#drawing padmes hair was so fun

[iszapizza]

their friendship means so much to me aaa

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #they are gossiping #doodle #drawing padmes hair was so fun #obi wan in a ponytail supremacy #hhhhhhhh

[seeingivy]

the party scene

roommate eren x f!reader 

you and eren won’t dance 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: drinking, hitch and marlowe being annoying, someone gets pushed into a pool, marco getting clowned for his halloween costume, toilet humor 

an: ok yall. here’s the chapter. heheheheheh. and you should listen to the song, when you get to it. for vibes of course. to many anon who guessed correctly, hundreds of kisses. not my fav roommates chapters me thinks (but also it seems like everyone else has different fav chapters than I expected so)

previous part linked here

- 

“What are you going to be for the party?” 

You can literally see Eren’s ears perk up, breaking his concentration from the dinner he was cooking on the stove. You tried to make ravioli for dinner. Key word, tried. He didn’t let you stand there for longer than two minutes because he didn’t want you to “burn the apartment down.” 

You put foil in the microwave one time and suddenly he thinks you’re some arsonist. 

“The party on Friday? You’re going, peaches?” 

“Yeah. Jean invited me. Kind of being a wingwoman for him and bringing my classmate Marco, who I’m like ninety percent sure he has a crush on.” 

Eren turns his face back to the pan, dishing the food around on the plate. You get up occasionally, grabbing things you know he’ll need before he asks for them. Setting the dishes, grabbing the salt (because this man doesn’t know how to season), the Yerba Mate Eren claims to hate but drinks anyways. 

“Hitch and I are going as Anakin and Padme. From Star Wars. Apparently, Marlowe loves that crap and she never gave him the time of day for it. She thinks it’ll make him real mad if we show up like that.” 

“You should put a braid in your hair. You know, like from the second movie.” 

“Ew. I’m going as the third movie look.” 

“Good. He’s hotter in that movie anyways.” 

He flashes you a smile as he dishes out the food, lifting the plates and setting them on the table. You join him with the drinks, the two of you sitting right next to each other. 

It was getting easier. Eren was your friend. Maybe even your best friend. You’d still get the occasional heart pounding, flustered cheesk whenever he walked past you or said something that made your heart flutter, but other than that, you were making progress. You can live with a heart flutter here and there. 

“What are you going to be?” 

“Jean wants to do some basic angel/devil thing for the party. I’ve got a white dress and he apparently has a halo already so it should be fine.” 

“Have you ever been to a party?” 

“Yeah. Not really my thing though, but I don’t mind helping Jean. It can be fun with friends. Dancing, letting loose and all that.” 

“Hm. Save a dance for me, peaches?” 

“I’m not riding up on you, Eren. That’s weird.” 

He drops his fork, an exasperated expression spreading across his face. The vein in his forehead is prominent and you always enjoy when it shows up because you know you’ve won. He’s just that easy to aggravate. 

“Who said anything about you riding up on me? I didn’t mean it like that. That’s like…perverted. You could expect that type of shit from Jean or something but-” 

You place your hand against his forearm, laughing in his face. He stops immediately at the sight of your laughter, glaring at you. 

“You’re so easy to piss off, Eren. I’ll save you a dance, okay? A normal one.” 

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to shake.

“Deal?” 

“Deal, Ren.” 

 - 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Ren.” 

He steps into the bathroom, standing directly behind you as you finish doing your makeup for the party. Jean was supposed to be here in thirty minutes and the two of you were going to go pick up Marco. Meaning, you were going to have to deal with their awkward pining for the ten minute drive to the party. 

“Can you help me with something?” 

“Sure. What’s up?” 

“Can you help me draw the scar?” 

“Oh, yeah. Show me the picture.” 

He hands you his phone as you inspect the picture, the scar starting before the eyebrow and breaking just underneath the left eye. He sits on top of the toilet seat, his ankles crossed over each other. 

“Ah. Hitch gave me this to use. For the scar.” 

He hands you a tube of lipstick, which you slide open and swatch against the back of your hand. Too glittery for a scar.

“Do you mind if I use mine? Hers is kind of glittery and it’ll look kinda weird?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

You bend over, digging through your bag to find the one tube of red lipstick you own, that Pieck forced you to buy for her wedding. You can’t show up to my wedding in lip gloss, that’s an atrocity. You find the tube at the end of the drawer, walking over to where Eren was sitting. 

As you amble over, you realize that the toilet seat is way too low and you can’t properly reach Eren’s face to reach. You were towering over him, his long legs sprawled across the floor of the bathroom. 

“Why are these toilet seats so low? I can’t even get the right angle.” 

“Levi. Kenny told me he hates having his feet dangle over certain toilets so he makes sure to get the shortest ones when picking his apartments. As if Levi’s going to come shit in our toilet at some point.” 

You nod, trying your best to lean over and indent the mark over Eren’s face. Out of all the angles you try, not one of them works - your head is blocking the light, your hands are in a weird position, you’re all up in his space. 

“Just sit on my knee. If it’s easier.” 

He splits his legs, tapping on the top of his thigh for you to sit. You nod, setting both of your legs on each side of his one as you lightly perch on top of his leg. 

“That’s hovering. Not sitting, Y/N. It’s fine.” 

You sigh, pressing your full weight against Eren as you lean back over for the phone and check the picture. As you slide over reaching for it, Eren puts his hands on your waist, holding you from falling off of his knee. 

“Thanks Ren. Just wanted to check again before I started.” 

You focus on the picture, the light shining against your face as you check where the scar was exactly on your eyes. Eren locks his fingers together behind your waist, pulling you closer so you can get a better look. 

“Okay. I think I’ve got it down.” 

You cradle the side of his face in your hands as you start drawing the scar on, trying to be as gentle as possible. Trying to avoid the fact that you’re basically straddling him right now. You can feel his cheeks warming under your touch and you try your hardest not to let the smile spread across your face. At least it’s not just you. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing Ren. You’re just blushing, that’s all.” 

“You’d blush if you were in my position too.” 

You shake your head, pressing your fingers against his lips so you can stop him from moving. You’re only halfway through the scar and if he talks again you’re going to smudge it. 

“Since when do you wear red lipstick?” 

“I don’t. Pieck made me buy it for her wedding. It’s for special occasions.” 

You lean back, cupping his face in your hands as you glean your eyes over the scar. You compare it to the picture and figure it's semi accurate, giving him a smile to signal you’re done. You slide off of his legs, beckoning him to join you in the mirror. You watch him lean forward, eyeing your work. 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“Can I try?” 

“Try what?” 

“Doing makeup on you.” 

You pause, dropping your lipstick tube back into the box. 

“I don’t have a scar for my costume.” 

“I know. But you must have something left to do. You just looked so focused, like you were face painting, and I just wanted to try.” 

“Um, okay. You can take this glitter. You basically just dip your finger in it and swipe it against my eyelids. And then along the collarbone too, because it's body glitter.” 

He nods, taking the white glitter into his hands. He inspects the box first, turning it over and over again, holding it up against the light, smelling it. 

“Do you need to do a police inspection on the box? It’s just glitter.” 

“Shut up. I was just checking if it was okay to use.” 

“It’s obviously okay to use if I’m giving it to you. I’ve used it before.” 

He rolls his eyes, learning down. He sets his hands on both sides of your face, angling your face to inspect you this time. 

“You’re short.” 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” 

“Do you always have to give me attitude?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Sit on the counter. It’ll be easier for me to do if we’re closer to the same level.” 

You brace your palms against the counter, trying to push yourself onto the counter. You clearly misestimated how tall the counter was because you barely hit the back of the top, stumbling in the air. 

“Okay, Humpty Dumpty. Let me help you.” 

He reaches down, securing his hands around your waist to lift you up to the counter. You can feel your cheeks burning at the sensation, unable to look him in the eyes. 

Right. Because it was getting easier, because he was becoming your friend. But there were still moments like this. Ones where you can feel your cheeks burning, your heart pounding, your fingers shaking. 

You hate that he still makes you feel this way. 

“Okay, widen your stance.” 

“What?” 

“Open your legs.” 

“Ew. You’re so vulgar, Eren.” 

“Well, I said to widen your stance and you gave me that stupid look on your face. It’s your fault.” 

You roll your eyes, parting your legs. He steps in between the space, leaning close to your face with the glitter still in his hands. 

“So, the eyelids and collarbones?” 

“Yeah. You can just use your fingers. You wash your hands after you pee, right?” 

“Of course not.” 

“What?” 

“It’s better for the environment. If I just wait until I have to poop, I can just save water by washing my hands once. You should try it.” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“As if. Girls don’t poop.” 

“Yes, they do.” 

“No, they don’t.” 

“There’s no way girls don’t poop.” 

“Ask your mom. Or Mikasa. They’ll tell you the same thing.” 

“Okay, stop fucking around. We’re running late.”

“You started it with your stupid toilet humor.”

“Shut up. Your attitude is going to kill me one day.” 

“That’s a promise, Yeager.” 

He rolls his eyes, a small smile spread across his face as he dips his thumb into the glitter. He cups the side of your face and you flutter your eyes shut, his fingers gentle against your eyes. You can hear him laughing and you squint your eyes, glaring at him as you open them. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing Y/N. You’re just blushing, that’s all.” he responds, his tone mocking. 

“Did you do this just to prove a point? It looks like finger painting, my ass.” 

“Close your eyes. I’m not done yet.” 

You shut your eyes again, Eren sliding the last bit of glitter along your eyes. You open your eyes to find him staring at you, his eyes wide. 

“What did you do? Don’t tell me there’s glitter on my forehead.” 

“No, it just looks pretty, that’s all.” 

You look down, focusing on his hands as he dips into the glitter again. Stupid fucking hands and voice and smell and hair and soft cheeks. You can literally feel your heartbeat all the way in your stomach and he’s barely even touching you. 

He uses his hands to tilt your face up, lightly pressing the glitter against the exposed parts of your neck. You feel your body shiver, instantly remembering the last time you and Eren were like this. Pressed up in the bathroom, with him kissing your neck. He presses his hand to your shoulder, his eyes washing over in concern at you shivering. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry. Got a weird sense of deja vu, that’s all.” 

He nods, finishing off the last of the glitter. When he’s done, he locks his hands across your waist again, lightly setting you back down on the counter as you both stand there. You’re both staring at each other, neither one of you talking first. 

Right. Because what are you supposed to say after that? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking of your lips on my neck, my bad.

The doorbell rings and Eren gives you a soft smile before squeezing your shoulder and leaving. You can hear Hitch in the doorway and you try to ignore the way your entire body is steaming. 

  -

“What are you even supposed to be, Marco?” 

“I’m a space cowboy, Y/N!”

“You’re holding a glittery gun and wearing a flannel. You look like a kid who got lost at Party City and picked the closest thing you could find. You don’t even have a cowboy hat.” 

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.” 

You watch Marco’s cheeks turn a bright pink, awkwardly stuttering to respond to Jean. Great. They’re going to do this whole oblivious idiots thing all night. 

Marco slides into the front as you and Jean walk to the other side, unlocking the car. 

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.” you say, mocking Jean’s high pitched voice. 

He rolls his eyes, lightly shoving you as you settle into the seat behind him. They’re both talking animatedly, forgetting you were even sitting in the back. You unlock your phone, playing Wordscapes as they go on in the background. 

- 

Eren’s eyes were trained on your figure, as Jean and Marco were spinning you around on the dance floor with them for a better part of the last forty-five minutes. He’s been waiting, staring at you, anticipating when you’ll look at him. 

You’re driving him crazy. Today, especially. Soft glitters, a willowy white dress, that stupid flowery perfume you wore during the concert. He even likes the stupid halo you have on your head. 

He wants to touch you. Press his hands against yours, drag you out and leave with you so he was the only one who could see you like this, your stupid eyes glittering in the light. 

He hates that you can still make him feel this way. 

He sees you leave, waving off Jean and Marco who were still left on the dance floor. Marco’s wearing your halo and you have the glittery gun Marco was holding. 

He’s still watching you. Shamelessly. You weave around people talking, wait to walk forward so you don’t get in the way of pictures, compliment strangers on their costumes. 

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, Hitch.” 

She’s been annoyed for a better part of the last hour, not that he’s been paying much attention to it. Marlowe still hasn’t shown up. 

He doesn’t mind the guy. He doesn’t quite understand why Marlowe and Hitch have to play these games - circling around each other, making each other jealous, making up. He figures a part of it is the chase, but he’s always found that part the most agonizing. He’d catch you if he could. He’s been waiting long enough. He’d make you feel good right here and right now. 

He watches you leave the room, leaving the heat of the room to the patio outside. 

“Mind if I leave? Just call me when he’s here, okay?” 

Hitch nods and Eren basically bolts out the door, ready to follow you where you went. But before he can, Jean all but falls right off the dance floor, piled on the floor in front of him. He can see Marco’s hand under him, dragging them both up by their arms. He can tell Jean’s already too far gone and that he has to deal with this first. Then you. 

-

Your feet hurt. Like a bitch. You made the wrong choice of wearing your Doc Martens to the party. You had figured you wouldn’t be moving much, just sticking to the walls and talking to whoever you knew there. But no, of course Jean’s nervous ass had to drag you onto the dance floor with Marco, the three of you spinning in circles. 

You had made your safe escape, sitting outside on the patio. You had been watching the wind whistle through the trees in the dead of night, watching the lights in the pool change colors. They had been changing every minute - switching from purple, to red, to green. There were a few stars glittering out, barely sparkling in the sky. 

“Anyone sitting here?” 

You look up to find a guy with black hair and pale green eyes kneeling down, crossing his legs next to yours. 

“No. Well you are, now.” 

He smiles, the two of you sitting in silence. You watch people swerve around the pool, girls holding hands, people leaning against the chairs, everyone nursing drinks in their hands. 

“I’ve never seen you around here.” 

“Yeah. I don’t really come to these things, I just came here with my friend Jean.” 

He nods, leaning down to feel the temperature of the water. 

“Do you want to play twenty questions?” 

You hike your knees against your chest, tangling your fingers together across. 

“Sure.” 

“Your name is…?” 

“Y/N. Yours?” 

“Marlowe.” 

Right. Hitch’s Marlowe. The guy she was trying to make jealous, the reason Eren was seeing her and not you. Well, not exactly. He said you two were just a mistake but you could have convinced him if she wasn’t in the picture. Semantics. He taps your shoulder and you forget that it’s your turn. 

“You play a sport, Marlowe?” 

“Water Polo.” 

You nod, lightly turning your head to the side. This is wrong. Surely Hitch wouldn’t be the happiest that you were sitting with Marlowe and not her. You can hear the party getting louder behind you and you swear you can hear her screaming in there somewhere. 

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?” 

“Uh, no. You?” 

“Not exactly, Y/N.” 

“I have this friend, I think you’d like her. Her name is-” 

“Hitch?” 

You pause, swallowing as you turn your face to look at him. He’s sitting way too close, an all-knowing look plastered on his face. 

“Yeah.” 

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’m okay, for now. It’s your turn to ask.” 

“Um, okay. Why don’t you want to see Hitch?” 

“Because I’m talking to you.” 

He untangles his legs and stands up, holding out his hand for you to follow. You press your hand into his and he pulls you up, not letting go of your hand as the two of you stand. The party is getting even louder, the sound of voices drowning out the sound of the music. You’re positive you can hear her now. 

“My turn. Do you know a guy named Eren? Plays soccer, green eyes?” 

“Uh, no. Never heard of him.” 

He nods, squinting his eyes at you. He must know Eren’s your roommate. Maybe he’s found out their together and he’s trying to get you to admit it. You let go of his hand, the two of you standing awkwardly by the pool. 

You can’t really tell what he’s getting at, but every part of him irks you out. He’s perfect for Hitch. 

“My turn, Marlowe. Are we done now?” 

“That’s barely even twenty. But fine, one more question.” 

You teeter on the balls of your feet, ready to take off the second he asks his stupid question. He turns to the side, eyeing the window, before asking. 

“When was the last time someone kissed you?” 

Before you can respond, Marlowe crashes into the pool, with Eren suddenly standing at your side. Eren just pushed Marlowe into the fucking pool. You can hear the sound of footsteps behind you - Hitch, Jean, and Marco at your sides. 

Jean and Marco - well wasted beyond their minds - swing their arms around you, slurring as they ask you if you’re okay. Hitch on the other hand is pissed. At Eren. 

“What the hell is your problem, Eren?” 

“Him, Hitch. He was pissing me off.” 

“This wasn’t what I meant when I asked you for help with this Eren. And your stupid roommate wasn’t helping the case either.” 

You feel your eyes widen, as you make eye contact with Hitch, awkwardly crossing your arms across each other. You turn back to Jean, who still isn’t paying attention, instead playing rock paper scissors with Marco on the floor. 

“You want to be with Marlowe so bad, Hitch? Go ahead and join him.” 

He leans over, lightly pushing Hitch into the pool where Marlowe was still watching. He turns to you and ou can tell he’s pissed - that stupid vein on his forehead is showing again. But not in the good way. 

“We’re leaving, Y/N.” 

He grabs the edge of your wrist, dragging you towards the door as you shake on his hand. 

“I drove here with Marco and Jean, Eren. And they’re way too drunk to drive home now.” 

You both turn back, leaning over Marco and Jean. Jean’s way too out of it, but Marco looks up, smiling at the two of you. 

“You guys are so cute. I love your Anakin and Padme costume.” 

Right. Because he took your halo and you took the glittery gun because he kept hitting Jean with it. Eren turns to you, shaking your hand again. 

“Armin will come get them. You and I are leaving. Now.” 

“But how will he even find them? And what about Marco’s car?” 

Eren turns around fully, stopping in the center of the door. He’s pissed, at you now, and you can lightly hear Marlowe and Hitch arguing in the background. 

“You can hear them right? Knowing them, they’re going to walk up in a few seconds and start arguing with you and me. And if he says some shit again, I’m going to do worse than just push him into a fucking pool. You and I are leaving.” 

He tangles his fingers around your wrist again, his touch still gentle, as the two of you file out of the party, making it back to the apartment. 

 - 

Eren doesn’t say anything to you as you walk to the car, when you drive home, or even when you stare at him from the confines of your kitchen. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re waiting. For an explanation. 

But he can’t do that can he? Tell you that the reason he pushed Marlowe in the pull and argued with Hitch is because he can’t stand the thought of him being with you? He can see the entire scene in his head, like he has been for the past hour, his anger burning every time he does. 

“Jean, get the fuck up. You too, Marco.” 

They both stand up, half leaning on each other. Totally gone. 

“Eren. Marlowe’s here.” 

He turns to find Hitch at his side, her face scrunched up in anger. Eren waves off Marco and Jean, pushing them towards the kitchen where (he hopes) they’ll find water and sober up a little. There’s no way he’s letting them drive you home, that’s for sure. 

“Where?” 

“With your stupid roommate outside. What is she doing?” 

Eren turns his neck to find you, where he was just about to join you, sitting by the side of the pool. He can see Marlowe sitting next to you, leaning way too close for his liking. He turns back around, pressing his hands against Hitch’s shoulders. 

“Get him to leave. Now.” 

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” 

He drags Hitch out by the arm, the two of them leaning their necks so they can hear what you and Marlowe are talking about. 

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?” 

That’s enough. Eren moves forward, not exactly sure what he’s going to do, but Hitch stops him, pulling him back by the wrist. 

“What are you doing, Hitch?” 

Hitch digs her fingers into Eren’s wrist, turning to glare at him. 

“What the fuck is she doing?” 

“He asked her the question, Hitch. Shut the fuck up.” 

He’s getting angrier. He can feel it - burning hot, red anger. Because why the fuck is Marlowe talking to you? Asking you if you’re alone? Why are you talking to him when you know he’s here? And why the fuck is Hitch pissed at you like Marlowe’s not the one all over you right now? Don’t you know he’s been waiting for that dance you promised him all night? 

“Not exactly, Y/N.” 

“I have this friend I think you’d like. Her name is-” 

“Hitch?” 

He turns back, his turn to glare at Hitch. 

“See, Hitch. It’s fucking Marlowe. Now go and stop him.” 

“How the fuck am I supposed to stop him? And I have no interest in chasing him.” 

“Get mad. Argue and then kiss and makeup. I don’t give a fuck. Just get him to stop fucking talking to her. Now.” 

“I already told you. I’m not chasing him.”

“This isn’t fucking about you. Do something now or I’ll call the deal off now. I’ve already done more than enough and you can’t do one thing for me?” 

“Why do you even care?” 

He turns his neck again, to find you and Marlowe standing, his hand in yours. He can’t stand it. Your hand in his. Because he doesn’t deserve you. No one does. Because he can’t treat you right and Eren can. He’d praise the ground you walk on if you let him. 

He hears the last question and he can’t take it anymore.

“When was the last time you were kissed?” 

So he does the only thing he can think of. Push Marlowe in the pool. Drag you out of the party, where Hitch and Marlowe and Jean or Marco or anyone can’t talk to you. See you. He hates it. Being possessive, getting jealous. He knows you’re not his. But he can’t fucking stand it. It makes his skin fucking burn thinking of an asshole like Marlowe even touching you, let alone kissing you. 

“Earth to Ren?” 

He looks back up to find you staring at him, awkwardly brushing your hands against your forearms. Right. Because you’re still waiting for a fucking answer and he can’t tell you. Tell you that the thought of another man touching you drives him crazy, that the only person who could touch you right, make you feel good was him. 

“You’re doing that thing again. I can see the steam coming off of your head.” 

He deflates, leaning against the counter as he watches you. You’re moving from the side, pressing the glass of water in your hand to the dispenser in the kitchen. It’s pissing him off even more. The thought of someone seeing you like this - bedhead in the morning, focused when you’re doing your makeup, half asleep on the couch. He can’t fucking stand it. 

“So. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, Darth Vader. No need to growl at me.” 

Fuck. Everything is pissing him off. Everything. 

“Let’s think about something else, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it just….stop being so pissy.” 

You’re at his side, circling the glass of water in your hand. 

“Fine. The answer to the question. What was it?” 

“What question, Ren?” 

“The one Marlowe asked you. Before I pushed him in the pool.” 

When was the last time you were kissed? In the bathroom, when Eren had his lips pressed to your neck. 

“A real kiss, Y/N.” 

Eren Yeager, mind reader.

“Oh. Um. A while ago, maybe a year? It was back when I was dating Floch.” 

Eren turns his neck, his eyes flashing at you as you look at him. He looks less angry, his eyes more concerned than murderous like they were a few seconds ago. 

“I don’t even think I can remember. I don’t know - he never really liked that stuff. Affection, compliments, all that.” 

“Did you ask him to? Do that stuff?”

“At first, yeah. But he never did.” 

Now he’s even more pissed. Because an asshole wanting to kiss you, him doing it all wrong is infuriating enough. But the fact that you had to ask someone to do it? He’d literally drop on his fucking knees if you gave him the chance and you had to ask someone for it? 

Eren does the only thing he can. The only thing he knows how to do. He wraps his arms around you, tucking your face against his neck as he holds you. 

It was either this or kissing you, full on like he wanted to. But he can’t really do that. So hugging it is. He hears you murmur against his shoulder, your arms pressing against his back. 

“S’okay Eren. What are you so mad about?” 

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it. And no. It’s not.” 

“We don’t. But I think this is less about whatever happened and more about whatever just-” 

He tightens his grip on you, the pressure of his arms silencing you. 

“I’m mad because you should be kissed. Often. And by someone who knows how. Like they can’t get enough of you, like you’re the air they breathe, like you’re inventing kissing just by putting your lips together.”

Shit. He said too much. 

You stand in silence, staring at him as he finishes talking. Oh he messed up big time. 

He watches the smile spread across your face, your eyes still in the dim light of the kitchen. Stupid fucking glitter. He’s going to go into the bathroom and throw it out. 

“Didn’t realize you cared so much, Ren.” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“Why do you?” 

“Why do I what?” 

“Care so much, Eren?” 

You watch him constrict his fists again, his jaw clenched.

“Selfish reasons.” 

You walk up to the counter where he’s leaning over, lacing your arm through his. You push your hands into his fists, forcing him to stop clenching his hands so hard. You can tell his anger is dissipating, his shoulders slowly tensing as you touch him. 

“Selfish reasons?” 

“I don’t want to see you unhappy or anything. You’re like...my best friend right now. Is it so weird that I want you to be happy?” 

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. Fucking idiot. 

“No, Ren. It’s not weird.” 

You both stand like that for a while, your head pressed against his shoulder. He’s still tense, his heart pounding against your ear. 

“So I say all this nice shit to you and you have nothing to say back?” 

“Nope.” 

“Nothing at all.” 

You shake your head, watching him begrudingly smile at you as you two smile In the kitchen. You stand there for a while, the anger, awkwardness, wearing off. It’s just you two, standing in the light of your kitchen. 

“You promised me a dance. You never even gave me one, Ren.” 

“I’m not riding up on you, Y/N.” 

“I’m heartbroken.” 

You both laugh and Eren leans over, grabbing your phone from the side. He puts a song on - I Won’t Dance by Fred Astaire - and holds his hands out. You lean forward, knotting your hands behind his back as he presses his hands to your waist.

“You know Fred Astaire, Ren?” 

“Old timey shit. My parents love it.” 

You tangle your hands behind his neck, the two of you dancing in the dim light of your kitchen. 

You hate this. That you want to lick all his wounds, hold him till his anger goes away. That you want to dance like this in the kitchen with him, all the time. 

He hates this. That it’s this easy for you to fix it all for him. For you to make it better. That he wants to hold you, make you feel good every night. 

Do you love each other? 

- 

next part linked here

taglist: @maliakealoha @smolone88 @mykyoon @squirrelspoetry @roronoazorosbxtchh @fell-4-u @erensleftnutt @thelazylemur @mg63k @filunara @mblrrr @spidersinmybutthole @lezsie @erensmoodygf @maesthebestmonth @nanamiswife22 @lalalucidity @lapin0u @cullenswife @leafguitar @saiyasworld @rebeccawinters @mrs-sullys-blog @red-moon-dream @icansmellsouls @luvinclouds @katestrophes @amourely @6sakusa @miralbdo @k0z3me @celiniverse @txminie-blog @erenspersonalwh0re @s0f14sbs @violetmatcha @sweetenertea @wheredidmycrowngo @serendippindots @intimacywithceline @alonemoth @l0v31yw0r1d @meowmeowmau @miasthoughtsdotcom @lia-sstuff @sad-darksoul @bsenpai @getfckdd @twistedchild808 @conniesbbymama @tysynn @smokeyfuzz @faejvst 

reply under this post or any of the one’s linked above to be added to the tag list! <3 

#haha...hahahahhahahahha #roommate eren #roommate eren x reader #eren #eren jaeger #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk #seeingivywrites! #read more break

[hwasdvlly]

Spooky Fun | p.seonghwa

☆ summary: it's halloween and the family decides to do something extraordinary.

☆ pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

☆ genres: romance, fluff, and family

☆ word count: 1k words

☆ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!seonghwa, non-idol!reader, married couple, star wars cosplay, very soft moments

☆ a/n: happy halloween my beautiful readers!

October 31st is the last day of the month and the time for a spooky celebration. 

For this year’s costume theme, Seonghwa chose no other than his favorite movie franchise, Star Wars. He had always wanted to be Anakin Skywalker. Now, he wanted to try it out with his three beloveds: you and the little stars Seonghan and Hyeseong. 

The oldest child is Park Seonghan. Atinys nicknames him as ‘mini-Seonghwa’ because he looks so identical to his father that it’s uncanny. Seonghan even has a gentle and bright personality with a hint of wittiness, like Seonghwa. 

The youngest child, Park Hyeseong, is more of a shy little girl. But underneath her shyness is a lovely angel who is a passionate dancer and enjoys drawing cute animals and nature. Like her mother, she inherited an elegant beauty. Hyeseong is more of a mommy’s girl, but she does consider her appa as her best friend and the hero of her life. 

“This is where the fun begins.” Seonghwa checks himself out through a full-length mirror and tries to act all mysterious and lethal. He has on his costume, which is handmade, and his toy lightsaber. Seonghwa will forever be a kid at heart, and he is happy that his dream of Halloween came true. 

“I think you’re having too much fun as Anakin.” You walked out of the bathroom. You are Padme Amidala. It’s very appropriate for you and Seonghwa. 

He turns and sees you in a pretty olive green dress with a hoodie over your soft curls. Seonghwa grins, “I can’t help it. I wonder what our little stars will look like.” He goes up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Everything about you is beautiful. He is glad that you are down to do this idea of a celebration. You rest your hands on his chest. You lift your eyes to meet his gorgeous, deep brown orbs. “They’re going to look so cute! I think their uncles will die of cuteness.” You let out a giggle. 

Seonghwa smirks, “Hell yeah, they will. Our kids are the best.” He is so prideful and supportive of his little ones that he does sound cocky at times. You snickered and shook your head. “I agree, but please, don’t embarrass them.” As much as you deeply love Seonghwa, he exaggerates almost everything.

“Since we are talking about our little stars, why not see them,” Seonghwa suggested. You beamed and nodded. 

The married couple intertwined their fingers to go to their children’s room. Seonghan and Hyeseong share a space because there aren’t a lot of rooms in the house, but they get along together. 

“Hannie, Hye. Are you guys ready for Halloween?” You asked the kids. 

“Yes, we are!” They answered in unison. 

Upon arriving in their room, you and Seonghwa gasped at the sight of Seonghan and Hyeseong. They look so cute!

Seonghan is The Mandalorian. He has artificial berserk armor and a helmet. Hyeseong is Grogu. She has those green protruding ears as a headband, the brown robe, and her hair in twin tails.

“You guys look awesome!” Seonghwa couldn’t help but squeeze the life out of his babies. He bends down and brings them into his comfy arms. You smiled by the door frame at the wholesome moment. Seeing Seonghwa happy with the kids makes you fall in love with him all over again. 

The father lets go and takes out his phone from his trousers. “Smile for grandpa, grandma, the uncles, and for us,” Seonghwa tells Seonghan and Hyeseong. The kids posed cutely for the camera, and their dad snapped hundreds of photos. 

“Okay, okay, Hwa, that’s enough. We don’t want to be late.” You stopped your husband because he was going overboard. Seonghwa looks through the gallery and squeals. “So cute!! Look, love.” He shows you the little stars. You smiled merrily at their cuteness. 

“This is the way.” Seonghan points to the exit of the front door. The Park Family are putting on their shoes and carrying their Halloween buckets. 

“Patu!” Hyeseong shouted. Her parents burst out laughing at her adorable imitation. 

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa opened the door for his loved ones, and they began to march outside. 

Hyeseong holds your hand as she swings your arm back and forth. Their home isn’t far from the KQ Building, so it’s much easier for Seonghwa to go to work. As they walked on the streets, people noticed them in their Star Wars costumes. It caught everyone’s attention. 

Seonghwa also noticed a few Atinys saying ‘hi’ to them. Seonghan politely greeted them, and they happily squealed at the sweet boy. 

Once arriving at your husband’s workplace, the employees dress in costumes, and they kindly give the children candy. Hyeseong tries to ask for a sweet treat and not be shy. But for real, who can’t resist an angel? 

The party is on the rooftop of the KQ Building. It’s not something Seonghwa and the guys have done before, but since Seonghan and Hyeseong are joining, they want it to be special. 

As they reached the top of the level of the place, Seonghwa opened the door for his family. They were welcomed by fun and frightening decorations and the tasty aroma of food. Last but not least, ATEEZ in their costumes. 

“Hannie!”

“Hye, my love!”

The seven members approach the little stars for a big bear hug. They even gave them candy because they truly love them.

Hongjoong gathers Hyeseong into his arms and plants a kiss on her plush cheeks. He is her favorite uncle, and he does enjoy being one. Except he spoils the heck out of her. Seonghan doesn’t have a favorite uncle, but he does prefer to be with the 99 liners. Seonghwa doesn’t know if he should be concerned if his son will get influenced by their antics or end up being a little mischievous. 

“Nice Star Wars getup.” Jongho commented with a gleeful smile. He and the members are impressed by the family’s efforts to look like the characters. 

“Let me guess,” Yunho puts a finger on his lips. “It was Hyung’s idea.” He says without sounding clueless. 

You chuckled and nodded. “It was also Hwa’s turn to choose a theme. The kids liked the idea as well.” You look at your husband with love in your eyes. 

Seonghwa sees it and puts on a proud expression. His heart was filled with happiness.

#ateez #atiny #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x female reader #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa imagines

[jessicas-pi]

📔

Ooooh.... Here's a crack AU I made up ages ago!

So, in this AU, when Ezra was young (like... three, maybe,) there was an accident and his parents were killed. And something happened in that accident that revealed he was Force-sensitive. He was brought to Vader, and Vader sees this child—small, but VERY Force-sensitive, and born almost the exact same day Padme died—and his reaction is just, "SON?????"

So... Ezra grows up believing that Vader is his dad.

Anyway, several years pass. Ezra is about twelve now, and he gets his first mission.

It's on Mandalore.

One of the instructors there is beginning to suspect that Sabine Wren is considering treason. Ezra is sent there, disguised as a new student, to "befriend" Sabine and discover if this is true. It backfires spectacularly!

Ezra decides that Sabine is The Coolest Ever, Actually, and sticks to her like a barnacle. They run away from the Academy together (though Ezra does leave a voicemail for Vader telling him everything is OK. He just doesn't want his dad to worry!)

Ezra says he'd like to go live quietly on Lothal (he doesn't remember it's his home, but something about the name sounds Familiar and Good), but Sabine doesn't want to. She says she'll drop him off and then she'll go and be a bounty hunter, but Ezra, who REALLY doesn't want to lose his new bestie, insists that he could be her bounty hunter apprentice. He's, like, really good at being an apprentice. Honest.

Sabine kind of has it in mind that he's this pathetic kid that she needed to babysit and rescue from the Empire (she doesn't know who he really is; Ezra honestly just forgot to ever mention it), but he convinces her to give it a shot.

So, here's the thing. Ezra was raised by Darth Vader, and though he's not actively evil, Ezra's moral compass is a pinwheel and in his mind, the only reason to not do something is if either Vader or Sabine have specifically said Ezra No That's Bad.

After a lot of bad luck, they finally get a bounty puck, and set off to bring the person in. They get to the planet, and Sabine suggests they split up, because she thinks she'll catch the bounty much faster on her own.

She doesn't.

By the time she realizes she needs to follow the sound of people screaming and running, Ezra has already located, ambushed, and messily dismembered the bounty.

"Did I do good?" Ezra asks eagerly.

Sabine quickly switches mindsets from I have to keep this kid from getting himself killed to I have to keep this kid from having a villain arc.

"Um, are you okay?" Ezra asks. "You look kind of weird."

"I'm fine," Sabine says, smiling nervously. "Y'know, maybe we should just go live quietly on Lothal or something."

As it turns out, "living quietly on Lothal" is fun for about a month (which is how long it takes Sabine to paint the entire inside of the comm tower they've claimed as their headquarters, install bunk beds, dye Ezra's hair, and make mini cardboard mandalorian helmets for the two Loth-cats he brought home.) Then boredom sets in, and Sabine takes to vandalism. Ezra goes with her. He thinks it's almost as fun as bounty hunting.

Ezra also spends time exploring the Force. He's been trained in the Dark side but the peacefulness of Lothal starts to draw him towards the Light. He starts to find an equilibrium.

Sabine and Ezra have the time of their lives.

Then, one afternoon, about a year later, when Sabine and Ezra are working on an art project, Darth Vader barges into the comm tower and demands, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, young man?!"

"Aww, Dad!" Ezra whines. "You never let me do anything!"

In hindsight, Sabine thinks, that explains a lot.

#that's all I have solidly worked out but I have this vague idea of sabine and ezra semi-kidnapping vader so he doesn't ruin their fun #and then the spectres come along and sabine and ezra join them and drag darth vader along #and vader accidentally joins the rebellion #thank you for the ask!! #and sorry it's taking me so long to get around to these! #star wars #star wars rebels #inquisitor ezra bridger #ezra bridger #sabine wren

[leviiackrman]

TAG CATCH UP: PERSONAL PICREW, QUESTIONS + URL SONGS;

Heyyooooo I’m back (even tho I never left) but these illnesses have been kicking my ass and I FINALLY feel better! I’ve been tagged in a bunch of fun games recently that I’ve been neglecting, but thank you so much to everyone who tagged me! Have an oversized post to suit my oversized fashion taste tehe

Tagged by: URL Tag: @rolangf @carrionsflower @timdownie @thedeadthree || Questions 1: @rosenfey || Questions 2 + Picrew: @binatalia

Tagging: @bbrocklesnar @risingsh0t @statichvm @marivenah @confidentandgood @unholymilf @florbelles @simonxriley @shellibisshe @roofgeese @aezyrraeshh @faerune @tekehu @arklay @jackiesarch @minaharkers @captmactavish @carlosoliveiraa @queennymeria @shadowglens @nightbloodbix @riikugan @heroofpenamstan @fenharel @alexxmason @malefiicarum @gearvmac @gwynbleidd @delzinrowe + @binickmiller

|| hair colour is not accurate cus I’m a brunette but I bleached it recently so it’s a lot warmer than this! Wolf cut going strong tho and not this long but anyway ||

L: Liar Liar - Dylan, Bastille

E: ERA - The Faim

V: Vampire Disco - Friday Pilots Club

I: IDK How to Talk to Girls - Beth McCarthy

I: I Don’t Like You..OK - The Hunna, Kelsey Karter & The Heroines

A: AmEN! - Bring me the Horizon, Lil Uzi Vert, Daryl Palumbo

C: Conquer - Marshmello, Space Laces

K: Kick Back - Kenshi Yonezu

R: Rise (Redux) - The World Alive, League of Legends

M: Make it Out Alive - ONE OK ROCK

A: Animals - Nickelback

N: Not Alone - New Rules

last song: Stormy Weather - Kings of Leon (my saved songs was playing while doing my chores lmao)

currently watching: I’m FINALLY watching American Horror Story (after my bestie pestered me for years aha) and I LOVE it!! I’m also watching The Kardashians cus it’s good background noise when I’m working lmao, and on going critical role etc

3 ships: I’m gonna choose 3 of my oc ships cus brain no function: Margot x Levi, Rin x Dabi + Mineyo x Rin

favourite colour: mustard yellow! Just such a pretty colour and so cheerful!

currently consuming: the daggerheart one shot hehehehe! So now I’m planning ideas for a daggerheart oc for when me and my sister make our characters!

first ship: anakin x padme…. forever a precious ship to me

place of birth: South England, UK

current location: 30 mins from my birth place lmao, I’ve moved a lot tho

relationship status: single pringle as always but my brain clearly is pining cus I keep having dreams about having a partner…

last movie: oh daymn… uhhh idk I don’t really watch films anymore! I think it was Suzume!

currently working on: oh BOY so many things! I’m making the invites, seating plan, table decorations and other bits for my sisters wedding, I also need to make a curtain for our stair window cus it freaks my dad out lmao, more crochet designs for my Etsy shop (critical role characters and Disney princesses are in progress), timelines for my ocs which is taking FOREVER cus i ain’t no writer, more drawings for my ocs, my oc publication, MULTIPLE ideas for oc art and just never ending odd projects cus i CANT. STOP. OH and all the planning for mummas fundraiser/birthday! So it’s a lot aha

are you named after anyone? Not my first name, but my dad went to a garden centre the day my sister was born and chose 2 flowers for our middle names, so she’s Molly Jasmine and I’m Jessica Rose!

when was the last you cried? Uhhh idk I cry a lot, half the time I don’t even realise I am. Probably on the weekend when I was feeling shit

do you have kids? AHAHAHA no. I have 0 intention of having my own children but whenever I’m financially stable (and potentially with someone) I wanna adopt/foster as many kids as I can!

what sports do you play/have you played? When I was younger I played football, hate it now. I play games at work with the kids a lot but nothing legit

do you use sarcasm? I’m British. So what do you think?

what is the first thing you notice about people? Their eyes and smiles! I can tell when someone isn’t smiling genuinely tbh

what is your eye color? Hazel but got a lot of green in them

scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies. That way I can create my own happy endings while enjoying the carnage hehe

any talents? I don’t really believe in ‘talents’, I prefer to think that anyone can CREATE a talent through practice and dedication. I guess you could say my art skills are a talent, but again I practiced for my whole life so it’s not really a talent more than determination. I can also cook decently, dance/sing okay, but they’re not talents to me, just passions

where were you born? The shit hole called England.

what are your hobbies? Oh FUCK I have way too many… drawing, crocheting, editing, writing, reading, watching anime, creating characters + content, puzzles, painting, diamond painting, organising and SO MANY MORE

do you have any pets? I doooo! I have 1 doggo named Harley and she is my pride and joy, I love her sm

how tall are you? 5 foot 11 and a half, so I just say 6 foot

favorite subject in school? Art, history, dance, drama and IT

dream job? Freelance artist or concept artists. Tho the latter is less likely nowadays cus yknow… everything is fucked from AI…

#tagged* #about me* #rolangf #carrionsflower #timdownie #thedeadthree #rosenfey #binatalia #run down of illnesses cus BOY it’s a lot: head cold for over a month turned bacterial infection in my chest #antibiotics gave me a bad UTI cus turns out I’m allergic to penacilldn #constant back pain and headaches #sooooo yeh it’s not been great #but thank you again for the tags!

[marinersubmariner]

AU looks for Rey and Ben

Commentary under the cut

I initially conceived of this as being solely about the hairstyles, but then I couldn’t just make them wear one outfit because different outfits go with different looks, so it increasingly became a very high effort video game character customizer. It’s just too much fun to play dress-up, and what better time to indulge my love of space fashion than with a custom template of my favs!!

I actually do have a longtime dream of making a paper doll set because I love outfits, I love canonverse AUs, and the lack of significant variety in their looks throughout the sequel trilogy has obviously driven me to madness, but. drawing clothing on entire head-to-toe figures is a whole thing. These busts alone took so much time I don’t know if I’d ever finish something more extensive.

Miscellaneous notes and thought processes from staring at this for way too long:

Short-haired Rey/long-haired Ben 4ever

Rey wearing green and Ben wearing blue is my ideal configuration so it’s what I will always default to. They are simply the correct colors, sorry I DO make the rules

Of course this whole thing came about mostly because I wanted to give Ben a Leia hairstyle. OF COURSE. And the outfit is stolen from Bail—I previously made a photomanip of this but didn’t quite complete it (yet?? ehh. why bother at this point). Funnily enough in that manip I had turned Bail’s grey ROTS cloak blue for Ben, and then in the Obi-Wan show they did that same color swap and gave Bail an actual blue cloak. Curse my gift of prophecy

I played with giving Rey Ben’s exact same scar—which also looks rad—but because I overthink everything it seemed more fitting to make it a mirror image instead. Dyad things

The EU did already have a guy with Jason Todd hair, but setting that aside I’m still pretty attached to Kylo Red Hood parallels. And a while ago as I was thinking about the white streak again I realized it would make sense to extend it from where his scar is, symbolic of how death and resurrection would be experiences that stemmed from that initial injury. I’m not a huge fan of his scar being completely healed in canon because I’d rather things have permanent reminders instead of erasing them (which is generally a whole problem with TROS!!!), so I like the idea that it would change rather than disappear. Anyway the cost of resurrection is: looking extra cool 😔

Sci-fi women with shaved heads are very special to me, but specifically in the history of Star Wars I have a deep fondness for Natalie Portman’s buzz cut during the ROTS press. She looked so good, RIP bald Padme

Rey’s black cowl is modeled on Kylo’s TFA cowl, but I also imagined it as the good boy sweater. Either way, she’s wearing his clothes

I know Ben in the standard white shirt is pretty boring, but I needed a low collar to showcase his hair (ostensibly the point of this entire exercise!) and I liked pairing a white outfit for him with a black outfit for Rey, because reversals are the best part of their whole deal. Also: casual space Gandalf the White. Also also: I think I just ended up making him the transformed Beast from Beauty and the Beast. APPROPRIATE. It was kind of tough for me to settle on a look to go with the long hair because it was the Ben hairstyle that I thought worked best with every outfit.

Rey’s green wrap/robe is the most improvised clothing here, just aiming for something nice and green without getting overly fancy. I sort of vaguely pulled from the Chandrilan formalwear we saw on Andor, but I mean, the kimono wrap is a pretty standard Star Wars wardrobe staple regardless. The white mock neck undershirt is definitely inspired by Mon. So you can maybe say she’s dressed in Chandrilan clothes because it’s Ben’s homeworld, and he helped her with the braid because yes I subscribe to Ben hair braiding fanons, I’m so sorry, I’m in too deep!!!!!!!

Puffy jacket! Even more colorful!! To be honest I have throw pillows with these colors and I love them, but I was also thinking to give Ben a yellow accent as a nod to Rey’s lightsaber color. This is where it gets to a point that I could spend days switching out color combos, a dangerous game

This was way more time-consuming than I expected it to be, but that seems to be true of all art projects for me as I get older. Now I gotta try to sustain some productivity and move on to the next one of my billion WIPs. Being obsessed with a dead ship and character for which there is vanishingly little hope of ever getting new canon material is so much work

#star wars #rey #ben solo #reylo #my art

[maulthots]

Rots novelization:

:)

The bubble show in the movie is actually mon cal ballet. They're literally water bubbles. For dancing.

Sheev is pretty explicitly the apprentice to Darth plageuis the wise. And he's like, oh yeah, that mystery apprentice, whoever he may be, is the greatest sith lord ever and also still alive. Anakin is coming off even stupider rn than he did in the movie, which is really saying something. Love and light to my baby boy.

😵‍💫

Obi wan talking to padme:

The reason they didn't send Anakin with obi wan to get grievous is bc they were trying to draw out sidious and they needed anakin to stay on coruscant bc he's pure firepower except obviously they don't trust him enough to tell him that so he's a live wire about it. Fucking jokers. Fumbling the bag from start to finish.

What's so interesting to me is that sheev, prior to officially forming the empire, established his own governors on all the planets in the Republic, supported by clones, and this is covered in bad batch almost 20 years later and not before. Like, governor tarkin existed but I certainly didn't know how that came about. So interesting to meeee.

Mon mothma has short hair in this and also touched padme's hand. Worth pointing out for the andor hate squad (me). Hashtag not my mon mothma.

Get em

Padme is marinating the rebellion and she's like, there's one Jedi I can trust absolutely. And she is not talking about Anakin 🫠

Sheev was like, Anakin, why don't you go to the temple and meditate on it. So he did, at which point he concluded that Jedi training wouldn't do it for him, which is extra fun if you know that, lore-wise, the Jedi temple on coruscant is literally built on top of an ancient sith temple putting out rancid vibes. That boy is getting his brains scrambled in real time.

Literalllllyyyyy everything might have been all right, if only....

Saying this like it's a bad thing:

#cathy watches star wars #long post

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hi, Micheleamidalajedi. I hope you are having a fun and awesome day. Can I have a Star Wars 🌲-ship, please.

Features: I am a short woman 4'8 who has curly golden honey blond hair which goes to my bra-strap length, I have dark chocolate brown eyes, and a little bit of chubbiness in my cheeks. I have a butterfly-shaped scar on my forehead which is from skin cancer from when I was 5-6 years old.

Personality: I am a sweet, loving, stubborn, caring, and understanding woman but if you mess with me/hurt me, my family, friends, or the people I love I become scary-scary.

Like/love to do: I love to drawing/painting, embroidery, reading, cosplaying, doing any tipe of math, and baking in my free time.

I don't like/afraid/scared of: afraid of Spiders, don't like people insulting or making fun of family/Love ones/Friends, and I don't like being yelled at because it scares me from past traumas and anxiety.

Style: I love to wear, off-the-shoulder shirts, leggings, jeans, button-up shirts, and dresses.

The only other thing is that I wear a heart-shaped ruby necklace around my neck which was a gift from my whole family. I never take it off.

My lovely! I first ship you with Poe Dameron! ✨

He loved watching or looking at your drawings whether it was of a droid,an x-wing,or even him laughing with his eyes crinkled just a bit

No matter what you were wearing he always loves to see you in a soft flowing dress,a button up shirt with leggings,or an off the shoulder top with jeans he is always just a big puddle of jelly on the ground

He is always sitting next to or behind you when you bake food his mouth and eyes just watering even when your just rolling out dough or stuffing a pie with fruits or putting icing on top of a homemade cake

He likes tracing your scar on your forehead whenever he isn't gently kissing it making your heart grow and swell with love at the small act

Every time he looked and touched your hair he couldn't help but always have a small strand wrapped around or in between his fingers

He bought you a galaxy necklace to wear with your heart shaped ruby one that you had worn ever since you got it from your family as a gift

He loves how you truly care for others from the simplest of actions to the biggest and life changing choices

Your eyes were one of the favorite parts of your body not only because they showed emotions when you looked at someone but they flowed with pure love,care,and honesty when you looked at him

And finally I ship you with Ashoka Tano! 🧡

She always admired your big kind hearted personality always giving someone advice or helping with their injuries

She loved looking at your eyes because they made her feel safe and loved whenever you looked at her with a smile on your face

She could never get enough of seeing you in any clothing that enhanced your figure and complimented your body whether it was a blouse top with jeans,a tank top with shorts and sandals,or a beautiful dress that was one of your favorite colors

She loved seeing you draw in your notebook even modeling for you sometimes when you asked her to mostly with her smiling or laughing

She along with help from Padme made you a necklace out of different seashells and jewels from different planets so you can wear under your ruby heart necklace you always wore

She smiles every time you bake her eyes and mouth watering at the many delicious foods you make no matter what it was whether it was homemade bread,pies,and cookies to crepes,croissants,and cakes

Your hair reminded her of golden silk and would be curling a small strand around her finger or running her fingers through it all

#ashoka tano #star wars x reader #ashoka tano x reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #judgementdaysunshine's birthday celebration #judgementdaysunshine

[ooops-i-arted]

@auditect said: Is she the one you compared to Ahsoka (at least in an earlier incarnation)?

Nope! That would be my other Baby's First Jedi OC, Lia Skye. I'm not 100% sure which character I made first, but my earliest Derran stuff in my Jedi notebook is dated 2002 and there's no Lia til 2005, although I know I made her earlier because she was part of Baby's First Novel, which was my own version of Star Wars Episode III because I couldn't wait til it was released lol. Derran's fics were short ones inspired by the Jedi Apprentice series (though I also wrote those for Lia too).

Lia was like Ahsoka because:

Apprentice to an Important Canon Character (Obi-Wan, because 1. even at 12 I knew Anakin had no business being around kids 2. Obi-Wan was my favorite so I wanted to write my OC with him)

The Important Canon Character spends WAY more time worrying about the OC than his friend/brother of 10 years

In fact in my Star Wars Episode III Version Anakin's Dark Side turn takes place completely offscreen and way more time is spent on Lia and Obi-Wan helping Padme hide her twins lmao

Losing the OC is 10 times more devastating than anything in canon or the relationship with the friend/brother (Lia is Anakin's first Order 66 victim)

Lia was TOTALLY SPESHUL AND AWESOME and had multiple lightsaber colors and even her eye color changed at some point because of Force Bullshit I Made Up. Also she had the same hair color and similar eye color as me but that was toooootally a coincidence lol and so was her age being only a few years older than mine. In general even her appearance was Speshul and Yooneek

However even at 11-12 I put my Jedi OC in Jedi robes and not a tube top or cocktail dress looking thing (that one's on Lucas not Felony tho)

Lia was an AMAZING COMBATANT for her age and also had special awesome visions that no one took seriously but were Very Important. She was also able to fight characters that should have been way above her skill level (like Count Dooku and she puts up a good fight before Anakin killed her). After her death she appeared as a Force ghost too. Obi-Wan also kept her lightsaber To Remember Her By

Lia regularly broke the rules but was always Justified and Right in the end and the Council either let it slide or even agreed she was ultimately right (although I never villainized them in by writing, it was just Lia was Too Amazing For Them To Truly Understand. I was a teenager in full No One Understaaaaaands Me mode, what can I say.)

All my favorite Jedi liked her and thought she was cool (Felony has Plo Koon, I had Obi-Wan and Yoda and Aayla.)

To contrast, Derran's only real Speshul trait was having the same hair/eye color as me (toooootally a coincidence I convinced myself at that age), she was a more balanced, albeit amateur character.

That said writing Lia was a huge escape after dealing with school & peers' crap all day and I don't regret it. It was mental and emotional self-care and it was fun. I still have all that bad fic and I still love it; even if I don't consider it "good" anymore, it made me the writer I am today and there are still things I look at and I'm like, that's a good idea I can execute better now, or I really like that turn of phrasing, so on. It made me a better writer and Lia has a special place in my heart. Nowadays she exists as my Jedi Knight in SWTOR, Skye Lir.

Drawing of Lia Skye from 2005 & in-game screenshot of Skye Lir from 2016. And to bring it around full-circle, in SWTOR Skye was Derran's Padawan. :)

Writing overpowered maybe-a-self-insert OC is self-care. But if I'm paying money to a company owning a massive franchise, it's not unreasonable for me to expect better quality writing than a depressed anxious amateur preteen writer desperately suppressing her own queerness and filtering the asexuality she doesn't understand through Jedi fanfic lmao. Or to put it another way, if a friend just getting into baking makes me a cake, I will support her efforts regardless of the quality of the final result, but if I buy from a popular well-known bakery I'm gonna damn well expect a good cake.

#if you ever ask me about ocs i will never shut up lol #even lia who is a bit embarrassing. but i love her anyway. #replies #auditect #skye lir #derran kanis

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

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

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

#disaster lineage #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #jango fett #jaster mereel #time travel #mandalore #tatooine #de aging #babies #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

[sinfulskywalker]

I was wondering, what if Empress Padme was just as obsessive and overprotective of Luke as Vader is? Please, let mommy baby and infantalize her boy a little 🥺

Of course Daddy Vader can't have all the fun, if Mama Padme had existed she would for sure coddle her little boy. Let's delve into my personal hell, Anon and have fun. I'll incorporate a little bit of LLOM into the fic as well as some HCs that are not in any fic I've written.

TW: Infantilism, babying, excessive praising, spanking, NSFW (no sex)

Palpatine is somehow dead and the Skywalkers rule the fucking Galaxy, won't grant Anakin the rank of Master? Well, he's calling himself The Emperor and he doesn't look like a burnt, molded steak, yeah that glossy hair is here to stay and there's not one baby Skywalker, but two boom-bitches! (Obi-Wan feels a massive headache coming on)

But not all is well, Padme has gone into an early labor and it worries them both half to death. She's only eight months and it's too soon. Thankfully, the baby--no wait, BABIES!-are safe, but the youngest, a boy she names Luke, he's having troubles breathing and is coughing up mucus. It's terrified Padme as she holds her daughter close as if to protect her from a threat she cannot protect her son from.

Anakin stays by her side and doesn't sleep until he's sure Padme and Leia are sleeping. Even then, it's very light, if at all. It breaks his heart seeing his little boy in a chamber with tubes in his mouth and nose to help him breathe. The medical droid enters Padme's room to give the analysis. Luke will be fine, he's just weak and was under a lot of pressure during the birth. That still didn't stop the worried parents from holding their breaths (figuratively) until Luke was placed in Padme's arms next to his sister where he belonged.

Padme and Anakin smile with joy as their babies are finally reunited and the four of them can get some much needed sleep.

Years down the line, it's obvious who the stronger, more sneaky and crafted sibling is: Leia. She's headstrong, extroverted, social and a joy to have in any classroom. As for her brother, he's still hiding behind his mother's skirt even around close family. Padme and Anakin decide to homeschool Luke until he's emotionally ready for school, but they do encourage social activity and send him to school for half a day and pick him up during the afternoon.

Luke's shyness doesn't leave even during puberty. He's still very much a crier and he's so sensitive and emotional that Anakin has decided that while he will be in charge of training Leia AND Luke, that he will only teach Luke self defense. Luke is only to wield a weapon should his life be in danger and Padme agrees. Of course their little boy is a strong one, but he's too good for this world that would only want him dead.

As Leia goes on missions and training with their father, Luke stays home with Mama. He's very well cared for and loved in the ways he needs to be. A mother's intuition is never to be questioned or denied as she knows exactly how to nurture her little one.

Luke never quite got rid of his oral fixation. He went from suckling on dummies, blankets, his thumb and the occasional toy he was given. Sometimes he does it without noticing, Padme won't say anything unless she questions the cleanliness of the object in his mouth. Anything that will soothe her baby, she'll allow.

The poor boy suffers from nightmares a lot and often it ends up with wet pants and sheets. Padme draws him a bath and tenderly strokes his hair, assuring him it was just a nightmare, Mommy's here and no one will hurt him. No matter how much she calms Luke down and puts him in a plushy night pull up, Luke will still ask to sleep in the big bed with her and she'll never say no to her little boy.

Perhaps saying "no" was the wrong wording. There are times when Padme must put her foot down. "No, Luke. You will not drive a speeder, you're too young and inexperienced. I forbid it!" She's had this talk over and over with him. Luke was nineteen, sure, but if he wanted to go flying then he could wait for Anakin to come home and take him, not steal the family speeder and get caught. She's so livid with anger she's shaking and Anakin has to step in. Anakin has always been the disciplinary in the relationship. Padme can stick to his punishments but carrying out the spanking Luke received that night and every night for a week after would have been too much on her. Besides, she's needed to bring in tea and swaddle him as he apologizes to his mother for worrying her.

She packs him snacks for his "adventures" in the large garden out back and if he had his way, he'd stay outside until the sun went down. He still comes back telling her how he flew his X-Wing toy farther this time with the force and he can't wait to do it again when Daddy comes home so he can show off what he learned.

Sometimes Luke doesn't like being "Mama's little boy" in public. Especially when Padme insists he holds her hand to cross the street, in shopping areas and it gets worse when they're clothes shopping. Sure he doesn't mind shopping, but when Padme holds Every. Single. Outfit against his frame deciding whether she likes it or not it gets old and he gets fussy. He's tired, hungry and doesn't want to stand any longer. When he is given lunch, he'll eat it messily cause he's starving which only makes Padme lick her thumb and rub whatever food crumbs are on his cheek away.

Luke often has trouble studying, but when he make s a good mark his papers are displayed on the fridge and Anakin and PAdme ensure they tell their little boy how proud they are of him and how smart he is It makes him blush but he's smiling.

Luke will always be Padme's little baby boy. The little being that was ripped from her for medical reasons too early and when he gets sick she panics internally. Luckily, Luke is either asleep most of his ill days or so lucid, he's half asleep. He's a good boy and suckles the warm bottle of medicine laced milk his mother tips into his mouth while rocking him gently, not caring he's much too old for this. She'll be damned it anyone interrupts either. She wants her moment alone with her sick little baby and she will get it.

Dating is a no-no. After Leia broke Anakin's heart and ran off with a smuggler (he sat in a corner and weeped for weeks) the two were determined the same will not happen to Luke. Luke is a kind boy to everyone and Padme will not have him being taken advantage of. Usually she sends Anakin out for the hunt to scare them off, but she does have her death glare moments, like when Luke asked out a flaming red head named Mara Jade to dinner. She had the nerve to show up to the house in a dress that looked like pieces of strings ties together. So of course she chaperoned the two on their date and what's wrong with double dating with your parents? After all it was just dinner. Apparently Luke hadn't given it a second thought, but Mara knew what Padme was playing. Luke was heart broken when she didn't return his calls but it was Mommy to the rescue as she was his shoulder to try on.

"Don't worry my little one, some girls are just out to break hearts. But Mommy will love you forever."

#anonymous #anon ask #star wars #luke skywalker #padme x anakin #dad anakin #padme amidala #leia skywalker #skywalker family

[mqgriett]

Tech- Princess

Request: hello darling, i saw you were taking requests (it’s okay if you aren’t anymore, just disregard the rest of this) and I was wondering if you’d be able to write something for Tech? I’m absolutely starving for content surrounding him and I’d take literally any crumb you’d be willing to spare🥺 prompt/genre is totally up to you! @bandaid-bunny

Pairings: Tech x Fem!Reader

Warnings: small mention of death (very very minor, like a sentence)

Summary: you left the Jedi Order a year ago, which meant also leaving the Bad Batch. Tech’s feelings for you never faded, and neither did yours for him.

Notes: I really want to write a part 2 to this!! Please lmk if y’all would want a second part!! 

Tech adjusted his tie for the fifth time, looking at himself in the reflection of the silver elevator. He licked his hand, smoothing back any stray hairs on top of his head. 

“Nervous much?” Hunter muttered next to his brother. 

Tech shook his head, “of course not. Why would I be?”

“Because this is the first time you’re seeing her in a whole year.” Crosshair replied, a smug smile on his face as he crossed his hands over his lap. 

“And why would that make me nervous?” Tech scoffed, rolling his eyes and straightening the cuffs of his suit. The collar of his dress shirt felt increasingly tight and he pulled on, further giving his brother more of a reason to tease him. 

“Last time you saw her you couldn’t talk right!” Wrecker slapped him on the back, making Tech choke on his own spit. 

“That-”, cough, “is-”, another cough, “not true.” He finally caught his breath and repeated his sentence a little clearer. “That isn’t true.” 

“Really?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow and turned to Hunter, who was giving Tech the same look. 

Sarg intertwined his fingers, bringing his fist to the side of his face and making his voice a few octaves higher to mock Tech, “You look especially beautiful in the night time, it hides all of your imperfections. No- it highlights your imperfections. No- you have no imperfections in the night time. No- you’re perfect” 

Tech crossed his arms, his cheeks glowing a shade of bright red as Hunter reenacted the scene from a year ago.

“We’re here for a surveillance operation, that’s all.” he swallowed the ball in his throat, “I might not even get the opportunity to speak with her, so I have no reason to be nervous.” 

The quiet ding of the elevator reaching the top floor was his saving grace. Tech was the first one off and he automatically began to scan the crowded room for any sign of you. As Wrecker walked behind his brother he whispered, “surveillance operation.” He nodded and followed the rest of the Bad Batch, eyes still searching for any sign of you. 

“Sarg, good to see you.” said Cody’s strong tone of voice, catching Tech’s attention again. 

“Same to you, Commander.” Hunter replied, giving the 212th trooper a strong handshake. Cody pointed out that the Bad Batch and 212th were allowed to have fun that night, and that they were only to interfere with anything if it was a threat to the princess’s life. He pointed to the other troopers that had accompanied him that night. The majority of the 212th attack battalion dotted the ball room. 

There was no sign of you after roughly twenty minutes, allowing Tech to ease up a little bit. Crosshair returned from the bar, standing next to his brother and handing him a medium sized glass with a small amount of black liquid. Although he wasn’t much of a drinker, Tech downed the shot within seconds of having it in his grasp. 

***

“Nervous much?” Padme asked, watching from the corner of your room as you adjusted the front of your corset for the fifth time. 

You ignored her snarky comment, continuing to speak your thoughts out loud, “Out of all the squadrons he could have asked, of course he chooses 99.” 

“You’re going to smudge your makeup if you keep pacing and sweating like that.” she replied, walking to your side. “And, who knows? Maybe he’s not here.” 

“Hunt- The Sergeant, doesn’t go anywhere without him. He’s here.” you answered, taking a loud breath in to calm yourself. “It’s been at least a year. Last time I saw him I was allowed to go on missions and hold a weapon that’s bigger than my palm.” 

You reached behind yourself and started to undo the corset, “Now I need to go and sit in meetings, sit like a lady, smile and nod, and be pretty. That’s all… Could you re-tie this for me? The seamstress made it so I couldn’t breathe.” You motioned to the strings of the corset. 

“How about you wear that blue dress, you liked that one.” Padme suggested, trying her best to get you into a better mood. 

You sighed, “alright.” 

As you walked back to your closet, Padme spoke behind you, “if you look on the bright side, attachments are no longer forbidden for you.” 

It genuinely made both of you laugh, lifting your spirits a little as you unhooked the blue dress from its hanger. “maybe embrace that he’s here. You no longer need to follow the code, make the best of it.” 

She was right, the Jedi code no longer applied to you. 

About a year ago, when your sister had passed, it left you to take the throne of Alderaan as Princess. Your father, Bail Organa, was a senator and your mother, Breha Organa, was Queen. Someone needed to help her govern the planet, which led to you leaving the Jedi order and fulfill your duties as the only living legacy of your parents. 

It was a difficult decision to make, and tonight would lock it in. The majority of Senators were here, including a few other monarchs. Last time you had seen the bulk of them you were still a Jedi Knight, now you were Princess of Alderaan. 

This party was risky to throw, but it had already been postponed many times before. There was a small window to celebrate the new princess, which is no-doubt why the Bad Batch was called in. Majority of the troopers were on missions, and if the party was to be short on guards then it needed the strongest battalion available, Clone Force 99.

It was already twenty minutes into the celebration, and you had five minutes prepare to see them again. Last time you five were together it was a special operations mission, you were a Jedi and they were your designated clone battalion. Now you were tasked with pretending to be someone else, a princess. 

You tugged your dress on and allowed Padme to lace the back up, it was time. 

***

A loud sound of trumpets echoed through the room, quickly drawing everyone’s attention. The lights dimmed everywhere except the grand balcony with a staircase leading down to the main floor. 

Tech followed the voice of the announcer, who seemed to be invisible among the huge crowd. “It is with great pleasure that I welcome the Queen and the new Princess of Alderaan.” he said obstreperously. 

Queen Breha walked with grace down the steps, waving as she descended. 

Next came the princess, her gold-accented, sleek, pastel blue dress shining in the light beautiful. Tech’s heart raced as he saw you, his glass slipping from his grip. He had nearly forgotten how beautiful you were, and the way you quickly walked down each stair nearly made him faint. The expensive glassware would have broken if it weren’t for Hunter’s quick reflexes. 

The only other time he had witnessed the sight of you in a dress was during an undercover op, other than that you were frequently in your robes. Maker, you were breathtaking in that gown. He was going mad and you were still across the room. 

You turned over your shoulder, automatically scanning the crowd for any signs of the Bad Batch. It seemed that every free moment you had was interrupted by a Senator or distant relative congratulating you on your new status. So, you smiled and made small talk, a tiny headache beginning to creep up on you. 

As you thanked Senator Clovis for coming, a strong hand touched the small of your back. “Need a break?” Hunter asked behind you. 

In that moment you could have cried at the sound of his voice. You were so overwhelmed and tired, wanting to collapse every time you needed to start a new conversation with someone. As you turned, you straightened your back, “Sergeant.” You gave him a curt nod, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

Hunter raised his eyebrow, waiting a moment before hooking his arm within your own. “Since when do you call me Sergeant?” he mused, beginning to lead you over to the edge of the ballroom. 

You were well out of earshot of anyone important now, and your whole demeanor changed. You let out a breath of air and slouched, letting your legs rest a shoulder-width apart. “You have no clue how happy I am to see you.” 

“Right back at you Command- Princess.” he said, letting go of your arm. 

“Don’t call me that, for maker’s sake.” you pleaded, your tone genuinely sad. 

He smirked, “not your thing, huh?” 

You shook your head, “where’s the rest of the boys?” 

“Wrecker spilled that Corellian wine on his shirt, Tech and Cross are helping him get cleaned off.” he responded with a shrug, as if it was a regular thing; on that thought, it was. 

Your heart fluttered, “Tech’s here?” 

Hunter chuckled deeply, combing his hair back, “he is. Why?” 

You pursed your lips while narrowing your eyes, “just curious.” 

Before Sarg could tease you any further, the large gold door to the men’s bathroom opened and the other three Bad Batchers stumbled back inside the room. You instinctively looked over your shoulder, your gaze catching Tech’s. 

You both froze, trapped in each other's presence. He smiled, eyes sparkling in the faint light of the ballroom. 

The group of three made their way to Hunter and you, Wrecker with a huge grin on his face. 

Crosshair performed a dramatic bow, “m’lady.” he slid his hands into his pockets, a smug smirk on his face as he greeted you. 

“I hate you,” You teased, shaking your head the smallest bit to show you disapproval.  

“Hi Princess.” Wrecker didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug, but he soon let go once realizing that he was possibly transferring the wine stain onto your dress. 

Tech wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered, “you look nice.” 

You rested your chin on his shoulder, “back at you.” 

Crosshair interjected, “you got something on your dress.” he twirled his long finger towards your abdomen. 

Wrecker had accidentally transferred some wine on your gown. You frowned, knowing that you now had to change dresses. “Kriff,” you mumbled, secretly slightly relieved that you got to leave for a few minutes, “I’ll be back. If anyone asks, just say I’m touching up my makeup.” 

As you took a step forward, Padme’s words seemed to echo in your mind. Maybe embrace that he’s here. You no longer need to follow the code, make the best of it.

You smiled, “Tech would you mind coming along? I’m not supposed to leave the room without another person.” 

He looked slightly surprised at your offer, but after tripping over a few words he nodded and followed. 

Tech took a deep breath once you two were alone, clenching and relaxing his fists to ease a bit of his nerves, “I missed you, we all did. Missions aren’t as fun without you.” 

You grinned, “I missed you too. Everything goes by slower nowadays.” 

“You don’t enjoy your new life?” He asked, eyebrows creasing to form a concerned expression. He looked around at all the gold accented treasures hidden among the castle. 

“There’s no excitement. Every day is just a repeat of the last.” The elevator doors opened and you both stepped inside. 

They slid shut, officially making it just the two of you. “Do you miss the Order?” 

You shook your head, “Not as much as I thought I would, but I miss the adventures. I miss you.” you said the last piece quietly, hoping he didn’t hear. 

But since it was Tech, and he was the most attentive person you knew, he heard. He turned to look at you, making deep eye contact, “I miss you too. Co-piloting with Crosshair isn’t as fun as it was with you. I’m not as good at calming Wrecker down as you were.” 

You arrived at your floor, the doors opening again and both of you walking out. There was an awkward silence surrounding the two of you now, both wanting to say the same thing. 

As you stepped foot in your room, the energy shifted a little. You motioned for Tech to make himself comfortable and made your way to the closet. 

He sat at the foot of your huge bed, admiring how well-decorated it was. He turned to look at the wall his back faced, eyes wandering to your nightstand. In the middle stood a framed photograph. It was a picture that Wrecker had taken after a rough mission. You and Tech were both asleep, your head on his lap and his hand draped over your waist. He sighed and called out to you, “You know I’ve always loved you, right?” 

You froze, barely finishing at pulling the peach-colored dress over your head when his voice reached your ears. By the time you had turned around, Tech was standing in the doorway of your closet. 

No more Jedi Code. 

You walked to him, placing a gentle hand against his cheek and kissing him. He grabbed your hand and held it, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. He had waited too long for this to end quickly, and you felt the same. 

#tech x reader #badbatchxreader #clone trooper tech #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper wrecker #bad batch #clone force 99

[rentsturner]

Jealous | Obi Wan Kenobi

req: Congrats on 300, Liv!!!!! I'm so proud of you! May I request 16 with Obi? 16 - claiming you

wc: 1.7k

warnings: modern!au, creepy behaviour from a side character, hint of self deprecating thoughts, obi being a little possessive and jealous but in a hot way. Fluff at the end.

a/n: this started as a blurb but it got too long . Thank you Brit for helping me with this idea. Sorry it’s taken so long.

The bar was packed, the chatter and bustle of a Saturday night almost drowning out the thumping beat of music playing from large speakers. You and Obi-Wan had been invited out for a friend’s engagement celebration, expecting to find a small gathering when you got there but instead being faced with an enormous party in full flow. But you’d taken it in your stride, catching up with all your friends, exchanging stories and jokes, and soon time was flying by.

Obi-Wan was engrossed in a game of pool with Anakin, leaving you to fend for yourself for a while. It was fine of course, you were perfectly comfortable with your friends, and you knew how often he missed out on spending time with his own mates. So you had taken yourself over to the bar to get another Diet Coke, sliding onto the stool and grabbing the server’s attention.

A rustle of clothing alerts you to another man’s presence at your side, a clipped voice straining to be heard through the bar’s non-stop noise.

‘I’ll have what they’re having.’

You had hoped to be left alone while picking up your drink, but you could feel this man's gaze burning into the side of your head. With a silent huff of indignation, you turn towards the newcomer and you’re faced with brown eyes, dark buzzed hair with a few nicks at his temple, clean shaven angular jaw and cheekbones, and a wide grin.

‘Hey, how have you been? You remember me, right?’

The man continues grinning, arms opening outwards and he turns his body towards you. No. You don’t remember him. You stare at his face a little harder, wracking your brain for a name. After a few seconds, you recognise the man as one of Padme’s friends. Michael? Matthew, maybe?

‘I’m Mitchell? Mitchell Connor?’

Mitchell looks at you with wide eyes, seemingly upset that you’d forgotten him. You nod quickly, not wanting to cause a fuss.

‘Of course, Mitchell, hi.’

You offer a small smile and he takes it gratefully, offering to buy you another drink and making conversation. He asks you about your life, your job, your family, even your opinion on politics. He barely gives you time to breathe with his onslaught of questions. But you answer dutifully, Mitchell seems friendly enough. Even if he is weirdly interested in your taste in men.

Thirty minutes later and Mitchell is still talking to you. You had left the bar a while ago and wandered over to Mace and Padme, talking to them in an attempt to throw off Mitchell. But it hadn't worked. He’d just tagged along and slotted himself into the conversation, standing next to you and inching ever so slightly closer as the minutes passed by.

Padme gave you a confused look from across the small circle, gesturing to Mitchell with a questioning gaze. Her brows furrowed in concern. She was your best friend, after all, and she could tell Mitchell was getting on your nerves.

‘Where’s Obi?’ she mouthed silently at you.

You just shrugged and looked away, not wanting to draw Mitchell’s attention to you even more. He was getting uncomfortably close now. You shuffled to the side a little, but he just followed you. You could see his arm in the corner of your eye, twitching slightly by his side as if he was tempted to take your hand in his. The idea of it made you shiver, and not in a good way.

Where was Obi-Wan? Surely his game of pool had finished by now. You looked around, trying to find that familiar head of auburn hair but the room was so packed in some places it was hard to tell where one person ended and another began. An unbridled thought rushed through your head. What if Obi had seen someone else at the party? Someone better looking than you, more interesting? What if -

A strong arm suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into a lean muscled chest. You jumped slightly, squirming out of the grip as you thought it was Mitchell pulling you closer. But instead a soft, welcome voice whispered into your ear.

‘Are you alright, darling? You seem a little nervous.’

A sigh of relief left your chest and you turned to look at Obi’s familiar face, his eyes bright with concern and his hair hanging slightly out of place. The pool game must have gotten competitive. You just squeeze his forearm tightly in reassurance and whisper an affirmation.

‘I’m fine.’

A small smile. You don’t want Obi to worry, not when he’s obviously been having a good time.

‘And who’s this then?’

Mitchell’s voice is too loud, too intrusive, even though it’s paired with that wide grin. A fake grin, you’re sure of it. Obi-Wan’s arm tightens around your waist and he seems to draw himself up to his full height, obviously confused to why this man is so comfortable with getting close to you. You can feel his heart begin to thud violently against your back. Obi-Wan had never seemed like the jealous type to you, but apparently you had assumed wrong. Maybe he’s realised that this overbearing stranger is the source of your concern. But Obi stays silent and just watches Mitchell as they both wait for you to answer.

‘Obi-Wan, this is Mitchell. Mitchell, Obi-Wan. My boyfriend.’

You emphasise the ‘boyfriend’ as much as you can without making it too obnoxious, hoping that Mitchell gets the idea. He doesn’t, of course.

‘Well, we were just talking about ideal partners actually. It seems me and y/n have got a lot in common.’ Mitchell smirks.

Your jaw drops. Did he seriously just say that? You absolutely have nothing in common. You grit your teeth in frustration. What an idiot.

You can practically feel the hostility rolling off Obi-Wan as he takes in Mitchell’s words. His other arm comes to wrap round your waist, pulling you into him even tighter. Obi’s jaw clenches as he looks Mitchell up and down with furrowed brows, before slowly turning to you.

‘Don’t you think it's time that we were leaving, love?’

Obi’s voice is raised slightly, making sure Mitchell can hear him. He kisses your cheek softly, tilting his head so that his stubble nuzzles against your skin as he stares sternly at Mitchell, who has decided to speak again.

‘You don’t want to stay longer? We were having fun -’

Mitchell stops suddenly as he watches your boyfriend’s attention turn to your ear. Obi-Wan’s actions are slow and deliberate as he kisses the lobe, moving up the edge and letting his bottom lip drag obscenely over the skin, eliciting a shiver that runs up your spine. You have to stifle the moan threatening to leave your mouth. Obi-Wan nips the cartilage at the top of your ear, his tongue darting out to sooth the bite before finally pulling back. He stares Mitchell dead in the eye with a devilish smirk, almost daring him to continue talking, daring him to make his move. But for the first time in the whole night, Mitchell’s mouth closes and no more words come out.

‘We’re perfectly fine thank you.’ Obi’s voice is a purr in your ear, seemingly friendly, but the notes are dripping with an unspoken threat towards Mitchell. ‘Aren’t we, darling?’

You turn, kissing Obi’s stubbled cheek happily and taking in Mitchell’s equally shocked and annoyed expression with a burst of satisfaction. You’d never seen this side to Obi-Wan before, usually such a gentleman, but tonight his possessive side was coming out. And you were loving it.

‘Yes. Let’s go.’

You push past Mitchell as he stumbles back, seemingly lost for words after Obi-Wan’s display. Quickly, you offer your goodbyes to all your friends, promising to speak soon. And then Obi is leading you out into the fresh air, the claustrophobic atmosphere of the bar left behind as you step into the cool car park. Obi chuckles, swinging your hands up and down as you walk.

‘He seemed to like you. A little too much’

‘Tell me about it!’

You were glad that Obi had calmed down a little now, all too aware of how tense he had been only minutes ago. But there are subtle signs; the clutch on your hand that was just slightly tighter than usual, the shaky exhale of breath steaming in the cold air, the slightly wild look to his usually composed countenance. They were all signs that remnants of adrenaline were still rushing through Obi-Wan’s veins. He’d never say it out loud, but you knew that Obi still got insecure about your relationship sometimes, the fear of losing you for good always present in his mind. Sometimes he just needed a bit of reassurance.

You cup his face in your hands, tugging him down slightly so you’re face to face. His eyes are deep pools of blue, staring into yours, just tempting you to dive into their depths. So you dive.

‘You know I love you, right?’

Obi-Wan’s cheeks flush a light pink, a grin spreading across his face as he moves his hands to mirror yours. His hands are cold against your skin but you shiver into his touch, craving more contact, more of him. He rubs his thumb over your cheekbone before leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your forehead.

‘And i love you too, my darling.’

An idea pops into your mind and you grin widely in excitement.

‘Movie night?’

You look up at Obi-Wan with the wide eyes that he can never resist. Not that he would want to say no anyway. Obi’s love of cheesy rom-com is notorious among your group of friends, and you had spent many evenings cuddled under a mountain of blankets and pillows, crunching on salty popcorn and giggling through all of your favourite films. He’s a true romantic at heart.

Strong hands pull you into a warm hug and you can feel Obi-Wan’s deep laugh vibrating in his chest as you rest your head there, his woollen jumper soft against your cheek. It’s warm and it’s comfy and it smells of him.

‘Of course. It’s been a while since I watched 10 Things I Hate About You anyway.’

~*~*~*~

obi tags : @ohhellokenobi @doublesunsets @snips-n-skyguy0501 @karasong @callmearwen @thedevilwearsbeskar @rosionis @profkenobi @stardancerluv @goldenkenobi @fenharel-enaste @corellians-only @weirdfangirl2416 @a-seeker-of-imagination @saintlaurentkenobi @justanotherpadawan @hawkerz12 @crazycatladyjenga @xxinvisiblexx @million-dollar-legs @imafatassmess @i-am-i-am-obiwankenobi @letmybabysleep @thejunkster @fishswimbetterunderwater @katsav17 @haydens-moles (Taglist link in bio)

#my writing #livs 300 follower celebration #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan blurb #obi wan headcanons #obi wan kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #star wars #ewan mcgregor x reader

[ladykatakuri]

Our Dance

Tech x F Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2175

Lyrics used from the song All about us performed by He is We

Summary:“I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

Here it is, the Tech fic i was working on. Somehow i had several songs that inspired story idea`s and ofcourse it is with the guys from the Batch and yes i also have something in mind for Omega. Hope you like it and comments / tips are always more then welcome here <3

It was one of those evenings, once more. A senator had decided that it was time for an early celebration of, well something important on his home world and of course that meant guests, a lot of food and drinks, caterers and guards. Normally not a big problem, any time that you were invited to a party by a good friend you would happily accept and you did, but this evening turned out to be a huge annoyance to you and a strain on your self restraint.

During your time serving food and having nice conversations with people from all layers of society you came to be very fond of the clones you met. The Coruscant Guard became steady customers of the shop where you served caf and breakfast most times and all the others were a steady stream of visitors at 79`s, the bar where you would have evening and night shifts, waiting on tables and just having a good time with your new found friends. But this party? You would be happy to leave and if you could leave after giving some of the politicians there a piece of your mind then all the better!

It began with the senator of Scipio and delegate of the Banking Clan, Rush Clovis, mentioning to another senator he did not see why there should be any consideration for the clones. Their conversation was caught by you as you walked by on your way back to your friend who had invited you in the first place, Padme Amidala, but it was more than enough for you to already hate the man. Unfortunately it was not an uncommon feeling among people with a seat in the senate to think of the clones as nothing more but meat for the grinder. They were created on Kamino to fight in the war effort, and when they died? Well there were more where they came from.

With a slight tremble you move forward, handing out the drink to a friend you found among the guests and had a nice conversation with. In the meantime you knew that several clones were there by special invitation. The senator that was hosting this party wanted to display his power and thought it would be fun to have some of those clones around to have fun with. In this case that fun meant that the guests who wanted to, could either talk to the clones or even dance with them. They were no more than props on display for most of the people there and you hated every second of it. Especially when you realised one of your favorite groups of men were also there. You were about ready to leave the party and grab some sleep when you saw that special group of men, especially one very special, tall, goggled man who had been haunting your daydreams from time to time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Tech heard that they were ordered to attend a party he was seriously confused. “They do realise we are considered to be defective clones? Not many senators or other high placed figures would want us around them on purpose.” Rubbing his head he looks at his sargeant and leader, Hunter.

With a deep sigh, Hunter looked at his brother. “Yes Tech, they know. I believe that is exactly why they want us to attend this thing. I suppose there is some ulterior motive to it, but we have to follow this order in any case. So, suit up and be on your best behavior.” The last sentence has the sarge glance at the two most troublesome of his brothers, Wrecker and Crosshair. They were the least likely to really behave, but that was a concern for later.

Tech felt uncomfortable in his black suit, but orders were orders in this case and at least Senator Amidala had been kind enough to start a conversation with him and Echo. Both were surprised at her kindness and how she was genuinely interested in their feelings about the war. Echo had stopped him from rambling about the war too much by pointing out the one person he knew would draw more attention than anyone else in the room.

Take my hand, I'll teach you to dance

I'll spin you around, won't let you fall down

Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet

Give it a try, it'll be alright

For a moment it seemed as if there was only one person in the entire room, and that person was you. Tech looked in the direction Echo pointed at and there you were, walking around greeting and conversing with some of the guests in the room and looking picture perfect while doing so. A string of hair escaped your ponytail and the annoyed glance aimed at one of the senators only made you seem more beautiful. Looking at the senator that seemed to have annoyed you so much, he immediately understood why you seemed ready to hit the man with your fist. Senator Clovis was known to be ruthless when it came to clones and clone rights. When asked, he would always say the exact same thing, “Clones are mere tools in the warmachine. A cog perhaps. They are easily replaced and so, we have no need to mourn the loss of any of them. I see no reason why we would even have to spend any credits on the recovery of the wounded.”

A small grin formed on his lips as he watched you stalk away from the man and move to stand somewhere calm and quiet. Senator Amidala, still in conversation with Echo noticed the slight change in attitude as his eyes followed you around the room. “If you pardon my intrusion, Tech is it?” Her hand taps his arm as she turns to speak to him.

Tech looks at the senator as he answers. “It is indeed, senator. How may I help you?”

Amidala looks at the man currently shifting attention between her and the woman he keeps an eye on as she moves around the room. “I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

You know that the man currently speaking to you as if you are just another nobody, who is lucky enough to have been invited to work the celebration taking place is also the same man who not only is a senator, but also well known for demanding personal time with all female personnel and even demanded coruscant guards to remove some women he has used when they became too much of a bother to him afterwards. This time he seems to have set his eyes on you and you are just not having it. “Senator, I must return to my friend now. I apologize for cutting this wonderful conversation short, but if I do not at least spend some time with Senator Amidala this evening, I would be a poor and ungrateful friend.” Though you smile it is obvious even to the senator you only mean the polite refusal to continue the conversation, as much as you refused to dance with him.

“I know you're nothing important in the senate, just a person that Amidala befriended from the lower regions of this planet. You will dance with me, because any offer such as this from the likes of me is an honor and then we will continue our conversation in private.” Just when he reaches for your hand to drag you back, your hand is taken by another man.

As fast as he managed to take your hand before the senator, Tech took the drink from your hand and gave it to another waiter nearby. His arm is already snaked around your waist as he turns you around and walks you to the middle of the room. “I believe you agreed to give me the first dance once you finished your round in the room Y/N. I noticed you were on your way back , so I suggest we make the best of it.

Surprise and gratitude quickly appear and leave your eyes as you smile at the man guiding you away. “Thank you Tech. I almost lost track of time.” The blush on your cheeks as you feel him turn you around to face him brightens when you take him in once more. He looks absolutely dashing in his black suit and light blue dress shirt.

The room's hush hush and now's our moment

Take it in, feel it all and hold it

Eyes on you, eyes on me

We're doing this right

The orchestra plays a slow song as Tech gently moves the two of you around the room. Despite his tall figure and the appearance of a soldier most times, he is absolutely graceful as he leads you in your dance. His hand, warm on the small of your back presses you closer to him while he softly squeezes the hand he holds. Leaning in closer to you his lips almost brush your ears as he whispers. “It seems you needed a rescue. Though from the look you gave that senator, it is highly probable I actually rescued him.” His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he straightens out and swirls you around. “I shall thank Senator Amidala for warning me in time.”

Amidala, your friend. A senator who usually makes her way through all the layers of society and who does her best to help all people. She even spoke to you about clone rights and how to see to it that they would be treated more decently, after she found out that you were one of the people who were strong advocates for clone rights. Soon after that, the two of you struck up a friendship based on mutual respect. She invited you to this evening because of your shared passion for the rights of clones and your contact with many of these men. She felt it might make them feel at ease, seeing a friendly face in the crowd.

Grinning you look up into the brown, bespectacled eyes of your hero of the evening. “I will thank her for sending me a hero.”

The music stops and you are ready to step away from Tech so that he can walk back to his brothers. Tech however is not moving an inch and he is not letting go of your hand. Pulling you back in at the same moment another song is started, Tech gently guides you in another dance.

“You know, people will stare at us. They might even start to talk about us.” A gentle blush on your cheeks, you whisper to him.

'Cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love

Spotlight's shining

It's all about us

It's oh, oh, all

About uh, uh, us

And every heart in the room will melt

This is a feeling you never felt dry

It's oh, oh, all about us

Tech has always been kind to you from the moment you met. His brothers, all with their own sense of humor and fun way of flirting quickly became good friends of yours. Tech as well, though you also developed a crush on him rather fast. His fast knowledge of pretty much everything and witty remarks only served to make you fall harder for the man. And now here you were in his arms, dancing to beautiful music, still a little insecure on whether or not you should let him know how you feel.

Without paying any attention to the room, Tech moves the two of you a bit more to the edges of the room. No longer swirling around with all the other couples on the floor, the two of you softly sway on the sidelines. Still in a warm embrace of his arm around you and his hand softly holding yours, he looks down at you and smiles. “People always find reasons to talk about others. It is in their nature to try and find common ground so as to divert attention from themselves at such events.”

You sigh softly and move the hand that was resting on his shoulder all this time to his face. Carefully brushing his cheek. “You could just tell me to let them watch you know?”

A chuckle escapes him as he leans in to you and his lips brush yours. “It's all about us anyway.

When he moves back, he pulls you in closer against him, your head against his chest, his arms around you as you keep swaying to the music. Nobody else in the room exists at that moment, but the two of you.

“All about us.” you whisper, a promise for the rest of the evening and all the days still to come.

@loth-wolffe @catbustours @reluctant-mandalore @nahoney22 @hellothere-generalangsty @allamarisss

#tech x you #tech x reader #The Bad Batch #Tech is a lovable sweetheart #He is We lyrics used for the fic #Our Dance

[boonki]

Ooh!!! "No more today, you’re at your limit.” ? ❣❣

Hi anon!! Thank you so much for sending this prompt in, I had so much fun writing it (also thank you for waiting, I’ve been a little slow with writing lately) 

do we want 3.2k of obikin in the bath? idk but i wrote it! (also do the apartments in the jedi temple even have baths? idk. in this story they do LMAO)

as always, i write at 3 am, so if there are any mistakes, please.. just dont look at them

enjoy!! 💖

____

Obi-wan throws a side kick that lands square in Anakin’s stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. He rolls over a shoulder, ready for the next attack. He blocks a fist to the face, and counters with a punch to Obi-wan’s stomach, which is easily batted to the side. 

They’ve been going at it for hours, lightsabers tossed to the side in favor of hand-to-hand combat. Their robes lay messily off to the side of the training room, discarded hours ago as the room sweltered in the summer heat, the pair left only in their pants rolled up at the ankles. Anakin can see Obi-wan faltering, making easy mistakes that cost him light bruises; he must be incredibly tired, just having returned lightly injured from a mission to the Outer Rim. Anakin would so much rather see Obi-wan resting and curled up over a cup of tea, or taking a nap on Anakin’s chest so he can pet his hair down and hold him. But Obi-wan had wanted to spar, and Anakin would never say no to that. 

Anakin sees the opportunity and tackles Obi-wan to the ground, straddling his bare stomach and pinning his arms above his head. Obi-wan bucks his hips to roll Anakin over, but Anakin had been prepared for that, digging his knees into the mat to keep grounded. Both of their chests are heaving, and a droplet of sweat drips off of Anakin’s chin and onto Obi-wan’s neck. 

“I think we should call it quits for today, old man.” Anakin releases his grip on Obi-wan’s wrists and perches back on his heels, looking down at him. 

Obi-wan smirks. “And stop while you’re ahead? No, let’s go again.” He makes to get up, pushing his elbows into the mat, but Anakin stops him with a hand to his chest. 

“I’m serious. No more today, you’re at your limit. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Anakin’s tone is serious as he can be, his eyebrows raised, features stern. 

Obi-wan falls back to the ground, closing his eyes as he catches his breath. “As far as I was aware, it’s you hurting me, but point taken, love. You win.” 

Anakin leans down and pecks a kiss to his cheek, tasting salt, and stretches his lips in a wide smile. “I’ll grab us dinner from Dex’s and I’ll meet you back in our quarters, okay?” He shifts his weight to the side so he can slide off of Obi-wan, wincing at the ache in his already sore muscles. “And go shower? You need one.” 

Obi-wan shoots him a wry look. “What, you don’t like the smell of sweat? I can’t, anyhow, I have to go report to the council first.” 

“Do you want your usual?” Anakin ignores his sarcasm and hops to his feet, making his way towards their forgotten robes, wishing he had remembered to bring a towel with him. 

“Of course, darling.” Obi-wan answers from the floor, still lying on his back with his arms stretched out above his head. 

Anakin dons his robes loosely, grabbing his ‘saber from the floor, and takes in the sight: Obi-wan is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, making him glow, and his hair is pushed back, giving him an oddly attractive tousled look. Anakin’s dick twitches in his pants, wanting to do nothing more than take him apart right then and there. But the desire to get some food in Obi-wan and see him rest and relax overwhelms the sexual urge. There will be time for that later on, no doubt. 

He makes his way back to Obi-wan in easy, long strides and squats down, kissing him sideways, holding his sweaty head in between his palms. “I’m serious, you stink. The council can wait. Go shower.” 

Obi-wan snorts. “No, they really can’t. Tell Dex I said hello.” 

____

Anakin shuffles through Padme’s favorite body shop, where she used to drag him when they had briefly dated years prior. He never would’ve admitted it to her, but he relished the fancy baths she had created for them, and had returned to the shop alone innumerable times since they politely ended things. His body always thanked him after a hot soak. 

With how tired Obi-wan seemed when he had come back from his mission and padded into their quarters earlier, and how sore he must be after today’s intense practice, Anakin wants to do something special for him. Besides, they’ve barely been able to spend time together because of the war, and Anakin misses it just being the two of them. He hopes the bath won’t be too much for Obi-wan, but he knows the man has a soft spot for fancy things under that rigid exterior. 

The shop is crammed and dense, with low ceilings littered with dried flowers hanging upside down, casting a faint rose hue over the entire place. Soaps in muted colors, wrapped in bright shades of paper line the walls, leading down to the wooden tables that hold syrupy oils and linen bags of flowers and herbs. Coarse soaps and lotions in clear tubs sit in wire baskets underneath the tables. The whole room smells like a meadow in bloom, and Anakin eyes the candles burning in the corners of the room in consideration. 

Thankfully, he’s the only one in the shop currently, so he can take his time picking the right products. He pops the cork out of a bottle of bath oil and takes a whiff: light, and flowery, with a faint hint of jasmine. Throwing it in his cart, he adds some cream soap, and, hesitating a little, a bag of assorted flower petals to hover on the surface of the water. He already has floating candle lights for the bath at home. 

“Are you all set?” Sasha, the elegant female Twi’lek that owns the shop, leans against the register, eyeing him fondly. She used to tease him all the time about coming here alone, but they’ve moved past that, into a tentative friendship. 

“Yeah.” He slides his basket onto the counter between them. 

She eyes his items, cocking an eyebrow. “Is this for someone special?” 

He can feel the blood rushing into his cheeks and ears, but doesn’t want to admit it one way or the other. “Maybe.” 

She barks out a laugh at his bashfulness. “Lucky person, whoever it is.” 

“Uh.” He doesn’t really know how to answer that. “Thanks?” 

Her smile is playful, like he’s a child that just said something particularly cute. With the efficiency of someone who’s been doing it for years, she rings out the total and wraps all the items up in a paper satchel, sliding it back across the counter at him. 

“That’s going to be 83 credits.” 

He really hopes the council doesn’t look into his expenses, he wouldn’t know what to tell them. 

____

The door to their quarters swings open cautiously and Anakin peeps inside, worried that he took too long. After popping by the body shop, he swung by Dex’s as promised, and Dex had wanted to catch up, and rightfully so; it had been too long. Anakin had shifted from foot to foot the entire time though, anxious about getting home to draw the bath before Obi-wan returned from meeting with the council. But Dex is a viable source of information, a fantastic cook, and most importantly, a long time and loyal friend, so Anakin had plastered a good natured grin on his face and quieted the nag of unease in his stomach. 

The living room and kitchen is quiet, and Anakin doesn’t hear any noise coming from either the ‘fresher or their bedrooms. Anakin is in the clear. 

He drops the food off unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter, throwing his outer robes over a chair on his way to the ‘fresher, bag of goods in hand. Flipping on the light, he starts up the hot water and pulls out the candle lights that sit underneath the sink. As the scalding water rises to the top, he pours in the oil and soap, and sprinkles the flower petals across the water, deliberately placing the candle lights in last so he could perfect their destination. They glow to life as soon as they make contact with the water, and Anakin smiles at the sight. 

Stretching back up to stand, he turns the light off and shifts the door shut, letting the dim incandescence float through the room, a heavy orange that immediately adds intimacy to the space.

He has to admit, he’s outdone himself. 

Then: a creak of a door hinge, the shuffling of tired steps, and crinkling of the take-out bag as Obi-wan no doubts sneaks a fry in before Anakin catches him. 

Anakin bounds back to the kitchen, like a child bursting at the seams. 

“I have a surprise, before we eat,” he says to Obi-wan’s back. (He is sneaking a fry.)

“That’s never good.” Obi-wan replies, turning around to lean back against the counter, chewing thoughtfully. 

“All my surprises are good surprises.” 

“Oh, like the time you superglued my datapad to the ceiling so I would pay more attention to you? You could have just asked, dear one.” 

Anakin huffs, and covers the distance between them in two short strides, nudging Obi-wan towards the ‘fresher, covering both of Obi-wan’s eyes with his hands. 

“Just,” Anakin murmurs, “trust me on this one.” 

They lumber towards the ‘fresher, Anakin pushing a blinded Obi-wan forwards with each step. When they make their way to the entrance, Anakin stops them, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Smells good, at the very least.” Obi-wan hums, in no hurry to have his sight back. 

Anakin, however, cannot wait and eagerly pulls his hands back, watching Obi-wan’s face for a reaction. 

The smile begins in Obi-wan’s eyes as they crinkle, and then it moves down to his cheeks and into his mouth, which is pulled back in a twisted, tender way. Joy sings through every feature, and Anakin is elated. 

Obi-wan turns his head to look at him, his gaze tender. “Is this for me?” 

Anakin bites the inside of his cheek. “For us, to share, if you want. Unless you want to be alone, I’m more than happy to go lay down, but I thought-” 

“For us, then.” Obi-wan leans in and kisses him on the jaw, already undressing. For the second time that day, Anakin looks down at a small heap of clothing. He closes the ‘fresher door behind them. 

As soon as he slides his legs into the water, Obi-wan moans, and Anakin, no matter how many times he’s heard it, blushes, his breath quickening. Obi-wan is somehow both the most proper, and most obscene person Anakin has ever had the good graces of knowing. 

The petals dance away from Obi-wan, ripples in the water sending them cascading in circles. “Come on, then,” he says to Anakin, who is still staring down at him with a dopey smile on his face. 

Anakin makes quick work of his clothing, standing naked next to the bath. He motions for Obi-wan to lean forward so he can nestle in behind him. 

The water is still piping hot, almost uncomfortably so, but Anakin makes a small ahh noise at the feeling of it on his sore muscles. He snakes his legs on each side of Obi-wan, pulling him back so that Obi-wan’s back lays flush against his chest, having to shoo a candle light out of the way. It bumbles along their sides, and out towards their entangled legs, illuminating the peachy bubbles and sunset tinged petals that bob in their wake. Obi-wan tilts his head back, resting it on Anakin’s shoulder, and sighs in contentment. 

He drops a kiss on Obi-wan’s temple, breathing him in, his arms finding their home around Obi-wan’s waist. The skin on Obi-wan chest, arms, and face glimmer in the candlelight, flickering orange, more radiant than any Tatooine sunset, and Anakin wants to fall face first into the radiant gleam of his heart, wants to crawl into Obi-wan’s chest and bask in the warmth of his love, his light. 

“This is lovely,” Obi-wan whispers, fluttering his eyes closed. “Thank you.” 

Anakin’s hold around his middle tightens a bit in response, trailing a hand up and down Obi-wan’s stomach in repetition, a mindless gesture. “You seem tired lately.”

Obi-wan turns his head toward Anakin’s, resting his forehead in the crook of Anakin’s neck. He doesn’t get a response for a few heartbeats, and Anakin wonders if Obi-wan heard him. And then: 

“Well, we are at war.” Obi-wan’s tone is flat, nondescript. Anakin knows Obi-wan is mincing his words for his sake, and as a bad habit of holding tight to all of his problems, like sharing them would break him. Anakin wants to share the load with him, help carrying the burden. 

“Are you sure that’s all?” He mumbles into Obi-wan’s humid forehead, sweat beginning to glisten at his hairline from the searing water. 

Obi-wan lets out the faintest of sighs through his nose, carefully considering his response. “I wish I…,” he grabs Anakin’s hands in the water, laying them on top and threading his fingers into Anakin’s, “I wish I could help more. Do more. None of it ever feels enough.” 

Anakin gazes over their tangled legs, barely visible underneath the bubbles drifting over the surface, and aches all over at the thought of Obi-wan feeling inadequate. He wishes Obi-wan could see himself as Anakin sees him: brave, selfless, the entire backbone of the war, and a brilliant General and inspiring leader. Anakin has, and would a million times over, follow him into the depths of hell. The petals stick to their skin, creating a small halo of reds and purples where their bodies meet the water.

“You’re doing enough.” Anakin sighs. “You barely sleep, you’re always doing briefings and writing reports, and when we’re finally on a break you’re off training younglings, sitting in for the council, kriffing asking for sparring practice.” He huffs a laugh of disbelief into Obi-wan’s hairline. “You practically run this war yourself sometimes. When do you ever rest?” 

Obi-wan is silent for some time, probably thinking of some way to deflect everything. He comes back with rare and unusual honesty. “It feels selfish, taking time for myself when I know there are people out there dying. Innocent people.” 

Anakin scoffs. “How are you supposed to help them if you’re ready to keel over yourself, hm?” 

“We’re jedi, that’s what we do. Besides,” Obi-wan rubs his face on Anakin’s neck, tone turning sweet, “I have you to make sure I don’t.” 

Anakin grins into the wet curve of his head, his hair plastered to his skull from the steam wafting up around them, making the edges of the room disappear into a soft and warm fog. 

“You’re enough, and you deserve rest.” He plants an overdone kiss on Obi-wan’s skull, rougher than usual to make a point. 

Obi-wan hums noncommittally and tightens his hold on Anakin’s hands, somehow sinking further into Anakin’s chest. 

He squeezes once and then untangles his fingers from Obi-wan’s hold to trace over his body. The tops of his thighs are as far as Anakin can reach, so he starts there, letting his fingertips graze over sensitive and supple skin, over soft hair and old scars. He moves to the base of Obi-wan’s stomach, purposefully ignoring his cock in favor of showering him with pure adoration and affection. He’ll let his hands wander there after they’ve eaten and gotten into bed. 

Anakin loves the broad plain of Obi-wan’s chest, loves to rest his head on it after a long day, so he spends extra time there, dragging his fingernails across the pink skin, smoothing the sting down with the flat of his palm. He glides up to Obi-wan’s neck and into the base of his auburn hair, gently massaging the tense bundles of nerves that always seem to gather after a long and stressful day, and Obi-wan melts into him, humming sleepily. 

Overwhelmed that Obi-wan is his, that this breathtaking man is resting in his arms, seeping into his chest and finding home in his heart, he can’t help but want to stay like this forever: clean, warm, safe, and together. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Anakin breathes out, voice cracking, “and I love you so much.” 

The petals gleam in agreement, hovering in reverence near him, their red hues like Anakin’s beating heart, holding Obi-wan in place. He understands their predicament; he, too, would bloom and fall and bloom and fall for this man, would reach out as far as he can from the wet and mossy ground to be regarded and gazed at, plucked and taken home. Even if it meant dying, wilting away, it would be worth it to be held near his face, to be carefully tucked into a vase to watch over him in the final days. Him and these flowers are one and the same, always gravitating towards the brightest point in the room, his sun, his reason for blooming. 

Soft and slow breaths escape Obi-wan, and his chest evens out in a regular cadence. He must have fallen asleep. Good, Anakin thinks. 

Anakin holds him close and watches the bubbles pop, one by one, as the time passes. Candlelight reflects off of the still surface of the water, the rise and fall of Obi-wan’s chest the only movement causing faint ripples. This is the closest he’s come to meditation lately, and it feels so wonderful. 

He’s not sure what time it is, and can’t be bothered to care if anyone has comm’d him. Here in the four corners of their shared space is Anakin’s entire universe, and bliss simmers in his chest. 

Anakin’s fingers are starting to prune and sweat drips off of chin. The water is starting to cool, though, and if Obi-wan hadn’t been stuck to his body, he probably would want to get out. He doesn’t want to wake him though, as sleep is rare and precious these days. 

His stomach, however, has a different idea, and growls loudly, startling Obi-wan awake, who chuckles at the sound. 

“Maybe we should go eat that food you brought back,” he teases. 

Anakin can’t help the guilty smile that creeps its way onto his face. “How does eating and going back to sleep sound?” 

“Sounds like the best plan you’ve ever improvised, my dear.” 

Anakin makes a psh noise. “I don’t ever improvise.” 

Obi-wan scoffs, a high pitched laugh from the back of his throat. “So this was all planned, then?” 

Anakin sees the opportunity and takes it. “What, falling in love with you? No, but that has been my greatest achievement this far.” 

Obi-wan raises his head from Anakin’s shoulder and meets him at eye level, twisting his body around to kiss Anakin deeply, biting his lower lip and sucking. Anakin snakes a hand to the back of his head and kisses back, trying to pour all his love, his entire heart, all of him, into Obi-wan’s mouth. He wants Obi-wan to pluck him, and know he loves me, he loves me, he loves me with the pull of each petal. 

Obi-wan breaks their kiss and leans back, staring into his eyes. “Well, unlike you, I do actually plan, and my greatest achievement this far will be devouring the order of fries waiting for me in the kitchen.” 

Anakin laughs, and flicks water at his face.

#obikin #boonki writes #obi-wan/Anakin #obi wan/anakin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #swcw #star wars #fluff #pure fluff #anakin is king of fancy baths #fanfic #writing #why do i always write at 3 am?? i am too tired to edit this

[underworldobsessed]

Burn the World for You ll An Obitine Fanfic

Title: Burn the World for You Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Anakin Skywalker/Padme Amidala Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Bo-Katan Kryze Series: ABO Obitine (Part 8 out of ???), TAS Week (Omegaverse week) (Part 5 out of 7) Summary: Temples and Sabers Week: Day 5 Omega Auction ll Satine and Padmè are enjoying an afternoon together when a surprise visitor tells them of an Omega Auction ring, and when they try to comm their respective Jedi, they find that they had already gone to investigate and hadn't been heard from in a few days, since they were supposed to check in. Those running the ring quickly learn what happens when someone harms their omegas, as they will burn everything down to ensure they're safe. Author’s Note: This quickly spiraled out of control, but in a good way! I hope you all enjoy! Mando’a translations: Cyar'ika - Beloved Vod - Sister K'oyacyi - Come Back Safely, or Survive.

Read here or under the cut

Having Padmé over for tea was always such a treat. Satine and her both had been so busy lately that the time to just see friends and relax seemed far in the past, but they did always try to make time to see one another. It was sort of fun to engage in just idle gossip and spend time with those who didn’t have ulterior motives.

“So Obi still has no idea about you and his padawan, does he?” Satine laughed, shaking her head. She adored her jedi, but she absolutely knew that he wasn’t going to notice the obvious. After Obi-Wan had faked his death, Satine had grown closer to Padmé and confessed to her one night that she had been mated to Obi-Wan for years, after which Padmé had confessed to being married and mated to Anakin, which had only caused the two of them to grow closer.

“Not at all, it’s almost funny. Obi-Wan is smart, but he can’t see what’s in front of him. I love Ani, but he really has no idea how to be subtle about our relationship.” Padmé laughed and sipped at her drink, spiked with a little something that Satine had lying around. Neither woman was drunk, they both had high tolerances, but they were relaxed.

A knock on the chamber door tore their attention from their conversation and Satine stood, putting on the familiar mask of Duchess as one of her guards entered the room.

“Forgive the intrusion, Duchess,” She sounded apologetic “But there is someone here to see you. I wouldn’t have given permission but you said that this is one of the few people to allow access…”

The guard moved out of the way and in walked a woman in full Beskar’gam.

“Death Watch!” Padmé moved to stand in front of her friend with her blaster raised. “I won’t let you hurt the Duchess!” Satine reached and lowered her friend’s arm as the woman removed her helmet, revealing a young face with red hair, chopped almost sloppily above her shoulders.

“Bo!” Satine moved forward, but stopped not far in front of her estranged sister. “What are you doing here?” She glanced behind her momentarily to make sure no other Death Watch members were waiting for her to let her guard down, before she looked, truly looked at her. She had never seen such fear on her face before, not even when Satine had to flee their home after their parents had been assassinated. She knew Bo-Katan to be a hardened warrior, to wear her emotions under the surface so no one would see how she truly felt, but whatever this was, really terrified her.

Bo-Katan glanced over at Padmé, as if she was judging whether or not she could trust her, but she ended up just moving to lean against the wall. She tried to school her expression, but Satine could still see the fear in her face. She knew her sister well, even after all these years.

“You know I wouldn’t come to you unless I was desperate.” Bo’s voice was even as she looked over at her sister. “But something has come to light that Death Watch is doing that I can’t stand to see. I’ve tried to convince them to stop, but they refuse to listen to me. I think they suspect that I’m not an alpha like them, because why else would they not listen to me on this?”

“Bo, you’re rambling.” Satine gently told her, moving closer to her to squeeze her hand. “What is Death Watch doing?”

“...Omega auctions..” Bo’s face turned white as a sheet as she told her this, and for a moment, Satine thought her sister was going to be sick. “They’re taking Omegas from their homes and auctioning them off to either other Death Watch members or just to the highest bidder. I know I’m on blockers; both Pheromone and Heat blockers, but Satine, what if they discover me? These poor Omegas… They don’t deserve what they’re going through.”

Satine felt ice run through her veins. Omega auctions were illegal in all parts of the galaxy as far as she was aware. So the fact that Death Watch was running one was enough to get the attention of the Jedi Order, and get them to put a stop to it. But the question remained, why was Bo telling her this?

“Bo, why are you telling me this? I can’t do much here. I only handle the neutral systems.” She didn’t understand where her sister was coming from.

“I couldn’t go to Pre. He doesn’t know about my presentation, and I didn’t want him to find out and… send me to auction with the rest of them, and I know about your mate being jetii. I know that you have connections that I don’t, and that you could maybe help. Please, Sat’ika..” The childhood nickname caused a lump to form in Satine’s throat. She hadn’t heard her sister call that in so long, and knew she had to help her if she was that desperate.

“Of course, Bo’ika.” She promised, moving to her commlink to try and connect to Obi-Wan, noticing how Padmé had gone to reach out to Anakin at the same time. When neither of their communications were answered, they shared a worried glance. “Did Master Skywalker tell you he was going on a mission where he wouldn’t be able to be reached?”

“No, did Master Kenobi?” Padmé asked, which only got a shake of Satine’s head in turn. “Do you have Ahsoka’s frequency?”

“I do,” Satine let her worry slip through as she went to reach out to Ahsoka, who picked up really quickly.

“Duchess, thank the force you called,” Ahsoka sounded worried “I may need your assistance.”

“Padawan Tano, what’s going on? Where’s Obi-Wan and Anakin?” Satine didn’t need the force to know that something was off, that her mate may be in danger again.

“They… they went on a mission to stop what was rumored to be an Omega Slave Ring but that was days ago and they haven’t returned to Coruscant yet. Master Yoda won’t let me go after them, but I think they’re in danger.” Ahsoka glanced at her lap. “I’m not an Omega though, but the two of them both are… What if they were found out?”

Possessiveness flared in Satine, turning her skin hot and one hand clenched in a fist. “I’ll make sure they’re alright, Ahsoka.” She didn’t even recognize her own voice as she spoke, the tone unnaturally angry for her. It wasn’t even like the anger she felt towards Obi-Wan when he had faked his death, no this was primal and she knew she would raze down the entire galaxy if it meant bringing her Omega home to her. From the look in Padmé’s eyes, she knew that it would be the same for her as well. “Everything will be alright, I’ll contact you when I get them.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” Ahsoka asked, ready to tell Satine the details if it came down to it.

“Don’t worry, I have a source.” She hung up the commlink, before looking to her sister. “I suggest you tell me everything, Bo, because if Obi and Anakin have failed, we may as well be their last hopes.”

The whip was sharp against Obi-Wan’s back, and he did everything to prevent them from seeing his pain. There was a part of him that wondered why they were damaging what he knew was the merchandise. He and Anakin both had been captured as they were investigating an underground omega slave ring. He didn’t know how they knew that the two of them were omegas, but they knew.

And now, they were on the sales floor as the hottest merchandise.

“Well, look what we got here,” Obi-Wan looked up and saw a man in full Beskar’gam. So Death Watch was involved… fantastic. “A Jedi Omega… pity you’re already marked. We can’t sell a marked Omega easily. Your friend on the other hand…”

“No!” Obi-Wan thrashed against the chains that were holding him. He glanced to Anakin… poor Anakin. The poor man had been through so much in terms of slavery, and to use his secondary gender as another excuse to put him in chains. Even now, his head was down, looking so lost and broken. “Remove my mark, make me unmarked, just let Anakin go!” He didn’t want Anakin to go through that again. He didn’t deserve that to happen to him. At the revelation that Obi-Wan was marked, Anakin’s head shot up and he looked over at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan tried to remember if he had ever told Anakin about his mate, but he was drawing a blank. Now was not the time to consider that.

“Hmm… too bad, not going to happen, though we can remove that mark and fetch both of you for a fitting price. And how ironic, that the mate of the Duchess Satine will help us fund our efforts to dethrone her.” The whip came sharp against his back once more, and he didn’t make a sound, though he could feel the blood drip down his back. He had been taking every strike, and thankfully, because he had been vocal about it, they were diverting their attention to him. Anakin had been receiving minimal blows, but nothing compared to what Obi-Wan had been dealing with.

“Now let’s see our other prize,” The Death Watch member walked over to Anakin, and sliced off his shirt, armor long since being removed. “You’re marked too? What happened to the Jedi not taking mates.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, shocked that Anakin had also taken a mate. But judging by the look of defiance on his face, Anakin’s had been done on purpose. He had knowingly taken a mate. Part of him wanted to scold Anakin for his blatant disrespect for the Jedi Code, but this was not the time for that, and it would sound incredibly hollow with what he knew was his own disregard for it when it came to Satine.

“No matter, we can sell you both and after you’re purchased, just remove that mating mark of yours. You’ll both still be worth plenty of credits now that I think about it. A jedi omega. If your new alphas can break you, you will be a fine pet for them. Now, it’s your time on the sales floor.” Even behind the helmet, Obi-Wan could hear the smirk in his voice. He thrashed against the chains, wanting to do anything to wipe that smirk off his face but the chains were designed with holding a Jedi in mind, unwilling to bend with the use of the Force. The whip hit his back one last time, and Obi-Wan felt his body just go slack. He couldn’t take anymore pain.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin called, wanting him to respond but his fighting spirit had just… snapped. Or rather, his energy had faded. He had lost a lot of blood because of this, and the last whip against his skin, tearing at the flesh, was enough to cause him to give him. “Obi-Wan! You need to keep fighting, please.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, not wanting to let Anakin down, but he felt himself giving up. The Jedi Council didn’t know they had been taken. Their commlinks had been confiscated and he knew they had lost. At least they didn’t die at the hands of the war. For a moment, his mind flickered to Satine, his beloved. He didn’t want them to remove his mating mark, but because of what he knew it would do to her. Their bond had already been severed once before, but a purposeful removal of a mark was different. A heat and a rut would trigger in each of them, and nobody would be there to help her. He wished it had been different, they had been more careful. They should have been more careful.

“I’m sorry, Anakin.” Obi-Wan finally spoke, lifting his head to look at his former apprentice. “I failed you. I should have protected you from this, and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail me, we’ll find a way out of this. We always do.” Normally, Obi-Wan would agree with his optimism, but something like this wasn’t going to be easy, and with the chains preventing him from using the force, he knew there was nothing he could do. “... I suppose my secret’s out in the open now.”

“Is it Senator Amidala?” Obi-Wan asked, and watched as the color filled Anakin’s cheeks, turning him a bright red. Ah, so he was right in his suspicions that they were closer than they let on. “I’m not a moron, Anakin, I can see how you feel for her, feel it in the force. And honestly, who am I to scold you with the fact that you’re mated when I am too. You deserve to be happy, my friend.”

“When did you and the duchess…?” Anakin was almost afraid to ask, but they were being open with each other, laying their cards on the table. Anakin knew that it was because Obi-Wan thought they wouldn’t get out of this situation, but he hoped that Ahsoka would come, bringing their clone troopers and make a daring getaway.

“When I was still Qui-Gon’s padawan, when we were protecting the Duchess from bounty hunters. My blockers had been left at our previous camp and I went into a heat, a terrible thing at the most inconvenient time. During one of the times I was lucid, I asked Satine to… to…” His voice quieted, now it was his turn to blush “And she did, but we both got lost in the passion, and she marked me. She apologized but I was okay with it. I thought maybe it would make things easier, and I… honestly had become tired of denying how I felt. It did, until I had to leave. Leaving the other half of you is not easy, and I didn’t see her again until the council asked me to investigate Death Watch on Mandalore and then we became her protection detail on the Coronet.”

Before either of them could speak again, the platform they were on began to rise, and they found themselves in front of a small audience of, from the smell alone, Obi-Wan knew to be exclusively Alphas, many of which wearing Mandalorian armor.

“Alphas!” A voice boomed around them “I present to you two new options for sale, and they are not just any options, but they are Jedi as well!” A murmur rippled through the crowd, especially upon seeing both of their mating marks. “No worries, when you purchase these two find specimens, we will be more than happy to pay for their mark removal.”

A chill ran down Obi-Wan’s spine, and he wanted to fight against the chains, but he couldn’t. He was trapped in there, and his body was still aching from the whips. He didn’t want another alpha. He wanted Satine. No other.

He didn’t hear how much either of them were going for, focusing on the fear on Anakin’s face, the stress, and the smell of that stress in the air. He tried to use the force to calm Anakin down, knowing this was incredibly traumatic for him.

As the crowd started to bid on him, there was suddenly an explosion from behind the crowd. Emerging from the rubble was Satine, Padmé and a woman in full Mandalorian armor… another member of Death Watch? Then why was she fighting alongside Satine.

Alpha ! Obi-Wan’s inner Omega sang, and instead of being as excited as that part of him was, his body grew more limp. The blood loss was getting to him more and more each second. The last thing he remembered was Anakin calling out his name, and Satine pulling out a small trigger from somewhere before his consciousness finally faded.

Satine knew that she would regret what she was doing once she really thought about it, but seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin there, with Obi-Wan losing consciousness, chained up as they were about to be auctioned off… Well, rationality left her mind.

“You really thought two Jedi could go missing and no one would come looking for them?” Satine’s voice was angry, the calm and collected Duchess taking a back seat to the angry alpha in her mind. “You really thought you could take the mates of a Duchess and a Senator and not assume we would burn the world down looking for them?”

“You? The weak willed, pacifist duchess wouldn’t raise a finger,” A member of Death Watch spoke up as they landed in front of her “And you, Bo-Katan, I should have known you would betray us. You were always so weak when it came to your sister. Besides, you think you’re so good at hiding your weak nature, but nothing could keep the stench of Omega off of you. You’re lucky Pre is in the dark, otherwise you would be on that stand as well” Satine could feel her sister preparing to launch herself at the warrior, so she raised an arm to keep her where she was.

“I won’t raise a finger to hurt you, you’re right, but the same cannot be said for this place. And you act like I came without preparing for every circumstance. You see, you harmed my mate, and I won’t let that sit.” She passed the trigger over to Padmé with a smirk. “You know Senator Amidala, yes? That man right there is Anakin Skywalker, her mate, and unlike me, she doesn’t have a problem with violence. If I say the word, she will press that trigger, and a bomb will go off underneath your feet. The fall and the explosion won’t kill you, and we have members of their Clone Troopers on their way to arrest you all for your crimes. However, my darling sister,” She glanced at Bo, who had her blasters in her hand. “Is entirely willing to blast your heads off if any of you try anything. And well, if I don’t see her do it, who’s to say what she did.”

“You don’t have the guts to try.” The Death Watch member sneered as he pulled his weapon on Satine.

“You forget, I may be a pacifist, but I am also a Mandalorian, just as much as any of you are.” She turned her head away as Bo fired off a single shot, knocking them down. Many of the crowd quickly moved out of her way, and she stalked forward, her gaze on the unconscious form of her mate. Not long after they had made their way forward, the sound of Clone Troopers boots rang out and they came in to arrest many of the Alphas there.

Both she and Padmé came to a stop in front of their chained up Omega’s. Padmé moved first, moving to hug Anakin and pulled out a vibroblade to cut the chain that was holding him.

“Angel..” Anakin mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her scent and allowing it to surround him. It took a moment for him to remember, and he pulled back. “Obi-Wan, we need to help him.”

But he didn’t need to say anything, because Satine was already trying to get him out of the chains, taking the blade from Padmé to cut them and catching Obi-wan as he fell forward. Her heart broke at the sight of the whip marks lining up and down his back. “Oh cyar’ika..” She mumbled, looking up as Bo moved forward.

“The clones have arrested many of them here. I… need to go before they think I’m involved too..” She glanced around for a moment before she looked down at Satine. “Thank you, vod, for helping me.”

Satine set Obi-Wan down for a moment before she got up and hugged her sister. “You are always welcome with me, Bo-Katan, if you ever choose to return to Mandalore, you will be welcome. You are my sister, and I will never turn you away.”

She felt Bo shudder in her arms before she wrapped her arms around Satine briefly, but then pulled back. “Not while you're the leader of Mandalore, Satine. We are not a peaceful people… and I can’t bear to see us like that…” She took a few steps back before she got her jetpack going and she flew off and out of there.

“K’oyacyi, Bo-Katan…” Satine mumbled, before her attention immediately went back to her mate. He was definitely looking worse for wear and she didn’t know how long he had been bleeding. She wasn’t strong enough to carry him back to the ship, but she looked over at Anakin. “Help me carry him.” He nodded and moved to lift up Obi-Wan, both him and Satine flinching at the pained moan he let out.

The four of them went back to the ship, in silence. As soon as they were back on the ship, Anakin sent Obi-Wan down on a bed, and went to aid Padmé in the take off. After grabbing some bacta to put on his wounds, Satine moved to brush a strand of hair out of his face, relieved as his eyes finally opened.

“Cyar’ika… thank the stars you’re okay.” Satine smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead “You scared me.”

“Hello, my darling.” Obi-Wan gave her a pained smile “If you are not the most beautiful sight I could have laid my eyes on.” Satine wanted to roll her eyes, deflect his attention, but she felt her skin heat and she smiled. She was hopelessly in love with this man.

She didn’t say anything at first, moving to start applying the bacta to his bare back. Even with it, it was going to take some time for him to heal. She glanced towards Anakin and Padmé for a moment, but realized that their secret was out in the open now. Anakin knew, truly knew, and they didn’t have to hide their relationship from him anymore.

“I want you to stay at my apartment on Coruscant with me for a few days,” She said, knowing that the fire that burned within her when she learned of Obi-Wan’s predicament still burned. She wanted to keep him close at least until she needed to return to Mandalore. “I need you by my side.”

“Satine, I…” He moved to sit up but quickly fell back to laying on his stomach at the pain. “I need to be at the temple. We can’t…”

“Please, Obi,” Her voice became slightly pleading. “I cannot begin to describe the way I felt when I heard that you went to investigate an Omega Auction ring, and seeing you chained up, unconscious, turned me into a woman I never wanted to be. The reason I want you by my side is entirely selfish, but I need to be sure you’re alright, that I haven’t lost you..”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and Satine was certain that he was going to say no again. She wouldn’t hold it against him. She knew just how important this was for him, to keep up the facade of the two of them not being together. If he said no again, she would understand, but she would still stay on Coruscant until she was certain he was okay. However, after a moment, she saw him nod.

“Okay, Satine, I’ll stay with you.”

She had to contain her emotions, but she moved to kiss his cheek. She would care for him there as an alpha should, help him heal before he would go back to his jedi duties.

It was the least she could do as she thought that she failed to protect him before.

#TASweek2021 #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Obitine #Jen writes #Anakin Skywalker #Padme Amidala #Anidala #I wrote a ship I haven't before :D #Bo-Katan Kryze