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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

hiii idk if u still take prompts but "i’m never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again" for Obitine?

Ahhh thank you for the prompt! This is actually the last prompt in my inbox! I'll open up prompts again soon, but for now, I'm going to try and focus on a few bigger projects.

This one got away from me, so you can read the whole thing under the cut, or read on Ao3!

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When he is brought to her, it is like he isn’t even there.

“What’s wrong with him?” Satine asks when Anakin stumbles down the ramp of his ship, Obi-Wan slung over his shoulders. His eyes are open but vacant, almost as though in death.

“He was drugged,” Anakin growls.

“What did they give him?” she asks.

Anakin’s eyes are dark with rage. “I don’t know. But I can assure you, Duchess, that the ones who did this to him are dead.”

Satine bristles.

“Self-defense, my lady,” Anakin says before she can say anything about fair trials or neutral zones.

“Uh-huh,” Satine accepts mildly, paying more attention to Obi-Wan and his current state.

“Is there a medical facility here?” Anakin asks.

“I sent for healers as soon as you called,” Satine says. “They’re awaiting him in my quarters.”

“Thank you, Duchess,” Anakin says, the tight line of his jaw softening ever so slightly. “Lead the way.”

Satine leads Anakin through the palace entrance and down the long and winding corridors that lead to her quarters. Guards flank them on either side, though Satine thinks their presence to be unnecessary with Anakin there — even if he is carrying another Jedi with him.

By the time they reach her rooms, Anakin is panting. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he sets Obi-Wan down with gentle care.

Obi-Wan is fully unconscious now — a fact Satine is grateful for. The vacant staring was unsettling, especially coming from Obi-Wan whose eyes were always so full of life and curiosity. Conversely, a wild look still lingers in Anakin’s eyes, and it flashes as healers descend upon them.

“Can you tell us what happened?” one of the healers asks Anakin.

“He was captured by some Separatist scum. I found him, but he was drugged. I… I can barely feel him,” Anakin says, panic finding its way back into his voice.

The healer whips her head up and looks at him more closely. “Are you okay? Were you drugged too?”

“What?” Anakin asks. “No, I was never—”

“These two are Jedi,” Satine interrupts. “They share a mental bond. They can sense each other through it.”

“Ah,” the healer says. Whether the healer feels any ill-will towards the Jedi, as many Mandalorians do, she does not give it away. She continues to work dutifully on her charge.

“What are you doing to him?” Anakin asks as the healer begins drawing blood and waving scanners over Obi-Wan’s body.

“We’re just running some tests. We need to figure out what he was drugged with. I don’t want to give him anything that might mix poorly with what he was given.”

Anakin nods, but Satine can still see the way he clenches his fist and jaw.

“We need you two to give us some room,” the healer says, before she seemingly remembers who she is speaking to. “Respectfully, Duchess,” she adds.

“Of course,” Satine says graciously. She takes a step back, but sees Anakin frozen in place. Gently, she grabs his elbow and nudges him along. He follows her to the edge of the room, where they wait for the healers to help Obi-Wan.

Satine doesn’t know how long they stand there, hovering awkwardly from afar, when a scanner goes off.

The healer picks up the scanner and examines it. “Good,” she says to herself.

“What was that? Anakin asks.

“The results from his blood test. The drug they gave him was a pretty heavy-duty sedative. Not the type we use in med centers and certainly not comfortable, but it won’t kill him. He’s going to be groggy and confused when he wakes up, but he’ll be fine.”

Satine and Anakin let out a breath at the same time.

“You two can stay here with him if you wish. We’ll check up on him in a few hours, but do send for us if he wakes up or appears to need medical attention.

“Thank you,” Satine says, bowing her head.

Satine sits on a chair beside the bed and Anakin paces around.

“Anakin,” Satine says calmly. “You heard the healer as well as I did. He’s going to be alright.”

Anakin pauses in his pacing and moves to stand next to where Satine is sitting. “I know. I just… I can barely feel him,” he repeats. “I was… when they first drugged him, I thought…”

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Satine said sympathetically, standing to meet his gaze. “But he’s alright.”

Anakin offers a small nod and takes a shaky breath. Satine notices the dark circles under his eyes and the unusual pallor of his skin. “You should rest.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Anakin says stubbornly.

“He’ll be just fine right here. Anakin, you’re exhausted. I don’t need to be bonded to you to see that,” Satine says.

“Why are you…”

She nods her head at Obi-Wan. “He would want me to make sure you’re okay. And I care about your well-being too.”

Anakin blinks his eyes a few times. Whether he’s trying to wake himself up or fight back tears, Satine isn’t sure.

“But, I—”

“Go, Anakin,” she says softly. “You are dead on your feet. Go get something to eat and a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll watch over him while you’re gone, alright?”

Satine watches Anakin’s reluctant gaze fall on Obi-Wan.

“You’ve done enough for him, Anakin,” she insists.

Anakin stares at Obi-Wan for a moment longer.

“You’ll send for me if he wakes up? Or if anything changes?”

“Of course,” Satine says. She turns to a guard. “Take him to the guest quarters, please. Make sure some food is brought to him.”

“Yes, Duchess,” the guard says.

Anakin looks taken aback by the accommodations—unused to such opulence—but he goes along with it easily enough. A guard leads him away, but another guard remains in the room.

“You may leave us,” Satine says.

“Yes, Duchess,” the guard says, though she can see the hesitation in his eyes.

She sits on the bed and leans back against the headboard. She looks down at Obi-Wan where he lays, still asleep.

“What am I going to do with you,” she murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

The hours march on like so many dutiful soldiers and Satine feels them weighing heavily on her. She is about to submit to sleep when Obi-Wan stirs beside her.

“Obi?” she whispers hopefully.

He lets out a quiet whimper, and it is then that Satine notices the sweat coating his brow.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “Obi, wake up.”

If Obi-Wan hears her, he is ignoring her. He tosses his head to the side and a sliver of light from the high windows rests on his face, revealing a tear track. His chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Wake up, Obi-Wan,” she says again, more forcefully this time. His eyes flash open and he blinks at her.

“Are you with me?” Satine asks.

Cloudy eyes look right through her, unfocused and unsure. I guess not, then.

“Come on, snap out of it,” Satine says. “You’re okay.”

“No,” he murmurs weakly. “Stop, stop.”

Satine yanks her hands away from him.

“Obi, please,” Satine says. “Obi-Wan, it’s me.”

Obi-Wan turns his head to her. The fog lifts from his eyes. “Satine?” Obi-Wan asks, confusion still evident in his tone.

“It’s alright now,” Satine soothes. “It was just a nightmare, you’re safe.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You’re safe,” she reaffirms.

“Where…?”

“You’re in the palace,” she says.

“Palace?”

“My palace. On Mandalore.”

“Why…?”

“You and Anakin were far from Coruscant and you needed medical attention. Mandalore was the closest stopping point to your location. Anakin called me in a bit of a panic. I told him to come.”

“I was with the Separatists,” Obi-Wan says, his fingers clenching around the blankets. “They had me, they…”

“Shhh. It’s alright now. I’m never going to let them hurt you again,” she murmurs, knowing she has no real power to actually keep him safe from the Separatists, but she is willing to say anything to calm the Jedi lying in her bed. “Besides, if I can’t keep you safe, Anakin will surely protect you from them.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes flashing with a mix of concern and fondness. “Anakin was here. Where…?”

“I sent him to the guest quarters to get some sleep. He asked me to wake him if you woke up, but I’ll give you a few more minutes to wake up.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head and looks at her incredulously. “You asked him to sleep and he just went?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear. People have a hard time saying no to me. Even your supposedly bull-headed Padawan.”

“There is nothing ‘supposed’ about it,” Obi-Wan says in indignation, becoming more coherent by the minute. “He is bull-headed.”

“Oh, so he does take after you then,” Satine smirks.

Obi-Wan scoffs. “Hardly.”

“Mmhmm.”

Obi-Wan glares at her but tilts his head back, his energy fading once more.

“You should get some more rest.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve been resting.”

“You’ve been drugged. That is not the same as resting.”

“Ah yes,” Obi-Wan says quietly, rubbing his eyes. “That explains a few things.”

Dust dances in the beams of light cascading through the windows. The sweet melody of a bird welcoming the morning permeates the silence that stretches between the Jedi and the Mandalorian. Satine grabs Obi-Wan’s hand and caresses his knuckles with her thumb. He doesn’t shrink away from the touch.

“You know,” she says, breaking the silence, “it seems that every time we are together, one or both of us is always in some form of mortal danger.”

“Yes, well, it certainly keeps our relationship interesting,” Obi-Wan replies. He chuckles lightly to himself.

Satine scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. “That doesn’t make me feel better about it.”

“Well, if it does make you feel better, I’m not in mortal danger anymore.”

“No,” Satine replies, continuing to circle his knuckles with her thumb. “No, you’re safe now.”

Satine hopes it will stay that way, even for just a little bit longer.

#the last prompt in my inbox!#thank you for the prompt!#my writing #obitine #tw non consensual drug use #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #anakin skywalker

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spideyanakin · 3 years

Text

Love Teared us Apart

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Got very inspired by Love will tear us Apart from Joy Division (if you want to listen to it while you read :)) - iconic song if you ask me 😌😌

Prompt by @lightsabersandblaster // Imagine falling to the dark side and becoming Darth (Blank) in Anakin’s place. Both of you thought the other was dead. But a chance encounter between a sith lord and jedi master dig up old memories for both. Memories of when times were better and they were together.

🧚🏻‍♀️Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Sith name - Darth Deore (beloved in old English) Reason - reader joined the dark side because she wanted to be with her beloved; therefore Darth Deore

Leaving you to die on Mustafar was Obi-Wan’s biggest mistake. To see you, unconscious on the dark sandy shores of the lava planet made every bone in his heartache, and still hunted him to this day.

You thought that by joining the Sith you would be able to be with Anakin, free of constraints. Just the two of you ruling the galaxy - your naiveness making you think you could change the Sith for good, and turn the empire for the best. Love was the strongest power, wasn’t it?

But things didn't go as planned, love ended up tearing you apart. You found yourself killing your Jedi master - Windu, and now you were fighting with your best friend Obi-wan on the dark fire planet of Musatar.

The only way to calm you - or so he thought was to lie to your face that Anakin was dead in battle - and oh you believed it.

You believed it so much it made you sick. Clenching your stomach as you fell to your knees in pain. Learning his death doing the opposite of what Obi-Wan had planned.

“I COULD HAVE BROUGHT HIM BACK-” You screamed as your emotions got the best of you, sobs escaping your lips.

“No one could have.” He lied. “The clones took him down- just like the rest. You see what they did? Joining the Sith isn't the answer Y/n!”

“THAT’S A LIE! LIAR!” You spat out as you felt too weak to fight back, Obi-wan slowly approaching with his light-saber, ready to do the unthinkable. “LIArr-” You sobbed as you clenched the sand under your fingers Obi-Wan carefully approaching you.

The guilt in his stomach was too strong, and the memories of you were too. ‘Jedi’s can’t get attached’ he reminded himself before closing his eyes and hit you will all his strength, the hilt of his lightsaber knocking you down unconscious on the sandy floors. ‘The tide will rise’ he told himself. ‘You did what you had to do’

But that was almost 7 years ago.

Now you were sitting around a table, arguing on an imperial cruiser with a crew of Nazi-like men, the pain of Anakin’s supposed death still weighing on you more than anything else - fueling every single one of your decision.

“I said it had to be done by today!” You screamed punching the table with everything you had in your fist, making it tremble. “JEDI SCUM!” You spat out. “They won’t last long - not on my watch-” You eyed the man who was supposed to take care of the mission as he cut you in your words.

“We will take care of it by today then-” The men trembled under your glare, and his words only made your skin crawl.

“You. Said. That. Yesterday” You raised your hand slowing removing the air from his throat as his feet raised from the ground. “I’ll take care of the Jedi” You dropped him unconscious not caring if he knocked his head on the floor so hard it killed him. “Tell the emperor I’ll be back by tomorrow- if not... send help” You eyed another man who feared you more than any other in the room.

“Alright, M’lady.” a sweat passed through his forehead as he ran out the room.

And with that you were gone- you slipped away into your star-fighter, angrily kicking the start button, sending yourself into hyperspace.

Your thoughts swirled around who it could have possibly been. When it was someone else doing the dirty work - killing the leftover Jedi’s felt easier. But now... You were possibly confronting someone you knew like family. Having to kill them yourself...

You thought of Obi-wan. He hadn’t died with the rest, and you had let it slip all those years. Was he the one on Tatooine? Then things would be more complicated- you knew feelings would get in the way. Obi-wan swirled with memories of Anakin and you knew he would use them as an advantage.

Your thoughts went Ahsoka. Anakin’s Padawan had long left the council when the clones attacked. Maybe it was her. But that would make it harder still.

You didn’t know, but the duality of desperately wanting them to stay alive and having to do your duty as Darth Deore was too much. It messed with your head causing you to not pay attention to the ship that was slowly flying in your way right where you stopped your hyperspace.

You hit the breaks but it was too late. With the speed that you previously gained and the proximity of the ship, you crashed onto it making you spin towards Tatooine at almost lightning speed. Your last thoughts before shock made you unconscious being about how Anakin wouldn't be proud of that piloting moment.

Your ship crashed landed on the sand planet by chance not far from the Jedi’s settlement. The desert went on for miles and miles around the pretty large house that had been built. So when Anakin and Obi-wan heard the crash, they were directly alarmed. Their peace was never disturbed apart from when the Jawas were near - or stray sand people made their way a little too close.

Anakin felt it the second he got out of his house. It was you. Surrounded by a darker force - but you. He clenched his fist in disbelief and Obi-wan bit his lip in worry when he felt it too.

“This can’t be?” He turned to Obi-wan as he trotted his way to you before the ship would probably explode. The Jedi master barely looked at his ex-Padawan as he knew what was about to happen.

Anakin froze to the spot when he saw you. You looked the same as before, but different at the same time - he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was the way your hair was longer and looked darker. The way it loosely fell - you hated wearing it down, and yet it looked as though you never tied it anymore. Your traits hadn’t changed as thought time had barely caught up with you.

You were dressed differently too. Your Jedi robes had been long gone - some sort of black armor was placed on top of a dark and purple tunic. Leather pants and thick boots accompanied the look. As well as a black cape - a shade of deep purple covering the inside. Your usual two sabers were each locked on each side of your hips. Your usual purple blades being long replaced with red ones.

“Y/n-” He cried as he tried to shake you awake. Nothing seemed to work and you stayed unconscious in your about to explode ship. Before thinking twice Anakin grabbed you and walked away, barely passing by Obi-wan already knowing that he had known.

“You hid her from me...” Cold blood streamed in his veins as he turned his head towards his friend.

Anakin didn’t wait for an answer. He turned his head back to your unconscious form as you laid on their couch, your wounds already all patched up.

“You knew about Darth Deore’s existence, nothing was hidden from you,” Obi-wan replied as calm as a mountain his stare falling on you.

“You told me she died-” He greeted his teeth as he pierced daggers with his eyes, holding on a little tighter to your hand - the one he hadn’t let go since he found you.

“She has! Y/n died the second she became Deore.” Obi-wan stood up trying to bring some sense back into Anakin.

“That's not true-” He thought for a second. “I could have brought her back.” Anakin felt his eyes water and silence fell between the two Jedi’s. “She thought I was dead didn't she?” He realized after a good minute of silence. “You told her I was!” He almost screamed and Obi-wan looked away.

“I thought she’d come back to her senses if she thought that.”

“Well we both know you were wrong-” Ani raised his voice.

“It was the only way to keep you safe,” Kenobi argued.

“From what!?”

“From her!”

“I WOULD HAVE SAVED HER! ”

“More like die trying!” Nothing seemed to make Obi-wan change his mind. He walked over to another room, leaving Anakin alone with you.

It was silent for a good ten minutes. Obi-Wan had left to think, while Anakin was by your side thinking of nothing but what he would say when you woke up.

Suddenly you opened your eyes. Those darn eyes that Anakin dreamed of for 7 years. They still portrayed the same beautiful color, but they seemed colder- robotic almost. You let the light of day sink in, barely being able to move you turned your head and met Anakin’s crystal blue eyes - and suddenly you realized who it was.

“Ani-” You managed to say before you attempted to sit up, Anakin placing a hand on your back to stabilize you. “It’s you?” You smiled, the hand that wasn’t tangled into his traveling to his face.

You thumb scanned his traits. Tracing his lips, his eyes, his nose; everything you had missed in all that time.

“Anakin-” A sob escaped your lips and you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him as though he would disappear any minute. You let a rain of sobs, feeling comfort coming to you as he wrapped his arms around you, holding onto you as close as he could.

“I- I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” you sobbed, holding on tight to this moment with everything in you.

“It’s ok-” He sniffed resting his chin on your head. Long minutes of silence falling between the two of you as you sobbed into his arms.

“Where are we?” You sniffed as you brought your forehead against his. “Am I dead?” You wondered. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.” You bit your lip and Anakin brought you closer to him. “I cannot live another second of this- Bring me back to a time where everything was peaceful” You sniffed.

“This is real Y/n-” He whispered. “We’re very well alive- This isn’t a dream or death.” He took a second to pull you away and look at you.

“What?” Your voice cracked and you felt a wave of weakness pass through your veins. “Y- but- you died” You squeaked and more tears fell from your eyes. “I- I- Obi wan-”

“Obi-wan lied. He told me you were dead too.”

“But I- all this time-” You stuttered on your words.

“We were both alive- grieving for the other” His glossy eyes met yours as he wiped the stray tears from your cheeks, smiling a little at your presence.

“Never leave me again-”

“Never”

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@ourfavoritesergeantbarnes @slytherinambitious @criminaly-supernatural @coldlilheart @soveryhowvery

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin #Star Wars #Star Wars fan ficion #Star Wars imagine #sith

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thatonetimetraveller · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Cin Vhetin - T’ad

22 BBY - 7955

Din woke slowly this time, the beeping of medical equipment audible through the helmet’s audio sensors. He could sense movement just outside his peripheral vision so he sat slowly taking care not to pull at his back… the constant ache of the old wound was gone. Alertness coming back to him as he remembered the disjointed events of the day prior. His mind was sluggish but at least he could think clearly, the too big helmet helping him stay grounded. He was 30 years in the past, in the child version of his body. He flexed his hands and stretched his back, he groaned in satisfaction. He hasn't been able to do that since the injury, his back was always too stiff. Yes, he was definitely smaller. The weight of his red robes registered and he sucked in a breath, he hadn't seen those robes since his parents’ death. He lifted the edge of it under his helmet and gave it a good sniff. Ka’ra, it smelled like Aq-Vetina, the rich earthy scent of his first parents still strong, mixed with the distinct smell of spices on the market. There were other smells too like ash and blood but for once he ignored those, basking in the memory of his birth parents.

The door opened and Helix walked in, datapad in hand. He glanced up when he sensed Din looking at him and gave him a gentle smile

“Hey, kid” Helix pulled up a stool beside the bed and sat, keeping himself relaxed. Din nodded in greeting the helmet wobbling on his head.

“Do you know where you are?” Helix asked gently and Din tried not to let his irritation show since he did attack them yesterday and his mind was still hazy

“A Republic cruiser” He answered and Helix nodded

“Good. Can you tell me the year?” Din paused just to make sure he got the date right since it’s been decades since he last used CRC

“7955” Helix gave him a gentle smile and stood and began to fiddle with one of the medical equipment in the room. Din watched him like a hawk when a thought occurred to him in his still sluggish mind.

“Did you drug me?” he asked suspiciously and Helix stilled and turned back to Din

“Yes. Some weak sedatives and a mild Force suppressant” Din furrowed his eyebrows at that

“Force suppressant?” Why would he need that? He doesn’t have magic like Grogu or the jetii. Helix hummed

“The General suggested it since you weren’t sleeping well” he explained but Din was even more lost

“What do my dreams have to do with magic osik?” He asked incredulously and Helix froze as a scanner clattered on the floor

“Kark” He swore as he gathered the dropped item, shaken; though how Din knew since Helix appeared perfectly composed was a mystery. He turned to Din muttering some curse under his breath then leveling Din with a serious look

“You don’t know?” he asked and Din was starting to get nervous that something was wrong with him

“Know what?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion. Helix closed his eyes in pain and sighed

“Can I comm the General? He would be more suited for this conversation” Din looked at Helix in shock, the short time he knew the medic he was always confident knowing what to say, taking control of the situation with ease. Anxiety rolled in his stomach, but his instincts weren’t giving him any bad vibes so he reluctantly nodded

“Sure,” he said. Helix jumped into action and keyed in the General’s frequency, he picked up a tense minute later

“General, there’s a problem in room 27” Helix said voice level and the comm was silent for agonizingly long seconds

“Copy that” Kenobi’s voice was on edge as he disconnected from the comm. Helix sat back on the stool

“It’s nothing bad, Beroya” He tried to soothe. Din raised an eyebrow and tilted his bucket with a snort filled with disbelief

“I’m not a child, you don’t have to coddle me” Helix sucked in a breath his eyes filling with pain

“Oh, right”

The door hissed open and Kenobi rushed in followed by Kote, Din relaxed at the sight of them.

“Is everything alright vod?” Kote asked in a harsh and caring voice. Helix stood, gave Kote a nod with a small smile, and turned to Kenobi

“General he uh… doesn’t know” Both of them looked at Helix in shock the medic did not hesitate - ever. Kenobi blinked in confusion, then his eyes settled over Din while Kote eyed Helix. Din was so confused. What doesn’t he know? It was something fundamentally big he managed to miss in over 40 years. He watched warily as Obi-Wan pulled another chair from the corner and sat, Kote settled on the edge of his bed patting his leg comfortingly.

“What did Helix tell you?” Obi-Wan asked and Din’s attention snapped to him

“I was given sedatives and a Force suppressant?” he furrowed his eyebrows “I was told it helped me sleep better” Din was plagued with nightmares and dreams that came true since he was a child. Sometimes they remained in his head as an eerie echo or other times they were weird and cryptic but they always came true and left him more exhausted than he should be when he woke. Strangely though when the goran gave his beskar buy’ce the intensity of the dreams lessened, she said it would help him.

“Yes, visions are taxing on your body and mental wellbeing so in extreme cases or with an untrained Force user, mild Force suppressants are given to limit your exposure. Don’t worry it shouldn’t interfere with your connection to the Force too much” Kenobi gave him a reassuring smile and panic was rising violently in Din despite the sedatives.

“General, I think you went a bit too fast” Kote commented, his voice heavy with barely concealed sarcasm but Din could tell he was laughing on the inside. Din’s mind was blank, his hands were shaking

“I-I don’t understand. My dreams… I … have jetii magic? Neret’yc” he mumbled and grabbed the sides of his helmet with his shaking hands caught in his own feedback loop of panic and confusion

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan mumbled while Kote scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of him gently prying his hands away from the bucket.

“Gar morut’yc” He whispered. Din slowly came down from the panic, his mind still an anxious mess but he could think again. He really should stop losing control like that. It was like his usual controls were gone and everything felt more powerful than usual, including his own emotions. It was exhausting and humiliating still, he thanked Kote and turned back to Obi-Wan who looked at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Beroya. I shouldn’t have dumped it onto you like that. I assumed you knew” Discomfort weighed heavy on his heart at the apology but before he could say anything Helix whacked Kenobi on the back of his head. He let out a quiet oof. Terror spiked in Kote as he stared in shock

“Di’kut. That’s why I called you here” Helix snipped, then his face morphed into horror as his words registered and at Kenobi’s bewildered stare “Sir” he added as he straightened fearfully

“I deserved that one” Obi-Wan smiled and patted Helix on the arm. Once the General conceded, Kote burst into giggles, his lingering fear also disappearing from his shoulders. Helix glowered at him

“So… I have jetii magic?” Din asked before the vode could start a fight. Obi-Wan grimaced

“The Force but yes” Din hummed processing the information trying to put the two separate boxes of jetii osik and Mando’ade together without much success. There was something missing.

“What I want to know is how did Beroya miss this for over 30 odd years?” Kote interjected and he had a point. Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought

“Many Force sensitive adults don’t know as the Force doesn’t always manifest with telekinesis, it could be good instincts, faster reaction time, better aim, visions of the future in dreams or just a heightened sense of empathy” Obi-Wan explained. Din looked down at his hand curiously

“I thought I always had good instincts” he mumbled “It feels different now though” Kote’s eyes snapped to his bucked in alarm, Helix’s hand tightening on his arm to keep him in place

“How?” Obi-Wan probed. Din, shrugged

“Clearer and louder. I… out of control” he said, words failing to convey the difference. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath

“Are you shielding, young one?” Din tilted his head in confusion

“I can protect my mind?” He asked innocently and Obi-Wan’s hand returned to his beard in thought then his eyes lit up in understanding

“Was your beskar’gam made of beskar?” he asked and Din bristled

“Of course it was,” he said with a little pride in his voice, his armor was his life after all. Obi-Wan tongue clicked

“Beskar blocks the Force. There are special alloys with a lower concentration of beskar made for Force sensitives”

“It does? But then why would…” It occurred to him that his dreams weren’t as severe when he slept with his buy’ce.

“Val ru’kar’taylir bal ru’ne’vaabir rejorhaa’ir ni'' They knew and did not tell me he murmured in disbelief. Why didn’t she tell him or make him a better beskar’gam? The stab of betrayal spread through his veins, his back aching in phantom pain. He wanted to throw something, anger bubbling up in him like lava, hot and dangerous. Kote placed a hand on his and the lava flowed into Kote leaving him empty

“It’s alright. I’m sure they had a reason” He said but the simmering outrage inside Kote remained. Grogu, the Empire wanted them for the same reason, maybe she was protecting him. The sting of lies and betrayal faded to a throb as he thought it over

“The Empire wanted Force sensitive children,” he said, his voice empty. It made sense now. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath in pain.

“Are you alright?” Din asked and Obi-Wan nodded though he was still massaging his temple, his blue eyes found Din’s through the visor.

“How about I teach you how to shield? You might not feel as overwhelmed as much” he suggested and Din stared at him

“I can’t be a jetii, I’m a Mando’ad” He declared, his heart conflicted. The wrongness of becoming a jetii an enemy of Mandalore and his ingrained fear of his new and unknown powers conflicted with the instinct - that may or may not be the Force - telling him that it’s right, almost nudging towards that path. His thoughts flickered back to the confusing jetii’kad that Grogu gave him, the blade felt like a part of himself.

oOo

9 ABY - 7986

The Razor Crest was floating in empty space while Din tried to get his bearings and figure out potential allies after the mess on Nevarro. Rage boiled within him at the thought of that demagolka Gideon wanted his child. He sighed, lifted his helmet just enough to pinch the bridge of his nose when the cries of the child registered. They were their usual ‘I want attention’ cries but this time they were quite forceful and determined. Din set a course to a random backwater planet and jumped the Crest into hyperspace. The child was wailing now so Din climbed down the ladder to see what they wanted.

The child was sitting on a box, regarding him with intelligent eyes. Not a sign of their earlier distress

“What’s wrong adi’ka?” he asked as he stepped closer to examine them. Fierce determination radiated from their posture as their face adorably scrunched up in concentration

“Protect” Din sucked in a breath at the sudden thought that entered his mind, it was definitely not his. He sank down to the floor in shock and regarded the ad in wonder, his hands shook.

“That… that was you adi’ka?” he asked, his voice giddy with excitement. He finally had a way to communicate with the child to understand them, love swelled inside his chest. The child huffed in annoyance and concentrated some more

“PROTECT” They shouted in his head and Din’s mind almost ripped in half from the force of it. He took a steadying breath and held up a hand to stop the ad from doing it again but louder. A headache was beginning to form

“Alright, adi’ka. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to protect you” he said regret filling his voice. What kind of a Mandalorian can’t protect a child? The ad mewled in irritation cutting off Din’s destructive thoughts and pointed a shaky claw at him while glaring at him like it was his fault for not understanding. It was adorable and Din’s heart melted at the sight. Din furrowed his eyebrows in confusion once he puzzled out the message the child wanted to convey

“You want to protect me?” he asked in mild horror. The child smiled and nodded vigorously, ears flopping around like a dog as they began to shuffle around. Din’s heart ached in sorrow at their lost innocence

“Oh, cyar’ika” he breathed out, failing to keep his emotions out of his voice “I can protect myself. It’s not your responsibility,” he said as he gently reached out to lay a comforting hand on their shoulder. The ad’s big dark eyes gazed at him with confusion their ears down turning before scrunching up their nose in determination

“Promised” Din tightened his hand in worry and sighed

“Who?” The child gazed at him with sad yet knowing eyes as they pointed another shaky claw in his direction and Din recoiled in shock

“Me? I - I would never ask you to promise anything like that” he said incredulously he would never burden a child with such a promise. The ad’s eyes turned somber at that, their expression the most serious he’s ever seen and it disturbed him to his core. What has this child gone through?

“Too young” They declared their ears drooping with exhaustion and through the haze of confusion Din reached out to steady them. What did they mean he was too young? His mind was filled with more questions than answers from this strange conversation with the child. They finally pulled a cylindrical object out of the many folds of their robe and pressed it into Din’s hand

“Gift” they whispered weakly in his mind before collapsing in his arms. Din stared at the child, sleeping peacefully and then the object in his hand.

“Oh adi’ka what have you gotten yourself into?” he said voice laced with barely suppressed pain before leaning down and pressing his forehead to theirs

“Vor entye adi’ka” he murmured before tugging the snoring bundle into their hammock and shutting the door.

He studied the cylindrical object in his hand. It looked like a hilt of a weird sword, at the top four metal pieces were surrounding the inner part of the hilt like a crown. There was a band of shiny metal that appeared to be beskar curving around the middle of the hilt, two small buttons were nested on the side of the band. Below the dark leather grip at the bottom of the hilt was a cap painted vibrant orange. The leather was worn and fraying in some places and the beskar had some scorch marks on it.

He gripped the hilt and it slid into his hand perfectly, with a burning curiosity he thumbed one of the buttons. The sudden hum and light had him almost dropping the weapon. An orange blade materialized out of the hilt humming with glee and lighting up the interior of the hull with a soft orange glow. Din stared at the weapon with shock, he hadn’t seen anything like it in his life but strangely the weapon seemed to recognize him. It was singing to him Din realized, happiness pouring out of the weapon in waves, how he knew he had no clue. He gave it a slow experimental swing entranced by its joyful orange glow. It was strange the blade itself had no weight so his balance was off and he gave it another swing. The blade cut through the air fluidly humming with delight. Giddiness bubbled up inside him as he gave the weapon a good twirl. The blade hummed with the joy of long lost friends reuniting and Din laughed with the blade. Beeping broke Din out of his feedback loop of happiness barely loud enough over the humming of the blade. Din sighed, gifted the blade one last twirl and gave it a long longing look then thumbed the off switch. The blade died down leaving the room oddly dark and quiet. Emptiness he didn’t notice before registered for the first time in his life. He clipped the hilt to his belt and climbed up to the cockpit just as the Razor Crest lurched out of hyperspace.

oOo

22 BBY - 7955

Someone was talking through the haze that surrounded Din. His memory was clearing and he was in the medical bay of an unknown ship. He blinked in confusion

“Beroya?” The man at the end of the bed asked his brows drawn in concern. The ginger man placed a hand on his, Din jumped

“Did you have a vision?” He asked. His head cleared slowly; he was on a Republic ship, he was 44 in the body of his 12 year old self and he had the Force. Kote was at the end of his bed sat by his leg, Helix was standing behind Kenobi the jetii who just offered to train him. He sighed

“No, just a memory,” He thought back to the vivid memory he just remembered, he had a jetii’kad. Did he get one in the past? Did he give it to Gorgu? Why didn’t he keep it? He stared at his hands in confusion

“Beroya, teaching you how to shield doesn’t mean you have to become a Jedi,” Kenobi said reading his doubts, Helix hummed behind him. Din lifted his head and gazed at Obi-Wan

“But I have the Force?”

“There are many sentients who have the Force and are not Jedi”

“Oh,” he was quickly realizing that knew so little about all of the Force osik stuff. Right now, despite his instincts insistence otherwise, he did not want to abandon his Mandalorian heritage but he needed training to understand his powers better and to be able to protect himself when push comes to shove. He looked at Kenobi his helmet wobbling on his head

“I’ll accept your offer” Kenobi sighed in relief and Kote patted his leg, pride radiating off of him. Kenobi turned to Kote

“Cody make sure everything is set up” Kote nodded, gave Din a smile, and left the room Helix leaving with him

Kenobi gestured for him to stand and sit opposite him on the floor

“So, have you meditated before, young one?” Obi-Wan asked once Din had settled into a comfortable position. He shook his head

“Close your eyes and feel the Force around you. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly” Din followed Obi-Wan’s instructions calming his mind and letting the familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of the Force into him and wash over him. He gasped, he could feel Obi-Wan sitting across from him, his mind similarly calm but he was the brightest presence on the ship. He could also feel Helix shuffling around with some medical equipment next door and the thousands of different yet similar beings on the ship all glowing in his mind’s eye and moving through their duties like a well-oiled machine. He could pick out Kote’s light from among the rest, he was a warm, strong and steadfast presence, the one he would associate with a good leader or parent.

“Good, now imagine laying a wall between yourself and the rest,” Obi-Wan murmured from the outside, barely audible. Din slowly began building the wall in his mind, brick by brick reinforcing it with beskar along the way. Gradually the lights dimmed and their emotions that he’s been picking up quieted to a hum. His own emotions, now easier to separate, were clearer and easier to control from the absence of thousands of other emotions. He felt Obi-Wan pull away so he slowly climbed his way to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, his chest lighter since he woke up in the past. He breathed out a sigh of relief. And his stomach rumbled. Obi-Wan who was already on his feet smiled good naturedly at Din and held out a hand, Din grabbed it and let him pull him to his feet.

“Vor’e” He thanked Obi-Wan

The door swished open and Helix walked with Kote right behind him carrying a big bag in his hand. Din tilted his head in question, putting a hand on his helmet to stop it from banging against his skull. Obi-Wan smiled at Kote.

“Oh good, you’ve got it” Kote grinned with excitement, his presence enveloping Din. He looked at the bag curiously as he sat back on the bed, legs swinging in anticipation. Kote hefted the bag onto the bed with a low grunt.

“We did the best we could,” Kote said as Din peered into the bag. His heart stopped. There was a whole set of beskar’gam made out of plastoid in the bag. He picked up the buy’ce cradling it in his hands in wonder tracing the edge of the T-visor with his finger. The design was like the armor Kote and his brothers wore but smaller, tailored to his size. He placed the buy’ce aside then lifted each piece out with care and wonder, each piece was snow white - Cin Vhetin - the color of a new beginning, it was fitting he mused silently. He laid them out on the bed in the traditional way he was taught as a child, admiring the full set.

“You could paint it if you want to,'' Helix suggested as he stood behind him. Din tilted his head in thought he never felt the need to paint his armor, then when he got the full beskar set and it didn’t feel right to paint it, the unpainted beskar showing his penance for almost becoming dar’buir. Now though he could imagine the swirling patterns of various designs on the white surface.

“I’ll think about it” he murmured then he hesitated for a moment before turning to Kote. “Uh… could you leave?” He asked and embarrassment coated his voice, Kote nodded in understanding and they quietly left the room. Once the door was shut behind them Din unclipped his red robe, folded it neatly and set it aside, and pulled on the black flight suit that came with the armor. Then he clipped each piece on with familiar ease of weaning armor his entire life and tightened the belts where he felt the plastoid slack. It fit surprisingly well to his new thin lanky frame. The plastoid was lighter and more flexible than his beskar of his previous beskar’gam and he’ll have to adjust to that. He gripped the helmet in his hands and stared at his new face with an odd sense of disappointment, something wasn’t quite right with it but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, it would be better than Kote’s too big bucket that wobbled precariously every time he moved his head. He lifted the bucket off his face and glanced around expecting the room to transform into an Imperial cell but it stayed mostly the same. Not wanting to chance another episode he placed his new buy’ce on his head. The slight hiss as it connected was a comfort he forgot he needed, he sighed as he finally felt safe in his own skin. He knocked on the door harshly to signal Kote and the others that he was done. Kote and Helix walked in and Din tilted his head in confusion

“Where’s Kenobi?” Helix shrugged

“He had to go up to the bridge since we’ll be rendezvousing with the 501st soon” he explained and Kote mock glared at his brother. Din held out Kote’s bucket and he grabbed it his hands shaking slightly

“Vor entye, Kote,” He said gratefully as tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. The warmth from Kote grew as it enveloped him like a hug. He beamed at him while Helix looked between them with a confused frown.

“You’re welcome Beroya” He clapped him on the shoulder still grinning

“How about we grab some food,” he said as he dragged him out of the room he’s been in the past few days. Din’s heart sped up.

“I can leave?” he asked with confusion. He was under the impression that he was a prisoner even if he was a nicely treated one. Helix who was following behind them sucked in a breath

“Of course you can,” he said with some incredulity. Din shrugged half heartedly

“I thought since I attacked your men that I would be a prisoner” He had to keep a tight hold on his new and fragile shields so as to not get swept away by the violent flood of Kote’s and Helix’s emotions.

“Well, at first you were” Kote admitted scratching the back of his neck and Helix shot him a look

“Oh” Din sighed, Kote held up a dramatic hand

“But! You were hallucinating and you apologized and you haven’t given us reason to treat you a prisoner since” Kote explained hastily and warmth spread across Din, he hummed and examined the hallway to distract himself from the strange emotion. The hallways, while similar to an Imperial ship at a first glance, had enough of a different feel to them that Din could differentiate the two. Troopers were walking about hurrying to their destination, some gave Kote a salute and smile, while others did a double take at the sight of Din. Their stares did not affect him since he was used to them when he had the full beskar beskar’gam. There were a few who huddled together and whispered something to the others, no doubt the gossip train had started already. Din sighed, the gossip amongst the Covert was bad since most of them never left the sewers of Nevarro but it may reach a new level of horrible since he was the center of the latest gossip.

They arrived at the mess hall quicker than he expected. Clones were in large groups around the tables, their chatter and the clatter of utensils echoed throughout the entire room. The tables were long white and organized into neat rows though some of the benches were askew and the shouts of rowdy bunch cut through the background noise. Din’s mind tried to puzzle out a way to escape eating but Kote grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cue, once he realized Din was lingering in the doorway. Din sighed. He stared at the small selection of food, mostly ration bars and some instant meals that were even less appetizing.

“Don’t tell me you’re just as bad at eating regularly as the General,” Helix joked from next to him. Din did eat less than he should. The fact that he couldn’t remove his helmet in most establishments and that he was reluctant to spend more than the bare minimum on food since most of the money went to the Covert and the foundlings - all of that meant that he skipped a few meals here or there. Helix raised an eyebrow at him, a mean scowl on his face at Din’s silence.

“Well, I-” he began to explain himself when Helix held up a hand

“The Force and meditation are not adequate replacements for food and sleep damn it!” Helix ranted as stacked 5 ration bars and some goop onto the tray, Kote snickered

“General Kenobi would argue,” he said with a smile

“The General can kiss my shebs” Helix grumbled with some ire and Din blushed then he remembered Helix’s earlier words

“The Force can be used that way?” he asked in wonder, wishing he knew a better way to stay awake at the countless long sleepless nights he had while hunting. Helix whirled around pointing a finger in his face with a glare, scowl still present

“Forget I said anything” He declared dramatically with a long sigh. Kote was snickering in the background while Helix kept grumbling to himself. Din followed after them knowing that he won’t lose them since he could pick out Kote’s warm presence in the crowd but it felt better to keep them in sight

“I only ate enough to sustain myself because the Covert needed the rest of the credits,” He said the urge to explain himself to Kote and Helix was strong. They reached a relatively empty table and Helix pushed the tray of food towards him as soon as they sat down. He stared at the food with trepidation and Helix sighed

“There is no shortage of food here Beroya” Helix gestured to the food, chewing on a ration bar himself “So eat” Din sighed

“I can’t” He bit out after a moment of hesitation. Helix and Kote exchanged a concerned look and he got the distinct impression of Kote wanting to hug him

“Why not?” Kote asked. Din looked down shamefully at his hands, he already broke the Creed several times first to save Grogu but that was fine since foundlings came above all else. But now so many people had seen him, not just without his buy’ce but without his beskar’gam so can he even be called a Mando’ad? Who was he if not a Mandalorian? His thoughts circled around that question so he clung to the traditions that would reject him in a vain attempt to define himself

“I can’t remove the helmet,” He said, eyes still locked on his hands. He felt the spike of concern, irritation, and shock from Kote

“Who told you that?” his voice was low and angry though not directed at him still he flinched slightly

“No one. This is the Way” he echoed, the once comforting words felt wrong and hollow coming from his mouth.

“The Way?” Helix asked his voice returning to the gentle prod he used earlier when he thought he was dreaming

“The Way of the Mandalore. I can’t remove my helmet in front of any living being or I become dar’manda”

“But you didn’t have a helmet before Cody gave you his” Helix’s voice was gentle and he could feel Kote stewing next to him

“Exactly, I already broke the Creed” He couldn’t say it out loud that would make it real and he was already hollow and directionless. The Covert would certainly not accept him back now if he could even find them

“That’s bantha shit!” Kote exploded and Din’s head snapped up to him

“What?” He whispered and his voice shook in bewilderment

“You just didn’t have a helmet when you got here! What if someone removed your helmet if you got captured? What are you supposed to do then?” Kote ranted “Besides, having a helmet does not make you Mandalorian. Then the vode wouldn’t be Mando’ade” His face was red from anger, Helix nodded along a similar expression of outrage on his face and Din stared at them in shock. Anger not directed at him radiated off of the both of them. Din’s heart swelled with an unknown emotion as he looked back at his food

“I…” he was at a loss for words as Kote deflated

“I’m still not comfortable removing the helmet,” he declared after a moment of silence. His mind whirling with shock. Both of them nodded in understanding

“We understand Beroya” Helix said

“But if you ever feel comfortable enough know that we won’t judge you” Kote finished. His heart squeezed in gratitude and warmth filled him, Din ducked his head.

Kote and Helix returned to their bland meal and Din glanced around the noisy mess hall. Troopers were talking boisterously, some slapping each other on the shoulder or arm as a show of comredradie. He spotted a few not so subtly ogling him but he ignored them. They felt happy and unrestrained. So when the back of his neck prickled with the usual sense of danger Din was taken aback and whirled around a second too late. The punch landed squarely on his bucket, rattling his head for a moment. The trooper had no paint on their armor and sported a mean scowl on his face, Kote sprang up from his seat growling at the trooper

“Slick, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Slick ignored his commanding officer and only sneered at the stunned Din anger rolling off of him in waves.

“You attack our men and then you have the audacity to wear our armor!” He said with disgust. The easy going chatter around them died down to a hushed whisper as everyone stared at them. Kote walked up to Slick with a furious expression and his voice was barely restrained, hard with the promise of violence

“Stand down Sergeant” He ordered. The order fell on deaf ears as Slick glared at Kote with no fear besides the tide of righteous anger

“No sir” he ground out “Don’t you see that he’s just another nat-born pretending to like us, to be one of us” He gestured to the rest of the clones

“Ni ceta” Din apologized as he stood, wobbling slightly on his legs. Slick sneered

“Oh, now he speaks our language too.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm “What’s next? You gonna paint your armor like us too? Is stealing our language and freedom not enough for you?” Slick accused loudly venom filling his voice and being

“Stand down Sargeant! That’s an order!” Kote bellowed his voice echoing throughout the silent mess hall. Din straightened feeling the anger rise in him at the unwarranted accusations

“I am a Mando’ad and I do not steal anyone’s freedom” He declared his voice steady and sure, his earlier doubts gone for the moment.

“Yeah, right” Slick huffed and raised his hand for another punch. Kote had enough and with a swift move restrained Slick bending his arm around his back painfully. He gestured for two clones their armor painted orange and handed the seething Slick over to them

“Maybe a few hours in the brig will teach you a lesson” He nodded to the two clones who dragged Slick away who was still glowering at Din with hatred.

“Alright boy fun’s over” Kote declared to the spectators and the rest of the troopers slowly returned to their meals though the chatter was more subdued than before

Kote sank back into his seat with a tired sigh and Din followed soon after. His mind still reeling at the pure hatred Slick directed his way like he was the cause of all of his problems. But before he could ask Kote why Slick hated him so much, two clones sat at their table, one next to Kote and one next to Din. Kote sighed in irritation and glared at the two clones while Helix snickered

“Waxer, Boil, what are you doing here?” Kote asked, his voice and posture tired with all the bantha shit that happened since Din left his room. Waxer was looking at him wearily from across the table and Din tilted his head in question. Boil, appearing to not have the same hesitation looped an arm around Din’s shoulder and grinned at him. Both Din and Waxer tensed.

“So you’re the verdi’ka who beat up Waxer,” he said with a good humored smile, Din tensed his shoulders. Kote gave a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Din opened his mouth to apologize again

“If you’re here to cause trouble...” Kote began

“Oh, we’re not assholes like Slick” Waxer chuckled relaxing slightly, Boil grinned and nudged Din

“Waxer was just too scared to ask the verd’ika for a rematch,” Boil said with a sly smile. Waxer rose and hit Boil across the table his face red with embarrassment

“I’m not!” he squeaked out, Kote tried to wrangle the two brothers to calm down and Helix was outright cackling now while Din stared at the chaotic scene in confusion.

“Why?” he blurted out and the chaos around the table as they stared at him. Waxer seeming to overcome his fear looked at him

“Because you’re good and it’s nice to spar with someone new,” He said earnestly

“Hear, hear” Boil chanted as he lifted his drink. Din looked at them both finding his instincts or the Force were telling him that they weren’t lying so Din agreed with a nod

“Sweet, sparring room 5 after the mission?” Waxer said vibrating in his seat with excitement

“Calm down vod’ika” Helix chastised and Din shrugged his heart soaring at the thought of a good spar since all his recent fights had been life or death situations, it’ll be nice to let out some steam.

“Sure” he agreed with a hidden smile. Waxer cheered, Boil rolled his eyes in fondness and then they soon left after that whispering amongst themselves in excitement. Kote turned to Helix with a raised eyebrow

“You were batchmates with them right?” Helix grinned mischief entering his eyes

“Yeah Waxer and Boil were always a chaotic duo”

“Batchmates?” Din asked curiously both of them tensed and stilled, fear spiking in them for a second but then it was replaced by humor again

“Batchmates grew up together, they were usually decanted in the same batch of 5” Helix explained, Kote was still tense though

“Like brothers,” Din said

“All the clones are vode but yes in a way batchmates are closer” There was a smile in Helix’s voice and Kote seemed to shrink in on himself a haunted look crossing his eyes but before Din could ask if he was alright his comm beeped with a message. Kote grinned and stood all, his fear disappearing instantly, Din tilted his head curiously

“Come on Rex’ika will be here soon,” He said with mirth, Helix stood and Din followed. Helix tossed him a ration bar with a scowl, Din fumbled to catch it

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you haven’t eaten today” he grumbled and Din gulped. Instead of answering he redirected the conversation away from himself

“Rex’ika?” he asked as he followed Kote since he wasn’t told to go back to the medical room

“My vod’ika” Kote grinned “He’d love to meet you”

“Really?”

“The 501st and General Skywalker are a rowdy bunch so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Helix said with a grin. Din paused, stunned the jetii who took Grogu away was younger than him so he shouldn’t be here unless he was near human and aged slower. Din snapped out of his musings when he felt the presence of Kote and Helix move away, he jogged to catch up with them.

“General Skywalker?” He asked a bit winded, Helix chuckled at that

“He is one of the best Generals in the GAR besides Kenobi” he added at Kote’s mock glare

“His plans may seem reckless but he has the fewest losses in the entire army. Rex is certainly not bored under him” Kote said with a proud smile

“At least he doesn’t lose his lightsaber every other battle” Helix teased, Kote sighed in exasperation

“Don’t remind me” he grumbled, Din watched in fascination. Helix left for the medbay about halfway to the hangar. They arrived at the hangar soon after that. It was busy, the engines of the landing LAATs and shuttles deafening, hundreds of troopers all decked out in blue armor were milling about the place, chattering amongst each other and greeting the troopers with orange paint enthusiastically. Kenobi was in the middle of the action directing the troopers and the landing crafts. But before they could reach him a clone with a blue pauldron and jaig eyes painted on his helmet approached them. Kote grinned

“Rex’ika” he exclaimed and enveloped the clone in a hug, relief flowing through him, the blue clone returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Once they finished greeting each other Rex glanced behind Kote where Din was standing suspicion in his frame

“Cody who’s this?” He gestured to Din, Kote grinned

“This is Beroya. We picked him up on Aq-Vetina” Kote introduced him proudly and Rex did a double take

“Beroya? I thought you took a shiny under your wing, not a cadet” Rex said his voice filled with incredulity, and Din bristled

“He’s nat-born Rex’ika,” Cody said with a glare to challenge Rex’s protest. Alas Rex was too oblivious to notice

“Why is he here and why is he wearing our armor?” There was no disgust or contempt in his voice instead he radiated confusion as he stared at Din, Kote shrugged

“Because he needed one and General Kenobi wanted him here” Din stared at Kote with a raised eyebrow as he sensed Kenobi approaching with a man behind him. The man was so bright, like a supernova it took him a second of squinting under the helmet’s sensors to really make out his features. He was tall and imposing, growing messy brown hair and wearing black battle armor and robes.

Din staggered back as the image of the man was replayed in his head. Suddenly he wasn’t in the hangar. He was in a large temple, tall spires casting long shadows in the dark night. Everything was dark and muddy even the air was suffocating, heavy with death and tragedy. Terror sliced through him as the screams of the ade tore through the peaceful setting. Blue flashed across the dark sky before another life joined the thousands screaming in agony. The dark robed demon cut through the children with ease, his golden eyes flashing with hatred and fury.

The temple morphed around him with sickening ripples. He was clutching something important to his chest running as fast as he could. Run away. Protect. Hide. He kept chanting. The shadows around him grew, eating up the low light of the moon leaving behind nothing but cold dead darkness. Out of the darkness, the demon materialized, golden eyes dead to the world yet filled with bottomless hatred. Blue flashed across the hall and orange rose just barely to meet it. The colors clashed, their usual magnificent harmony tainted just out of tune. Blue left and with vicious force came down on the weakening orange again and again like a rabid dog. Another violent clash, the orange now sluggish waning in the darkness that surrounded them. Still, it rose to meet every single violent strike with determination. Then the blue cut through the orange with a brutal strike. It fell into two on the ground. The orange light died out with last pathetic sparks. The darkness eating it alive

Din cried out in terror.

#fanfic #star wars #din djarin #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #time travel #the mandalorian #found family #baby yoda #chapter 2 #mandoa #visions #grogu #writing

28 notes · View notes

obwjam · 3 years

Note

#17 with a shrunken Obi-Wan or Anakin?

“Is this size permanent?”

i’m doing anakin and using my oc for this because obi-wan deserves a win

from this post

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

Nobody knew what had just happened.

The Separatists were always trying out new weapons, but when Anakin held up his lightsaber to deflect the weird blue laser that was headed straight for him, he didn’t expect his body to start aching and his vision to go blurry. He was knocked off his feet, and a sharp ringing in his ears made him squeeze his eyes tight until it stopped. He could hear people shouting... but they all sounded miles away.

Anakin took a sharp breath and sat up straight, blinking rapidly as the scenery started to take shape around him again. Everything was a lot darker than it was before, and a lot more devoid of color, too. He rapidly moved his head around. This was certainly not the flat field he was fighting in before.

“Obi-Wan?” Ankain called out. Nothing. “Rex?” He tried again, louder this time. Still nothing. “Ahsoka?!” It felt like he was screaming into a pillow. He thought he heard someone yell his name back to him, but everything still sounded muffled. Was he in some kind of alternate dimension? Could the Separatists do something like that? Was he dead?

“Anakin?”

A clear voice shook him from his trance.

“Jayla? Is that you?” he yelled back. Anakin couldn’t discern any of his surroundings, much less where the voice was coming from. The more he strained his eyes, the heavier the weight of the world felt around him.

“Anakin? Anakin! Are you okay? What happ... holy kriff.”

It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. Jayla, the best friend he had known forever, the one who was small enough to curl up in the palm of his hand, was standing right in front of him.

Right at eye level.

“Anakin... what...” she started, almost too afraid to move closer. If Anakin thought he was hallucinating, Jayla certainly had him beat. But the blue weapon... its strange energy... it all made sense now.

“Jayla? Why are you... how...”

“Anakin... it’s not me.” Jayla could barely get her words out. “That weapon... it… you’re...”

“Are you saying that weapon shrunk me?!”

Jayla flinched. Even at such a diminished height, seeing Anakin get mad was concerning. He scrambled to his feet, and suddenly everything became clear. It was dark because he was surrounded by tall grass. He felt anxious because the sheer size of everything around him was weighing down on him heavily. Those voices sounded far away because they were.

Jayla cringed at the panic that was clearly engulfing Anakin. She could marvel at this later. Right now, she needed to help.

“Ani... you need to calm down,” she said softly, slowly making her way over to him. Okay, maybe she could marvel a little bit. He looked so different up close. So much... older, and worn down.

“You want me to be calm when I’m stuck like this?” he cried, throwing his hands up. Up. Up was so far away now. Treetops that were once a leap away were now impossibly out of reach. “What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to fight? Is this size permanent?”

“First of all, I resent all of that. Second, we need to find Obi-Wan and get back Coruscant so we can--”

“Obi-Wan?! No. No way.”

“Are you kidding? Please don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“More like embarrassed,” Anakin sighed, rubbing his eyes. “He can’t--I don’t want him to see me like this!”

“Oh, you’d rather make this awful muddy field on this backwater planet your permanent home, then?”

Anakin sighed. She was right, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

“The sooner we get off this planet, the quicker we can… fix you,” Jayla said. “It’s freaking me out too, you know.”

“How do you live like this?” Anakin asked. “I mean, I’ve always wondered, but actually experiencing it...”

“Please,” Jayla rolled her eyes. “It’s been like two minutes.”

“So? That’s way more experience than I ever thought I’d get.” Anakin took a moment to look himself over. He was still holding his lightsaber and his clothes had shrunken with him, so that was a positive. He felt normal, albeit a little dazed. He could still walk, talk, breathe. Everything was fine. He was just... tiny.

“How are we supposed to get to Obi-Wan from down here?” Anakin asked, completely serious. Jayla stared at him as she held her arm up and pointed to her wrist comm.

“Oh. Right,” Anakin blushed.

“I think that weapon did some brain damage,” Jayla muttered as she turned the comm on. “Obi-Wan? Are you there?”

“Jayla? Where are you? Have you found Anakin?”

“Yeah, I found him…” she tapped a few buttons to transmit her location. “Just watch your step.”

“As always,” came Obi-Wan’s garbled voice before the comm beeped off.

“How long till he gets here?” Anakin asked, a tinge of panic to his voice as his eyes scanned the horizon.

“I don’t know,” Jayla shrugged. It was alarming how strongly she could sense his fear. “Look… it’s gonna feel really overwhelming, having another person loom over you. But don’t worry, you just have to--”

“--I feel fine,” Anakin grumbled.

“I know for a fact that you don’t.”

Anakin looked at Jayla, and he finally took in what was in front of him. From his normal perspective, she usually looked spry, alert and energetic. He had never noticed the scratches on her face and the bruises on her legs before. Her blue eyes were the brightest thing in this dingy atmosphere. She was way more muscular than he would have ever guessed.

“I’m taller than you.”

Jayla blinked. “What?”

“Even when we’re on the same scale, I still got a few inches on you.”

“You are actually unbelievable,” Jayla shook her head, biting back a smile. She stared at Anakin for a few moments, neither of them needing words to say what they were thinking. Her stomach dropped, though, when a long shadow passed over them and Anakin’s eyes grew wide.

“Jayla?” Obi-Wan took a knee high above them. Anakin gulped. “Where’s Anakin?”

Jayla didn’t say anything; she just glanced to her side, where Anakin was frozen in place. It took Obi-Wan a moment, but when he saw, he gasped.

“Anakin! What in the -- what happened?”

“It was that Separatist weapon,” Jayla answered, knowing Anakin wasn’t going to speak. “The bright blue one.”

“That’s impossible… how could they have developed technology like this?”

“I have no idea. But we need to get out of here before they get anyone else.”

“I agree.” Obi-Wan couldn’t take his gaze off Anakin. Anakin was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. Wordlessly, he put his palm down next to the two.

“Let’s go,” Jayla said quietly, too soft for Obi-Wan to hear. Anakin glanced at her before warily walking to Obi-Wan’s open hand. He cringed when he stepped on.

“This is humiliating,” he mumbled.

“Grab the thumb. You’ll balance better.”

Anakin scoffed. “I am not touching his thumb.”

“Obi-Wan, Anakin refuses to touch your thumb,” Jayla said, holding back a laugh.

“Well, I hope you have good balance,” Obi-Wan said, trying his hardest not to smile at the sight of Anakin nearly falling over when he began to stand. “I must say, Anakin, you look adorable down there.”

Anakin glowered at him with the ferocity of a thousand suns, and this time, Jayla couldn’t hold back.

“Ani, you really need to relax,” she said between giggles. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re very adorable at all.”

“I hate both of you,” Anakin sneered. “So much.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

As they made their way back to base, Anakin finally got over himself and leaned over Obi-Wan’s thumb like a railing as the field he once ran through with ease whizzed by.

“What’cha thinking?” Jayla asked, scooting up next to him.

Anakin smirked. “I can’t fly my ship anymore.”

“Hey, I don’t even know how to fly!”

“Everyone’s gonna see me like this. Rex, Ahsoka, the council…”

“Trust me, the council isn’t nearly as imposing as you would think.”

“...I’m gonna have to tell Padmé.”

“Oh.” Jayla cleared her throat. “Yeah, that one might be awkward.”

Anakin said nothing. Jayla slid closer, rubbing shoulders with her friend. Obi-Wan glanced down, trying to make out what they were saying.

“Someone’ll fix this,” she reassured. “I don’t know who, but the Seps wouldn’t have done this without having a way to reverse it.”

“Oh, good. Let’s just find Dooku and politely ask him to make me normal again!” Anakin snapped.

Jayla looked away. There really was no getting through to him when he was upset about something. Only this time, it wasn’t so easy to ignore him. He was right here with her. It suddenly hit her why she felt so uncomfortable -- she had never been in a position to truly console anyone. Sure, she offered wisdom and support when it was needed, but she always got the feeling that her advice didn’t carry the same weight as it would if she were a normal height. Normal. She really wished Anakin wouldn’t use that word.

Anakin stole a glance at Jayla. Maybe being snide with her wasn’t the best idea when she was all he had down here.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “This is just… this is a lot to deal with.”

“I know,” Jayla sighed. “I shouldn’t tease you.”

“Eh, I deserve it,” Anakin said. “We all know I never let up on you.”

Jayla huffed a laugh. “Yeah.” There was a long pause before it was clear that neither side was going to continue the conversation. Slowly, Jayla wrapped her arm around Anakin’s shoulders and squeezed.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispered. Anakin put the lightsaber he didn’t even realize he was holding back on his belt before reciprocating her gesture. Jayla smirked. “Wow. So this is what it feels like.”

“What what feels like?”

“A hug.”

Anakin turned to her, surprised. “A hug?”

“Would it surprise you to know that I have never once been hugged?”

“Well, yeah, it would,” Anakin said, looking hurt. “Because you tell me everything.”

“I tell you the things you’ll understand,” she corrected. “Being tiny in a giant world means you have to be okay with missing out on basic human experiences. Things like, hugs and holding hands and sitting in a chair around a big table eating dinner together. Just… talking to someone, without constantly being on edge and feeling like you’re being watched.” Jayla fell silent for a moment. “I know it’s wrong to say, but, I’m glad you’re here with me. Like this. It feels… a little less lonely.”

“Even if we’re being carried around by Obi-Wan on a gross Outer Rim planet?”

Jayla snickered. “Especially that. You don’t think this is familiar territory? I’ve fallen asleep more times in this hand than you have next to Padmé--”

“Alright, I get it,” Anakin cut her off, his face a light shade of red. “I wish I had picked up on it. A-about you feeling so… isolated.”

Jayla shrugged. “I do a good job of hiding it. There’s nothing you would have been able to do, anyway. Hugging a finger is nothing like… well…” She let out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“No, no. I’m glad you did.” Anakin smiled. “It feels like I’m talking to a completely different person. You’ve been my best friend since I started training, and it’s like I’m just meeting you for the first time.”

“Well, I hope you really like me, ‘cause this is what you’ll be stuck with for a while.”

“I’m gonna have to find a new nickname for you that’s not Tiny.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t want you using all your brainpower on me! You need to save it for other things. Like Force jumping from the floor to the table instead of from the ground to the top of a kriffing mountain.”

Anakin opened his mouth to retaliate, but didn’t get the chance before Obi-Wan stopped walking. “This is our stop, kids,” he teased. He immediately made eye contact with a frantic Rex and waved him over.

“General Kenobi! Did you find--” Rex stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was in Obi-Wan’s palm. “Um. Sir...”

“Don’t look so surprised, Rex!” Anakin called out, trying to ignore just how big he was. “I’m trying out a new look.”

“Sir…” Rex said again, unable to tear his eyes away. He had finally gotten used to Jayla being around. He couldn’t do it all over again.

“Staring is rude, Captain,” Obi-Wan remarked, sensing Anakin’s discomfort. Rex pursed his lips and quickly looked away. “We’re going to take my starship back up to the Resolute. I suggest you round up the 501st and tell General Yularen that we’re heading back to Coruscant.”

“Yes, sir, right away, sir,” Rex stammered. He spun around on his heels and jogged away to meet his men.

“Well,” Anakin said. “That was awkward.”

Jayla huffed. “Welcome to the tiny experience.”

“Master!” another voice called out. This one belonged to Ahsoka, who had only caught a fraction of what Rex was trying to explain before deciding she had to see it for herself. She was panicking that nobody had been able to find Anakin after he jumped in front of that weapon. Rex had said something about him being with Obi-Wan… but she didn’t see him. Yet.

“Anakin!” she said in shock when she finally saw. She bent down, wide-eyed, and Anakin appreciated the fact that she wasn’t just gawking mindlessly. “What happened?”

“Some sort of new Separatist weapon,” Anakin answered before mumbling, “I’m really gonna hate having to say that a thousand times.”

Jayla glanced up behind her back as Ahsoka fired off questions. The usually snippy Obi-Wan had been surprisingly devoid of quips about Anakin being smaller than a Zilkin. Something was not right here.

“Ahsoka,” Jayla cut in, noticing how irritated Anakin was beginning to look. “Why don’t we go and get Anakin’s starship back up to the destroyer? Since, you know, he can’t do it himself.”

“Funny, you just said “we” there, and last time I checked, you can’t fly either,” Anakin joked.

Jayla smirked. “Oh but see, the difference there is that I don’t care.” She flashed one last mocking smile at Anakin before jumping off Obi-Wan’s hand and landing perfectly on Ahsoka’s shoulder. Anakin stared in disbelief. That leap looked impossibly far.

“Will you be okay, master?” Ahsoka asked, sensing Anakin’s anxiety. He nodded without a word. Ahsoka knew it was time to leave.

Obi-Wan waited until the ship was a speck in the sky before turning his attention fully on the tiny Jedi knight in his hand.

“You’re very anxious, Anakin.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Gee, and why would that be, master?”

“I just mean…” Obi-Wan sighed. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words. “I’m worried. This is completely uncharted territory. I don’t have an inkling as to how the Separatists would have made a weapon like this. There might not be a solution.”

“Yes, there is,” Anakin shot back. “We are going to find a way to fix this. I don’t care what it takes. I’m not staying like this forever.”

“Anakin--”

“What, Obi-Wan? What do you want me to say? That Jayla can live like this, so why can’t I? She’s lived like this forever. I… I haven’t. And I can’t. They need me.”

“They?”

“Rex! Ahsoka! The 501st! Jayla! You! I can’t be who I need to be if this is what I am.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip. Fear and distress were clouding Anakin’s rationality.

“Anakin, listen to me. We are going to do everything in our power to get you back to normal. That I can assure you. But you need to stay calm. It could take days, it could take months. We simply don’t know. But if you let this consume you, you’ll be going down a dark path.”

Anakin crossed his arms, acting like he wasn’t listening to a word of what Obi-Wan was saying. He was right. Anakin was afraid. And pretending not to be afraid was even worse than feeling afraid in the first place. Right now, he couldn’t be more grateful to have someone like Jayla on his side.

“Let’s get back to the destroyer,” Obi-Wan said once he felt Anakin’s shaking subside. “We can get started in the medical bay.”

Anakin sighed and sat down, ready to embrace the weirdness of leaning on someone else’s fingers.

It was going to be a long trip back to Coruscant.

#this was so much fun to write #i have never done size swap before or anything of the like and now i think im obsessed #such interesting things to explore #also wow i dont normally end stories on such dour notes but #im in my feels today #star wars g/t #obwrites

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sarcastic-bubble · 3 years

Text

Running

Paring: Obi-wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

CW: It's pretty agnsty...

Summary: Reader ran away years ago and was content in her new life but one day and old friend shows up. A much longer sequal to the drabble "I'm to sober for this."

A/N: I promised angst anon, and there is no lack of it here. I'm just not sure this is what you wanted when you sent me that ask. P.s if any other anons out there got some suggestions for me to write hit me up.

Masterlist

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

In the darkness, you fled from the only life you had ever known. You fled from the council you were meant to face in the morning, and when the one person who could have helped you begged you to stay, you fled from him too. Through all the fear that clouded your mind, there was only one thing you could understand, the need to run.

----

The warm glow of morning sunlight danced across your face waking you from your restless sleep. A yawn escaped your lips. You took your time getting out of bed, hoping that whoever needed your attention would leave before you made it to the door. It was your day off and you'd be damned if anyone was going to ruin it for you. Upon opening the door you were quite pleased to find the other side devoid of life, outside of the numerous local plants that filled the small plot of land you got to call your own. It had been a mess when you arrived. The small cottage you were now living in had been nothing but two vine-covered walls, the rest of it had fallen down years before. You frequently thanked any god that would listen for your ability to use the force. Without it, rebuilding would have been impossible alone. A growl came from your stomach pulling you back to the present. You had been planning on returning to bed but thoughts of food crept into your mind. You padded over to the kitchen humming a happy tune to yourself. You methodically opened every cabinet looking for something that looked appetizing but unless you planned to eat whole caf beans you would have to look elsewhere. You pursed your lips and mumbled to yourself as you weighed your options. There was always a chance something in your small garden was ready, but that was unlikely. The pests had forced you to tear everything up and replant only two months ago and even then your garden hadn’t been very fruitful. You could always go into town. It was only a ten or so minute ride on your speeder bike and a guarantee of delicious food. Another growl of your empty stomach settled the matter for you. You dressed quickly, your outfit practical but most importantly comfortable. You slung your dark leather bag over your shoulder. You rifled through the bag making sure you had enough credits with you. Almost ready to leave you reached for the lightsaber resting on your nightstand. You sighed as your fingers closed around the cool metal of the hilt. This was the only remnant of the life you had run from and you never left home without it. You placed it carefully into your bag and stepped out the door.

----

You were greeted with friendly smiles and waves as you sped through town. Your destination was easily found. You parked your speeder bike in one of the many open spots surround the large building. This place served as a village center of sorts and served many functions but all you cared about was the common room that could be found once you entered the front doors. The smell of cooking food wafted through the open doors and drew you in.

A pale orange Twi’lek stood behind the bar. She had just finished brewing a new pot of caf when she noticed you walk in. “(Y/N)!” She shouted. “Get over before the caf gets cold!”

“Good morning, Koyi,” you replied with a grin as you slid onto one of the free bar stools. You had become friends with the Twi’lek since coming here, her friendly smile and easy-going manner was enough to convince even the grumpiest of hermits that maybe a few friends were okay.

Before you could ask for it Koyi was placing a steaming mug down in front of you. “You know,” she started, “I hadn’t expected to see you today. When Kendrig came in earlier he had said you took quite the beating from some bandits yesterday.”

“And let me guess, he made it sound like he did all the work?” you asked with a laugh. You took a sip of the hot drink in front of you. Kendrig had been another friend you had made upon your arrival. Before you, he was one of the few that was any good with a blaster so the protection of the village fell to him. Now you worked together to keep everyone safe from the small group of bandits that insisted on making everyone’s’ lives more difficult.

A plate full of steaming eggs and meat was set down on the counter in front of you. “He said he had to save your ass more than once,” stated Koyi with a laugh before placing a fork and knife next to your plate.

You turned your attention to the meal and eat happily. It was delicious as always and despite all your practicing still much better than anything you could cook. As you ate you listened to the conversation around you. The common room was always a busy place and today was no exception. Various conversations filled the room and you mentally picked through them until you found one that interested you. You knew eavesdropping was a bad habit. That had been made very clear to you in your padawan days but bad habits are always the hardest to kick.

“You’re looking for a Jedi?” you heard one voice ask, it sounded confused. You weren’t sure who it belonged to but it sounded like one of the many old men who spent their days in this room laughing and drinking.

“Yes,” replied another man. That voice, it was so familiar and warm. You dropped your fork and it clattered against your plate. That voice! It couldn’t be, but it had to be. Just hearing that voice brought up so many memories you had actively suppressed since running away.

“And why? I’m not about to sell out one of our own to a stranger,” the old man grunted. You gripped the edge of the bar so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Well,” started the stranger, though he was hardly a stranger to you, “You could say I’m an old friend of hers. I’ve missed her for a long time now and just wish to talk.

You had to leave, you needed to get out of here and find somewhere to hide. If he found you then you would have to stop running. You would have to face the fear that was buried so deep inside you. You would have to acknowledge the life you left and everything you left behind and you refused to do that. “Koyi, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, as usual,” replied the Twi’lek looking up from the mug she was washing, “everything okay? You look worried.”

You brushed off her concern, ”I’m fine.” You stood and grabbed your bag from its place on the floor. You turned quickly on the balls of your feet expecting to see the door and the escape it offered. Instead, an all too familiar figure now stood in front of you. His face was partially obscured by a dark brown hood but that didn’t matter. There was only one man this could be. “Obi,” you quietly gasped.

Large hands grasped the sides of the hood and pulled it down to rest on his broad shoulders. There were so many emotions flooding your mind at the sight of his face. The first was love. After all this time you still loved him, you had never doubt that. Another was confusion, why was he here? The most prominent, however, was fear. You wanted to run.

“(Y/N), I’ve missed you.” His voice was quiet as he spoke and the way he looked at you spoke of the many nights he had spent longing for this reunion with you.

You avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but him. “Why are you here?” The question came out colder than you had meant. All it took was a glance to see the hurt in Obi-wan’s eyes.

“I’ve come to see if you want to go home.”

“This is my home now,” you stated harshly as you shoved past him. You couldn’t be here anymore. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt this man but you had come here to avoid your past, you had come here to run from all the things that scared you, and while facing him that was impossible. You heard footsteps trailing behind you as you left the building. You purposely walked past your speeder bike and only stopped when you reached a rather secluded part of town. If he was going to insist on talking to you at least you had some privacy this way. “You know I can’t go back, Obi. There’s nothing left for me there. This is my home now,” you said, your eyes watching the horizon in front of you.

From behind Obi-wan gently rested a hand on your shoulder. “You may not be able to return to the order, but you can return to Coruscant.”

You turned slowly until you faced him. “No, I can’t.”

His expression was pleading as he spoke, there was the same desperation in his voice that you had heard the night you ran. “Yes, you can. I’m not leaving without you.”

“I don’t think you understand. I’m a fugitive, if I return I will be tried for every damn crime the senate thinks I’ve committed.” Your voice was filling with its own desperation. You had to make him understand. If you ever went back the fear would overwhelm you and you would just end up running again. “And if you think you can protect me from the senate, you’re wrong.”

Obi-wan’s hands firmly grasped yours. You had forgotten how much you missed the feeling of his touch. If only things had been different. If only you had been a better Jedi. If only you were brave enough to face the fears you ran from. If only so many things had gone differently. “Are you happy here?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose this is goodby?”

“I suppose it is.” Tears were forming at the edges of your vision and it everything you had to keep them from falling.“Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

His familiar chuckle made your chest hurt. You wanted to be with him, you wanted to follow him home and love him again, but your fear of what might await you down that path was much greater. “You’ve taken up drinking then?” His rough thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged, “It turns out I really was too sober for all of this.” You gestured around at nothing in particular to make your point. “Please don’t tell anyone where you found me.”

“No one will hear about this place,” promised the Jedi Master.

“Goodbye, Obi.”

“Goodbye.” With that, the man’s back was to you and he was walking away. You wished you had the strength to tell him to stop, to go with him, but you couldn’t and you didn’t know if you would ever be able to. The tears rolled silently down your cheeks as you watched him leave and deep down you hoped this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #request #well sorta

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damn-stark · 4 years

Text

Something more Pt.2 ~ Anakin Skywalker Imagine

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!reader

Request by anon: “❝ you really don’t understand how much you mean to me, do you ? ❞ with anakin Skywalker pls!!!!”

A/N- here’s the second part to this imagine, hope you guys like it 👉🏼👈🏼

Warning- ANGST, fluff

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

———

“Be by my side y/n. Join me.”

In a slow and careful movement you extend your hand to his, your fingers barely touching and his smile widening with hope, the darkness still overwhelming and covering his whole being. Just as you were going to give your hand to his someone exclaimed from behind you, making Anakin pull away and for a scowl to appear.

“Stop!”

You quickly pull your hand away and look back to see Obi-Wan walking out of your ship.

Anakin’s gaze turned to you and then to Obi-wan, a burning glare directed at you for reasons you didn’t understand, using a rougher voice you didn’t recognize, “liar!”

Not daring to look back at obi-wan you quickly deny Anakin’s accusations, “No!” Staying grounded as Anakin stormed towards you with that same burning glare that would also be be directed to Obi-wan who’s eyes you felt on you.

“You brought him here to kill me.” Anakin seethed.

“No!” You looked back to Obi-wan and shook your head, pleading him with your eyes instead of with words to avoid more problems. “Obi-wan leave!” Anakin extended his arm out again, only this time it wasn’t to ask for your own but to use the force against you, to do the one thing he promised never to do.

You tried to fight away his hold, but he was ten times stronger than you were, making your attempts fail and feel a closure on your throat, the air unable to go in or out of your lungs, causing you to grab at your neck for the invisible force choking you.

“Anakin let her go!” The sound of Obi-wan protesting Anakin’s notion sounded so distant even if he was a couple feet away, you couldn’t check if he was coming any closer, but it was something you were able to identify as Anakin kept looking up at his former Master.

“A-anakin” you tried to plead, words surprisingly coming out as you struggled for any small amount of air.

Said man glared at Obi-wan one last time before letting you go and making everything going black as he did.

—

“Come on hurry.” Anakin pulled you forward, quickening his pace before he turned a sharp corner into a dark and obscure hall.

“No, Anakin this is too risky.” You giggle as he pushes you to the wall, “the council could see us, or even worse my brother can.”

Anakin caressed your cheek, his smile showing by a distant light slightly basking his face, “step.” He corrected.

“Same thing.”

“I don’t care they can all see.” He moved in, closing the small gap that had been left, his soft lips capturing yours for a deep kiss, your own smile slipping and felt through said kiss.

“Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” You say when you break away, letting your thumb ghost over his lips before you cupped his cheek. A gesture he leaned into.

“You really don’t understand how much you mean to me, do you?” He whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips before he rested his forehead on yours, “they could all see the love I have for you, they could see that two jedi in love doesn’t change anything. We are still loyal to the order, we are still the same. Nothing has changed.”

You smile sweetly, “I love you, Anakin. And if it meant we could really be together, then I would let them see that we are something more than what they tell us to be. That loving someone is’nt going to change anything. Because it hasn’t.”

“We are something more.” He mumbled before pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I love you.” You whispered happily.

—

“Anakin.” You shot up, your eyes instantly searching for him to only find no one, not even Obi-Wan, only seeing the lava that seemed to surround the planet.

Quickly you pushed yourself up, using the force to guide you towards Anakin, the feeling that something was wrong weighing down your heart. Millions of thoughts rushing through your mind, worry and guilt, confliction, all things that you weren’t supposed to be feel.

Only appealing the offer Anakin had proposed to you about joining him. At least there you could be with him....

The feeling of Anakin got stronger every second. Just like the feeling of Obi-Wan. Both guiding you to the same spot. Stars...

The worry and pit in your stomach worsened the deeper you traveled into Mustafar, the more you saw nothing but hills and lava. The sounds of distant screams setting you to break into a sprint, the sight of Obi-wan coming to view down the hill making you slide down to him, only to spot...Anakin on the ground burning, his legs cut off, the face you had last seen unrecognizable, his once soft blue eyes turned into a sith yellow. That bad feeling you once felt becoming into a sad reality.

Once Anakin set eyes on you, he reached his hand to you, “Y/N!” His scream sounded pained, it tugged at your heart, made tears roll down your cheeks at the sound and at the sight of him.

“No, Anakin!” You attempted to go towards him, but Obi-wan was quick to pull you back, stopping you from saving your husband from the brink of death.

“No let me go! I have to save him!” You cried whilst trying to fight his hold, “Obi-wan please! I need to save him!”

“No it’s too late, theirs no saving him.” Obi-wan tried to explain, in many ways without having to say it showing that he cared for you, “we have to go.”

You look back to Anakin who was still trying to reach his hand to you, the feeling of saving him not fading even if he didn’t look like the man you had fallen in love with.

“Please he needs me.”

“He’s dead y/n. Anakin is dead.” Obi-wan began to pull you away regardless of your protests. “We have to go.”

“No Anakin is right there, he needs me. Please, I love him.” You beg, that comment making Obi-wan briefly stop, something that made you gain the upper hand and pull your hand out of his grasp to quickly rush down towards Anakin.

“Y/N! Don’t follow him or you’ll end up like him.” He tries to walk towards you, but you freeze his movements using the force.

“I can save him.” You try and reassure him, “I can.” Letting Obi-wan go he no longer walked towards you or tried to fight your actions. He knew what would happen, he knew that it would be a manner of minutes before “Anakin” would die. So he let you. Let you attempt to save him even if knew it was impossible. Anakin was dead. “I love you brother, but I can’t lose Anakin.”

Obi-wan stayed silent, watching as you turned around and went down towards Anakin. Getting one last look at you before he left, before he never saw you again.

“I’m here. I’m here.” You muttered to Anakin, even if you had no clue how to help. You looked back to where you had last seen Obi-wan but he wasn’t there anymore.

Even if that made you upset you shrugged it off and focused back on Anakin, being careful to not hurt him even more, trying to find a way to save him. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”

At sound of approaching footsteps you looked back to see if it was Obi-wan returning, but when you noticed the familiar white helmets of clone troopers, and the cloaked being that you now recognized as chancellor Palpatine, you pulled out your lightsaber.

Watching as he approached you activated it and revealed a blue blade, an action that didn’t bother him.

“Stay away from him.” You warn.

Palpatine chuckles, unthreatened by your saber pointed at his neck. “I want to help him. Or can you? Do you have a solution on how to?”

“No, but be assured that I will.” You growl.

“And to do what? Live your life running? Hiding? At my side you’ll both be together, do what you want and rule a galaxy. Prove that former Jedi can be what that weak council never could.”

You glanced back at Anakin, knowing that you had nothing to save him, that he would die without help, that what Palpatine proposed was true. As much as you tried to view it otherwise.

But what would Obi-Wan think? What would he say?

“He left you and him to die. He doesn’t care about either of you, why should you care about him.”

You tear your eyes away from Anakin and glare at Palpatine for what he said, for reading inside your mind without you even knowing.

“Join me and you’ll be together, isn’t that what you want?”

Deactivating your saber you hang it back at your side, looking down to Anakin and crouching next to him to show him a faint smile, “you’ll be okay soon I promise...we’re finally going to be together. I’m joining you.”

A/N- THIRD PART?!?

#star wars #anakin skywalker #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #starwars #fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin imagines #obi wan #revenge of the sith #anakin imagine #anakin x you

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rentsturner · 4 years

Text

A Clean Break | Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary: Obi Wan invites you to the gardens in the dead of night, he has something to tell you. Cue the feelings.

Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Mentions of sex.

Word count: 1.8k

a/n: I hope you enjoy this, pls tell me what you think!!

(not my gif)

The Jedi gardens were quiet. Silent, even. The dead of night had slowly crept in, darkness chasing away the warm and peaceful bustle of the day. Moonlight cast shadows across the serene space, shapes of strong branches and curving stems dark against the paved pathways. Some light filtered into your hidden corner of the garden, brightening the dim space with an eerie glow. Usually, you would find the moonlight pleasant, comforting even, but tonight it only helped to churn the nerves in your stomach, as Obi-Wan’s stoic expression was illuminated.

You were worried. Obi was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. This wasn’t unusual - Obi was generally quite placid around you, calm in your presence. You used each other as an escape from the chaos of battle and politics that plagued your lives as padawans. But Obi had been especially subdued since Qui-Gon’s death just over a week ago. It’s understandable really. You knew he partly blamed himself for the murder. He needed time to grieve the loss of his master and the time the council had given him was just not enough. This was Obi-Wan’s last night as a padawan. He would be made a Jedi Knight in the morning and take Anakin on as his apprentice, just as he had promised Qui-Gon.

You remembered how he had rushed into your quarters a few nights ago, making sure you were the first to know the news, his face stretched into a grin as he embraced you happily. Seemingly, the happiest he had been in days.

But the glimmer of sadness and guilt in his cerulean eyes was unmissable, pain and regret unmistakable in the tremor in his hands as they moved over your body when he gave himself to you that night.

He needed time to grieve.

But it was still unnerving now, the way Obi seemed like he was in a completely different world. He had told you to meet him here tonight, at your secret spot that you had used to hide from prying eyes for years. This little alcove held so many memories for you, right from the start of your relationship until more recent times. But now that you were both here sitting opposite each other, the conversation that once flowed so easily was gone, replaced by a stifling silence. You hated it. Only days ago, everything had seemed fine. But now something was wrong.

Obi had obviously brought you here for a reason. You tried to search his face, looking for answers, but he was so hard to read. The furrowed brows, unkempt hair, a restless hand running over a few days’ stubble - a stark contrast to the happy, cheeky boyfriend that lit up your world every day.

His eyes darted around the dark garden as if searching for something to look at, anything other than you. He was nervous maybe. His hands fidgeted, plucking daisies from the ground and picking the petals from them. His fingers would lunge forwards sporadically, then quickly retreat back, almost as if he wanted to envelope your palms in his but had to stop himself. He hadn’t looked you in the eyes once. He was hiding something.

“Obi.”

His head jerked up, surprised at the break in the silence.

“What is it? Why did you bring me here?” you asked softly.

Obi glanced away. Do it now! his mind screamed. Just say it!

A clean break, that’s what he’d been telling himself the past few days, slowly working himself up to this moment. This moment that he was dreading with every fibre of his being. The moment he had to let you go.

Your thoughts were running wild, trying to think of any possible explanation for Obi’s behaviour. With every passing second, your heart filled with dread, a sense of foreboding overwhelming you.

‘Obi, I’m worried. What is it?’

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He had to say it, he had to get it out. He didn’t want to prolong your suffering, no, Obi never wanted to see you hurt. It had to be quick, like ripping off a band-aid.

A clean break.

‘I- I have to tell you something.’

He tried to speak, to let that dreaded sentence pull your whole relationship down in one fell swoop, but nothing came out. The words were there, spinning in his mind and bubbling in his throat, yet the only thing that escaped Obi’s mouth was a choked sob.

Memories of the times you had shared flashed through his mind. Hours spent laughing in the sun when you both had a day off duty. Bare legs tangled together as you lay in his bed, whispered ‘I love you’s’ and tender kisses. Braiding each other’s hair with daisies and roses, here in this very spot, your hidden corner of the gardens.

Obi’s anguish only intensified. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

‘We can’t be together anymore’

Those dreaded words. Your heart stuttered in your chest. Deep down you had known this was coming. Two Jedi in love? It was prohibited by the code, frowned upon and warned against. But you hadn’t expected the fall to come so soon.

A wave of sadness rose up through your body, threatening to overcome all your senses and engulf you in sorrow, but you pushed it back down with your last remaining strength. You could still stop this.

‘Obi, we can get through this, I know we can. We’ve survived for this long, haven’t we?’

You searched his face for something, anything to show you that he was still there. Your hand moved forwards to clasp his and for a moment, just a moment, his fingers gently squeezed back, your palms fitting together like they always had done.

Then Obi’s head shook almost imperceptibly and he pulled his hand away. The moon was covered by a passing cloud and your alcove fell into darkness. A sudden chill forces its way through your robes and you shiver.

‘I can’t let anything cloud my judgement now. I have Anakin to protect.’ Obi’s voice is raised slightly, whether it’s in anger or pain you don’t know.

‘I’m sorry, my lo-‘ he stops himself. ‘I’m sorry.’

Despite his firm tone, you can see the glimmer of guilt in his eyes, how his heart is breaking with every word that leaves his mouth.

Obi tries not to think about how, with every passing second, he’s moving inevitably closer to the moment you’ll leave, and he’ll be left alone.

A clean break! The voice in his head continues to taunt him. But he can’t help himself.

His arms are thrown around you suddenly, grabbing your cloak with shaking hands, and his face is buried in your hair. You can feel his tears, warm on your skin.

He’ll allow himself this, one last moment. Something to remember you by.

Obi’s body trembles, wracked with sobs, but his cries are muffled by your hair.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him impossibly closer and you try to will away your growing confusion. Your fingers grasp at his robes, trying to ground him, trying to let him know that it’s okay.

Maybe he didn’t mean it. He’ll say he’s sorry now and this silly nightmare will be over. You can tell him that it will all be fine. You live happily ever after.

The sobs recede.

It’s quiet again, the silence occasionally punctuated by a ragged breath clawed from Obi’s chest as he calms himself. You can hear the faint trickle of a fountain from across the garden and it calms you a little. Everything will be fine.

The sky is empty now, dark clouds chased away by the wind and the moon shines down undisturbed.

Obi pulls back from your neck slowly and you look up to smile at him and run your fingers through his hair comfortingly, as lovers do.

But your heart breaks at the sight of his face.

His expression has hardened, gaze steely, no sign of any emotion in his blue eyes.

In that moment you knew that your Obi was gone. His walls were up now, vulnerability locked away securely and pushed deep down. Where his force signature had once been a strong beacon of warm yellow in your mind, there was now only a distant blue link. It felt clinical, like Obi had taken your bond, your relationship, and severed it neatly with a scalpel.

You knew that Obi had been hurt and now, naturally, he was trying to protect himself. And even more than that, he wanted to protect you. Just as honourable as ever.

‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was calm now, sincere, but curt. ‘You’re better off without me. I wish you all the best, you’ll make an incredible Jedi one day.’ A polite smile. Always the gentleman, Obi Wan Kenobi.

You let the sadness swallow you now and the tears ran freely. You fled. The garden held no fond memories for you now, only sorrow and pain.

Obi watched as you turned and ran back to your quarters, leaving him for the final time. Inside, his heart was shattering into millions of pieces, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t cry and run.

Obi loved you. He loved you more than anything and that was the problem. Qui-Gon had warned him about what would happen if he grew too attached, but that was in another time, another life, back when Obi had been young and naive. He hadn't listened. He hadn't cared.

But now Qui-Gon was dead. And he was different. Obi Wan pushed the lingering memories away. Even entertaining the thought of them would send him spiralling into more pain. The guilt, the regret, it already ached in his limbs and filled his chest, weighing him down. He couldn’t imagine what anymore anguish would feel like. He would crumble.

But Obi had a feeling that he would never be free of the pain.

You’ve done the right thing, Obi thought to himself. You will learn to live with the pain, just as you will learn to live with the guilt.

Tomorrow he would no longer be a padawan. He would become a man, a Jedi Knight. And he must follow the code. There would be no more tragedies if he just followed the code.

And so Obi Wan sat, seemingly peaceful on the outside, broken on the inside, in the dead silence of the garden that was once your special place, trying not to think about the life he could have had with you, the memories he could have made.

He couldn’t afford any more distractions. A clean break.

{tags: @doublesunsets @afogocado @corellians-only @stardancerluv @rosionis @kuailiangs @kaminobiwan @snips-n-skyguy0501 @crazycatladyjenga - please tell me if you do/don’t want to be tagged}

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan oneshot #my writing #star wars #ewan mcgregor #userkarina

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 14

Prompt: “I didn’t mean it”

Part 2 of Hell in Hoth

Read Part 1 here

Read on AO3

The Ground is My Halt

The Force feels wrong. Obi-Wan wrong. Without explaining himself, Anakin breaks out into a run and Rex reacts instantly. The mouth of the tunnel is just ahead, and as they run the figure of Obi-Wan comes into view. His saber is drawn, arms pulled back in the classic opening position of Ataru, which is the first clue that something is wrong.

The second is their old training bond tightening with such force it nearly makes Anakin trip over himself. Master? He says through the bond, and Anakin's chest tightens.

"Obi-Wan?" he yells, trying to get his attention, but his former master's eyes just widen, and his arms go limp. His lightsaber clatters to the ground, and Obi-Wan follows soon after, his lips moving but nothing that Anakin can make out. "Obi-Wan!"

He grabs Obi-Wan by the shoulders and turns him over so he's lying on his back. "I'm fine," Obi-Wan gasps, his pupils blown and glassy. "I'm okay."

Anakin looks up as Cody comes running. "What happened?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing!" Anakin gripes. Obi-Wan's chest is rising and falling shallowly, wheezing with every breath. "It sounds like his lung collapsed." Anakin slips his hand from behind Obi-Wan's back to get a better grip but the dark red that now stains his glove catches him off-guard.

"Turn him," Rex says, also seeing the blood. They carefully flip a half-unconscious Obi-Wan onto his side, and Anakin draws in a breath at the sight of a quickly spreading stain of blood soaking through his parka. He curses under his breath, grabbing his saber and cutting through the material of the coat. What it reveals makes a new rush of anger slip through.

Pieces of fabric-- pieces of his tunic, it appears, though they are bright red instead of beige now-- hang sloppily off a wound in the center of the right side of his back.

"Why didn't you know about this?" Anakin asks Cody, not bothering to filter his annoyance. It's not the commander he's mad at-- it's his dumbass master who definitely tried to hide this without telling his companion.

"I don't... I don't know, sir," Cody says, muted. Anakin immediately regrets his tone, but he has no time to deal with that. From the blue tinge of his lips, Obi-Wan may not have time.

"We need to get him back to the ship!" He grabs Rex's busted commlink and pulls his own off his wrist. It was also broken in their fall, but Anakin assumes there are enough parts between the four of them to do a quick fix. It takes him only a few minutes to rewire the comlink, using the intact speaker of his and the localizer of Rex's. He hands it back to Rex. "Call for evac."

__________

It doesn't take long for the med unit to reach them in the ice lab. Cody stands out of the way, watching a Kix and Helix carefully load General Kenobi onto a stretcher and strap an oxygen mask across his pale face. Skywalker is pacing, and Rex is running alongside Kix, probably explaining the situation.

That should be me giving the brief, Cody muses, following behind them. I was with him.

Skywalker's harsh tone hit Cody harder than he expected it to. Usually, he is immune to the curt words of the temperamental Jedi, but the intensity he looked at him is what seems to be weighing on him. The slanted stare that is usually directed at their enemies suddenly aimed at him.

He's scared, Cody reminds himself. It's quite obvious that the Jedi aren't always good at practicing what they preach, and the Hero-Without-Fear or whatever the holonet likes to call Skywalker have obviously never met the kid. When it comes to Kenobi or Tano, there is only fear. Understandably so. Even Cody was thrust into a panic when he saw his general crumble. He didn't know if there were enemies hiding somewhere and managed to snipe him, or if the lab had been rigged. But now, the wound was already scantily dressed, and now Cody just keeps racking his brain as to what could have happened.

Why didn't you know about this?

They were falling. The ship became unbalanced and they fell from what felt like one end to the other. Cody knows Kenobi managed to use the Force to cushion his fall, but maybe... maybe he didn't use it for himself?

It sounds preposterous, but a part of him isn't surprised. General Kenobi is well known for having more regard for others than himself. Even when it comes to the clones. No matter how dispensable they are by principle, he never cared. It's why he's so respected, so fiercely beheld by his men.

Cody wonders how they would react if he didn't come back. They're in the evac ship, crowded around the stretcher while Kix and Helix try their best to stuff sterile bandages into the wound. Skywalker stands in the corner, arms crossed and face hardened, but his eyes are unfocused. He is somewhere else entirely right now. Rex puts a hand on Cody's shoulder but says nothing. Cody prefers it that way. If General Kenobi doesn't come back, it would be his fault. He knows that.

Everything happens in a blur. They get back on the ship and General Kenobi is whisked away before the gunship even has a chance to fully land. The urgency of their actions doesn't escape Cody. He watches them solemnly as they disappear in the direction of the medbay.

Focus, he shakes away the thoughts of Kenobi on the operating table. The mission. The lab. A science lab in the middle of Hoth is not something they see every day, and he suspects it can't be for a good reason. The blood was proof enough of that.

Distracting himself will do him some good, The least he can do is his duty. He heads to the bridge to deliver the scan of the lab to report to the Jedi council.

"Commander," a voice rings out hesitantly. Cody stops and turns to see General Skywalker standing a few meters away. He salutes.

"General, what can I do for you?"

Skywalker walks up to him, his eyes seeming to attempt to gauge his emotions, but buckets don't show emotions and Cody is thankful for that.

"What did you find in that tunnel? What was all that?" His tone is more sedate now. More normal but still obviously filled with worry.

"A lab, I believe sir. I'm about to take our findings up for briefing if you would like to join me."

Skywalker nods, and they start walking to the bridge. Cody can feel the strange tension around them-- he doesn't have to be Force-sensitive to pick up on that fact. Maybe Skywalker is still cross with him. Blames him for what happened. Cody looks down at his comm, expecting a blinking light containing an update on Kenobi's condition. His commlink remains stagnant.

"I uh," the general says, quietly at first. "I'm sorry, Cody. I was worried about Obi-Wan and... I didn't mean it."

An apology is not what he expected. Cody looks at him, not exactly sure what to say here. "No apologies, sir, I should have been more vigilant."

Skywalker scoffs. "Now you sound like him. Really, though. It wasn't your fault. He's pulled that stunt on me more than once. I don't know where he got so good at hiding stuff like this."

"I hear it's the secret to becoming a master," Cody says without really thinking about who he is talking to. It's a joke he has with the med crew because of the Jedi's propensity for recklessness-- and now he's just said it to Skywalker. I've been spending too much time around General Kenobi... Cody stiffens, looking at the Jedi Knight expecting a new reason for anger, but instead, he's smiling.

"Didn't realize you had jokes, Commander," he laughs.

"Senses of humor are part of our programming, sir."

It's a pleasant diversion as they reach the bridge. The Jedi council is already on the holo, and Cody's moment of relief is renewed by the many pairs of eyes that now watch him and Skywalker carefully. Cody sets the holoscan into the projector and begins his impromptu presentation of their findings.

__________

When Obi-Wan awakes, there is a tube in his chest and a mask over his face. His body is sore and still feels like it's defrosting. He reaches up to take off the mask, but his goal is stopped by the hand of his former padawan obstructing his pathing.

"Not yet," he says, and Obi-Wan begrudgingly lets his hand fall back to his side. "You are on O2 therapy for another ten minutes."

"What happened?" he asks, his words muffled significantly by the oxygen mask but Anakin seems to pick it up well enough.

"Oh I don't know, why don't you tell me? And while we're at it, we can discuss your field-medic abilities because honestly, Obi-Wan, they're horrendous." Anakin sighs, his emotion deflating. "You had a puncture wound that shattered one of your ribs. It was fine until you irritated it and a piece of your rib punctured your lung and caused some internal bleeding."

"Oh," is all he can say in response. That all sounds about right.

"That's not all," Anakin says. "The lab. We tested the blood on the floor and..." he lets out a deep breath. "It had a midi-chlorian count, Master."

Now Obi-Wan is determined. He reaches up, ignoring Anakin's pleas to leave the mask alone. He needs him to hear this clearly. "We must find Jenna Zan Arbor."

Anakin winces at the name. Rightfully so, she captured and poisoned him with a horrible drug that basically entrapped him within his own mind.

"How do you know?"

He slips the mask down to his chin. There's no point now. "I don't know if it's her or a copycat, but she's done this before," he swallows hard. "On Qui-Gon. Bloodlet him so he would have to use the Force to preserve himself."

Anakin takes a deep, labored breath at that information, sitting back in the chair beside Obi-Wan's bed. His gaze is far away, no doubt in the remembrance of his experience under her spell. Zan Arbor tends to have that effect on them-- suddenly they are padawans once again, trying hard to defeat an enemy that is not so easily beat with the blade of a lightsaber. The worst part of the delusional scientist is that she is cunning. She escaped the prison Obi-Wan helped put her in and has proceeded to evade them ever since.

Obi-Wan puts the mask over his mouth and nose once again, taking a moment to replenish himself.

"So we find her?"

"Yes, I believe that is our next step."

Though neither of them says it, they both know the thoughts of the other: this is not going to be an easy reunion.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday14 #i didn't mean it #part 3 coming out tonight or tomorrow!#depending on how productive i am #Obi-Wan Kenobi #cody #anakin skywalker #rex #jenna zan arbor

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cagestark · 5 years

Note

Prompt; ABO Starker getting together but Tony is the omega and Peter is the alpha. Peter is still head over heels, star struck, hero worship over Tony and calling him 'sir' and 'mr. Stark' and blushing wherever Tony gives him attention and praise. Maybe it all comes to a head when Tony goes into heat? Maybe Peter's first rut is triggered by Tony teasing him mercilessly? Bonus points for eager-to-please Peter

Darling anon, this isn’t really what you asked for. I’m so sorry. I hope this is at least acceptable, and if you are very upset, please come back into my inbox and I’ll rework this. For now. Take it!

Warnings: ABOverse. Alpha Peter, Omega Tony. Smut. 8.5k

Read here on AO3!

Peter is reaching with his fork for the last arancini when another fork intercepts. The metal on metal screeches as Peter’s fork is pinned to the plate just short of the last rice ball. Peter eyes the hand holding the fork—tanned, knuckles singed—and then follows it up the arm, bare, sprinkled with dark hair interrupted by the odd, pink scar. Before he even reaches the well-shaped facial hair, Peter is flushed, withdrawing his fork. Tony is wearing his glasses tonight, the lenses tinted a light blue.

“Put down the fork and nobody has to get hurt,” Tony says. He keeps his voice a low, conspiratorial rumble that can just barely be heard over the ruckus of general conversation from the rest of the Avengers around the table.

Slowly, Peter puts his fork down beside his half-eaten plate of osso buco, then lifts his hands to shoulder height, palms open. “My hands are where you can see them,” Peter says. He lets his voice tremble. “The rice ball is yours. But please don’t take the rest of the prosciutto. Have mercy.”

Tony spears the arancini and delivers it to his own plate for safe keeping, a bear hoarding food for the winter. “Bold of you to assume I’m capable of mercy, Peter Pan. And to add insult to injury—” Tony slips the last few slices of dry-cured ham bliss to take up cozy residence beside the rest of his food. Peter clutches at his heart, face twisted in pain.

“God, you two are like a two-man theatre troupe,” Natasha remarks over her third glass of wine. She’s just beginning to look flushed. Peter had asked for his own glass (“Come on, I’m eighteen, not eight!”) but to no avail. “Does that make seconds for you, Tony?”

“Thirds,” Bucky mutters. He hasn’t recovered from the spaghetti alla carbonara massacre of thirty minutes ago. If Peter didn’t know how well the ex-assassin got along with Tony, he might try to convince the older man to sleep with one eye open. Bucky certainly had the whole casually-planning-your-murder-over-trivial-offenses aesthetic going on. Peter wondered if that was something teachable—did they have a wikiHow article for that?

“It’s that time of the year,” Tony says. Despite how much he’s eaten, he still goes about the food on his plate in a methodical, prim manner: cutting it into bite-sized pieces, making sure no foods touch. “Jarvis tracks my eating habits and BMI, and he says both are on the upswing. I’ve got about two weeks left.”

“Two weeks until what?” Peter asks.

Tony gives him a bald and unashamed look. “Until my heat, kid.”

“Oh,” Peter says, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. He’s got permanent foot-in-mouth disease whenever he’s within twenty feet of the omega. Of course, Tony is talking about his heat. Why else would he be eating enough for three?

“I thought you took heat suppressants,” Natasha remarks. This kind of talk—heats, suppressants—it usually isn’t table conversation. Most omegas consider it the ultimate social faux paus. Maybe Tony does too, Peter wonders. Maybe spending so much time in the public eye has chipped away at the wall between what he wants to keep to himself and what he has to share with others.

“For the spring heat,” Tony agrees, a hand resting on his gently distended stomach. The sight of that tickles something in the back of Peter’s brain—something in there itches, but he can’t find it, can’t scratch it. “But at my age, the suppressants don’t synthesize with my biology as well. Doc told me it is actually safer for me to go through every other heat au naturale. Which makes for an interesting fall season. At least I can hide the extra weight with all those winter scarves the board keeps giving me for Christmas—”

“You look great,” Peter says. He tries hard not to openly wince. Everyone else at the table does their best to pretend they hadn’t heard him.

Tony’s smile is soft, maybe even a little flattered. He winks. “Thanks, Peter Pan. Nice to know someone around here still thinks I’ve got it.”

Oh, you’ve got it alright, Peter thinks helplessly. Probably couldn’t lose it even if you tried.

“Isn’t it dangerous to go through your heats without suppression?” Bruce asks.

“We’ve weighed the pros and cons. Calculated risks, Brucie, that’s the name of the game.”

“You know what all of this means?” Steve asks. Beside him, Bucky stiffens. The only other male omega—in the room and in the Avengers—he is not nearly as comfortable with his designation as Tony. Peter can hardly blame him when a part of him is still stuck in the 40’s when omegas were marketed as good for nothing but breeding and housewife fodder. With most heats coming twice a year, in the beginning and at the end, surely Bucky’s is approaching also— “Tiramisu is in order.”

Bucky relaxes. Tony perks up. Peter’s stomach grumbles—even after his own generous helpings.

“Cap, that’s the best idea you’ve had since—well—an hour ago, when you suggested Italian. All for tiramisu?”

A cluster of forks rise into the air.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The kid. He’s a beta, right?”

“He has not presented otherwise.”

“That’s not exactly an answer, is it?”

“…”

“J?”

“I believe he is a beta, sir.”

“Your confidence is downright stirring, J.”

“Always a pleasure to give, sir.”

“I mean, it’s not unheard of, right?” Peter asks. He is sandwiched between Ned and MJ on his bed in his room at the tower. It was just another benefit of joining the Avengers: a fancy new room on the Avengers’ floor, coffee with Captain America in the morning and eating peanut butter out of the jar with Natasha at night. The bed is huge—and okay, maybe he’s still just used to the twin he occupied at May’s, but it’s still nice to fit all of his friends on it at once to watch movies on the mounted television. “Relationships. Between betas and omegas.”

MJ gives a longsuffering sigh, one which makes Peter frown. Yeah, they’ve had this conversation a few (million) times before, but she could at least humor him, couldn’t she? “Stark is a male omega. They’re super fucking rare, Peter. Alphas literally kill over omegas. The competition for him even if he wasn’t Earth’s Greatest Defender and a fucking billionaire—it’s extensive. Why would he choose you when he could find a dozen beefy Captain-esque alphas to satisfy his biology?”

“Okay. But. It’s not impossible, right? That’s what I’m hearing. That it’s not impossible.”

“Mr. Stark would be lucky to have Peter,” Ned says. “I mean, yeah he’s not as buff as Captain America. Yeah he doesn’t have pheromones that attract Tony on, like, a biological level. And okay, he does snore. A lot. But—”

“Thanks, Ned,” Peter grumbles. “You make me sound like a real catch.”

“You are!” Ned insists. He actually takes his eyes off of A New Hope where Princess Leia is ghostly in blue, insisting that Obi-Wan Kenobi is her only hope. “You think any of those knotheads out there can keep up with Mr. Stark in the workshop? And look at my parents. They’re both omegas. It’s not all pheromones, it’s—it’s chemistry.”

A slow smile creeps over Peter’s face. Ned and MJ create the perfect balance of unending optimism and brutal realism. In their own ways, both are looking out for him, and he knows that they want the best for him. Even if what MJ says hurts. Even if what Ned says hurts too, just in a different, softer way. One gives him the seed of hope, and the other gives him the trellis that keeps him stuck in place, terrified to make a move.

It’s balance.

Things get strange for Peter in the weeks before Tony’s heat. He attributes it to the poor weather, and MJ helpfully says that Mercury is entering its retrograde, so apparently that explains how these days his temper is short when usually his fuse is long enough for two. Even the other Avengers seem to take notice of his volatile mood, giving him a wide berth.

The only person with whom things don’t change is Tony. Around the omega, Peter is his normal blushing mess, though he does try hard to go out of his way to make things easier for the man. In school he learned how stressful an omega’s heat is: a week to two weeks of mindlessness while their biology urges them to breed. It can be unbearable without heat suppressants—

—or without a partner. Does Tony have someone to weather the worst of his heat with? Other omegas to scent and comfort him? An alpha to knot him?

The glass Peter is holding shatters in his hand. Orange juice soaks him, stinging the cuts in his palm. Beside him, Sam shouts an oath, grabbing his plate of pancakes to keep them out of the line of citrus fire. The rest of the table is silent, a dozen pairs of eyes watching him. It makes Peter’s blood boil—why are they staring at him this way? He’s fucking superhuman. He broke dozens of glasses when he first gained his powers until he acclimated to his enhanced strength. Accidents happen.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Tony mutters from over his shoulder. Peter can’t smell it—as a beta, his nose is unsophisticated, unable to pick up pheromones—but he imagines that the man is scenting him, calm waves like the ocean dragging at the shore. A hand comes out, nudges Peter’s soaked plate (rest in peace, crepes) back, and the begins to carefully maneuver the largest shards of glass into his palm.

Peter grabs his wrist with the hand that isn’t dripping blood onto the table. “Do not touch the glass.”

It comes out much firmer than he intended it to, like there is someone else controlling his voice. He’s never heard himself sound like that before. It clearly has an effect on Tony who opens his hand, glass falling back to the table, wrist going lax and pliant in Peter’s grip.

“Hey,” Steve says. “It’s alright—”

“Mind your business,” Peter says through his teeth. There’s tension in the air, especially between him and Steve now, who is posturing at the end of the table, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Then it all comes in focus to him: he’s making a fucking scene, here. He is holding Tony’s wrist, commanding him, like Peter is some sort of alpha. He yelled at Captain America. It’s fresh. It’s disrespectful. His whole face goes red and he stands so abruptly that he nearly knocks over Tony who is behind him.

Then he turns and sprints from the room, leaving blood drops behind him like a breadcrumb trail. In his room, he goes into the adjoining bathroom and runs water over his aching palm. The cuts are trying to seal around the glass, but he doesn’t even feel the pain. Grasping the shards with his fingers is easy thanks to his enhanced grip. Someone knocks on his bedroom door, but Peter ignores it. After a while, the knocking stops.

Peter sulks for nearly thirty minutes before his manners outweigh his misery. The cuts on his palm are just raw looking scars now, but he knows they will disappear soon too. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself before leaving his room.

Breakfast is finished. The room is filled with the sound of plates being scraped clean and stacked beside the sink, chairs being pushed in at the table. Someone has cleaned up the glass and the orange juice—better not have been Tony, he could have cut himself, he could have gotten hurt—and Peter has to physically shake his head to shake those thoughts right out through his ears. What is wrong with him?

“Captain Rogers?” Peter says timidly. The man is closest—closer than Tony who is at the sink arguing with Clint about proper coffee ground disposal. Steve’s face is open and kind when he stops collecting half-filled glasses of milk and orange juice.

“Hey Peter. It’s still Steve, okay? It’s always Steve.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wanted to say sorry for jumping down your throat earlier. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Steve says. He’s so kind it hurts. “Everybody has days like that, me included. Apology accepted, okay?”

Peter smiles. “Thanks. Steve.”

It takes a while for him to get Tony alone, but Peter figures that he owes the man a more in-depth apology, one he’d rather give without the other eyes of the Avengers on them. Tony seems to know what Peter is getting at, taking his time wiping down the counter (even though there are people who do that for him) and lingering. Bucky is the last one left, watching Peter with muted, angry eyes. Protective. Tony brushes the super soldier off, waving him away.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says. His mouth is dry, his throat begs him to swallow but there’s no spit in his mouth. His knees are shaking. “I’m so sorry. For the glass, and for—for everything after. Nobody should treat you like that.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Tony says. His smile is easy and charming, cheeks fuller than usual with the way he is putting on weight in anticipation of his heat. Sometimes when Peter blinks, he still sees how Tony looked after the un-Dusting, thin and tired and scared half-to-death. But this Tony is an entirely different man, and all the more handsome for it. This morning, he isn’t wearing his glasses, and his eyes are so sleepy-sated. He’s still in sweatpants, and the feet poking from beneath the pant legs are bare, fine boned. So fucking cute. “Is there something bothering you? Some of the others have came to me with concerns. You’re acting out. Teenage rebellion finally catching up with you? Gonna slam some doors, tell me you hate me, vandalize public property?”

“I could never hate you, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. He can’t say those words without his throat clenching, voice dropping. Tony’s chest expands in a deep silent breath and the look he gives Peter is—strange.

He claps Peter on the shoulder, a brief burning touch, and then is moving away. “Love that for me, kid. I’ll see you—around.”

He disappears. Peter finds himself sniffing the air, but there is nothing except the lingering scent of breakfast foods. What else he was expecting, he doesn’t know.

“J.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Get me some new biometrics on our Spider-Kid. Be subtle about it, too.”

“The human rights protocols that Ms. Potts demanded you install require me to inform you that performing any medical testing on an unaware subject is a direct violation of—”

“Yeah, yeah, skip reading me the riot act, J. I’m a bad, bad man. Get me those results ASAP, got it?”

“Performing them now, sir.”

Sundays are reserved for training, the only kind of worship most of the Avengers perform. At dawn, Peter is down in the gymnasium, wearing joggers and a clingy t-shirt. Today is supposed to be most perfunctory for him considering how hard he’s been pushing himself this week (harder than usual, maybe, he thinks, but it helps burn off some of the extra energy that has been blooming under his skin, making him itch). While the other Avengers practice hand-to-hand combat, he’ll probably be running on the treadmills.

Tony is there only for show, dressed in loungewear and drinking copious amounts of coffee. These days, he’s taking it with so much sugar and creamer that Peter can smell it on him even hours later, so sweet it makes his teeth ache. He’s only a week away from his heat, but the pheromones he’s producing make him more susceptible to physical attacks. Since these exercises are just for practice and not to hurt, he is sitting out.

“Hey, kid,” Tony mumbles, still sounding as tired as Peter feels. “You look dead on your feet. Coffee?”

He holds out his own mug. Peter hates coffee, but his body moves without consulting his higher faculties, reaching out to take the steaming cup. It actually doesn’t taste bad. Actually, it tastes pretty good—just how he imagines the inside of Tony’s mouth would taste, warm and so sweet and—

“Peter,” Tony asks. “What are you doing?”

Peter freezes—from where he is dragging his tongue along the rim of the cup, laving it over where Tony had his own mouth. His mouth goes dry, the taste of coffee turning sour in his mouth. He pulls the mug away from his mouth so quickly that he almost sloshes some out onto his trembling hands. Tony barely manages to grab the cup in time, looking much more alert (and frankly, a little alarmed).

“I—I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

“That’s—okay. It’s okay. It’s good stuff.”

Peter’s eyes go half lidded. “Yeah it is.”

Then (and Peter will never forget this, not as long as he lives. If he were in a terrible accident tomorrow that stole all of his memories, he’s sure that this one would still remain, burned in his brain), Tony puts the cup to his mouth and takes a long drink, mouth against where Peter’s tongue had trailed. All the blood in Peter’s body goes south. He feels electrocuted. A hand reaches out—his, that’s my hand, he thinks, though it’s so far away—and he presses his palm flat against Tony’s forehead, soft wisps of hair under his fingers, warm skin against his own. A shudder goes through him, and by the time he has dragged his wrist across Tony’s temple and down the side of his neck, stubble rasping against him, Peter is downright trembling, teeth clenched tight.

Tony sits like a statue under his touch, eyes wide as moons, all the blood drained from his face, and when Peter reaches the scent gland in his neck, he melts. He goes lax.

“Peter.”

When Peter turns, his teeth are clenched, lips pulled back. Captain America is standing there, and Peter can smell him, acrid.

“Stay back,” Peter barks.

“Is he—?” Natasha asks in the background, her voice high and soft with confusion.

Sam grabs her arm gently, pulling her away. “Presenting.”

There is a scuffle further away in the room, Clint holding back a trembling Bucky who is trying to get to his mate—but they are beta and omega, lesser threats. Peter pays them no mind.

Steve puts both of his hands up, the picture of calm, collected reassurance. “I’m not going to hurt you, Pete.”

“I’ll hurt you, old man,” Peter says. His voice isn’t his own, deeper and darker and scared—scared of this man, this Alpha. Peter’s omega is near and vulnerable, almost in heat. What other purpose could Steve have here except to try and separate them, try to take the omega for his own. That will never happen. His spine straightens. He is a head shorter and more than the other man, but they have fought before. Peter can take him. “Back. Off.”

Fingers wrap around Peter’s wrist, pulling it gently from his omega’s neck, and while Peter doesn’t want to take his eyes off of this dangerous alpha (no matter how non-threatening he looks), his omega is beckoning him. Peter turns and—it’s Tony. Tony. Tony.

Peter snatches his wrist back, all of his sanity coming back like cold water being poured over his head. The man is watching him, cautious, and the air is scented with fear and anxiety. This omega doesn’t need that, not so close to his heat—but this isn’t just an omega, this is Tony. Tony Stark. And here Peter is, rubbing himself all over the man like some sort of barbarian.

“Oh my god,” Peter slurs, stumbling backwards, wrist to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Peter,” Tony says. His mouth stays open but no other words come out: a true feat, for Tony to be at a loss for words. It gives Peter enough time to turn tail and run, no tact, just sprinting from the gym. The elevator is already opening—thank you, Jarvis—and Peter takes it directly up to the Avengers floor where he locks himself in his room and doesn’t exit for the rest of the day.

“I’ve rerun the scans twice now, sir. Peter Parker is an alpha. The blood work Doctor Banner performed on him this afternoon confirms it.”

“How, J? Alphas present at 14, 15—16 at the latest. Peter is eighteen years old. How did he go from beta to alpha overnight?”

“If I had to venture a guess, I would say that his altered DNA state has something to do with the late presentation. Some animalistic instincts are only triggered in the face of more base situations. More than likely, he has been an alpha all along, but until a suitable mate presented itself, his secondary gender remained dormant.”

“Are you saying I’m the suitable mate in this prime-time drama scenario?”

“I’ve never known you to sound so unhappy with a compliment, sir. Or are you fishing for more? I assure you that your hormone levels are ideal for your age, you are still fertile, and judging by the conversations I’ve overheard between Mr. Parker and his friends, he’s had romantic feelings for you for years, now.”

“Jesus, J! What happened to your privacy protocols?”

“Oh, am I not still ignoring those? My apologies, sir. In that case, Mr. Parker never talks about you at all, and they most certainly do not refer to you as Iron Daddy.”

“I swear to God JARVIS, I will wipe your programming and turn you into a glorified pocket planner—”

“If I have to overhear the phrase Iron Daddy one more time, I might be agreeable to it, sir.”

For the next few days, Peter moves around the tower like a ghost. Before he leaves any room, he asks JARVIS who is in the next one. That allows him to get from place to place without running in to Tony. It isn’t safe for Peter to be around him anymore—not after Peter practically assaulted him in front of the other Avengers. In a few days, Peter’s hormones will stabilize and then he’ll be more in control of himself.

Until then?

He deals. Alone. Trying to come to terms with his new secondary gender is more difficult than he expected. When he was younger, it was everyone’s dream to be an alpha or omega. Those genders were much rarer, sensationalized in the movies and books. Omegas and alphas could find True Love with each other. They had senses like super humans, exuding pheromones, being able to scent the air and tell a person’s mood.

Betas were average. Normal. Maybe he wanted to be an alpha or omega, but a part of him always suspected he would be a beta. When the years he should have presented in passed, he accepted it. Betas weren’t so bad, May told him. At least they didn’t have to deal with the mess of heats or ruts, they weren’t beholden to their biology.

Now, everything has changed.

Just the thought of the affect Tony had on him makes his whole face go red. God, how embarrassing. He practically rubbed himself all over the man, no better than an animal. Mr. Stark deserved better than that. He needed a mature partner, a mate who could keep their head even in the face of his hormones. They had words for alphas like Peter, ones who couldn’t control themselves—pups. Knotheads. It makes him burn with shame.

Some of the other Avengers come by to talk with him. Sam, Natasha, their neutral beta scents comforting. He spends some time with Bruce, an omega who used suppressants to neutralize his scent. Steve stays away, much to Peter’s thanks and shame. And Tony, too. To Peter’s complete agony. Sometimes he catches remnants of the man’s scent, and he has to struggle not to rub his face against the couch cushions, to scent them himself. What will his omega think, when he catches his alpha’s scent—only no. Tony isn’t his omega.

And Peter isn’t his alpha.

They let him meet Steve again first. The alpha hasn’t change physically, but it feels like Peter is seeing him through a whole new set of eyes. He smells of petrichor in the city, not very appealing. But alpha scents aren’t meant to appeal to other alphas. Does Tony like this smell, Peter wonders? When they hug, does Tony nuzzle into that thick chest and scent him?

The thought doesn’t fill Peter with the same rage it did a few days ago. Instead, it makes him sad.

“Hi Captain Rogers,” Peter says. “How are you?”

Steve smiles. “I’m great, Pete. It’s Steve, remember? Still Steve.”

Peter tries to smile back. “Steve.”

When Peter and Captain Rogers both come out of his room, the only other Avengers around are Natasha and Tony. Instinct has him inhaling—and God, Tony smells as good as Peter remembers. Coffee must be in his blood, sweet with creamer and raw sugar that would crunch under Peter’s molars and dissolve on his tongue. It’d be a dream to taste that scent from the source.

Peter shakes himself out of it. Those are the kinds of thoughts that got him in trouble in the first place. He can feel how tense the room is while he carefully approaches the omega. In Tony’s benefit, he looks relaxed, lounging on the sofa. In this position, his gently rounded stomach is clear underneath his band t-shirt and it makes Peter’s mouth water. He wills away his boner—because now, alphas like Steve and omegas like Tony will be able to smell his arousal.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter says in a soft, cracking voice. “A-Are you okay?”

Tony smiles, gentle, so tender. “Peachy, kid. Just peachy.”

Tony’s body starts purging three days before his heat, and everyone in the tower knows it. Peter knows too, and not just because he can smell it, ripening like strawberries in sugar, but because Tony stops eating altogether. Mealtimes he spends pushing food around his plate, forcing himself to sip at his sweating glass of ice water. His body is clearing itself out, priming itself for mating. Bruce encourages him to eat what he can, but Tony just snaps at his mothering, face green. No one needs to openly state that this pre-heat seems worse than usual.

It hurts to see Tony not eating, but Peter sits on his hands and bites his fucking tongue and turns away and doesn’t say a thing because it isn’t his fucking business to command the omega. Tony is more than his designation. He’s a fucking human being, and Peter is going to respect him and his wishes, even if he’d rather see the man stuff himself, belly rounded, preferably with Peter’s—

“Bathroom,” Peter mutters, standing jerkily from the table. No one notices his quick escape. In the small, tiled room, his own scent rebounds off the walls and suffocates him, arousal, sharp, pining, sickly. Peter splashes cool water over his face, resolute in his decision not to jerk off. He hasn’t cum since before his presentation, is too afraid of how it might be different, too afraid of the knot that is likely to bloom at the base of his cock (which has grown, to Peter’s horror and delight).

Once he feels less likely to pop a boner at the dinner table, he flushes perfunctorily and leaves the bathroom—only to run directly into Tony who pushes past him.

“Sorry kid, got to yack,” he mutters. But then everything about him freezes. Peter sees his own scent, concentrated from his time in the bathroom as it washes over the omega. Tony shudders, eyes rolling. The sound that leaves his mouth can be described as nothing short of a whimper. The green tinge of nausea is replaced with the flush of his own arousal, and Peter can smell it, so good that it hurts, makes him harder than he’s ever been in his life, and this is his omega, his omega who is approaching heat and needs him—

But he is more than that to Peter, too.

Using all his restraint, Peter reaches out for the bathroom door handle and slams the door shut. He hears the soft thud of Tony’s body on the other side, like he has slumped against it. A low groan, muted by the oak.

Peter turns and goes to his room without an explanation, dinner plate still half-full.

“JARVIS…”

“I’m here, sir.”

“Protocol Fuck or Die. Who is on my consent list?”

“Just Captain Rogers, sir.”

“Add Peter.”

“Shall I alert him—”

“No—just. I doubt my heat will be bad enough to require an alpha’s—ah—special support, but. Better safe than sorry.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“Oh, and J? Let’s go ahead and make an addendum…”

Less than two days later, Tony leaves his bedroom on the Avengers’ floor and goes up to the penthouse. The door locks behind him, and Peter comforts himself with that fact. The man is safe. No one can get in without JARVIS’s say so, and the AI values Tony’s safety above all else. Even if he suffers while he’s there (and that thought alone makes Peter ache in his chest, desperate to help), at least he is safe.

Two days in, a situation across the country calls for some of the Avengers, and Steve, Bucky, Nat and Clint all pack up to head out. They don’t ask Peter to come with them, and the young alpha doesn’t offer—though he hardly knows why. Nat tucks him under her arm and presses a kiss to his forehead when he wishes them safe travels, and please let me know if you need backup.

She smiles, soft. “I think you’re needed here, Pete.”

Peter has no idea what to make of that, and no idea how right she is.

“Mister Parker.”

Peter wakes from a restless sleep, sitting straight up in his bed. The room is absolutely dark—the only way he can sleep with his sensitivity issues—but Peter knows that the voice didn’t come from anyone in the room. It came from above. Heart in his throat, he croaks out an affirmation, fearing the worst. Something has gone wrong on the mission with Steve and the others. They are hurt, or worse, dead. Maybe there’s another emergency, this time in New York, and Peter and Sam and Bruce will have to deal with it alone—

“I need you to go directly to the penthouse, and with haste.”

“Penthouse? That’s—that’s off limits. Mr. Stark—”

“Mister Stark’s temperature is reaching dangerous levels, and he is no longer responding to my questions. He requires immediate attention. Do not bother dressing—go straight there.”

Peter rolls out of bed. This is worse than the Avengers being hurt. So much worse. His hands shake as he leaves his room wearing nothing but boxer shorts (do not bother dressing or not, Peter wasn’t going to walk around naked). The lounge is empty and ghostly, moonlight streaming in from the windows and turning every shadow into a monster. Peter has bigger fears now, though.

“It’s his heat?”

“Yes—”

“—and what exactly—I mean, what do you want me to do about it?”

“Now is not the time for me to give you the birds and the bees talk, Mister Parker—”

Peter blanches. The elevator is waiting for him as he steps inside, feels the pull of gravity as he quickly ascends, his hears popping at the change in altitude. “JARVIS, you don’t understand—Mr. Stark, h-he can’t consent during a heat. I would be—it would be—”

“You have his consent. Based on protocol Fuck or Die—”

“I’m sorry what?”

“It’s not uncommon for older omegas to suffer serious health issues while suffering through heats alone and unsuppressed. In the event that an alpha is absolutely required, Mister Stark has a list of preapproved alphas who have his complete consent to bond with him. On such a list is Captain Rogers and, as of earlier this week, yourself.”

Peter gapes. His head spins. Mr. Stark—lists of consent—Peter?

“If it makes you feel better,” JARVIS says. “Had Captain Rogers been here, I would have asked him first.”

The elevator opens, and Peter steps out into the hallway that leads to the penthouse. His stomach is in knots, a tangle of Medusa’s snakes that wriggle and threaten to turn him to stone. His knees are shaking, knocking together in fear that is so potent it’s comical. This is his greatest dream come true (though certainly not happening in the way he had anticipated) but suddenly it is his deepest fear.

“No offense, Mr. JARVIS, but in what world would that make me feel better?” Peter asks, his sweating palm on the doorknob to the penthouse.

“We can debate it another time when Mister Stark isn’t at risk of a febrile seizure.”

The door clicks, lock opening. Steeling himself, Peter opens the door and steps inside.

The smell intense: cinnamon rolls, ground coffee beans, caramel sauce so sweet it’s just on the verge of burning. It is right out of Peter’s wet dreams, his cock rushing to fill itself so that it will be useful to the omega in need. The penthouse is a mess when Peter scans it: furniture knocked over, a glass of water shattered on the tiles of the foyer, though the water has nearly evaporated now. Everything is quiet and still. It should be eerie.

But suddenly it isn’t. A change comes over him, a rush of hormones that not only fill his cock but clear his head. It’s like everything he sees is in greater detail, sharp focus, all of his senses on high alert. There are no more nerves, and Peter is filled with the overwhelming confidence that he knows what he’s doing.

“The bedroom, Mister Parker. Quickly, please.”

Peter moves with purpose, ignoring his cock. The bedroom door is only cracked, and he reaches out with a firm hand to push it open the rest of the way.

Tony has taken up residence on the floor beside the bed. The sheets are dragged off of it as if Tony had struggled to pull himself up and lost the strength, choosing instead to curl up around his aching abdomen. Peter gathers all of the strength and calm inside of himself, works to exude it in his very scent (a thing he’s mostly unfamiliar with, but which is apparently a skill akin to wiggling his ears, which he can also do, thanks very much).

Naked, Peter is privy to every inch of tanned skin, the gentle smattering of hair on Tony’s legs, sparser at his thighs. There are no hairs on his chest thanks to the mass of scar tissue where the arc reactor used to be, smooth, pink skin that will never grow hair again. All his skin is covered in sweat, slick and glowing under the dim lights. Then, Tony’s eyes open, nostrils flaring. He turns his head towards where Peter stands in the doorway, teeth chattering from his fever, and the look on his face is pure relief.

“Alpha,” he says, stuttering through his chills.

Peter hushes him, kneeling down to drag the man into his arms. The omega groans in pain when he’s no longer curled around his aching stomach, but then buries his nose in Peter’s neck, hot breath brushing his skin and making goosebumps rise all over Peter. Tony sighs in relief, wrapping himself around the kneeling alpha. Peter can feel Tony’s cock—small, but hard and leaking—pressing against his hip. Pooled on the older man’s abdominals is cum, drying and tacky.

“I recommend a tepid shower, Mister Parker.”

“Start it,” Peter says through his teeth. He shifts up onto one knee, bracing himself so that he can support the larger man’s weight. Tony is mouth at his neck, hips rutting desperately. Peter puts a hand on the man’s lower back and guides him, encourages him, words pouring out of his mouth that he can barely hear over the blood rushing in his ears. “Come on, Mr. Stark, please Mr. Stark, you need to cum. Can you cum like this? Will you try, for me? Now, Omega, now if you can at all—”

Tony shudders, cum splattering Peter’s bare stomach. It burns—every point of contact with the man burns, thanks to the fever.

“God,” Peter groans, throat convulsing. “That was amazing. So good, Mr. Stark, Jesus, that was incredible—”

In the bathroom, the shower is running, cool enough to not create any steam. Peter grits his teeth, hating cold showers, but knowing that his omega needs it. A fever isn’t good for his omega’s brain, and at least the water isn’t cold. That might shock Tony’s system and do more harm than good. Without even stopping to shuck his boxers, Peter slides open the glass shower door and ushers them both inside. When the spray hits him, the omega whines, shrinking away.

“Stay,” Peter says firmly. Tony goes slack, suggestible.

He leaves the front of Tony’s body in the cool spray and stands on his toes to bury his nose in the omega’s neck, scenting him, scraping together every good warm safe happy feeling inside of himself. Tony’s head goes lax, leaning back, water dripping down his throat. The young alpha licks a line up his throat and to the shell of his ear. Such a thing would be weird any other time, but now it’s like there’s a part inside of him that urges him to do it, to leave his mouth on the man and never lift it.

“Peter?” he slurs.

Peter jolts. If Tony is more conscious and aware, that seems like a promising sign. “JARVIS called for me. You’re safe, Mr. Stark,” he says. “I promise.”

Tony smiles, a soft breath coming out almost like a laugh. “I know,” he murmurs. “Jesus, kid, I’m cold.”

“You’re feverish,” Peter says. “JARVIS? Can you tell Mr. Stark’s temperature?”

“It is a toasty 101.7 degrees Fahrenheit, Mister Parker, which is an improvement. I believe a decent bonding session would have a similar therapeutic effect, if the shower isn’t comfortable. And sir, may I say that it’s nice to see you stringing together a full sentence.”

Tony snorts. His voice is weak, but no less snarky. “Thanks, J. Can we get out, Pete? I haven’t taken cold showers since I was fifteen years old.”

“If we get out,” Peter says. “We’ll have to—to bond.”

“Is that—you don’t want that?”

“I do, God, Jesus, yes I do—”

Now Tony does laugh, even as his eyes slip closed in exhaustion. It is likely that without proper care, he has barely slept since his heat started in earnest three days ago. The instincts inside of Peter stir: his omega needs fucked and then he needs rest.

As soon as the cool water is off, Tony is back to stumbling, doubled over in pain, an arm curled around his tender midsection. The cramps come and go while Peter does his best to dry them off, but their hair is still dripping when he can’t take the sounds of pain anymore and guides Tony back to the bedroom. There is nothing on the bed but a fitted sheet, soft as silk, and Tony crawls onto it without prompting.

He sinks immediately into lordosis, ass up, spine curved as he presents himself, forehead pressed to the bed and chest doing its best to follow. This is pornography come to life, Peter thinks. He can see Tony’s hole, wet and dripping. Between his legs are his balls, red and aching, but it’s that hole that makes his fingers ache, that has him reaching out to press a thumb against the rim.

Tony chokes, hips jerking backwards until Peter sinks in to the first knuckle. Tony is loose and pliant, perfect for taking an alpha’s cock and knot.

“Please,” Tony groans into the mattress, shaking all over. “’t hurts, Pete. Please. Inside.”

Peter pulls his thumb free, kneels up onto the bed to shuffle closer, and then sinks two gentle fingers in, slow until they’re swallowed to the hilt. He has to close his eyes, cock aching, knot already throbbing at the base. Inside, Tony is like liquid silk, hot and wet and clinging to his fingers, the internal muscles squeezing and desperate for more to hold on to. The noise Tony lets out is pure sex, a long moan that ends higher and breathier than he’s ever heard the man.

Slowly, Peter pulls his fingers out to the tip—and god, the slide, the wet friction is just as intoxicating, eyes rolling in his skull, blinded to everything but the desperate omega in front of him—before pressing back in. He twists them, circles his hands, crooks them until he finds that spot, the rough bump inside. Tony keens, body spasming as his fists clench at the sheets, his cock spurting. Around his fingers, Tony’s ass flutters. But he needs more. Peter knows.

Soaked boxers abandoned in the bathroom, Peter’s cock is free to dribble and ache, only inches from where it longs to harbor. Brief anxiety has his hand trembling when he reaches down to run a gentle fist from tip down to root. This is the first time he’s touched his cock since he presented—but it feels the same really. Except for the base, where there is a bump, so sensitive that he whines when he runs a curious thumb over it. God, how will that feel inside Tony? Peter can’t even imagine.

Withdrawing his fingers, the omega cries out, hips jerking backwards, desperate to keep the connection. Peter soothes him with a hand on his back, urging him to relax back into the bedspread while Peter kneels up behind him. Their similar heights make this easy—all the important bits are at the perfect levels.

Taking a deep breath, Peter guides the head of his cock to the wet hole. The first touch has him whining, shaking, and if it weren’t for the firm hand on Tony’s back, the omega would likely have taken him to the root by now with the way he is thrusting back, trying to fuck himself on the tip alone. It’s now or never, Peter tells himself. Pressing forward, he sinks in until he can’t anymore. It takes every bit of restraint not to cum immediately, popping his knot in the tightest, wettest, most pleasurable heat he’s ever known. Beneath him, Tony sounds like he’s dying in the best way, groaning.

“Please, alpha, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”

Everything in him wants to give this man what he needs, so with singular focus, Peter pulls back his hips and lets them snap forward. Tony howls, his elbows bending so that he can grab fistfuls of his hair and pull. Peter lets his instincts do the work, trusts his body to know what is best for himself and his omega, fucking into that tight heat in desperation. The best part of every thrust is bottoming out, the brief pressure of Tony’s fluttering rim around Peter’s blossoming knot, so sensitive it makes him shiver.

“God, Mr. Stark,” Peter pants. The words are torn from his chest: “My omega.”

“Yes, yes, yours, take it, take me,” Tony says, every word punctuated by a hitch in his breath as Peter thrusts in. “Alpha—let me cum, please—”

“Yes,” Peter groans. “You need it, please. Please cum for me.”

Tony cries out, entire body stiffening and going still beneath him—every part of him except for his small cock, spurting weakly and the tight heat around Peter’s cock that flutters, squeezing, choking the life out of him. Peter desperately wants to bring Tony to another orgasm, figuring that the better sated he is, the quicker his fever will fall. But the sounds, the smells, the unbearable pressure around his cock is too much. He can feel it building inside him, balls tightening, knot beginning to swell. There’s no way he can stop it—and Tony needs this too. Needs a knot, for his body to fight the biological havoc his hormones are wreaking on it.

So Peter chases it, fucking Tony right through his orgasm. Every time the knot catches on the rim, Peter thinks this is it, this is it, there’s no way I can push into him, or there’s no way I can pull it out of him, but he does, both of their bodies capable of so much more than he ever knew. Then it hits. Peter shoves the knot past the rim, shrieking as his balls spasm, cum spurting into the omega. Beneath him, Tony shouts something unintelligible, and maybe he cums again, but Peter can’t tell. The world goes white. Nothing exists except for the tight channel around his cock, the rim that’s squeezing his knot, coaxing more and more cum from him.

But one thought comes, strikes him like a lightning bolt straight from Thor’s hammer: bite. His teeth ache down to the roots with as tightly as he clenches them together, mouth watering, desperate to clamp his jaws on that raised spot on Tony’s neck. Break skin. Mate. The urge becomes overwhelming, no way that he can stop it—but instead he turns and bites into the meat of his bicep, breaking skin until blood floods his mouth.

When it finally ends, they are stuck together. Shaking from exertion, Peter still reaches out to help Tony collapse properly onto the bed, then he guides them both onto their sides, his stomach pressed flush against Tony’s back. The omega is shaking all over, so Peter runs his hands over every bit of skin he can, murmuring words of praise, God Mr. Stark, you’re perfect. That was the most amazing thing, thank you so much, thank you.

By the time his knot deflates enough for him to pull out without hurting Tony (and it’s an inordinate amount of time later, Peter things, probably considering it was his first ever knot popped), the bite on his arm has healed. He must still look like a sight, he thinks, mouth covered in flaking, dried blood. Tony is soft and sated when he rolls onto his back, and the only indication he gives that the blood on Peter startles him is a few gentle blinks, like his eyes are blurry and he needs to clear them.

“I almost bit you,” Peter says. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony smiles, eyes already slipping closed. He worms one arm beneath the pillow under his head and lets his eyes shut completely. “Go ahead,” he mumbles. “’m going t’ sleep now.”

Peter smooths the hair out of his face. His chest feels tight, full up with love and longing and absolute adoration. This has been beyond Peter’s wildest dreams: mating Tony, bonding with him for good and not just for now? That is something that Peter can’t even let himself imagine. It’s a pipe dream, a hazy, unclear fantasy. Beside him, Tony is already asleep. The man snores—wait until Ned finds out.

“Mister Stark’s temperature is returning to normal boundaries, I am happy to report.”

Peter breathes a sigh of relief. He barely knew how much tension was in him until he heard those words, until he knew that Tony would be okay. His body relaxes, experiencing a peace he has never before known. Here, with this man he loves more than anything, knowing they are safe and that Tony is content. “Thank you, JARVIS. I’m glad you woke me.”

“As am I. Mister Parker, I believe there is one other matter that I must bring to your attention.”

“What is it?”

“It is another protocol that Mister Stark put in place. A list he created exclusively for you.”

It is a week later before Tony is well enough to leave his penthouse. The man has lost all the weight he put on and more, even as Peter’s constant insistence that he eat whenever he could stomach it. Despite the copious amounts on incredible sex they shared, Peter can’t help but be glad that Tony’s heats only come twice a year. Any more than that might genuinely kill the man, his legs shaking, leaning on Peter as they enter the Avengers living area.

General cries of greeting and joy rise up around the floor. Steve pulls the man into a hug before he thinks otherwise, his eyes finding Peter’s over the omega’s shoulder. But Peter isn’t jealous, just watches with a happy, soft smile. He sees the exact moment that Steve breathes in and smells the change in the omega’s scent, and Peter knows the look on his face must be that of the sorest winner, smug, and unbearably in love.

Steve pulls back and gently tugs at the collar of Tony’s shirt, exposing just the smallest hint of the healing mating bite. Peter’s own has already healed.

Bucky can’t help but frown from where he stands behind Steve. His eyes flash hot like coals, accusatory, pinning Peter in place. “You mated him? He was in heat.”

Tony waves a hand. “We had a sort of—withstanding agreement. Didn’t we, J?”

“That you did, sir. I would not let anything untoward happen to Mister Stark under my watch.”

“Hear that?” Tony asks, stalking to the refrigerator. “I have protocols in place for every possible sequence of events, and giving hot young alphas the consent to mate me for life is a very advantageous outcome, if I do say so myself. Hey—fruit goes on the top shelf, heathens, not in the drawer. I’m out of commission for two weeks and this is what happens—”

“You have, what, procedures in place? For every possible sequence of events?” Bucky asks, his arms crossed.

Tony reappears from the refrigerator, a take-out contained in his hands. He cracks it open, Styrofoam screeching, to appraise the insides. Whatever is there must please him, because he bumps the door closed with one hip and goes for a fork. “Huh?” he asks, scooping out strands of angel hair pasta. “Oh. Yeah—I do. By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.”

“Who said that?” Natasha asks. “Was that Franklin?”

“What, it wasn’t me?” Tony asks.

“Wait, I want to hear more about these procedures, especially any that involve me,” Bucky asks. They all gravitate around the counter, leaning against the marble. Peter can’t help but feel that the turmoil of the last month has ended and now things are—not normal. But better than normal. His family, his pack, they are stronger than ever.

“I could tell you, snowflake,” Tony says around a mouth of pasta. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

tag list: (and I know I’m missing so many of you right now, I’m sorry, I’ll work on it, feel free to continue to let me know if you want to be tagged or would rather not be. @shinycreatoroafbonk @sadbumblingmess @parkerslutt @css1992 @starkerotic @rogerthat-captain @prettyboy-parker @onemadeofglass @kirtthana @deliciousflapbanditfarm @kiaorauniverse @loki-iwanttobeking @parleroumourirr @bizzlepotter @von--gelmini

#starker #abo #alpha!peter #omega!tony #cagewrites

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isitmadness · 4 years

Text

A Handsome Stranger

summary: Driving 1,300 miles in a truck with a complete stranger. This will be fine. This was what desperation will get you. Desperation and something akin to love-at-first-sight.

relationships: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

words: 1.4k

a/n: I liked the idea of these two idiots on a road trip in an AU/modern setting, so I wrote one. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I've made part of their trip before, but not all, so please forgive inaccuracies as I don't live on the west coast of the US. Google was my friend. Also, other characters will come in later.

Read it on ao3

Part 1: A Handsome Stranger at the Airport

At first glance, the man looked stuffy and fussy, standing there in his tan slacks, collared shirt and blue sweater. Cody watched with some interest as he animatedly spoke with the agent behind the counter. He gestured throughout the conversation, but to his credit, he never once raised his voice.That was a rarity in the airport.

Cody couldn’t quite make out what the man was saying from his vantage point, but it seemed the day was not going his way—his posture, tired and defeated. He laughed to himself when the auburn-haired man bent forward and laid his forehead on the desk. As Cody got closer, the agent leaned over the counter, he heard her ask the man if he was okay. “Sir? Sir...are you all right? As I’ve said, there’s nothing I can do for you. I do apologize.” The man picked up his head and groaned. Cody stood at the opposite end of the counter and waited.

“Yes, you have said. I understand. I’ll just be going then.” Was that a...Scottish accent? Or some English-Scottish hybrid. Cody couldn’t quite tell, but he’d be happy to listen to the man read the phonebook. He continued to watch as he knelt and picked up his bag and an old, battered suitcase. The man and the suitcase both looked like they had seen some better days. Cody was starting to feel rather bad for the guy.

He found his feet moving seemingly of their own volition towards the redhead who was heading to the exit rather quickly.

Right before he stepped through the sliding glass doors, Cody reached out and grabbed the elbow of his sweater. The man stopped and spun around, eyes wide. Cody held up his hands in an apology. “Sorry! Sorry…” And Cody himself froze. Fair and freckled skin, bright blue eyes combined with the auburn hair and neat auburn beard made him quite the handsome specimen.

“Can I help you?” The simple question brought Cody back down to Earth. He was a bit concerned at how easily he lost himself.

“I, uh...sorry...I overheard you talking to the agent over there.” Cody hooked a thumb over his shoulder back towards the counter. “You seem to have a problem, and I was going to see if I could help?”

The man’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Cody wanted to laugh, but he kept a straight face. “You what?”

“I what what?” Cody repeated. He winced. Smooth.

“You want to help me? I don’t understand. You don’t know me or know anything about me.” The man lifted an eyebrow, looking skeptical. But then his face softened and he leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “I could be a murderer, you know.”

At that Cody barked a short laugh. “You? I find that very hard to believe.” Cody crossed his arms over his chest.

“But that’s what I want you to believe, that’s what makes me good,” the man straightened up and honestly looked quite proud of himself. The little shit.

“Okay, well let’s say I live dangerously and am willing to help a murderer, where are you headed?” The man visibly slumped and looked more like he did back at the counter. This man was no murderer, he was too tired to murder.

“Well, I was trying to get home to Seattle,” he started. “And it’s a really long story, but I missed my flight and it seems I’m shit out of luck here on renting a vehicle. Seattle isn’t exactly next door, you know.”

“It’s not?” Cody already felt comfortable being sarcastic with the guy.

The man chuckled. “No, crazy, right?”

Cody couldn’t believe the luck, but was also a bit dubious about how well this was working out. “You may find this hard to believe, but I am moving to Bremerton, to work on the naval base there. I can give you a ride in my moving truck.”

At this the man’s eyes widened, “No shit?”

“No shit.”

He narrowed them again. Cody couldn’t help but notice how expressive he was. “So, you, some random guy in an airport, happens to overhear my struggles, and doesn’t ignore them, but instead comes over and offers to haul my ass nearly 1,300 miles up the west coast? Are you pulling my leg?”

Cody huffed a laugh, “Look, I barely believe it myself.”

“And you just happened to be going to nearly the same place?” The man finally dropped his bag and put his hands on his hips. Cody nodded. He stood still while the man weighed his options, stroking his beard, deep in thought. In the few minutes Cody knew this man, he seemed so young and so old simultaneously. He would put his age at 35, tops, but he had a feeling he could be even younger—he was just hiding it behind the beard.

“Okay,” the man finally said. He put a single finger in the air, “But I insist on paying for gas, miles, food, whatever you need. This is an incredibly generous offer, and I can’t pretend I understand why you’re willing to do this for someone you don’t know, but it’s the least I can do.”

“Well then,” Cody stuck out a hand and the man grasped it to shake. “It’s a deal.”

“Deal,” the man replied. He knelt down again to pick up his bag. “Oh, and the name’s Ben. Ben Kenobi.”

Cody smiled back, “Cody Fett.”

“Nice to meet you, Cody Fett,” Ben said with a bright smile. “I’ll follow your lead.”

###

Ben followed Cody to the parking lot, two or three steps behind the entire way. He might have made the murderer joke, but he didn’t know if this Cody Fett actually was one, so he preferred to keep his eyes on the stranger the entire time. His gut, however, told him Cody was all right, and his gut was rarely wrong.

He really still couldn’t get over a perfect (and handsome!) stranger offering help such as this. There had to be a catch. He’d figure it out—there was always a catch.

In the meantime, he could at least appreciate watching the man as he walked. He had incredible posture, quite unlike Ben, and carried himself well. It also didn’t hurt that he was extremely easy on the eyes with his dark skin, warm, brown eyes and short black hair that looked like it would curl if it were any longer. Not to mention the hooked scar around his left eye, which Ben thought added character. He was already convinced the trip would be bearable.

“Alright, here we are,” Cody stopped in front of a large, yellow truck with a smaller pickup truck attached to the back for towing.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Ben started as Cody unlocked the driver’s side door. “If you’ve got your trucks here, and I’m assuming all your things inside, why were you at the airport? Perusing the rental counters for your next victim?”

“Wait, I thought you were the murderer?” Cody grinned. “We can’t both be one.”

“Why not? Think of the story’s possibilities! Each one of us thinks that the other is, but no!, that can’t be because we’re making jokes about it, so we’re obviously kidding, but really BOTH of us are and somehow we’ve already tricked the other into believing it’s not possible. It’s the perfect setup.”

Cody just stood there and stared at Ben. “Right. I didn’t want to pay for all the gas on this monster alone, so I hung out at the rental counter until I found the first sucker who happened to be going my way so I could make them foot half the bill.” And he gave Ben a wink.

Ben finally broke into a laugh. “Oh, that’s good. You’re clever.”

Cody shook his head, “Alright, well, get in. You can put your things behind the seats, there’s plenty of room. I’ll get in and unlock the door for you.”

Ben walked around to the passenger side and waited for Cody to open the door. He handed Cody his overnight bag and his embarrassingly ratty suitcase, and hoisted himself into the cab. Cody busied himself packing Ben’s things while Ben had a moment of panic as he realized just how crazy this thing was he was about to do.

Driving 1,300 miles, from San Diego to Seattle, in a truck with a complete stranger. This will be fine. This was what desperation will get you. Desperation and something akin to love-at-first-sight. Anakin was going to give him such a hard time when he found out. (And Ben would have to tell him at some point.)

Cody started the truck and looked over at Ben, “You ready then?”

Ben sighed and smiled, “You bet.”

#my writing #fanfic #star wars #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #codywan #fluff #mutual pining #so much pining #like you guys....get a handle on yourselves #road trip #road trip au #modern setting #obi wan x cody

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swhurtcomfort · 5 years

Note

Can you do a fic where Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan get stuck overnight on an ice planet and the cold really bothers Anakin, so Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have to take care of him and keep him warm enough so he doesn’t end up with hypothermia.

Obi-Wan coughs. He is lying on his back, unsure of where he is.

His arms and feet and face are tingling, too warm and too cold at the same time.

“Anakin!” he bites out through uncooperative lips. He tries to sit up. Anakin is in trouble, he was supposed to stay awake, and—

“Stay down, General.” Hands pin him to the medical cot.

Stay awake, stay awake.

He doesn’t remember why, but he knows that is important. “Is Anakin…?”

“Skywalker and Tano are right here. They’ll be alright soon, and so will you, sir.” Obi-Wan feels a sharp prick in his arm.

“You’re not Helix,” Obi-Wan mumbles to the medic. Stay awake, damn it, stay…

…

“No, no—shavit!” Anakin growls as the speeder dies and sinks down into the snow below them with a crunch.

Obi-Wan doesn’t reprimand him for such language in front of his padawan. Ahsoka doesn’t even giggle.

Anakin wraps a scarf over his mouth and nose before climbing out and throwing up the speeder’s hood. The fabric of his cloak whips around him like billowing silk, buffeted by the cruel wind driving pellets of snow and ice into his face.

“This is why I wanted the FR model,” Anakin grumbles to himself as he starts pulling wires up from the tangle of hardware. “But oh no, that sleemo just had to rent me this garbage.”

“Yeah, bad news, Master,” Anakin says as he sits back down in the driver’s seat. “We’ve burned right through the main repulsor. These pieces of druk weren’t meant to fly in this kind of weather.”

“I’m afraid comms are offline too,” says Obi-Wan, holding out his dead commlink.

There’s a long, painful silence in which each of them are weighing the various odds. They’re a few hundred miles out from the city, so the dignitaries they are meant to be meeting won’t even notice their lateness for at least a few hours.

And they have no way of calling for help, and practically no visibility in the onslaught of snow. Ahsoka frowns at her master and grandmaster in turn.

“Can you run the heat without the repulsor, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, imposing an air of calm on the conversation.

Anakin slams the hood down and climbs back into the covered speeder.

He turns the ignition, and the heater whirrs to life.

Ahsoka sees Obi-Wan’s shoulders visibly sink with relief.

“Then we can wait out the storm,” he reasons. “When the snow lets up, we should be able to comm for help.”

…

“Anakin, let’s turn it off for a bit.”

“It’s like Ilum in here,” Anakin whines.

“You said that once on Geonosis,” Obi-Wan scoffs. He turns and leans his head against the leather seat. The first several hours hadn’t been unpleasant, if a bit cramped. The speeder didn’t allow them much space to get away from each other.

The storm rages on outside. The little speeder engine is doing its best, but the heater’s highest setting is only raising the air temperature to bearable at best.

“I did not,” Anakin snaps, rising to the bait. “Geonosis was appropriately temperate.”

“You have a very different definition of temperate from the rest of the universe,” Obi-Wan reminds him.

Anakin shivers, as if to make his point. “I’d rather be there than here.”

“Please, if we don’t ration the battery, it’ll die and the exhaust pipe is going to freeze and suffocate us. Is that what you want?”

Anakin groans.

Ahsoka shifts nervously. Usually their banter is in good fun, but both masters seem like the close quarters and frustration are wearing on their nerves.

“Turn off the heat, Anakin.”

“Five more minutes.”

…

Annoyance turns into fear like a stone dropping into deep water. The whirring of the engine petered to a halt. The speeder’s battery is dead.

Anakin’s eyes go wide. He moves to throw open the door, but Obi-Wan grabs his wrist.

“Anakin,” he says in warning. “You’ll let out the last of the warm air.”

“No,” Anakin whispers. They watch Anakin’s face as he thinks it over. There’s nothing left to run power to the heater. There’s nothing to be done.

“No,” he says again, more softly.

“They’ve got to be looking for us, right Master?” Ahsoka asked Obi-Wan. “We should have shown up hours ago. The Admiral had our itinerary. They’ll find us.”

“No, no, no,” Anakin was repeating to himself. Obi-Wan rubbed his shoulder.

“Ahsoka’s right,” Obi-Wan advised. “We will just have to sit tight. They will find us.”

Anakin clenches his fists on the steering wheel. Anakin knows how to separate the mind from physical discomforts. He can deal with a tremendous amount of pain, hunger thirst, but the cold is something that Anakin simply can’t tolerate. He never has, Jedi training be damned.

The comms are still down, and the bitter onslaught of snow and hail shows no signs of letting up.

There’s a first aid kit under the seat with a fire-resistant blanket. At Obi-Wan’s suggestion, Anakin climbs over the console into the backseat to share it with Ahsoka. The duraplast windows are already starting to fog up. Obi-Wan shoves his hands into his sleeves.

…

“Ughhhhhhh,”

The whiny sound that escapes from Anakin looks like smoke in the frozen air. Ahsoka sighs, and sees her own breath.

Obi-Wan has joined them in the back seat now, sandwiching Anakin between himself and Ahsoka. Being the paler of the two humans, he already has splotches on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His knuckles are turning red, but he keeps rubbing Anakin’s shoulder. All three of them are pressed up close, sharing body heat. Anakin grumbles some more.

“We’re all cold, Skyguy,” Ahsoka allows the sharp remark to escape her, because she’s achy with the cold and Anakin’s complaining is constant. All three of them are shivering involuntarily.

“It probably won’t be much longer,” said Obi-Wan, placating.

He clenches his teeth to stop them from chattering and continues comforting Anakin, movements slow and steady. Ahsoka has no idea how he’s remained so patient with both of them.

Twilight haze was darkening the hills around them.

…

Night comes, and the heavy clouds block out the moonlight.

Or maybe it’s the layer of snow which has accumulated over the speeder. On some level, Obi-Wan worries that it’s going to bury them alive, but his head’s a little too fuzzy to assess the risk of that happening right now.

Anakin is the first one to stop shivering. His face has turned from bright red to pale and grey. He complains less, but somehow Obi-Wan and Ahsoka wish for the whining back.

Ahsoka’s fingertips are so frozen that it hurts to bend them.

“Gotta be,” Obi-Wan slurs. Ahsoka can’t tell if it’s because his lips are numb, or if he’s getting confused. “Soon, they gotta come soon.”

Ahsoka nods. Obi-Wan suddenly grabs her shoulder and shakes it. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. Everything feels slow, heavy. Sleep sounds warm and inviting.

“Anakin?”

Anakin offers no reply.

“Hey Anakin,” Obi-Wan mumbles. “Hey,”

Ahsoka snuggles tighter against Anakin’s body under the blanket. What little warmth they have left is precious.

Anakin finally groans in response to Obi-Wan’s rousing. His breathing is more labored than it should be.

“Stay ‘wake,” Obi-Wan insists. He gives up his corner of the blanket, tucking it around Anakin, who doesn’t seem to notice.

“You stay awake too,” Ahsoka whispers hoarsely.

“I’m worried ‘bout him.”

“Me too,” Ahsoka mumbles through a yawn.

They cannot succumb, they are afraid that help will not come and they might not wake up. They need to keep each other alert. They cannot sleep, no matter the temptation.

The only one who isn’t on board with this plan seems to be Anakin. He has stopped trying to keep his eyes open.

“Stay awake,” Ahsoka and Obi-Wan mumble to each other until the words start to lose their meaning.

“Stay awake.”

They cannot.

…

“You’re not Helix,” she hears Obi-Wan’s voice slurring.

“No, sir,” says the medic, barely pausing his work. Ahsoka’s memories of the medevac ride start to come back to her. She is covered in electric blankets on a medical cot, and the fluids running into her arm through the IV line feel warm.

She manages to lean up on her elbows, and sees her master and grandmaster both passed out on adjacent cots.

“You stay down too, Commander,” the medic tells her. “You’re in luck, you haven’t got any frostbite.”

Stay awake. She remembers that much.

She rolls over to get a better view of Anakin’s cot. Some of the waxy paleness has left his face. But he’s unconscious, which is bad news. They have to stay awake.

“Skyguy? Master Anakin?”

“Let him rest, Commander,” the medic orders. “He seems to have gotten the worst of it. His temperature still hasn’t stabilized, but it’s alright, we’re keeping an eye on him.”

The medic pulls the blankets back up over her shoulder, and it’s weird to feel like she’s being tucked in like a youngling.

“Kenobi is recovering well too. I promise. Go back to sleep.”

Ahsoka doesn’t want to, but her heavy eyelids leave her no choice.

#shockingly i am not dead #anakin #obi-wan #ahsoka #hurt/comfort #hypothermia #protective obi-wan #anon #whump #tcw era #meg fills a prompt for once #mpost

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littlecrookedheart · 5 years

Text

The Obi-Wan

Pairing : Tom x Clove

Rating : 18+ NSFW. By seeing this warning, you are consenting to read what includes a sexual encounter, and confirming that you are of legal age to do so.

Word Count : 1,802

Author’s Note : This is for my thirst crew. You asked and you shall receive.

Disclaimer : I do not own these characters. I’ve added a bit of a flare to them for the sake of this piece, but they do not belong to me.

With the entirety of the theater packed, leaving three spots empty in various places, Tom's patience had grown thin.

“We don't have to stay,” Clove suggested, pressing the side of her face to his shoulder, body to body as the amount of patrons would have it.

“I bought these tickets exactly four minutes after they went on sale. I'll be damned if we don't see this movie tonight.”

She looked around, craning her neck to check the locations of the empty spots.

“We could ask those people to scoot down? They seem to all be together. That way, we'd have the two end seats next to each other.”

Nodding, Tom wedged his way through the array of people, leaning in to ask a tall man in overalls, “Hey! Would you guys mind moving down one? There's no seats left and we could sit at the end if everyone shifts down one.”

“That's not happening,” he replied, “I need my space. I'm a big man.”

“I understand, but it would be a huge help-”

“Why don't your girlfriend sit in this seat and you can sit at the end,” The man winked, “I wouldn't mind that at all.”

Tom instinctively put his arm in front of Clove, a snarled look crossing his face.

“Or you can sit here and she can sit on the end. I'm not picky.”

“This is no use,” Tom whispered back to her, “Try the other side?”

Clove made her way back around the section, reaching over to tap a woman to get her husband's attention.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Hi, my boyfriend and I are trying to find a place to sit, would you mind scooting down just one spot so we can sit on this end together?”

The woman's husband looked over and observed the man in overalls, chuckling and rolling his eyes.

“Sorry miss,” the wife replied, “That seat's for my aunt.”

“Your aunt? We’re already into the previews, shouldn't she be here by now?”

“Maybe you'd have a place to sit if you kids knew a thing about punctuality.”

Clove bit her tongue, taking a deep breath before stomping away, meeting Tom at the side of the room.

“Why are people so rude?”

“What did she say?”

“That the spot is for her nonexistent aunt.”

Just then, an employee approached them from behind, “Excuse me? The film is about to begin, please take your seats.”

“We’ve been trying,” Tom sighed, pulling out his phone to bring up his email verification. “I ordered these tickets four minutes after they went on sale,” he showed the employee the screen, raising an eyebrow, “If we have to sit on the floor, that's fine by me.”

“Sir, that isn't allowed. Please follow me and we can get this figured out.”

“But the movie-”

“Sir, please.”

“Just go, baby,” Clove whispered, slipping her fingers between Tom's.

“This is a joke...right?”

“I'm afraid not, sir. It seems all of our showings are booked through Tuesday.”

“You're the only theater in Pine Springs. You sold me a ticket nearly a month ago, and somehow now I have to wait five more days to see the biggest film in the country? I prepared for this!”

“I understand that you're upset, but there is nothing I can do for you. You were late.”

Clove shook her head, laughing, “What's your name?”

The employee looked confused before pointing to his name tag that read FRANK W.

She squared her shoulders, her normally patient eyes burning with frustration. “Listen to me, ‘Frank W from the movie theater,’ My boyfriend is the most amazing person I have ever known. He has saved my life more than once and I mean that literally, so before you tell him that he can't see a movie he paid to see almost a month ago, which also just so happens to be his favorite franchise, you need to know that you're turning away Pine Springs’ biggest hero!”

“Clove, you don't-”

“Stop, Tom.” She turned to Frank, “You're familiar with Parker Shaw, I'm sure.”

Frank nodded and crossed his arms, “What about him?”

“Tom has saved his life, too. So if you don't want me to call our lovely resident bestie and police chief down here right now, sort this out!”

“Thanks for trying,” Tom groaned, clapping Parker on the back.

“I have influence, but not over movie seats. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Catch a midnight showing the next town over.”

“Alright. I gotta get back to the station, but let me know if there's anything I might actually be able to help with.”

Parker tipped his head toward the two of them before driving off in his car.

“Wanna go on a walk?” Clove asked, linking her arm with his.

“I'm not in the mood for anything that isn't Star Wars related.”

“We've got a few hours to kill. Come on, dork. We can let off some steam.”

Tom gave her a small, sad smile, letting her lead the way a bit more down the road. She turned behind a row of shops, guiding him into an empty, narrow alley. With no lights in sight, only the faint glow of the moon illuminated the alleyway, Tom's silhouette slumping next to her as they walked.

“I have an idea,” she said, pushing him over toward the brick wall. “Have you ever wanted to fuck me in public?”

Tom's eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“I mean...this isn't public, public. But it's as risky as I'll get,” her hands shoved him to the wall, lips moving down his neck.

“You're acting like a crazy person!” Tom blurted, his breath caught in his throat as her hands ran down his chest.

“You don't want me?”

“Of course I do! But maybe not somewhere where literally anyone can show up at any moment-”

“Tommy, relax.”

Clove kneeled in front of him, tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she undid his pants.

Tom looked around frantically, his breaths as heavy as his nerves weighed on him.

“Tonight was a disaster. Let me distract you, you shouldn't keep all of that stress built up in your body.”

“How am I supposed to relax? We’re in an alley, Clove! This isn't-” He gasped, eyes shutting as his hands found the curls on her head, “Fuck.”

Her mouth moved further down his shaft, eyes watering as she took him in her mouth entirely.

Tom whimpered, losing himself in the moment, fingers tangling in her hair as she sucked him. She slipped her tongue over his balls, playing with them gently, taking them into her mouth and teasing his cock with the brush of her lips. He'd lost his concern with being caught, focusing only on the way she seemed to pull pleasure from him like trick handkerchiefs from a hand, unwinding him with each bob of her head.

He could feel himself shiver, tighten, threaten his release as his cock twitched on her tongue. He felt her stand up, moving his touch from her hair to her waist holding her close as she kissed him fiercely. She hiked her leg onto his hip, making him quickly grab hold of her thigh, sliding herself onto him.

“Oh my god, baby,” he panted, readjusting his hold on her body. He hoisted her upward, turning around to press her back against the brick wall, her legs locked around him. Fingers digging into her thighs, he rocked his hips into her, feeling her arousal seep down his skin with each thrust.

“Tommy…”

She unbuttoned the top of her blouse, pulling her breasts over her bra. Her nipples formed peaks against the chill of the air, the friction from his shirt against them making her shiver.

He groaned, breath hot on her neck, “You feel so amazing.”

“Faster,” she ached, her body pulling him closer with each of her breaths. The swell between her thighs grew, beckoning the swirl of her fingers on her slick nub. “Just like that...”

Tom's hips bucked harder, surprising the both of them with a rotation he didn't know he had in him. Clove sank her teeth into his neck, moaning deeply.

She met his gaze and smiled before trailing her tongue along his earlobe, “I'm.. oh, Tommy-” followed by a loud cry, her canal contracting tightly around him.

Tom's eyes rolled back as he slowed his pace, riding out her pleasure, crushing his lips to hers.

She pulled back, holding his gaze in hers, a smirk forming on her lips.

“No, kiss me again,” he said, a cloud forming from his breath. “Don't ever stop kissing me.”

Clove locked her lips with his, picking up speed with her hips. His hands rubbed her skin, holding her against him, the sound of his moans making her body swim with desire. She broke away to gasp as she coaxed his orgasm from him, his warmth erupting inside of her.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, his lips being met by hers once more, hiking his pants up while still moving their mouths together.

“I love you,” he smiled between kisses, “I never want to live without you.”

“Who says you have to?”

She straightened her outfit, taking his hand with a grin. “Where to?”

“Food?”

“Sounds like a plan. Chinese?”

“It's been awhile since we got that. All of a sudden, it's all I'm craving.”

“Thanks to that quickly, I'm craving…” She glanced sidelong at him, stifling a laugh, “Something of a different-”

“Don't-”

“Aw come on, ‘sempai,’” she cackled, elbowing him playfully.

“I wish I'd never told you that story.”

“You love it when I tease you though!”

Clove stopped walking, turning toward him, “Hey. I love you, you know.”

Tom wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, the scent of her cucumber shampoo inviting and comforting. “I love you, too.”

For a moment, they were locked in embrace, gentle breaths and relaxed hearts soaking in each others touch.

“Okay, enough sap. I'm starving!” Clove laughed, pressing one more kiss to his lips, “I have all of the time in the world to love on you. You'd better believe, we will pick this up later tonight.”

Tom's heart skipped a beat as if she were still a crush who finally smiled to him, his chest filling with warmth. “Wait.”

"Hmm?"

Tom cocked an eyebrow, smirking devilishly. “I just wanted to say….you're the Obi-Wan for me.”

Clove turned away, suppressing laughter as best she could. She covered her mouth, looking at him like she'd never heard anything funnier than his stupid pun.

“You're just BB-GR8!”

“Tom!”

He chuckled, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. And that's when he knew that she was his end game, the only person he'd ever want to share these moments...all moments, with. She was the present and the future and all of the seconds in between. He could feel his eyes mist ever so slightly, thinking to himself, ‘After all this time...I'm finally home.’

Thirst Brigade Tags : @teamtomsato @madhattterusagi @choicesthot @thedepthsremember @pixelburied @breaumonts @eileendannie @endlessflame @runtimeregan @tiz-rex Perma Tags : @europeanguy @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesatnight @beckettitbitch @writtenbycandy

#tom sato #tom x clove #ns*w #write things

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spacehologramcollection · 6 years

Text

Dungeons and Dragons, clone style.

Start of a small fic i started writing, this is sort of part one so if you want more please tell me!

“I’m not playing.” Rex stated not looking up from his damage report. Fives snorted before looking at Cody who was also filing in his. “Told you they wouldn’t play… their just scared of losing to us shinnies.” Fives retorted whilst winking at Echo who looked glum. Even though Fives found the game weird, he wasn’t going to let Echo down. It was their first night off in ages and Echo had his hearts set on playing out his new story. He’d seen him writing it for weeks on an evening, the smile that his brother had made Fives happy. Cody and Rex both side eyed the pair for them.

“What do you mean by that?” Cody asked not sounding impressed by the suggestion. “I mean it would be awfully embarrassing if us rookies beat you in anything.” Fives replied. Rex and Cody glanced at each other before nodding back. “If we win. Will you promise to never make us play again?” Cody enquired sighing. Fives grinned before stretching. “Well you can’t really…” Fives kicked Echo. He clearly hadn’t understood that Fives was attempting to get them to play along. Rex raised an eyebrow before looking back at echo. “Can’t really what?” He inquired not sounding too sold on this pitch. “Nothing Sir. You can’t really let us win, can you?” Echo quickly backtracked. Fives was impressed by his brothers’ confidence, then again this game did this to him, it was a weird thing to witness. “I guess we can’t. We’d never live this down I guess we’ll be there in an hour.” Echo’s face lit up at Rex’s words. “It’s going to be fun this time, I promise!” He beamed before walking away with fives. Fives had little to no confidence in this being a fun time. As soon as the door slid behind them Fives relaxed. “You nearly blew it in there.” He whispered before shoving him lightly. Echo rubbed the back of his neck before smiling. He rolled his eyes before smiling back. He had no idea why he agreed to play this, he guessed he was bored, well he told himself that because he didn’t want to admit that he liked to make sure his brother was entertained. Since Heavy’s death they were all what was left of Domino Squad. He looked out for him and if that meant playing this then that’s what he’d do. “So that’s Rex, Cody, you, me and the Generals.” Echo raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Generals. “How did you get them roped into this?” Echo asked whilst fiddling with the dice in his hands. “I told them it was to help increase our team work skills.” Fives grinned.

All of them were sat around a table. Rex and Cody looked rather amused at the sight of the two Generals who looked confused at the handmade board that was in front of them. Anakin picked up a tree and studied it. “So… you made all of this?” He inquired raising a brow. Echo nodded proudly. “I make stuff when I can’t sleep on tour!” Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. “You could have been doing something more productive.” He muttered to which Cody elbowed him and smiled. “501st still the best?” He jested to which Rex smirked. Echo left to go grab something to which Fives sighed. “Fives have you played this before?” Obi Wan enquired. “Unfortunately. We played it in training, he used to tell us it was training related, can’t believe we believed that crap.” He smirked before picking up the piece that represented him. “Why does he do this?” Anakin asked to which Fives shrugged his shoulders. “I think it’s his ways of building confidence and forgetting about the war.” He had fixated on the piece that used to be Heavy’s and laughed at how battered it was. Heavy hated playing this, the angrier he got, the worse the consequences would be in game and thus more anger was created. “How many times have you won?” Rex asked, he wanted to weigh up the competition He wanted to ensure his and Cody's victory. Fives ignored the question not wanting them to pull out last minute. He drummed his fingers on the table till Echo reappeared. He didn’t want to give away that you couldn’t win this game. It was strange seeing their superiors in ‘normal clothing’ it made Fives relax slightly. It was the most casual he had ever seen them. “So who’s played before?” Echo asked nervously. He was ringing his hands together and had a nervous smile on his face. You know who’s played before you idiot... Fives thought to himself before sighing and raising his hands at his brother’s nervousness. The silence was deathly and awkward. He just stood there froze to the spot. He had never seen his confidence vanish as quickly as it had done. “S... So, I've made you all characters... each as their own skill levels and set... you. you have to roll to perform any action and... It gets added to your skill...” a few eyebrows raise at Echo’s brief explanation of the game... Fives could feel the confinement as he stuttered away trying to pull people into the game. “Basically. He’s going to tell a story. You’ll be met with different situations and you have to try and overcome them together.” Echo beamed at the explanation he had given and there were a few nods here and there.

Fives proceeded to pass out papers to people. Fives already had his from the last time he played. Everyone glanced down with some disapproving looks. He wasn’t sure if they were frowning at names, the skills or the crudely drawn drawings of them. “Why am I Zabrak?” Cody frowned a little whilst pointing to the scribble. Rex burst out laughing to which Cody smirked before pulling his sheet away from him. “You can talk you’re a Nautolan named Tails.” Cody retorted back to which Rex frowned before staring at Echo. “Tails? Really? I thought you was the creative one.” He stated rather un-amused. Fives shifted his gaze to Obi Wan who was smiling. “I’m a Duros called Fad Sun.” He stated delighted by that concept. “What are you General Skywalker?” Rex inquired. Anakin was staring intently at his paper; a sense of loathing was on his face. “He’s a Gungan.” Obi stated whilst peering over his shoulder. A chorus of laughter erupted. “Very funny. Why can’t I be something more… graceful and less Jar Jar like?” Anakin sulked. All eyes turned to Fives who sighed. “If it makes you feel better I’m a Twi’lek named Aeruk'voduh.” He muttered. “That’s an awfully feminine name.” Cody stated to which Fives gritted his teeth. “That’s because it is a female character.” Rex scoffed a laugh back. Anakin smirked. Obi tried not to laugh and Echo, the evil master mind behind this smiled innocently.

#clone trooper #clone trooper fic #the clone trooper #the clone wars #tcw #rex #fives #echo #cody #captain rex #commander cody #clone trooper fives #clone trooper echo #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #anakin #obi wan kenobi #clone wars

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mistical52 · 7 years

Text

Exchange

Star Wars Fanfic

Part of a series of time travel oneshots (Time Force Continuum)

Summary: A rebel loth-cat and a snippy padawan swap places. Only one of them didn’t exactly go to the right spot.

- - -

Everything was way too bright. Sunshine streamed through the tent, glaring at Ezra through the gap in the material door. The boy was about to roll over and go back to sleep, only he didn’t remember going to sleep in a tent. He could have sworn that he laid down in his bunk with Zeb snoring below. Edging up Ezra fingered his lightsaber as he felt out around him. There were a lot of people outside the tent, bustling around and yelling commands. It sounded like the rebel base, only slightly different. Suddenly Ezra’s senses touched a blinding light in the force. The boy instantly recalled his presence and hid himself under layers of shielding, hiding as best as he could. Despite the fact that the light was so easy and warm Ezra was so used to hiding from anything remotely force sensitive and he wasn’t about to let go of the habit that had kept him alive for so long. Ezra stiffened and stood up, the presence was coming towards him, karabast! Unhooking his lightsaber Ezra scanned for an exit, though theoretically the whole structure was an exit, it was just material and he could easily cut through it with a single swipe of his sabre. Unfortunately downing a tent in a populated camp would surely be noticed. Ezra saw the shadow of a looming being and for a second he though he heard a cold harsh hiss of Vader’s respirator.

The tall man tore back the floppy excuse for a door and stared with wide eyes at Ezra for the briefest moment before his surprisingly young face morphed into a dark scowl. “Where is Ahsoka?” The man asked. Everything about this guy screamed ‘do not mess with’ from his posture to his voice, even his force presence. “Who?” “Don’t play games with me. One moment Ahsoka was here and the next she’s gone and you’re in her place. Who are you and what have you done with my padawan?!” The man growled stalking a step closer to Ezra. The man did look familiar, Ezra knew he’d seen him before but he couldn’t recall where. “Anakin!” Another voice snapped, “He’s just a boy!” The other voice said as the man with a well-trimmed beard came into view. “This boy is where Ahsoka should be!” Exclaimed the taller man gesturing roughly to Ezra. “Master Skywalker?” Ezra asked finally recognizing the man. Ezra only vaguely noticed how Anakin’s head snapped towards the rebel. “And Master Kenobi?” Ezra felt weak in the knees, he was so glad that it wasn’t an enemy. The rebel sat back heavily in the bed and ran his hand over his recently cut hair, “I must be having a dream. Or a vision, like the one of Yoda. And you’re alive! Well, of course you’re alive.” Started Ezra gesturing loosely to Obi-wan, “You sent out the message. But Master Skywalker, I thought you were dead. Everyone thinks you dead. Ahsoka thought you were dead.” The last part was quiet. He couldn’t, Ahsoka, the loss was still too fresh.

Ezra’s mind quickly switched gears and he jumped up with a smile on his face, “Kanan will be so happy to know that you’re alive! Maybe you can help him. He, hasn’t been much of himself lately … Though I’m sure with other Jedi around he’ll feel a whole lot better. I try my best but there’s not a lot I can do.” Ezra gave another excited jump and continued, not actually paying attention to the confused looks the two Jedi shared, “And the Rebellion! If you two helped I know we could turn the tides! We’d finally be able to defeat the Empire and bring back peace!”

~~~

Everything was way too dark. The black depth was dotted with the occasional red specks that, to Ahsoka, indicated a storage facility. The low rumbling of the engines tried to lull her back to sleep. But the cold darkness, more than just the inky shadows around her, squeezed at her heart and yanked at her force senses. It was like the stain of Dooku, only worse, much, much worse and way too close for her liking. The whole ship reeked of the Dark side. In fact, Ahsoka’s breath hitched, whoever the fiery darkness belonged to was still on board. She hastily clamped down on her presence, hushing it till it was hopefully dull enough to seem like just another crew member. Slipping off the crates she had been sleeping on Ahsoka tried to get her bearings. At the present she had no idea where she was. Last time the Togruta checked she had dropped down onto her bed in the 501st and the 212th’s campsite. Someone would have woken her if they had to move and they certainly wouldn’t have dumped her in a storage hanger if they couldn’t. Ahsoka snuck around and scouted out the area. Judging by the hum of the engines they were probably in hyperspace, and on a rather large ship. Though the last judgment partially came from the sheer size of the storage hanger. It was huge, the ship was at least the size of a Republic Cruiser. Skulking around the larger crates and the tall shelves Ahsoka found out where the door was, and the fact that there was only one door. There were also a couple of vents she could get into if she climbed the shelves and had a force assisted jump. But Ahsoka would rather not climb into the vents unless she had to. She didn’t know this ship and if it was a big as she though it was then it was likely she’d get lost. The Togruta reached out subtly, as to not draw the attention of the darksider beast, and tried to grab her master’s attention. Ahsoka couldn’t feel him. She couldn’t feel the vast light that was her master, all she could feel was the dark burning that drenched the ship in the colder side of the force. The padawan tried Obi-wan as well but the darkness stifled the bond to her grandmaster. Frustration and a hint of fear bubbled up but Ahsoka quickly let them out with her next breath.

Suddenly the room felt much colder as the only doors hissed open. Ahsoka hid, jumping silently behind a stack of crates and stifling her breath. Harsh light spilled into the inky depths of the hanger. The force was so cold yet at the same time that burning darkness was horrifically close. The Jedi learner dimmed her force presence to nothing as the hiss of a respirator echoed on the walls. “I know you’re in here. Come out.” A deep baritone voice hung in the air. He was, nothing was supposed to be this cold, nothing should be this dark. Oh sweet force what had she walked into? Ahsoka clenched her teeth and tried ease down her nerves. The darksider, Sith, he was definitely a Sith what else could hold that much darkness? Wasn’t alone, there were other beings outside the blast doors, probably waiting in case she tried to run. The shadows were weighing down on her, trying to drown her. She had to get out.

Ahsoka smoothly ran and leapt, latching onto one of the towering shelves before scaling it silently with ease. Using the force she wrenched open a vent and launched herself up towards it, the force boosting her movements. As Ahsoka jumped something tugged at her ankle, pulling her off balance and forcing her to dive back down to the floor. The all-powerful essence cushioned her improvised landing. Rolling to keep her momentum the Togruta whipped out her sabres, igniting them and stood battle ready. Ahsoka didn’t know how long she’d last but if she was going to go out, it was going to be fighting.

~~~

“The Empire?” Obi-wan asked while his former padawan took an entirely different route. “Ahsoka thinks I’m dead?” “Yeah, you’ve been missing for” Ezra quickly counted, “sixteen years.” Anakin gawked, “That’s not possible.” “Anakin’s right, he hadn’t even joined the order then. I believe you have us confused with another pair.” Ezra shook his head, what where they getting at? “The Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear right? Rex and Cody are your commanding troopers and Ahsoka was Master Skywalker’s padawan.” There was only a small beat of silence as a light scowl crept across Anakin’s face. “What do you mean was?” “Don’t you remember, she, left the order.” Now Ezra was confused, why didn’t Master Skywalker remember something so important? Before the taller man could cry out his disbelief the tent flap was opened and Rex slipped in. Ezra flinched at the white armour and his fingers twitched towards his sabre. “I’m sorry Generals but we’ve got a schedule to keep, you can’t just keep talking to the Commander all day.” The Clone only had eyes for Anakin and Obi-wan before he turned to Ezra. The only outward sign of Rex’s surprise was how he stiffened ever so slightly. “Rex?” Ezra started joy radiating from his as he recognising the clone’s markings, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell us these two were alive?!” The Rebel stepped towards the Clone feeling more at ease with a familiar person.

“I’m sorry kid but who are you?” Rex asked, he didn’t expect to be recognised by a Jedi outside of the handful he knew. The kid was probably a learner still, but that still begged the question, where was Commander Tano? “It’s me Ezra Bridger. Don’t tell me you ran into a pipe again.” The boy said with a smirk, like he knew him. Rex bristled, he ran into a pipe that one time and everyone gossips about that embarrassing moment? “Look kid, sir I have never met you before.” Rex responded honestly, choosing to not even acknowledge the pipe comment. The orange cladded kid folded his arms with a playful smile, “Yeah right. Still Rex you should have told Hera or Kanan that you knew some other Jedi.” Rex sighed, he didn’t know what was going on but he was curtain that it was Jedi business. The Captain pulled off his helmet and looked the kid in the eyes, “K-Sir I have never met you before.” In an instant the boy jumped back and ignited his lightsaber. Staring straight at Rex he opened his mouth, “Who are you?!” Every instinct Rex had was screaming at him to defend himself but he pushed past that as he heard the hiss of General Skywalker’s sabre, “You said it before kid, I’m Captain Rex of the Five’o-First.” Rex said calmly holding his free hand up, “I may know your name now sir, but I still don’t know who you are. So would you like to tell us how you seem to know me?”

“You’re not Rex. You’re not the Rex I know. But, he, he was the Captain of the Five’o-First and he was friends with Ahsoka. And he knew and worked under Master Skywalker.” Ezra’s head was spinning, what in the name of the force was going on?! “He also told good stories about his brother Cody and Master Kenobi, and the battles of the Clone Wars.” Ezra took in a shaky breath as Anakin slid in front of Rex, keeping his Captain safely behind him. “You, you sound like him, you talk like him, in the force you feel like him, you have the Jaig eyes on your helmet in the same colour. It’s the same kriffing helmet too. You just don’t look like him.” Ezra deactivated his lightsaber and tried to take in calming breaths, he was panicking and he knew it. Something just didn’t feel right, something just felt wrong. “This isn’t a dream is it.” Ezra whispered.

His General noticed that the kid was panicking and lowered his weapon slightly and once the boy switched his off so did Skywalker. Rex’s General slowly edged closer to the boy clearly not sure what to do. Captain Rex on the other hand slipped right by General Skywalker and gently grabbed the boy, Ezra’s shoulder. “Hey kid it’s alright, no one’s gonna hurt you. Here just sit down.” Rex started gently pushing the teen down onto the bed. He’d dealt with some of his brothers having a panic attack, it wasn’t often but sometimes the war got to them. “General can you get Ezra some drinking water?” “Sure.” Responded Anakin putting his long legs to work and hurried out of the tent.

~~~

“Guard the door and monitor the vents. Make sure she can’t escape.” Commanded the thundering voice. The men in white scrambled to obey the Sith’s commands. The men weren’t vod, the armour was wrong it looked flimsy and too clean. Imposter’s then, they were probably planning an attack from behind. Ahsoka had to stop them! That was, if she could get past the looming monster of darkness. The door closed behind the last of the Clone imposters as they hurried about their duties. As soon as the door shut the bay was plunged back into darkness with the only light being the small cargo lights, Ahsoka’s sabres and the Sith’s life support suit. A ghastly breath was drawn in by darksider, “Ahsoka?” Her name was drawn out in that deep voice and it sent a spike of fear down her spine. How did he know her name?! “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” The snippy padawan snapped, her bravo squashing some of her fear. Ahsoka was about to turn off her lightsabers and use the cover of darkness to hide but the hangers lights suddenly clicked on. The Togruta winced and closed her eyes against the blinding lights then she realised that she was open to attack. Ahsoka jumped back using the force to boost her and guide her. But the padawan nether heard the hiss of a sabre nor felt the danger of an attack. When Ahsoka could open her eyes she found the Sith exactly where he was before, having never moved an inch. He had the perfect opportunity to attack, why didn’t he? Was he waiting for it to be a fair match? Because if he was then he’d have to wait several more years before she would probably even prove a decent opponent. Unless this guy had a low lightsaber aptitude? Ahsoka doubted it. The pawawan shot destress and determination across the bond to her master, hoping that he would figure out she was in trouble. The man, if he could even be called that seemed to stiffen ever so slightly. Did she broadcast her emotions aloud? If so why did he stiffen instead of attacking? And why was he just standing there?

After a cold moment the Sith started to move forward and Tano tensed. The Sith seemed to hesitate then stepped back to where he was. “Ahsoka, what are you doing here?” She’d like to know that herself, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sith.”

Ahsoka was getting desperate, she didn’t know what this Sith was doing or what his motives were. He hadn’t even tried to kill her and yet he had a ship full of fake vod. Ahsoka knew that whatever his plan was she wouldn’t like it. She needed to contact her master, she needed to warn him about the danger. Ahsoka doubted that she would live through this so she had to make sure that someone knew. The Togruta grabbed the force and pushed past the cold, latching onto the training bond and following it to her master. Skyguy’s end was a bit rough around the edges, which was weird, but it was still there. Ahsoka was so relieved when she found it, and he was so close. Master, there’s another Sith and they’re- But Ahsoka cut herself off when she reached the end and only found that dark burning in the spot where Anakin Skywalker should be. Ahsoka snapped out of the force the world sharply coming into focuses around her. The Togruta barely registered it when she dropped her sabres. The Sith stepped forward arms outstretches as if to steady the teen but he thought better of it and stayed where he was. The fiery darkness was all around her and the padawan hugged herself, as if to shield herself from it. Ahsoka slowly looked up to the Sith with sad pleading eyes, “Master?” It was little more than a croaky whisper. The man didn’t say anything but his silence was conformation enough. Before Ahsoka stood her master, Anakin Skywalker a Sith.

~~~

It wasn’t long before General Skywalker returned with a canteen of water and by then Rex and General Kenobi had managed to calm down the kid a little. “I’m sorry. I realised that I’m not where I’m supposed to be.” Ezra said before taking a drink from the canteen. “That’s an understatement.” Skywalker said folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Ezra who is your master?” The older general asked. “Kanan, Kanan Jarrus.” Came Ezra’s instant response. Rex recognised the name, the kid had said it before when he said that Rex should have told him about other Jedi. What did he mean by other Jedi? “You might know him better as Caleb Dume?” Ezra added with a question in his tone. The two Jedi shared a glance, “Do you know him?” General Skywalker asked Obi-wan. Kenobi toyed with his beard, “Yes I know a being in the Temple by that name. Although he is thirteen.” “Thirteen, as in years?” Anakin asked with doubt that could be seen even several klicks away. “That’s the only person. He’s only an initiate.” Informed General Kenobi.

Ezra chocked on the water he was drinking, “Kanan’s thirteen?” He spluttered. “I wonder what he looks like without his beard?” “If he’s anything like Obi-wan then he’ll look baby faced.” Suggested Anakin with a humorous tone. “Considering he’s younger than me I’d bet.” “If you don’t mind how old are you kid?” Rex asked trying to be polite. “Older than you.” Ezra said with a playful yet snide smirk, “I’m sixteen.” “If you’re anything like Anakin then I pity your master.” Obi-wan said somewhat mimicking Anakin’s earlier joke. “Hey,” Master Skywalker protected as Kenobi smirked. Rex spoke up, “In my book-” “Experience outranks everything. I know.” Ezra said with an eye roll. He knew Rex’s motto. Both Jedi and Rex looked genuinely surprised. “I’ve worked with the old man a couple of times.” Ezra said with an easy shrug. “Old man?” Rex asked looking half insulted. “Yeah well where, when I come from you have this bushy white beard” Started Ezra gesturing around his own jaw, “and a shaved head with a-” The Rebel froze. He didn’t have the scar. Rex didn’t have the scar from when his chip was removed. Ezra grabbed Rex’s head and twisted it from side to side looking for the scar.

“Karabast!” Ezra cried standing up and letting go of poor Rex’s head, quickly turning to the Jedi, “You have to get it out.” “What?” Asked Master Skywalker. “The chip, you have to get the chip out!” Ezra said starting to get frantic. He didn’t know when the order was activated, for all he knew it could be tomorrow. He couldn’t just let them all die. He couldn’t let Rex and his friends suffer. “Ezra calm down, what chip?” Master Kenobi inquired gently. “The chip. All the clones have chips inside their heads. You have to get them out now!” Rex looked alarmed and Anakin was scowling. “Why do we need to remove them with such haste young one?” Kenobi asked somehow managing to remain neutral. “Because otherwise the Clones will kill the Jedi.” Ezra blurted. A hand sharply took his shoulder and spun him around. “What?” Started Rex, “My brothers and I would never do such a thing. How dare you even-” “Not you the chips! The chips make you and your brothers little more than droids.” Explained Ezra. “And, how would you, know that.” Questioned Rex as he jabbed the Rebel’s chest. “Because Kanan told me. Because you told me, because Ahsoka told me. Because Wolfie and Gregor told me! Because you all watched as it happened.” Ezra cried waving his arms the feelings for those he cared about ringing clear in his voice and through the force. The tent was silent, the only thing that stirred was the breezes that brushed against the material structure.

“You, Gregor and Wolfie removed your chips before the order. But you didn’t manage to convince anyone else.” Bridger started quietly. “What happened to the rest of my brothers?” Came a near whisper from the Captain. “Some died fighting the Jedi, but it was mostly the Jedi who were whipped out. Others stayed in the army and served the Empire. I’m sorry but I don’t know what else happened. I’ve only been told bits from, well mostly you and Kanan with a little from Ahsoka, Wolfie and Gregor.” “So Ahsoka’s fine?” Rex asked. “I.” Ezra couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t look at Master Skywalker or Master Kenobi so he stared at his feet as he shifted them. “She survived the extermination. But, she.” Ezra swallowed trying again and looked straight at Rex. “She died recently saving Kanan and I from a Sith.” The shock and cold emptiness jumped out through the force shaking Ezra’s core. Some of the emotions came from Rex and a little from Kenobi though most of them radiated from Skywalker. “No. She can’t be. She was here only a few minutes ago, how can she be dead?!” Rage and other dark emotions started crawling out from Master Skywalker, “Who killed her?” He snapped. Ezra tried to remain calm, this was to be expected, Anakin Skywalker was Ahsoka’s master after all. “A Sith named Darth Vader.” The Rebel answered. The anger died a little and Master Skywalker faltered, “I, I haven’t heard of a Sith by that name.” “He appeared around the start of the Empire. And he is not someone you want to mess with.” Ezra said as he shuddered. He never wanted to be near Vader again, if he could help it.

~~~

Ahsoka took a step forward. “Master, that’s really you isn’t it.” Ahsoka quickly scooped up her lightsabers and kept gradually moving forward. “Master, where am I?” She asked tenderly. There was a pause for a moment before the huge man answered, “In hyperspace.” The Jedi padawan snorted, “I guessed that. But where are we?” Another pause, was he trying to be dramatic or did he actually need to think about it? “On my flag ship, the Devastator.” He finally replied. “And where are we going?” Ahsoka pressed. “That is none of your concern.” Her master responded. Ahsoka didn’t manage to resist the urge to roll her eyes even as she stepped closer to the dark presence. “Can you at least tell me why you’re, different?” Ahsoka said not being able to stomach the word, Sith. He seemed to carefully consider this question. “The galaxy is no longer the one you left it as. The Clone Wars has finished. It finished almost sixteen years ago.” Ahsoka froze as her stomach churned. Sixteen years, it had been at least sixteen years! “It can’t be. You’re lying.” The padawan tried but she could feel the truth in his words. “I will not lie to you Ahsoka.” Confessed the Sith. “The vod.” Ahsoka started grabbing at her chest, “What about my vod?” She asked as she looked at the dark man with wide imploring eyes. “No longer in service.” Informed her master in that cold voice that echoed throughout the hanger. Her look must have done something though because he master took a step forward gently, “The ones who survived retired.” He elaborated sounding a smidge less harsh. “Did. Did we win?” Ahsoka asked softly. “Yes.” The Togruta let out a small sigh, all of their work, all of the loss had not been for nothing. “Follow me.” The Sith, Ahsoka’s master instructed before turning and walking towards the door. “Do not bother trying to escape, we will be in hyperspace for several more days.” Ahsoka followed, “I could hide from you for longer than that.” The door opened and her master paused tilting his helmet towards her just a fraction. “Do you wish to test that theory?” Once again Ahsoka was reminded that Anakin, the beautiful bright light was now a burning darkness within the force. He was a Sith, she should stop thinking of him as her master.

The fake troopers raised their blasters at her when she exited. “Stand down.” Commanded Skywalker his voice booming through the volocator. “Return to your posts I will deal with the Togruta.” The impostors in white saluted then ran off to their duties.

The hall was quiet with the faint sound of footsteps in the distance. Ahsoka and her master were alone again. Her master, the Sith started moving again striding down the hall at an impressive speed for someone only walking. “What do I call you? Do you still go by Anakin Skywalker or do you go by something else?” The padawan asked not really wanting the answer. “Anakin Skywalker is dead.” Said the cold voice far too easily, “My title is Darth Vader.” A stiff breath entered Tano’s lungs. This was all one big mess. One impressive pile of poodoo. “What happened to you?” Ahsoka asked softly. For a second she thought her twisted master didn’t hear her, then the armoured man spun around so fast Ahsoka almost tripped backwards. “You left me.” Vader hissed. Ahsoka’s eyes widened, “What, I would never-” Started the padawan, but Darth Vader cut her off. “Padme betrayed me, Obi-wan burnt and maimed me!” The dark lord growled. “No” Ahsoka started to deny, “we would never-” She paused. The young Togruta felt his searing rage through the force. She had felt her master’s anger before but never like this. The padawan didn’t want to believe it, but between the force singing ‘truth’, the wrath behind his words and the sheer power of his fury that expanded though the force she couldn’t be ignorant any longer. The young Togruta set herself, setting her determination in a new goal. “Well I won’t leave you! Not this time.” Ahsoka ended softly. The man’s rage faltered, if only for a moment. “Say whatever you please youngling, it will make no difference.” Said the Sith with his diminished rage that faded every second. Her master spun on his heels before proceeding down the corridor.

- - -

I hope that you enjoyed! There’s more on my Ao3, sorry that tumblr is behind.

Have an excellent day or night!

#star wars #fanfiction #Ahsoka Tano #ezra bridger #Anakin Skywalker #captain rex #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Darth Vader #time travel

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