#Jedi Get Hitched AU

[jessicas-pi]

📓📓📓

So originally I was gonna do 3, but this one got REALLY long, sooo....

May I present the Jedi Get Hitched AU?

I posted about it once before here (and it got FANART!!!!) but other than that I haven't said much of anything else, soooo... here's more! and it's ENORMOUSLY self-indulgent.

The basic premise of the AU is that the clone wars end happily except the clones don't have rights but the Jedi find a loophole that will make them recognized as sentient citizens if one of them marries a Jedi, cue Aayla kicking open the door to the jedi council with bly in tow like I VOLUNTEER

ANYWAY. bly and aayla get married (they both freak out about it and Fox and Quinlan respectively have to give them pep talks before the wedding.) All seems well... and then Anakin saunters into the Jedi Council room one day and brings up that now that they're getting married (it was a one time thing, skywalker--) NOW THAT THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED, maybe they should consider that perhaps it would lower political tensions if a Jedi married, like, a senator or a planetary ruler or something. and the council is all like 🙄 skywalker we know this is just about you and senator amidala and he's like what??? haha no, i was talking about obi-wan and duchess satine. but while we're on the topic, i could definitely marry senator amidala too. she just adopted those twins and i could help raise them. they're force-sensitive, what a crazy coincidence amiright?? and plo and shaak are just lowkey planning their wedding and subsequent adoption of All Their Sons and mace. mace wants a break. please.

fast forward in time. Several more jedi have gotten married. Mace has retired from the council, citing "an excess of tomfoolery and nuptials" as his reason. Anakin married Padme, Obi-Wan married Satine and they officially adopted Korkie as their son, and Quinlan Vos and Asajj Ventress got married. Vostress is also currently running a jedi-nightsister exchange student program...

...which is how Merrin, 16 and slightly awkward but eager to learn more, ends up in the Jedi Temple, with a few other Nightsisters, though they're all a few years younger than her. Cal is assigned to give them the tour.

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple!" he says, holding one hand out to her and the other hand waving around them, indicating basically the whole jedi temple. it's supposed to be just a gesture, but then Merrin puts her hand in his. Completely seriously. Cal is like "...okay" and they hold hands for the rest of the tour.

Five years later, there is a second jedi-nightsister wedding.

Jocasta is delighted at the number of records being set within her lifetime.

(Jocasta is also officiating all the weddings, btw.)

A couple years after Mace resigns from the council, he decides to plan a shatterpoint lineage family vacation. So Mace, Depa, Grey (who is an unofficial part of their family), Caleb, and Caleb's brand-new Padawan, 11-year-old Ezra (who is pretty young to be a padawan, but he was following caleb around all the time anyway so caleb figured he might as well just make the apprenticeship official), all pack up... and go to Ryloth.

Caleb, who twenty-five at this point, promptly gets his first crush.

Mace Regrets This Vacation. He's actually started seeing marriage Shatterpoints. Depa and Grey, meanwhile, think it's really really funny that Caleb gets flustered around Hera, and Ezra has made more than a few insinuations about political alliances via marriage. Depa warns him that Caleb will get his revenge, but Ezra dismisses it. (Said revenge does come about, several years later, in the form of Caleb asking if Madame Nu needs to prepare to officiate the second Jedi-Mandalorian marriage in recorded history. Ezra kicks him in the shin. smh padawans these days just have NO respect for their masters.)

Ezra highly encourages Caleb to marry Hera.

It does not take much convincing.

#Thank you for the ask!! #Jedi Get Hitched AU #blyla #anidala #obitine #vostress #merrical #kanera #and kinda minor lowkey #sabezra #jessica's writing nonsense

[kanerallels]

For the three sentence (or paragraph) fic challenge: Kanera but the AU is Hera was the jedi, not Kanan.

This, uh. This got longer than I expected, so it's going under a cut!

He’d thought the Jedi were gone, all killed when he was a teenager. He’d seen the wanted posters for the survivors, the warnings that they couldn’t be trusted, the propaganda— not that he’d ever really believed it.

And he’d watched them all dwindle, until there was no one left. It was just the Empire, ruling over them all.

But then, Kanan had come to Gorse. And he’d met the most incredible woman in the galaxy— beautiful, smart, an amazing pilot, and brave.

Finding out that Hera Syndulla was a Jedi wasn’t really a shock. He was certainly surprised, but it made so much more sense— the way she’d managed to pull off some of the tricks, flying and otherwise, that she had. The way she’d stared at him when he’d offered to help her, like she could see through him, before accepting his help. The fact that she was still traveling alone.

Even now, after dropping off  Zaluna, she was getting ready to politely but firmly send him on his way. He could tell. Kanan still couldn’t tell why exactly she’d let him help in the first place, but he knew she was usually a solo act in her fight.

As they made it to the hangar where her ship was waiting behind closed doors, Hera turned to him, her expression more hesitant than he’d expected.

“Wait,” he blurted out, and she lifted a curious eyebrow at him.

Kanan could have said anything. He could have told her that, ever since he first met her in that alleyway, he’d known he would never meet someone who called to him like she did. He could say that when she’d saved his life on the Star Destroyer, she’d practically glowed. She’d looked at home in the pilot’s seat, and using the Force, she looked like she had a purpose.

He could have told her that, when he was very young, his parents had died, killed by the Black Sun when they tried to fight back against them. He and his younger sister had changed their names and fled, living in fear for years. The Black Sun had never come after them, but it had been a long time before they’d felt at ease again.

He could have told her that the Jedi had saved his planet as a kid, or that he’d never liked the Empire, especially once his sister Devorah had enlisted when she turned 18, or that he’d never been one for a cause until now.

But all he found himself saying was, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Hera’s eyes widened in surprise for just a moment before she frowned. “And what makes you think I need help?” she asked, but Kanan could tell she was mostly teasing, with a hint of curiosity.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re incredibly good at what you do,” Kanan told her, deciding honesty was the best policy. “I almost believe you could do it all on your own. But that’s the thing— none of us can. We all need someone to watch our backs and take care of us. To help pick us back up.”

“And you want to be that someone?” Hera asked. “You know, it’s not exactly a sought after position. Not with— with who I am.”

He didn’t miss the slight hitch in her voice, the loneliness. Kanan understood it. “I do. For you, at least. And I’m willing to take the risk if you’re willing to have me around for a little while longer.”

Hera nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. Kanan could tell she was considering it, but not what she would choose. “It won’t be safe,” she said quietly. “I’m not safe to be around, not really.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Kanan said, “Considering the last few days, do you really think safety is my biggest priority?” Not my own, anyways.

That made her laugh, which had been his goal. “Okay,” she agreed. “But if things go wrong, I have the right to throw you out.”

“Absolutely. It’s your ship, after all, Captain.” But Kanan had a feeling things wouldn’t go wrong. He had a feeling he would stay with Hera for as long as he possibly could.

Call it a good guess, or fate, or maybe even the Force. Who knew? All Kanan was really sure of was that he wasn’t planning to leave Hera. Not if he could help it.

#thanks for the ask!! #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jedi!hera #kanera #kanera is love kanera is life #the thing is i cannot imagine anyone but hera being the pilot #so we have hera the incredible jedi pilot #and then we have kanan. who is just some guy. but he wants to take care of hera if he can #and he's also a gunslinger and amazing at making waffles and adopting kids #star wars rebels #swr #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[secretsolarsystem]

“ well, if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “ 🙏👀

(from this prompt list)

ANON I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭😭 this prompt is SO GOOD and 100% of the credit for this goes to @tomicaleto​, who helped me and came up with the concept! thank you tomi!!! <3

please enjoy this first kiss, post-war + no-one-dies + everyone’s-happy au!!! (1.9k words)

---

If anyone, even the Force itself, had told Obi-Wan that the end of the war was going to consist of Jedi being sent to party after party, he would have laughed in their face – yes, he would have laughed in the face of the Force itself.

But he would have looked like even more of a fool, because they would have been right. Yes, they were preceded by endless, grueling peace negotiations between Republic loyalists and Separatists who, while admitting they had been deceived by Sidious’ manipulations, still wanted some of the things they had fought for.

(Obi-Wan didn’t hold it against them. The Jedi and Republic had been just as manipulated by Palpatine. He deceived everyone; no one was guilty because no one was innocent anymore.)

Even though the war had made Obi-Wan chronically exhausted down to his bones, he wouldn’t miss a single party if he could help it. It was a blessing, he felt, to be able to witness the galaxy mending itself with each smile shared, each offer to dance accepted, each glass raised in a toast to peace, to today, to tomorrow.

Plus, he got sent to a lot of these parties with Anakin. And getting to see Anakin smile and dance and laugh and drink until he was a blushing mess, was something he’d never be able to turn down.

Ever since he had taken Anakin on as his padawan, Obi-Wan knew he’d do anything to keep the boy happy. Growing up, Anakin did not make that easy for him, to be sure, but the war made it even harder. What was Obi-Wan to do? Each time he catalogued a new scar on Anakin, or caught through their comms the hitch in his voice when he talked about how quickly Ahsoka was having to grow up, or noticed the clench in his jaw holding back his tears and his rage as he recounted yet another man lost – Obi-Wan was helpless to do little else but give a sympathetic nod, an “I’m sorry, Anakin,” perhaps a comforting hand on the shoulder, if he was so lucky to be near Anakin.

It was this enduring, perpetual need to keep Anakin Skywalker happy that make Obi-Wan notice the way the man’s eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed into a tight, straight line when one of the party-goers insisted they begin a game of spin-the-bottle.

“Come, master Jedi!” they had said jovially, beckoning Obi-Wan and Anakin over to the circle they were forming on the floor of the ballroom. It lifted Obi-Wan’s spirits not only to see people who had once been killing one another gather happily, but also to see grown diplomats giddily sit in the middle of an ornate room in extravagant outfits with their legs crossed to play a game for children.

Glancing once more at Anakin’s expression plainly showing his discomfort, Obi-Wan turned to the group with an apologetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we must abstain from this particular festivity.”

“Oh, come on!” someone from the circle protested. “Jedi are allowed to have some fun, especially during peacetime!” 

Shaking his head with faux-remorse, Obi-Wan held up his hands as if to say, There’s nothing I can do, try as I might. “Our Code discourages us from participating in such activities. I’m sure you understand.” He could feel Anakin looking at him, could tell without looking that the man wore a confused expression, and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. I’m doing this for you, he wanted to say, Do not make it so obvious that I’m lying.

Because of course Jedi could play kissing games. As long as they did not allow it or anything that followed develop into any form of attachment, Jedi could play kissing games as much as they pleased. But Anakin clearly did not want to play, so they wouldn’t.

“Oh fine,” someone else said with a pout. Obi-Wan and Anakin were quickly forgotten, though, when more drinks were brought out and the bottle began spinning.

Turning to Anakin, Obi-Wan gestured to the door leading to the balcony, thinking Anakin might need some fresh air. Closing the door behind him, Obi-Wan took the few steps to join Anakin in leaning against the rail.

“Are you feeling alright?” Obi-Wan asked, watching the nightlife of the city below.

“Yeah,” Anakin sighed, and for once, it sounded like the truth. It made Obi-Wan’s heart constrict at the fact that Anakin had not been alright, none of them had, for so long – and now, for the most part, they were. “Thank you, for that,” he added, gesturing inside.

“Of course. It was clear you did not want to play,” Obi-Wan said immediately.

“Did you?” Anakin asked quietly, and again, Obi-Wan felt his eyes on the side of his face.

“No, I’m far too old for such games,” he responded, throwing Anakin an easy smile. 

Snorting, Anakin asked, “Is that what all that ‘the Code discourages us’ bantha-fodder was about?”

A bark of laughter escaped Obi-Wan, and he shrugged at Anakin. “Sometimes using the Code is an easier out that saying ‘I don’t want to,’ especially when the people you’re talking to are hammered and horny.”

“Master!” Anakin choked through his laughter, balking at Obi-Wan’s words. Obi-Wan tried not to be so blunt around his former padawan, but it was a party and it was peacetime and Obi-Wan liked the new, easy air their relationship had.

“Well, it’s true,” Obi-Wan maintained, smiling at Anakin’s laughter. It really was so nice to see him genuinely happy; Obi-Wan would never tire of it. He was beautiful always, but especially so when he was laughing, his laugh lines pronounced and blue eyes gleaming. “I’m sure you remember from your young padawan days.”

At this, Anakin’s smile faltered and he pursed his lips again, looking down at the city with a blush. He seemed embarrassed now, and it made Obi-Wan frown. Perhaps he took it too far, perhaps their master-padawan dynamic lingered and Anakin didn’t want him alluding to Anakin kissing fellow padawans, especially if Anakin thought it was a secret he had gotten away with for so many years. “I apologize,” Obi-Wan cringed, resisting the urge to rest his hand on Anakin’s arm just so he would look at him again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Anakin quickly assured him, looking back with sincerity – though his blush persisted. “I just- I’ve never…”

When Anakin didn’t finish his thought, Obi-Wan nodded knowingly. “Ah. Well, never playing kissing games is nothing to be embarrassed about. They’re really not as great as people make them out to be.”

“No, that’s not-” Anakin huffed, becoming frustrated. Obi-Wan was confused. “Well, yes I’ve never played a kissing game,” he corrected. Obi-Wan was very confused. “I meant that I’ve never…kissed.”

Obi-Wan was very, very confused. “I’m sorry?” he asked, sure he has heard him wrong. Anakin had kissed and been kissed, surely. He was a young man. He was a war general, the Hero With No Fear. He was a Jedi – the supposed Chosen One, no less. He was smart, he was capable, he was loyal, he was passionate, he was beautiful, he was strong. He was…Well, he was Anakin Skywalker. And Anakin Skywalker, in Obi-Wan’s humble opinion, was extremely kissable.

Anakin shrugged bashfully. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he said. While Obi-Wan was glad his auditory processing capabilities were indeed intact, he still simply could not comprehend this.

“Not even Padmé?” he blurted, too surprised to continue pretending he didn’t know of Anakin’s crush on the senator.

“Padmé?!” Anakin squeaked (and it was simply adorable). “We’re just friends, Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan blinked at him. “You’re really never- No one’s kissed you?”

“I have never kissed or been kissed by anyone, ever,” Anakin reiterated, now more determined to get Obi-Wan to just understand than frustrated or embarrassed.

“Why not?” Obi-Wan asked. There had to be an explanation. The war? He had a rare disease where if he kisses someone, he or the person he’s kissing will die? Everyone he’s ever wanted to kiss had that disease?

“Well,” Anakin drawled, seeming to consider his next words. Then, looking up at Obi-Wan with a new sort of determination, he said, “If anybody were to kiss me, I would want that person to be you.”

Again, Obi-Wan blinked at him. The rare kiss-of-death disease seemed more feasible to him than his young, beautiful former padawan ever wanting to kiss him, his old, tired former master. “Anakin,” he said softly, a question and a plea and everything else.

Biting his lip, Anakin looked to Obi-Wan’s mouth, shuffling closer. “I still do,” he confessed, looking back up into Obi-Wan’s eyes, hopeful.

How could Obi-Wan ever deny him? He wanted to keep him happy, after all. And maybe, just maybe, Obi-Wan could allow himself some happiness, too.

“Anakin,” he sighed again, though this time it was a confession of his own as he brought his hand up to cradle Anakin’s jaw and guide him closer. Before closing his eyes, he saw Anakin’s widen in what looked like shock, but the younger man easily and eagerly pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s.

It was immediately obvious that Anakin had been telling the truth. He seemed tentative, almost like if he moved Obi-Wan would disappear. But when Obi-Wan tightened his grip and moved even closer, Anakin sighed and tried to take the kiss deeper, all tongue and teeth and frustrated little whimpers. It was very endearing, but Obi-Wan didn’t think this was the time nor place for him to have saliva all over his beard.

Pulling away slightly, he smiled at Anakin’s disappointed whine, pressing a quick, placating kiss on his lips. “Be patient, Anakin,” he said softly, running his thumb along Anakin’s high, beautiful cheekbone. “We can take our time.”

It seemed Anakin felt like being honest tonight, because he confessed with a slight frown, “I’m sorry. I obviously don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to do it right, incase we never get to do this again.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan shook his head fondly. “I never thought we would get to do this at all. I would love to do this again – and again, and again, and again-”

Laughing around a weepy smile, Anakin brought his own hands up to cup Obi-Wan’s face. “You better,” he sniffed. “I need the practice.”

If anyone, even the Force itself, had told Obi-Wan he was going to go from teaching Anakin lightsaber forms to how to kiss, he’d laugh in their face. But again, he’d be proven wrong. “It is always my pleasure to help you learn and grow, dear one,” Obi-Wan smiled, leaning into Anakin’s hands.

“Oh, it’s your pleasure, is it?” Anakin wiggled his eyebrows, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s again, even while Obi-Wan laughed at his lame joke. Anakin allowed Obi-Wan to tilt their heads properly, let Obi-Wan deepen the kiss and let the heat between them build slowly.

“The Code discourages such activities, huh?” a voice suddenly said from the doorway to the balcony, making Anakin and Obi-Wan separate quickly and whip their heads to the source of the noise. The intruder did not seem offended nor angry at catching them in their lie; rather, they looked smug, amused even. “Don’t worry, master Jedi; I won’t tell your Council,” they said with a wink, heading back inside and closing the balcony doors behind them.

“Oh my stars,” Anakin groaned, dropping his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “That was terrible.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, bringing his hand to run through Anakin’s soft, golden curls. “Oh, dear one,” he sighed, thinking about how lucky he was the war had ended and left them both alive, here, in each other’s arms with Obi-Wan’s lips still tingling from their kiss. “There are far worse things.” 

#tomi literally saved my life w this y'all do not understand #what planet are they on? what city are they in? between who are they mediating negotiations? idk idk and idk #I just need the boys to Kiss ok ? #obikin #ask #prompt #my writing

[ikiracake]

Star Wars: Clone Wars AU idea that popped into my head and won’t leave. Maybe someday I’ll have the motivation to actually write a fic about it, but for now I’m just putting it out into the world:

What if, late enough into the war that the clones have all bonded pretty strongly with the Jedi, but not so late that they’re into Sidious’ endgame, the clones become aware of the chips in their heads, and what they could be forced to do. They catch onto Sidious’ plan to have them kill the Jedi, wiping them out in one fell swoop, and are naturally horrified. It’s bad enough that the war is slowly whittling down the Jedi’s numbers, no matter how hard the clones have been trying to keep them safe, but to know that they were meant as a trap? It’s almost unthinkable.

(Maybe Tup’s chip malfunctions earlier than in canon. Maybe early enough that it can be removed without killing him, before he actually harms anyone. This AU is already going to be self-indulgent enough, why not say that’s what happens, and that’s how they find out)

So the clones realize that Sidious is going to use them to kill their Jedi, and while getting the chips out of their heads is of course the ideal solution to this problem, they’re worried about tipping off Sidious that they’re onto them. They need to come up with another plan, some sort of distraction, something to buy them time.

That’s when it hits Cody that they can kill two birds with one stone. They can get Sidious off of their backs, while simultaneously getting the Jedi away from the war, with one single crazy plan; fake Order 66. They will act as if Order 66 somehow got activated early, and “kill” all of the Jedi, thus removing them from the war and Sidious’ plans. After this long into the war, the Jedi’s numbers have dropped to several thousand, which could probably all be safely sustained on a single suitable planet. Cody has some of his best scouts start searching for a planet for them to stash the Jedi safely away, and then starts planning Operation: Daybreak.

Planning is difficult. Somehow they have to fake the deaths of several thousand beings, simultaneously, without tipping off their plans to the Sith. The Jedi in the field are easy enough to figure out (i.e. how Order 66 initially went down), but the Jedi in the Temples, and away from the fighting are much more difficult. And there’s one further complication: they can’t actually warn the Jedi what they’re doing, as they need the Jedi’s reactions to be as realistic as possible to sell their plan. Several brothers object, but as Cody points out, at least the Jedi will still be alive to be mad at them after.

Despite these difficulties, their plan somehow goes off without a hitch. It’s an awful day, and the feelings of hurt, horror, and betrayal radiating off of every single Jedi is strong enough that it echoes throughout the galaxy, making Operation: Daybreak even more realistic. Getting the “bodies” off of Coruscant, along with anything of value that the clones are able to sneak out of the Temple, is genuinely the hardest part of the plan, and there’s a tense moment when the Chancellor demands that he go see what has happened at the Temple and try to provide “help” but somehow Fox manages to convince him to let the clones deal with the clean up. The Commander of the Coruscant Guard comes out of that meeting with the shakes and his blacks absolutely soaked with sweat from the stress, but he manages to avert disaster.

The next day, when the first Jedi start to wake up from being transported to their new haven, is almost as bad as Operation: Daybreak. They’re angry, understandably so, but when the clones explain what happened, why they did what they did, they find they can’t argue. The clones put so much on the line to enact this plan, to sabotage it now would be foolish. Despite this, many of the Jedi are left feeling wary of their men, upset with being hidden away when others are out there suffering.

But now the clones have time. Sidious is busy managing the Senate, who haven’t quite become anti-Jedi enough yet for them to be declared traitors without opposition. Sidious also doesn’t have the same level of power as he should have towards the end of the war, so he can’t just sweep the whole thing under the rug either. And while the clones ‘malfunctioning’ has put a target on their backs, the war hasn’t suddenly ended because the Jedi are gone, so the clones are still needed. They’re safe for now. Well, as safe as they can be in a war where suddenly all of their Generals are “dead” and the chain of command has kind of exploded.

It’s a messy couple of weeks post-Operation: Daybreak, which means no one notices every single clone going through a mandatory operation that leaves tiny white scars on the sides of their heads.

I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure where the AU could go from here. Obviously there’s the war that needs ending. Maybe now that they’re free of Senate influence, the Jedi are able to track down Grievous and Dooku, put an end to them, and then open negotiations with the Separatist leaders. Maybe with Sidious’ plans activating too early, the Senate turns on him and he’s actually ousted from power through completely legal means.

(He’d still go all Sith-crazy and try to take control that way, though, that goes without saying. Fox sees it coming, though. He can be the one to shoot Palpatine and save the day, as a treat).

Either way, peace is restored to the galaxy, and the Jedi are safe and free to decide if they want to return to the Republic that was using them and abusing them, or if they’d like to start fresh. And maybe, after seeing what the clones were willing to do to protect them, after coming to terms with what could have happen, a tentative trust begins to develop between clones and Jedi again. It’s not perfect, the whole galaxy has a lot of healing and repairing to do, but now they have the time to do it.

And that’s all I’ve got. Ta-da!

#star wars #Clone Wars #star wars: the clone wars #Star Wars AU #sw: the clone wars #IDEK man it was in my head and now it's out there and that's cool #This is a happy AU btw I know there's plenty of angst potential but endgame is happy times for everyone

[clownforce99]

umm so is there an au where fives goes to freja's house first during. You know.

YES I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME!!! it's an 'order 66 fails' au because i can only take so much pain

long story short, freja marches his ass straight to vokara che. forget phoning the council first - there's grody access tunnels that nobody really patrols and freja's living close enough to the exit of one that they're able to safely enter the temple without being seen. (freja knows about the tunnels because she used to brood in them as a kid. once a street rat always a street rat)

she asks him to go over what happened again as they enter the tunnel, partially to keep tabs on his state of consciousness and partially because once they're on temple grounds the psychic press of coruscant eases enough for freja to feel - with horrific clarity - that fives is telling the truth. or thinks he is, at any rate, and drugged out of his mind or not he's still a shit liar and he's got a surgical incision on his head and TWO gross biopsied bits of brain tissue and tup is--

tup is dead. he's killed a jedi and he's dead. fives is carrying a piece of his brain.

perhaps walking into the only place on the planet where freja can feel her own emotions on the tail of that revelation isn't tactically sound, but if fives notices the hitch in her stride, or how her hands begin to tremble, he says nothing. he's not faring any better at this point anyway.

the temple interior is too bright when she drags him inside, and the halls of healing are worse. they ask for master che but she's not obliged to materialize for everyone that comes through looking for her but fives visibly deteriorates in front of the attending medics and yadda yadda sorry i have a headache. i've done all i can.

vokara demands to speak with the manager, basically, and it all gets derailed from there.

#i am sad they didnt use vokara che more. maybe they didn't because she would have Stopped the Bullshit #freja: why are you bald? also please don't tell me yet another of my friends has died i'm actually kind of having a nice day thanks :)

[lajulie24]

For get to know your fic writer: 16 and 45

16. How many fic ideas are your nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Oh, yeah, hard to keep count on that one. I have about three multichapter WIPs going (not counting another AU I started writing with a friend and have been thinking about revisiting), so I have lots of ideas about those, plus a couple of smut ideas kind of in progress but not quite done, and then anywhere from six to ten other ideas that are in various stages of formation and may or may not become WIPs at some point.

One idea that I haven’t done much with yet but occasionally toy with is a sort of alternate post-ROTJ scenario for Leia and Han (and Luke, who also figures heavily into the story). Han and Leia are definitely together, the Empire’s been fully defeated (there will always be issues because it’s a big galaxy, but the major warlords and remnants have been taken care of), and the New Republic is transitioning from a war and a provisional government to the business of governing. Leia’s been in the middle of that transition and has helped them get set up, but she’s…antsy. She realizes that she’s just not interested in being a politician or a diplomat in the traditional way, it’s just not her thing anymore after helping to lead an insurgent army and becoming the last Princess of a people of refugees essentially. There’s some angst around “am I not a good person / am I just made for the fight / where is my place in the galaxy” kind of thing, but basically with the help of Han (who is also antsy but would happily be a trophy husband or whatever Leia needs if that’s what she wants) and Luke (who is having his own issues trying to figure out how to translate “pass on what you have learned” into his own life) she and Han come up with a plan where they quit their NR jobs and essentially live out of the Falcon doing the things that the NR doesn’t yet have the infrastructure to do, or would require a lot of political will to pull off but the NR will take on if someone gets things started, or are things that might not be top priority for the NR but are top priority for Leia (like recovering Alderaanian artifacts, supporting refugees, freeing slaves, etc). And Luke is looped into all of this as well, which solves some issues for him (plus he finally gets Leia to agree to at least do some Jedi training) and means that the family sticks together. (They visit Chewie on Kashyyyk a lot, and sometimes he comes and joins them on some of their missions.) I imagine at some point Han and Leia officially get hitched and at some point they have some kids, but they have several homes around the galaxy (one on Corellia, a place they stay wherever the Alderaanians have settled, a place with Chewie’s family on Kashyyyk, and a place where the Jedi have gathered, in additional to the Falcon).

As you can see, no small ideas, right?

45. Do you want to break your readers’ heart or make them laugh?

Both. Often in the same fic, although not always. I think because even amid horrible circumstances sometimes you just have to laugh at life, and also because I’m writing characters who have endured a LOT, so sometimes even during the light fun times there’s a bit of sadness. I probably lean more towards wanting readers to laugh, and even when I have to temporarily break some hearts I want there to be hope and/or the possibility of happiness. I also think that’s a lot of what Star Wars is about, about finding the joy and love and friendship even while everything should feel absolutely lost. That joy and love and friendship is what they’re all fighting for, and it’s worth it.

Thank you kindly for the ask!

Get to know your fanfic writers asks

#ask lajulie #fic ideas #breaking hearts #making them laugh #writing #get to know your fic writer #fic writer asks #walkawaytallblogs #thank you for the ask! #hanleia #han solo #leia organa #Star Wars #han x leia #and luke! #luke skywalker

[space-blue]

For you @weirdlet from this ask game.

First here are my notes, edited a bit to fit :

Ramson Gimbsey is a Toydarian chef, extremely famous for being a fiery personality who runs several holoshows, including "Hells' Galley". He also happens to be a minor toydarian royal member. Like third cousin to the king or something. If you remember, Toydaria is a very early subject of dispute for The Clone Wars show.

So in this AU, Cad Bane is a Jedi master, training Meeyan as a padawan. He and Kenobi get assigned because the murder is gruesome and sparking a massive diplomatic accident (set early in the Clone Wars).

Ramson Gimbsey was hosting a show event cooking/party night on a small luxury spaceship, lots of big names present. It suddenly it came under attack. I was going to go for a highjacked ship combined with a slug thrown clear through the bulkhead, or whole atmosphere cycled out from the engineering department. At any rate everyone inside is dead and turned into space popscicles.

The Toydarians are still receiving threats from the sepies, so it's generally assumed this is what's going on and this was a direct threat from them, since many people from all over died. There is a lot of dissent within the republic.

SO Bane and Meeyan get sent because Bane is a good "criminal mind" guy, and Kenobi is a great negotiator. Detective and diplomat duo. They also think Meeyan needs to work with Kenobi because Bane is… lacking in the negotiation department, to put it mildly. As an added twist, Meeyan retains her obsession with food in this AU. She was a massive fan of Ramson, and was watching the show live when the attack happened.

Dooku sees the strife and drops a lot of unhelpful comments while admitting to nothing, but it's not the sepies. Bane focuses on the investigation and Obi focuses on the diplomacy. Meeyan would bounce between them as the plot unfolds

Now, I brainstormed the actual source of the thing, and was going to change it as I write, but my dumb ass pantser brain can't get motivated to write something plotted out, and here we are!

Turns out, the actual intended victim was one of the guests directly related to one of the Toydarian ministers. He was drafting huge deals about mining/driving resource on the toydarian moon, and handing that contract to a very big Neimoidian name. When the TCW debacle happened, Toydaria joined the republic and the gov froze the deal with the Neimoidian.

However, that Neimoidian had been buttering that minister and he wants his fucking contract now. As arguments escalated and he made threats, he was dismissed and ignored. So he hired a big time bounty hunter to do the job. It was meant to be a non-Force sensitive Quinlan Vos, who basically takes Cad Bane's place as morally bankrupt bounty hunter in this AU.

Vos decided the best way to make the murder "discreet" yet public was to kill everyone aboard. So now in the background the Neimoidian is like "tic toc, I know where you live", and the minister is desperately trying to make stuff fit for him, while wrestling the investigating Jedi. The call to have the Jedi involved doesn't come from him (either the King, or the Chancellor). When they arrive they can sense something is off with the minister somehow.

We'd have two villains : the mastermind/hidden one, profit driven, and the physical villain, who's good enough to take on Jedi and nasty enough to kill padawans.

I would have made Meeyan dual wield and Bane with a saber staff.

And here's an excerpt for you:

'Mace, before I go, I've got to ask… Is this assignment because of Meeyan?'

'Your padawan? No. She will benefit from learning with Obi-Wan, but she isn't the reason you were selected. What makes you think that?'

'Do you not know? How do you not know?' Cad scoffed, incredulous. 'The child is one overexcited bake-off away from leaving the Order. She's a huge fan of Ramson Gimbsey.'

The news made Mace's eyebrows hitch up in suprise and promptly fall back down in concern. 'Was she watching the show?'

'Yes.'

'I see… That's why you were already well aware of the situation, I suppose?'

'You've got that right. Nothing to take you out of meditation like a padawan screaming their head off.'

Cad grimaced. He was jesting, but Meeyan's shock had been genuine, hitting him through the Force like a slap, and her dismay had lasted longer than would be considered proper. But then how often did you get to see your favourite star murdered live? He'd cut the kid some slack, but he still wasn't sure how she'd take this assignment.

#Cad Bane #Meeyan Bane #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Mace Windu #fanfic #wip #ask game #wip game #ask away #sw #star wars

[nellapaulina]

AU where Din and Luke got married years ago kinda on accident?

Luke found Din on tatooine and he had a head injury and in order for him to take off the helmet he had to get hitched, so they do and even though they never see each other again they keep their promise to each other.

Luke never kissed Leia or anything like that, and Din rejected any advances made on him (poor omera didn't know he was a married man)

So they keep it to themselves until Luke comes to save them on the cruiser.

And it's awkward as hell

"Kid?"

"Mando?"

And they just stare at each other until Cara interrupts them, only to laugh at Din bc only he could be married to the last jedi and rebellion hero without knowing.

#dinluke #the mandalorian #star wars #din djaren #luke skywalker #din djarin #fuck it this is now a dinluke blog #headcanon #AU

[beckyh2112]

Palpatine has plans <3 and wants <3 <3

Previously in this AU...

---

Cody leaned on Obi-Wan's door-chime. It was rude, he knew it was rude, but he needed answers Bly couldn't or wouldn't give him.

Fox was supposed to have been safe on Coruscant. Miserable, because he didn't get to use his skills the way Cody did, but safe. Someone he could trust would survive the war even if no one else did.

Not someone who had been the Sith Master's "favorite". Not someone who had been through torture and worse, and who had lied to Cody's face about everything being fine.

Who Cody had let lie to him, because he hadn't wanted to hear Fox whining about his cushy Coruscant posting.

Ponds, Rex, and Waxer would all have told him that beating himself up wouldn't help anyone, with varying degrees of niceness. There was a reason he hadn't been talking privately to any of them about this.

The door slid open. "Come in, Cody."

He stalked in, assessed Obi-Wan at a glance. Normal amount of sleep deprivation, more stress than usual, probably because of Skywalker.

"You said I could come to you with any questions I had about the Force."

Obi-Wan brightened. He wanted the clones to show an interest in the Force so badly sometimes. "Yes, of course! What do you want to know?"

"Force-suppression. How does it work?"

"Ah. There are several different methods, but if this is about- Palpatine?" Cody noted the little hitch; his Jedi general was still very angry on Anakin's behalf. At his nod, Obi-Wan continued, "The cuffs provided by the Jedi Order are made of beskar, which naturally dampens the Force. There are techniques used in their forging that enhance that dampening beyond what even the purest beskar is naturally capable of. I'm afraid I've never researched what exactly is done..."

Cody frowned. "So they're just beskar?"

"No, no." Obi-Wan shook his head and reached for a data-pad. "Sheev Palpatine is human, so the cuffs used on him would include several disruptors that make it difficult for humans and near-humans to access the Force."

"Dampen, make it difficult- None of that is actually cutting someone off from the Force entirely."

"The only way to do that is to kill the person in question, I'm afraid. Even ysalamiri can't entirely cut someone off from the Force. But it would take power like Anakin's or a great deal of skill to use the Force despite being in suppression cuffs."

So you couldn't use them on Skywalker. Good to know. Cody couldn't keep the anger out of his voice when he asked, "Was it power or skill that let that monster steal Fox's mind?"

There was a long moment of silence. Then: "I'm sorry, Palpatine did what?"

"That's what Bly said the healers said."

"I see. It seems the Council has not been keeping me up-to-date. I'll have to speak to them about that." Obi-Wan sounded only mildly ruffled, but he rolled to his feet in one of those Jedi-graceful moves that settled him in a combat stance.

Cody gave a sharp nod, then tracked back to something Obi-Wan had said earlier. "What are ysalamiri?"

---

His owner was petting him. Fox chrred as he became aware of it, the hands on him as familiar as his own self. He'd never not known those hands or the presence of his owner.

"Our time grows short, pet. I can sense it."

Fox raised his head and yipped curiously.

"It's nothing I can do anything about, but it's an opportunity for you."

Fox cocked his head questioningly.

"You have a littermate, you know."

Fox's ears flicked. There was someone else like him? Someone else who belonged here with his owner?

A chuckle. "Such a sweet pet. Your littermate is like a wild padme. Less worth the time to tame than you. But you've been such a dear pet, and I don't want you to be lonely."

Padmes were a common flower native to Naboo. The garden varieties had been bred to be thornless. Only the wild ones still had them.

"When you find him, bring him to me."

#bexfic #fox^2 #the council hasn't told obi-wan #because one this isn't really something we want to trust to even secure comms #and two PATIENT PRIVACY #fox^2 au

[postapocalyptic-cryptic]

from the wip titles,,, "Babies,,,, Tiny,,,, (Bonus Alpha-17/Jon Antilles)" pls 👀

Rubbing my evil hands together so basically this is an AU that's been banging around in my head ever since I ran across the HC that Faie trained under Dred Priest (as I've said before, that's not mine, but is something I picked up from the "Soft Wars" open source AU on AO3 before it became clonec//st-based and am using with permission from the creator @/thefoundationproject). Anyways.

So if anyone isn't aware, in Legends, Priest ran a cadet fight club that was shut down after several cadets died. This AU is basically the Jedi find Kamino much earlier, when Faie and Neyo are ~5 standard, and put a stop to the whole awful everything. Priest is killed for his involvement in the fighting rings. Faie, Neyo, and a few other cadets are being transported back to Coruscant for evaluations and to testify about this shit. Faie wants to make sure everyone knows that he was a part of the fighting rings, too, bc that makes him Bad. Alpha (9-10 standard) would just like to find his kid.

Sample under the cut (cw canon-typical child abuse, implications of physical harm to children)

“Alright, kiddo, bedtime.” Alpha jostles Faie gently, pushing at his shoulder until he gets a small noise in response. Faie picks his head up from Alpha’s shoulder enough to blink blearily at him. His eyes are bloodshot and, though the small adhesive bandage obscures the cut, his left cheek is clearly more swollen than it had been that afternoon. “Hey,” Alpha says. He keeps his eyes on Faie and wills the Jedi not to speak up again. If he’s lucky, Faie won’t even wake up enough to remember being upset. “Bedtime.” 

Faie drops his head back onto Alpha’s shoulder and snuggles closer to his side. “Mmkay.” 

Alpha huffs, then gets an arm under Faie’s thighs and hitches him up onto his hip. As he stands, he makes eye contact with the Jedi medic. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t stand, just watches him. Alpha has years of practice keeping a blank face. The Jedi’s mouth twitches. 

With a bit of prompting, Faie wraps his legs around Alpha’s waist and his arms around his neck. The bulky temporary cast scratches at Alpha’s cheek. Alpha keeps a firm hold on Faie’s legs as he leaves the room. 

Neyo’s sitting up waiting for Alpha near the barracks doors. Alpha wants to say something about safer places to wait, maybe back in the bunks with the others, but as soon as he sees the look on Neyo’s face he swallows his words. 

“Is he…?” 

“He’s okay, ad’ika. He’s just sleeping.” 

Neyo’s bottom lip begins to tremble. “He said he was going to tell the Jedi that he did something bad.” 

Alpha extends a hand and waits for Neyo to take it before leading him back into the barracks. “He did,” Alpha says. “He did, but they’re not going to punish him. We’ll talk about it more in the morning. All you need to know right now is that everyone is safe, okay?” 

Neyo hops up on the bunk he’s apparently chosen for himself. It’s as big as Alpha’s bunk, bigger than anything the cadets have ever slept in. More blankets, too. Alpha crouches beside the bed. “Faie,” he murmurs. “Faie, time to get in bed.” 

“Huh?” Faie rubs his face against Alpha’s shoulder sleepily. “Neyo?” 

Alpha untangles Faie’s arms and legs from his neck and waist and tips him onto the bed.

#woogh #sorry about the little rant #ask to tag #for the mention of clonec//st #just wanted to mention that I don't follow that series now that it's changed but I picked that hc up literally a year and a half ago #anyways #ask tag #purgetrooperfox #wip snippet #faie #alpha-17 #neyo

[jessicas-pi]

crack AU idea:

The war is over. Sheevy is dead. Everything is perfect.

...except for the little bitty problem of how the clones don't have citizenship and aren't even recognized as sentient beings.

Jedi are scrambling to find a way to get the clones legal rights and finally realize that the easiest way is to just accept them into the Jedi order, which would grant automatic citizenship.

But you gotta be force-sensitive. Since they're all clones of Jango Fett, who was as force-sensitive as a rock, they don't qualify. (I love the idea of FS-clones but just not in this AU lol.)

Jocasta does some digging in the archives and discovers something interesting: an old old old law, SUPER old, that states that the spouse of any Jedi, and that spouse's immediate relatives, are automatically granted a place in the Jedi order, regardless of midichlorian levels. (Back when getting married was something Jedi did, they knew that that meant if the spouse & spouse's family was non-Jedi, they could be in danger/used as leverage against the Jedi, and this was a way to protect them.)

And clones definitely count as immediate relatives.

Chaos ensues.

I'm picturing a council meeting where half the Jedi just left to go find some Space Asprin because the whole fiasco is a headache and the rest of the people there are:

Depa, chatting with Shaak: I considered myself and Grey, but we've always been more like platonic partners. I know he sees Caleb as a son, but my feelings for him are familial and I know it's the same for him.

Shaak: I agree, some of the clones overheard me saying I would do it if it meant they'd be safe and their response was unanimously no no no you're like our mom

Plo, to no one in particular: Does it have to be a marriage? Could it be an adoption? asking for a friend.

Anakin, newly appointed to the council: wait so NOW we can get married??????

Obi-Wan: no Anakin, this is an extenuating circumstance, not a new rule

Anakin: we could make it a new rule

Plo, turning to Shaak: what if we got married, and then adopted all the clones?

Aayla, kicking the door open: I VOLUNTEER

...I have many more thoughts about this AU and will elaborate later.

#to be clear when we're being serious i do agree with the jedi no-marriage rule but this is a crack AU so all bets are off #crack AU #Jedi Get Hitched AU #depa billaba #shaak ti #plo koon #plo koon is a dad #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #aayla secura #blyla #blyla heck yeah #star wars #star wars tcw #star wars the clone wars

[notfivefives]

BTHB Pt. 2

The second fill for my @badthingshappenbingo card, requested by @ladylienda. Thank you so much for this request! I’ve wanted to write something like this since I had my heart torn out first watched The Clone Wars! (Also tagging @fivesarctrooper!) I couldn’t contain my love of this prompt in one chapter, so this is actually going to be three chapters, each with a different square filled!

Title: Have I Done No Hurt

Square Filled: Struggling Against The Caretaker

Characters: ARC Trooper Fives & Captain Rex

Word Count: 3,023

Summary: A Fives Lives AU that takes place right after the warehouse scene in 6.04. Rex and Anakin take Fives to the Jedi Temple for treatment, but all does not go smoothly. 

Chapter: 1/3

Warnings: Description of Injury, Loss of Autonomy/Forced Medical Treatment

Read below the cut, or on AO3.

My BTHB Card

The mad clone of Kaikielius. That’s what the Holonet had called him. Slaughtered his own unit in some paranoid delusion. Rex had never been sure if it was true, or if it was journalistic sensationalism.

Or an admonition for clones.

But, no. No, this wasn’t that. Fives wouldn’t just snap.

He just needs help.

“How’s he doing?” Skywalker asked from the front of the speeder they’d commandeered.

Rex pushed his thoughts away as suddenly and as harshly as it had latched onto him. He spared a glance frontward and saw worried eyes in the rearview mirror. He finished removing the last of the plastoid covering Fives’ arms and discarded it.

“He’s in bad shape, sir.” It felt like a confession rather than an assessment.

Rex’s hands were quick and unerring as they undid the cuirass’ clasps and buckles. The sole mark on the white plastoid was the barely-cooled blaster burn on the left side. And beneath that, the flesh the armor had failed to protect.

“Gonna take this off,” Rex told Fives.

“You don’ understand,” Fives said as he blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. The sound of his worn, doleful voice tugged at Rex, but he needed to get this done.

You’re right, Fives. I don’t understand. What in hells happened to you?

“Tell me later. Right now, just…just take it easy.” Fives’ scent reached him; it was far sharper than something simply born of exertion.

Quiet groans and little hitches in his breath were Fives’ only protestations as Rex maneuvered the cuirass away. (With distaste, he stowed the cuirass with the rest of the armor in the front passenger’s seat. It wasn’t Fives’ armor. It was blank and ineffectual. And wrong.) Some small part of Rex was grateful Fives remained otherwise quiet, especially with the way the general had bridled at his accusation against the chancellor. Fives listed toward the door and curled his arm around himself, obscuring his injury.

“Lie back. Let me see.”

Fives didn’t follow his instruction, but he lifted his eyes and tried to focus on Rex, and-

Fuck!

Fives’ pupils were blown.

Was it shock, or drugs, or something else? They were the same questions that had underscored the discussion of Tup’s breakdown, but Rex knew this was different. Somehow, this was different.

And what had become of Tup? If Fives wasn’t with him…

“Just lean back,” Rex coaxed. He kept his fear, worry, and inevitable grief well below the surface as he put a careful palm over the gray cog on Fives’ chest and eased him onto the backrest. Fives resisted, then relented with a wince.

“It’s okay,” Rex said. He was gentle as he set his fingers on Fives’ forearm. He was so, so gentle and it hurt that he had to be, when a good-natured clout would have been a welcome show of warmth and concern. Especially to Fives. “I just want to see.”

Please let me help you, Rex willed.

“‘Kay,” Fives murmured. He frowned as he stared at some fixed point in front of him, but he moved his arm at Rex’s light prodding.

Blackened skin was indistinguishable from wizened fabric; plastoid was stuck there, too. The wound seeped lazily, and as ugly and awful as it was, it was unremarkable compared to thousands of other wounds on thousands of other identical bodies. Completely survivable, and if it had the chance to heal, it would scar over. It was often the best a clone could hope for. The only unique thing about the burn was its infliction.

Fox doesn’t miss, Rex thought.

He didn’t indulge in his knee-jerk anger at Fox. He couldn’t. It evaporated almost as soon as it had flared, but another thought was there in its wake, one that left a cold feeling in Rex’s gut. Could he have done the same thing had their positions been reversed, and Rex had had to turn his own DC’s on Fives?

Skywalker settled them on a landing pad on the south side of the temple before Rex could delve more completely into that line of thought.

Fives leaned against Rex’s left side as they followed their general out of the still-dark Coruscant morning, and into the Halls of Healing, where they were surrounded by deep blues and warm creams, an environment to promote peace and healing. Fives’ head was bowed, but his eyes shifted from room to room as though he was trying to determine the angle from which he was going to be ambushed.

“You don’t know. You don’t know what they did to us,” Fives said. His voice was rushed and hoarse. Rex could hear something in him fraying. “It’s in our heads, Rex. It’s-”

Fives’ voice broke off in a yelp when one of his feet caught on the floor. Rex saw Skywalker turn on his heels and move to help, but Rex had him. Fives took a faltering step back the way they came.

“Easy, easy,” Rex said. His voice was soft, but his hold grew firmer. When Fives stilled and tensed, Rex feared he’d made a mistake, that Fives was going to round on him and take a swing. But he only turned and looked at Rex. His jaws were clenched and his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, begged him to understand.

“We’re almost there,” Rex told him as he drew closer and took all the weight Fives would let him bear. “We’re gonna get you some help.”

They continued down the nearly silent hallway, and when they turned a corner, they found themselves in Vokara Che’s presence.

“Master Che,” Skywalker said as he straightened. “We need your help.”

For a heartbeat, Rex thought she may turn them away, that the Jedis’ involvement was out of the question, that he’d be officially forced to take Fives into custody and turn him over to some horrific form of interrogation. But as her gaze swept over the three of them, there was no surprise or condemnation there. Just calm evaluation.

“This way,” she said, tilting her chin.

They followed her brisk footsteps to a treatment room two doors down from where they’d stood.

“I trust, General Skywalker,” Che said, “that the council is aware your man is here in the temple?”

Skywalker crossed his arms, and glanced at Fives and Rex before dropping his gaze.

“Not exactly.”

Che didn’t seem to take umbrage with that.

Hells, Rex realized, she probably expected it.

He’d met Master Che on several occasions, but it had only taken him moments to decide she had his respect.

She commed someone, then went about turning on monitors. Rex kept her in his periphery as he and Skywalker helped Fives onto the exam table. Once seated, Fives’ shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his eyes with shaking hands. The sheen of perspiration on his brow went undisturbed. Rex kept a hand on Fives’ shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was to help keep Fives grounded, or reassure himself that Fives was still with him.

“He’s been shot,” Rex said without taking his eyes off of Fives when Che came over. “And I think he’s been drugged.”

Che nodded, stepped around Rex and raised the top half of the medcot before she began taking a medscanner over Fives’ hunched form.

“What’s his name?”

“Fives,” Rex and Skywalker said in unison, both equally solemn.

Another nod.

“Fives, I’m Master Healer Che. You’re safe here. I want you to know that. I hope you can trust that.” The bright greens, reds and blues of the scanner’s readings leapt onto the monitors. Rex was unsure what most of it meant, but his own limited knowledge, and the tightness around Che’s eyes told him it wasn’t anything good. “I’d like to examine you, but I think it might be easier on you if you go ahead and lie back. And the captain can help you out of the remainder of your armor.”

“She’s gonna fix you up, Fives,” Rex said when he felt Fives’ muscles go rigid. He forced as much cool-headed certitude into his voice as he could and squeezed Fives’ shoulder. In truth, Rex was relieved to have a task to complete. While Che gathered and prepared what she needed, Rex went to work.

Fives allowed himself to be guided down and back, allowed his last vestiges of protection to be taken away. But for every clasp that was undone, and every piece removed, something frightened and pleading would surface through the haze in Fives’ deep amber eyes that made Rex wish he could pull him close and unmake everything that had happened since they’d set foot on Ringo Vinda.

“I’m here,” he said when he set the final piece of plastoid down with the rest. He put his hand over Fives’, whose fingers were digging into the padding beneath him. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

But what if that was a lie?

“I just…I...” Fives said as he tried to lift himself.

“Easy.”

Rex didn’t raise his voice; he pressed Fives back down as firmly as he had to, and as kindly as he could afford. Fives’ hands grabbed at his forearm, and Rex let him.

“I just wanted to do my duty,” His words came out desperate and breathy as his dilated eyes searched Rex’s steady expression. The absence of Fives’ dark curls made his eyes look bigger, more hunted. There were deep, dark circles beneath them, and, regardless of Fives’ ability to endure, Rex wondered when the last time was he’d slept or had something to eat.

“I know, Fives,” he managed. Rex took one of Fives’ hands from his vambrace and held it in his own, wanting so badly to soothe and comfort him. “I know, but you have to let us help you, yeah?”

Rex thought Fives was going to try to bolt, but he dampened his chapped lips, swallowed hard, and settled back. His hand tightened on Rex’s when Che took her place on the opposite side of the table, and a tall Mirialan entered the room. His blue eyes were as sharp and intelligent as Che’s, and his face boasted none of his people’s tattoos. His fingers stopped worrying at the pale gemstone around his neck when he introduced himself as Idan.

“They’re going to help,” Rex assured Fives, though that pervasive what if kept time with his heartbeat.

“Okay, Fives, we’re going to get you taken care of,” Che said once she’d imparted her orders to the newcomer. She explained herself before touching Fives in any way, and while Fives’ hand shook with how hard he was holding Rex’s, he let her go about her business. She shined a penlight in his eyes, one then the other, then swung the light back and forth between them. His pupils barely contracted, and Rex could see the miniscule wrinkling of Che’s nose. “Fives, the Captain said he thought you were drugged. Is that accurate?”

“Nala Se,” Fives said with a slow nod. Even through his disorientation, the underlying vitriol in his ragged tone was unmistakable. One of Che’s eyebrows lifted and she looked at Rex.

“The Kaminoan Chief Medical Scientist.” Rex’s voice sounded distant in his own ears as he unconsciously brushed a thumb over Fives’ knuckles. Was this a piece of the puzzle, or a thread in an elaborate, but unraveling delusion? The longnecks could have subjected Fives and Tup to any manner of mental or physical unpleasantness in the interest of discovering what had gone wrong with the weapons they’d bred. Rex felt a down his spine. For all their innovations and haughty indifference, they were merely arms dealers.

Fives’ words echoed in Rex’s mind.

You don’t know what they did to us.

“Any idea what you were given, or how much?” Che asked.

It’s in our heads.

Fives shook his head no and eyed Idan warily. Idan approached and offered Fives a quiet greeting before placing a pulse oximeter on his left middle finger. Fives shifted when Idan began to shear away the ruined body glove, but Rex saw him work to keep himself under some semblance of control.

“Excuse me,” Idan said to Rex when he required more space to work. No matter how polite and well meaning the Mirialan’s words were, something ferocious and unbidden rose up in Rex at the realization he was being asked to let go of Fives. He quelled the impulse in the span of several breaths, and whatever words had been on his tongue went unspoken.

He squeezed Fives’ hand before setting it down and stepping back. Fives’ head rolled to the side as he watched Rex; the tiny groan that escaped him nearly sent Rex rushing back. But this wasn’t the time. All Rex could give was a small nod and mirthless twitch of his lip.

“I’m right here,” he said, thinking too suddenly and too keenly about brothers he’d never been able to say that to. “Let them help.”

The upper half of the body glove - the part that wasn’t stuck to FIves’ side - came away, and Che pressed on with her examination and questioning. Fives answered as best he could, mostly with nods and single-word responses; he closed his eyes when he was able, and cringed as he tracked back through the murk in his mind.

“And the incision on your head?” Che asked as she looped a tourniquet behind Fives’ left arm above his elbow.

Fives’ eyes slid open again and the manic despair that had animated him in the warehouse edged its way back into his face and body. Rex didn’t miss the look all three of the Jedi exchanged; he hadn’t been privy to whatever collective vexation they’d felt, but he didn’t need the Force to tell him Fives was coming undone.

“Fives, I need you to be calm.”

The practiced, unflappable calm in Che’s voice was all sense and reason. No patronization. She stepped back and set the strip of blue rubber - It wasn’t dissimilar to her skin tone. -with the rest of the blood draw implements. With difficulty, Fives leaned up as he looked between Skywalker, Rex and the two healers, but his attention locked on the sharp things, the cylindrical things, Che had at her side.

Fives’ breaths turned short and sharp, and he shook his head.

Rex’s heart sank. A line had been tread over; it had become too much, and he didn’t think there was any going back.

“Gedaway,” Fives slurred as he lurched to his side. Idan caught him by a shoulder and a thigh with lightning-fast hands and tried to push him back down. “Don’ touch me!”

Rex was at Fives’ side again in two quick steps. When he pushed Fives’ shoulders down, Idan moved his grip and weight to Fives’ legs. Fives shoved and struck at Rex with uncoordinated, but determined limbs until Skywalker pinned his hands against the table.

“Woah, Fives,” he said. There was worry in Skywalker’s eyes, but there was lightness in his voice that only he could manage in the most dire situations. But beneath that, Rex could tell Skywalker knew. He knew this wasn’t Fives.

Fives bucked against them and let out a sound that wasn’t a moan, or a sob, or a snarl. Maybe it was all three, the result days steeped in adrenaline and fear.

“Fives! No, no, no.” Rex’s quiet words rattled out of him and he grunted with the surprising amount of force it took to keep Fives down. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay. Shhshhshh! Don’t fight us. Don’t fight.”

But this was Fives, and Rex knew he may as well have told him not to breathe. All their assuagements, all their soft platitudes, were met with straining muscle and frenzied, hysterical cries. Fives tried to kick and headbut and bite, but they held him fast. He flattened himself down, then tried arcing himself off the table with renewed urgency. The burn on his side was seeping worse. It had to have been agonizing as he wrenched and struggled, but Fives didn’t seem to notice. The man who had faced down his own execution, the brother whose courage was depthless, was fucking terrified.

“Steady,” Che said as she stepped closer and extended a hand toward Fives’ head.

“NOOOOO!” He howled and then gasped as he tried to pull away, his wide eyes searching for something, anything, that would save him. Tears fell. “No! Don’t! Don’t! NO! NO! NO!”

Che placed the tips of three fingers on his forehead.

“Sleep,” she said. It was a command and a suggestion, and everything else that was felt and not seen.

And Fives just…stopped. Stopped cold.

Rex’s hold on Fives softened and his gaze swung toward Che, who continued about her business as though there had been no interruption. Idan followed suit and Skywalker straightened Fives’ arms before stepping back.

“It’s perfectly safe, Captain,” she said. “Fives is asleep. You and the general are excused.”

“Sir?” Something thoughtless and harried that bordered on outrage wove its way into that single syllable.

“Unless you have information that will help us treat him, I’m asking you to leave us to our work.”

Che’s tone was understanding, but it made it clear she would not be moved from her decision.

They didn’t know anything more than they did when Kix had commed them. Yet, Rex’s feet refused to budge. He looked down at Fives’ unstirring form, knowing he couldn’t mend him, couldn’t reach him. He put his hand in Fives’ once again, and felt an ache swelling in his throat.

“Rex.”

Rex put his shoulders back and turned to look at Skywalker, whose hand was raised halfway to Rex’s vambrace. He hated the helplessness he knew his general would see on his face.

“You’ve done your job, Rex. Let them do theirs.”

Rex’s chin dipped toward his chest and he squeezed Fives’ hand before letting it go. Idan was fitting an oxygen mask over Fives’ nose and mouth, and Che was placing the tourniquet once again. Both were entirely focused on their patient.

Skywalker turned and walked out, and after one last look at Fives, Rex followed.

#bad things happen bingo #bthb #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #Struggling Against the Caretaker #ladylienda #tcw #Star Wars fanfiction #arc trooper fives #captain rex #Vokara che #anakin skywalker #just feeling a lot of feelings right now #give me all the fives lives post-warehouse scenes #rex compartmentalizes the hell out of everything #what has two thumbs and is not a medical professional? #this girl! #Nala Se sucks #anakin is a voice of reason for like two seconds!

[spectral-musette]

Hey! I hope you’re feeling better :) Could you do some older Obi Wan and Satine in an AU where they both live, The Emperor doesn’t get away with his craziness and we just have a happy Obitine living out the rest of their lives? :’)

Hey Anon, we all love some happiness AU now and then.<3 I wasn't sure if you meant fic or art, so I did a little bit of both? (And by "older" i wasn't sure if you meant like "transforming into Alec Guinness" older, but the ficlet (~1500 words) ended up set just a few years after the end of the war.)

. . . . .

“So early?”

The sun hadn’t yet risen above the jagged Coruscant skyline, and the pink morning light softly illuminated the room as the city lights began to wink off. Satine pushed her hair out of her face to better observe the lovely man sitting up next to her in her bed, bare-chested and lightly freckled, his own hair charmingly disarrayed as well.

He bent, kissing her temple, his beard soft against her cheek.

“I promised Cin I’d lead a saber workshop this morning.”

Satine rolled onto her back, reaching up to smooth his hair as he straightened. “Then I shan’t try to entice you to stay. Since you gave your word.”

“Your very existence entices me to stay,” he countered, smiling a little. “Always.”

“Oh, very nice. Early morning flattery.”

“Genuine,” he protested, making a show of looking wounded.

“Always?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow at him. “That’s a bit difficult to swallow in light of your 15 year absence from my company.”

“Believe me, I was very enticed,” he promised, kissing her again.

“You might have to convince me. But later, I suppose.” She heaved a sigh.

“I can probably get away in time for a late brunch,” he offered.

She shook her head slightly, pushing herself up reluctantly from her comfortable nest of pillows. “Padme wants me in a meeting at midday.”

“And the Chancellor must be obeyed.”

“Well. This one, anyway,” Satine said, with a twist of a wry smile. She meant no offense to Padme’s direct predecessor in the office, the Prince of Alderaan, but, even all these years later, they all still lived in the shadow of what Palpatine had nearly done to the Republic.

“I’ll see you this evening, then.” He pulled his undertunic on over his head, and Satine smoothed his hair again.

“I suppose, compared to 15 years, that’s not so long to wait.”

“It will feel like an eternity, I assure you.” He gathered her into his arms.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to be late. And what will you tell all those impressionable padawans if they ask what kept you?”

“They wouldn’t dare. My dear Satine, our relationship is the absolute worst kept secret in the Jedi Temple.”

“Worse than Padme and Anakin’s?”

“At this point, I think so. The arrival of the twins rather disqualified them from ‘secret’ status.”

“How is the new training system working out?”

“What, letting the Skywalkers go home with their father at the end of the day? It certainly hasn’t seemed to impede their progress compared to their peers. A few other families are trying it as well. A couple from Lothal just brought their son to us on a similar schedule and will be living on Coruscant for a few years at least.”

“I’m looking forward to learning about the process in great and personal detail when we are also no longer able to maintain the pretense of secrecy.”

He hitched up her chemise, resting a hand against the large scar below her sternum, pale even in comparison to her fair skin. If it hadn’t been for her long recovery from the damage to her spine, the Skywalker twins might already have a playmate. As it was, it was only about a year since she’d been healthy enough to consider trying to conceive.

“As am I,” he promised, his touch tender as he settled his hands on her waist and kissed her forehead.

“It does seem strange to watch the Jedi Order bend,” she pointed out when he picked up his outer tunic from the floor. She wasn’t above goading him a little, now and then.

He shook his head, taking it serenely, as usual. “We do change. It usually takes a bit more time, but with our ranks so thinned by the casualties of the war, relaxing the requirements for initiates only makes sense.”

“And ignoring the amorous exploits of Jedi Knights so that they make more initiates?” She ran her fingertips lightly over his face, leaving a lingering touch on his mouth.

“We more or less always did that.” He kissed her hand.

“I recall being a bit more discreet in the past.”

“That was for your sake, not mine,” he pointed out. “I might’ve had some official censure for being indiscreet, but I expect most of my cohorts were more likely to congratulate me on having the good fortune of catching your eye.”

“Well, the Mandalorians couldn’t deny that you’re handsome and a fine warrior, but, indeed, the situation would’ve been rather disagreeable at home if we’d been exposed, at the time,” she agreed.

“Do you miss it?” he asked softly.

“What, the ugly, hateful rhetoric and death threats from Mandalorian extremists?”

He shook his head. “Home. Sundari. Mandalore.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Bo is doing well, though. She’s wiser than she used to be. Sometimes I wonder if it shouldn’t have always been her on the throne.”

“She’s ruling what you rebuilt. Do you think there would’ve been anything left if it had always been her?”

“More flattery.”

“Also genuine.”

“I like that you think that, anyway,” she admitted. “Hadn’t you better go?” she asked, regretful.

“I could skip breakfast,” he offered, leaning in to kiss her neck.

“And go to teach while you’re hungry and cross? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she countered, giggling a little.

“I would not be cross,” he denied.

“Well, not at first. Anyway, I like that you suggested it, but you’d better not.”

“Actually,” he said, drawing back and giving her a twist of a smile. “There’s plenty of time. Workshop’s not till midmorning.”

“Then why all this pretense of getting dressed?” she demanded, indignant.

“One doesn’t like to assume. You might’ve wanted to go back to sleep.”

“My dear Obi-Wan, when have I ever preferred to go to back to sleep rather than…”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before he kissed her deeply.

. . . . .

(Evening...)

. . . . .

Satine wrapped her arms around his chest, nuzzling against him until he suddenly winced, breath hissing between his teeth.

“Old injury or new?” she asked, stepping back and looking him over critically.

“New. Nothing serious, I just think I overdid it at the saber workshop today.”

She circled him, running her hands over his shoulders.

“You’re all in knots,” she scolded. “Get your tunics off. Do you think you pulled something?”

He moved to oblige, flinching again. "I hope it's just a muscle cramp."

“Oh, let me.” She nudged his shoulder so that he turned to face her again, then ran her hands along the familiar lines of his tabard down to his waist, working at the fastening of his belt. “I don’t see why you didn’t go see the Healers.”

“It only just started to really trouble me.”

“Is that entirely honest?”

“You mean, I didn’t want to give some young upstart the satisfaction of saying he’d sent Master Kenobi to see the Healers? You think I’m that vain?” he asked, as she proceeded with divesting him of his tunics. He could afford a little vanity, she reflected, admiring the graceful lines of musculature of his lean form and leaning to plant a light kiss between his collar bones.

“I think you are… mindful of your reputation.” She couldn’t help smiling a little.

He snorted softly. “Perhaps I am … a little vain.”

“So who can I blame for this injury?”

“Me. Showing off,” he confessed. “I could’ve just held my ground, but I gave it a little flourish to make it a good show. I ought to have known I was getting too old for that sort of thing.”

“And did you win?”

“This time.”

“I understand that you enjoy teaching these workshops, but I don’t see why it has end up in an all out duel against opponents half your age.” She pulled him down to the bed with her, running her hands over his back carefully to gauge the sore spots.

“Is that meant to suggest that they have the unfair advantage or I do?” He rolled his shoulders under her touch as she started the massage.

“I’m sure both are true, in different ways.”

“Very diplomatic,” he assured her. “I suppose they want to test their mettle. I know I did, at their age.”

“And did you challenge the reigning swordmasters?”

“Certainly. And got soundly trounced for my trouble.”

“And now it is your duty to do the trouncing?"

“It is.”

“Can’t you leave it to Anakin?”

“Anakin does his share.”

“So who was it that almost beat you?”

“Young Dume. Depa’s apprentice.”

“Yes, I met him when he escorted Senator Syndulla’s daughter to the Chancellor’s office. He seemed like a sweet boy, I suppose I can forgive him.”

“Don’t be so quick to pardon. One of these days, he’ll win. Or Suduri will, or half a dozen others.”

“And then will you go see the Healers?”

“Why would I need to, when I can get such fine care here?”

She shook her head even as she smiled, leaning down to kiss the back of his neck.

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Obi Wan/Satine #obitine #Star Wars AU #Happiness AU #Star Wars art #my art #pencil sketches #I wrote a thing #the art is a bit repetitive bleh sorry I know I've drawn this before #and maybe better? #ah well #long post

[blackkatmagic]

Hi! Firstly thank you so much for the joy you’ve brought us with your rarepairs and rare characters:D If you’re still taking prompts may I ask if you would consider expanding on the Feral/Cody storyline from the Jaster/Maul arranged marriage AU? I was fluctuating between cry laughing at Maul’s reaction to Jaster and actually crying over his genuine worry at how Cody must be treating Feral. Thank you!

“Queen Miraj is going to betray you,” Feral says, and Cody practically jumps out of his own skin.

Instantly, Feral winces, taking a step back as Cody spins, and dips his head, bends forward. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Cody stares at him for a moment, then groans, dropping the pad he was clearly about to throw on his desk. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and there's a thread of humor to it that Feral used to miss, the first few weeks of their marriage.

Carefully, Feral takes a few steps forward, and when Cody doesn’t object, he pulls himself up onto the edge of the desk, leaning forward. “Sorry,” he says again. “I thought you’d heard me coming.”

“I never hear you coming,” Cody says, dry. “Start with that assumption.” His gaze flickers from Feral to the door, and he asks, “Can you put the privacy lock on?”

Feral raises a hand, a touch of concentration making the light click over to red, and pretends that Cody's flicker of deep interest isn't half the reason why he used the Force in the first place. Cody's warm sort of intrigue is always soft around the edges, kind, and—it feels good.

“I could wear a bell,” he suggests, smiling a little, and Cody snorts, leaning back in his chair as he considers Feral.

“Collars already?” he asks, bland, and when Feral huffs in embarrassment, glancing away, he smiles. Reaches out, hand curled over Feral’s knee, and it makes Feral entirely too aware of a bruise inches above his hand, left there by his mouth last night. Cody had made it clear he didn’t expect anything, that Feral wasn’t obligated, but—Cody is handsome, and Feral was lonely, and it was good. It felt good, and he likes this, this awareness of Cody that’s doubled and tripled in the hours since.

“If you want,” he says, and Cody slides a hand up his thigh, reaches up. The brush of his fingers over the base of Feral’s horns makes Feral shiver, and Cody's eyes are dark when he looks up at him.

“You took off the paint,” he says, thumb rubbing hypnotically across the curve of one of Feral’s larger horns.

“Bad for sneaking around,” Feral manages to say, though words are a little hard right now.

That makes Cody pause, and he looks Feral over again, then asks, “The queen?”

Feral tips his head in agreement. “I got into her palace,” he says. “Something about her prime minister made me uneasy. They're planning to sell you out to the Republic.”

Cody's lip curls. It’s almost a snarl, almost a Zabrak's expression. It’s almost Maul's expression, transposed and layered with a deeper sort of anger, and—Feral understands that. The life of a Nightbrother is one thing, but Cody and the rest of the clones have been fighting since they moment they came into existence. They were never supposed to exist, were created with stolen DNA by a Sith Lord who thought to play warmonger, and when they killed him they were left with nothing.

Leaning forward, unable to help himself, Feral kisses the snarl off Cody's mouth. Feels the twitch, the breath, and then Cody's hands come up to frame his face, pull him in and deepen it. Cody moans, soft, and Feral’s breath catches. He pushes in, gets his hands on the arms of Cody's chair and almost wants to slide forward, into his lap—

“Oh, kriff,” a voice says loudly, and Cody groans, just as loud and deeply aggrieved. Laughing, Feral breaks the kiss, pulling away and sitting up, and he’s just in time to see Rex slap a hand over his eyes. “Cody.”

“That door was locked,” Cody retorts, and catches Feral’s knees. Pulls, like making a statement, and Feral obligingly lets himself be hauled down, gets a knee on one side of Cody's thighs and sits down in his lap, pulling him in. Cody gladly kisses his jaw, then his throat, then drops his head to kiss the bruise on his collarbone, and says pointedly, “You're lucky you didn’t walk in five minutes later.”

“You're lucky I didn’t walk in five minutes later,” Rex says. “Don’t you have a bedroom? Don’t you think you should save that for later?”

“I think I'm married and you should keep your nose out of it,” Cody counters, and loops an arm around Feral’s lower back. Feral ducks his head, careful of his horns as he hides his smile in Cody's hair, and shivers at the feeling of callused fingers stroking up and down his spine. “And besides, this was a strategy meeting. Feral was just telling me about all the ways Queen Miraj is about to betray us.”

“Droid armies,” Feral says obediently, trying not to grin. “Admiral Trench has one of Dooku's droid armies and he and the queen are trying to arrange a trap for you. Miraj is worried you're going to sell her out to the Republic and reveal what she’s been doing.”

Rex's groan is all frustration. “That was not a strategy meeting, or I've been missing out on a lot—”

“You have been,” Cody says mercilessly. “How’s that bounty hunter you keep failing to catch? Antilles give you any good strategy meetings recently—”

“Shut your mouth, Cody, if the queen’s going to sell us out to Trench I think we’ve got bigger things to worry about—”

Cody snorts. “One more person out to get us when we’re already enemy number one to the Republic and rogue, immoral science experiments made from their heir apparent’s DNA to the Mandalorians. It’s not the end of the galaxy, Rex.”

Feral swallows, reaches up. He cups Cody's cheek, leans in. Doesn’t quite rest their foreheads together, even if he wants to, because it means a lot more to the clones than it does to a Zabrak. Even so, he kisses his temple, then says softly, “Mother Talzin might help you.”

Cody's grip tightens over his ribs. “She sold you into marriage,” he says flatly, and meets Feral’s gaze. “I heard your comm to her. About your brothers.”

Feral swallows, but doesn’t let himself waver. “And you accepted,” he reminds Cody gently. Sees the way he’s about to protest and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter why you did. But the alliance is there. The Nightsisters can help with the Zygerrians.”

“No,” Cody says flatly. “Talzin’s not getting anything from me. I already took the most valuable thing she created, and I'm not giving it back.”

Feral’s breath hitches, and he ducks his head, feels Cody's arms tighten to draw him in. The fact that Cody can just say that, so openly and obviously—

It’s why he keeps using what he was taught for the clones’ sake, even when Cody tells him he doesn’t need to. Cody might not realize it, but Feral’s been waiting his whole life to find someone outside of his brothers to fight for. Maul and Savage will be all right; Savage is with a Jedi who would never hurt him, and Jaster Mereel seems like an honorable man, even in the face of Maul's prickly edges. But Cody needs what Feral can offer, and it’s a new feeling, something like a revelation.

“Good,” Feral says, soft, and Cody's hand smooths up his back, then down. There's a kiss pressed to his temple, a hand against his lower back—

Rex groans, holding his hands up. “Kriff, if you're going to be mushy—”

Even with Feral on his lap, Cody manages to grab a stylus, chuck it across the room, and peg Rex between the eyes without even having a clear line of sight. “Get lost, Rex,” he says, and Feral can't help but laugh, tucked into the curve of Cody's neck, pressed to his skin like a secret.

[On AO3]

#my writing #codyferal #commander cody #feral opress #captain rex #star wars

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Hello lovely! So a friend and I have been talking about Frankie lately and how damn adorable it would be if he were his kids little league baseball coach. Like, he passes down his old mitt to them from high school days (even though it’s comically too big for them) because it gave him good luck, and of course all the guys would come to support them (possibly Benny or Santi even trying to hit on the single moms because of course they would LOL) could possibly be in the neighbor!frankie universe with Gabi in their future some time? We just thought you’d be perfect to write these random ideas into something beautiful. If you have time or even like the idea of course!! ❤️❤️❤️

I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the mechanic!frankie AU! I think it’s a great way for reader and Frankie to bond a little more!

A/N: You run into your favorite mechanic while out running errands.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

You wandered aimlessly down the aisle of the store, randomly grabbing a box of cereal to throw into your cart as you whistled along to the song playing in your ear. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone else’s cart. You quickly removed your earbuds to apologize.

“Oh! I am so- Frankie?!” It came out a little louder than you expected, making a few heads turn.

“I thought I was Frankie,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.” You looked at his cart. “You look like you’re picking up enough to feed a small army.”

“I kinda am.” He held his jacket open to show you his baseball jersey. “Got a game tonight and we’re gonna have a party after--win or lose. You’d be surprised how much those kids can eat.”

“Wait, are you telling me you coach little league?”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled proudly. “I used my own money to get the league started. I buy the uniforms and everything.”

“You didn’t tell me this last night.”

“Well, I was focused on other things,” he said and you giggled like a schoolgirl. “I had fun.”

“Me too and the food was delicious. Remember, next time I’m cooking for you,” you told him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“Oh, wow, trying to get me to cook for you already, huh?” you teased.

“No,” he chuckled, “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and watch the game. Cheer us on a little.”

“I’ll be there. Where is it?” you asked and he told you. “Coach Frankie...it fits you.”

“Thanks.” He stood there silently for a moment. “Why is it always so hard to say goodbye to you?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. How about this? We won’t say goodbye just...see you later.”

“Okay then. See you later.”

“See ya, Coach Frankie.” You winked and pushed your cart past him and he watched until you were out of sight.

It was a nice day out so you decided to walk. The game was already underway by the time you got there, and you didn’t know it but Frankie had been scanning the bleachers for you. This time when he looked up and spotted you, he beamed and waved then turned back to all the kids that surrounded him. Once he was done, he walked over to the fence and waved you down.

“You made it,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I walked,” you told him.

“No umbrella?” he asked then looked up at the sky. “It’s gonna rain, you know. Can’t you smell it?”

“The weatherman said nothing about rain today.”

“He could be wrong...” Someone called his name and he turned. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Don’t sit alone. My friends are up there.” He nodded to the group of guys sitting at the very top of the bleachers.

“Okay. Good luck, Coach.” You smiled and made your way up the bleachers.

“So you’re Frankie’s girl, huh?” one of the men asked. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Hi Benny. And I’ve met you, Santiago...right?” Santiago nodded and shook your hand.

“This is my brother William,” Benny said. You shook his hand too then sat down to watch the game. It made you smile to see Frankie enjoying himself, surrounded by children who obviously hung on every word he said. You didn’t hear him shout once aside from cheering for his team. At one point you got so into it that you stood up and cheered louder than anyone else. The guys snickered as you cleared your throat and sat back down.

They ended up winning the game and you all went down to congratulate them.

“What a win, Coach Frankie,” you said, giving him a high five.

“I think I might have had a good luck charm out there in the crowd,” he said and you looked down shyly. The guys came over and you stood back while they talked to him. Afterwards, Frankie reminded everyone of the little party he had put together in the park for them so you all walked over and enjoyed pizza and snacks with the team and their parents.

Frankie told you that you didn’t have to help clean but you wanted to. You weren’t exactly ready to say goodnight just yet. His friends said their goodbyes and his players all gave him a high five and a hug before leaving with their families.

When the last of the mess was thrown away, Frankie turned to you, lifting his cap to scratch at his head. “You mind if I walk you home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oops...almost forgot my umbrella.” He sprinted over to where he left it then made his way back to your side.

“You really brought an umbrella? It’s not going to rain,” you repeated.

“Yeah, it is. Here...let me show you. This is what my dad taught me.” He led you over to a tree. “You see when the wind blows and the backs of the leaves show? That means rain.”

“I see but...” You felt a raindrop on your head and Frankie shrugged.

“Told ya. Come on.” 

You two walked slowly through the park, taking the longer way around. “Maybe it won’t rain too bad.” No sooner had you said that than the skies opened up. You squealed and Frankie opened his umbrella as quickly as he could, pulling you under there with him.

“Think we can make it to the bridge?” he asked over the rain.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly he took your hand and pulled you along as he ran under the bridge then leaned against the stones to catch his breath.

“I...told...you,” he teased.

“Don’t rub it in,” you breathed. You smiled at him and he smiled back. He took his hat off and slicked his hair back before replacing it.

“At least it waited until after the game,” he said. He saw you hugging yourself and shrugged his jacket off before draping it over your shoulders. “There.”

“Thanks.” You pulled it around you tighter and were hit with a delightful smell. You closed your eyes and let yourself be surrounded by it. “Sandalwood,” you said out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your jacket...it smells like sandalwood,” you said.

“Oh yeah. One of my favorite scents,” he told you.

“Fits you. Very earthy and...” Your breath hitched as you noticed how close he was to you. “...you.”

“Very earthy and me?”

“Y-Yeah.” You two just stared at each other for awhile and you felt yourself being drawn to him, your body leaning towards his.

“Looks like it’s letting up,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell you were under.

“Oh...yeah, it does.” You tried to hide your slight disappointment.

“Shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm while he used the other to hold the umbrella. “Not my lady,” he amended, “I meant like...”

“I know what you meant. Let’s go.” You took his arm and moved as close as you could to get under the umbrella with him.

“I’m not used to this, you know,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t walked through the park like this since my wife died...” His words trailed off.

“Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Frankie.”

By the time he got you home, the rain had stopped and the sun had started to go down.

“Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“Thank you for walking me home,” you countered and he chuckled.

“Can I call you tonight?” he asked.

“Of course. You can call whenever you like.”

“Great...awesome.” He walked backwards down the path. “Talk to you soon,” he said before turning away. As he walked along, he noticed he had started whistling I’m Singing in the Rain. He twirled his umbrella playfully and purposely jumped in a puddle.

“What a glorious feeling, and I’m happy again...” he sang to himself.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma @pedro4ever @greeneyedblondie44

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

#mechanic!frankie #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #heythere-mel #headcanon

[crispyjenkins]

fic with ahsoka as Obi-Wans Padawan? Maybe some angsty jangobi? (Used to be together but broke up and now they pine from afar™️)

(i’m devastated that i don’t get to write ahsoka much, especially as obi’s padawan, so that an anon would come into my inbox.... and request jangobi on top of it..... seriously, though, thank you! can’t say i wasn’t inspired by @autumnchild22’s Kenobi Tano AU, but this doesn’t share almost anything with their take of events (ノ*´◡`) i’m flattered y��all thought i could do something of theirs justice lmao

i have written entirely too much backstory for this one, i think my brainstorming ended up longer than the actual fic so like. rip. 

support artists and writers by reblogging, message me for more info if this confuses you!)

  It surprises everyone except Obi-Wan that not only does Jango join the clones on the front lines, but he does so as the ARC troopers’ medic. That the son of the Mand’alor murdered by the Jedi would allow his kid to be apprenticed by a lifetime Council member is already hard enough for the galaxy at large to swallow; believing that the man who had at once been the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim wouldn’t even ask for a command position? Impossible.

  Obi-Wan knows better. Just as Obi-Wan had picked up Soresu because he could not protect his master on Naboo, Jango had learned to put people back together because he could not save his buir on Korda 6. 

  Besides, Obi-Wan thinks Mace is a wonderful match for little Boba, even though he’s joining the Jedi older than even Anakin had been. Knowing Mace was among the Jedi to liberate the spice freighter Jango had been sold to, and that he had continued to check in on Jango for years after he got his armor back, Obi-Wan actually finds it rather silly that others on the Council had thought Jango would trust Boba to anyone else. 

  Which does leave Obi-Wan in quite the predicament, when less than a year after Anakin's knighting, Mace sends him a new padawan in the middle of a campaign. 

  Ahsoka smiles with all canines, and calls Anakin Skyguy, and has to be tricked into wearing more armor because, according to Cody, she is "not to take the General's lack of self-preservation as the status quo, nor as the basis for field safety." Which, rude, Obi-Wan wears plenty of armor when the situation calls for it; he simply doesn't find many situations where plasteel has kept his men or the Jedi from dying horribly.

  Letting Ahsoka gallivant around a battlefield in a tube-top without even a cloak, however, is out of the question, and Obi-Wan thinks Waxer does a brilliant job in sizing down the armor to fit their collective padawan over the next few months. Force, had Anakin really been younger than she when he first started taking him on missions?

  "Master?"

  Obi-Wan blinks, and smiles down at Ahsoka standing next to him, his apprentice looking quite dashing in the orange paint of the 212th. "Sorry, my dear, what were you saying?"

  She shrugs, eyeing him suspiciously. "'Was just asking if we would be working with the ARC troopers on Kiros; Captain Fordo said he would show me how to use a blaster rifle next time they were on the Negotiator."

  The Kaminoans intended for a few ARC troopers to be sent with each battalion, but it had quickly become clear that Jango had not trained them that way. Instead, he had raised and created a strike team so efficient, it would have been a waste to separate them; Obi-Wan knows Jango had hand-picked them from cadets, had searched for a spark in them that the Kaminoans hadn't already snuffed out completely. Jango had been like that once, too.

  "I would be surprised if we didn't," Obi-Wan decides on, turning back to observe the 212th loading into the Negotiator, and he would be, because the ARCs are often deployed with Obi-Wan’s men, have been since the Battle of Kamino. "But I have not heard anything from Master Shaak Ti, nor Captain Fordo as of yet."

  Ahsoka scrunches up her face into a pout, an amusing show of her age that she usually does not allow. "We'll probably get halfway through the mission and they'll just show up."

  Obi-Wan chuckles. “Hm, yes, probably,” he agrees, starting to make his way down to the hangar to join his men with Ahsoka trotting along behind, “but perhaps I can convince Captain Fordo not to surprise us too badly this time.”

-

  When the ARC troopers finally storm the Kadavo Processing Facility with Anakin and the Jedi on their heels, the warden Agruss is already dead.

  The sudden swell of Jedi presence is nearly blinding after a month of helplessness, but Obi-Wan can't tap out, not yet. Rex, satisfied and vindictive and relieved, sways dangerously and automatically reaches out to Obi-Wan to steady himself. 

  That Rex trusts him enough to not even think about rank before asking for help warms Obi-Wan in ways he doesn't yet have the words for — he wraps Rex's arm around his shoulders and takes half his weight happily.

  "Thank you," Obi-Wan finds himself murmuring as he helps Rex towards the doors, and only smiles at the captain's bemused expression. 

  "Whatever for, General?" he asks, even as he looks back over their shoulders across the room, to Agruss impaled to his chair with the electrostaff still sparking. Then he returns Obi-Wan’s smile, shaking his head. "That's not very Jedi-like of you, sir."

  "I'm afraid I haven't felt much a Jedi since Kiros, my dear." Which is perhaps too honest to allow himself before he's had a proper meal and a full night's rest, but if there is anyone who will understand, it is the man that lived it with him. "We could wait up here for Anakin to find us, but it will likely be a while before they can spare him to start looking; do you think you can keep your feet long enough for us to reach the ground floor?"

  Rex snorts and gives a vague wave of his free hand towards the elevators. "Well, I'm certainly not going to wait up here like some damsel, sir, and General Skywalker would kill me if I let you wander around on your own."

  "Well!" Obi-Wan laughs, for the first time in weeks, and hitches Rex up to get a better grip on his waist. "In that case, we really should not keep him waiting."

  They somehow time it perfectly for what the 187th and the 501st to have just finished rounding up the slavers in the courtyard when he and Rex hobble out of a side door of the warden's tower. Lieutenant Law oversees the Togrutas' move to Mace’s flagship Solace, and Obi-Wan easily picks him and Boba out from the crowd, standing at the base of the loading ramp and speaking with the Kiros colony's governor. Anakin is nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan doesn't get the chance to keep looking before Kix spots them from his place by the medical frigate; a shout passes over the nearby clones like a wave, until Kix and an ARC trooper break away to (gently) manhandle both him and Rex to the frigate. 

  The 187th's medic, Oro, is already on board seeing to the Togrutas too injured to wait for triage on the Solace, snapping a distracted salute that Obi-Wan quickly waves off as he helps heft Rex onto a hoverbed. He fully intends to duck back out and check in with Mace, though things seem well in hand without him, but the ARC with Kix takes off his helmet and glares, until Obi-Wan meekly shuffles to the next hoverbed over.

  He could never refuse Jango, after all. 

  "You repainted your armor," he says conversationally, as Jango pulls a scanner from the bandoleer around his chest and has Obi-Wan roll up his right sleeve. 

  "'Lost the last set to a sarlacc before our deployment to Kiros," Jango snorts, Concord Dawn accent stronger than any of his clones. "Though it looks like your mission had its fair share of excitement." Running the scanner over the electrical burns on Obi-Wan’s arm, Jango raises an eyebrow at the dried blood on the shoulder of his tunics; Obi-Wan honestly doesn't remember if it's his or not.

  And he can only smile at Jango, because even with a decade and a war between them, the corner of Jango's mouth still twitches when he's stressed. "Well, it certainly wasn't boring, my dear," Obi-Wan says, opening the neck of his tunic enough for Jango to stick him with a hypospray that hopefully won't make him too high. "And I can't say I'm looking forward to what is surely going to be a long dip in the bacta tank."

  He gets a laugh for that, and can't think of the last time they had done more than make eye contact from opposite sides of a ship. Perhaps it had been Kamino, when Taun We had first sent for the Jedi to meet the army created for them. 

  Obi-Wan had rather thought Jango dead until then, when he had disappeared from the galaxy abruptly as if he had never lived in it at all. For a time, Obi-Wan believed he had just gotten cold feet, that finally meeting Anakin made it all a little too personal too quickly, but then even Mace could not get a hold of him and no one had seen a Mandalorian bounty hunter in months.

  Their... conversation, Jango's stilted explanations of his absence and of how little he actually knew about the purpose for the clones he helped create, left far too much unsaid, but then Obi-Wan had been sent to Geonosis and, well. It's been nearly two years now, and Obi-Wan isn't sure if he's even seen Jango without his helmet since then. 

  His eyes flick over Obi-Wan’s face, the left side of his lips twitching as if knowing exactly what Obi-Wan is thinking — and he might not put it past him. 

  "Where are Anakin and Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan hears himself ask, when the silence grows heavy with those unsaid words. And he really would like to check in with his padawan, he can't imagine her last month has been a picnic either.

  Jango sticks him with another stim before answering, "Mace sent Skywalker to make sure no slave is missed, and no slaver isn't arrested. As for your new foundling..." That little smile comes back, as Jango nods out the back of the frigate to where someone is cutting a line through the clones guarding their new prisoners. 

  "Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbles, barely having time to brace himself before Ahsoka is launching herself at him, and all he can think is how relieved he is to see her out of her slave disguise. Jango steps cleanly out of the way to let Ahsoka smother herself in Obi-Wan’s chest, though it doesn’t stop him from starting to prep bacta patches to tide him over until they can get to the Negotiator’s medbay.

  “Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, carefully loosening the tight net of his shields for the first time since Zygerria and letting Ahsoka’s presence flood his mind. 

  “It’s good to see you, Master ‘Nobi,” she says into his tunics, and her voice does not waver at all.

  He manages a chuckle, though it does not hold nearly as well as Ahsoka’s, as he feels himself finally relax. Anakin, of course, senses the both of them immediately and prods at their minds, but neither Obi-Wan nor his padawan acknowledge him. “I take it the Queen is dead?”

  Ahsoka sighs and pulls back enough to nod. “Count Dooku was there, Skyguy barely got us all out.”

  “That was a week ago,” Jango adds, not looking up from the datapad he’s logging Obi-Wan’s injuries into. “Even with the Queen giving us the location of the Processing Facility, we had to wait for the 187th to catch up.”

  Running his palm from the top of her head down her hind lek, Ahsoka melts back against him with a Togruta churr he rarely has the pleasure of hearing from her. “Hm, and I imagine Boba was thrilled to work with the ARC troopers.”

  Jango snorts, because they both know Boba is thirteen and his rebellious stage where he wants nothing to do with his father for fear of losing his independence. “Originally, the 104th was the closest battalion, but were held up in their own campaign. ‘Honestly didn’t think we could keep Skywalker from rushing in anyways.”

  And Obi-Wan has to wince at that, because no matter what he does, he can’t seem to find a way to teach Anakin about attachment in words he understands; truthfully, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had him knighted until he had at least attempted to master that part of his mind, but, well, the War had different opinions.

  “I’m actually just surprised he didn’t try to fight Dooku,” Ahsoka admits, finally releasing Obi-Wan only to hop up on the hoverbed next to him. Jango immediately pulls Obi-Wan’s bare arm back to himself to start slapping the bacta patches over the worst of his burns. “Master Windu had a talk with him, though, I think it was good for him.”

  “I’d like to see that!” Jango barks, only half sarcastically: he knows better than most, the sorts of things Mace Windu can talk someone out of, and if it worked for one ex-slave, why shouldn’t it work on another?

  Ah, perhaps that shared history should not have slipped Obi-Wan’s mind, not here with thousands of freed slaves needing aid for injuries Jango is intimately familiar with.

  “And are you alright?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, as Jango is cutting his sleeve further back. His brow ticks back up, clearly bewildered by what Obi-Wan could be referring to, but it’s Ahsoka that leans around Obi-Wan to sniff triumphantly up at Jango.

  “I told you he still likes you,” she says, and Jango’s hand freezes on Obi-Wan’s wrist.

  Obi-Wan sighs. “Ahsoka.”

  But instead of denying that he might have actually had such a conversation with Obi-Wan’s padawan, Jango coughs on a laugh. “So you did, edee. To be fair, I did not think that was the issue.”

  Ahsoka rolls her eyes, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s side as he automatically raises his arm to accommodate her. “He thinks he lost his chance, Master ‘Nobi,” she tells him. “Even Cody thinks he’s full of banthashit.”

  Where Obi-Wan feels a little shell-shocked by the turn in conversation, Jango simply keeps that tiny smile — even if it looks bittersweet and self-deprecating now. “Your foundling has spent the last week talking me in circles about this, I almost think she’s as stubborn as you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Obi-Wan returns, sarcasm an automatic, subconscious response. 

  “I wouldn’t need to talk you in circles if you two just talked to each other.”

  Shaking his head in bemusement, Obi-Wan gently fixes Ahsoka’s slika beads to lay properly around her montrals. “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of history there, little one; most of which I’m sure Jango did not actually share with you.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “No, he refuses to tell me anything except that you met on a mission. And that he saved your ass from Jabba the Hutt.”

  Obi-Wan snaps his eyes to Jango, who looks absolutely anywhere but at him. “Is that how you remember it going, my dear?”

  “Could we do this later?”

  “Because if I recall correctly, and I do, this is not the first time you’ve lost your armor to a sarlacc.”

  Jango looks to the ceiling for patience. 

-

Mando'a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral  Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. edee — “teeth”, “jaws”, used here as an affectionate name for Ahsoka. because she teeth.

#thinking about opening the ask box again but keeping anon off #i miss y’all ꒰๑·̥﹏·̥๑꒱ #WHY DO I KEEP WRITING 3000 WORD PROMPT FILLS #well i mean it’s cause i don’t want it to seem slapdash or not thought out and i always have so much plot #but it’d still be nice to not put my chaptered fics on the backburner ‘cause i can’t multitask between them T0T #prompt fill #crispy writes #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #prequel trilogy #au #force sensitive boba #alternate events at and post galidraan #medic jango #clone oc #oro is mine (ノ*´▽`) #real talk tho #i’m super fucked up about everything happening with achievement hunter right now #it’s been a rough couple of days #i hope you’re all safe and healthy and taking care of each other #believe victims not abusers #hashtag crispy stop tagging so much