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#I hope it burned down when order 66 went through
pileofsith · 2 years
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Do I put up the first comic page like a champ or do I practice self-restraint and build up at least a few pages first? :-/
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moonlight-sonata99 · 2 years
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My headcanons of The Bad Batch falling in love with a jedi
SO... i wrote a thing, I want to get better at writing so i'm hoping to write more of these!!please note that i've written before when i was 12- im 18 now XD so i hope to get better!!
For now, Please enjoy my headcanons for The Bad Batch!!!
My headcanons The Bad batch falling in love with a jedi reader
Sidenote
Takes place after order 66,Reader was a Jedi knight who was once mace windu’s padawan. And reader is based off a oc of a another fanfic in the works!
Hunter
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 Loml💖💖💖
Hmmm hunter I imagine a very VERY slow burn for him. Not to say that the rest of batch would be slow but I feel hunter would take extremely long at realizing his feelings
The man literally was a soldier then a dad-
So imagine his feelings when he and the reader actually start getting close. His heart would go doki doki and he would just be like.. wtf?
And obviously omega has to like you,how would she not like you?
Hunter will fall even harder when he sees the reader having a genuine interaction with omega.
Even though they're gone I still wanna add them so…
Cut lawquane and Suu already know what's up. Hunter can't hide it from them.
So does Rex, I'd like to think that Rex would be happy seeing his comrade falling in love after such events happened. 
Hunter tried to ignore these feelings but..it doesn't work. They just grew. 
As time passes he stars accepting that he MAY like(love) you 
And recently with his heightened senses he has been feeling eyes on him…
Overall very confused at first and takes the time to think about his feelings.
Echo
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Like hunter he would be slow but not that slow, considering reader is a Jedi and went through order 66 they would have trauma. 
Enter trauma buddies
I vision the reader befriending echo first. Due to the fact that echo knows how scared you might be of clones at the moment. 
Despite being a bit grumpy echo is very sweet. He's very considerate of your needs. And with time,He knows what triggers you. He also weirdly helps you to open up more but you remain very quiet. 
Friends to lovers trope ftw- 
It would begin when the batch and reader are on a mission for Sid when things go wrong, as usual. And reader gets lightly hurt and echo's freaking out 
Then he hears a laugh 
"Won't you calm down? I just sprained my foot. I can heal it" you chuckle with a gentle smile 
And echo's face just goes red
Also to note, this man will ALWAYS be at your side. He's a puppy and it's adorable.
Also staying up late and planning for future missions are yours and echo's thing don't @ me. 
Tech
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ayo this GIF
OOHH  I just love this man's to he reminds me of myself knowing a lot of useless info-
 I think tech isn't very shy? Maybe to an extent!but i think he wouldn't really show much as the others.
 in the beginning you and tech wouldn't be very close,but one day you ask him what he's working on  out of boredom and he goes on to tell you the whole declaration of independence-
he's used to people zoning out while he's explaining (cough) wrecker (cough)
but no, to his surprise you're still actually interested!!
and you listened.
after this tech somewhat limits himself to talking to much but he always ends up getting lost in his words. Especially if what peaked his interest is in depth. But you never seem to mind.
Like echo he would be next to you always. His go to if you will when he needs help
And get ready from a lot of questions about jedis and the order i feel like he would be very curious about that topic.once you get comfortable talking about it of course.
a couple of months  with being with the batch you go on a separate mission on a lead that your old master might be alive.
after you first told the batch of this tech was strangely quiet for the rest of your time there…
Wrecker
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•Ngl I haven't really thought about this one, But I'll try my best!!!
•wrecker is a very fun loving man, and that's very admirable. 
• I imagine wrecker would be the one to get readers out of their shell more faster than the other guys. 
•What do you expect? He's so lovable. 
•but this of course didn't come with its own trial and errors…
•in the early stages there were sometimes where he would try to help you out, however this meant grabbing you and throwing you up a high wall when you could've forced jumped-
•as you can imagine reader was caught of guard °_°
•But all was forgiven when the wrecker sought you out privately and awkwardly apologized.
 •for falling in love. The feeling would come to him awkwardly and he somewhat embraces that! 
 •this would include giving you random trinkets that remind you of him
•inviting you out to his tradition with omega after missions
•being protective during missions
•compliments 
•being very obvious.
•I mean…More obvious than hunter and echo combined.
Crosshair
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Damn that gif STGG
•whoever told you this mf would be sweet to you if he ever did like you-
•idk what to tell you💀💀
•you know that thing children do when they have a crush on another kid and there just mean to them?
•that's crosshair. 
•I knowW this man would be anything but nice to you.
•and that because he's most likely not used to liking someone.
•that being said, I read somewhere that crosshair would make you chase after him. I find that true imo, idk it just makes sense to me he would do that-
•BUT I do also think he would be the one who lowkey flirts with you the most but he would be very VERY subtle,And only do it when he gets comfortable with you. Examples being when you and him would be bickering and he would say something that would make you stay quiet and he uses that God daMn nice voice of his-  or with subtle touches.
• I do like to think that as time passes by he gets a bit more bolder and somewhat overprotective-
•also the reader actually taking the time to know crosshair would be very appealing to him I think, I just feel crosshair needs someone to talk to in Canon, just don't let him know you're a Jedi🗿
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Uhh idk how to end these,..but i do really hope to write more!! as for request im not sure about that just yet!!anyways if you read this far thank you!! please be kind as this is my first time writing this kind of stuff;; okay enjoy TBB and stay safe!!!!
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distortionbobble · 2 years
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supernova //final
one | two | three
pairing: anakin skywalker x f!poc!reader
summary: you face the consequences of loving anakin. 
warnings: minors dni. death of a child, order 66 in general, kinda suicidal thoughts, mentions of pregnancy, elements of masochism/sadism?, choking, angst, biting, the whole smut shebang, canon levels of violence, anakin is very much the way he is at the end of revenge of the sith but maybe exaggerated for my own twisted desires lmao
word count: 9.5k
a/n: i went a little off the rails with this one heehee but also i would totally love to talk about this fic more so i might post a separate more fleshed out a/n for funzies 
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Sixty nights without Anakin Skywalker. 
And not a single one has felt right. From the moment you were exiled from the Jedi Order, you’ve felt more and more that you’re only a bystander as the events of your life occur to someone else. You’re trapped on the outside, watching through walls of glass, suffocating silently with no one to hear, and no one to help. 
Each look of disappointment from those who once believed in you is burned into your mind. You never thought you’d live to see that, really. They’re all you see now when you go to sleep, like ghosts that chain you to the mistake that upended your life. 
Mistake. It feels wrong to think of Anakin as that. Some nights, the thought of him is the only thing that gives you the strength to keep breathing. You always find yourself reaching out to him, your heart trying desperately to fill the void of his body in a bed that he’s never been in. For so long, sleep just meant that— you and Anakin, together, safe, comfortable. Long before the forbidden tainted your feelings for him, back when he’d crawl into your bed because he had another nightmare and it was only with you that his mind went silent.
Master Windu has assigned you to an agriplanet, one far from what you were familiar with. Lothal imposes its dull monotony on you every day now, from its bleak sunrises to its equally lifeless sunsets. You work along a few of the Jedi who have chosen to work on the agriplanet as a means of escaping the war, exhausted and drained by combat. They’re just as tired as you are, but this place means something different to each of you. To them, it’s a place for recovery. To you, it’s a prison. A place where you’re forced to abandon your hopes and dreams. 
Each day is the same: wake up, wash yourself from head-to-toe, eat the bland food they serve at the eating halls before going to the farm. In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t mind it; in fact, maybe you’d find the repetition harmless. But now, the repetition only forces you to dwell on Anakin. What he’s doing, where he is. You wonder if he’s moved on to Padme now that he knows he’ll never see you again. You wouldn’t blame him if he did, but it’s the only thing you can think about, and it consumes you. Day and night. Jealousy and obsession burn at the edges of you because when you fell, you fell hard. 
The worst part of all of it is that you don’t feel like yourself anymore. You can’t recognize the person you’ve become. You stare at a ghost every morning in the mirror. If you’re not a Jedi, what are you? 
This morning is like every other— you’re woken by the gray light of sunrise as it creeps through your room, hoping the swell of nausea subdues itself before you get out of bed. The nausea made itself known to you only recently, only about a month ago. You pay it no mind. 
And then you sit, staring, trying hard to forget the mornings that you woke up next to Anakin. Trying to forget that you’re never gonna get that again. Trying not to think about what he’s doing, if he misses you as much as you miss him. 
The silence screams at you. You carry it with you, even as you leave your hut, surrounded by the chatter of Jedi who actually got to live their dreams. You wish that was you, that you’d gotten the chance to be the Knight you were raised to be. 
You’re jealous of them. So jealous. But you swallow down the anger and begin your work for the day, trying to ignore the sting of tears as you sink into your despair. More than once, you find your hands wandering to your belt, instinctively reaching for your lightsaber. You can’t remember a single day since you got it where it wasn’t clipped to your belt by the moment you woke up. Your lightsaber was like an extension of yourself, and you felt its absence after having taken it for granted for so long. Being a Jedi was more than just fighting. You missed that part of training, sure, but your mind was always hungry to learn, to fulfill that never-ending urge to know and do things better. Learning battle strategies, learning diplomatic tactics, working with others and learning how to make them bend. Now? You’re cut off and while your hands are busy, your mind is forced to wander. 
Anakin is your favorite distraction. What would he do if he was with you right now? He’d loathe this place, that’s for sure. He’s always lived so fast, driven by his impulses. You can almost hear him groaning about his boredom in your head, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his smile. You’re sure he’d make the dreary work a competition, bringing his own life and light to the task because that’s what he always did when he was with you. 
You almost wish you’d forget him. Erase his love from your mind. Maybe then, this separation wouldn’t be so painful. But what would you be without him? You loved, and you knew love, felt love. Love had taken careful hands and it had sculpted you, from the clay and the dust and the dirt, and it had sculpted you so grand before the fall. Oh, but how lovely was the fall? Misery is sweet on your tongue when you think of Anakin Skywalker. You can’t forget him, because he is your everything; to forget him would be to forget yourself. 
You’ve just sat down for dinner, body fatigued from the day, when a shadow is cast upon you, and you look up to see the smiling face of a woman you’ve only seen in passing. “Congratulations,” she says to you. “The baby will be as strong as its parents.” 
The spoon you’d been raising to your mouth falls from your hand and clatters to the ground. “What- what baby?” you stammer out. You’re sure the woman must be talking about someone else, because you’re sure you’re not pregnant. Maker, being pregnant would be a nightmare that you’re not prepared for. You’ve never even dreamed of having a child, too busy adhering to the Jedi Code. You can’t be pregnant, you just can’t be. 
The woman’s smile is unfazed as she reaches out to you, just lightly grasping your hand, and you can feel what she feels, what you hid from yourself for the past two months— a flickering presence, just barely there, deep within you. No. Your head swims and you gasp for air that just doesn’t seem sufficient. Panic floods your body at the realization that there is a living thing growing within you. A baby. Yours’ and Anakin’s baby. 
“Master Kenobi, I need Master Kenobi,” you mumble, shoving yourself away from the table and stumbling back to your hut. Your feet catch on the roots and rocks in the ground and your body slams into the walls of your hut as you shake in fear. You don’t know what to do. Can you do this? You’ve never been weaker, alone and afraid, without your best friend by your side. You need Obi-Wan, you need his guidance. 
You’re frantic as you turn on your hologram, hands trembling as you try to get a hold of your former Master. You bite your knuckles nervously as the signal pings out, almost crying in relief when the hologram of Obi-Wan’s familiar figure lights up in blue. 
“Y/n,” he says, with calm surprise. “I take it you’re—” 
“I’m pregnant,” you blurt out, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and splashing against your clothes. Then the dam bursts and you begin to sob, chest heaving as your breath escapes you. Soft wails of panic escape you because now you’ve said it, now it’s real, and more than anything, you need support right now. Obi-Wan watches you silently, a look of pain on his face as he takes you in. He looks up, trying to rein in his own tears as you call his name between sobs. 
“Padaw— Y/n,” he corrects himself, lips twitching downwards as he reigns in his own sadness. It’s not easy for him to watch the girl he’s almost raised for so long suffer, with nothing he can do to help. “Y/n,” he says again, softer this time. “It’ll be alright.” 
“I’m so alone, Master,” you cry out, tears still falling from your eyes. Your tongue slipped in calling that. He’s no longer your Master, and remembering that slices open wounds that have barely begun to heal. Obi-Wan is kind enough to ignore your mistake.
“You’re not alone,” he reassures you, still watching you as you calm down, rubbing the bone behind your ear anxiously. 
“What am I gonna do, Obi-Wan? She’s never gonna know her father. She can’t ever meet him, and if she does, he certainly cannot know that she’s his.” You sniffle and wipe your face with the back of your hand, sighing as you think about her future. “What if she feels abandoned? Am I gonna mess her up and be a terrible mother?” Your voice breaks. 
“Should you choose to keep the child, which no one will force you to do, you will be an amazing mother. While Anakin cannot know of his child, I will be there as much as I can to ensure your and your child’s well-being. And when it is time, she will be taken in by the Order, where she will be safe.” You laugh bitterly at his words. 
“Safe, safe like I was?” Obi-Wan just lowers his head in shame. You’ve never been good at controlling your temper, and seeing your words wound him hurts deep down. You look down at your clenched fists as you slow your breathing, trying to reign in your anger. And you try again. “Thank you, Obi-Wan,” you say. He nods quietly at your words, and you find yourself with your hand atop your belly protectively. 
“Y/n, if you do not wish to keep the child, you do not have to. There are many options to—” 
“I want to,” you interrupt. You hadn’t realized it before, but you did. And if she turns out anything like her father, you’ll never be bored. “When she’s taken in by the Order… could- could you please make sure she meets her father? She doesn’t need to know it’s him, but that’s what I want for her.” 
“I cannot promise anything, but if it’s possible, I’ll try and have them meet.” Obi-Wan evading your request is no surprise. Words mean everything to him, and he doesn’t make promises lightly. But it comforts you to know that he’ll try, to know that he’s on your team even when you feel so alone. 
There’s nothing left to say now. Your situation has left you with a cold distance between your former Master, your interaction saturated by a cold silence. You muster a soft smile— one which he returns— and the call is cut, leaving you in your solitude again. 
In another life, Anakin would’ve been by your side. It wouldn’t have been fear you felt, but excitement. You can just picture it in your mind— he’d be so happy with the news that he would throw open the windows and scream to the world that he, Anakin Skywalker, was going to be a father. But here, in this desolate life of yours, the only sound is silence. 
It burns, deep down, this loneliness. You want nothing more than to cross the galaxy and be swept up in his loving embrace again, safe and supported and loved, both you and your child. He’d love you so much, even now, but that’s exactly the problem. Allowing him to love you would be reckless, dangerous, and you love him too much to allow him to love you. Besides, you’ve lost everything, all for him. There’s no point in dragging him down to the depths of hell just for him to burn at your side. 
You cross your room to the mirror, standing in front of it and shedding each article of clothing until you’re left bare, studying your skin in the dim firelight of your room. Is this what Anakin would see? You picture him standing behind you, his rough hands on your smooth skin, tracing every inch of you as he shows you over and over again what it’s like to be loved. You close your eyes and mimic the path his hands would take down your body, consuming your being with the fire that his love is. Grief wraps its hands around you instead and you feel choked, tears spilling down your skin as you weep openly. 
Nobody can hear you. Nobody will wipe your tears and hold you til it passes. 
And it’s then, when you feel loneliest, that you hear it— your name falling from Anakin’s lips. You’re sure you imagined it. 
“Y/n,” he whispers again, and you whirl around to see him. He’s drenched, and you can see fresh droplets of water landing on his bare skin, collecting and building until they’re running all the way down his bare skin. You force yourself to swallow hard as your eyes follow the maps made by each trail, running down the strong panes of his abs before they swoop down to the hard bones that make his v-line and down further still. For a brief second, the familiar swell of lust rises within you. After all, who could resist the sight of Anakin Skywalker in the shower? 
But that building lust is accompanied by that bitter longing you carry. You need Anakin Skywalker to breathe, and here he is, like a gift from the Force itself. And he is beautiful and he is connected to you, and it feels like it’s just you and him in the universe all over again. Then you breathe and remember that he’s not yours, he never was. Anakin Skywalker was sculpted by the universe to become the Chosen One, not to waste his life as your beloved. You need him, and love him, and you never will have him. 
Still, your mouth betrays you when you cry out his name, reaching out to meet his hand and swallowing that sharp disappointment when your hand just passes through his. You know he’s not truly here, but it hurts nonetheless. 
“My love,” he sighs, reaching out to touch your face. It doesn’t matter that it’s not real, it doesn't matter that he’s lightyears away from you. You can almost feel it as you hover your cheek above the apparition’s hand and you have to look up to stop the tears in your eyes from falling. I miss you, you want to say. Come to me. Find me. I love you, I miss you. But you say nothing. 
“Have I wronged you so much that you cannot bear to speak to me?” Anakin asks, pained. You shake your head, unwilling to say anything because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying. 
“Let me find you,” he urges. His voice is as gentle and loving as you remember, and you find yourself placing a kiss on the apparition’s hand. The false intimacy stings. “Just tell me where you are. I’ll fix all of this, I promise. I’ll save you.” 
Your shoulders begin to shake as you step back, sobbing quietly and shaking your head because you don’t have the strength in your voice to tell him no. You hate hurting him. Seeing his face like this, contorted with that agony that you know too well, hurts you more than it should. 
“Please,” he begs, dropping to his knees as you continue to back away from him. His tears are falling freely now, collecting on his lashes before they bend and break away to kiss his cheeks. And you’re tempted, again, to tell him everything— to say that you’re pregnant, that it’s his, that you’re on Lothal and you’d follow him wherever he goes. You want to say it all, but it feels like your jaw is wired shut and all you can do is shake your head. Your ambition, your hopes and dreams, were so cruelly dashed by the Order. You see no reason for him to experience the same thing. And even if it hurts him, it’s for the better. It’s what you’d want in his position, to be encouraged to follow your destiny, not turn away from it. Besides, love is a fleeting thing. He’ll forget you someday and the pain will only be a fading scar. 
It dawns on you when you look at his broken form that you resent him, to some degree. Because he got to keep everything, while you lost everything, and yet he has the audacity to break in front of you. You want to scream at him, scream that it isn’t fair, that you’re in far greater pain than he will ever know. But you know that you’d feel the same in his place, because you’re so close to shattering. He is your everything. 
I hate you. I adore you. I need you. Why couldn’t it be you? Save me. Stay away from me. You want to say all of it, you want to say none at all. You’re at war within yourself, and Anakin on his knees with your name dripping off his tongue only makes your head pound. 
“Leave,” you say, finally finding the strength to use your voice. “Leave and never think of me again.” Your voice is steady, a facade you struggle to maintain. Anakin’s bottom lip trembles as you shut him out, his hands falling limp to his body as the image begins to fade. 
As soon as the last remnants of light fade from your vision of him, it feels like a cord has been cut and you collapse into yourself, so exhausted from it all that you can’t sob, you can’t cry. You’ve been denied your happiness one too many times but this? 
This is what breaks you. 
~~~
Two-thousand one-hundred and three days without Anakin Skywalker. 
You’ve killed the woman you once were. And, like a phoenix, you were reborn from the ashes of her. Long gone are the days where you were so connected to the Force that it was part of you— now, even something as small as lifting a rock makes your hand tremble and your head throb. Your connection to the Force was lost with the person you were, and it took a long time to fill the void you were left with. 
You gave birth to your daughter, Maya, whose spirit matches her father’s. Obi-Wan visits you every month, bringing gifts for your daughter and support for you. He isn’t here every day, but he’s here when it counts— every one of Maya’s injuries has been kissed and sent away by Obi-Wan well after they’ve healed. She’s quite attached to him, and you can’t stop that growing fear that it mimics her father’s all too well. But she is still a child, rosy-cheeked and so full of promise that you banish the thoughts immediately. 
Maya Skywalker is five years old now. You’re certain Obi-Wan will assign her a different last name, or erase it entirely, when she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She doesn’t even know her own last name, which you and Obi-Wan decided to do in order to prepare her for her future in the Jedi Order. 
If she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She hasn’t shown any signs of Force-sensitivity, but it only makes sense, given her lineage. You’re sure the child of the Chosen One and another almost-Jedi would bring forth a child blessed by a high midichlorian count. 
Of course, as her mother, there is a part of you that wants her to not be force sensitive. For her to stay with you, safe for as long as you can ensure it. That way, she’ll have more choice, instead of her destiny being written by the Jedi Council based on how many midichlorians are in her blood. 
You’re braiding Maya’s hair as you prepare for Obi-Wan’s visit to celebrate Maya’s birthday. Five years old, the time that the Jedi begins to identify which children are best suited for protecting the Force. You’re slower and more deliberate than usual today, because you don’t know how long you’ll have her with you before she’s taken by the Order and you never see her again. The threat of losing her too sits heavy on your shoulders. 
“Mama, why are you being so slow?” Your daughter complains, tugging your skirt. You blink and brush off your fears, shooting your daughter a teasing smile as you work your hands faster and finish her hair. 
“Sorry, little lothcat. I was just busy thinking about how big you’re getting.” 
“How big, mama?” 
“Almost as big as me,” A deep voice rumbles from the doorway. 
“Obi-Wan!” your daughter shrieks, beelining straight to his shins and making him let out a resounding oof when she collides with him. 
“I’m five now,” Maya says, but her words are muffled by the fabric of Obi-Wan’s clothes. He pulls her upwards quickly, flipping her upside-down quickly and making her giggle gleefully before setting her gently on his hip as he holds her. It makes you smile, seeing your former master being such an important part of her life. 
“Hey, Obi.” 
“Hello,” He responds, smiling at you gently as Maya pulls on his beard. “Now, what does the birthday girl want to do today?” 
“I wanna save a Senator, just like you and Anakin did,” Maya says, determined. 
“Oh, your mother told you about that, huh?” He asks, smiling. Maya nods, pushing herself out of Obi-Wan’s hold to get her feet on the ground. 
“Anakin is my most favorite Jedi,” she says, spinning around the room. You can’t do anything but laugh, because of course he is. You haven’t shied away from telling her the stories of Anakin’s bravery and everything he did. It was your way of letting her grow up with her father, even if she didn’t know that Anakin was her father. 
“Not even me?” Obi-Wan asks, a pout on his lips. He’s always had a soft spot for Maya. 
“Not even you, Uncle Obi. My favorite is Anakin. I wanna be as strong as him,” Maya shouts, jumping up onto your cot. She raises her little hands to the sky, imitating what she’s seen you do as you act out as Anakin, her chubby cheeks puffed out as she stares in concentration. 
Obi-Wan looks to you in mild amusement when the wooden comb that lays on your dresser suddenly goes flying, straight past Maya. Your head snaps towards her, hands still outstretched as her bottom lip begins to wobble in fear and now, stronger than ever, you can feel her Force signature. Perhaps it’s because you’re her mother you’re able to sense her despite your disconnect from the Force. But you know what this means— that she’s Force sensitive, that she’s destined for great things, that there’s power in her blood. 
You know it means that you’ll have to give her up to the Order. 
Maya begins to cry, afraid, and both you and Obi-Wan move towards her to console her. 
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, baby,” you say, bringing her to your chest and placing a kiss to her hair. “It’s okay. Mommy can do it too, see?” She looks up, sniffling, wiping away her tear tracks as you raise your hand in concentration and pray that it works. It’s been so long since you’ve even attempted to use the Force, but for your baby you’d do anything. 
It’s hard, at first. You feel like you’re underwater, searching for just a glimmer of light and you feel so cold. You reach out for it, only to be slammed into the barriers you’ve spent years building up. Memories you wish you could forget swirl around you, diluted but sharp against your skin. You can feel it, just barely out of reach, that familiar pulse that’s as much a part of you as it is the rest of the universe and you latch onto it with all the effort you can muster. 
The comb rises a few inches, wavering, before it finally clatters to the ground again. Your eyes meet Obi-Wan’s and you can see the disappointment in his eyes. A long time ago, you could’ve lifted that comb up without having to blink. It’s a cruel reminder of all that you’ve lost, of all that you once were. But it’s enough to satiate Maya, who gets up from your lap excitedly to go inspect the comb. 
“You knew this day was coming,” Obi-Wan murmurs to you, eyes trained on your daughter. He can read you like a damn book, always has been able to, and you know he can feel your apprehension at having to let her go. 
“I know,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. 
“If we don’t separate her from you now, it’ll be extremely difficult later on, and it might hinder her in the future,” he warns. “There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.” Then he turns to you, taking your hands in his own. They feel softer than your own, your hands calloused and rough from the accumulating years of difficult agricultural work. It’s insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it serves to remind you of how much things have changed. How much you’ve changed. 
“I know.” You don’t dare to look away from Maya, watching her because you know all too well that you will never see her again. You’re afraid to even blink, because you don’t want to risk missing even a millisecond of her. She’ll be gone by nightfall, but all you want is to hold her in your arms and, selfishly, keep her here with you. You should be glad that she has this opportunity. That she’ll accomplish everything that you never could. The part of you that was raised as a Jedi beams with pride, excited for her to thrive, even if it’s away from you. The part of you that’s her mother wants to burn the Order to the ground just to get one more year with your baby. 
Instead, you take a deep breath and accept that you have to let her go. “She’ll be safe, right, Master?” 
“I promise she’ll be safe,” he assures you. “I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes.” Obi-Wan squeezes your hand and gets up, walking out the door. You notice that it’s unusually overcast today, instead of the usual sun that you expect from Lothal. An unusual day in its entirety. 
“Maya,” you call out softly. You do your best to hold your tears at bay, because you don’t want your last memory with her fragmented by sadness. Even when she forgets what you look like, you want her to remember that you loved her, that you were happy with her. 
Your daughter, your sunshine, sports a toothy grin when she looks up at you. “Yes, mama?” 
“Isn’t it so incredible that you can do something this amazing?” You ask her, trying to seem as excited as possible. You want her to be excited about being a Jedi, and you know that means you’ll have to fake your own excitement. She nods, confused but excited. “Well, because of that, you get to go with Uncle Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple. And you’re gonna learn how to do so many things, Maya, and you’re gonna get so strong.”
“Strong like Anakin Skywalker?” She asks you, hopeful. You laugh and nod, looking up so that the tears that prick at your bottom eyelid won’t fall. “And mama, you’re coming with me?” 
You sigh and bite your lip, struggling to maintain your enthusiasm because you’re gonna miss your sweet girl so much. You hold her little face in your hands, kissing her forehead before leaning back to look at her. “No, baby. Your mama isn’t as strong as you are. And I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but just remember that mama’s always gonna love you, okay, baby?” 
Maya nods, but you know she doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s calm because you’re calm, but the pain of separating from Maya is the most difficult thing in the world. How much will life cruelly rip away from you? 
You hold her tightly in your arms as you continue to fight back your tears, holding her for the last time. “If you’re ever scared, know that you can always go to Uncle Obi-Wan, and if you can’t find him, you can always trust Anakin Skywalker.” She nods, and you separate from her, managing a weak smile before getting up and walking with her outside. Obi-Wan waits outside of his jet, smiling kindly at your daughter and you with that deep understanding in his eyes. 
“It’s time,” he says, and you watch her board the jet, waving them goodbye and watching until the jet becomes a distant pinprick in the sky. Then you turn and walk away, feeling hollow inside all over again. 
~~~
It’s been three months since Maya left home. 
Despite the fact that she’s alive and well, there is still a shadow of grief cast upon you. You feel as though she’s been ripped from you too soon. However, it isn’t as painful as what you felt when you were exiled to Lothal six years ago. Your solace comes from the connection you feel with Maya. Despite the distance, it’s strong and unwavering. You can breathe easier as soon as you feel her, and know she’s okay. That’s all you need now. 
Since her departure, you’ve found yourself trying to find that connection to the Force all over again. It’s not something you find yourself doing intentionally, but rather while you’re in the fields, you realize your focus is trained on the pebbles in the field, trying desperately to make them rise. But you just… can’t. You don’t know if it’s the mental blocks, or if you’ve genuinely lost the ability to harness the Force. Your life is tearing at the seams, but you’re desperately trying to keep it all together. 
You’ve noticed that the air around you has felt almost jagged, and you know something’s wrong but as long as it isn’t Maya, you can’t be bothered to care. You’ve long left the universe to its devices, and you know by now that you can’t meddle with what fate has planned. It’s been a slow build of toxicity, forcing you to breathe a little faster, a little shallower. But right now, sitting in the hut you call home, it’s borderline unbearable, and you find yourself seeking out that connection with Maya. 
You expect her to feel calm, as she has every day for the past three months. But what you feel from her is fear. You’ve never felt anything like it from her, and it makes you panic even more. 
Maya? You think, hoping that she’ll hear you somehow. You’re not skilled in the Force anymore, not by any means, but you need her to hear you. You need her to hear your voice, to know that she’ll be okay. Besides, Obi-Wan and Anakin were most likely close by. Maya knows to trust them, and if they’re there, she’s safe. Maya, you urge again, despite your attempts to subdue the panic that rises in you when her fear won’t go away. Her fear breaks your heart and you’re beginning to get scared now, because she shouldn’t be afraid. The Jedi Temple is safe. So if she’s unsafe, has she wandered away from the Temple? She could be kidnapped, and your heart begins to race as you focus on trying to connect to her. You need her to talk to you, to tell you what’s going on. It may be detrimental to her training as a Jedi to reinforce attachment, but you’re her mother, not a Jedi. So, rules be damned, you reach out to your daughter to make sure she’s safe. 
Your voice in your head is so loud as you call out for Maya that you can’t make sense of much else. And you can connect to her, just briefly, before you feel a stabbing pain in your chest and the connection is severed. 
“Maya?” You whisper aloud, standing up as adrenaline overtakes you. You close your eyes and try desperately to reestablish your channel with Maya, but you cannot feel her. Your anchor to her is gone, and you can hear your heart beating as you desperately try over and over again, searching in the darkness, to find her. “Maya!” You scream. Your knees buckle from beneath you and your fists meet the floor, dragging against the dirt as you draw them closer to your body.   
You pound your fists against the floor until they bleed, screaming her name until your voice goes hoarse. You don’t want to believe it, you refuse to. You convince yourself that it’s just because you’re losing your touch, you lost the signal because you’ve lost your skill, and collect yourself up off the ground to crawl to your transponder. Surely if something was wrong, Obi-Wan would’ve sent you a message. The transponder is blank, and you sigh in relief. 
But when you reach out for Obi-Wan, you can feel him. If you can reach out to him, why can’t you reach out to Maya? And why does Obi-Wan feel afraid? In your entire life, you’ve never felt him afraid like this. And that grief, that riptide of grief that’s threatening to swallow him whole, you’ve never felt anything like it. And it only confirms what you wanted to deny. 
Maya is dead. And you sent her to her death. 
“No,” you murmur, standing up. The action is dizzying and you sway as you walk towards the door and out of your home. “No, take me instead. No, no, it can’t be her, she’s just a child. Take me instead,” You plead. You don’t know who you’re begging. The Force? The Maker? There is no Maker to listen to you. If there was, this wouldn’t have happened. But still you beg. 
You wander into the forest, the Lothal sun burning every inch of skin you have exposed. You trip over the branches but it doesn’t stop you, crawling on the forest floor until the energy is lost from your body and all you can do is stare at the sky. It taunts you, cruel and bright as you continue to beg and pray that the Force take you instead of Maya. You’d be willing to suffer every moment of your life so long as she was okay because there is no greater pain than this. If you hadn’t deluded yourself into thinking that she’d be safer away from you, she’d be alive right now. Her being a Jedi didn’t matter to you, it never did. You’d sent her to the Temple because you thought she’d be better off there than with you. If you hadn’t pushed her there, if you’d just kept her by your side… 
It’s all your fault. 
Your nails dig into your skin but you can’t feel it, so detached from your body that you don’t feel the branches and jagged rocks pressed into your back as you scream. Who will remember Maya when you and Obi-Wan are gone? She should’ve outlived you. To start a legacy of her own. She still had so much to live for, and dammit, it isn’t fair that you got to live while she didn’t. 
~~~
You don’t know how much time elapses while you’re on the forest floor, wishing the roots and vines would swallow you whole and take you into the Earth. The only company you find is your grief, that ugly monster that has followed you wherever you go. Your mind alternates quickly between denying it, convincing yourself that it was all a bad dream, to the empty awareness that it was all real. 
You pull yourself up, feeling your skin crawl at the stillness of your body, and you walk aimlessly. You’ve walked through these woods with Maya so many times before. The memories are like ghosts, haunting you. You just wish you could forget everything, because this pain is unbearable. 
That’s when you hear your name, just like how you heard it years before. Anakin’s voice. You turn and you see him emerging through the darkness of the night, but you’re frozen. He calls your name out again, walking closer to you still. He looks different now, but he feels different too. 
“Are you real?” You whisper. The sight of him is almost cruel to you. He doesn’t say a word, just nods and comes closer to you and runs his thumb over your jaw. It’s intimate and heart wrenching and you can feel it. He’s here, he’s really here. You don’t know how he always finds you when you’re at your weakest, but it feels so easy to melt into his arms. 
“Prove it,” you sigh. Anakin sweeps you closer to him and kisses you. His lips are consuming, familiar, and he kisses you with a dizzying aggression. Anakin kisses you until you’re lightheaded, suffocating you. His tongue dances with yours and his teeth clash against yours as he kisses you in a frenzy. You feel your back hit a tree and you feel him cage you with his arms against the tree. 
Anakin’s hands find their way to your hair and he tugs, sharp enough to make you gasp in pain. It makes him smile, lips curving upwards as they’re pressed against your open mouth. His hands explore your body like he’s forgotten everything, thumb pressed into every dip in your body and nails dragging against whatever skin is exposed. He’s rougher with you than he’s ever been before, but you don’t complain because the pain runs alongside your self-hatred. 
Anakin makes light work of your clothes, stripping you of the simple tunic that you wear for work and leaving you topless as he works to remove his own clothes. He moves fast enough that you’re not allowed a moment of thought, and for that, you are grateful. His teeth sink into the muscle of your shoulders and down to your breasts, painful and possessive but you relish in it. You absorb his neediness, his demands as he marks your body. You cry out at the pain and he clamps a firm hand over your mouth, rising up to look you in the eyes. 
And, Maker, those eyes. How could you have forgotten their intensity? His eyes are burning fires, brows drawn together as he drinks in the sight of you. There’s no love lost between the two of you as you use one another selfishly. He doesn’t care for you anymore, but the same can be said of you. It’s been too long, and you’ve left one another with wounds too deep to be healed with a kiss. But you can’t deny that you’re his, your souls tied to one another in a way far too significant to overlook. 
Anakin’s hand moves from your mouth to brush your hair back, and it’s a form of intimacy that you know is wrong. 
“I hate you,” you whisper, trembling. You can feel him pause, absorbing your words and you know they hurt him. You can see it in his eyes, too, the walls slamming in place as you force yourself to push him away. You don’t mean it, really. You just want somewhere to shunt your anger. You wish he had known about Maya, you wish he had been there to save Maya. The guilt inside of you is consuming you, and you want him to carry that burden too, to burn like you are right now. 
You don’t realize you’re crying until Anakin’s tongue trails against your cheeks, lapping each teardrop up. He grinds his hips into yours, bulge pressing against your clit through layers of clothing and you groan as your pussy flutters. He pulls back and laughs at you sharply, before craning his neck down to kiss you fiercely again. 
“Look at us,” he says, tauntingly. He pinches your nipples, lips continuing to fuse against yours as you dig your nails into the flesh of his back. “Do you ever wonder,” he pants against your mouth as you palm his bulge, “what would’ve happened if you hadn’t abandoned me?”
You scoff and sink your teeth into the muscles above his collarbones, making him groan in pain. Your hands rest at his belt, toying with the lightsaber at his belt and you miss having your own. You want him to hurt like you did. You don’t want to think at all. 
“Less talking, more fucking,” you groan, tugging his trousers off and slipping your own off until you’re both left bare. His cock rests against your thigh, hard and warm, and when you grasp it in your hand Anakin whines loudly. “You’re pathetic,” you laugh, sinking your nails into his thighs and leaving little crescents in his skin. Maker, you missed him. Being this close to him elicits all kinds of emotions— all that anger, all that lust, all that longing that you buried deep down for so long bubbles up to the surface and spreads across your skin and you feel hot, hot and dizzy and you want him inside you already, dammit. 
You slide his length across your wet slit, teasing yourself with the right balance of pressure as the head of his cock sits at your entrance. That’s when Anakin grasps your chin with two fingers, firmly but gently, and forces you to look him in the eyes. His eyes mirror the same carnal lust that you’re feeling right now, but deeper still there is that bond that the two of you have. It remains steadfast and unbroken and you can feel his love for you, despite the unkindness that life has shown that bond. 
I love you, he mouths to you. Silently, as if using his vocal cords would give you too much power. It’s a weak and flimsy promise, but you can’t help mouthing it back to you silently. You allow the wave that is Anakin Skywalker to swallow you whole and forget yourself for a little bit. 
He pushes into you without warning, sliding his entire length into you and holding it when the base of his cock is brushing against your folds. He feels warm and thick inside of you, and it’s addicting. Anakin allows you to just barely catch your breath before he withdraws and slams it into you again, fucking you roughly with the tree bark against your back and the friction of his chest against yours on your front. He fucks you carnally, intensely, like he knows what he wants from you and he won’t stop until he gets it. 
Anakin’s fingers dig into the flesh of your love handles as he hammers into you relentlessly, almost bruisingly in their hold. It feels like he’s holding you tighter for every moment you’ve been apart and you look down to watch him slide in and out of you over and over again. 
He holds you up with one hand and the other begins to wander downwards, pressing against the soft curve of your tummy where you can feel it bulge when he fucks you. 
“You feel that?” Anakin asks, making you look at him through heavy lids as you try to maintain that facade of composure despite the way that you’re losing your mind with each stroke. “You feel how good we fit, baby? And you wanted to take this sweet cunt away from me. You’re mine, you know that? Mine. And I’m never letting go of you again.” The latter half is a growled promise full of desperation that’s accumulated over years. You can’t manage a response, too distracted by his hips meeting yours and the lewd sound of your bodies, hearts, souls entangling. 
Anakin moves his warm hand from your belly to your neck, decorating your throat before he just barely squeezes. It’s just enough pressure for you to slip into that woozy space where every sensation is heightened and you feel like you’re floating. 
You allow yourself to get lost in him as he fucks you. 
You’ve forgotten how impossibly full he makes you feel, stretching you out and forcing the breath out of your lungs. It feels like he’s going deeper with every stroke and every time his hips meet yours, your core tightens and you can feel the lightning bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine. 
“Say my name,” Anakin pleads. 
“Anakin.” 
“Again.” 
“A-Anakin,” you moan. You can feel yourself getting closer, each driving force connecting you to him and pushing you more to the edge. Your walls tighten around his length and he continues to use the pads of his fingers to circle your clit, providing just the right amount of stimulation as he lays his claim on you. He moans your name as he finishes but continues to thrust into you, determined to please you.
You can feel the tears pricking your eyes and you close your eyelids, allowing them to escape as your body processes everything. You sob his name, broken, as you reach your climax, but he does not taunt you this time— no, he holds you close as you cry and shares your grief as much as he can without knowing what your tears are for. 
He slides out of you and begins to dress you. It reminds you of the way you dressed him so many years ago at the Lake Palace, before everything went wrong. You want to tell him about Maya. He was her father, after all. But you know that he’s also the Chosen One, and it’s also your responsibility to make sure he doesn’t have the kind of attachment that pushes one into the Dark Side. The kind of attachment and love that a parent would have for their child. 
“You’re so different now.” You manage a weak smile at Anakin, and he kisses the palm of your hand. You trace the scar over his eyelid with your thumb and run your fingers through his long waves. There is love hidden in your touches, love that he cannot afford to keep but love that you’ll give him regardless. 
He turns away from you and begins to slip on his clothes, and that’s when you fish out the comlink from your pockets. There’s a message from Obi-Wan and you play it quietly next to your ear. 
“Anakin killed Maya.” That’s all he says before the message ends, and you have to replay it because you just don’t understand what he means. Anakin. Your Anakin, the one who would never hurt someone, much less a defenseless child. He killed Maya? Not just any child, but his own daughter? Was the Chosen One unable to feel that he was her daughter? It simply didn’t make sense. You don’t want to believe it, either, but you realize that this whole time that Anakin’s Force signature has been muted, more than you’re used to. 
With Anakin’s back still turned to you, you stalk over to his lightsaber, holding it in your hands. There’s no going back if you turn it on. If you turned it on and it was red, it would be undeniable proof that Anakin Skywalker is a murderer, that the Chosen One had fallen to the Dark Side. It would be proof that he had single-handedly made your life devoid of any purpose. 
You turn it on. 
You can see Anakin’s back stiffen as the lightsaber hums and before it can fully light up, you’ve already moved it next to Anakin’s neck. 
His form is bathed in the red glow of his lightsaber, and you feel sick to your fucking stomach. 
“It was you?” You whisper in disbelief. Obi-Wan might have told you who killed Maya, but you didn’t want to believe it. You can feel Anakin deshielding himself and now, you can feel it in his Force signature— there is an undeniable darkness within him.
The saber radiates pain from your fingers to your elbow, slowly creeping upwards, but you ignore it. Your anger makes your heart pump pure poison and power, and as Anakin turns towards you, you raise the blade and swing it down. He jumps out of the way. 
“You have to listen to me, the Jedi Order is evil! They’re the real evil! They tried to kill me—” 
“What, did they make you kill the younglings too?” You scoff, swinging the saber wildly as he backs away from you. The saber is heavy and the blade, corrupted by its master, only causes you more pain to wield it. 
“That wasn’t me!” He shouts, and all you can see is red. You scream at him, a noise full of pain and sorrow because his lies only add to your suffering. 
“Don’t you dare lie to me. You, you killed my fucking daughter,” you scream, and you’re close enough this time that the swing of the lightsaber burns cleanly thru his robes. 
“You have a daughter?” Anakin asks, shocked, as he harnesses the Force and pushes you a few feet away. 
“She trusted you,” you sob, voice breaking as you stumble towards him again and swing blindly. “I told her she could trust you. I told her she was safe with you.” 
You can feel the fury rising within Anakin before he even speaks. “Perhaps it’s for the best. After all, what future would she have as the daughter of some weak, worthless bastard?” His words cut through you like glass and his fury leaves you reeling. 
“Maya was your daughter. Yours! Your flesh and blood!” 
“Liar!” Anakin screams, sweeping his hand and sending you flying into a tree. 
“You know I’m not lying to you. I’m sure you felt it in her, too. Did she come running to you for safety?” You sob, getting up and ignoring the pain that shoots up your back at the movement. “I told her she was safe with you.” 
“You should’ve told me,” Anakin shouts. “That was my daughter, too, you didn’t think I had the right to know about her? Maker, were you ever going to tell me about her?” 
“I was protecting you! I gave up everything to keep you safe. Everything! You took away the one thing that gave me life after I had to leave everything behind! And for what?” You laugh bitterly. Anakin’s lightsaber is heavy and painful to wield and it feels like it’s burning your arm, but your fury fuels you and you drag the saber on the ground as you stumble towards him. Little embers burst into flames as the glowing red touches it, spreading behind you till the trees are ablaze with your anguish. 
Anakin lifts you up with a single movement of his hand, choking you in the air as you struggle and you’re reminded of just how strong he is. You fight back, and both of you collapse in exhaustion as the power that the other exerts over you wins. You’re quicker to recover, feet dragging behind you as you make your way to Anakin, who kneels on the forest floor and looks up at you with emotions that you can’t quite decipher. 
“I loved you,” you sob, hovering the lightsaber right next to his neck and trying to summon the strength to kill the love of your life. “All I wanted for you was to become the man you were always meant to be, to use that power for good.” You gasp, tears rolling down your face. The smoke from the fires burning around you singes your nostrils and eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the pain that Anakin is putting you through. 
“That’s why I left. I didn’t want you to have any distractions, any temptations in your path. I refused to be your downfall. You think I abandoned you? I had nothing when I came here, nothing! Maya saved my life. And you took her away from me. You took everything from me.” You can barely see him anymore, tears blurring the image of the man before you and you don’t have the strength to wipe them away, both hands still grasping the handle of the lightsaber as you shake. 
“Her blood is just as much on your hands as it is on mine,” Anakin refutes. He holds you in his gaze and the amount of rage in his gaze makes you uneasy, but you laugh bitterly at his words. 
“You think I don’t know that? All I can think about is how if I hadn’t sent her there, she’d be alive, Anakin.” He’s crying too now, tears carving their way down the ash residue left on his face from the fire. You blame him, you blame yourself, you blame everything. You just want Maya back. 
You lose your grip for just a second, weakened by the heavy toll that grief exerts on you, but a second is all that Anakin needs. He quickly disarms you and twirls the lightsaber to face you, rising and pushing you down with his feet. 
“Kill me,” you whisper, closing your eyes. You don’t want to keep fighting anymore. The universe would take revenge on Anakin for you, but you’re just too weak to carry on. Not without Maya. 
Anakin laughs darkly at your request and you can hear the hum of the lightsaber fade. The only thing you can hear is the fire as it spreads and the sound of his breathing as he stands above you. 
“You kept my daughter away from me, and she’s dead because of that. I won’t kill you, my love. No, that would be a kindness to you. You’re going to live, and you’re going to wake up every day with her death on our hands. If I am to carry this burden, I won’t do it alone. Live, and suffer.” 
Anakin walks away from you as you open your eyes. Your last glimpse of Anakin is with his back turned to you, flames licking at the bottom of his robes as he leaves you in the fire, a fire so bright you could mistake it for a supernova. You want to stay here, let the inferno swallow you whole, but you drag yourself to the hut where the remaining settlers are frantically rushing into the forest to put out the fire. 
Your Anakin Skywalker, the man you loved for so long, has been dead for a long time. Now, you have to learn to live in his aftermath. 
~~~
Twenty-three years since Maya’s death. 
It still feels like part of you was cut away that day, but you’ve learned to live without that part. It still hurts, every morning, but time has been kind to your memories of Maya. You don’t think about her suffering or her death, but the brightness of her smile when she was with you. And you live your life, as best as you can. The Empire has ravaged Lothal far too many times to count but the little sparks of rebellion bring you hope. 
Anakin doesn’t cross your mind much anymore. In the earlier years, when he did, the memory of him was associated with rage. But you’ve grown and you understand now that the man who killed Maya was not the same man who you grew to love in your childhood. 
You’re washing your hands when you can feel something shift. It’s slight, and so far away you barely register it. You can feel Anakin, the way he was so many years ago when he was still uninfluenced by the Dark Side. Your Anakin.
And just as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. After his death, Anakin Skywalker had returned only to die again. Something about that gave you a certain peace, to know that he died as himself. 
You don’t know why you find yourself turning around but you do anyway, and before you is the glowing blue Force ghost of Anakin Skywalker. There’s kindness in his gaze, one that you didn’t see when you were last with him. You don’t dare to look away from him because you know when you do you’ll have to let everything go all over again. He looks innocent, the way you think he would’ve looked if the Dark Side hadn’t influenced him. 
By the time you blink, he’s gone, with no evidence that he was ever really there. 
When the sun is set and the world goes quiet, you go outside to look at the stars. There’s one that’s brighter than all the others tonight. 
For some reason, it reminds you of Anakin.
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frost-queen · 1 year
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I’m coming after you (Fem!Reader x Trilla Suduri)
Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​, @floatlosers​, @merlieve, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​,   @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​, @swampthing07​
Summary: Reader & Trilla knew each other from the Jedi academy where feelings were left unspoken before the event of order 66. On Brakka Reader is in search of Cal Kestis to alert him from the dangers. Instead of Cal she stumbled upon the second sister who is quite shocked to see Reader. Trilla starts chasing you down with flirty and intimidating comments till she corners you. Her cold demeanor faltering with tears leading to an adorable kiss.  
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Taking a deep breath, your shoulders moved up and down. Looking wonderingly around. A massive shipwrecking yard in front of you. Standing a top a platform, the wind ruffled through your hair and clothing. Sweeping a faint cold against your skin as it caught underneath your clothing. Gripping tight onto the railing, you peered out in the open. – “Where are you?” – you asked yourself. – “Where are you Cal Kestis.” – sighing deep, your shoulders slouched. 
Up till now it was hopeless of finding him. A hidden Jedi such as yourself. A survivor from Order 66 so many years ago. With the up mars from the inquisitors there was no denying the Jedi’s in hiding were in danger once more. Your numbers were already slim, so they needn’t be slimmer. This was the reason you found yourself on Brakka. 
Searching for a fellow jedi survivor to warn him from the uprising Turning around you went down to find a way across the shipwrecking yard. Massive ships stripped and cut for parts. The lower you got, the larger the wrecked ships seemed. How tiny a person could be in similarity with the fallen craft ships that carried them.
Sliding down a panel you came on another level. One of the locals burning parts apart with massive protection goggles. You decided to approach him since your search for Cal was leading nowhere. You came closer when he stopped burning, tapping him on the shoulder. – “What?” – he grunted out, moving his goggles upwards to get a look of you. – “Kestis do you know where he is?” – you asked. 
“Don’t know who that is.” – he answered rudely, moving his goggles back down. – “Are… are you sure?” – you said as he gave you the cold shoulder. Deafening your voice out with the noise of him burning parts. Melting the material into smaller bits. Looking briefly up, you exhaled annoyed. If this was how it was going to be, you’d sure as hell never find him in time. You decided to go upwards to an open back part of a ship that had usage as passage now. 
You climbed, careful of the wind that picked up. Inside the open ship part there were some people passing through. – “Kestis?” – you asked them. – “Know where he is?” – One of them shook his head. Another one told you roughly ‘no’ setting some equipment down. You made your way through. Hearing a sudden alarm go off startled you. A red light flickering on and off at the beat of the alarm.
You watched the locals for a clue of what it meant. The annoying buzzing sound ear deafening. More species came running into the passage in a quick pace. – “What does it mean?” – you shouted loud, covering up your ears. They all ignored you, picking up some equipment on the way. They then moved to the front of the broken ship. You decided to follow them, perhaps Kestis was amongst them. Smoke filled an area making you cough and wave your hand in front of you. 
“Kestis?” – you called out loud in the hopes anyone would response. – “Not here.” – a voice responded yet you couldn’t see clearly who spoke. – “I am looking for him. Can you tell me where I might find him?” – you said loudly as men brushed past you as if you weren’t there. – “Try the upper levels.” – the same voice spoke through. – “Thank you!” – you replied backing up. Nearly bumping against others who came running desperately over to fix what set the alarm off. Finally some information. The upper levels. A sense of direction at last. 
You made your way through the passage, looking for a way up. Not far from you dangled a line. Unable to use your sense of the force as cover, you needed to figure another way to it. Spotting a way for you to climb up and stretch your arm out for reach. So you did minding every step. Brakka wasn’t a very safe planet. One wrong step might drop you a thousand feet downwards into the abyss. Years of build up wreckage enduring as foundation. Taking a leap of jump, you caught the line, swinging back and forth.
You waited till you settled still to climb upwards. Muscles tensing as you mostly used your arms to go higher. Near the end, you swung backwards with the use of your feet to go closer to the near platform of the upper level. Groaning loud, you jumped, landing on your feet to roll further. Getting up, you didn’t see anyone at first. Entering a tunnel like tube. – “Kestis? Are you here?” – you called out, hoping for a response. You stopped, eyes narrowing trying to figure out if there was a figure standing in the dark at the end of the tunnel. 
“Kestis?” – you asked loudly. – “Not Kestis.” – a woman’s voice responded. The sudden sound of a lightsaber lighting made you widen your eyes. The dark red reflecting bright against the darkness. Your heart thumping louder in your chest. Frozen to the ground as the person approached. Stepping out of the shadows to reveal their face. Eyes widening more it hurt your eye muscles. An inquisitor. The second sister. – “Y/n?” – she said taking a step closer. 
You gasped loud at the mention of your name. A hint of shock hiding in her voice, face hidden by a mask. Shaking your head you knew you were in danger. – “Y/n… you…” – the second sister said moving a hand forwards. – “No!” – you screamed out, thinking she was about to choke you with her grip. You spun around taking a run for it. Knowing very well you were no match for an inquisitor at this very moment. 
It was too risky to fight her without the usage of your own lightsaber you decided not to bring along. This way your cover wouldn’t accidentally be blown. Smart choice or wrong choice? The second sister came running after you, laughing loud. Her voice manipulated a bit robotic.
“Where are you going?” – The second sister called out catching up with you. You jumped down, feet slipping as you touched vast ground, shoulder hitting the ground hard. – “So it is a chase you want.” – The second sister teasingly said, looking down at you. She retracted her lightsaber, jumping down herself. You hurried up to your feet, running further. – “You cannot run from me Y/n. I’ll catch you no matter what.” – she said loud making you gasp loud. You leaped onto another platform unable to shake the second sister off your back. 
Above you hung some a half broken panel with broken wires. Since your cover was already half blown, you moved your hand up. Bringing the loose panel down on the second sister. She grunted jumping away in time. – “So you like it rough?” – she chuckled slowly getting up. – “So do I.” – she cackled out. Moving your hands up you zigzagged avoiding the objects the second sister dropped near you to slow you down. Screaming loud you spurted for a way out. The obstacle course getting trickier. – “You make my wildest dreams come alive.” – you heard her call out behind you. 
“What is wrong with you?” – you shouted back. Confused and weirded out how the second sister acted around you. The comments she dropped with a double meaning were very confusing. Did she like tormenting her prey before the kill? – “I want you Y/n!” – she replied setting herself off. She ran against the side of a wall, landing in front of you. You had to cut down to a sudden stop to not bump against her.
“Stop!” – you called out frightened as she approached you intimidating. You backed away as she swiftly removed her helmet. Eyes widening at the face before you as your feet came to a stop. – “Trilla?” – you whispered as her helmet dropped to the ground with loud thud. Trilla nodded slowly. – “Yes…” – she tilted her head, taking in your features. You did the same, having not seen her for so many years. Not since you were separated from her at the Jedi academy with unsaid feelings. 
You couldn’t deny the leap your heart made seeing her alive. Yet it was wary of her, of what she has become. You didn’t know. You thought she was dead, mourning her for many years. Trilla’s lip trembled at the sight of you. Her eyes filling with tears as she took a step closer to you. – “You are alive…” – she said softly moving her hand upwards. She took a few more steps so that her hand could brush against your cheek. Her cold demeanor slowly faltering. Your breath shuddered when her hand touched your skin. 
Making you lean into her palm. Trilla smiled with teary eyes, a few drops rolling down her cheek. You took her palm from against your cheek, leaving a sweet kiss on it. – “I am alive.” – you told her as a final reminder. Trilla grabbed your face, pressing her lips firmly onto yours. Years of unspoken feelings finally outed on the outskirts of Brakka. You forgot about Cal and the inquisitors, you forgot about it all. Only thinking of Trilla in this moment as you kissed her passionately back.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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val-aquenta · 2 years
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Jedi June for the prompt Symbols/Faith. This one was a little strange and I ran away with Luminara’s section a bit, but whatever. She’s the loml so she deserves it.
Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39451506/chapters/99523599
We lost.
It’s been…months since the galaxy went dark. She evaded capture for a while, trying to find a way off the planet. The wookies could not help her. Not without putting themselves in more danger than they were already in which was something she would not stand for. Without help, though, it was near impossible for Luminara to find a way off Kashyyyk. 
Then, she was captured, but surprisingly not killed.
She had seen what the clones had done to Master Kirit and his apprentice, and she had felt all throughout the galaxy as the Jedi fell en masse, bringing darkness. That she hadn’t been killed was surprising, but not a relief, for she knew where her road would eventually lead. 
‘You’re too quick to accept defeat, Master,’ Barriss’ voice was both a kindness and its own brand of sadness that made guilt twist in her gut. ‘Have hope, you tell me. I'll tell you the same.’ Still, not even order 66 and the fall of the Order could eclipse the pain of Barriss falling. Instead, they merged into one big miasma of pain.
“Just tell us what you know, Unduli. It will be over after. We just need information on the Temple, and we know you have it.” The Imperial in charge of interrogating her would not get any answers. She’d stood up against Ventress, the Geonosian Queen, and even Grievous on one occasion. One small little human, old and white-haired would hardly break her. 
As before, Luminara simply turned her cheek. They’d taken her headdress early on, which was the worst thing they could have done beyond what they had already done. It still burned her to feel her hair brushing against her cheek in plain view of this…human. Still, Luminara was a Jedi, and by the Force, she would act like one. 
Silent and stoic despite how she burned to break free, to hide, to just leave. 
The interrogator raged at her, threatening her with more pain, and still…nothing. Eventually, when the human was red in the face, an indicator of lack of oxygen, outrage, or perhaps both, he disappeared and Luminara was taken back to her cell. 
The next day started off the same as before. Unceremoniously woken up, the sheet she wrapped on her head yanked away, and then taken to the interrogation room. Then, it took a different turn.
“You know what these are?” The interrogator, a different one from yesterday, pointed, nudging the items. Lightsabers, beads, a braid, bracelets, a shred of fabric from a familiar cloak- Luminara closed her eyes and looked away before she could continue down the line at the other object. “You do…” She could feel the smirk in the man’s voice and simply clenched her fists.
‘Master, you must calm down. I’m completely fine.’ She could feel the imprint of Barriss’ small and capable hands against her shoulders, urging her to calm and breathe. Years later and she would still listen to that voice. One breath in, hold for a few seconds, and then exhale. Luminara opened her eyes, centred enough to look at the objects again.
A lightsaber, dirty and scuffed, that she could not recognise. Still, losing a lightsaber could mean a lot. Most likely, it meant the death of the owner, but Luminara could hope. Two strands of silka beads, taken from hairless padawans, and a single braid of black hair from a padawan with hair. Familiar pain rose at the desecration of their culture, but Luminara simply breathed through it. Barriss had been good at it before her fall; meditating through emotional trouble. She was always calm and centred. Luminara had felt like a student in face of her calm nature. Bracelets from Master Echxet who was famous for her weaving were next. They were cut through and burned on the edges, but a golden woven Jedi Order symbol remained gleaming through the dirt and soot, stubbornly still existing despite attempts to destroy it. A torn scrap of fabric from Barriss' cloak followed. Luminara had petitioned for her to be given her clothes early in Barriss' imprisonment. It was one of the only things she could get for Barriss other than occasional visiting her. Still, she could never mistake the shiny silvery fabric nor the patterns more familiar than her tattoos. 
Finally, she saw a holocron. A standard-issue holocron. When activated, they glowed blue, but this one lay dormant. It was also, she noted, stained with blood. 
“Ah. Yes,” the Imperial officers walked forwards and tapped the holocron, “you noticed this?” He withdrew his finger and wiped it carefully on the edge of the table as though merely touching the holocron had dirtied his finger. “You will open this, Unduli. Under your free will, or under the influence of pain.” Credit where credit’s due, he was at least more intimidating than the previous officer. “What will it be, Jedi?” He spat the word like an insult.
Luminara spared him no glance, looking at the objects blankly instead of facing his hatred. In the Force, muffled by the darkness that permeated the prison and the cuffs on her arms, she could still feel the lives of the owners reflected in each object.
The feeling of duty echoed from the lightsaber. Whoever had raised it had done so with only single-minded duty in mind. Luminara let it remind her of her own duty: to not give in to the Empire. From the silka beads and the braid came the warmth of love and the feeling of pride in oneself and others for having done well. She let it wash over her, remembering her own Master’s soft hands and softer smile when she’d added a bead onto her braid. The bracelets felt like strength, unwavering in the face of adversity. Master Echxet had clearly been infusing the bracelets with her thoughts of the Jedi in this bracelet, and it reflected. Luminara let the strength buoy her for a moment, enjoying the feeling before moving on. 
Finally, in the shred of fabric from Barriss’ cape, she felt love, loyalty and regret. So familiar was the person who’d felt it, Luminara could feel it even clearer. Barriss had regretted, had still loved her despite what angry words she’d said often. Logically, Luminara had known Barriss still at least cared for her, as their last meetings were filled with contemplative silences and a few smiles from Barriss, but still. To feel how much Barriss had loved her made her heart ache and tears prickle in her eyes. 
‘I know I do not say it often, Master Luminara, but I admire your strength,’ Barriss had once said before the war even started, as they flew through hyperspace. ‘You are…like a tree; strong and tall. I draw strength from you.’
I can still be the tree, Barriss. I must. 
Luminara raised her head and stared unflinchingly at the Imperial interrogator, a tear trailing down her cheek. He smiled as though Luminara had lost and succumbed to her pain, but he could not even imagine the pain she felt, and he could not imagine the depth of Luminara’s strength in face of it.
“I will not open the holocron.”
The Jedi are extinct.
Cal Kestis wipes away at the dirt and grime that covers a sabre. For having laid in a swamp for years, it is in remarkably good shape. It’s small, simple, and judging by the robes found rotting nearby, abandoned by a running padawan. 
They weren’t killed, at least not yet. They had simply abandoned anything related to the Jedi and run. If they’re lucky, they’re safe now and to all those who know them, not a Jedi. It’s the only way to be safe nowadays, to let go of the past, hide it, and run from it. 
Cal scrubs and reveals a small etching in the sabre hilt, a childlike etching of the Jedi Order’s symbol. Probably scratched in using a small tool, many children had done so. Names and drawings scratched in, providing a sliver of joy whenever their thumbs rubbed the mark. Satisfied with how clean the sabre is and careful not to touch it with his bare hands (that will come later) Cal pockets it and continues his search. 
Minutes of wading in dark brown swamp water bears fruit when a holocron and a few datapads are revealed. The holocron, once open, plays Master Kenobi’s familiar message. Run, run, RUN, RUN! HIDE! Echoes from the holocron when a stray patch of skin passes against the dirty surface. He almost drops it in shock, but simply shifts until the echoes of fear and determination dissipate and Cal is once more himself.
“You find much?” Cere asks from where she stands at the ship's ramp.
Cal takes a moment to breathe and centre himself from the flashback before turning, “yeah. A padawan landed here, but…Whoever they are, they’re not here or anywhere close.” He looks back at the swampy water, “they definitely didn’t think they were going to stay.” He hears Cere come closer until she’s right by his side, hand pressed comfortingly against his shoulder. “Here,” he hands her the lightsaber.
“Hmm…” Cere hums as she twists and turns the lightsaber one way and then another. A fond smile lifts her lips when she spots the little etched symbol. “I don’t recognise it.” She brushes the spot once before handing it back to Cal. “But, if they left their lightsaber behind, I doubt they would have stuck around themselves. Especially if they were a padawan told to run.”
Cal nods, looking out over the water. “It’s hard. Leaving everything behind.” He sees Cere looking at him with sympathy. “It was impossible for me. Somehow, it just kept haunting me until I finally turned and stopped running.” The hand on his shoulder squeezes as he shakes his head. “I just…” He takes a moment to himself again, “I hope they’re at least safe wherever they are.”
“As do I.” She pats his shoulder, sharing a strained smile. “Come on, let’s see if we can find anything else.” Together, they wade out in the water, looking for anything else.
The time of the Jedi Order is over.
Quinlan spends the first year after order 66 in hiding and in pain. He wallows in it, relishes in it even. He feels as though he might even deserve this pain for being the survivor. It takes a month of that, and a reminder that he is still a Jedi before he manages to drag himself from the brink of darkness and back into the light. The Jedi Order might be gone, but by the Force, the Jedi will never be truly gone.
Quinlan is by no means the most skilled Jedi to exist. He’s good, certainly, and the fact that he was alone during Order 66 saved him, but he can not be the only survivor. Obi-Wan, he knows, at least survived the initial wave to send a warning to any other Jedi, including himself. 
In fact, it is Obi-Wan’s unwavering gaze as he repeats his message in the holocron endlessly which gives Quinlan the strength to finally leave the planet towards the whispers of the rebellion. Obi-Wan had been one of their best, and he had been Quinlan’s close friend. ‘You’re a good man, Quinlan, and a great Jedi. Sometimes, you just need to be reminded.’ Obi-Wan had punched him jokingly in his shoulder, a wry grin on his lips. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do the reminding.’
He traces down the embers of the rebellion using his skills as a shadow and his psychometry. It’s not long before he meets the rebels. They’re severely outnumbered and outgunned, but they have the drive and an inner strength the Empire could never have. 
It is there he learns of Obi-wan’s disappearance and likely demise. He can’t let it phase him, though. If Obi-Wan won’t remind him, he just needs to remind himself. 
“How can I help?” is all he asks when the leader of this branch of rebels meets with him.
She looks at him with a shrewd gaze before saying, “There is the Path.”
Quinlan asks, “the what?”
“It smuggles Jedi and Force sensitives from the Empire to safety.” She glances at him inquisitively, not unlike Master Windu’s piercing gaze. “It could use some help, especially Jedi help. It’s dangerous,” she warns, “the Empire is…relentless. Some would call it unstoppable.”
“Nothing is unstoppable, Thrath. The Empire will fall eventually,” he answers without really thinking. He can not believe fighting the Empire is a fruitless endeavour. Eventually, it will topple, as have many other organisations in the past. He mulls over her offer for a moment before he’s nodding. It’s not really an option to refuse. “I’ll help this Path, risks be damned.”
All the preparation in the galaxy could not have prepared him for the first time Quinlan laid eyes on the Path. To know that there are so many people willing to sacrifice themselves to help the Jedi. It is almost overwhelming. 
Most overwhelming is the depth of emotions stored in the walls of the Path. Etchings of names, symbols, and identities scratched into the walls. On every wall, the Jedi Order’s symbol stands, and every time he passes, he lets his fingers trace the familiar curves, feeling pain, loss, and yet ever-present hope.
“Have you ever left something?” Tala asks one day from where she folds the cloak of a padawan into a box to be tucked away. At Quinlan’s quizzical look, she elaborates, “on the walls.”
“Oh…no.” Not yet. For some reason, he doesn’t feel like he should be allowed to. His one year stint into darkness and despair shames him still even though he knows it shouldn’t. For some reason, the shame still bites at his feet wherever he steps. 
It isn’t until he sees the wall of the Path on Ischer that he finally plucks up the courage to leave his own mark as well. Like all of the walls, the fear of the refugees is imbued, but also the joy of a community that was lost and then found in the hidden caves of the galaxy, and the hope for a better future.
“Turn from the Dark and into the light. It is always worth the struggle.” A Padawan probably wrote it, mirrored after one of Yoda’s maxims. Added on, by a different person judging by the handwriting, is “And you are stronger for it.” 
Quinlan doesn’t know why it affects him so much, but it gives him the strength to take a pick and write his own message. 
“I turn towards the light because it is the light,” Tala reads. “That’s nice.”
Quinlan shrugs, “I heard it from a friend.” He sets down the pick and fixes her with a searching gaze. If she's uncomfortable it doesn't show. Instead, she looks back, a pain echoed in her eyes alongside fearlessness and drive. “You don’t know how much it means to us. That there are people out there helping us, that we aren’t alone.”
“Well, Quinlan, I think people who think they’re alone often are far less alone than they think.” Tala nods and pats his shoulder, a strained smile on her face. “Often, people just need to observe and realise that they’re not alone.”
‘I’ll do the reminding,’ Obi-Wan had said with his wry grin, ‘me, Lumi, Bant, Master Qui-Gon, and every other Jedi and civvie.’
Quinlan grins, the memory of Obi-Wan and his lost friends hurting still, but overshadowed by the joy in the memory. “I think you’re quite right.”
    Do not return to the Temple, that time has passed.
Obi-Wan buried his lightsaber when he first came to Tatooine. He buried his heart, Master Yoda would say with a disapproving frown, but Obi-Wan hardly felt like a Jedi anymore, so how could his lightsaber be his heart? 
Regardless, when he’d uncovered it ten years later he hadn’t known what to do or how to use it. Ten years of no practice had left his muscles weak and his brain confused. Slowly, he’d relearned how to grip the hilt with strength, how the blade moved in the air, and how to move it efficiently. Still, he was only handling the lightsaber with barely any skill. The part inside him that was a Jedi Master cringed at the ungraceful blocks and dodges that would have been child play for him ten years ago. 
It was part of what ultimately stopped him from burying the lightsabers once more. 
Part of him still wanted to disappear, to hide away in the endless wastes until he perhaps wasted away. And yet, Leia’s young voice asking, well demanding really, ‘make me float’ and the message on the wall reminding him that the light would persevere, gave him strength and drive once more. Like a shrivelled plant, Obi-Wan renewed himself when hope returned. 
Hiding didn’t help, he’d known before but ignored it. Now, though, he finally felt like he could become the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi once more, no longer just the crazy hermit Ben of the dunes. 
And so, Obi-Wan took up his blade once more and practised. 
His moves were clunky, stumbling in the sands and tripping over his feet in ways that made his cheeks burn despite no one, but his old Master watching him. He drops his lightsaber a few times and is subsequently forced to clean it while muttering curses under his breath. His eopie watches with large eyes, blinking as he scrubs and scrubs away at the hilt. 
Still, he works and works, practising katas and even adapting them to the dunes he is forced to practice on. A left block down, a slash to the right, and a shift of his left leg, Obi-Wan slowly relearns the dance of the lightsaber. Slowly, looking at his lightsaber no longer makes something within ache, and picking it up becomes easier and easier. 
One day he finishes his practice and looks over the dunes. His heart still aches something fierce, but he’s beginning to understand that it will always ache just a little. He’s beginning to finally accept it. He looks at the hilt, still raised as he remains in the final position of the kata. It hadn’t been so hard to raise the blade today, he notes absently, nor had it been hard to use the Force today. He breathes out, loosening his tense muscles in preparation to stand. 
Qui-Gon’s presence made itself known halfway through his exercise, and through the entirety of the final kata. His presence flares suddenly, and he speaks. “You’ve done well, Obi-Wan.” His deep baritone echoes on the dunes, a comfortable and familiar sound. He continues with a seriousness in his voice, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, you may rise,” Obi-Wan recognises the words intimately, having been told them by Master Windu instead of Qui-Gon on Naboo, “as Jedi Master once more.” 
He rises unsteadily, eyes stinging both by whipping sand and sadness. “Master..."
If Qui-Gon were corporeal, he would be smiling. Obi-Wan is certain. He can feel it in the air. “You have faced many trials in your life, but you have faced them admirably. Where many might fall, you have stumbled and weathered the storm.” Qui-Gon takes a moment, giving Obi-Wan some time to centre himself. “The symbol of the Jedi Order contains a phoenix, which symbolises rebirth. And now, you stand tall once more, a Jedi Master reborn. The world could not have asked for a better Jedi, nor I a better student. May the Force be with you.” 
“And with you, Master,” Obi-Wan echoes. There’s a flash of feeling, like a hand on his shoulder and the scent of sapir before Qui-Gon’s presence disappears, fading away until there is nothing but Obi-Wan. He breathes unsteadily for a moment before clipping his lightsaber onto his belt, finally feeling like a Master once more. 
    The light will fade, but is never forgotten.
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dokoni-mo · 2 years
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what if u and anakin grew up together on tatooine and were childhood friends…you would spend time in each other’s company, him fixing droids, and you helping patch up the other kids and helping animals. you two grew fond of each-other over time, shmi even remarked how adorable you two would be as a married couple. both of you gagged at the statement, but deep down you hoped it to be true, and you wanted him to feel the same. once of age he went to train as a jedi while you advanced in the health field, traveling through different systems to learn different methods of medicine.
for those years where he was a jedi knight you focused on building your reputation. easy to say both of you were kept very busy and had little time to peruse personal endeavors. once the clone wars hit you gained experience as a battlefield medic as anakin became a general. you had little time to reminisce of your past but you did miss the boy you loved on tatooine, you wondered where in the galaxy he was now.
you gained the reputation of a skilled healer who could find some way to alleviate even the most severe symptoms. you weren’t terribly involved with the politics of the galaxy. you had no real opinion on the fall of the republic or the rise of the empire, all you cared about was healing those who you could. some time after order 66 u got wind of the termination of the jedi, for a moment you let yourself mourn for…. him… anakin, though you wouldn’t let yourself admit it, you always wished your lives would have ended how his mother always said.
you were working out of a small mining system when u saw some storm troopers approaching your camp. you had never had any trouble with the law and weren’t terribly familiar with the new government. all you knew of a ruthless man in a black suit who was ruthless to all who crossed his path. yikes.
you were commissioned to become the new emperor’s apprentice’s personal physician. apparently he had been terribly injured, burns and cybernetic limbs, needing life support to stay alive. you couldn’t really say no so u boarded their craft and set off. they brought you to a planet called mustafar, you had only ever been there once and the heat alone was enough to keep you away. once inside you were brought face to face with THE darth VADER. his mechanical breathing echoing off the halls. the emperor introduced him as HIS apprentice. darth vader was your new patient? you were surprised such a feared man needed the type of care you were entrusted with. after the emperor left you were left with vader in the large room.
he crosses the floor and looks at you for a while. unknowing what to say you just say what a pleasure it is to meet him. he stays silent until he tilts his head “f/n?”. you hadn’t heard that name in what felt like eons. who could have know? everyone who called you that was long gone, who? you looked at the dark lenses and wistfully whispered “ani?” he continued to stare and finally announced “that is no longer my name”. you were so stunned that what he said didn’t register with you. you were so overwhelmed and joyed that he was alive!
smiling you said “i cant believe you’re here! i missed you so much” and went to hug the man. he hesitated and stepped back, opting to lay one of his gloved hands on your shoulder. “i am pleased to hear your thoughts. i too have pondered the past.” reunited once more, vader, under his dark mask felt a sense of relief. you were here and didn’t seem to be applauded by his shift in lifestyle. he felt something inside he hadn’t in a while, hope.
AHHHH i didn’t intend for this to be so long but i have many thoughts….. i’m by no means a writer and i meant for this to be more of a prompt but i may have gone overboard :) if it’s rushed it’s cause i did it between breaks at work LOLLLL, also idk if anyone would b interested in a story like this but if ppl are…. that would b super cool 👀
-🦦
BRO OH MY GOD ARE YOU SURE YOURE NOT A WRITER??? BECAUSE LIKE THIS IS SO SO GOOD HELP
i really really enjoy the notion that like,, it really was fate for the reader and ani to be together because like THE EMPEROR JUST SO HAPPENED TO PICK YOU out of like everyone in the galaxy like,, 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️ and to have vader remember you!! and i can only imagine just how comforting it would be to him that you hadn't forgotten him, and that you were willing to help him despite everything that he's done. You can definately tell that he still cares for you as well, since he would let you call him ani (and didnt try and kill you knowing that you knew his real idenitity)
IF YOURE NOT A WRITER NONNIE THEN OH MY GOD PLS PLS PLS TRY WRITING A LIL SOMETHING!! THIS IS SO SO GOOD THIS STORY IS SO YUMMY LIKE,, PLS IF YOU OR ANYONE ELSE DECIDES TO WRITE IT PLS TAG ME I AM DYING TO SEE THIS FLESHED OUT
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Text
Tall
Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing. 
Tech X Reader
Slow Burn/ Angst
Warnings: Mild 1.10 Spoilers
Word Count: 1.5K
Part 1/?
This was 100% inspired by this gif from episode 7 of Tech under the main control desk.
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You enter the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder late at night slowly and quietly as you try not to disturb the tall man who is working on the wires under the main panel. 
“Tech?” you call softly to him when he doesn’t notice you. 
He abruptly sits up hitting his head on the underside of the panel and laying back down quickly with a loud thunk. 
“Well that was unpleasant.” he says with a grimace of pain as he leans out from under the panel. You try to not look worried when he rubs his head where he had hit it on the panel. 
 “Is there something you need?”
 “Sorry! I just couldn’t sleep. Figured you were still up here.”
 He nods slowly as he leans back down to continue working on the wires. 
“Do not mind me. I am upgrading the general security system of the outer walls. The door has been slow to close recently and I am trying to fix the timing. Feel free to sit in here as long as you want. I could use the company.” 
He becomes absorbed back into his project as the time passes. Mindlessly chatting about the upgrades he's making and the general gossip of the other men and Omega. It is mostly you gossiping honestly. Tech isn’t the biggest gossip in the world but he listens like every detail you talk about is the most important and interesting information he has ever heard. 
“I’m pretty sure Omega thinks we don’t notice when she borrows our blacks to sleep in. I swear every time I turn around I’m missing another shirt out of my basket. I think it must be a comfort thing.” you say with a yawn as you fight back the call of sleep. Tech’s presence is a calming one and you love hearing him talk. He is your favorite of the bad batch and you might have a small crush on him but you would never admit it to him. He is your best friend. Tech nods absently as he pulls another wire from under the panel. 
“I have noticed mine disappearing too but I assumed Echo was doing laundry and got them mixed up with Hunter’s again.” he says slowly. His goggled eyes glance towards you with mirth in his eyes at the joke.
 “If Echo is confusing your black’s with Hunter’s then he really must be bad at laundry. You have at least 5 inches on him and your blacks are much bigger. At least he doesn’t think they are Wrecker’s.”  You chuckle sleepily at the thought. 
Tech crawls slowly out from under the panel, making sure not to hit his head again, apparently done with his upgrades. “I think it is time for you to go to sleep,” he says with a small smile in his voice. You don’t complain as he helps you stand and leads you towards the bunks where the rest of the crew is sleeping. 
“You need sleep too.” you protest as he turns to go back towards the cockpit. He smiles wryly at your pathetic attempts to chastise his insomniac tendencies. “I will be fine. Someone needs to stand guard until morning.” 
You wake up to the sounds of the rest of the Bad Batch moving around and packing up for the rest of the day. Hunter is passing out rations, Wrecker is curling Gonky like a barbell, Echo is slurping what is obviously his 2nd cup of caf of the morning, Omega is still curled up in her little corner with her clone trooper doll and Wrecker’s blacks on looking more like a night tent than a nightgown, and Tech is nowhere to be found but is more than likely in the cockpit still.
 “Any caf left?” you ask in Echo’s general direction. He grunts in the direction of the pot that still has ¾ of the brown liquid in it. You pour 2 cups of the precious drink and head towards the cockpit. Tech is absorbed in his datapad and again doesn’t hear you enter. You wait in the doorway and watch the tall man as he scrolls through the information he has been pouring over all night. The smell of the caf fills the cockpit. Tech sniffs the air and turns towards you as a smile appears on his face. 
“Is that for me?” he asks hopefully. You hand him the cup you prepared for him just the way he likes it. He smells the cup before he takes a sip. “It is perfect. Thank you.”
You fall into the co-pilot seat with your cup and start to examine the new security system that Tech spent the night working on.
  “Looks good to me! Anything I need to know before you all leave for your mission?” 
Tech starts explaining the broad strokes of the new system and how the upgrades make it easier to use. You nod along as you listen to the explanation. The men are headed out on another one of Cid’s bounties. This one is on Raxxus? You think. 
“Isn’t Raxxus the separatist capital? Why are you all headed there?” you ask slowly, not comprehending. 
“A job is a job. We must pay back our debts.” He’s doing the really cute finger thing he does when explaining things.
 Your heart melts at the gesture. He doesn’t realize how cute he is sometimes. Tech gives you a strange look as you realize you have been staring at him for a moment too long. 
“Hey Tech!” Hunter calls from the back of the ship. 
Tech stands up to head back towards the bunks where the other men are gathered around a map of some kind. He hits his head on the top of the doorway as he forgets to duck while walking through it.
  “OW”
 You stifle a laugh as he rubs his forehead and pushes through to the back of the ship. You can hear Echo making a crack at Tech’s mishap with a light laugh. 
“Watch out for the roof Tech. Your head might damage it if you aren’t careful.” 
That man is too tall for his own good. He towers over you when you stand next to him and you won’t deny it makes you feel things. You have had a crush on the nerdy clone pretty much since you joined the merry band of deserted clones. You joined in the aftermath of Order 66 with Omega from Kamino. You were her nanny and you gladly went with the clones when the imperials took over. You never quite trusted Palpatine when he was the Supreme Chancellor and you trusted him even less when he turned the clones against the Jedi and declared himself Emperor. The Bad Batch offered you freedom and you seized the opportunity. Shaking off the memories, you make your way back towards the back of the ship. Omega is awake now but is still sitting in her bunk. Her big eyes are blinking away sleep. You help her down and she immediately goes to stand next to the clone she has claimed as her makeshift father. Her nightshirt is almost dragging the ground with how long it is and you chuckle at the sight. Hunter gently pats her hair, mussed from sleep. Echo hands her a ration bar then turns back towards the map. Tech has an angry red mark on his forehead right above his glasses from where he hit the top of the doorway. 
“So what is the plan?” You ask as you look over the map. It appears to be a blueprint of the palace on Raxxus. Hunter starts explaining the mission in simple terms so that you can understand. Basically they need to rescue the senator from the Imperial clones. Omega and you are to stay on the ship and protect it from patrolling clones. Omega protests this as you frown at the idea. Hunter shuts down the complaints with a wave of his hand. 
“It is safer for you two to stay on the ship than risk losing you to the imperials” He says quietly. “I can’t lose you again.” he says to Omega as he bends down to her level, “This is the best option right now. We don’t know what we are walking into on this planet. We already have 2 at least bounty hunters after you and the last thing we need is the clones to find you too. We still don’t know where Crosshair is or if he is even alive after the last encounter. I can’t lose anymore of you.” 
He finishes slowly and turns back to the men gathered around the blueprints scattered on the table as he rises. Hunter nods to the others and they head towards the ramp. You gather Omega up in your arms and head up to the cockpit to watch as the men depart. She is not happy at the thought of being left behind and her big eyes are shining with anger and hurt. You hold her close as you watch the men disappear into the trees with the droid client. I hope they are going to be okay. You think to yourself.
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nanagoswife · 3 years
Text
I Failed Everyone. I Failed You.
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(^^these are related to the fic^^)
HAPPY MAY 4TH EVERYONE
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In celebration, I decided to write this random idea I had literally just last night (right before I wrote it. I wasn't even planning to write last night 😅) Anyways, I thought we could use some Obi, even if he isn't going through entirely good times. With me, I had to end it on a lighter note so sad Obi doesn't necessarily last the whole time.
Pushing this aside, happy May 4th everyone.
May the force be with you, always.
- - -
Summary: After Order 66, Obi-Wan has to go and deal with Anakin. Taking place after the duel, he comes to you for support but, as the next hours go on, you're the one needing comfort.
W/C: 2.2k
Warnings: Mention of flame boy, mention of mass death, character death, angst, Obi being a sad boy
The threatening shades of red and orange accented by the black, soot covered ground would’ve frightened him in any other situation. Even the locals had an unwelcoming presence as they floated over the molten lava, gathering Maker knows what.
Now, though, he was more focused on a different fear that had come true. The order was destroyed, his friends turned on him, he failed Anakin. Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed one of the people he strove to do only good for.
Instead of his true duty, he had just battled his closest friend. His brother. His son. The one other he cared and watched over not because his master had told him so, but because he felt inclined to. There had been something in Anakin that peaked something inside of him that drew him to Anakin.
What good was he if he failed everyone he ever loved? First, Qui-Gon, then so many others. Even people who had just been there that fought by his side or died to save him. Then there was this current moment. He had failed to see how the war was a fool’s game. The person leading it was really on the enemy side and let his true colours show in a drastic change.
Obi-Wan had failed. He had even failed you. Compared to you, Obi-wan knew so much more about what was truly going on. Had he seen how overly fond the Chancellor was for Anakin, even you were suspicious. Yet, he didn’t act on it soon enough.
Due to this, you were caught up in Anakin’s tirade before it turned into the battle he had endured. You had come with Obi-Wan hoping that you could talk him back. Anakin always did have a strong connection with you. He had told Obi-Wan at a point that he looked to you as a mother figure, a role model.
It almost worked, too. It was almost as if something snapped in Anakin as you tried to step closer. All you wanted to do was embrace him and tell him how it would all be okay even after what happened with Padmé moments before. That’s not how he saw it. So, he had used the force and threw you against the ship, rendering you unconscious.
Being protective of both you and Padmé, Obi-Wan tried a last ditch effort to try and talk Anakin down. Despite being known as the ‘Negotiator’, his negotiating skills greatly lacked compared to yours. He had failed your mission to bring him back to the light.
With everything, it led to him watching as he was burned alive, almost pleading for help. Instead of listening, he turned away, unable to watch.
The image was sure to haunt the rest of his days as he walked back to the platform with Anakin’s lightsaber. Before this had all happened, he was able to check to make sure both you and Padmé were still alive. Thank the stars that you both were. He could only hope the baby was alright.
When it came to you, he was relieved to know that the one person he loved most dearly was alright, considering. You would’ve been the last straw had Anakin killed you.
Even in this time of pain and grief, he couldn’t help but be amused at the thought of how, not only did Anakin see both you and him as parental figures, but the two of you had really been together the whole time. Whether Anakin knew or not, the two of you raised him like your own because both of you knew that you couldn’t actually have a child of your own. So, Anakin played that role.
That was why you were so adamant on trying to talk him out of it. Unlike Obi-Wan, you refused to raise a hand to Anakin. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have either, had he not almost killed you and his own wife who carried his child. It repulsed him.
As he neared the platform, fear filled him at thinking something may have happened while he was gone. Did clone troopers arrive and find you here? He didn’t want to think about it, partially because, at this point, he would just give himself up to it.
Stepping up the platform, intense relief overtook him when he saw you with your back turned to him. You only turned when both R2-D2 and C-3PO had greeted him.
He didn’t need to say a word for you to know what happened. Why else would he be carrying the lightsaber? Although you hated that it happened, you couldn’t blame Obi-Wan at all. His pained expression showed how heavily it weighed on him.
Obi-Wan didn’t stop when the droids met him. Instead, he kept his path to you until he was in your arms. The tears that he had just wiped away now mixed with the ash on his face once again as he buried himself into your neck. One of your hands easily held the back of his head while the other gently rubbed his back.
As you held him, your own tears filled your eyes. You were unable to bring Anakin back. You had lost the closest thing you had to a son to the dark.
“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said, barely coherent through his cries. “I-I failed him. I failed you.” Just his voice wrenched your heart as his pain was so prominent.
His words pained you in a way that they never have before. In your mind, he didn’t fail you or Anakin. You were just as much to blame. As was everything else in and around your lives. That wasn’t what he needed to hear, though.
“Shh, it’s alright,” you said quietly into his ear. To further comfort him, you traced delicate circles in his hair. “You didn’t fail me and you definitely didn’t fail Anakin. There’s no way we could’ve known that this is what was going to happen.”
“But-”
You cut him off, “No,” you said firmly but stayed soft so you could comfort him further. “You taught him well. The rest were his decisions. We couldn’t force his path, Obi.”
Carefully, you moved his head so that you could look him in the eyes, cupping his cheeks with your hands. The usual soft, caring blue was now dimmed with pain and grief. Although that’s how you felt, you tried to remain strong on the outside. He didn’t need how you felt added to his own emotions.
“Come on,” you said gently, “Padmé is inside. We need to get her into medical care.”
Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded and you led him inside by the hand that didn’t carry the lightsaber. When you walked in, you left Obi-Wan by Padmé’s side as you went to pilot the ship off this dreary planet.
-
“Twins?” you exclaimed when you heard the news. You, Yoda, and Obi-Wan all glanced at the other when the medical droid told you this.
“Go. By Senator Amidala’s side, you should be,” Yoda told you when you had looked worriedly at your friend. The fact that she was dying hadn’t quite settled in just yet. Instead of voicing this, you nodded to Master Yoda and quickly made your way to Padmé’s side.
Out of pure instinct, you grabbed her hand.
“Y/N,” she said weakly.
“Shh, save your strength. You’re about to have a couple little ones making themselves known,” you said with a slight chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. To your relief, she let out her own laugh.
The rest of it was all a blur. Padmé’s tight grip on your hand was merely a reminder that you were still here. It was a reminder that these may be the last few moments you get to spend with her.
At a point, you had looked up to where Obi-Wan was watching from the other side of the glass. Trying to be brave, he offered a small smile in comfort. It did help a bit before your attention was drug back to the situation as the grip on your hand was tightened.
Once both Luke and Leia were born, Obi-Wan joined the room and held Luke as you held Leia.
When you looked down, Padmé was smiling at the two babies that the two of you held. Then it fell. “There’s good in him,” she whispered, breathing deeply. “I know… I know there’s… still…” and she faded.
Obi-Wan looked as desolate as you felt. Other than the two of you, there was no one else. Sure, there was Yoda, but relationships with him weren’t as deep as with everyone you’ve lost today. Now, you and Obi-Wan were left with the children of your closest friends.
-
Later, after your discussion with Yoda and Bail Organa about what would happen with the children, you were watching the twins in the nursery through the glass wall. So many thoughts were running through your mind, the most prominent being what would happen with you and Obi-Wan.
During the meeting, the relationship you had with Obi-Wan no longer needed to be hidden. Even though Yoda already had known for years, he was open to what the two of you had to say. This was all to lead up to the point that the two of you would take Luke to his family on Tatooine and, together, you would watch from a distance.
Your thoughts now were about how the two of you would stay hidden with this duty. You thought about how this all would affect the next days, months, stars, maybe years. Would this plague both of you for the rest of your days? Would this draw you apart? Would it bring the two of you closer? Would you finally start the family the two of you wanted?
“Darling?” Your racing mind was interrupted as you heard the familiar voice. Turning to it, you saw Obi-Wan’s worried gaze. This time, it wasn’t because of everything else that had happened. It was a worry for you. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, quite…” you trailed off as you looked back to the two newborns.
Seeing your gaze, he immediately knew what you were probably thinking. He stepped up to you and pulled you into his embrace as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. What you needed was comfort, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.
“Don’t worry, Darling. This won’t pull us apart, I promise,” he said reassuringly.
As he held you, an idea popped up in his head. It was something he continually thought about, but never was able to do. There was so much that he could finally act on that was once held back due to the code. Now, he could tell you and ask you everything he wanted to for so many years. Especially with this idea now.
“Y/N, darling?” He moved slightly back so that he could look into your eyes. The troubled look that he saw in your eyes earlier was now dimmed down and was replaced with the usual fondness he loved to see. “To prove this, I want to ask you something.”
Confusion suddenly took you over. What could he ask that would prove to you that nothing would happen? That is until he started to sink downwards. He kept going until he was kneeling, looking up at you and held one of your hands in his. The whole time, he didn’t remove his eyes from yours.
“This has been something that I’ve wanted to ask for so long. I haven’t been able to before, but now I can. Y/N, will you marry me?”
Overwhelming happiness threw every thought from everything from the last twenty-four standard hours. It was the first time you truly smiled for days, maybe even weeks. It rendered you speechless as this was a day you thought you’d never get. Eagerly, you nodded your head before pulling him up to kiss him. The first time you would share a kiss without the fear of others catching you.
“I love you, Obi. So much,” you said, resting your forehead against his.
“I love you too.” Obi-Wan lifted a hand to your cheek and traced small circles with his thumb. Although the reasons that made this moment possible were horrible, he basked in this small thing that helped both of you forget. This was well needed for now. “Maybe we could finally start the family we’ve always fantasized about,” he said while bringing his lips to your forehead.
You pulled your head away, but didn’t move away from his hold. “Really?”
“Really. Those dreams can finally be a reality.”
Without any more hesitation, you kissed him once again. There will be much to overcome, but you’ll have each other to work through it. You’ll have the other to comfort the other. Eventually, you’ll have another that will make you want to be better.
Then, you knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t failed you and you hadn’t failed Obi-Wan. Even though you both lost your closest friends, and you may have failed so many, you hadn’t failed each other. And in this blissful moment, that’s all that matters.
@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @hopeladybug
If you want to join a taglist, message me or send in an ask. I'll eventually get something set up, but this is the only couple ways for now 😅
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fanfic-cave · 3 years
Text
Abandoned
Rating: SFW/PG-13 (although theres kissing and stuff if you dont want to read that in public)
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC
Warnings: Angst, fighting and arguing, talks about order 66/jedi being killed, making out it gets a little heated ya’ll
Summary: Hunter has discovered Sera's intentions to abandon the team and leave. The have an argument, amongst other things. Does she stay, or will she leave the bad batch for good?
Authors note: More OC stuff, I just get scenes in my head and I have to write them out. This is the furthest ahead ive gotten in the story I think. I have ideas of other things (which kinda get hinted at here), but im not sure how exactly I want to accomplish them.
Be sure to check out my post and put in your 2 cents on what I should write next!
Tags: @mangoberry99
You walked into the small, dark room, with Hunter right on your heels. He was definitely mad at you.
You tightened the mask on your face, and kept your hood up. Hunter switched the lights on and shut the door. “You were going to leave?” Hunters voice was raised, practically growling. He whipped around to look at you, his eyebrows arched and nostrils flaring. Yup. Pissed.
“I don’t expect you to understand.” You folded your arms defensively. “Just cause you’re a Jedi?” Hunter spoke loudly. “You owe us an explanation.” Somehow you thought Hunter really meant that you owed him an explanation.
You turned your face away, saying nothing. You didn’t feel obliged to share anything, you just wanted to retreat and hide like you always had. Hunters mouth turned down into a frown, and you could tell he was getting more upset. “I hate to break it to you, but being a Jedi doesn’t make you more special or different than the rest of us-"
“Hold on a damn minute-" you interjected, uncrossing your arms.
“And you don’t get to shut us out just because you are one.” He spat it out and you felt your face heat up with anger. “You were going to go without saying goodbye, Sera. You realized how messed up that is?” He was yelling now.
“I told you, you wouldn’t understand!” You yelled back. Your hands balled up into fists.
“No, I don’t! How could you befriend us, gain our trust, and just leave? Omega-"
“Don’t.” you interrupted before he could finish. Your voice had lowered in pitch, but it was loud and it echoed around the room. “Don’t bring her into this.” You were doing this to protect them, especially her. You didn’t want him to guilt trip you by using her.
“It would’ve destroyed her. You can’t face that? That you were going to abandon her?”
“You have no right-!” You turned to face him, pointing a finger at him and walking up to him.
“Take that damn thing off.” Hunter said. You froze. You knew he was referring to the mask. He stared at you with a hard look on his face, still fuming with anger. “I said take it off.” He ordered.
You yanked it off and threw it at his feet, hoping to hit his foot. He easily moved his left foot to avoid getting hit. “Happy?” You threw up your hands as you said it, venom laced in your tone. Your mask felt like your defense, a protection. You felt safe with it, and you had worn it since abandoning the clone wars and the Jedi order. You felt too vulnerable and exposed without it right now.
“Don’t lecture me, I know what I was doing, and I-" your voice cracked. You took a step back and took a breath. “I thought it was better than the alternative.” Your voice was quieter now. You looked down, then you turned around, your back to him. You didn’t want to see him, to face him. You placed your hands on the table in front of you, leaning forward and taking slow deep breaths.
“How would that be better?” Hunter's voice was lower in volume, matching yours. He seemed upset, but not angry anymore. He sounded hurt, or maybe sad.
You finished another deep breath. “The Jedi are being hunted down. I can only hide for so long.” Your voice was much quieter now, barely above a whisper. You felt weight on your chest as you said it. You crossed your arms and hugged yourself, trying to squeeze away the tight feeling in your chest. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I could feel it when the Jedi were killed, Hunter. Thousands of voices being silenced. And now, I can feel it.” Hunter waited for you to finish. “The Empire knows there are hidden Jedi across the galaxy, and they’re going to come and find us.”
You turned to face him, tears in your eyes. Hunter looked worried as he listened to you, watching your movements. “If you’re with me, you could all be killed.” You choked out the last part, the tears coming out. You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to hold in the cries that escaped your mouth.
You squeezed your eyes tight and couldn’t see, but you felt arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in. You received the hug and wrapped your arms around Hunters torso, then buried your face into his chest. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, the sobbing escaping you, ripping through your chest.
“Shh,” Hunter quietly began comforting you. You felt his hand stroking your hair, the other arm squeezing you tight against him. You held onto him as you cried, like holding him would help you hold yourself together.
You stayed there for a minute, quietly sobbing while Hunter stroked your hair and quieted your cries. After a minute had passed, he spoke. “You remember what I told you when we found out you were a Jedi?” He paused and you waited quietly, tears still rolling down your cheeks. “I said we would protect you.” You had stopped sobbing, and you took shaky breaths in and out.
You felt him kiss the top of your head. You pulled away from his chest to look up at him. He wiped the tears out of your eyes with his thumb. “I promise, I won’t let the Empire kill you,” he had grabbed your chin, and looked into your eyes with intensity as he spoke. You smiled at his optimism. Normally you might argue that he couldn’t guarantee that, but he looked so set in his decision. You didn’t think you could persuade him otherwise.
He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, and you met him halfway, enjoying the moment of closeness. You felt like he was grounding you, keeping you here in the moment instead of fearing for the future. “Is this okay?” You felt his breath hit your face as he spoke. It was warm, and he smelled nice. You nodded. He squeezed you around the waist and pulled you in tighter, your hips now touching.
You felt your heart skip a beat. You two had never been quite this affectionate. You had an idea that Hunter might feel something more than friendship towards you. There had been moments, exchanged glances, lingering touches. Conversation where you both opened up, and had been vulnerable with each other. You already knew how you felt, but never were quite sure where exactly he stood.
You opened your eyes, and examined his face. You could see details that you couldn’t make out without being this close. The details in his tattoos, the shape of his eyes, of his face, his mouth. You felt yourself become more brave. You tilted your face to the right, your nose skimming past his. His lips were not even an inch away from yours now.
You saw Hunter's eyes open, and he was watching you. You waited, not wanting to advance more without permission. You held eye contact for a moment. He looked at you questioningly, processing what you were doing. You waited for him to pull away or come closer. You quietly froze there, the two of you only breathing and examining each other in your closeness, neither of you sure what would happen. You found yourself getting lost in his brown eyes for that short moment.
Suddenly Hunters lips were against yours, his hand at the back of your neck, fingers reaching into your hair. You breathed in through your nose, and your bodies began to move together. You felt yourself rise up to your toes to reach him, to get closer. Your arms were still wrapped around his torso, and you pulled yourself closer to him, just as his other hand gently pushed you in from the small of your back, trying to close every gap between your bodies.
After a minute, Hunter pulled away to allow yourselves a second to breath. He studied your face, like he was trying to memorize it. “It’s about damn time.” You said between breaths, and he laughed. His eyes seemed to light up with excitement. You reached up to his neck and brought him back in. You felt a burning in your chest as you continued kissing him. You wrapped your fingers around his biceps, and began to push him towards the nearest wall. He let you move him, his arms around your waist, making sure you came right along with him. You went back up on your toes, reaching to kiss him.
Hunters hands shifted away from you, then you felt them grab you underneath your thighs. You were suddenly lifted up, your legs reflexively wrapping around him. You gasped and broke from the kiss, holding onto him to keep yourself from falling.
“I’ve got you.” He spoke confidently, placing one hand on your shoulder as the other fully held you up. Then, he took a few steps and set you down on the table. Your face was now an even height with his. You made a face “You think I’m too short to kiss you?” You huffed out. Hunter smiled and said “You are kinda short-“
“Oh shut up.” You grabbed his shoulders and forcefully brought him back in. You tightened your legs on him, as if trying to lock him in place. He had one hand on your hip, the other touched the back of your shoulder where your bare skin was exposed. It felt like a fire was ignited where his fingertips met your skin. Hunter broke away and planted kisses on your cheek, then he moved to your jaw. You felt yourself reach at his shirt on his back, tempted to start pulling at it. You felt intoxicated by the moment, drinking in the bliss you felt as his kisses moved to your neck.
Wait. How did I get here again?
You released him and pulled away gently as the thought crossed your mind. Hunter stopped and took a step back from you, being sure to give you space if you wanted it. Your legs no longer were wrapped around him, you sat on the table and Hunter stood just a foot away from you. “Did I overstep?” Hunter asked. He watched you carefully, concern written all over his face.
“No, no I loved that Hunter,” you reached your hand out and grabbed his. You gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just trying to process. Weren’t we just fighting?” You looked back up at him. He looked up, trying to recall the events. “Right, and then you were crying-“
“And now we’re kissing.” You laughed and shook your head. “That really escalated huh?” You looked back up to him as you spoke. Hunter was smiling, he looked genuinely happy.
You ran your hand through your hair, your braid now very much messed up. You began to undo it. Hunters smile faded and his eyebrows knitted together.
“What is it?” You asked.
“You won’t leave, right?” He asked, the brooding expression you were all too familiar with was set back onto his face.
“Oh.” Right, I was going to leave. You felt your heart squeeze. “No, I don’t think I will.” You said after thinking. Hunter sighed in relief. “Good.” He approached you again, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Oh, you wouldn’t let me?” Like he could stop me. You kept that thought in your head.
“No.” He spoke firmly. His eyes locked with yours, and he looked determined. “I know the empire is hunting down the last of the Jedi, but we’re not exactly on good terms with them either.” You listened as he spoke.
“I don’t like the thought of you trying to survive on your own. I’ve always had my brothers, and having a squad, or a family, to rely on has gotten us all through it. I want you to rely on us, let us help you.” He put a hand on your cheek as he finished, and leaned in closer to you. He looked almost sad as he said it. You realized if he really cared about you, the thought of you leaving must hurt as much as leaving him would’ve hurt you.
You took a deep breath, then spoke. “Since I left the order, and the war, I’ve always been on my own. Having someone to rely on again has been a bit of an adjustment.” Hunter kept his eyes fixed on you, hand still on your cheek. You moved to put your hand on top of his. “I’m still learning how not to run, and I don’t want to run from you.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Honestly, I think I love you.”
Hunters eyes widened a bit as you said it. You smiled and you could feel yourself blushing. Now, though, you weren’t ashamed.
You saw Hunters eyes move to the door and back to you. Then you heard foot steps and Omega calling for Hunter. “I love you too.” He whispered it, and the door opened.
I know. You mouthed it, then slid off the table to stand next to him. You could practically hear him roll his eyes and you smiled.
I don’t think I could leave now. Not even if I wanted to.
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kyberconfessions · 3 years
Text
No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. part 3
Hi everyone! We have made it to Part 3! Thank you for coming on this wonderful journey with me. I have at least 6 chapters already written and the story will be longer than that. I appreciate all of your love and reblogs and everything you say about it. Seriously, I love you all. Also, I am toying with the idea of a Bad Batch x reader story AU. Let me know if there is any want for that. Thanks!!!
As always:
This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and will deal with anxiety, death, sex,  PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.
Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory) I should say this is NOT a Rex x Cody fic. There will be ZERO Clonecest on this blog or story. Reader is a consensual relationship with Rex and with Cody. Yes they share, yes they will eventually have sex together, but Cody and Rex are NOT in a relationship nor will they be intimate.
Rating: 18+
TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them
Part 3: Again
It had taken you longer to get to Hondo than you would have liked. But, of course he had to be by some out of the way planet, forgotten by most. You pride yourself on your extensive knowledge of the planetary systems, knowing obscure things that even had Master Yoda chuckling with delight. But this place? You had no idea where it was. It never showed up on any star chart and quite frankly you were fairly certain he gave you incorrect coordinates. But, still, you went there to meet him. You had to laugh to yourself when you saw his ship waiting for you, floating in the dead of space. Hondo was telling the truth. 
"Kriffing pirates," you mumbled to no one, chuckling as you started preparing your ship to dock with his. No matter how many star charts you studied, how many space lanes you memorized, he would always know more obscure things than you.
As you finished the docking sequence and began to enter his ship, you mulled over what he would want to show you. Something he was either desperate to have or knew you would want immediately. Something he wouldn’t risk saying over a commed link, even if it was secure.   Honestly if this was another wild goose chase he put you on for something he could find at any market stall on any of the core planets...well you wouldn’t do anything except grumble while you went and got it. You should hate the power Hondo had over you, but you didn’t. He never did anything to you out of ill will or because he could. Hondo was just eccentric. 
‘But…,’you couldn’t help think. But what if? What if? What if he finally found something you truly needed? 
     Could it finally be Cody’s helm? Or could it be a piece of Rex? You knew in your heart it wasn’t either of those, it never was, but still you hoped. Still you held on and asked the Force to give you just this one win. Just this once, let you have something of Rex. Anything would do. A pauldron, his Kama, a piece off of his belt, something, anything. You just wanted some piece of him to hold onto. You missed him so much. You missed them both, but where Cody could be hard and demanding and strict, Rex was soft and loving. He would hold your fingers in secret where Cody would just stand. Rex would let his hand linger on your shoulder a few seconds longer than need be, while Cody would just grunt in acknowledgement. Rex would praise you after training; Cody would demand perfection, pushing you harder than Obi-Wan ever would.  But when he would show you his love, Cody would love with the brilliance of a burning sun.
Hondo waved at you from the otherside of his door, giving you a flourished bow before opening the airlock. But as you walked in, your mind wandered, thinking to your lovers. 
You missed them both so much and you could use a few of their pep-talks, especially now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Obi-Wan and Anakin stood on the Training Observation Deck of the Negotiator, watching their Padawans work through a strenuous series of obstacles and training droids.
Cody and Rex stood on the sides of their respective Generals, watching as well.
Ashoka did well, flipping, moving, and swinging her saber with ease. Each of her targets went down with raw power, showing how strong she was getting. You, on the other hand, were tired and sore and not moving as quickly as you usually do. But, that was because Ashoka just came back off a week's leave from Coruscant and you had recently gotten shipside from a long and drawn out campaign with Foxtrot Group. You were exhausted when she was refreshed. But that didn't mean you could slack off in your training. You had to be stronger, you had to be better. You were Jedi, you would not fail.
Ashoka finished the trial a few seconds before you did, landing at the finish line on one foot. Just as you were about to execute your final flip, the training block shifted underneath you, causing your foot to slip. Before you could right yourself, a stun bolt hit you square in the back, knocking you down. You landed on the ground with a hard and loud thud, ending the exercise.
Obi-Wan watched as Ashoka went to help you up, feeling guilty for having you train. He knew you were tired and drained, but you had insisted on working with the other Padawan. He should have put his foot down and told you to get some sleep. But he didn't and here you all were. 
Anakin walked forward to the console and stopped the exercise, reseting it.
"Good job Snips, finally getting that barrel flip down.” He called over the comm. “Thank you, Master.” 
You were standing behind Ashoka as she spoke to her Master, dusting off your robes and massaging your neck, disappointed in yourself. You should have sensed that bolt coming, you should have been able to right yourself and finish the test. You stood there, mentally berating yourself so much that you didn't realize Obi-Wan had started to address you.
"It's alright Young One, you did excellent, but I fear your exhaustion has hindered your training for today. Why don't you go and eat and get some much needed rest and we can revisit this at a later time."
Obi-Wan, ever the loving caretaker, cursed himself for even allowing you to work in your state. You could have gotten seriously injured and where would that have put you? He knew in all honesty you should be in the medbay getting checked out and possibly doing a little time in a bacta tank.
But, Marshal Commander Cody thought differently. Ever the perfectionist, he would not accept this as the end of your session. With his bucket under his left arm, he walked up to the console and pressed the comm, calling you.
"No Jed'ika. Start over."
You looked up into the window of the viewing deck and saw him staring at you, eyes hard. The others looked on in mild concern and irritation. Obi-Wan was about to chastise his second, when he noticed you move to the beginning and prepare for another assault. You knew he was right, he always was. You could do better, you should be doing better, but you let your exhaustion lie to you. You weren’t so tired that you couldn’t finish this level. You’ve done this countless times, late in the evening, with Cody at your side. There was absolutely no reason you couldn’t finish it now.
Cody looked back to his General for a split second, as if looking for permission, before restarting the training exercise. This time, as you went though the course, you only made it halfway before failing again. There was a trick shot the training droids took that you weren’t prepared for and you took another bolt to your upper thigh. You were going to have an ugly bruise in a few hours.
Gingerly you stood, favoring your leg for a few seconds before shaking it off. Just another color added to your already mottled and scarred skin. 
As you went to stand, you saw the course reset once more and heard Cody’s voice over the comms, “Again.”
Rex didn’t like this, but he knew what Cody was doing. He knew if you were just pushed harder, if you were taken to your limit, you would not fail. He also knew that if you left the course without succeeding you would beat yourself up for days, feeling weak and useless. Rex didn’t like it, but he agreed. Obi-Wan watched on, focusing on your resilience and strength in the Force, humbled by his young Padawan. Anakin, on the other hand, didn’t like what was happening and felt that the Commander of the 212th was being too careless with your safety. This went on for some time, Cody would call for you to restart, you would fail, you would get up, and he would call again. Over and over and over. 
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Anakin had enough. “This is absurd! She’s clearly tired and needs rest. Hells, she needs time in the Medbay!” He walked up to the console and used his shoulder to push Cody out of the way, calling to you, “Padawan, you’re done now. Go straight to the Medbay. I want Kix to look you over.” He turned to Rex, “See she gets there, I don’t trust the Commander at the moment.”
Ashoka looked visibly uncomfortable from where she stood on the viewing deck and gazed up at Obi-Wan for any kind of reaction. He said nothing, just watching his Padawan try to get up off of the mat while pulling at the hairs in his beard. Before he could give the order for Cody to help take you to the medbay, Cody unceremoniously stomped over to the lift door and went down into the training room. They watched as he approached you and pulled you up, speaking harshly in a hushed tone to you.
You watched as Cody barreled towards you and crouched down at your eyelevel to look at you sternly. “Get up, Jed’ika. Get up. You don’t have time to wallow in your self pity. You don’t have time to lay here. You don’t have time to fail! Get up!” You listened to his words and tried to stand, but your knee where you had just taken a bolt gave out and you fell. Cody wrapped his hand around your bicep firmly and pulled you up.
“Each time you fail, another one of your men dies! You get up and you do it again! Each failure is another soldiers life gone! The men you swore to protect! Get up!” You nodded and stood on your own feet, albeit wearily. He was right. “You are a Jedi. You are not some clanker who falls over with the slightest push. You are better than this! You are better than your failure. You are Jedi. Do better. What is it that you’re always quoting from General Yoda? There is no try. You either do it, or you fail. And I do not accept failure! AGAIN.” Once he knew you were on stable legs, he stalked off to the sideline and prepared to yell at you more as you went through the program.
“Master, this is ridiculous! Cody has lost his mind! She’s too tired and needs medical attention.” Anakin was almost shaking; he was so upset. Who did Cody think he was? You were going to get seriously injured if you continued on. You needed rest and bacta, not constant berating and training. This wasn’t the way one taught a Padawan. This wasn’t the way Obi-Wan taught him.
 Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow at Anakin and breathed loudly out his nose, removing his hand from his beard. “Yes, I do believe you are right, Anakin. It seems I have let this get out of hand.” He stood closer to the control panel, hand hovering over the comms, but instead of turning off the program, he restarted it and turned it to a higher level of intensity. Anakin balked.
 “Master! She’s going to get killed!” Ashoka cried out, looked to her Master and back to Obi-Wan, a strange feeling of anxiety sitting in her throat. It seemed through all the arguing and annoyances the Jedi were currently engaged in, they forgot about the Captain standing there, bucket under his arm, watching his brother and his Jed’ika. In his mind he kept a chant of ‘Come on, come on, you can do this.’ Over and over he thought, urging you to finish it. He wanted nothing more than in that moment to run down there and do as Cody was doing. He wanted to push you further, to push you to where he knew you could go. But he couldn’t, he was made to stand at ease and watch everything from the viewing deck. But, everything in him was down there on the mat with you, his most beloved, urging you to be better. The only thing on his mind was watching you finish this training exercise, going to your quarters to help you bathe, wrap your wounds, and finally making sure you ate a good meal. If he knew his brother, which he did, Cody was thinking the same thing.
You stood at the beginning once more and took a deep breath, hearing the mechanical beep signaling the beginning of the exercise. ‘Do better,’ you thought, before starting. You moved quickly through, dodging each blast, flipping and jumping higher and higher onto different ledges, using your saber to volley away bolts you could not dodge on your own, until you got to the point where you kept failing. Through the course, you could hear Cody yelling at you to keep going, keep moving, to not stop. You could hear him demanding excellence from you, he wanted more than what you thought you could give. He wanted perfection. It pushed you to go further, to work harder, to be better. You wouldn't fail your men and you wouldn't fail Cody. You dug deep into yourself and thought back to the training your former Master gave you, to that harsh and dangerous form. You could do it, you just had to concentrate. If you could find your center, you could toe that line made of shadows while still holding onto the light. You breathed deep, ‘allow your emotions to guide your strikes...feel that bubbling of anger and frustration, grab onto it to push you further. But do not give in. Just use it to fuel your power.’ Your old Master’s voice rang in your head, their training at the forefront of your mind. Multiple bolts fired at once, but instead of one landing a hit, you switched into Form VII, into Juyo. The most difficult saber form, Juyo was dark and dangerous, only used by those skillful Masters equipped with the knowledge of what it means to touch the Darkside and still stand in the Light. Used by your old Master.. taught to you by them in the shadows of Malachor… You shook your muscles out before jumping up against a wall structure, running its length with ease as more bolts were blocked. As you reached its end, you bounced over to the other wall and repeated the pattern, running and blocking, before twisting up onto its ledge. You stood, saber drawn across your body, balancing on the balls of your left foot as your right sat crossed on your thigh. You waited, breathing in and feeling the pulse of the machines across the Force. 
THERE. 
You flipped up, saber swinging around you in a figure eight, blocking each bolt back, volleying them towards the mechanical guns that sprang from the walls.
You landed once more in your previous spot before swan diving to the ground, landing with practiced grace and ease at the end, having finally completed the exercise. “Kark yeah!” Cody grunted, quickly walking to you. You had a tired smile on your face when he reached you.  He reached out to grab your shoulder, squeezing it gently, before letting his hand fall away just as quickly. You looked up at him with adoration. 
“I knew you could do it, Cyare,” he whispered, praising you, before taking a respectful stance, remembering that you were a superior and that you both were not alone. You nodded your thanks and tried to give him a look that said, "I love you". Hopefully he understood. He did.
Cody went to get you a towel to wipe your face as the others joined you on the mat. There were praises and excitement from the other Padawan, but both Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a look; they knew those moves. Knew that stance. A dangerous form like Juyo left unchecked could cause irreparable damage. It might be time for you to study a little under Master Windu if you are to continue in that form. Either way, Obi-Wan could feel the relief and happiness rolling off you, it could wait for another day. He also noticed a few feelings not very Jedi-like, aimed at the Marshall Commander and the Jaig-eyed Captain of the 501st. He quirked an eyebrow, but still he smiled his dazzling smile at you.
Obi-Wan was so proud of you, you felt giddy.  It was all you ever wanted, and you knew you had it. He was proud of you.You proved to yourself and your Master that you weren’t some weak kid playing at being a Jedi. You truly were one and no matter how tired or weary you were, you could finish what you started. 
Later that evening, after getting off duty, Rex made his way to your quarters, a tray of food in hand and a few bandages in the other. He hadn't even stopped at his bunk to change out of his armor. He went straight to the mess hall and then to you, wanting to check in.
When he approached your door, he knocked once before punching in your code, knowing he'd always be welcomed in. When the door slid open, he couldn't help but smile under his helmet at the sight. 
You were sitting on the edge of your desk, freshly showered, robes put away, wearing loose, grey, linen pants and a black smallshirt. Cody was also freshly showered and in clean blacks, his armor stacked neatly by your bed. He sat in your chair, positioned between your legs, wrapping scrapes and cuts from the campaign and the training from earlier in fresh bandages, rubbing bacta on your bruises, and whispering words of praise and love to you.
Beside you both were 3 trays of untouched food, waiting to be consumed; one for you, one for Cody, and one for Rex. 
Rex entered, letting the door slide closed behind him, a soft smile on his lips. He placed the extra tray of food next to the others, took off his bucket, and dropped a kiss to the top of your head before heading to your small refresher. When he exited, loose towel around his waist, Cody’s head was already buried between your naked thighs.
That night you all had the best sleep in ages, you sandwiched between the two men, tangled in sheets and their limbs, finally able to be together after so long apart. None of you would trade it for the world. 
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backhurtyy · 3 years
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so what would it take to convince you to share your thoughts on the atla star wars au 👀👀
OMG.... very little is the answer.... i have so many thoughts, so i’m just happy someone wants to read them! anyways, this got really long- like REALLY LONG- so i’m putting it down below the cut. prepare yourself for some nonsensical rambling, far too much thought into lightsaber forms, and a lot of thought about Zuko and the Force 💖
Set post Great Jedi Purge- the Empire has taken over, with Sith Lord Ozai as the Emperor and having orchestrated the entire war as Supreme Chancellor
Azula is Ozai's apprentice; Zuko was supposed to be his apprentice, however he was never as strong or as good at using the Force as Azula was. He’s still powerful, but more in how he uses the Force to help him in a fight and to find things, rather than Azula, who can use Force lightning, excels at mind tricks, etc.
So instead of taking him as his apprentice, Ozai assigns Zuko to the position of Grand Inquisitor and tasks him with leading the Inquisitiorious Program to track down the Jedi that managed to escape the purge.
He uses Jar’Kai, with dual blood red blades…. This ended up becoming the form he used because when he was young, he could never get the hang of fighting with just one lightsaber and always used a reverse grip that left him far too open and vulnerable. Piandao, who was a darksider rather than a full Sith Lord, decided to teach him Jar'Kai to see if it would work better for him, and it did. Anyways, we’re gonna come back to his lightsabers later cause I’m very into them lmao
Aang was the Padawan of Grand Master Gyatso, raised at the Jedi Temple, and uses a Saberstaff with Soresu as his primary form (I think the defensive style and analytical approach to combat translates really well to Aang’s personality and airbending as a whole... also it's Obi-Wan's primary form, and I think they'd be friends)
Anyways, Aang and Master Gyatso were on a mission when Order 66 went out. Gyatso knew Aang was the galaxy’s only chance, always believing him to be the Chosen One who was destined to bring balance to the Force, and so he told him to run. Aang didn’t want to leave him, but Gyatso used the Force to send Aang to their ship and ordered their BD unit, MO-2, to get them out of there
Aang didn’t see Gyatso fall to the troopers, but he felt it in the Force, and swore that he would do what he could to defeat the Empire
He scoured the galaxy for other Jedi and rebels for a long time, trying to hide his identity and the beginnings of the arrow tattoos that marked him as a Jedi Padawan learner all the while he’s running from the Inquisition (I imagine him as a near humanoid species, who have tattoos rather than Padawan braids or silica beads. As they become Padawans, Knights, and Masters, the level of detail on the tattoo is increased)
One day, the Grand Inquisitor catches up to Aang and shoots his ship down over an ice planet in the Outer Rim
Okay now to Sokka and Katara-
Katara and her family has known that she was gifted with the Force since she was a baby making her toys fly throughout their home on Carlac, but being able to use the Force in the Outer Rim is dangerous. They're not often found by the Jedi Order since it’s too far out, but bounty hunters, pirates, and the criminal rings in the Outer Rim have no such limitations, and Jedi are valuable
Following ATLA, someone heard about a Force user on their planet and sent pirates/bounty hunters after her when she was little, and Kya sacrificed herself to save her daughter
Basically, Katara has had to hide her abilities her entire life even though all she wanted to be was a Jedi, and it’s only gotten more dangerous since news of the purge reached them. Sokka and Hakoda would do anything to protect her, but they knew it was only a matter of time before the Inquisition found her, especially since she has very little training in terms of shielding and what not. So, they pack up and leave to join the rebellion, where they hope to find a Jedi who can train her, and end up on Hoth
They quickly settle into the rebellion, with Hakoda becoming one of its leaders and Sokka and Katara two of its best strategists, pilots, and fighters
Sokka also gets Mandalorian armor and a vibroblade because I say so
They’re out on patrol when they see Aang’s ship go down in the tundra, and Katara feels something in the Force. She knows whoever is in that ship can help her become a Jedi, and before Sokka can stop her, she’s already running towards it
Basically they bring Aang back to base and he promises to teach Katara how to use the Force- just one thing, one of his kyber crystals is broken, so he needs to go to Ilum and get a new one. Katara asks to go with him, and he agrees
Back to Zuko- he didn’t trust that shooting Aang down was enough, so he flies down to the surface to catch him, and there’s a fight between the rebels and the forces Zuko brought with him. Aang and Zuko have a Maul/Qui-Gon esque fight, and eventually Aang manages to get away
He, Sokka, and Katara all leave together, and basically they fly across the galaxy in their transport, APPA, and make it to Ilum to get both Aang and Katara kyber crystals
Katara gets a blue crystal, and Aang teaches her Shien as her lightsaber form (it’s quick, fluid, and alternates between defense and all out attacks, just like her waterbending). They spend a lot of time meditating and going through saber forms and lifting stuff around the ship with the Force and generally being a pain in Sokka's ass because when things fall to the ground, they always manage to land on his foot
(Sokka's proud of his sister and thinks it's cool she's got magic powers, but do things always have to land on his foot??? He wasn't even on the same side of the room as them!!!!)
Basically along the way they meet Suki, another rebel who’s deadly with a blaster, and the Kyoshi Warriors. I also think it would be super cool if the Kyoshi Warriors were from Naboo and were the Queen’s Handmaidens- they look harmless, but these girls are warriors and can FIGHT
Zuko’s chasing them the entire time too
They find Toph along the way too, a super powerful Force user who uses it to “see” and is also a very talented psychometric. I think she’d use Ataru as her lightsaber form since it uses the Force to enhance movements (also the psychometry is for no specific reason other than I think it would be neat and also she and Vos have similar personalities lmao)
Anyways the plot of the show continues until at some point, Azula is sent after Zuko since he’s taking too long to capture the Gaang, and they team up to stop them. Azula uses Force lightning on Aang, but Katara manages to get them out of there before the siblings can capture them. She’s a very powerful Force healer, so she manages to save Aang
Okay this is the part that I think about nonstop, which is that Zuko goes back to the Empire after that fight, but he just feels wrong. The Force doesn’t feel the same anymore, he's cold all the time, his crystals scream at him and burn his hands when he tries to use them, his eyes are aching, everything his father says makes his head pound and the Force curl around him unpleasantly, and he has no clue why (he does, he's just too scared to admit that there's always been a little more light in him than his father wants there to be)
Basically he finds out something about how his great grandfather Sozin used to be a Jedi, until Sozin Fell and killed his best friend Roku, another Jedi and also Zuko’s mother’s grandfather, and he realizes there really always has been light in him. He finally admits to himself that he doesn’t actually want to be a part of the Empire, or a darksider
While he’s on the run, he spends a lot of time meditating and finding himself in the light side of the Force and stuff, and one day he opens up his sabers and purifies his crystals
I like to think that Zuko exists as sort of a Grey Jedi, who isn’t a darksider, but will never follow the Jedi Code or use the Force the way Aang does. So when he purifies his crystals, they turn a blinding white, to show how his destiny is in his own hands now. Also, I think one of his eyes stays Sith gold, while the other is dark brown, a color he hadn’t seen since before his mother died and his father began his training
Anyways, the Gaang saves the day; Aang fulfills the prophecy of the Chosen One and brings balance to the Force by defeating Ozai. Zuko and Katara fight Azula, and in typical Star Wars/ATLA fashion, Zuko gets Force Lightning’d. And up in the skies, Sokka, Toph, and Suki wreak havoc on the Empire’s Star Destroyers, and Sokka ends up breaking his leg because someone shoots the jetpack on his armor while he's trying to escape with Toph
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gwaean · 3 years
Text
The Rescuers  
Part One: “Old acquaintances meet again"
 Summary: You are a mandalorian rebel friends with Captain Rex so you are well aware of the entire "clone situation" going on. And of course you want to help as much as you can. You then go to Ryloth trying to help the Syndulla's and maybe find your old friend Cody. 
 Pairing: None. Yet. But will be a Crosshair x Reader.
 Gender: There'll be no mentions of gender or pronouns on this part yet. Though further in the story it might have she/they pronouns used.
 Word count: 1.6k
 Tags: Injury recover, post-clone wars story, rescuing clones/friends, a bit of melancholy?
 Warning: Brief description of injury.
 Notes: So, I literally dreamed most parts of this story (I know, crazy Star Wars obsession here). I filled up some parts as I was writing of course. And it turned out a bit like a beautiful sad tragic. I might even do a playlist for this fanfic actually. Hope u enjoy it :) 
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 The war, the republic, the jedi all have ended. Literally on the same day. And what it seemed like a fresh start, finally a moment of peace in the chaos turned into nightmares. You weren’t there when it happened, you just heard the news of Obi-Wan saying the jedi order and the republic had fallen and you also heard the now Emperor Palpatine telling everyone that the clone wars has ended and the jedi were traitor, they’ve tried to assassinate him according to well… himself. And now he’s forming this new galactic empire, giving people numbers like the ones clones used to have and killing off any resistance against this new order. Everyone seemed to believe him, you gotta give him that he was a pretty damn’ good  liar indeed. But you knew better than that. You are mandalorian after all and were friends with no one less than Duchess Satine and Senator Padmé. You helped them countless times in their diplomatics and you even fought with the jedi and the clones at times. They were good people, yes, the order might have messed up at lot but traitors? Murders? They sure didn’t deserve to die like that and I guess… No one does.
  You quickly then joined the rebellion. There you found many of former politics like Senator Organa and even a clone… Captain Rex (or is it Commander now?). You’ve met him once before and he seemed like a good person and looks like he’s really a great man just like you thought. You soon became friends. But sadly, the other clones you knew before like Cody were still with the empire. Though both you and Rex were very determinate to help others like him. And also, obviously, protect your allies against the empire.
  Well, as expected trouble begins. There’s been rumors about what’s going in Ryloth with the Syndulla’s and the empire occupation. Worried about them and their people, you go there to help as you can. And if there’s need, you’d call more rebels to help too though you didn’t want to envolve more people yet because you’re afraid of the reaction it could cause ( and what that would cost for ryloth and its people). You also have a tiny tiny hope that maybe just maybe Cody could be there.
  Arriving in Ryloth, you discover the Syndulla family have indeed oppose agains the empire occupation and they’ve went into a lot of trouble because of that but apparently a group of mercenaries (?) have already rescued them from the prison they were sent to. One less problem for you to fix I guess. You were glad for them but you still want to spy a little on the empire and see what you could find out after all, the trip couldn’t be for nothing.
  You find your way and get to a particular high hill with a great view of one imperial base. You pick up your binoculars and the only person you see in a sort of balcony is a very depressive-looking Crosshair. You remember him from that one time clone force 99 saved your butt from the mess you’ve yourself in. He was… quite unfriendly, let’s say. But he did get the job done and made sure you were okay so you just ignored his behavior. Looking at him now it was looking at a shadow of him. 
   It made you remember what Rex told you once: 
“We clones were all created with this chip thing in our my minds. We were made for the war and the war only but apparently someone thought it would be great if they let us think we've got free will. That we could be anything we wanted to be after the war. So we made friends, some of us found a family with our jedi. They let we hope. Just so we have all of that taken away from us with order 66. The war had ended for everyone except for us. We had our will taken from us, our minds controlled by this chip and we had to follow orders. While we're still there conscious of what we were doing we had to kill the people we fought together the entire war. I remember her face... I'm so glad she didn't see my face. I couldn't bare.” 
 Thinking about what all the clones been through, you can’t just leave him like this. He did save you once and this was your chance to repay that. Rex keeps saying we can’t save everyone (more to himself than to you) but one person is better than nobody, right?  At the time you improvise a plan: neither the empire nor Cross can’t know yet that you’re a rebel. You haven’t done anything yet incriminating (at least not that they were aware of). So you can just jump in there where he was standing and talk to him. Worst case scenario he ignores you. However you sure knew how to annoy him enough that at least he would call you out and when that happens you act. Ok, that you still have to figure out exactly how you would act. Well, half of a plan is better than no plan.
  You just jump in behind his back and of course he points his gun at you as expected. But he apparently recognizes who it’s standing in front of him and put his riffle down. 
   “ Hello there.”  You say.
   “What do you think you’re doing?”  He replies.
   “Oh, please, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me.” 
     He gives you a faint of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 
     You smiled back. “But seriously, what you’re doing here all alone? And why- You finally noticed the burn mark on his now bald head. - are you like this? Doesn’t the empire takes care of its soldiers? Nor your squad? The bad batch, right? That’s what you called yourselves?” 
     His face closes again. “You have nothing to do with that. I’m-” 
     “By yourself?” You pause for a moment. “Alright, I get it. You’ve probably been through a lot. We all have. Not sure why you’re like this but it doesn’t matter right now. I just wonder… Don’t you want to get out of all of this?” 
     Cross pauses for a moment. It seems like he's considering the possibility. “I… I can’t.” 
     “But…”  You then think. You remind yourself of how protective he was that one time you were saved by them. Maybe this instinct was still there, you had to try. You saw a pointed rock close to where you were standing and decided that you would accidentally cut yourself. “Ouch!” 
    “What’s up?” 
    “Oh! Nothing! Just might have cut myself here.” You show your hand now with a bit bigger than you expected cut and some blood.
     He almost laughs at it. “What a little clumsy one you are, eh?” 
     His mocking at you, that’s something, right? “Yeah, I guess….” 
     “Well, let’s go?”  He points to the door.
     “Go where?” 
     “Don’t you wanna take care of that, sweetheart?” 
     “Right, medical bay then?” 
     “Obviously.”  Perfect. He would be right where you needed him to be.
  The both of you enter the facility and walk directly to the medical bay. The empire base is pretty much a bland dark and boring military base with some troopers walking around, some commanders (you think) yelling at the soldiers and some droids doing whatever they have to do. You knew only that they were “r - unities” but droids weren’t exactly your area of expertise. However you do notice that the troopers walking around still wear the same clone armor from back the war. And you feel guilty. Because as much as you’d like you won’t be able to help them all. They’ll stay there with their chips on being controlled by the empire…. By the force, that was a hole guilty trip you knew you shouldn’t take. It wasn’t your fault. No, no. They did this. Palpatine and his men were the monsters. Not you. And certainly not these poor clones. One day, yes, one day maybe you could come back and save them?
 “Hmmm…. You wanna me to do this?”  Cross says. You were so distracted in your thoughts you don’t even realized you were already in the medical bay.
 “Oh. You don’t have to.” 
 “It's fine. I’m used to do this anyway.” 
  “Ok. Be my guest then?” 
  “Wow, you’re so funny.” He jokes.
  “Whatever. Just do your thing.” 
  “Give me your hand.”  
 You give him your hand and he takes it. And to your surprise he’s very gentle while taking care of your wound. He applies some alcohol pads to clean the wound. And as he presses the wound to stop the bleeding you reach for your gun and keep looking at his face. His very concentrated. It’s almost like the rest of the galaxy doesn’t matter. He’s only there at the moment focused on helping you. And you’re trying to plan how you’re gonna knock him out to take his chip off.
 “Now I’m gonna get some stuff to make a bandage for ya, ok?” He says and turns his back. Now is you chance. You turn your blaster to stun only and shoots. He falls. 
 “I’m sorry. But there’s no other way.” You whisper as if he’s actually listening. 
 It takes some effort (seriously, Crosshair's heavier than he looks) but you manage to put him on one these surgical stretchers. You also have to learn super quick how to use the pad control to see where the chip’s in and take it off. But it’s done. And you wait and wait… For what it seemed like hours though it was only like 15 minutes.
And he wakes up very confused.
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sonoftatooine · 3 years
Text
Whumpay 2021
DAY 19: HOPE / DESPAIR
Finally, this one took ages
Characters: Padmé Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker
Warnings: Brainwashing
Summary: Winter Soldier AU - Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker disappeared from the face of the Galaxy the day Palpatine executed Order 66. Padmé Amidala, however, managed to escape from Coruscant when the Empire was formed and became a founding member of the Rebellion. Several years later, when Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to capture the Emperor’s infamous Sith apprentice, Darth Vader, Padmé is left to deal with the horrifying discovery of what happened to her husband at the fall of the Republic.
***
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Padmé Amidala, former Senator of Naboo and member of the High Council of the Rebel Alliance, frowned down at the screen displaying the flickering vid feed of her lost husband in the room adjacent to the high security—or as high security as their current base could afford them—cell in which he was being held.  She had been stood there for at least ten minutes, hovering, waiting, and in all of that time, Anakin had not so much as twitched—so much so that she might have been fooled into thinking that she was looking at a still image if not for the rise and fall of his chest and the occasional blink. It was so unlike him—her restless husband, always on the move, but who had always come back to her until the day that he didn't—that it made her eyes burn with the effort to hold back tears. This was wrong, so wrong—
“Yes, Obi-Wan, I'm sure” she said once she was sure she could bite back the sharp reply that was on the tip of her tongue that the man beside her didn't at all deserve. Of course she was sure. How could she not be sure, when this was her husband—the man she loved with all the force of a thousand stars—at stake? She had to.
“You don't have to, Padmé.” Stood beside her, arms folded over his chest, and tired blue eyes fixed as unrelentingly on Anakin's frozen figure as her own, Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed, his mouth curved downwards in an unhappy line. Grief had aged him badly since the horrors of Order 66 and the beginnings of Palpatine's Empire. There were new lines around his eyes, and his auburn hair was fast turning white, but the change over those years was not nearly as stark as that which had been wrought upon him over the past few days. He looked raw and worn down, no matter how he tried to disguise it with his regular stoicism, as if he was on the verge of being swallowed by despair. Ever since the Empire had come for him on his last mission. Ever since they had managed to capture the Emperor's enforcer, Darth Vader.
Vader. Lord Vader. The name sent a shiver of horror through her, but not for the reasons that it once had. Before, she had known him simply as the latest in what seemed to be Darth Sidious' ever replenishing supply of Sith apprentices, and one of the most troubling additions to the Empire's ranks. Robed and masked entirely in black, without even the slightest indication to what lay beneath his impenetrable disguise, he had been a complete unknown to all but Palpatine himself—Empire and Rebellion alike—save for the brutal efficiency with which he carried out his duties. They had watched the Emperor's transmission introducing him to the Galaxy—her and Obi-Wan and Bail, while Luke and Leia slept soundly in their cribs watched over by Threepio and Artoo—from their bunker about a year after the Empire was formed. Padmé remembered seeing him, standing tall and motionless, three steps behind his master, and had felt a frisson of fear and misery run through her that she hadn't quite understood at the time.
She understood now. Oh Force, she thought as the image of Anakin, swamped in black robes and strapped, unconscious, to a gurney, and Obi-Wan's anguished look as he gasped out “he doesn't remember us; he doesn't even remember who he is”, swam through her mind. Oh Force, she understood now.
“Yes, I do,” she said, with a nod that looked far more decisive than she felt. She clutched the pile of warm cloaks and blankets that she had brought with her tight to her chest. Anakin had always hated the cold, and she couldn't bear the thought of him all alone in that cell without at least making sure he was as comfortable as possible. “He's my husband. I want to see him.”
She wanted to see him ever since they had brought him off the ship, ever since she had been dragged away from Coruscant by a harried Obi-Wan and Bail, crying and begging for them to take her back, that they needed to find Anakin, they couldn't leave him there. Anakin who she had last seen standing to the right of the Chancellor during the meeting of the Delegation of the 2000, hands bundled into the voluminous sleeves of his Jedi robes and not quite able to meet her eyes. Who had been sent by the Council to report to Palpatine the day of Order 66, and had never been seen since.
Until now.
“Padmé, he tried to attack me when I went to talk to him,” Obi-Wan reminded her grimly. “Ahsoka too. He doesn't remember any of us. All he knows is what Sidious has made him believe. What if he hurts you?”
Padmé shook his head.
“He won't hurt me” she whispered. He wouldn't hurt her. Anakin would never— But she didn't think he could ever have tried to hurt Obi-Wan either. Or Ahsoka. But he didn't remember any of them, because Sidious had taken him and forced him to forget everything, turned him into his weapon— She was shaking, full of rage and grief, but she pushed them both down. It was alright now. It would have to be alright. He was with the Rebellion now and they would heal him of whatever vile Sith had done to him and then he could meet their two precious children and everything would be alright—
“Padmé.” She thought, faintly, that Obi-Wan had managed to hone saying her name in a tone of utmost exasperation and frustration to a fine art. No doubt Anakin had given him a great deal of practice in the past. “He's not the Anakin we know. Not anymore.”
This time, it took a great deal more effort for her to swallow her harsh retort. Obi-Wan had given up hope a long time ago—the night of Order 66 when his bond to Anakin had snapped. He had thought him dead, and blamed himself for it—the Council had pushed him into spying on Palpatine, he had said, and he was sure that Anakin had discovered the man's secret and been killed for it. She remembered how he had looked, blurred through her tears as they rushed through hyperspace away from Coruscant—dishevelled and worn, the telltale signs of his battle with Grievous burnt into his Jedi robes, and a haunted look in his eyes, misted up with tears that he refused to let fall. He had come back from his last visit to Anakin's cell much the same, convinced that his old padawan had died with whatever it was that Palpatine had put him through, that what was left was nothing but a shell of the man he had loved as a brother.
(It still hadn't stopped him from abruptly ending a call with Yoda when the old Jedi Grandmaster had suggested “lost to the Dark, young Skywalker is; let him go, you should”.)
“I don't believe that,” she said. She had never believed Anakin to be dead. Refused to believe it, told Luke and Leia all sorts of stories about their brave and dashing father that she saw so much of in each of them, hoping beyond hope that one day he would be there to share his own stories with them. She wasn't about to give up now, when he was here—finally here, in front of her, no matter how changed, and no matter what Jedi platitudes about letting go she heard. “We can save him. I know we can.”
She turned her pleading gaze to Obi-Wan, but he refused to meet her eyes. He was still staring at the screen, and though his expression was blank, she could see the longing in his gaze—longing and fear. Fear that he would get his hopes up when nothing could be done. Fear that she would get hurt trying. Padmé sighed sadly. Obi-Wan may have given up hope, but she wasn't about to let him fall into despair.
“Obi-Wan, you'll be here the whole time,” she said, softly, soothingly. “I have faith that you'll protect me, if need be.”
Obi-Wan scowled, finally turning to look at her, but there was a hint of something gentle and fond beneath it.
“The pair of you will be the death of me” he sighed. It was barely a ghost of how he had been before, when they had all been together and happy and none of them had been brainwashed into becoming a Sith, but it was familiar enough that Padmé couldn't help but send him a watery smile.
“Please, Obi-Wan, I'm ready.”
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan nodded.
“I'll be just on the other side of the door.”
Despite her words, Padmé's heart felt like it might burst out of her chest as she stepped into Anakin's cell, the pneumatic hiss of the door closing behind her reverberating in her ears like a threat. She was not afraid. At least, she was not afraid of the figure sitting, head bowed, on the little cot in front of her—he had not attacked any of his visitors since the two Jedi; indeed, had barely acknowledged them, enough so that the High Council had deemed it as safe as it would ever be for her to see him—but she was afraid of what would happen next. Of what she would learn from this meeting. Of looking into her husband's eyes and finding him unrecognisable. But Padmé was never one to shy away from things that made her afraid, and so she took a deep breath, and murmured:—
“Anakin.”
No response.
“I brought these.” She gestured to the robes and blankets in her arms. “I thought you might be cold.”
That got a reaction from him. Slowly, jerkily, as if his head were being lifted up by a string, he turned his face towards her. The sight of him made her want to scream—scream and cry and hold him in her arms and never let go. He looked sick and gaunt, and the change from golden tan to waxy white looked even more stark under the bright lights of the cell, the circles under his eyes dark like bruises. And his eyes, oh his eyes. The sparkling blue that she remembered—had loved and missed so much for all that she saw it every day in the face of their son—had been replaced with the same horrible yellow that she had seen deep set in the sunken face of Emperor Palpatine, gleaming cruelly under the shadow of his hood, during Empire Day transmissions. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Anakin's eyes had always been so expressive, brimming with love and joy and fear and anger and grief, as if he felt too much and too deeply to keep it all inside. It was one of the things that she loved about him. Now, however, he turned those sickly eyes to her and she saw nothing in them but blankness. For the first time in his life, Anakin Skywalker looked upon her and he felt nothing.
Padmé swallowed, fighting back the urge to cry. She wanted to run to him, bury her fingers in his hair and press her lips to his as she used to do each time he came home to her from the war, but, with what felt like a monumental effort, she pushed the desire away. That wasn't what Anakin needed right now, no matter how much she wanted it. Instead, she waited for him to reply, waited for some sort of acknowledgement—anything to indicate what she should do, what she should say.
None came.
She sighed. Stepping forward, she leaned down and placed the pile of clothes next to him on the bed, trying to keep her heart from shattering into a thousand pieces at the tiny flinch he gave as she approached him. Carefully, so as not to startle him, she pulled back, coming to a stop once she was far enough away for him to relax minutely. Hot tears burnt at her eyes.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, wishing that her voice did not sound so shaky, so thick with emotion. Anakin had always had a way of bringing out absolute honesty in her—even when she didn't even know she was trying to hide something—and now, confronted with her husband whom she hadn't seen in years, and who had spent every day of those long years suffering under the man who had enslaved the entire Galaxy to his will, all her politician's training, all her masks and airs had fled her. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't have done a thing to hide her feelings from him.
Anakin frowned.
“You are Padmé Amidala,” he answered tonelessly. His voice was as dead and as flat as the look in his eyes. He sounded hoarse and tired, like he used to after waking up from a particularly bad nightmare. Like he had when he had when he had dreamt of her death in childbirth, only a week before he had disappeared, before she had run and left him— “One of the founders of the Rebellion.”
“That's right,” she said, with a nod that she wasn't sure was meant to encourage him or herself. “Do you— Is there anything else you remember about me?”
She knew it would be no. She knew he remembered nothing. But she wanted so badly for him to remember at least something of her. Wanted to know that Sidious hadn't taken everything from him. No matter what she wanted, though, she knew what his answer would be. Knew it and feared it.
“I understand that it's more usual for an interrogator to ask their prisoner for information,” Anakin replied. He tilted his head to the side, the expression on his face somewhere between confused and wary. “Not questions about themselves.”
He didn't sound like Anakin. Or rather, he sounded like Anakin—his voice sounded like Anakin, but the words, said in that flat, dull tone— It was wrong, all wrong. Oh my love, Padmé thought. My love, what has that monster done to you?
“I'm not interrogating you, Anakin” she said. She fought keep her voice steady and calm, even as she wanted nothing more than to burst into tears. Anakin's frown deepened, a look of suspicion flitting across his face.
“Why does everyone keep calling me that?” he asked, and for the first time, there seemed to be a hint of something else in his flat tone, a hint of uncertainty, of apprehension. His hands twitched, like he wanted to twist his fingers together like he used to do beneath the sleeves of his Jedi robes when he was nervous. Instead, he balled them tight into fists.
Padmé sent him a watery smile.
“It's your name, Ani.”
My Ani, she thought, watching him twitch oddly at the contraction of his name, turning sharply away. Her Ani who didn't even remember his own name. Oh, what was she going to do. How could she help him when he remembered nothing—nothing about his friends, nothing about her, nothing about himself—and they didn't even know what it was that Palpatine had done to him to cause this? She felt despair rushing in on her like a shark that had scented blood in the water, but she pushed back against it. She couldn't given in now. For Anakin's sake, she couldn't give up hope.
“How much has Obi-Wan told you?” she asked carefully. It was a risk mentioning Obi-Wan—a Jedi, a man he had ostensibly been sent to kill before the Rebellion had captured him—but she needed to know how much he had actually taken in.
Yellow eyes flicked back to her, the wariness and suspicion turning his expression even more closed off and guarded than it had been before.
“He told me I was once his Jedi apprentice,” he replied. “But I suppose you'll claim that I was your closest friend in the Senate. Or have you had the chance to corroborate your stories since Kenobi's last visit?”
The harshness of his words—as much as their content—made it all the harder to hold back her tears. Anakin had hardly ever spoken to her like that, was hardly ever sharp with her. Around her, perhaps, when he was particularly upset or frustrated, but rarely with her. It was yet another reminder of what had been done to him—the changes Sidious had forced upon him, as if he were nothing but a droid to be reprogrammed according to an owner's desire. Well, she would fix it, she would help him, and she would never let that vile man near him again. But to do that, she would have to get him to believe her, and for him to believe her, she—
“I'm not lying to you,” she insisted. “I promise you. It's Palpatine—Sidious—who has lied to you. You were a Jedi—have been since you were nine years old. Near the end of the war, the Council was concerned about the powers Palpatine had gathered for himself and sent you to report on him. But you— They sent you to his office the day he ordered the Jedi killed and then you disappeared. The Jedi thought you were dead, but he took you and he did something to you and you don't remember it because—”
“No.”
The sharp growl silenced her rambling mid-sentence. Her mouth clicked shut and her eyes widened as Anakin stood abruptly from the bed, his expression as hard as durasteel. Padmé swallowed, a flicker of nervousness fluttering in her stomach that she ruthlessly pushed down. She wondered if Obi-Wan was getting ready to dash into the cell from the other side of the door, afraid that he was about to attack her. But she refused to share that fear. She had never been afraid of Anakin, and she never would.
“No,” Anakin repeated, more softly this time. Instead of starting towards her, he prowled away to the far corner of the cell, back not quite turned to her—just enough to keep her in his line of sight—and hunched in on himself, arms crossed defensively across his chest. It was such a familiar gesture that, despite herself, Padmé couldn't help but feel a sliver of relief at the sight of it. Whatever Sidious had done to him, he hadn't managed to chase every last part of him from his mind. “My master warned me about this,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “He told me that you would try to deceive me, turn me against him—”
“He's the one deceiving you!,” she cried, trying to ignore worm of uneasiness in her stomach at the thought of the Emperor warning her husband against the Jedi and the Rebellion—or perhaps her specifically. If she could just get him to see, just get him to believe— “I don't know what he's done to you but please, Anakin, all we want is to help you. All I want is to help you. But to help you, I need you to believe me—”
She approached him, slowly, cautiously, as one might a wounded animal. His gaze fixed on her the whole way, wary, unrelenting, but he did not move, frozen to the spot. She itched to reach out to him, to pull him in and hold him close, but she wrestled the urge down to the depths of her heart.
“Please, Ani,” she begged, barely a whisper. “Please.”
Anakin stared down at her, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flash of blue in those yellow eyes.
“You haven't told me who you are,” he said, after a long moment of silence. His tone was guarded, cautious, just as quiet as her own. “Who you were to me. If what you say is true, what did I mean to you?”
Everything, Padmé thought. You meant everything to me. You mean everything to me. You and Luke and Leia. And one day, I'll be able to have them meet their father and you'll mean everything to them too. Her heart, too full of love and fear and hope and despair, ached in her chest, snatching up all her words before they could reach her mouth. How could she say all of this to him? How could she say any of this to him, when he barely believed she was telling him the truth about his name?
“You're—”
She faltered, unsure what to do. Would it be too much for him, finding out that he was married to a woman he didn't even remember? But what could she say? She couldn't lie to him—wouldn't lie to him. She wanted him to trust her again, like he used to before everything had gone so wrong, and how could they ever help him if they too deceived him?
“I'm...I...I'm your wife.”
Anakin froze stock still.
“...What?” he whispered hoarsely.
“It's true.” Padmé could no longer stop herself. She reached out slowly with both hands, making to smooth down his hair—it had always calmed him down after a nightmare; maybe if he accepted the truth, it might soothe him a little now? He gave an odd little jerk at the contact, his tongue darting out nervously to wet his lips, but he didn't pull away, still frozen to the spot, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Please believe me. It's true. I'm your wife—”
“No,” Anakin cut across her again. This time, however, his eyes had not hardened, and he could see the uncertainty creeping into them. His voice shook. “No, you're a liar.”
His hand—the one of durasteel that she had held at their wedding after he lost it to Count Dooku—darted up to snatch her wrist. But instead of shoving her right away, he held her in place, her hand hovering between them, arm extended towards him, as if he could not decide whether to push her aside or pull her closer. Padmé stared into his eyes, vaguely aware that Obi-Wan was probably panicking by now on the other side of the door. She could feel the strength in his grip, well acquainted with what his mechno hand could do. He had been horribly embarrassed when he had managed to crush several of her cups after their wedding, still unused to the amount of force his prosthetic required compared to his flesh hand. If he wanted to, he could tighten his grip now and crush her just as he had those cups, shatter every bone in her wrist. But he did not press down. He didn't even so much as grip hard enough to bruise.
“I'm not,” she cried—really cried, the tears she had been holding back starting to trickle down her cheeks. “I swear to you—”
“You didn't corroborate your stories after all,” Anakin retorted. “I could hardly have been a Jedi and a husband.”
Padmé shook her head, blinking heavily to keep the tears from blurring her vision. It would be alright, she told herself. She could persuade him. His voice was not nearly so certain as his words, and if she could just explain properly��
“You broke the Code to marry me,” she said. “We kept it secret, so you could stay as a Jedi and I could keep serving in the Senate until the war was over—”
“How convenient” Anakin returned, perhaps not as derisively as he had intended. He still hadn't let go of her wrist.
Padmé shook her head again, more insistently this time. She reached once more with her free hand to cradle his cheek in his palm.
“Please, Anakin, please. I love you. I love—”
“No!” With a cry, Anakin jerked backwards. The durasteel fingers wrapped about her wrist pulled away. “No! You—”
But words seemed to be beyond him. He staggered back, hand shooting out to steady himself against the wall, but it wasn't enough. His legs failed him, and he sank down to the floor, forehead pressed to his knees, trembling violently.
“This isn't—,” he hissed. “You can't— It's a trick. It's a trick—”
His hands fisted in his hair, so tight that Padmé thought he might tear clumps of it out. She rushed to his side, wiping her tears away furiously with her sleeve. She had pushed him too far. It was too much for him—too much at once.
“Padmé.”
Anakin's head shot up just as Padmé turned around to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, trying to remain impassive and failing miserably. She caught a flurry of movement in the corner of her eyes—Anakin had forced himself to stand back up, pressed up against the wall. He looked like a cornered loth-wolf, hunched in on himself, ready to spring, his yellow eyes wide and feral.
“It's alright,” Obi-Wan soothed, holding up the palms of his hands to show him he wasn't armed. Despite the calmness of his tone, Padmé could hear the agony beneath his words. “I won't hurt you. We will leave you to rest now.”
He turned a significant glance towards her, and Padmé could do nothing but nod, for all that she wanted to stay. She didn't want to overwhelm Anakin any more than she had already. Swallowing thickly, she forced down her tears, turning to meet her husband's unnatural yellow eyes with her own glistening brown.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
She made it to the other side of the door before she broke down in tears.
(Later, when she came to check on him to find him curled up in the warm robe she'd brought him, she cried for very different reasons).
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inkformyblood · 3 years
Text
i will wake in the morning
Cody doesn’t want the chance to hurt Obi-Wan after the man steals him away from the Empire, but the Jedi still hasn’t learnt to keep hold of his lightsaber. And old habits die hard…
Pairing: Codywan
Day 03 Prompt Lightsaber (Post-Order 66)
@codywanweek
“Cody!”
The man beneath Obi-Wan shudders and jerks but doesn’t wake, his hands stretching up to push at the Jedi’s hips in a futile attempt to move him away. His eyes are open and as black as the void of space, a harsh cry tearing from his throat as his back bowed, the bones of his spine cracking in a biting melody.
“Mhi kyr’amu… Mhi kyr’amu cuun Jetii. Ni kyr’amu—“
Obi-Wan’s heart shattered in his chest, already broken and barely healed from the previous night, but he pressed it down. He had known that this would likely happen when he stole Cody back from the Empire, unable to see the man he loved put through further pain when he could stop it, but it still hurt to see him like this, trembling in his arms and fighting a battle Obi-Wan couldn’t help him with.
He couldn’t afford his weakness to hurt Cody further, so forced himself to focus, stretching out a tentative hand to draw a thread of the Force to them, honed to a sharp point like a scalpel.
It was clouded around them, a swirling miasma that danced with the frequent sandstorms that Obi-Wan found himself shrinking away from when he previously would have curled into its embrace. Despite the darkness, however, Cody shone.
He was brilliant, the soft blush of a Coruscanti sunrise mixed with the vibrant oranges of his armour. Obi-Wan reached for the blight in Cody’s mind, felt the man pull against his hold, and Obi-Wan curled forward, drawing him into kov’nyn and pulling at the remains of the chip in the same motion.
Cody gasped, the noise catching in his throat like he had been shot, and he went limp against Obi-Wan, his head falling backwards and his hands falling away from Obi-Wan’s hips. For a moment, Obi-Wan couldn’t breathe, the sudden silence ringing in his ears before he became aware of the slow rise and fall of Cody’s chest.
Tears burned at his eyes, overwhelming relief flooding through him, and Obi-Wan bowed his head, resting for a moment as he listened to the reverberation of Cody’s heartbeat. His skin was tacky with sweat, and a dull ache radiated through his hips, bringing with it the promise of vibrant purple bruises, but none of it mattered.
Cody was radiant in the pale light of the three moons that spilled through the small window, and he moved to curl around Obi-Wan as the man slipped from his hips without a moment’s pause.
They were both burning, their skin sticking where they pressed together, but Cody only clung tighter. His curls brushed against the soft underside of Obi-Wan’s throat, his beard rasping against Cody’s skull when he moved closer. One leg was thrown over his hip, and Obi-Wan followed the curve of his thigh with his hand, settling on Cody’s waist.
Sleep came quickly, blanketing them both with the hope of a gentler tomorrow.
Morning brought with it the gentle patter of a rare rainstorm and, for a moment, Obi-Wan could believe he was in his room at the Jedi temple on Coruscant with a small flock of birds balanced on his windowsill as they ate from the feeders, seeds scattering onto the cool stone. Reality broke with the familiar scent of sweet fruit, and Obi-Wan’s mouth watered, his stomach growling in a reminder that he had skipped the evening meal last night in favour of meditation.
His clothes were carefully folded on the small chest in the corner, and Cody’s were noticeably absent. Instead, the linen trousers he wore at night were in their place, the heavy dark stitches at the ankles lined up with mechanical precision. Obi-Wan got dressed quickly, leaving the collar of his shirt open before stepping into the main room and pausing.
Cody had tied his loose shirt just below his ribs, his elbow brushing against the knot at his side as he swayed while he cooked. A small plate of fruit rested on the countertop, the flesh already carefully exposed and the skins placed on a separate plate for the bantha’s, and Obi-Wan thought he could not love Cody more. It was overwhelming and terrifying and eternal in a way he had never dared to imagine before.
“I know you say I don’t need to thank you for being there, but thank you,” Cody said, glancing over his shoulder as a warm smile unfurled across his face. He was beautiful, and Obi-Wan crossed the floor in an instant, wrapping his arms around Cody’s waist to kiss him, tasting the sweet stickiness on his lips, swallowing down his laugh when Cody leant back against him.
“You are worth the effort to take care of,” Obi-Wan promised, lightly bumping his nose against Cody’s. This close, he could see the new lines at the corners of Cody’s eyes and at the corners of his mouth, and he moved to kiss them, Cody’s eyelashes brushing against his cheek.
“You are forgetting something though, Obi-Wan.” Cody spoke his name like a prayer, hesitant and filled with awe that didn’t detract from the note of amusement coiled through it.
Obi-Wan hummed a questioning noise, distracted from answering properly by kissing down Cody’s shoulder. Scars littered the man’s skin, some only able to be felt as he ghosted his lips over them and some shining silver through his half-lidded observation.
Cody raised his shoulder, a silent obstacle in his path and lightly bumped his head to Obi-Wan’s. It wasn’t a new habit they had fallen into since coming here; the casual touch of a hand when the fall of Obi-Wan’s robes covered the gesture, tapping their shoulders together when it could be mistaken as the swaying of the ship, but it felt different now.
It was different now.
“Have a look and tell me.” Cody’s voice had fallen into the same cadence he used with the newer troopers, a gentle encouragement mixed with expectation, and Obi-Wan sighed, grief threading through his heart at what could have been. This wasn’t the life he had pictured for them in the rare moments he let himself look beyond tomorrow.
Turning, Obi-Wan’s gaze darted over the interior of their home. It was small but functional, barely larger than four strides between the walls. Above where Cody was cooking, cupboards had been cut into the walls, yellowing plants hanging between the packaged spices. A low table — the surface worn and twisted by an ocean that hadn’t existed in centuries — sat in front of a small couch, the fabric worn and stained. In one corner, two metal chests sat, one a faded orange and the other a bright silver, but remnants of the sterile black coating still lingered around the bolts. On the far wall, the door to the fresher was tightly closed while the door to their bedroom hung ajar. Nothing was out of place.
“My dear, I’m not seeing what you’re talking about.”
Cody laughed, a deep chuckle that rumbled through them both like a tremor. His hand was warm as he reached to twine his fingers through Obi-Wan’s. The skin on his palm was hardened, but there were patches of softness in between.
“This.” Cody raised their joined hands and pressed them into the side of his thigh where Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hung. “You forgot it out here. Again.”
Obi-Wan nodded, forcing himself to breathe slowly, willing the frantic fluttering of his heart to calm.
“I’m a soldier who can’t shoot.” Cody’s voice was flat, closed off, and his grip tightened on the knife as he cut through the end of the piece of fruit with a harsh snap. He had whispered to Obi-Wan weeks ago, surrounded by the twisted remains of his blaster, his hands trembling, that whenever he tried to shoot, he saw Obi-Wan through his scope, trusting and loving and unsuspecting of the danger. “I can’t protect you like I used to. But I can still do this, and I can still love you for as long as you’ll have me.”
“You don’t need to do anything for me, Cody. Just having you here with me, knowing that you love me and I love you, that’s enough.”
Obi-Wan paused. Even without looking, he could sense the frown on Cody’s face, the words he wanted to say getting tangled in his throat.
“I know we spoke about it before… But I would like to train you to fight with a lightsaber.”
Cody froze for a moment before forcing himself back into motion, pulling one breath in through clenched teeth and then another. Obi-Wan could remember every moment Cody picked up his lightsaber, the Force singing in exaltation, but he had only wielded it truly once: a single swipe, his teeth bared and blood trickling from a fresh cut in his head. He had been glorious.
“I’d like that, cyare.”
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spacegirlinorbit · 3 years
Text
Help Me Understand
Part 1
Obi wan x reader
Angst, fluff
Takes place during ROTS. Y/n there to be by Obi wan side as he discovers the truth behind the abrupt turn of events in the war, Anakin becoming darth vadar, and eventually how he will come to fight him.
Let’s be honest now, I don’t know how the fuck Obi wan did this without falling to pieces and having multiple breakdowns on the spot
Angst prompts :“I don’t want space. I want you. ...I need you, please stay with me.” “You don’t have to face him alone, you’re not alone.” 
SIDENOTE: ‘//’ when its one parenthesis's they are talking through the force and when its double ‘’ like normal its being said aloud 
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We all felt it. The shift in the force and environment of the entire infinite galaxy. Jedi all connected felt the buzz in the air and their connections faltering causing minor pain of links being cut without warning. The force connected the Jedi to all things. Alive and dead. The war that we have been fighting has taken a turn for the worst. It wasn’t hard to suspect what was taking place, but even I knew as I felt the confusion in the force right before my fellow Jedi fell. 
Chancellor Palpatine had called for Order 66. 
We were not prepared for our own army to turn against us, but here we are. I try to silence the force as it overwhelms with my sensitivity to see and feel the emotional tethers that connect Jedi to the force. Jedi face a war within their walls. The clones have turned on them and a power shift has caused a rift in the force. 
I, friends with Obi-wan and Anakin, have been asked to stay with Padme. To protect her while they fight their battles. I did not mind seeing as Padme and I have grown to be friends over the years as her a senator and me a Jedi. 
Many times we have been stationed on Coruscant doing our diplomatic duties to the republic. Only now I fear, those efforts were for nothing. 
As the pain fell away, I reached out to the force and let the force guide me to my brothers and sisters. My heart felt like it was being stabbed a thousand times over as they all fell with grace. 
May the force be with you. A tear ran down my face and I drew out of the force. 
Then I hear it like a distant dream, ‘My love’ whispers softly that I barely caught it. 
“Obi- Wan?” I say aloud with a gasp, he’s never called me that before.  ‘Are you okay? Are you safe?’
‘I am now, dear. I have just received contact from Senator Organa. I am going to meet him now and Master Yoda.  Are you safe? Are you and Padme safe?’
‘Yes, Obi. We are safe for now. I fear the clones will come for me any minute.’ 
‘Be vigilant and I’ll be there soon.’ He says and I can hear and feel the frustrations in his heart and mind. Confusing times and the stress on top of it all doesn’t help it. 
‘Stay safe, Obi. Please.’ I try to contain my composure on the outside but on the inside I can’t hide my dread and panicked state. 
‘You too, y/n.’ 
‘Obi’ I reach out a bit more with a bit of harshness like I was crashing into him. 
‘Yes?’ He breathes. I want to question what he meant before. My love. Sure he’s called me nicknames before but that’s nothing new for the flirty handsome Jedi master. But that felt different. 
I decide against bringing it up now. ‘Just...get back to me once you have received news. I’ll keep my comlink open.’
‘Will do, dove.’ 
The connection is cut. We pull away from the force and I sit on the couch lowering my head into my hands. 
“What’s wrong, y/n?” Padme asks standing by the window she has been staring out of. 
“Nothing. Just talked to Obi.” She looks at me confused and then her face resorts to understanding. 
“The force.” She says. 
“Yes. He is safe. Something has shifted in the war, but everything will be fine.” I say trying not to have the emotional pregnant woman burst into tears. 
“C3PO.” I say as he walks into the room. He nods to me and walks over to Padme. 
“The chancellor's office indicated Master Anakin returned to the Jedi Temple. Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be alright.” C3PO relays to Padme. 
I knew it from the moment I felt in the force earlier. Master Anakin Skywalker has fallen to the dark side. 
Padme can’t hold back the sob and pours out her emotions as she cries into her hand, hugging her body with the other. I get up and do my best to soothe her. Padme has been on edge when it comes to Anakin and with the senate nothing has been looking good lately.
“Come sit down.” I tell her and pull her to the couch. I know she doesn’t need to hear it to know what C3PO’s message actually meant. But I feel it within her and in myself that maybe there's hope for Anakin. 
I look out the window from the couch and see the jedi temple up in smoke and burning down slowly as it’s licked with flames spread about the temple. I don’t even want to try to reach out to Anakin for fear of what will confirm that I should be hopeless after all. Probably best for my protection anyway. If he’s at the temple now and he hasn’t detected a change in me I could be good as dead. 
So I do the one thing I never thought I would have to do. I cut myself off my the force. I hide my presence and make it ordinary. Like a switch has been turned off but a very powerful switch that will and can leave people wondering if I live or died. I just need to buy time in order for Anakin not to sense me. 
I watch out the window and as I suspected I see Anakin make his way through the other speeders and fighters in the sky. It’s now or never. 
“Padme listen to me. I have to hide now. Obi wan has told me the clones have turned on us Jedi. I sense Anakin on his way. He will be able to protect you now. Meanwhile I must go and see if fellow Jedi are still alive in the building. But please don’t relay any of this to Anakin. Just tell him I went out and I haven’t been back. Don’t let him know you know about the clones.” I talk fast knowing I only have two minutes before Anakin arrives. 
“Of course. Is he really-“ I can see it in her eyes as she hesitates to finish her question. 
“All I know is that he loves you. Have hope.” She nods and squeezes my hands as she takes them into hers. Letting me know it’s okay. 
Everything is not okay. Everybody knows it. 
I go inside Padme's bedroom and go to her bathroom. And hop on the counter to prop myself up into the ceiling vents. I climb through the ceiling vents so I’m close to where Padme and Anakin stand on the balcony. 
“What happened?” I hear Padme. 
“The Jedi tried to overthrow the Republic.” Lies. Anakin sounds different. Something is terribly off about him but with my force down to insure my safety I can’t figure out what. 
“I can’t believe that.” Padme acts well considering what I have told her. Her senator instincts must be kicking in.
“..Master Windu..” it’s getting hard for me to hear as the vents start to rumble slightly at the cooling system turning on. “assassinate the chancellor…”
No. I felt it in the force right before I cut it off. Master Windu had died and somehow Anakin was a part of it. 
“My loyalties lie with the chancellor.” Well damn be the republic now. 
“With the senate and with you.” He finishes. Maybe Padme is Anakin's only hope out of this. 
“What about Obi-wan? Y/n?” She mentions me as the system starts to fade out. I can hear them better now. 
“I don’t know. Many Jedi have been killed.” You can hear no remorse or sadness or any sort of pain in his voice. He barely spares a word for Obi-wan. His teacher. His friend. His brother. 
I pick up on their conversation and hear Anakin mention his mission from the chancellor. I must warn Obi-wan now. 
I climb out of the vents back to the bathroom and make my way down onto the counter and soon out of the room. Padme can be seen clearly in distress. 
“He said wait for me.” She tells me. 
“I know. Padme you can not let him know what you know. You’re pregnant as well and should rest. Don’t need the stress to kill you.” I joke with her giving her a small smile. She nods and heads to her room to sleep. I know she won’t sleep well without Anakin or knowing he is safe, but at least she is resting. 
I meditate on the floor in front of the large expanse of the window. I fill my body with its spirit and energy course my veins. My force has returned. 
‘DOVE! Y/N!’ I hear through the force immediately it almost makes me physically falter. 
‘Obi!’ I yell back trying to trace him through the force. Finally we collided and our energies reach out hand in hand to one another. I can feel him reach relief as he connects with me. 
‘You’re shaken. What’s wrong? Why couldn’t I sense you? I thought I lost you. Are you okay?’ 
‘Obi calm down. I’m safe. Anakin was just here to see Padme I had to hide myself from the force so he wouldn’t detect me.’ 
‘Oh thank the stars, I-I thought-‘ I can feel him sigh. ‘Please warn me before you do that. I thought you were gone.’ 
‘I’m sorry.’ I try to ease by reaching out with feelings of calmness and serenity as focus on regaining my power with the force. 
‘I-‘ We both start and Obi speaks up again. 
‘You first.’ 
‘Anakin he is different.’ 
‘Master yoda and I have just discussed Anakin. He’s changed hasn’t he?’ I feel Obi Wan falter in his feelings. It’s an ache in his heart and he’s in pain and conflicted but it’s controlled. He was always good at controlling his feelings. It’s what made him the best. I admire him for it. How he is able to do what I can not most days. 
I have to tempt my feelings for Obi Wan down quickly. I can’t let him know. Never. We’re in a war. We are Jedi. And our friend needs our help. 
‘Yes, but I feel there is hope for him yet. He is strong with the force. He’ll make the right decision.” I pray my words will ring with truth. 
‘I know.’
‘Obi-‘’ 
‘I’m coming back to Coruscant. We have to figure out how to decode the clones.’
‘We?’ 
‘Yes, you’re the best at decoding well anything really. We could use your help.’
‘Then I will help you anyway I can. May the force be you, Obi-wan.’ 
Later that night Padme had received word that a senate meeting was to be held in the morning. Perfect. I can meet Obi Wan then as she is in the meeting. 
The next day, I received word that Obi was landing on Coruscant at the Jedi temple in an hour. I make my leave from Padme giving her a hug and telling her to keep her blaster on her just in case. I told her I was going to make myself scarce and left quietly and quickly from the Senate building to the Jedi temple. By the time I arrived I see Kenobi and Yoda have done the work of taking out the clones. It’s a sad sight to see the army that was helping you fight the war was just propaganda to fight against you.
(Part 1/2) 
A/N: THIS all took up ten pages on google docs and so I had to make a part 2 lol
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eyayah-oya · 3 years
Note
For the writing bingo: Madame Nu as a dragon. The Archives is her hoard, which she lets people borrow from but if they mistreat it she will roast them. Five extra points if she lights Dooku's pants on fire for deleting the records of Kamino. 100 extra points if you work in the Bookwyrm pun XD --Papook
200 Follower Bingo Prompt: Dragons Rating: G No Pairings Ao3 link
Fiery Wrath
A great, trembling roar shook the entire city down to its very foundations deep on the surface of the planet. Far deeper than most living beings had ever dared venture. Glass shattered and rained down, sparkling like tiny gems as the shards fell onto the panicking crowds below. People raced to find cover, desperate to get away from that horrible noise. The people of Coruscant would not soon forget the destruction caused by the Zillo Beast before it had been killed.
Every Jedi on Coruscant shivered with unease. They knew that sound and had heard it hundreds of times from the moment they were brought to the creche. Madame Jocasta Nu was terrifying in her wrath, especially towards anyone that messed with her hoard. The Archives held one of the biggest collections of knowledge in the known galaxy and was under the protection of a dragon far older than any of them could actually remember.
No Jedi could ever remember her wrath flaming and burning this hot before.
With all the panic, unease, and readiness from civilians, clone troopers, and Jedi alike, none compared to the petrifying terror of Count Dooku. Nothing the Sith Lord had ever done could come close to the fury of an angered dragon. Especially one as ferociously protective and dangerous as Madame Nu. He knew she knew he was on Coruscant—it was why he’d avoided the Core planets religiously since the war started. No one tampered with her archives. No one had ever dared. Not until Dooku erased the existence of Kamino completely.
She knew he was near.
Dooku knew he was doomed.
There would be no escape.
From the roof of the Jedi Temple, a beautiful and terrible dragon, glowing a pearly white with silver and hyperspace blue outlining each scale, took to the skies with barely a beat of her wings. She glided through the air towards the small transport rapidly ascending towards the Separatist battleship in orbit. It was their only hope, but one that was fading with every second.
“DOOOKUU!!” the dragon roared and the transparisteel in the front viewport rattled and cracked.
It was too late.
The ship went down in a smoky haze, Chancellor Palpatine and General Grievous shrieking in fear and outrage as the dragon batted them out of the air and back towards the Senate Building. Dooku strapped into a chair calmly and awaited the death in store for him as flame and smoke licked the edges of his cloak.
At least, if he was going to die, it would be at the hands of Jocasta Nu and not Darth Sidious or his future apprentice.
“—and that’s when I smelled Sith Magic on the Chancellor,” Jo finished and calmly took a sip of her tea.
“But . . . why did you eat him?” Mace asked, rubbing his temples. He’d been run ragged ever since Palpatine had been revealed to be the Sith Lord and orchestrated all of the problems within the Senate, the war, and the downfall of the Jedi. At least people weren’t demanding Jo’s head. Yet.
“I beg your pardon, Master Windu,” Jo sniffed. “I did not eat him. I simply bit off his head and spat it at Grievous. That was enough to finish off both of them, no eating required.”
Master Mundi turns a judgmental eye towards her. “And Dooku?” he asked.
Jo sat primly, the proper, stern Master Archivist as she was, and simply said, “He knew the consequences.”
A shudder raced through the rest of her audience in the refectory. Jo sipped her tea. She blinked slowly and dared anyone to comment on her methods.
Mace sighed. Jo allowed herself a feral grin, baring her sharp teeth, triumphant.
“In that case, if you will all excuse me, I need to get back to the Archives. I have a few things I would like to research and some Sith artifacts to properly store.”
Several Masters groaned despairingly and Jo’s grin sharpened.
“You are a menace,” Mace said as he dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know whether I should preemptively veto any requests to venture out to Sith Temples with your squad or just give you free rein and start working on the paperwork.”
“At least you don’t need to personally deal with the Sith Artifacts and Temples,” Obi-Wan pointed out helpfully. He was now the favorite. “Jo will handle all of that for you.”
“And find dozens more things for me to worry about,” Mace said. “Go on. Go play with your new toys, you Bookwyrm,” he grumbled, though anyone with any kind of observational skills could see and hear the fondness within Mace.
Jo glided from the refectory, radiating smug satisfaction and a greater sense of peace. The war was over—the Jedi would not be required to fight and die for a Republic that did not care for them and the clones would not be killed by the thousands. And if the galaxy was rid of a couple Sith Lords, then no one would really complain.
Besides, she had five eager boys waiting to hear her side of the story and who would thoroughly enjoy cataloging the Sith Artifacts and go on adventures with her. She was a Librarian. It was time to get back to her greatest passion: gathering knowledge and sharing it with the galaxy.
(Bingo card under the cut))
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[Image ID: Bingo Card. Row 1: Platonic/QPR, Overwhelm, Omegaverse, Mer AU, Sleepy Cuddles. Row 2: Celebrations, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Scars, Tattoos, Exhaustion/Insomnia. Row 3: Competency Kink TM, Reunion, Free, Self-Sacrifice, Friends to Lovers. Row 4: Pirates, Animal Transformation, Enemies to Lovers, Cadets, No Order 66. Row 5: Major Character Death, Meet Cute, Post Order 66, Force Artifact, Dragons. Dragons square has a pink squiggle crossing it off. End ID]
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