection. Her red lips part and a soft breath escapes her as he massages his fingers along her scalp. Tension melts from her shoulders and she begins to lean back into him as his fingers rake through her hair, untangling strands until they slip smoothly through her fingers.

“You're going to make me fall asleep if you keep that up,” she says finally. The ghost of a smile crosses his face.

“Come on then. Stand up. Let’s get this thing undone before you have to sleep in it.” The stool is pushed to the side as she stands, and Fox moves a half a step back so he can see what he’s doing.

“The chain,” she says softly, catching his attention. “Unclasp it first, before the zipper. I can’t reach that at all.”

The thin gold chain hangs low on her bare back, spanning the distance between the straps of her dress. It glitters temptingly in the light, just like it had when he’d seen it earlier at dinner, when his mouth had gone dry at the mere sight of her.

Fox meets her eyes in the mirror as his hand moves softly from her right hip, up and over her back. His fingers drag feather-light over the bare skin they find. Mouse's eyes flutter shut and he can see her inhale deeply. Her skin was still as soft as he remembered. He gently scoops her hair to one side, over her right shoulder. Her eyes are still closed.

“Breathe, precious girl,” he orders softly, fighting a wince at the pet name that slips out. If Mouse cares, she doesn’t let on. She exhales slowly, opening her eyes at the end. Her pupils take a moment to adjust back to the light. “Am I ok?” he asks quietly.

“Are you?” There’s no heat or snark in her words. She’s staring at him, genuinely curious.

“I think so.” His fingers find the tiny gold catch holding the chain in place and it opens with ease.

“Can you- do you think you can do the zipper. If it’s too much to look at I-“

Fox stops her with a low sound. She hadn’t looked unsure or self conscious in the gown she wore all night. He wasn’t going to be the one to make her question it now. He’d already done enough.

“I’m good.”

He gently presses her left arm forward to gain access. He takes a steading breath as he looks down. The scarring spills across her shoulder, two shades lighter than her normal skin tone. He’s seen plenty of burns in his career and this wasn’t the worst but it feels like it is because he was the cause of it. A few centimeters more and he would have missed her entirely. A few centimeters the other way and-

His fingers move to the gown, easily plucking open the hook and loop closure at the top of the zipper. Mouse sucks in a sharp breath as the tips of his finger skim along the bare skin there.

“Is this ok?” he asks. She nods mutely. “I need words, Mouse,” he urges as gently as he can muster.

“It’s good.” Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks, “Go- go ahead.”

Fox can hear his heart beating in his skull. He can hear the rush of air through his lungs. Everything feels loud as his fingers slowly work at the jammed zipper. Mouse’s breathing is shallow as his fingers press into her, as they pull and twist until whatever has been keeping the closure jammed comes loose and it slides down. His fingers trail behind the zipper as it falls open.

He looks up to find her eyes on him again in the mirror's reflection. Her pupils are blown wide and her lips are parted. Fox feels the beginning wave of blood rush to his groin, the surge only becoming stronger as Mouse slowly - carefully - reaches up and slides the right strap of her gown down. She doesn’t look away from his reflection as her hand trails across her collarbone to the left strap. She pauses as if waiting for him to tell her to stop.

Fox puts the tips of his fingers over hers and together they lower the strap. He can see the rest of the scar now, can really get a feel for the size and the shape of it. It’s glossy compared to the surrounding area, as if her skin had been pulled too tight and frozen that way. She slides her fingers from the strap - laying flat against her lower arm - up, bringing his fingers along with it.

“Does it hurt?” The question slips out as her fingers glide over the surface.

“Not usually. It pulls sometimes,” she says softly, “They both do. I use lotion, try to get it massaged a couple times a day.” Fox’s eyes lock on hers. “The other option was worse.”

That’s right. She could be dead. He’s tried not to think of that the last few months, so trapped in his own guilt about hurting her that each time the psych droid brought it up he immediately countered with how she wasn’t and she had to live with what he’d done to her.

“Can I…?” He glances down and then back up. Mouse gives him a tense smile and a nod.

It feels different from how skin is supposed to feel. It feels thicker, less textured missing the fine hair that covered the rest of her arm. He traces the outline of it. It had only been glancing, the distal part of her shoulder taking the brunt of the burn from the bolt. His fingers map out the boundaries twice before he comes to a stand still.

He doesn’t want to stop touching her.

“Where’s your lotion?”

She doesn’t question him. He can see it in her eyes, in the split second of hesitation. She doesn’t want this to stop either.

One arm moves across her chest to hold her gown in place while the other reaches to the dressing table and wraps around a bottle. Fox takes it when offered and squeezes a small amount into his hand.

He’s taking that step over his wall, he realizes. It doesn’t feel like much of an obstacle anymore anyway as it lays in crumbles at his feet.

Her skin is warm under his touch, no real difference between the good tissue and the scarred as far as temperature is concerned. He works the lotion into her skin pressing his thumb in firm circles from the edges to the center. Mouse lets out a tiny sigh and it’s becoming more difficult to ignore the desire roiling in his belly.

“Fox…” he hums in response to the soft moan of his name, “it feels so good.”

“I missed you, Cyar’ika.” He offers tentatively as he presses in close, aligning her back against his chest. His free arm wraps around her waist holding her lightly against him. His hand falls away from her skin and his mouth descends to pepper soft kisses. She was warm. She was alive. she could be dead but she wasn’t and in the end it was because of his actions that he could still hold her, still hear the soft hitch in her breath as he sucks gently at the juncture where her shoulder and neck meet.

Mouse’s head tips, offering him more room. Her arm falls away from her dress and reaches back behind her, cradling the back of Fox’s while he sucks a mark into her skin. A sea of red flutters to the floor as the dress falls. Fox growls as he looks up and sees the pair of them, him still in his greys and her naked except for a small lacy pair of red panties. His red. From there his eyes travel up, finding the other shot he fired.

The scarring to her right flank is worse than the shoulder; he can see the puckered skin and the patterned appearance of healed grafting but he doesn’t feel the wave of guilt he’s felt earlier. She was alive and hot in his arms.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands quietly against her skin, “make me stop.”

Mouse’s hips press back against the hard line of his erection straining in his greys. Another low growl spills from his lips as he spins her around. Her lips are on his in an instant, messy and desperate as she presses up and into him. Her teeth pull at his lower lip. “Fox…”

His hands cradle her face as he slots his mouth over hers, breathing in the air she gives him like a gift from Fett himself. He can feel the press of her breasts against his chest, the way her hands wrapped around him and gripped at his back.

It was a dream. It had got to be. If it was, it was the first good one he’d had in months. Mouse whines quietly as his hands slide down and grips her hips as if they were the only thing tethering him to this reality. It’s too much and he should stop but he can’t because what he should do and what he wants to do are too wildly incompatible. His fingers graze over the pebbled skin of her right flank. Mouse inhales sharply.

“Stop.” The word leaves her mouth with sudden desperation, like it had been pulled from her body unwillingly. It’s like a bucket of cold water thrown over Fox as he jerks away.

Mouse turns from him, shaking her head as she snatched up a robe and quickly wraps it around herself. They’re both panting quietly.

He’d done something wrong, misread her signals. He was scum. He was an idiot. He should-

“I can’t do this again” She’s still breathless when she speaks, ruby lipstick smeared over swollen lips. “Fox look at me.” She demands quietly when he tries to turn away. “You can’t do this to me again.”

“Do what?” He can hear the desperation in his voice, he sounds pathetic.

She looks at him for a moment before she moves closer to him. He wants to turn away. He doesn’t want to hear how he’s ruined everything, how everything has become clear but it was now too late.

Her hand comes up softly to his cheek as she looks at him through dark lashes. Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“You can’t make me want you again, not if you're going to push me away when things get hard.” She has her free arm crossed over her chest. Her tone isn’t as strong as her words. They waiver as they fall from her lips.

He wants to make her every promise in the book before he even knows if he can keep them and it’s not about getting his dick wet.

He misses her. Has missed her every single day since the horrible event in the Chancellor’s office.

He misses her smile - the soft one she saved just for him. He misses the way she viewed the world from a different but similar way he did. He misses planning for a future with her even if he hadn’t told her any of it. Most of all he misses the quiet moments, the times when they would just lay together and enjoy being near one another.

“It was all for you Cyar’ika.” He says with force, as if he said it sure enough he’d convince her that every action he’d ever made in regards to her was completely selfless.

“Kriff” she curses, shaking her head. Her hand falls away and he misses the warm feeling of her skin against his, “you of all people-“ she mutters under her breath before speaking clearly.

“I get to make choices Fox. When it comes to my life, I get to weigh the risks and benefits and I get to make choices. You took that away from me. Have I loved being here?” she asks, gesturing around at the sumptuous suite, “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t, but would I have rather been with you? Do you know that answer.”

Fox shakes his head.

“That’s right! Because you never asked. The truth is I would have rather been with you every minute of every day of the last three months. Doing paperwork, writing schedules, reviewing supply requisitions, it wouldn’t have mattered because I’d have been with you.”

“Cyar’ika, I didn’t-“

“No Fox, you didn’t think.” She sniffs lightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life and you pushed me away. You turned your back on me when I needed you and now? Now you’re here and we fall into our old patterns? Not again. Not unless you can promise me you are in this 100% because I can’t do it again. My heart just can’t.”

Fox reaches out and swipes a trailing tear with his thumb “I-“ She leans into his touch, her cheek resting against his palm as her eyes drift shut. Just one second. she allows herself that. She straightens and steps away before his eyes can memorize the image of her.

“No, don’t say anything right now. Leave. Think. Decide what it is you really want. If it’s me you can find me and let me know.” There’s a finality to her words that has him biting back any response he may have made. She steps into him, rising up on her toes and gently bumping her forehead against his own.

“I do love you,” he says quietly.

Mouse blows out a ragged breath. “I know. You just need to decide if that’s going to be enough.” She moves toward the door, opening it. “Goodnight Fox.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox/reader #tcw

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fangirlfics · 4 years

Text

Reunited part 1 (Cal Kestis x reader love triangle)

(this is how y/n’s Armour looks)

word count: 2,001

summary: y/n, a former jedi and current bounty hunter attempts to capture Cal to collect a bounty however upon realizing he’s an old friend she changes her mind. (love triangle)

When order 66 had been executed hundreds of jedis had been slaughtered by their own troops. Everything erupted into chaos soon after, and the jedi order fell. Y/n was only a padawan when it all happened. She had witnessed her master switch sides and turn against her and she had watched many of her friends parish. Although she didn’t know what became of her best friend Cal Kestis hope for his survival faded away with each day that passes. One year after the horrific events of order 66 she had been discovered by a young boy her age named Jeremy. He was a bounty hunter--like his older brother-- and in time she also adapted the skills of a bounty hunter. Now five years after the order was made, the three of them were a part of a small group (her force sensitivity and past had still been undiscovered.) And her and Jeremy’s relationship had shifted into something that no longer was as simple as a ‘friendship’. Although he could be manipulative at times and blame other people for his own faults, he was all that she really had. Without him and his gang of bounty hunters what would she do? How would she survive? So now laying atop a building on Zeffo, y/n stared through her scope contemplating all of her decisions within the past five years, including all of those people she had hunted down for a dumb bounty. Lately her line of work bothered her--especially considering the fact that being a bounty hunter went against every moral code that the jedi had taught. What if he made it to an escape pod too? Y/n thought, letting her thoughts drift back to Cal. The Star Destroyer that they were stationed at did have a few escape pods after all, so it was possible that he got away. But there were so many of them She remembered, picturing the shooting clones. She shook her head forcing her thoughts about her former friend (and crush) out.

“I have eyes on the target, he’s headed your way.” y/n heard her partner, Jeremy say through the other end of her receiver, “you ready? Remember, he’s got a droid with him.”

“That bounty's practically already ours.” She confirmed, pushing down her guilt. “Just gotta wait till he’s within range.” She stared through the scope of her rifle, ready to deliver an electrical shot, when a tiny droid came into view, it scrambled forward bouncing excitedly as it scanned something on a wall. She watched the droid some more before turning her attention to the person who followed it, moving her aim up to get the full view of who this person was. She saw it was a male, and he was wearing a dark blue colored poncho with it’s hood up, covering his identity. “Bingo.” She said under her breath.

“Keep an eye out for one of those laser swords, he’s a jedi.” upon hearing those words she froze. “He’s a jedi?” She breathed out shakily. She adjusted her blaster rifle, inspecting his waist area though her scope and sure enough, in his belt she spotted a shiny lightsaber hilt. It was clipped to the boys belt.

“If you’re gonna shoot, better do it now.” She heard Jeremy’s voice echo through her ears. Don’t do it, a voice came into her head. “y/n!” He pressed on when she didn’t respond. She tightened her grip on the rifle’s trigger still aiming at him. I shouldn’t. It’s wrong. She tried shaking the thoughts away, I should be helping him, he’s like me. What would my master think if he saw me now? “y/n shoot the gun!” The sound of Jeremy’s booming voice made her jump, and she wished that her fingers hadn’t been on the trigger, because it shot. It felt like time was moving in slow motion as she watched the blue electrical charge shoot towards him. “move.” She whispered desperately, not caring if Jeremy heard. Please move. Please. And the jedi ducked down to talk to the small droid, missing the bolt of electricity. y/n took a relieved breath, closing her eyes as she watched the cloaked figure’s head snap up to where the bolt had hit the building’s wall.

“Nice shot.” Her partner commented teasingly. So he hadn’t heard her. “I got it.” His accent rang through her ears.

“no wai-“ But it was too late because by the time she looked up into the direction where Jeremy had been stationed his blast had hit the jedi in the back, shocking him with enough power to knock him unconscious. “no-no-no.” She whispered to herself, getting up. “I’ll get him.” She blurted out in desperation.

“Don’t you need help getting him on to the ship?”

“No.”

“You just want the droid don’t you?“

“uh-y-yeah the droid, I want the droid.“ She lied, she just needed an excuse to be alone with him so she could wake him up and get him as far from the bounty hunter group as possible.

“Ok, fine.” He agreed much to her relief . “I get to keep the lighsaber though. I’ll round up the crew and get the ship ready for take off. Then maybe later...if you want I can take you on a date. We haven’t been on one in a while.’”

“Great.” She lied. His idea of a date always resulted in going to the nearest cantina and getting drunk out of him mind.

“I’ll meet you on the ship.“

“ok.“ From her scope she could see that his back was facing her and that he was retreating. Y/n was on her feet within seconds and got down from the roof where she was stationed at, rushing towards the cloaked jedi she fell onto her knees, shaking his shoulder, “Hey get up.” She told him.

“boop-beep!” The jedi’s droid trilled from beside her.

“Calm down I’m on your side.” She reassured the droid, “Help me wake him up, will you?” What if someone from the crew sees me? “Hey get up!” She tried again. He began to stir before jolting awake. And when you just wake up from being electrocuted, a bounty hunter at your side is not what you want to see. The jedi’s eyes widened under the darkness of the night, and he reached for his lightsaber but she was faster and grabbed his wrist to prevent him from drawing it. Seeing this as a threat he jabbed her arm with his elbow, which she blocked and from there they had gotten into a small fight. Each trying to land a hit on the other to knock them down and in the end it was the jedi who tackled y/n down, toppling into the dirt with her.

y/n now lay on the ground with her arms pinned down beside her head. It was then when the the jedi was on top of her holding her down, that she could see him under the faint moon light. His pale complexion, his green eyes, the small freckles scattered across his face.. “Cal?” y/n asked just above a whisper, she had said it so quietly that she was almost certain he hadn’t heard her.

“Why do you know my name?” He asked, and although his voice sounded threatening, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t that type of person. Especially with growing up in the jedi order.

“It’s me.” she told him, “it’s y/n.” She tried pulling her arms out of his grasp but he only gripped onto her wrists tighter. “t-that’s impossible.” He breathed out, and something flashed in his eyes although she wasn’t sure what it was. Anger? Pain? “y/n’s d-dead.” He said quieter, “She died when the jedi order fell, now who are you!”

“It’s really me.” She told him again

Cal shook his head in denial, squeezing his eyes shut for a second “N-no, you’re lying. You’re just trying to get my guard down so you can turn me in. You’re a bounty hunter, I know your tricks.”

“What does your gut tell you?” y/n said softly.

“If you’re really who you say you are, prove it.”

She thought for a moment before rushing her words out at once, “When we were younglings the other kids made fun of me a-and you were the only one who ever helped me. That’s why we became friends.” He didn’t budge. “After our private lessons with our masters we used to tell each other everything we learned, and we fantasized about being heroes. We used to make bracelets together...” For a moment she thought that he hadn’t been persuaded or that he didn’t remember those highlights of her childhood. But he seemed to freeze for a second, and his mouth gaped open as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t.

“y/n?” He asked, not recognizing the girl under the helmet, “it’s really-I...what?” He got off of her, still in disbelief as he stood.

Y/n got to her feet slowly observing his reaction before pulling her helmet off, exposing her y/h/c eyes and y/h/c hair-which was pulled back into a pony tail. Cal who had been looking at the ground now turned his head into her direction, and his mouth fell open again. Unsure of what to say he stumbled over his words for a second in disbelief. “I-you...I thought...” His eyes began to get glossy now as his emotions took over, “I thought you were dead!” He cried, trying to stifle his tears. But there was no points because they were coming out like a faucet.

y/n bit her lip and covered her mouth with her free hand letting out a small sob before dropping her helmet and throwing her arms around her old friend.

“I-I t-thought that you died.” She said shakily.

“I did too...” Cal whispered against her temple as he wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you so much.” He said with closed eyes.

“Oh my god.” y/n said now with joy. She pulled away, still holding onto his arms as she took another look at him, “you-you grew up.” She observed. “And you’re hair is obviously different.” She laughed.

“You look so different.“ He laughed, but he then snapped back into reality and looked down to her helmet and blasters, frowning slightly. “Why-are you a bounty hunter?”

“Yeah.” She admitted embarrassed. “I just-wait. We need to get you out of here!” She said, suddenly remembering the reason she had come. “My crew, they’ll come looking for you-”

“I can’t come.” He cut her off, “The ship’s busted, my crew and I took a hard landing. It’ll take a couple of days to get it fixed.”

She bit her lip in thought before replying. Now what? “Well, we have to keep you hidden then.”

“Well I was staying here-”

“It’s too dangerous there, they’ll be looking.”

“Then I can stay up in the woods.” He suggested, “There’s plenty of cover and there’s a few caves in the deeper part.”

“Perfect.” She agreed, “I can go check up on you then.”

“Ok.“

“You should probably go now then, before someone comes here to check up on me...“

“What are you going to tell them?“ Cal asked with a worried expression.

“The truth; you got away.“ She smiled.

Cal chuckled lightly before giving her shoulders a small squeeze “be careful.“

“You’re the one with a bounty on your head.“ She reminded the boy.

He tilted his head in a playful manner. “true.” Then his tone grew serious, “But seriously, if they try to do anything to you-“

“Look at you still trying to protect me.“ y/n smiled “You didn’t really change much. Did you?“ He blushed at this. “I’ll see you later. Stay safe.“ Cal nodded and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before turning around and disappearing with BD-1. I’m so screwed y/n thought.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #star wars #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi: fallen order #jedi fallen order fanfic #cal x reader #cal kestis #cal kestis imagine #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis fanfic #x reader #imagines

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takingcourage · 4 years

Text

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter Four

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC

Word Count: 3,050

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more?

Note: Five parts down, five parts to go! Thank you for all of your support with this series so far -- I’ve had a blast writing it, and it means a lot to know that others enjoy it too. : )

If Cassian thought his anxiety was high in anticipation of seeing Kellen, it was through the roof as he waited to meet his son. The entire morning was torture, even with the extra-long workout he’d designed as a distraction. By the time his Uber dropped him off across the city, he was actively fighting the outward signs of his nerves.

Yet under the nerves, something more potent was stirring: regret.

If only he’d tried harder three years ago. If only the job in Jamaica hadn’t taken so long to complete. If only Kellen hadn’t been utterly impossible to contact, they might be living under very different circumstances right now. Perhaps they would have defined their relationship to something more permanent. Maybe I even would have asked her to marry me...

Cassian stopped himself before he thought too much further down that path. Talking Kellen Reed into commitment was a fool’s errand. The more likely possibility was that things still wouldn’t have worked out, and that the distance between them now would have be deliberate rather than accidental. Perhaps it was a good thing that they hadn’t made a go of it before.

But any potential bright side was hard to see when he was still reconciling himself to the idea of having a two-year-old who’d gone all of this time without a father.

He rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs, hoping that the action wouldn’t leave any stains behind on the denim. He had to make a good impression.

While he hated the notion that access to his son was a privilege, he understood where Kellen was coming from. If it meant getting to see Owen, he would play by all of her rules and exceed every one of her expectations. This meeting needed to prove to her that he was worth the time and effort required to be part of their child’s life -- and hers, if she was willing.

A sleek crossover pulled into a small space along the road, and a quick glance through the windshield was enough to confirm that it was Kellen. With a final swipe of his hands, Cassian stood up from the bench and ventured toward the vehicle.

“Afternoon!” he called, hoping not to startle her as she walked around to the back to detach their son from his carseat. He’d always prided himself on his ability to keep cool in the midst of any circumstance, but Kellen’s effect on him had a tendency to be anything but calming. Taking a step closer, he slipped his hand into his pocket to draw attention away from the way it was shaking.

“Hey there!” she returned before almost disappearing into the car. She emerged several seconds later with a toddler in her arms. Still a couple of yards away, all Cassian could see of his son was the abundance of curls that blanketed his head. The small face was burrowed deep into Kellen’s shoulder and hidden from his view.

Cassian’s features broke into a wide smile, and he suppressed the urge to laugh. He hadn’t doubted the child’s parentage, but that crop of hair was proof that their kid was more than just a clone of Kellen. The realization gave him more pleasure than he cared to admit. Withdrawing the hand from his pocket, he scratched the stubble on his jaw and tried not to seem like a ginning fool.

“Excuse us,” she apologized, gesturing toward the bench he’d just vacated. “Naptime was a little rough today.”

“No worries,” he answered lamely. Cassian joined her on the seat, careful to leave several inches of space between them. He tried to give them distance, but it was difficult to look away from the pair of them. “I sometimes feel that way when I wake up too.”

Rubbing the boy’s back, Kellen shot him a knowing look that trampled all over his insides. She’d always been attractive, but the sight of her now, holding their son in her arms and smiling back at him, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His pulse stuttered as he watched them further.

She bounced Owen gently, brushing the hair away from his ear to murmur words that were too faint for Cassian to make out. What was perfectly obvious was the depth of love she had for the child. He couldn’t say what he’d been expecting, but her tender display took him by surprise.

With a bit more coaxing, the boy finally worked up the courage to push himself away from his mother’s tight hold. He leaned back, still balanced on her knees, and Cassian caught a flash of green as the boy stole a curious glimpse.

Kellen shifted slightly so that her companions were in full view of each other. “Owen, this is mama’s friend, Mr. Keane.”

His stomach tightened like a vice. I’m your dad. He wanted to gather the boy into his arms for a proper introduction. Instead, he held his tongue and sat firm. Blinking back tears, he tried to focus on the scene unfolding before him.

“Can you say Mr. Keane?” she prompted further.

“McGee.”

In spite of his unsteady emotions, Cassian laughed at the unpracticed attempt. His son had a sweet, guileless voice. He leaned closer, hanging on every moment in hopes of hearing it again.

“Mister,” Kellen formed the word patiently, looking straight into his eyes. Owen followed her movements intently.

“Mih-duh”

“Keane.”

“Key.”

“You’ve got it, big guy. High five!” Kellen celebrated his success with a smile, holding the palm of her hand in front of her stomach. Owen smacked it with relish.

His shyness completely forgotten, the toddler turned his attention to Cassian with an open-mouthed smile that was infectious enough to spread across the entire bench.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cassian managed against the pang of longing that constricted his chest. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a child with such a ready grin.

The toddler babbled back an approximation of the platitude.

“We’re still working on that one,” Kellen explained. “Hey, Owen?” She hesitated slightly before continuing. “I’ll bet Mr. Keane would like to have a high five. Do you want to show him how you do it?”

If his attention hadn’t been trained on the two of them, Cassian would never have noticed the interruption. Still, it wasn’t hard to guess what had caused it. As much as he was enjoying this meeting, it wasn’t fully comfortable for him or for Kellen. Uncertain how else to reassure her, he found her eyes with what he hoped was an encouraging gaze.

Still smiling, Owen gave a lively nod and lifted his hand in preparation.

After another quick look toward the boy’s mother, Cassian stretched an arm across the bench. The tiny hand made contact with his palm before sliding down over his fingers, and it was all he could do to keep from grasping them before they left his touch completely. Every interaction he’d had with his son was leaving him impatient for more.

“Thanks, Owen.” The name still felt somewhat stilted on his tongue, but the child didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he bounced his legs and began pushing his way out of his mother’s arms.

“Ready to play?”

Pulling her hand, he confirmed his answer to her question.

“Let’s go.”

Following a couple of steps behind, Cassian journeyed with the pair of them to the closest slide. As he watched Owen confidently climb the jungle gym, Kellen attentive in case he needed help, his chest ached again with the deeper knowledge of his loss. He hated that this was their first outing to the park as a family. He hated even more the countless other milestones he hadn’t even realized he’d missed.

Drawing a deep breath, he tried to persuade himself to live in the present: to stay focused on what he had now. But even when he did survey what was before him, it was impossible to silence the worry that Kellen could still change her mind. Nothing was certain.

Owen took several trips down the slide, each with Kellen’s careful grip there to guide him. As quickly as his interest came, it soon waned in favor of the gravel pit several yards away.

“We play in the rocks a lot, don’t we?” She asked as they followed his quick pace. The look she threw over her shoulder told Cassian that the question was more for his benefit than any other reason. He inclined his head gratefully in return.

“Trucks?”

“Not today,” she answered. “We can bring them next time.”

Conscious as he was not to overstep Kellen’s boundaries, Cassian couldn’t resist joining in the conversation. “Do you have lots of trucks?”

“Uh-huh.” Owen responded proudly. His curls bobbed with each step, producing a mesmerizing rhythm.

“Dump trucks?” he tried further.

“Yeah!”

Growing more confident, the next question rolled off his tongue quickly. “Do ya have a fire truck?”

Without warning, Owen’s face crumpled, and Cassian stepped back in alarm. He knew that toddlers could be sensitive, but nothing in his question should have produced such a violent reaction.

Beside him, Kellen sucked a breath and checked their destination. “Oh boy.”

At the sight of the pair of grade schoolers taking up residence on the gravel excavators, Owen’s discontent soon developed into full-fledged crying. By the time Cassian risked another look at his son, there were visible streaks down each of his reddened cheeks.

“C’mon, bud. It’s time to check out the swings,” Kellen suggested, taking the crisis in stride. His tears intensified momentarily as she scooped him into her arms, but he was fully appeased by the time she’d eased him into an empty bucket swing.

“He’s almost as headstrong as you are.”

Between pushes, Kellen cocked her head toward him with an acquiescent smile. “At lot of that just comes with being two.”

He chuckled at the matter-of-fact response. “So it does.”

The exchange over, they fell into silence. Owen jabbered to himself contentedly, occasionally stretching out a hand as he approached to try to catch his mother’s fingers.

“You’ve done a great job with him, Kellen,” Cassian praised gently, risking a step closer.

“There’s been a lot of trial and error.”

“It’s that way with any kid -- especially the first. Ma always called me her experiment.”

“But she knows you turned out alright.” She pushed the swing a couple more times, voice dropping low as she continued. “Owen’s a good kid.”

“I can tell. I’ll bet you’ve already got him counting to a hundred.”

Kellen turned toward him again, volume increasing with her enthusiasm. “He’s a little young for that, but we have been practicing 6-10 recently.”

“Already mastered the first 5?” His heart lightened as he posed the question, feeling a sense of their former camaraderie. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed their conversations.

“It’d be criminal for me not to teach him numbers,” she insisted, nose crinkling up at the notion. “Besides, I’ve got my eye on a really good preschool for next year. Their entrance requirements are pretty steep.”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish. You wouldn’t believe how competitive the kindergartens are around here.”

He fell quiet, wondering how many similar decisions she’d had to make on her own over the past three years. As he noticed the determined glint in Kellen’s eye, he couldn’t help hoping that her days of doing everything alone were over.

“Do you want a turn?” she asked suddenly, stepping aside so that he could take her place in front of the swing.

“I’d love one.”

Owen’s apprehension regarding the change was written across his face, but any hesitation soon dissolved under Cassian’s charms. The man greeted each incoming swing with an increasingly ridiculous face, and it wasn’t long until Owen was squealing with laughter every time he approached.

"He’s always loved to swing,” Kellen observed. “You should have seen him when he was a baby. He’d...” catching herself, the rest of her sentence faltered.

“He’d what?” Cassian implored, eager to know as much as she was wiling to share.

Kellen’s eyes darted to his face before training on her son. “He wanted to be in his baby swing all the time. It was the only way I could get him to--”

“Down!” Owen cut in.

Kellen stepped up to catch the swing, slowly returning it to the bottom of its arc before she lifted him out. Owen ran from the playground without a second thought, intent on the gravel pit they’d abandoned before. Conversation seemingly forgotten, Kellen followed the boy’s trail.

Despite his curiosity, Cassian didn’t prod any further. In time, he hoped she’d open up about all the things he missed. In the meanwhile, he’d have to content himself with making memories of his own.

“Dig!” Owen demanded, intent on the excavator toy stationed in the middle fo the rock pile.

“It’s still pretty big for you,” Kellen explained, “Let’s just play on the side.”

“Do you mind if I try something?”

She glanced back at him, but answered after a beat. “Go ahead.”

Cassian caught up to Owen within a pair of strides. “Can I dig with ya?”

"Dig?” A tiny hand raised to lead him toward the excavator, and Cassian took it with glee, a spark of warmth climbing up his arm from where their fingers were connected.

The equipment was clearly intended for older children, but it was nothing Cassian couldn’t work around. He perched on the seat, testing to see if it could handle his weight.

When it held, he lifted Owen up to sit on his thighs. With Cassian supporting his torso, the toddler was just able to reach the handles. Pushing both of them forward, he grunted with the struggle of bringing them back up again.

“Mama! I dig!”

“I see that,” she answered good-naturedly, finding a seat on the other excavator so that she could watch more closely.

In spite of the challenge, it was easy to see that Owen was having the time of his life. If he was honest, Cassian was too. With the weight of his son on his lap and the sound of his chatter ringing in his ears, he never wanted it to stop. He would be entirely content to cling to him and never let him go.

But the two-year-old’s attention span didn’t allow for much sentimentality. All too soon, Owen was squirming to be put back on solid ground so he could get his hands on the gravel. As the boy began digging through the mountain of rocks, Cassian took the opportunity to return to Kellen’s side. She surprised him by speaking first.

“You know what you’re doing,” she commended. He felt his cheeks color at the hint of admiration in her voice.

“Having five younger siblings’ll teach ya a lot.”

Brows arched, she shot him an incredulous look. “I don’t know how your mother did it.”

“Neither do I. She’s an incredible woman.” He lowered into a squat so that he could be closer to her level. From this angle, her eyes seemed dark as the sea, and the uncertainty buried in their depths was almost palpable. He changed topics, hoping he could ease some of it. “Kellen, I want to be as involved in Owen’s life as you’ll let me. I know what it’s like not to have a dad around. I don’t want my kid to have to go through that too.”

Kellen’s jaw clicked into place as she contemplated his words. “I don’t either.”

Chest sagging with relief at her admission, he was just opening his mouth to speak when she continued.

“But how do I know you’re not going to run out on us again?”

Her tone had been sarcastic, but there was no denying the underlying pain that drove the words. “I never ran out on you,” he assured with a voice that was faint despite the certainty of his convictions.

“That’s what it felt like...” Her cheeks flushed as she watched Owen scatter a handful of rocks into his lap.

“Kellen, I--”

“Look, I’m not trying to pick a fight. This is just hard.” Her lip quivered as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m trying to do what’s best for Owen.”

“That’s all I want.” Cassian let the words fall between them. “If having me in his life isn’t what’s best for him--”

He was profoundly grateful that she didn’t let him finish the sentence.

“I didn’t say that.” She interrupted, tucking her hair behind her ear as she stood. “But we need to take this a week at a time.”

“Sure,” he agreed, straightening his back to stand next to her. It wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for, but it was reasonable enough for him not to push further. Even so, some part of him worried that she hadn’t taken his assurance to heart. “I mean it, Kellen,” he repeated. “I’m not leaving. I’m in this for the long haul.”

The woman nodded, but he could tell she was still conflicted. When she moved to Owen’s side a moment later, he hung back to give them space.

She made their excuses a short time later, insisting that they had errands to run and a big week to prepare for. Biting back his disappointment, Cassian accepted his son’s enthusiastic high five goodbye and Kellen’s promise to be in touch about a subsequent park visit the following weekend.

When they had left, he made his way back to the bench to wait for his rideshare. His head falling forward, he fixated on the fine dust beneath his feet.

His thoughts formed a tangle of contradictions: hope and disappointment, elation and fear. His head could hardly hold the weight of them. More than anything, however, he felt desperate. He needed Kellen and their son to be part of his life, and he wanted much more than occasional playdates at the park.

Idly pinching the bands of his bracelet, he let out a measured breath. There was still hope of making everything right. Kellen wouldn’t have mentioned a second meeting if there weren’t. Feeling the first trickle of resolve, he lifted his eyes from the ground and cast an unseeing eye on his surroundings.

He was going to prove himself, no matter how many park outings it took.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #witness: a bodyguard romance #cassian keane #cassian x mc

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nesari · 4 years

Text

79’s

Off duty and ready to have fun Tup was giddy as he rode in the back of the taxi speeder with Dogma and a couple other shinies. Dogma however was not thrilled, sitting across from Tup arms crossed and scowling.

“I’m excited, I heard 79’s is a really flash place.” Tup said in high spirits.

“A bunch of rule-breakers and miscreants. I don’t think we’ll fine anything there but trouble.” Dogma told Tup rather grumpily.

“Aw, come on Dogma, you’re my best pal. Don’t be so pessimistic. Besides if you though it was just going to be trouble why’d you come?” Tup said back to him, trying to cheer up his buddy.

“That’s exactly why I did. I came to make sure you stay out of trouble. If one of the unit gets arrested chances are well all be punished.” Dogma said, arms still crossed as he leaned back in the seat.

“Don’t think like that, just relax and have a bit of fun tonight. No ones going to jail. Besides look, we are almost there.” Tup said and pointed out the bar ahead through the window.

“You had best hope you’re right.” Dogma droned.

But Tup just rolled his eyes endearingly as Dogma looked out the window, slightly done with his mate but he also knew that’s just how he was.

“Come on we’re here.” Tup said, scooting forward in the seat as the speeder came to a stop, and Tup popped open the door. “Come on Dogma!”

Begrudgingly Dogma followed Tup, getting out of the speeder and looking at the bar ahead of them, and Dogma’s lips snurled as he looked up at the place and to its grotty sign over head.

“You shinies can have the taxi fair, show war heroes a treat.” Tup said behind Dogma to the other two in the speeder that were going back to base, and turned back to Dogma still looking up at the building. “Come on mate. The shinies are taking care of the taxi.” Tup said and started to pull his brother along by the arm.

But Dogma snatched his arm away from to and gave him and evil look. “That wasn’t cool Tup. Those Shinies didn’t ask to come this way, they are going to have to pay for that detour.”

“It’ll be fine Dog, come on.” Tup said to reassure him, waving his to come with him before her turned back around to go in.

Rolling his eyes Dogma sighed angrily at Tup’s reasoning. “It’s Dogma.” He said after Tup, walking to catch up with him.

Walking into the club Tup looked around and smiled, looking at all the fun being had, and then to the ceiling and the multi colored lights. Dogma on the other hand furrowed his brows, rather concerned about the state of affairs in this place, how not one person was sober AT ALL, and it was very crowded, and one person was snorting cocaine in the corner.

Sin.

“Let’s get a drink.” Tup said, smiling over toward the bar, tapping Dogma on the shoulder to follow.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Dogma said still looking to the corner, but it was too late as Tup was already at the bar.

Turning around Dogma had to stomp over to the bar behind Tup, catching up as Tup ordered two drinks for them. “What do you think you’re doing?” Dogma pulled Tup around to look at him.

“I got us drinks.” Tup shrugged.

“I don’t think getting drunk in a place like this is a good move Tup.” Dogma told him.

Tup kinda laughed. “It’s one drink, we aren’t getting drunk. Just enough to have some fun.” He held his hand out to justify it to his mate.

Dogma sighed. “One drink Tup, then we should head back to base.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, pal.” Tup smiled and put his hand on Dogma’s shoulder, and then the bar tender sat their drinks down on the bar.

“Cheers.” Tup said and picked up his drink, and Dogma picked up his, going slightly cross-eyed at this “one” drink holding it up in front of his face seeing it was all of a foot tall glass.

Taking a sip Tup looked around the bar, but had to stop as he blinked rapidly and pursed his lips up, flexing his throat swallowing loud on the drink in his hand.

“Any good?” Dogma asked, slowly bringing his drink up.

“Yep.” Tup answered, and looked at Dogma as he took a sip and seemed to be totally ok with it. Nodding his head Tup pulled his lips in and started looking around the bar some more, glancing at the booths seeing who was there and if he knew anyone. And looking over he almost missed who he saw and did a double take seeing Nesari in a back booth with another clone at her side.

“Oh shot!” Tup said, turning back to the bar before she saw him, an fire of cold nerves going all over him.

“What? What is it, what’d you see?” Dogma looked around, snatching his drink down from his face really quick.

“Uh, uh I saw some one I know back there.” Tup said.

“Who? And where?” Dogma stepped up to him, laying an arm up on the bar beside Tup.

“Uh,” Tup sounded kinda nervous, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at the bar top. “You remember the girl that, that works with General Skywalker and General Kenobi?” Tup laughed nervously.

“Commander Tano?” Dogma asked, sounding rather surprised.

“Uh, no.” Tup said, and blew a breath out through his mouth. “I mean Nesari.”

“What? What the hell is she doing here?” Dogma said indignantly looking to the back to see if he could see her.

“I don’t know, Vod.” Then Tup smiled glancing over his shoulder back at her. “But I gotta go say hello.”

“Are you crazy trooper!?” Dogma turned quickly back to him. “You can’t just walk up to a, uh, an.. a military official!”

“You don’t understand, I have to go talk to her.” Tup told him, blowing out another nervous breath through his mouth, picking up his glass and taking a big drink.

“The only thing you have to do is—“ But Tup was already turned to leave, heading to the back straight for her booth. And Dogma had to yell quietly after him trying not to draw attention. “Tup! Tup!”

“Damn it!” Dogma gritted his teeth, pursing up his lips as he grabbed Tup’s drink and followed after him.

Reaching the back booth Tup smiled as he looked at Nesari, sitting back in the booth, leaned to the side with another brother beside her, hugging up to her. A big tough looking brother with sideburns and a dark tattoo covering his throat, but Tup couldn’t tell much about his rank or otherwise from what he was wearing.

“Uhm, hi,” Tup began, gaining her attention with a slight nervous tone to his voice. “You.. probably don’t remember me, but—“

“I remember you.” Nesari stoped him and said, looking out at him smiling slightly, and leaned forward.

“You.. you do?” Tup stuttered, looking kind of shocked, and that’s when Dogma walked up beside him cutting him an evil look as he caught up.

“Of course I do.” She smiled. “You’re from the 501st, you’re Tup.”

“Uh, yeah.” He laughed relieved of some of his nerves. “Yeah I am. How’d you remember me?”

Laughing a bit Nesari just looked up at him. “We’ve talked to each other before, Tup. Even though it wasn’t for very long. Besides I’ve known Captain Rex and the 501st this whole war.”

“Really? Wow, that’s pretty cool.” Tup kinda smiled, his stomach twisting in little knots. And Dogma just stood there, cutting little looks over to his brother while still holding the drinks.

“Yeah.” Nesari smiled, then turned her gaze to look at Dogma. “But I don’t remember having met your brother.”

Jerking to attention, Dogma straightened and faced forward. “Sir, you didn’t, sir.”

“At ease trooper.” Nesari almost laughed. “No need for all that with me, I don’t have any military authority.”

Relaxing down Dogma looked a little confused at what she said.

“Oh this is Dogma.” Tup told her and pointed a thumb at his brother. “But I thought you were a Jedi?”

“Ohhh, so you’re Dogma, Rex mentioned you before. And no, just a Learner.” She stated and looked both them over. “How about you boys have a seat? We can talk since we know each other.”

“That’d be great!” Tup said and was almost starting to sit down.

“Uh, actually if you could excuse us for just a moment, sir.” Dogma almost slammed the glasses down on the table and got his brother by the arm. “Come on.” He tight lipped Tup very quiet where she couldn’t hear them.

Pushing Tup along Dogma forced his friend away from the booth a bit to the wall separating it from the next one and got in his brothers face to talk quietly to him. “What do you think you are doing?” Dogma chided.

“What are you talking about Dogma? We are having a drink, Nesari invited us to sit down.” Tup defended himself, not understanding the reaction Dogma was having.

“Don’t play that game with me. You knew she was going to be here didn’t you?” Dogma questioned.

“I didn’t know, I swear.” Tup told him. “I wanted to come here because it’s a fun place. I just happened to see her sitting back here and wanted to say hello.”

Sighing and gritting his jaw, Dogma looked Tup dead in the eyes, and he didn’t see his brother lying to him. But still he didn’t want get into all this, how much trouble they could get in if they got caught fraternizing member of the republic military. “Alright, I believe you. But you know as well as I she is nothing but a bad time walking. And I don’t want us getting caught up in something of hers.”

“She’s not Dogma, I’ve talked to her before, I’m telling you, she’s really nice.” Tup smiled trying to reassure him. “She won’t get us in trouble. Now come on, let’s not be rude. We should set with her, have a drink. What could happen with that?”

Taking a deep breath, Dogma let go of Tup. “Alright. One drink, then we go. Rude or not.” He reluctantly agreed.

“Alright. One then we can go.” Tup agreed, secretly giddy on the inside that he got Dogma on the same page with him. And with that and one more dirty look from Dogma they turned back to the booth, going and sitting down like normal clones. Tup smiling his head off while Dogma just looked done already.

“Well, I think I’ll go. I have to get back to base.” The clone that was sitting by Nesari said, taking his arm from around her. “It was nice seeing you again tonight Nesari. Hopefully I’ll see you here again.” He smiled at her and then scooting to the edge of the booth.

“You too, I was fun talking to you.” She smiled back, and he stood from the booth, tipping his hat to her. “Bye.” She waved her fingers, and with a smirk he left.

“So, uh, what brings you here?” Tup spoke up, breaking the awkward pause he was having as he watched the other clone with Nesari, feeling rather curious to what was going on.

And Nesari turned back to them. “Oh nothing really. I like to come down here when I’m bored ready to get away for a while.” She shrugged. “Never know when you might run into some one you know.” She said and gesture with her hand to them as examples.

“Yeah really seems like it.” Tup said, still kinda unsure what to say to her.

“So what about you two?” She then asked.

“Uh, we just, just heard about it and decided to come down and get some drinks.” Tup shrugged off, not wanting to seem like he’d never been anywhere before.

“One.” Dogma interjected, glancing to Tup. “One drink.”

And at that Nesari felt as if you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Yeah one drink I meant.” Tup then kinda awkwardly said, reaching over and getting his glass from in front of Dogma.

“Well cheers then.” Nesari held up her little glass of blue drink, and Tup raised his too, having to nudge Dogma to pick his up as Nesari was already sipping hers, looking over the glass at them. And reluctantly Dogma picked his up and took a small sip while Tup took a rather big chug, looking like he’d swallow gasoline as he flexed his jaw as he took the glass down.

“What’s wrong don’t you like it?” Nesari asked Tup, seeing his reaction.

“Oh, no it’s just ah.” Tup said and tried to deny that he didn’t like what he had, not wanting to look a wimp in front of Nesari.

“If you don’t like it don’t drink it. I’ll order you one of what I have.” She offered.

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that.” Tup started as Dogma looked at the side of his head.

“No it’s fine, I’ll pay for it, I don’t mind.” She told him and waved down the waiter, ordering a round of what she had for the three of them. “What about you Dogma?”

“No mines fine.” He said, holding his glass with both hands.

“Are you sure?” She asked him once more, having noticed the tiny sip he took earlier.

“Yes.”

“Uh, he just doesn’t really like to drink.” Tup jumped in, saving a bit of embarrassment from his brother being rude.

“Ah, I understand that. What’d you guys get anyway?” She said, totally ok with his answer.

“Uh, vodka and club.” Tup answered.

“Oh yeah those aren’t very good. But you won’t get drunk on them though, so that’s why they’re popular.” She said, bold face lying through her teeth to both of them.

“Here.” She said, taking the straw she wasn’t using from her own drink and reached over and put it in Dogma’s glass. “I’ll tell you a trick, if you don’t like to drink, drink with a straw and it will keep you from drinking as much.” She lied again.

“Oh,” Dogma looked down at his glass, fingering the straw over to him. “Thanks for the tip.” He said, genuinely believing her and taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, hiding it mostly behind her glass.

And about then the waiter swung by with the new round of drinks, sitting them all down in the middle of the table.

“Thanks.” She said to the waiter as he left, and Tup reached and picked up one of the smaller glasses looking in it for a half second before trying a cautious sip.

Raising his brows Tup smacked his mouth, surprised eyes looking down at the glass. “Wow. That is good. What is it?” He asked her.

“It’s a Maluron Musk.” She told him. “The maluron juice hides everything else.”

“You aught to try it Dogma, it’s good.” Tup said, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I will.” Dogma told him, not really interested is something that smelled so fruity.

“Well here.” Nesari picked up Tup’s old glass and sat it in front of Dogma. “You can stick with the vodka and club. You can drink Tup’s so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“I really should just stick to my own.” Dogma told her, holding a hand up to ad emphasis to what he was saying.

“Oh you don’t have to worry about it with those, there’s not that much alcohol in them.” Once again she lied, and Dogma looked a bit more convinced. And she took another tiny sip on her fruity drink. And then Tup took a drink, more than a sip, and after him Dogma took two deep sucks from his straw. Each following in turn.

“So what do you boys think about the atmosphere?” She asked, keeping it going.

“I like it.” Tup said, glancing around and Dogma nodded. And she put her glass back up to her mouth, looking over her rim at both them this time only touching her lips to it without drinking any, and watched as they fell in turn and drank once more following her lead.

“So are you boys staying light for a reason tonight?” Nesari asked, fishing with small talk.

“No.”

“Yes.”

The answers came back at the same time, and she just raised her brows slightly.

“Well no.” Tup continued. “Not for any reason, we don’t have to be back at base at any certain time.”

“Yes, but we should be.” Dogma interjected, looking over to Tup.

“Well what he means is he doesn’t like staying out too late.” Tup said over him. “He’s just that way.”

“I see. I don’t have to be anywhere either. So.. here we are.” She smiled and put an elbow on the table, resting her chin in it, watching as Tup looked a bit nervous smiling and not making eye contact with her while Dogma looked mildly irritated, the focus of his eyes staying higher than his normal sight-line.

And once more she picked up her glass to her lips, watching as they drank in turn, following her lead.

But as she watched them suddenly the lights fell some and the music dropped into trap, getting a lot louder than it had been as the lights switched from multi colored accent lights to all the lights being multi colored. And all the drinks on the table and all the accent colors of everything including their armor began to glow in the undertone of black light.

Looking up and around Tup and Dogma both looked equally confused as to what just happened, and Nesari just smiled.

“Looks like you guys got here just in time to see the start of the night mode.” She told them, raising her voice higher so she could be heard over the music. “When the fun starts.”

“The fun?” Dogma asked, raising a brow and looking a bit off-put.

“Yeah, now is when the music gets good. And the dancing starts.” She smirked a bit, glancing to Tup.

“Sounds fun!” Tup said over the music, leaning his chest and arms up on the table. “I like dancing. Dogma’s not so into it though.”

“Maybe he’ll be into it a little later.” She paused. “But anyhow we have all night, let’s just enjoy our drinks for now.” And at that she lifted her glass once more, faking them out and whispered under her breath “drink up boys” as they followed her lead.

#the clone wars #tup #dogma #oc #oc nesari #501st #79’s

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its-captain-sir · 5 years

Text

Brothers Reunited

Here's the other 100 follower giveaway fic! This was for @outcastcommander , who won the 500 word fic (this also ended up way longer than planned... I just suck at target word writing XD) and ask for something based off of this post here. I read it, my brain said angst, and ta da, this happened! Hope you like it! :)

*******

"In here," he said, nudging his brother in the direction of an abandoned air duct. As soon as they were concealed, Echo let out a sigh of relief.

He walked over to one of the rusty, old blades and yanked it to the side, revealing the pack he had stashed there before running off to go rescue Fives from the people after him. Which, of course, was the entire Republic. He honestly didn't know how Fives managed to keep getting himself into these situations.

"What's that?" Fives asked. Echo threw a ration bar at him in response.

"Eat that." Fives made a face. "When was the last time you had something to eat?" he asked.

"I ate something..." he trailed off, frowning. Echo rolled his eyes underneath the helmet he wore.

"My point exactly."

Fives still eyed the ration bar distrustfully. "You're not trying to poison me, are you?"

"If I wanted you dead, you think I would have rescued you?" he said as he rummaged through the pack.

"I don't know, maybe!" Fives shouted, running a hand over his face. "I don't know who you are or what you want or anything-"

Echo reached up and stole the ration bar from his hands, breaking off a piece. He lifted up his helmet just enough to expose his mouth and bit into it.

He pulled the helmet back down. "See? Not poisoned." He held the ration bar back out to Fives. He took it. Echo turned back to the pack, pulling out paint in various skin tones.

"What's that for?" Fives asked through a full mouth.

"We can't be walking around with you still looking like a clone. It'll draw too much attention." He gestured down to the paint. "This will fix that until we come up with another plan."

Fives stared at him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Why are you helping me?" he asked softly.

Because you're my brother, he wanted to say. Because you're Fives and you're crazy and drive me insane and I'd do anything for you.

"It's my job to watch out for you," he said instead.

Fives raised an eyebrow at him. "Job?"

Echo didn't say anything else, just sat down on the floor by the paints and motioned for Fives to sit down in front of him.

He got to work quickly, dipping his fingertips into the paints and mixing them together in different ways, highlighting different parts and masking others until Fives' face appeared to take on a different shape. He was good at this sort of thing, often did it to cover up his scars when he actually needed to have his helmet off.

Fives let out a huff as he smudged large amounts of paint over the tattoo on his temple, and Echo's heart ached.

Gods, it hurt to have his brother so close to him again and not do anything about it. He wanted nothing more than to be able to cast off his helmet and hold on to Fives and never let go. His eyes burned as that old, familiar sense of longing ripped through his chest and stole his breath away, and he tried to remind himself it was for the best. He wasn't the "Echo" Fives knew. Not anymore. Too much had happened. No, it was better this way, better that Fives would never know what he had become. And if he did figure it out... Echo didn't want to think about that. There was no way Fives would accept him the way he was now. Echo didn't think he could stand seeing the look of revulsion on his face once Fives realized he was part clanker.

Maybe he was being selfish in not telling Fives the truth. Maybe he was only lying to protect his own feelings. Fives had no idea who he was, but they were together. It was something at least, which is far better than nothing and he didn't want to ruin it.

He just wanted to be with his brother. Echo missed him.

Fives cleared his throat, and Echo realized he had been staring, frozen with his paint-covered fingertips inches from Fives' face. "So..." he said, gaze flickering between his fingers and the visor of Echo's helmet. "Am I good now?"

Echo let his hand fall. "Yeah," he croaked out, thankful for the vocabulator in the helmet that revealed none of the emotion he couldn't quite keep out of his voice. "It'll do."

Fives nodded, standing. "What next?"

"Next, we head to my apartment."

Fives paused. "Wait, you mean-"

Echo tilted his head. "Did you think I lived here?" Fives' mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"While I suppose I see how you could think that, I do have higher standards than living in an old air duct," Echo sighed, crossing his arms.

"Right, uh, sorry," Fives stammered, hand ghosting over the back of his shone head as he looked down at the ground. Echo watched him, heart aching again, until he forced himself to look away.

"Come on," he said softly, turning back to the entrance.

They made their way through the streets of the undercity. It wasn't as bad a place as most people made it out to be. Some had a reason to be here, others just were. People went about their life and you just carved out a place for yourself in between it all like everyone else. Simple as that.

They turned the corner to the street of his apartment building, only to find a Quarren and three Niktos standing by the door.

"Damnit," Echo muttered. "I didn't want to deal with this today."

"What?" Fives asked, looking between Echo and the men at the door. "Wait, is something-"

Echo silenced him with a hush. "Just act like you belong here and let me do the talking. And hope that I won't end up needing to move again."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Fives did as he said. The change was almost scary to watch. In a few seconds he'd gone from a confused fugitive to a bored smuggler following a friend. Echo was impressed. Well, he supposed they didn't make clones ARC troopers for nothing.

Echo took a deep breath, already formulating an escape plan should they need it, and approached the building.

"Excuse me, some people actually need to use this door," he said, shoving his way past them. If they could just get inside...

The largest of the three Niktos stepped into his path, blocking the door. Echo stared at him defiantly through the visor of his helmet. "Do you live here? 'Cause I've never seen you around before and if you don't live here, then I kindly suggest you get out of my way.

The Nikto didn't reply. The other two grabbed his arms and shoved him back, placing him right in front of their leader, the Quarren.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, the Niktos resuming their place behind them. Echo supposed it would have made a frightening picture to anyone who hadn't met them before. But he was quite familiar with this little gang. They were hardly a threat worth his time.

"Oh, you know, just someone I met," Echo said. He leaned ever so slightly on the nearby wall, unfazed by their failed intimidation. "I'm good at making new friends. Unlike you I see. This is, what, the third time you've brought the same three guys with you? You having trouble making friends there, pal? I mean, I'd definitely be willing to give you some pointers if yo-"

"Shut. Up." the Quarren hissed.

"Ah, so it's gonna be one of those days," Echo sighed. They had decided to pick a fight with him today? Fine. He'd just have to kick their asses again. "Don't use your blaster," he told Fives. They weren't far enough down where Coruscant police wouldn't be alerted if there was a skirmish. That meant no blasters on either party's part.

He pulled his vibroknife out from his right vanbrace and handed it to Fives. "Hang onto that," he said, "I want it back afterwards." The others had unsheathed their own vibroknifes, and he'd rather Fives have more protection. He knew his brother could hold his own, of course, but he wasn't at his best right now. Someone had drugged him and it hadn't yet left his system. Echo could do without the vibroblade.

He gave a cocky salute to Fives, then quickly turned around and elbowed one of the gang members in the stomach. Another one came at him from the right, slashing his vibroknife through the air in a large swing. Echo sidestepped the attack easily.

"Missed me," Echo taunted, dodging the blade once again. Another swipe. "Missed me again." He took a step back, throwing the gang member off balance enough for Echo to grab him. "You just really are not on top of your game today, huh?" he said, twisting the Nikto's arm till he dropped the knife. Then Echo kneed him in the chest and let his body drop to the ground.

He picked up the discarded vibroknife and threw it at the first Nikto he'd taken down, who had started to get up again. The knife went right through the collar of his shirt and embedded itself in the wall behind him, pinning him there.

"What happened to 'once you're down, you stay down?'" Echo muttered. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun and raised his right arm just in time to catch the Quarren's blade. It hit the metal cybernetics with a clang.

The Quarren looked at him with wide eyes and Echo smirked beneath his helmet. "Cybernetic arm," he said. "Which means this is going to really hurt." He twisted and socked the Quarren in the face with his metal hand, dropping him to the ground.

That was enough time, however, for the last Nikto to come up from behind him. He heard Fives shout the beginning of a warning before pain lanced through his jaw. The brute had put all of his strength into the uppercut, enough to knock Echo's helmet clean off.

Blinking the stars from his eyes, he spit out blood on the ground in front of him. "Ow," he hissed. "Rude." He glared up at the last Nikto. The brute actually had the decency to look scared before Echo delivered a roundhouse kick that would have made even Commander Cody proud.

The Quarren staggered to his feet and took off running, the other gang members stumbling after him. He turned around to pick up his helmet, but Fives was already there. His eyes were fixed on the visor, fingers trailing across the double bars painted on it. Echo had painted those bars, and the handprint, on every set of armor he'd had. This one was no exception, the only difference being he no longer wore the handprint on the outside, rather painted it on the inside. He could see the exact moment the realization hit Fives.

Slowly, his brother looked away, gaze traveling up and up until it reached his scarred face and finally met Echo's own.

The helmet fell to the ground.

"...Echo?"

He smiled sadly. "Hey, Fives."

#writing #my writing #i love the original ideas behind this one!#i tried to incorporate those ideas in here as best i could #hope it turned out okay for you! :)#echo #fives #oh look another clone wars post

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zenosanalytic · 4 years

Text

THE SACRED TEXTS!!! EPISODE 3

I just finished the 3rd season of Clone Wars(2008) and I have Thoughts!

s3 is typically where I’ve seen ppl saying Clone Wars gets gud but, for the first half of the season, I was pretty skeptical. Until ~ e11 the season’s dedicated to filling in holes from the earlier seasons which, frankly, didn’t really need to be filled? Like: I’m not really sure WHO, in the audience, would be sitting around wondering “gee, I wonder what’s going on with Mandalore’s trade-policy during all of this?”?? Or “was a Republic Army sent to help Ryloth when it was first invaded, and what happened to it?”??? And most of this not only felt pretty unnecessary, but was also pretty Meh (:T There were good bits! Like, I didnt ACTL mind the Ryloth ep, and it acts as a declaration of sorts that it’s now both open-season on Jedi(yeah, technically Kit Fisto’s ex-padawan Vebb died in Lair of Grievous, but he was very much An Outlier), and more broadly open-season on named&faced humanoid characters.

To give an example: not ONLY does Domino Squad from Rookies in s1 get a fleshing-out backstory(which is... very Pat and derivative and convenient, but the characterization is ok given they’ve only got one 22min ep to do it in. & I liked 99′s whole role as basically surrogate dad to all the other clones), but pretty much ALL of them, I think, end up getting killed off during the season? Like I said it’s a clear statement they want to break with the past while building on the “hey fans: CLONES ARE PEOPLE! THEIR SITUATION IN THIS WAR IS MONSTROUS!!” message the series has been soft-peddling from the beginning, but I feel like they didnt really commit to it enough. Like: IF they had stuck with the Domino survivors throughout the season, if we’d gotten to see them in episode after episode, gotten to know them better alongside the other members of Rex’s ARC battalion, gotten to see them face dangers and survive them, only to watch, agonized, as they, and the rest of the Battalion vets, slowly get picked off in the increasingly dangerous missions of the second half of the season, then that would have made the message MUCH more effective, AND made the Citadel and Padawan Lost arcs much more tense.

And really all of the impactful deaths of the season sort of feel like that. Like: we get one episode to know Mina Bonteri(a human, of course) and her family before she’s killed off(though i did Dig how unceremonious and unsentimental it was; that really got across the stakes involved and the sorts of scumbags Amidala, and the audience, are dealing with). We get even less time with the Jedi killed by Oppress; a few seconds at most(and btw it’s kind of HILARIOUS how he just... bulls in there and wrecks em like it’s nothing, after two seasons of ep after ep of uneventful cat-and-mouse. Of course that’s undermined by him&Ventriss, then, utterly failing to be successful against Dooku, purely because the plot demands it |:T) Same with Master Piell. Ziro we know much better, but he was also a fairly annoying caricature and his final eps went out of their way to use him to introduce EVEN MORE annoying caricatures so, while his getting gunned down is successful in showing violence and violent death as sudden, unsentimental, and pathetic rather than heroic and worthy, we dont really care. And that’s further undercut, pretty seriously, by his being a caricature; pathos is hard to pull off with an object of laughter/scorn as it risks just making their suffering funny to the audience(which... is the OPPOSITE of what you want to accomplish). This isnt helped by having the Jedi who find him basically shrugging at his death before racing into a Cool Fight. The “Force Wielders” in the Mortis arc suffer from the same problems(and also: Force Dualism&”The Chosen One” Talk: BLEAGH!). The only one of these they manage to get right, to me, is Kalifa’s death in Padawan Lost which, due to us getting more time to see her sitch and hear her&the other younglings talk about it, genuinely ends up having an emotional impact(if still feeling super-convenient and a bit improbable)((also I love the inclusion of a predator ep, even if they’re cheap dime-story predators)).

The same goes for all the non-death falls and endangerments. The corruption of the Mandalorian Prime Minister falls flat because we barely know him, and he’s never been portrayed as sympathetic or, for that matter, as anything other than a factotum. The only Pantoran we know in Sphere of Influence is Senator Chuchi, and more than half the episode is dedicated to the Prime Minister, his Son, and his(interchangeable) daughters(and we never see any of these characters again in the season); the ep comes off as nothing more than an excuse to reference Greedo(and Im annoyed by him speaking common all of a sudden. Who watching CW would have a problem with subtitles?).

BUT! They’re trying!! They’re moving in the right direction!!! I’m happy about this ^v^ And the later half of the season, while I have my problems with certain episodes, and the continued non-human stereotypes, and the convenient writing, and the not-great(tho getting better!) dialogue, is actually kind of entertaining, and attention-bearing. Arc Troopers, the 2nd ep of the season, is Solid! The Mortis arc is good, overall! The Citadel and Padawan Lost arcs are Compelling!! I like the Witches of Dathomiir, even if their Arc is “Meh” because the series IMMEDIATELY undercuts their cool concept(aside from the laser-bows which are LEGITIMATELY Stupid. I’m sorry; I will not argue over this they’re Dum) by having their plans, and all the implication towards deep plots&cunning manipulation, turn out to be empty and fruitless(ie, Dooku totally should have been terribly wounded by all this, which would have also been cool re: Sidious, as it’d imply THAT WAS HIS PLAN ALL ALONG! TO WEAKEN THE GROWING POWER OF HIS APPRENTICE AND DRAG THE WAR OUT EVEN LONGER!!) Also: the Witches, rather than being “magic users” drawing from the “unique power” of their ~evil planet~(a swamp, of course, following long-established Magic the Gathering tradition u_u) should have just totally been a non-Sith(possibly Pre-Jedi) sect of Dark Side Force Users. I really like the idea of Non-Jedi/Non-Sith(since they’re literally just two sides of the SAME tradition; the Sith are literally Jedi Heretics) Force Traditions being out there in the galaxy, and this was a good chance to build on that which I felt they didnt do enough with, and hope they WILL do more with in future(I especially like the ideas of force-attuned poison? Like what if they could “poison” or “curse” people THROUGH the Force? That would be sweet as hell :3).

Another improvement is in the action in this season. It’s not at a level I’d call “thrilling” or anything, but it feels much less like stiff, rote, weightless FLUFF than it has in the two previous seasons. Frankly I think a lot of this is just their engine and how ppls joints just sort of SNAP into position during fights, and also the excessive acrobatics of the prequel-style, both of which makes it feel unnatural, predetermined, and performative rather than deadly and vital(like excessively practiced and robotically acted choreography, basically). But, having said that, you see ppl make mistakes, you see consequences FOR those mistakes, and thus there is SOME sense of danger and weight to it that makes it more compelling than it has been in the past, and this should be praised uwu

And I like that the Politics are a lot clearer and more forefronted in this season than previously! While the Corruption Arc on Mandalore did feel rather hollow, rushed, and After-School-Specially(and, I DEEPLY resent its peddling of offensive and baseless anti-Ophidian tropes >:( ), it’s core message abt the dangers of profiteering and the corrupting influence of profit-seeking(ie Capitalism) on politics and society is a good one and clearly delivered. The Amidala episodes in this season Knock it out of the park consistently, and especially on their messaging ^v^ ^v^ Also, I DIDNT MIND the very fillery C3PO and R2 ep! Yes: it was essentially a waste of an episode since Bane was working for the Hutts to spring Ziro in s1′s Hostage Crisis & there’s basically NO WAY they wouldnt have been able to provide him with a set of plans for the Senate building(and the prison, for that matter), but WHATEVER: it was Kind Of Fun and I like seeing those two be an old bickering married couple and C3PO freak out over getting praised; IT WAS FINE!

So, while there werent any standout ep that I REALLY ENJOYED like Trespass in s1 and R2 Come Home in s2, and I very much didn’t like the 1st half of the season, I think I do have to concede that s3 is An Improvement, overall. I’m actually a bit excited over moving on to s4, given the upward trajectory this season ends on quality-wise owo

Oh: and the Ahsoka redesign? Neat uwu uwu(if untentionally Hilarious since they havent been changing her model over time so she just... grows three feet and bulks out in, like, a single night, presumably. Togruta Puberty must be HELL :p :p :p)

#Star Wars #SW: Clone Wars(2008)#Clone Wars s3 #Long Post #zA Opinions #zA Reviews #TV Shows #Summaries

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dovechim · 6 years

Text

heightened secrecy (m)

➾ 4k

➾ warnings: sex toys (squirting dildo), tiny bit of degradation/ name calling, lots of cum, unprotected sex, sloppy seconds, praise kink

➾ an unofficial part 2 to clone a willy, continuing my legacy of strange sex toys found on Amazon 🙃

The first thing you do when you get the mail that evening is to hightail it into your room, citing the excuse of being on your period and leaving Jimin at the table still in the middle of his dinner.

Your own dinner is left hastily unfinished, but that’s the least of your worries as you lock the door securely behind you, fingers tearing apart the brown packaging. When your blunt fingernails scrape against the secure cardboard, you enlist the help of a penknife to free your treasure from its depths, a bubble of elation rising in your chest.

It looks pretty much like a normal dildo, except there’s tubing concealed in the balls at the base, running through the entire length of it and leading to a squeezable bulb at the other end, presumably for the user to control as they please. The shaft itself is a pleasant thickness that you can already feel the stretch of against your walls, and although no match for Jimin’s monstrous girth, it definitely manages to triumph him in its length.

Oh, Jimin wouldn’t let you live it down if he found out about this. In more ways than one.

There’s a reason why you want to keep this to yourself just for a little while, let yourself enjoy it in the pleasure of your own company before succumbing yourself to his teasing smirks. And let’s face it, you keeping this from him is more for his own good than anything else. You run your fingers over the coveted length of the silicone, your mouth already watering. Jimin may deny it, but he is far more acquainted with the green eyed monster than he would like to admit especially when it comes to things like this.

But it’s all for good fun, right?

You take the toy to the attached bathroom, making sure that you clean it properly, along with its attached tubing. As your hand fits over its girth and length, you’re already dying to feel it down your throat, slicking it up as your core throbs insistently.

A knock at your bedroom door interrupts your fantasies.

“____? You okay in there?” Jimin’s concerned voice sounds from outside, and you hastily shut off the water, reaching for a few tissues as you step out of the bathroom.

“’’m fine, just need to lie down a while,” your voice wavers a little with nervousness, but Jimin seems to believe it.

“Alright,” he says, and you listen closely as his footsteps carry him away from the door.

You sag in relief, reaching for the remains of the package to feel around for what should be a jar of artificial cum that comes with the squirting dildo, only to come up empty. Despair rises in your throat as you tear the remaining package to bits, but either they forgot to ship it to you, or Amazon is a fucking liar once again.

Shoving the packaging away from you in frustration, all thoughts of a pleasant evening going down the drain just because of some idiot’s inability to follow packaging instructions. How the fuck are you supposed to properly enjoy a squirting dildo without fake cum to go along with it?

This is the last time you’re buying a dildo from Amazon.

You tuck it away securely in the back of your drawer which you keep under lock and key, one that Jimin doesn’t know about before you clean up the packaging and unlock the door, peeking outside only to see Jimin immersed in one of his many video games.

He barely spares you a glance as you sneakily dispose of the packaging in the trash, and he doesn’t sense anything to be amiss. You drop a quick kiss on his cheek, telling him not to stay up too late before going back to bed.

Jimin waits till you’re out the door the next day, the smell of muffins still lingering in the house. It’s only then that he makes his way to your shared bedroom, kneeling down at the one very specific drawer you think he doesn’t know about.

Of course, it’s locked, and the key is nowhere to be found. But Jimin has more up his sleeve, and he won’t be deterred this easily. He spies one of your many stray bobby pins that litter literally the entire house on the floor nearby (what he considers to be the bane of his existence up to this very moment), and uses its rounded tip to pick the lock, and in the blink of an eye, the drawer and its contents lay bare before him.

He spots what you’re hiding from him almost immediately, hands digging right to the back of the drawer and pulling out the thick silicone length. You’re way too predictable, but it’s also because he knows you like the back of his hand. Jimin closes his grip around the thick length, jealousy burning in the back of his throat like acid as he considers how monstrous this dildo is compared to himself. He knows he’s not blessed much in the length department, but he prides himself on always making you whine when he stretches you out on that first delicious thrust into your sweet pussy.

But just as he reaches to replace the toy back into the drawer, something detaches from the bottom of it. It’s a length of transparent tubing with a squeezable bulb at the end of it, and Jimin pauses, rolling the bulb in his palm as he tries to figure out what it could possibly be used for. When he squeezes the bulb hard, a gush of air rushes out from the head of the dildo, startling him.

As soon as he gets over his shock, with it comes an intense arousal as he feels blood rush downwards at the thought of you shoving the length deep inside you, pressing hard on the bulb at the same time in order to feel the cum shoot up your passage and into your womb. And then he can’t help but let his hands slide down his tensed abdomen to palm himself roughly over his sweats just the way he likes it.

Jimin pushes the waistband of his sweats down impatiently, wrapping a hand around his base to start pumping as he drops the silicone dildo to the floor in favour of cupping his balls. Pre cum starts to leak from his tip as he pants heavily, throwing his head back against the foot of the bed. He has in his mind’s eye countless images of you spread out on his bed, thighs wide apart and pussy dripping for him, desperate whines and moans spilling from your lips as you beg for his tongue and cock.

And then warm ropes of cum are all over his bare chest and abdomen, his thighs spread apart wide as he savours the vestiges of his orgasm, milking his cock for the last of his pleasure that now coats his skin. Jimin sits back against the bed, breathing heavily.

But as he pushes himself into a sitting position to clean himself up, he brushes against the silicone dildo that lies forgotten beside him. Jimin glances from the dildo to the mess on his stomach, an idea forming in his head as to just how he intends on teaching you a lesson. He grabs the silicone dildo as he gathers the thick globs of cum on his stomach and abdomen into his palm before it begins to dry.

When he squeezes the base of the dildo, it produces a sucking motion that draws air in from the other side, so when he dips the head of the dildo into his cum filled palm, it sucks his semen up into the tubes concealed within its length. It takes a few squeezes before he manages to get all his cum inside the dildo, but he’s not done yet.

Jimin grabs the dildo, pushing himself up on his feet with the assistance of the bed as he heads for his study room, booting up his computer and ditching his sweatpants altogether. As he props himself on his desk chair, spreading his thick thighs, he feels himself begin to harden once more, arousal spreading through his abdomen as he calls up his favourite porn websites, palming his length once more with the dildo ready beside him.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

When you come home from work again that evening, Jimin is waiting for you at the dining table, still clad in his white shirt and grey sweats from that morning, and immediately you tense up. You’d forgotten that he had a day off today, and expecting that he would be home late again, as usual, you’d gone to your favourite sex shop and purchased a bottle of specialised lube made to look and feel like cum. The one Amazon should have sent you with your purchase if not for their fuck up.

Now, you hide the black plastic bag behind your thigh as you greet Jimin hesitantly.

“H-hi baby, did you take the day off today? You’re home early,” you comment, wondering if you can surreptitiously slip into the bedroom to hide your purchase before he can notice.

But Jimin’s sharp eyes immediately take in what’s in your hands, and he greets you back with a wordless smile. A smile that sends shivers up your spine as he lets his eyes travel the length of your body lasciviously before stopping on your lips.

“Yeah, just felt like a day off today.” Jimin answers simply before pushing himself out of his seat, walking towards you and circling his arm around your waist, turning you toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you go take a shower and relax?”

“U-um, okay,” you let him usher you into the bedroom, relaxing a little at the feeling of his hands on you.

But your blood freezes in your veins, your vision blurs, as you spot the flesh coloured object on your bedside table.

Jimin’s breath is on your neck, his plush lips teasing you with feather like touches. “You’re such a little minx, babygirl. Is my dick not enough for you?”

“N-no, Jimin, it’s not like that, baby please-“

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin growls low in his throat, and your words die on your tongue immediately. Pleased with your obedience, Jimin lets his hands skim down your sides, one wrapping around the curve of your waist and the other palming your ass generously.

Just as you’re caught off guard by his sensuous touches, Jimin grasps the black bag in your hand, wrenching it away from you and reaching inside.

“Is this why you couldn’t use it yesterday? Because you didn’t have this?” Jimin inspects the bottle closely, but you don’t dare to speak without his permission. “Answer me, little minx.”

“Y-yes.”

“Well, who am I to deny my babygirl? You must have been waiting to come back home and load up that dildo with cum, slide it into your precious little pink pussy and fuck yourself senseless, hmm? Were you dripping wet at work today? I bet you were, only sluts like you need a pussy full of cum before they can function.” Jimin releases you, giving you a little push toward the bathroom. “Undress and wait in the shower for me.”

His order sends a jolt straight down to your core as you rush to comply.

Your fingers are shaky, reaching back to unzip your dress. Jimin tugs the zip down the rest of the way for you, sliding your dress off your curves. There is a sharp intake of breath when your scarlet lace bra- his favourite- is revealed to his gaze, and a low curse under his breath when you bend over in front of him, sliding the matching panties off.

A sharp spank to your left cheek reminds you who is really in charge here, and a fond brush of his fingertips against your waist, along with his lingering eyes on your body gives you the confidence to step past him into the shower.

You can hear him uncapping the lube outside the bathroom, and you assume he’s filling up your dildo with the fake cum you’d just bought. Occupying yourself with letting your hands wander down your body, a blush heats up your cheeks when you realise that Jimin is right, your core is dripping already. If you were to inspect the crotch of your panties, you’d bet that it would be stained with your arousal as well.

But there’s no need to wonder, because Jimin steps into the bathroom with the crotch of your panties pressed to his nose, inhaling your scent like a man starved. He has shed his sweats and shirt, allowing you to admire the way his abdomen tenses with every breath he takes, the v cuts on his hips leading your gaze to his already hard cock, leaking with pre cum. His other hand places the dildo on the sink counter, dropping your panties to the floor as he favours the source of the scent that he craves- kneeling at your feet and guiding a thigh over his shoulder.

He smiles sweetly up at you between your thighs- a wolf in sheep’s clothing- as he presses a kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

“Spread yourself for me, let me see how wet you are. How pretty you look inside.”

Your fingers find your lips, trembling as you spread yourself wide for his viewing pleasure, feeling his breath ghosting your clit.

“That’s it princess,” Jimin rewards you with a kitten lick before delving in, sucking and licking at your core, with his tongue probing your cunt deep.

You writhe under his touch, his palms coming up to grip your hips with an iron strength to keep you in place. Jimin sucks your clit harshly, letting one of his hands leave your hips to bury two fingers in your cunt, stroking your walls deftly as he feels you clench around him. Your whines and mewls are music to his ears, chest heaving as he brings you closer to an orgasm, cheeks shining with your arousal as he flicks your clit with the sharp point of his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Heat singes every single nerve ending as you arch against him, Jimin helping you to ride out your orgasm with kitten licks and sucks, thrusting his fingers inside you until you tug on his hair lightly. He pulls away then, licking his lips and glancing up at your fucked out expression.

When he stands, you seek out his lips with a needy whine, tasting yourself on him. Jimin chuckles against your lips, and you feel his lips curve against yours.

“Such a needy little minx,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

You can feel his cock against your belly, and your mouth waters, already sinking to your knees. But Jimin stops you with a harsh grip around your waist.

“Only good girls get to suck my cock,” Jimin’s punishing grip turns you around, cheek to the tile of the bathroom wall as he gropes your ass hard, spanking it and watching your flesh jiggle. “You wanted to use your dildo? You’ll get it alright.”

Jimin leaves for a second, but the next moment you feel the head of the dildo probing your soaked folds as he demands you to spread your thighs for him and arch your back.

“You’re so wet, I bet you could take this dildo without any lube, hmm? Or d’you want that lube you just bought today?”

“N-no, I can take it,” you gasp as he pushes the head just past your entrance.

“Such a pretty little slut,” Jimin breathes against your ear as he slides the rest of the toy into you, the stretch burning.

You’re not used to taking so much length, since Jimin is shorter than the dildo, and you whine when he reaches the halfway point. “Ji-jimin, too much, it hurts-“

“Shhh, you’ll take all of it, just relax, princess. You wanted this, remember? Wanted a longer dick than mine, that’s why you bought this, didn’t you?” Jimin soothes you with his lips on your shoulder, even as he doesn’t let up pushing the length further inside you. “Take it, like a pretty slut should.”

Inch by inch, Jimin coaxes you to take the entire length, you feel his fingertips against you as the base of the dildo rests between your lower lips.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” Jimin traces the shell of your ear with the tip of his tongue. And then he draws it back out, the friction against your walls making your breath rattle in your chest as he makes sure you can feel every single inch.

He wraps an arm around your waist tightly, keeping you flush against him so that you can feel his cock against your ass cheeks even as he pounds the dildo into your cunt. Jimin is careful not to place too much pressure against the base of the dildo so that it doesn’t leak into you before he’s ready. The sight of your pussy spread around the thick dildo has him mesmerized.

Your head is back on his shoulder, moaning incoherently as he fucks you with the dildo, faster and harder than you could ever manage yourself.

“Does it feel good princess? Am I making you feel good?” As much as Jimin relishes his dominance, moments like this allow you to catch a glimpse of his endearing need for praise and acknowledgement.

“Y-yes, Jimin, so good, fuck, you’re so good,” your breathless whimpers against his neck are accompanied with your tender touches against his shoulders.

“Does it feel better than my cock?”

Your fingers tighten around his biceps as he gives a particularly hard thrust. There is a brief catch in his voice that tells you he’s a little affected by your secrecy surrounding the dildo, not that he would ever admit it. But reassuring him and displacing his insecurities is your job as his lover, no matter how unfounded they are. “N-no, Jimin, I didn’t mean it like that, I-

You turn around to face him, his grip slipping from the dildo still embedded inside you. Wrapping a hand around his cock, you give it a few pumps, maintaining eye contact with him. “This is the only cock I’ll ever crave.”

His eyes linger on yours for a few moments, taking in the sincerity of your words as you pull him in for a deep seated kiss that leaves him breathless. “You are the only one I’ll ever want.”

Jimin’s plush lips are even more swollen as they spread into a grin. “Consider me the luckiest man on Earth then.”

And then warmth erupts inside you, wetness coating your walls as Jimin squeezes hard on the base of the dildo, flooding your pussy. Jimin buries the dildo deep into your cunt, and you can feel every surge as the lube travels up your sensitive channel, causing you to clench your sensitive walls around it as a second orgasm washes over you. Jimin continues to thrust the dildo in and out, helping to prolong your pleasure, and the unique sensation of the dildo squirting inside you takes your breath away. The head and length of the dildo is smeared with white as it leaves your pussy, forcing lube out of you, and then deeper inside you, as Jimin plunges it back in, continuing to squeeze on the seemingly endless reservoir of lube. When the head is bottomed out right against your womb, you can feel the head of it spewing against the most intimate parts of you. But then, Jimin draws the dildo out till only the head is buried inside you, giving another squeeze as the both of you watch the white, thick globs leak out of you. You gasp and cling on to his shoulders in response even as Jimin grins cockily.

“Oops, looks like I just came inside you.”

You hit his chest in reprimand, feeling the thick liquid dribble down your inner thighs, creating a whole mess that only serves to turn you on even more. The feeling of the lube leaking from you feels incredibly realistic, and as you reach down to run your fingers through the mess coating your inner thighs, bringing it up to your nose for a sniff, you freeze.

It smells familiar. Almost like… real cum.

Jimin watches as you come to your realisation with a smirk on his lips.

“Fuck, Jimin, this isn’t lube… how?”

“Spent the entire afternoon loading that dildo for you, princess.” Jimin gives a last squeeze to make sure the dildo’s balls are emptied. The last few weak dribbles of cum emerge from the head. “You’d better appreciate it; I think my balls are quite literally empty right now.”

Even as he says it, his hard cock nudges at your cum drenched lips, reminding you that he still needs to be taken care of.

“You’re such a- fuck- jerk,” you gasp as he pushes in deep. The feeling of his cock gliding past your cum slick lips is like nothing else, and you both groan as he sinks in balls deep.

“Shit, I fucking love sloppy seconds,” Jimin pants into your neck at the feeling of the wetness of your pussy engulfing him, cum leaking out around his cock as he pulls out only to thrust back in. “So fucking filthy, only for me, right?”

“O-only for you, for your cock,” you affirm, grasping his shoulders as you take the brutal fucking he dishes out.

He pounds into you hard, relishing your moans as you fight off oversensitivity just to allow him to reach his high. Jimin sinks his fingers into your waist, pulling you onto him as he snaps his hips up, and by now the both of you are such a mess, cum coating both your inner thighs.

“I’m so close, fuck,” Jimin groans as he feels your walls flutter around him.

“That’s it, wanna feel you cum inside me for real, just let go,” you coax into his ear, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he pins your hips to the wall, pistoning his cock in and out in a desperate reach for his own high. You reach a hand between your bodies to cup his balls, squeezing gently to mimic his earlier actions with the dildo. “Fill me up.”

“Shit, here it comes, take it all princess,” Jimin warns you with a growl, sinking his cock in deep. Ropes of his warm release flood your walls, and you can feel his balls pulsing in your palm as he fills you up to the brim. His rhythm grows sloppy as he milks out the rest of his semen, whines spilling from his sweet lips as he buries his face in your neck.

He lets the both of you sink to the ground, arms wrapped around you as you remain perched on his lap, breathing heavily.

“Were you really mad? About the dildo?” You speak first, pulling away from him slightly.

“Not really,” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly. “If I were really mad about it, I wouldn’t have been able to jerk off five times just to fill it up for you, would I?”

“Five times?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Just how much cum do you have? That should be physically impossible!”

“It was worth it,” Jimin grins, fingers grazing over the underside of your breasts. “Better than store bought lube any day.”

“What if I hadn’t been on birth control? You’d be in serious trouble then,” you pinch his nipple in retaliation, and he flinches, a teasing grin on his lips.

“All the better then,” the darkening of his eyes is subtle, but serves to reignite the hunger in your lower belly. “Some dildo you bought. Maybe I’ll even let you use it on me some day.”

#bts #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #bangtanwriters-net #kwriterskollection #btsmaknaenet #bts park jimin #bts jimin smut

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crystal-siren · 6 years

Text

Other Worlds (Obi-Wan x Reader) Pt.4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@dovies666

You’re important to me. I think if there’s anything that will last forever, it’s that. Whether we separate, stay in touch or rarely speak again, you will always be that little someone I really do care for, that I would sacrifice everything for to protect and keep safe. ~ Beau Taplin // Feality

As he followed the Prime Minister’s assistant down many passageways, Obi-Wan began to wonder if this ‘host’ for the clones, had anything to do with the attacks on the Senator and Y/N’s disappearance. His thoughts were interrupted when they suddenly stopped in front of a rather non-descript door.

Waving his hand seems to initiate a doorbell, of sorts. They did not have to wait long until the door slid open and a boy greeted them silently. Obi-Wan noticed that he was identical to the boys back in the classroom he had observed earlier.

“Boba,” the alien spoke, thus introducing the boy. “Is your father here?”

Silences answers them for a short while before the boy nods. “Yep.”

“May we see him?” The Kaminoan asked.

The boy, Boba, nodded again before answering, “sure.” Stepping to the side, he allows both Obi-Wan and his guide to enter the apartment beyond. As they enter, Boba announces their arrival to his father, “dad! Taun We’s here.”

His son’s words draw the bounty hunter out of his bedroom. If he was surprised by the company, he did not show it. His expression remained impassive, even when Taun We introduced Obi-Wan and explained his reason for being there.

“Your clones are very impressive. You must be very proud.” There was truth in what he said and Obi-Wan hoped he sounded convincing enough.

“I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe, Master Jedi.” The complement was brushed to the side as Jango eyed his visitor.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, not the least bit convinced. “Aren’t we all.” His gaze momentarily wandered over the apartment when something caught his eye. An open door displayed segments of body armour, similar to the one Obi-Wan had seen Zam Wesell’s killer wear. While this seemed proof enough that this man was involved, another item snagged his attention. The cylindrical shape of an all too familiar lightsaber rested against the armour. Y/N. There was no doubt in his mind that that weapon was her’s. What was it doing here?

Jango, however had noticed this silent observation and moved to stand in front of the door, blocking Obi-Wan’s view.

“Ever make you way as far into the interior as Coruscant?” He was curious to see how the man would respond.

Jango answered without hesitation. “Once or twice.”

“Recently?”

Jango narrowed his eyes at the Jedi, “possibly.”

Obi-Wan then decided to take a slightly different route. “Then you must know Master Sifo-Dyas.”

Briefly speaking to his son in a different language, Jango turned his attention back to the Jedi. “Master who?”

“Sifo-Dyas,” Obi-Wan supplied, “isn’t he the one that hired you for this job?”

Jango shook his head. “Never heard of him. I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden.”

Curious, Obi-Wan thought to himself. Out-loud he said, “No? I thought...”

Taun We then spoke up for the first time since the introductions. “Sifo-Dyas told us to expect him. And he showed up just when your Jedi Master said he would. We have kept the Jedi’s involvement secret until your arrival, just as your Master requested.”

Obi-Wan nodded, deep in thought.

“Do you like your army?” Jango asked, breaking up his thoughts.

Obi-Wan looked him straight in the eye. “It seems to me it’s your army, being that they are all clones like you.”

The man seemed pleased, “they’ll do their job well. I guarantee that.”

No doubt. Obi-Wan did not break eye contact as he spoke, “I look forward to seeing them in action.” Bowing slightly, he made his farewell, “thank you for your time Jango.”

“Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi.” Jango’s words gave Obi-Wan an unpleasant feeling. Was he talking about Y/N as well? Did he know where she was? Was he the one that had taken her?

Upon exiting the apartment, Obi-Wan knew that the Council had to be told everything.

~ ~ ~

Nightmarish visions of his mother had led him here. To Tatooine. Breathing in the all too familiar dry hot air, Anakin led Padme across the dusty marketplace of Mos Espa.

He approached a well known shop with an all too familiar blue skinned alien sitting out the front.

“Excuse me?” Anakin spoke in Huttese, the same language as what the alien had previously been speaking.

Looking up from his work, the creature eyed Anakin suspiciously. “What? I don’t know you,” he continued to speak in the same language as before, oblivious as to who stood before him. “What can I do for you?” His eyes then widened as he took note of Anakin’s attire, “You look like a Jedi. Whatever it is...I didn’t do it.” In his panic, he dropped the screwdriver he was holding and swore quite colourfully.

“Here,” Anakin reached for a piece of machinery, obviously in need of fixing. “Let me help you with that.” His actions did not go unnoticed by the alien in front of them, who blinked at Anakin in surprise.

“I’m looking for Shmi Skywalker,” Anakin continued speaking Huttese as he proceeded to fix what he was holding.

His words cause the creature to narrow his eyes at him until realisation dawned. “Annie? Little Annie ?” His suspicions were confirmed when the machinery in Anakin’s hands sprung to life. “You are Annie! It is you.”

Anakin seemed unaffected by the small alien’s surprise and attempt to make conversation. His patience was running dangerously low, “my mother...?” He interrupted.

“Oh yeah, Shmi..”the blue alien scratched the back of his neck and paused a little before answering. “She’s not mine no more...I sold her.”

Anakin didn’t know how to process this information. Blinking he met the creature’s gaze, “sold her?” His voice shook ever-so-slightly.

“Years ago. Sorry Annie, but you know, business is business,” he tried to brush it off but Anakin had no intention of letting him. “Sold her to a moisture farmer named Lars,” the alien said by way of explanation. “At least I think it was Lars, he said thoughtfully before perking up. “Believe it or not, I heard he freed her and married her!”

“Do you know where they are?” The look in Anakin’s eyes and the set of his jaw seemed to get the message across.

“Long way from here,” his former owner murmured, “someplace over on the other side of Mos Eisely, I think...”

Anakin’s expression didn’t change, “I’d like to know.”

Quickly taking the hint, the blue alien led Anakin and Padme inside. “Absolutely, let’s go and have a look at my records.”

~ ~ ~

Now was one of those times that Y/N really wished she had her comlink. Not that it would do her much good with bound hands.

Surely someone would have noticed her absence by now. Y/N prayed and hoped that someone had taken the hint and noticed that while she may have been gone, her precious ship was still there.

This man, the one that held her on this Force-forsaken planet, still had the audacity not to introduce himself. Y/N hated being in the dark. It was as though he expected her to know who he was.

The way he addressed her when he had found her by the foundries, was the way one might speak to a youngling.

Looking down at her hands, Y/N groaned as her eyes landed on a chain that ran from the wall to the cuffs around her bruised wrists. She yanked on them experimentaly and screamed in frustration when nothing happened. “I’m not an animal.” She shouted to anyone that might be listening. No matter how hard or often she pulled, the chain would not dislodge from the wall.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like one.”

Y/N ground her teeth in frustration at the voice. Turning to face him, she sent him a withering look and curled her lips. “How. Dare. You.” Lurching towards him, she was brought to a halt by the chain. “Let me go. Right now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “you mean you don’t want to.”

The man sighed as though he was dealing with a stubborn child. “The Council has received your distress signal. I imagine a rescue party is on its way as we speak.”

This brought her up short. “But I didn’t send one,” her brow furrowed in confusion. Then it hit her. “No.” Her voice became a strangled whisper. Looking up, she looked her visitor in the eye. “Who is coming? Who did they send?” Her already tormented mind could only think of one name and she prayed that it wouldn’t be him.

“Someone who knows you better than, perhaps you know yourself.”

Y/N shook her head, struggling to keep her emotions in check. “They wouldn’t.”

“Master Kenobi is on his way as we speak.”

That name shattered any resolve she may have had left. She tore at the chains harder than before. “You’re lying,” she hissed. Her heart hammered in her chest at the prospect. “No. Please. Anyone but him.”

The man only smiled coldly. His suspicion was confirmed. For years now, he had kept an eye on her, watching her. In all that time, he found that she only had one weakness and now he intended to exploit that.

As he turned to leave, she tried once again to reach him. The sound of the chain snapping taut made his smile grow. Perhaps his Master was right and emotional torture was worse than physical.

Fighting to keep the impending tears at bay, Y/N watched him leave and the moment the door closed, she let go of the control she had been clinging to. Her scream of denial echoed off her cell’s stone walls. This really couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare, it had to be. Collapsing against the wall, Y/N closed her eyes and her tortured mind went to the only place that would grant it some peace. Oh Obi-Wan, she thought sadly.

~ ~ ~

The moment that he left the building, Obi-Wan was soaked to the bone. Making his way over to where his starfighter was waiting. With every step, he looked to see if anyone was watching. Sensing and seeing no one, he promptly turned back the way he had come. Relying heavily on his memory, Obi-Wan traced his steps back to Jango’s apartment. The moment he entered, he was met with the tell-tale signs of a hurried departure. The bedroom door was thrown open and the body armour was gone. Obi-Wan immediately began to look for her lightsaber, he could not think of anyone other than her wielding it.

Obi-Wan, the sound of his name brought him up short. That was her voice and she sounded so sad. How he had longed to hear her voice since her disappearance, if only to make sure she was safe.

His search for her weapon proved to be fruitless and as he was about to turn and leave the apartment, something small and metal caught his eye. Picking it up, he noticed that this one was her’s as well. Tightening his grip on it, he noticed a small screen off to the side and watched with widened eyes as he watched Jango and his son prep their ship for take-off.

Confident that he had something to do with Y/N’s absence and the attempts on Padme’s life, Obi-Wan headed to the nearest exit and drew his lightsaber.

He lost his element of surprise when Boba alerted Jango to his presence. Thus began the duel between the Bounty Hunter and the Jedi. Managing to deflect Jango’s numeours blaster shots, Obi-Wan resorted to physical combat skills when his lightsaber flew from his hand and skidded across the wet landing platform.

The physical fight that ensued between the two eventually sent both tumbling over the edge. As a desperate last resort, Jango fired a cable into one of the numerous towers, thus causing both to dangle dangerously close to the edge.

Managing to grip onto a nearby railing, Jango severed the cord, sending Obi-Wan down towards the raging waters beneath. Not waiting long enough to find out whether or not Obi-Wan had survived the fall, the bounty hunter climbed into his ship and prepared to leave.

The Jedi had indeed survived. Landing on a platform just above the waves, Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could towards the departing ship. Seeing the loading ramp close and the thrusters ignite, he threw a small homing device onto the ship’s hull.

Hold on Y/N, he thought to himself, I’ll find you soon.

To be continued...

Part 5

#star wars #attack of the clones #prequels #reader insert #obi-wan X reader #obi wan imagine #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #padme amidala #battle of geonosis #clones #darthsidious #beau taplin

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