#baby yoda is the reason i will keep watching

[glazedyam]

TWICE Tzuyu FLUFF Alphabet

wc: 1.17k

warnings: none! Not proofread so if you see any mistakes tell me and I'll correct them.

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

I think Tzuyu likes to do common things with you. Like, she doesn’t care about what it is as long as she’s spending time with you. It can be grocery shopping or going out for a walk, she’ll enjoy it to the maximum. 

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Tzuyu admires your beautiful hands. She thinks they’re so soft and delicate…

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

Tzuyu almost never gets anxiety, so she’s not very good at helping you with it. But she’ll try her best! She’ll hug you, hold you close to her, and give you kisses on the forehead. 

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

I don’t see Tzuyu wanting children, so you’re safe in that aspect. She pictures a future where you both are living happily, together. Whether you guys are married or not it’s up to you! 

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

I see her as the passive one. She’s so calm and composed in situations so you are the one that needs to take matters into your own hand.

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what’s their idea of a fun day out?)

A fun day with you would be staying at home and watching movies. She’s an introvert so I don’t see her going out as much. She usually doesn’t like to go out, as she prefers to stay at home, but she ultimately will go out if that’s what you want! 

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

She’s grateful but sometimes forgets to express it, and/or doesn't know how to do it. I picture her being grateful by spending her time with you, or making you a home-cooked meal. Domesticity is very important for Tzuyu.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

I picture that Tzuyu keeps secrets unintentionally. She just forgets to tell you things and it sometimes makes it awkward for her to speak about certain things.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?)

Tzuyu used to be more reserved, but now that she has you, she’s slowly coming out of her shell and learning to be more open about things. 

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

I picture Tzuyu as a slightly possessive woman. She’s just used to having you all to herself all the time, so it makes her slightly jealous when you give your full attention to someone else.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

You were each other's first kiss. I know Tzuyu is beautiful and has many suitors behind her, but I think she wanted to have her first kiss be special, with someone she fully trusts and cares about.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

She confessed after a friendly date you both had, she was so confident you’d say yes she didn’t even get nervous or anything. She’s just that confident in herself.

M-Mornings (what’s it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

She wakes up pretty early, so you always wake up to an empty bed. Sometimes when she’s really tired she’ll sleep in and you can have morning cuddles. :3

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

Baby, or princess. She prefers the classic couple nicknames. You sometimes call her Yoda for funsies. 

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

She’s not big on PDA. But in private she’ll be as affectionate as you want her to be.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they’re with you for no reason in particular)

She liked to cup your face in her hands. She just likes feeling your cheeks in her hands, and if you have chubby cheeks (like me) she just loves to do it even more.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Very romantic and cliché. She just enjoys the classically romantic things couples do. She always wanted to experience those things she saw in movies and read in books, so now that she had the chance, she will!

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

Yes! She’ll support you in anything you wanna do, except if it takes you away from her. ☹️ As I said before, she’s mildly possessive, so she’ll be very sad if what you wanna do takes you far away from her, but she will ultimately relate.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship or do they prefer a certain routine?)

She prefers the routine. She just prefers to stick to the things she knows or expects. 

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

She sometimes has a hard time understanding emotions since I don’t picture her as an emotional person, but she will try to be as empathetic as she can with you.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

She values your relationship a lot. She loves you with all her heart, and wants to make you happy at all costs. She values you very highly but I don’t think she’ll want to make your relationship public. Mainly because she doesn’t want the paparazzi (like DISPATCH) to know about you guys’ private life.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

Keeps a picture of you in her wallet or purse. She just loves staring at your face. It gives her strength to go on in difficult times.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

She’s mildly affectionate, as I said she’s not very emotional and that applies to you guys’ relationship. 

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

She copes by seeing pictures or videos of you. If you’re an idol too, she’ll wait for you to make a VLive and comment on it via her secret account.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

She’s willing to sacrifice a lot for you, but don’t expect her to be the only one doing the sacrificing. She loves you, yes, but she also needs her space and time. Please be patient with her. ❤️

#twice #fem reader #twice tzuyu #chou tzuyu #chou tzuyu x reader #x reader

[champagnemanagement]

SOB LOG 2023 HIGHLIGHTS!!!

Don’t know about SOB LOG? Primer: I keep a log of every time I cry because we typically avoid talking about our tears, and I don’t think we should! The main reason is embarrassment and fuck that. We need to normalize crying. It IS normal and common and healthy- we just don’t talk about it. Now it’s a different story if you are crying every day because of loneliness or self-hatred or something like that. You most definitely need to talk about it to someone but it should probably be a professional! I am talking about the tears that come as a reaction to emotional experiences—like reading a book or listening to a song or watching the news.

So this year I came in at 127 SOBS, which is the exact same number from 2021!!!! Here are my TOP TEN SOBS in chronological order based on the criteria of variety and ridiculousness.

This 95 year old man’s bday celebration at a dunkin donuts

Ke huay quan's speech at Golden globes

I cried MANY times about the death of my brother’s BFF Annie, particularly hard listening to the song he sang for her

Seeing a picture of Trayvon Martin at Experience Aviation

Reading about law in MO forcing trans people to detransition

Caught up on season 2 of The Mandalorian: baby yoda touching PP’s face unleashed a torrent

When Nazis showed up at a drag event at Land Grant Brewery in Columbus

I somehow cried during INSIDIOUS 4

O'Shae Sibley, a Beloved Dancer, Killed After Vogueing at Brooklyn Gas Station

This one’s a 2 parter: I cried during Quellek’s death in Galaxy Quest and then I cried AGAIN when Quellek’s death was talked about in the Galaxy Quest documentary, Never Surrender: A Galaxy Quest Documentary (which is EXCELLENT, btw).

I cried many times during the following shows: Midnight Mass, Rupaul’s Drag Race, the Ken Burns’ Country Music series (especially the Hank Williams ep), Strange New Worlds, The Golden Bachelor, GBBO, just to name a few! And not many people will appreciate this but I SHED A TEAR FOR TUVIX!! (I watched the Tuvix ep of Voyager after the Lower Decks ep inspired by it.)

So that’s it!! Happy sob logging in 2024!

#sob log

[phoenixyfriend]

📚📚?

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

Oh god okay this one is. So incredibly stupid and combines at least three different plots that I keep recycling (time-travel, rexwalker, Anakin's Gender/omegaverse). I also only came up with it last night so [shrug emoji].

Warnings: mpreg, arguable dubcon (the sex itself is fully consensual, but some of the motivations are kept secret for complicated reasons).

It's an omegaverse AU. Anakin's an omega, capable of pregnancy, and Rex is either alpha or beta. Probably alpha. The important part is that they're compatible.

Anakin and Rex were in a relationship during the war, alongside Anidala. Anakin really wanted to get pregnant, but it didn't really come up outside of Bedroom Games because, you know, there's a war on. A few times he begged, and Rex had to be the one to actually put his foot down about Not Now, because [gestures at Anakin's lack of responsible behavior when family is on the table/line].

Eventually, Padme gets pregnant with Anakin's kids, and RotS goes down basically as canon. Rex is devastated by the loss of his lover(s), does Rebellion work freeing brothers, etc.

Shit Happens. Rex finds out about Anakin being Vader. He and Ahsoka commiserate.

Time-travel! For lack of a better option, we'll blame the bird (Morai), and the not-Jedi (Ahsoka). Mental, so Rex is inhabiting his younger body. Bit weird. Ahsoka is also inhabiting her younger self, and largely Not Acknowledging the Anakin situation. She's letting Rex handle that part.

He and Anakin are still in love, as far as Anakin is concerned, and Rex still loves him, but... he can't forget Vader.

Rex himself is Acting Weird but Anakin's off doing Jedi things on Coruscant for the first couple days of Rex adjusting to when and where he is, so it's not super noticeable. Rex uses the time to plan.

The thing is. Anakin always made it 100% clear that he wanted babies. He wants to be pregnant. He wants to be filled up and used and then watch his belly fill out and start glowing and all that. He is into it, partly for kink reasons and partly because he's got a lot of neuroses about life and death and so on.

Rex only feels a little bad about it, when he 'bends' and lets Anakin ride him in heat without a barrier or any real birth control. He even provides a proper caveat (if Rex agrees to getting Anakin pregnant, then the Chancellor isn't allowed to know), repeatedly checks with Anakin that he's consenting to this, and then talks dirty to the point that Anakin nearly loses his mind. It ends, almost inevitably, in Anakin being pregnant. With twins.

(Rex probably knew about Padme's pregnancy. He probably guessed that Anakin's fall was for her sake, for her life. I'm not sure anyone told him the babies survived. Obi-Wan and Bail and Yoda might not have known about how deep his relationship with Anidala was. Rex doesn't know that the twins Anakin is having are the twins Padme would have carried. He hopes, though.)

The pregnancy is enough to distract Anakin from all the shit that's going on, even keeps him and Padme from doing things that could get her pregnant. Rex's plan, to get Anakin pregnant and distract him from going evil, works. It works phenomenally, and his contacts in the Corrie Guard and among the Senate pull together enough information to take Palpatine out of play.

Rex admits to Anakin that he's from the future, and that he agreed to getting Anakin pregnant (with babies that are by now born and a few months old) as a ploy to keep Anakin from falling to the Sith. Anakin is offended and generally hurt and overall really angry about Rex manipulating him like that. Padme is also hurt that Rex resorted to sexual trickery instead of just talking to them. Doesn't it cheapen the act of creation? Various other flowery accusations are thrown about. Anakin doesn't talk to Rex for a week.

Ahsoka finds Anakin and sits down and listens to him and Padme talk about how hurt they are. Then she explains what she knows (what she's put together) about how Anakin Fell the first time around. Explains the brain chips and the genocide and the burning of the Temple. Explains just how close Rex came to killing Ahsoka herself, his best friend. How he had to kill his own brothers. How he failed to save yet more. Ahsoka spends hours telling Anakin and Padme about how Rex was not the man they'd fallen for, but someone who'd been through a decade more of trauma, and was working off a level of paranoia and pain that they couldn't even begin to fathom, especially not when Rex could still see how much Anakin trusted Palpatine, and didn't have the clearest memory of these years, certainly not enough to know if Anakin would trust Rex's word over that of the Chancellor himself.

It's a heavy conversation. They take a few hours to mull it over after Ahsoka leaves, and then message Rex to come back. There's a long, heavy conversation that ends with kisses and cuddles, and the two of them extracting a promise from Rex to get some psychological help, which he only agrees to if Anakin does the same.

IDK I just think an AU where the world is saved by paranoia-induced pregnancy schemes with someone who wants it but doesn't know why their partner agreed are a special shade of fucked up fun.

Also, this was loosely inspired by the premise of @inferior-fairy's "[Only] Think of Me," which is a different ship but still has the delightful nonsense plot that is "get Anakin pregnant to keep him from doing stupid evil."

#rexanidala #captain rex #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #rexwalker #phoenix answers memes #mpreg #omegaverse

[licorishh]

Apparently this is an unpopular opinion but I really enjoyed the Mando s3 finale (spoilers under the cut).

The one thing that annoyed me (at first) was how Gideon just suddenly randomly destroyed the frickin Darksaber. Like. Bro. Bo's literally been after this thing for twenty frickin years, it's been the plot point of the entire season, she FINALLY has it and you're really gonna just squash it. But it occurred to me that that could actually have a symbolic purpose; the Mandalorians united not because Bo had the Darksaber, but because they had a common goal: to retake Mandalore. Now that they've done that, I think they've realized that they can continue to be a united people under her leadership because she is, objectively, the best leader they could have, and not because of some antique sword. I think it symbolizes the start of a new era for Mandalorians, one not bound by tradition, but by their desire to be a united people again. And honestly, that's actually some beautiful story-telling. Yes, the Darksaber has immense importance to the people of Mandalore, but now that they've moved past their hatred for each other in an effort to rebuild their home, a sword that was used solely to prevent the people from killing each other out of anger is no longer necessary, and frankly would only be holding them back. You could compare it to the old samurai of Japan way back in ye olden days (obviously they weren't having internal feuding but they were trapped in their old ways by tradition much like the Mandalorians).

I was very pleased that Pedro's acting went back to being great, and that the episode was more Mando + Baby Yoda-centric, and I'm very happy that we're going back to it being about just them next season. With everything they talked about in the finale, I feel like it gave the seemingly odd decisions they made in the rest of the season context and closure, and it honestly massively improved my opinion of the season. Apparently that's a vastly unpopular opinion, but I'm used to being in the minority when it comes to preferences in Star Wars.

A couple of the popular negative opinions people have had that I did not agree with were that the way Bo got the Darksaber back made no sense, and that because she got it back Mando had zero reason to stick around with Bo. They clearly explained why it made sense for her to get the Darksaber in episode 6, and while it was on a technicality, what other way would she have gotten it? It didn't make any sense for Mando to keep it, and Bo really needed it, and they never would have fought each other for it. If they had, it would have been very unbelievable and very out-of-character for both of them. Bo may have been ambitious and desperate to get it back, but she's not heartless and Mando is her friend. She wouldn't fight the guy to the death just for the sword. And in reality, it makes perfect sense that she got the saber from the creature who got it from Din. It all checks out. Other than that, yeah, there might be no "literary reason" for Mando to have stayed with her, but as he himself explained, she saved his neck TWICE and is his friend, so he stayed out of loyalty. Helping her simply because he wants to do what he can makes perfect sense. Sometimes, believe it or not, people can do things out of the goodness of their heart simply because they want to help. That and the fact that he wanted Mandalore to be retaken just as much as she did made it make perfect sense.

At the end of the day, Star Wars fans are some of the pickiest people on Earth and all seem incapable of just enjoying a show because it's fun. It's Star Wars. It's meant to be a good time with fun characters and cool fight scenes; it doesn't need to be a timeless cinematic masterpiece with writing so captivating it's used as a cornerstone of literature for hundreds of years to come.

All in all, after watching the finale, I've changed my mind and decided that I did really enjoy this season. Episode 6 was a train wreck, yes, but the rest of the season was fun and I think necessary so that Mandalore and its people could finally get the closure and happy ending they desperately, DESPERATELY needed.

And, of course, I nearly frickin cried when Mando said he wanted to formally adopt Baby Yoda. My boys are legally a family now and I may cry.

Great season, better than everyone said it was, and y'all gotta take your expectations down a notch. It had a few bumps, but explained and worked through them a HECK of a lot better than a lot of things have. I enjoyed it, and I can like what I wanna like.

I may have forgotten something here but this is all I got for now lol

Peace out.

#star wars #sw #mandalorian #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #star wars the mandalorian #sw the mandalorian

[ooops-i-arted]

H

Friend,have heard nothing from you online for some time - I hope you are well and safe? I am finally watching Rebels and need someone to appreciate my slurs about Filoni's writing. Though I'll admit this series is superior to Clone Wars, there is still way too much of a certain orange menace popping up for no reasons

I truly hope this finds you safe, well, and in a good place in life

Jay

Thanks for checking in! Busy parent-teacher conference week and then started spring break out of town so that's why I've been MIA.

Damn I miss Rebels. I LOVED the Ghost crew, such a wonderful cast of characters, and Season 1 especially gave us a unique perspective of the Rebellion from a group "in the trenches" so to speak, when we usually see it from the brass' point of view (Leia, Mon Mothma, etc). Of course you know Filoni, he turns it into a vehicle for his faves whenever he can. Who cares about the main characters when we can worry about Ahsoka and Darth Maul (who DIED and it was IMPORTANT in TPM) and Rex instead. I keep meaning to go back and finish it but the season 2 finale left such a bitter taste in my mouth I still haven't been able to. (That and I can't bear it if Filoni butchers Thrawn. I'm happier not knowing lol. Although I do really wanna see Sabine's involvement with the Mandalorians and the Darksaber.) I have lots of fun memories of making art for Rebels though and the fandom was overall a really positive and fun space.

I would like to get around to writing this week (I have a Baby Yoda Meta to write!) .... but I may just play Legos instead lmao. Hope you're safe and well too!

#asks #anon

[angels-and-demons]

Was just messing about on the otp prompt generator (link), and here are a few that I like.

Use them in your fanfics, use them for your fanart. Whatever.

Under the cut for length:

Nico tilting Toby's chin up to get a better look at his face and the evidence of the fight. Nico delicately thumbs away a streak of blood from Toby's mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, Toby's heart skips a nervous beat as Nico looks him dead in the eyes. His voice is quiet and tense. His anger barely restrained.

"Who did this to you?"

-

Toby is normally the clingy one and the one that likes the attention. Well, one day, Nico comes home and is exhausted and proceeds to cuddle up onto Toby like a kitten. Nico puts their face into Toby's neck and Toby enjoys every minute of it as Nico is begging for kisses and cuddles and Toby is happy to supply.

-

Nico and Toby go to the bookstore and suddenly Toby runs away. When Toby comes back, he is holding a Yoda plushie. Toby then talks in a Yoda voice saying: "Run over bitch in my 2003 Toyota Prius I must" and Nico responds with howling laughter.

-

Toby and Nico throwing food for the ducks at the duck pond.

-

Nico and Toby are on a hammock together, the sun is setting, the air cools and Nico is asleep on Toby's chest while Toby has a foot on the ground, rocking the hammock in hopes of keeping Nico asleep.

-

Toby dancing around their home with headphones in, eyes closed, and singing as loudly as they please to their favorite song while Nico stands in the doorway, watching their oblivious partner dance and sing with a loving smile on their face.

-

Laying in bed, foreheads pressed together, just gazing into each other's eyes and taking it all in. Everything is silent.

And then, Toby suddenly sneezes and scares Nico so badly that they fall out of the bed, causing Toby to laugh.

-

 *Nico TEXTING Toby*

Nico: Toby, I'm sorry.

Nico: Please talk to me baby

Nico: Muffin?

Nico: Sweet pea?

Nico: The love of my life.

Nico: Beautiful cinammon roll who's too pure and precious for this world.

Toby: Sorry doesn't bring back my fucking Skittles, Nico.

-

Nico and Toby enjoying a night of stargazing. Things are going well, and romantic, they start to kiss/make out and a storm hits. But instead of seeking shelter from the rain they make love under the night sky not caring if they’re drenched.

They’re just caught up in the moment of passion itself, the heated air of summer only provides a good reason to enjoy it. 

Bonus: Either one or both get sick.

-

Toby wakes to find that it had snowed overnight and gets excited about playing in it. Nico gets excited because this means that when Toby comes inside, it will mean that they get to cuddle by the fire.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #nico di angelo #pjo #crack ship #nicoby #pjo nico #incorrect creepypasta quotes #nico x toby #hoo nico #nico pjo #nico #ticci toby headcanon #toby erin rogers #ticci toby creepypasta #tobias erin rogers #toby x nico #nico di angelo x ticci toby #ticci toby x nico #ticci toby x nico di angelo #ship prompts

[lire-casander]

1, 9, 18?

thank you so much for the ask, my dear!

1. show you watch religiously, can't miss an episode? 911ls, when it's on, and rnm!

9. show you only keep up with through social media? obi-wan. i plan on watching it, but i keep postponing it!

18. show you don't understand the hype for? the mandalorian. i know it's like this big show for the star wars universe, but seriously, i tried one episode. i couldn't finish it. and i really want to watch baby yoda! but i just can't stand it for some reason.

send me one of these tv show asks!

#you asked #you ask and lire answers #chamblerstara #tv show asks

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

dontcxckitup-m asked: 1,6,11,21,24,31,32,40,46,48

here’s weirder asks: ACCEPTING

II @dontcxckitup-m​

1.who is/are your comfort character(s)?

//Oooh I have a number of them, but I guess the main are Richard (obviously), Indiana Jones, Winnie The Pooh, and Baby Yoda, Ellie and Joel from Last of Us. I have others, but those are the ones I could think of for now!//

6.why did you do that?

//............. 👀 for umm.... very important and totally not sketchy reasons??? 👀👀👀👀 now shut up and take a shovel and help me dig 👀👀👀//

11.favorite extracurricular activity?

//As a kid I really loved baking and my singing lessons. Yes, I took singing lessons for 12 years shhhhh 🤭 I also did a summer theatre workshop which was pretty fun!//

21.something you’ve kept since childhood?

//A majority of stuff I have in my room are from my childhood hehe! But some of the main ones are-- 2 of my favourite stuffed toys as a kid (a small dalmation and this little doll/purse thing ), my book of Velveteen Rabbit (which was my favourite book as a kid), all of my Ology Collection books... There’s more but I just forgot lol//

24.if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

//Pushing each other off 🌚 jk jk Honestly, besides trying to stop me from probably petting a bird or smth, we’d probably be doing stuff we always do whenever we hang out 💕-- (Talk a lot. Make really dumb jokes together and laugh a ton. Plan future threads + angst. Swoon over films, our actor crushes. Try and survive my puns. 😊) and maybe star watching (cause stars are cool) and playing a game of eye-spy from all the way up there? Oh, and we’d probably have snacks and drinks or smth with us up there ‘cause heyyyy the more food the better 😌💕//

31.what type of music keeps you grounded?

//I think it depends on what I’m doing? Usually if I need to calm down, or if I need to concentrate while I study it’s mainly different music soundtracks. If it involves working out then I have a few other songs, but it’s mainly The Pirates of the Caribbean Soundtrack 😂//

32.do you have a favorite towel?

//Is it weird that I do???? 😅 It’s just this plain, blue towel, but for some reason it just feels a lot softer than the others ahaha//

40.did you have any snacks today?

//I diiiid, actually! Got myself a chocolate donut on the way back from my walk 🤤//

46.favorite holiday film?

//For Halloween: Hocus Pocus. Over The Garden Wall. Dead and Loving it. The Awakening. Trick R’ Treat.  Christmas: Its a Wonderful Life. Love Actually. Gremlins (hush). Klaus. Home Alone//

48.when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

//I probably first tried alcohol at a lunch probably in my grandmother’s house, when I was about 8-ish I think. I mean, not a full glass or anything, but she always had these copitas, which are just basically, baby-sized wine glasses, and she’d always pour us a little bit with our food 🤤 But if you mean as in officially drinking, then probably when I was 15 or smth at a party!//

#ooc;the gremlin behind the curtain #dontcxitup #//ahhhh! thank u for these! 😁// #answered ask;

[fduplegacy]

Adam got Audrey to watch star wars

He thought she'd catch feelings for either Anakin or Obi-Wan (completely reasonable).

He was caught off-guard, yet not surprised... when she developed a crush on Darth Maul. He then had the mortifying experience of seeing her with a genuine expression of devastation when he got chopped.

Season 4 of the Clone Wars got him the delightful experience of seeing her cheer for her man's return... only to turn into horror when he was actually a spider... that horror lasted a SECOND, then she said in few words... "still I'd smash"

Savage's death guaranteed a minute of solemn silence, more than HER OWN MOTHER got from her at the funeral.

The Mandalore arc had her curled up in the couch with a pillow held hostage in her arms. She truly believed that if Ahsoka and Maul had joined forces, they would've been able to stop Sidious. She enjoyed the fight regardless.

The OG trilogy was the chattiest he had ever seen her. He could see her connecting the dots in her head. Every so often she'd turn to look at him as if to say You're seeing this! We've known this! he was enamoured by her once again.

The Mandalorian was declared an official favorite of hers. He got her a baby Yoda sweatshirt and the toy... her eyes shone for a whole week. She placed the baby on the chimney... where her mother used to keep her youth pictures and her father's ashes... all of those were stored in a box in the basement. The mantle was now Baby Yoda's throne.

Season 2 had him consider a few things on his fun budget... more so when her eyes were laser focused whenever Mando was on screen... he said fuck it. I want her happy. Then went on a well-researched online shopping spree.

A week later, he walks into Audrey's room with a perfect replica of the Mandalorian's costume. "It stays on during sex" was a simultaneous sentence from the both of them. Audrey was elated when she noticed he also got a voice modulator with the helmet. (She loves his normal voice but this was GOOD).

Another week went by... he miraculously got the entire Maul face paint done before she came back from the grocery store and the post office. The bald cap with horns was a seamless thing that blended well with the face paint, and he was grateful that "It stays on during sex" happened again, since he had just painted his face and not his entire body.

Audrey was very very very happy for a long while. And the Mandalorian cosplay got more than one use...

#drabble #i aint even want to tag this but i gotta #Adam #Audrey

[kalique]

ill probably never watch the mandalorian but i keep tabs on it from a respectful distance for the sole reason that i think baby yoda is adorable and would die for him in a heartbeat. yes i am aware this is an extremely normie position to take. what of it. disney’s carefully crafted little marketable critter has me by the balls. and i am not ashamed

[superbatson]

me, towards the end of ep 2: well that was a boring, dumb episode

baby yoda: *wakes up right before the episode ends*

me:

#the mandalorian #yeah i finished ep 1 AND got through ep 2 today #yay me! #baby yoda is the reason i will keep watching #and also the hope that pedro will finally take the mask off

[staticscreenwriting]

Where the heart is // B. B.

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)

TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 

TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately. 

Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is

The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.

People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.

There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.

There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.

When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.

“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”  

“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“

“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “

She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.

“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.

“ If that’s okay with you.”

“ sure. “

The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”

They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.

He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.

Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.

There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.

She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.

“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.

She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.

“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “

His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.

Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.

“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.

There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.

He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.

“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “

He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.

“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “

She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.

“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.” 

“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”

Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?

She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.

“ Sure, I guess. I —  yeah.”

She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.

He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.

She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.

There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.

“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “

He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.

Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.

“ I have —  I have no idea. “ he has to confess.

“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.

“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”

“ Oh god! That was terrible. “

“ It was.”

She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.

“ What are you thinking about? “

He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?

“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “

It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.

“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.

Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.

“ Nothing. “

“ Hm? “

“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “

She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.

It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.

“ Our first picture with Alpine. “

“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.

He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.

“ Was worth it though! “

Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “

“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”

“ He’s our cat.” he points out.

“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”

It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.

“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “

“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “

There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.

“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.

“ Is that from the —”

“ The tattoo place, yeah. “

The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.

“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.

“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “

Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “

“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.

“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.

“ You were the best boyfriend. “

“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “

She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.

“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “

It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.

Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.

“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “

“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.

But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.

“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “

She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.

“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.

“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.

“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “

“ I didn’t give up. “

“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “

“ You agreed! “

“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”

Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.

“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “

“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken.  “

He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.

Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.

“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “

She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.

“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “

“ I miss you Bucky. “

“ I miss you too. “

“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“ Even without the babies? “

“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”

“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.

Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.

“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “

“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.

He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.

“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “

“ I think you might be right. “

And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.

“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “

“ You’ll look gorgeous.”

And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.

There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.

They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.

And forever.

#bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader

[nevertheless-moving]

Invisible Hand Chaos AU x 2

Star Wars Time Travel AU #31

Continuation from HERE

Anakin whirled to face his Master, “Did you know Yoda had a baby?” he asked incredulous and slightly betrayed.

“What? No. Also he could just be another of Yoda’s species. Obviously.” Internally Obi-Wan thought about the still unnamed larva in a hidden aquatic creche, but the Mandalorian’s associate even called him Baby Yoda...

“Unbelievable,” Dooku muttered. “That little green hypocrite.”

“Did you know about this?” Anakin asked the Sith Lord, temporarily forgetting about the fight in favor of the revelation that Yoda might also have a secret family.

“Of course not, the troll never tells anyone anything,” Dooku ranted, deliberately setting aside the fight in favor of unloading decades of suppressed irritation with his former Master.

“I feel we might be jumping to conclusions here-” Obi-Wan offered weakly. 

Anakin scoffed. “He literally just called him Baby Yoda,”

“Loathe as I am to admit it, your apprentice is correct. It would seem the Grandmaster of the order has been keeping some secrets.”

“This is absurd!” Obi-Wan protested as the small child on the balcony above tilted his head curiously, watching the conversation below with interest from the safety of his Buir’s arms. 

“I agree.” Anakin said self-righteously. “If Yoda can have a baby then- then everyone in the order should be allowed a family.”

“Anakin...”

“Anakin, as interesting is this all is, I’m still in somewhat of a bind over here,” the Chancellor called across the hall, irritated and somewhat alarmed by the sudden outbreak of peace in the room.

“We’ll be right with you Chancellor, don’t worry!” Obi-Wan called back. 

“We just need a minute to figure some Jedi business out!” Anakin added. 

“You there- Mandalorian” Dooku called up sharply. 

“...Yeah?” the Besker-clad warrior answered uncertainly.

“What is the parentage of the child in your arms? How did you come to possess him?” The count's question cut through everything else in the room, and the two Jedi held their breath as they waited for the answer.

The Mandalorian pulled Grogu in closer, “He is a foundling. I know his name as my child.”

“Mandalorians,” Obi-Wan and Dooku muttered, Obi-Wan fondly, Dooku with exasperation.

“What?” Anakin asked bewildered.

“The Mandalorian adopted him- hold on a second, I’m going to try something.” Obi-Wan said.

“Mando! Forgive me- Have you already attempted to return your foundling to his people and been denied? If not, we can show you where to find an elder of his kind.”

The Mandalorian stiffened. “I already found one of his people. It took a great deal of time; neither of us knew there were any others left in the galaxy. By the time I met Luke...the child was mine and we would not be parted long. The three of us began traveling together. He acted as mentor to Grogu, though he is too young to be considered the boy’s senior. In time...we decided it would be simpler to raise him as a warrior together. We are one.”

“Oh. How wonderful.” Obi-Wan said weakly. 

Anakin’s brow furrowed furiously and he lowered his voice “Master did I get that right? This guy is really good friend’s with one of Yoda’s people but the friend is not the Child’s biological father and they don’t know anyone else from the species?”

“He actually said he was married to one of one of Yoda’s people but other than that your conclusions are correct. Very good Padawan.” Obi-Wan nodded, attempting to wrap his head around the various implications.

Dooku made a triumphant hum, “Then, by simple inductive reasoning, and in the absence of an alternative candidate, we can assume that the Child is, in-fact, Yoda’s offspring.”

“Exactly!” Anakin agreed with Dooku excitedly. 

“Interesting that he would give the spawn to a Mandalorian, rather than the creche. Embarrassment, perhaps.” the Count mused. 

“Unbelievable.” Anakin agreed indignantly. 

“Ok, now hold on. Foundling is pretty literal most of the time-” Obi-Wan interrupted. “Mando- was the child entrusted to you or did was there a rescuing involved?”

“...I was assigned to find him as part of a bounty, but found the imps who I was supposed to give him to...unpleasant.”

“Imps?” Anakin asked. 

“There you go!” Obi-Wan said, with just a tinge of hysteria. “Yoda didn’t abandon the child- not that it necessarily is Yoda’s child- he was kidnapped.”

Anakin gasped, “Master! We have to save him!”

“Hold on now, Anakin- He seems perfectly safe at this point and we were here for the Chancellor remember?”

“You won’t be leaving here with the Chancellor or the child.” Dooku sneered. “I can sense the force potential- and I am in want of a new apprentice.”

“Over my dead body,” Anakin snarled.

“That can be arranged.”

“Hey Luke-” the Mandalorian said into the comm as the three swordsman began circling one another “-it looks like two of the Jedi are attacking the other- do you want me to get involved?”

“...Din, by any chance, are any of the laser swords red?”

“Yeah, the fanciest dressed one has a red lightsaber, the other guys are blue. Does it matter?”

“...Red lightsaber means not Jedi. I- hold on, I think I see you!”

The three combatants jumped apart again, looking up at the slight comm echo to the sound of footsteps and the absolutely blinding force presence of the approaching Jedi. 

Had he never learned shielding? Obi-Wan thought hysterically. “Or was he just so powerful that he never bothered restraining himself?”

He tried to exchange a glance with Anakin, but his padawan was too focused on straining to see the incoming Master force user of some kind- light, but not necessarily Jedi. He instead looked over at Dooku, shrugging in confusion. Dooku grimaced back at him in solidarity.

The being finally entered. He was- significantly taller and less green than Obi-Wan was expecting, but still probably shorter than anyone else in the room.

“Din- are you two alright?” The soft-faced man asked in a remarkably gently voice, appearance somewhat at odds with the overbearing power he exuded.

“We’re fine, Luke but look! More Jedi!” He gestured below. 

Luke peered over the balcony, eyes growing wide as they passed over the faces of everyone below. “hoLY KRIFF!” He shouted.

The ship shuddered and Obi-Wan glanced nervously out the view ports, suddenly remembered that the damaged ship only had so long before it fell out of orbit.

“Do you know them?” Din asked. 

“Do I- for fuck’s sake Din, I love you but I have literally shown you holopics of my father before.” Luke whispered furiously. The room unfortunately was utterly quiet and remarkably acoustic, meaning his words carried easily to the listeners below.

“FATHER!” Anakin yelled, causing Luke to wince, slapping a gloved hand to his face.

“FATHER!” He repeated loudly, head ping-ponging between Obi-Wan and Dooku as if trying to find a resemblance, before gasping to stare at the Chancellor, before gasping again to squint at Obi-Wan. 

“DOES EVERYONE HAVE A SECRET FAMILY!” He shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh for force sake- I do not have a secret son. Honestly, Anakin, he’s clearly in his 20s, be reasonable. His birth would however fit into the timeline of Dooku’s withdraw from the order.” Obi-Wan said, raising a brow.

Dooku puffed out his chest, “I did not fail to meet the Code, like so many of the pathetic masses. Before I left the Order I followed the rules precisely. When my disagreements grew too great, and my attempt for structured reform were repeatedly rejected, I left for ethical reasons, not personal ones. I looked at the code and decided it was failing the Jedi.”

He smirked and lifted his chin at the chancellor, who was watching the proceedings with an inscrutable expression, “My, my Chancellor, this is an interesting surprise.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “We’re not idiots, Dooku. Obviously the boy’s parents were force sensitive, look at him.” 

Dooku’s smirk grew wider.

“This is absurd! Again!” Obi-Wan threw up his arms and lifted his head to address the dark-robed young human, “Hello there, Luke, was it?” 

“Uh, yes. I’m Luke.” The powerhouse responded nervously. 

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi-”

“Yes, I know who you are.” Luke responded drily.

Anakin gasped. 

“He is not my son.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I’m not Obi-Wan’s son.” Luke called down cheerfully.

“Oh.” Anakin slouched, oddly disappointed. He liked this guy for some reason, felt- connected to him. Maybe it was the dark robes, or the force signature that nearly rivaled his own (though it was somewhat lighter), or even the gloved hand that he suspected was mechanical. If he was Obi-Wan’s son than that would make him practically his brother! The Chancellor might be neat but Dooku...ugh.

“Would you be so kind as to tell us whose son you are? I realize its none of my business but you’ve peaked our curiosity. And then afterwards, regardless of your parentage, we would not mind help in rescuing the Chancellor of the Republic from this slowly crashing ship.”

“Right. Right.” Luke nodded. “Would you give me a second?”

He pressed his head to the side of Din’s helmet and started whispering rapidly, to quiet for anyone else to hear. 

The group below exchanged glances, beginning to tense up again. After a few seconds, the Mandalorian nodded and spoke, “Let’s do it. I trust your judgement.” Luke grinned and returned to the edge of the balcony. 

“Ok, I can help with the first, but not the second.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin bristled. “So Dooku is your father.”

Luke smiled at Anakin. “No. You are my father.”

Anakin blinked as Obi-Wan’s face twisted in confusion. “No...” he said slowly. “No, that’s not true. That’s impossible.”

Luke’s smile grew wider, “Search your feelings,” he said urgently, with the full weight of his force presence screaming honesty with every word, “You know it to be true.”

Anakin gasped as he reached out into the force to find...his son. Impossible, but true. The ground trembled, either with the immensity of the realization, or catastrophic engine failure.

“No.” Obi-Wan said clearly to Luke on the balcony.

“No.” He repeated firmly, snapping a finger in Anakin’s face to try and break him out of the trance he seemed to be in. “It’s not true.” He said to the room in general, incredulous it even needed to be said.

Dooku began slowly backing away. The confrontation was rapidly spinning out of his or his Master’s control; he had only stayed this long to indulge vain curiosity. Regardless if the boy was insane, lying, or a time-traveler, he was clearly powerful. The ship’s orbit was gradually decaying and with any luck he could use his dead man’s switch to speed up the crash as he departed, neatly killing everyone who could stand against him in one stroke.

“Anakin,” the lunatic on the balcony continued, “You can destroy the emperor. He has forseen this. It is your destiny! Join me, and together-”

Din cleared his throat.

Luke stopped and smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry! Sorry. Got a little...carried away there.” He coughed awkwardly into his fist.

“Anyway- yeah. I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m from the future, I guess we... time-traveled accidentally somehow? I uh- was kind-of quoting something you said to me once and you kept going along with it and... yeah, definitely got carried away. Sorry, I really don’t know how we got here but, weird stuff happens around me- one time I was on Yavin IV and these ghosts started- anyway. Long story. Surprise!”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok...I might believe you’re Anakin’s son.”

Dooku had nearly reached a side door when his treacherous Master called out- “Anakin! Master Kenobi! Dooku- he’s getting away.”

Skywalker’s- Anakin Skywalker’s- attention snapped over to the Count and with a outstretched arm, he crumpled the steel door, throwing a beam across it for good measure. The ship moaned alarmingly and several more red lights began blinking at the navigation panel, unnoticed by anyone.

“Luke- son- I don’t know what Emperor you’re talking about, but help us defeat Count Dooku and save Chancellor Palpatine! After that- after that I’m happy to, um, join you? And meet your... husband? And padawan? Sorry, we were kind-of in the middle of something...” 

“Wow. Ok. I’m not sure if-” Luke started to respond before being interrupted by the Mandalorian.

“Wait, Dooku! I know that name!” Din said suddenly. “The covert hated him! He was the evil Sif Emperor you defeated, right?”

“...Sith Emperor. Din, darling and light of my life, as always, your grasp of history and recent current events never fails to amaze me.” Luke sighed.

“You must stop him, before he becomes Emperor,” Palpatine shouted desperately. 

Luke sighed again, more heavily. “Fine. FINE! Kriff the timeline, I didn’t ask to be born anyway. Din- go help capture...Emperor Dooku. Grogu- Pod. I’ll go- free the Chancellor.” The floor beneath them gave a lurch. “Before this ship breaks apart. Go!” 

Luke and Din jumped off the balcony as a shiny metal pod with a transparisteel view screen closed around Grogu, hovering between them, well off easy reach of the ground.

Din landed between Obi-Wan and Anakin, helmet turning to face each of them in turn, “...I’ll follow your lead.” He finally said, arming his weapons.

Obi-Wan grinned fiercely, “Excellent, Anakin, stay with me.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

“Mando, you- Is that the DARKSABER- ARE Yoouu- ugh you know what, I will ask after the fight. I will ask after the fight. How did the Mand'alor- NEVERMIND. Let’s just- FORCE I have so many questions-” 

“No time, Master!”

And the battle began. 

#star wars #the mandalorian #my au #invisible hand chaos au #star wars au no 31 #i had so much fun writing this you have no idea #star wars au #time travel #star wars fanfiction

[lacontroller1991]

Stay Alive (Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader)

Anon Request

Summary: You are Anakin’s sister and Obi-Wan’s girlfriend, when you hear that your brother is in trouble, you and Padme are quick to rush to the aid of Anakin, only for Obi-Wan to show up and she helps Obi-Wan fight her brother on Mustafar 

Warning: Character Death

When you first heard the news about Anakin slaughtering all of the Jedis at the temple, you were quick to disbelieve your longtime boyfriend. You looked over at Padme who wasn’t believing what Obi-Wan was saying either.

“Anakin is the father, isn’t he?” Padme hung her head in shame while you rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“I'm so sorry,” taking his leave, he looked over to you, offering a sympathetic smile before taking off.

“Padme, he has to do it,” you whispered as she stood up and stared at you.

“How can you say that? He’s your brother,” she cried out as you shook your head.

“He’s not my brother anymore. The Anakin I know would never kill younglings and you know that. He’s a danger to us all.”

“I’m going to him, he needs my help.”

“Padme, it’s dangerous. You could get hurt,” you replied, trying to reason with your sister-in-law.

“I don’t care, he needs me,” sighing, you glanced at her for a second before standing up.

“Then I’ll go with you.”

Landing on the ship pad, you let out a shaky breath while Padme rushed out into Anakin’s arms while you watched from the side. 

“Obi-Wan told me terrible things,” she started as you eyes our brother cautiously.

“What things?” Anakin asked as she shook her head.

“He said that you turned to the dark side, that you killed younglings,” she stated as he hung his head, it was then that you knew Obi-Wan wasn’t lying. 

“Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me,” he whispered as you felt your boyfriend's force signature.

“He cares about us.”

“Us?”

“He knows. He wants to help you,” Padme whispered as Anakin smirked in denial. You zoned out, feeling conflicting emotion course through your veins. You understand Anakin’s frustration toward the council, hell it was something you struggled with too, only difference was that you talked to Obi-Wan about your feelings. 

“Liar,” the shouting instantly snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked over at Anakin who was now pacing, “you are with him! You brought him here to kill me,” he shouted, holding out his hand and choking Padme.

“Ani! No,” you yelled to your brother who looked a you before bringing up his other hand and repeated the process.

“Let them go, Anakin. Let them go,” Obi-Wan commanded as Anakin let Padme drop to the floor before tossing you against the ship causing you to black out. 

You woke up to bright lights and a humming. You felt numb, weak. Memories of what happened surged through your brain, bringing tears to your eyes as you released a sob. Suddenly a warm hand petted your head as you heard a sushing. Looking over, you saw Obi-Wan who looked like he was trying to keep it together. 

“Where's Padme?” Silence. You could feel it in the force that she was gone.

“I am so sorry darling. Padme is gone,” he replied as tears rolled down your face.

“Her baby?”

“Twins. Luke and Leia,” smiling, he walked over to one of the small baskets and pulled out one of them before placing the newborn in your arms, “this one is Luke,” he mentioned, motioning to the bundle in your arms before continuing, “and this is Leia,” he cooed at the little girl as you weakly smiled.

“They’re strong with the force.”

“I know, that’s what scares me. Darth Vader can’t be able to find them.”

“Ani?” You asked, never hearing the word Vader before.

“Vader. Anakin is no more, you know that.”

“There will always be good in him,” you whispered, careful to not wake the sleeping babies in the room. With sad eyes, you looked at Obi, “we need to split them up.”

“I agree. We will discuss this with Master Yoda and Senator Organa.”

“What about us?”

“We will figure something out, but first we need to stay alive,” he responded, kissing your head as you hoped that everything will be ok.

#obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi-wan #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #reader #reader insert #star wars #Star Wars Revenge of the Sith #Padme Amidala #Anakin Skywalker #padme x anakin #anon request #lacontroller1991

[no-droids]

Just the Translator

Part Ten of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings:  There is rough sex in this.  THERE IS ROUGH SEX IN THIS.  Do NOT read if that offends you.  There is also more anal stuff—NO FUCKING (not yet).  Uh, canon-typical violence, grumpy Din Djarin, some fluffy moments, Baby Yoda being a little troublemaker, bit of a cliffhanger ending BUT NOT TO WORRY PALS I ALREADY GOT QUITE A BIT OF THE NEXT PART WRITTEN

A/N: ***Please take a second to visit this googledoc, in it are useful links regarding the BLM protests and what we can do to help. Here is a separate link to where I originally addressed this and shared more thoughts***

***

Whelp.  At least you’re in a good mood. 

In contrast, Din and the kid have been causing problems all morning, the both of them.  Like two… two annoying, middle-aged children competing to see which one is less mature.

The smaller of the two, and older (most likely) is bouncing with energy.  Acting a complete fool.  Ready and willing to launch out of his restricting little sphere at any second, a bright green bundle of energy that slept way too well last night and is just rubbing it in at this point.  He was fine earlier—checking out of the inn, picking up some food at a local market, riding in the Crest as it navigated towards the most isolated sector on this planet—but the hike to this field has been like pulling teeth.

In fact, Din is currently wearing a singular gauntlet on his left hand for that very reason—so this child’s hyper ass could be contained within the hovering, reflective prison.  He’s restless, though, continuing to act out.  At one point you suggest just letting him walk to let some energy out like yesterday, even if he slows the group down with his tiny little legs.  Once you let the little menace out on parole though, he just continues to veer off in his own direction and irritate his dad even further.

And, oh stars—his dad.

Din has barely said a word, only answering with short responses when directly prompted and spending most of his energy just silently stewing inside his own little grumpy teapot on his head.  The helmet is the only other piece of armor he’s donning besides the lone vambrace, and you’re surprised steam hasn’t started whistling through the top of it with how frustrated he is, how many times you’ve seen him curl his hands with impatience. At first it was amusing, though you know better than to tease him about it right now.  You keep your mouth shut and try your best to wrangle the kid, doing everything you can to be helpful while also steering clear of unintentionally exacerbating his silent irritation, knowing Din isn’t in the mood for jokes after being interrupted at a very crucial moment last night.  The sun shines directly on the front of his helmet and blinds you with every single annoyed step, so you follow just far enough behind him and try to use his enormous refrigerator of a body to shield your eyes.

At first it was amusing.  But then the baby catches sight of a gorgeously patterned butterfly floating through the field that he probably wants to snack on for breakfast, and he breaks off from your entourage once more with a quiet little coo that should strike pure terror into the hearts of small animals everywhere.

Immediately you’re turning to go get him—but then a large hand quickly snatches the front of your shirt before you can take a single step, pulling until you’re colliding with an unarmored chest with an oof.  

A bare hand catches your jaw and tightens until you’re staring deep into the thin blade of his visor, before Din whispers rough through the modulator, “As soon as he falls asleep.”

That’s all he says.  And then he’s releasing you and letting you stumble back towards his wayward son a whole lot less amused than you were before, and a whole lot more achy.  The baby shenanigans are far less amusing too.

“You’re killing me here, kiddo,” you breathe after quickly catching up with him, having to bend in half to lead him back towards his impatient dad. 

His hot, moody… incredibly well endowed dad, thick arms crossed tight over his chest as he waits for your return.

The monster’s hand lifts high above him as his three fingers cling to just one of yours, the baggy brown sack exposing his pudgy little green elbow as he follows next to you with a waddle.  It’s slow going, but at some point he decides to pull himself up onto your wrist and you catch him, cradling him in your arms before quickly hurrying back to Din.

Thankfully he begins to calm down a little after that.  As you three eventually find a spot in the endlessly breezy field to settle into, the kid clamors back into his shield while Din carelessly drops the dark bag of supplies he carried from the Crest into the tall grass.  You twist your back to let some of the stiffness out, rotating your arms to encourage more movement as he approaches.

“Same thing as yesterday,” he gruffs when he’s in reach, patting his chest again with a bare hand.  “Hard as you can.”

“My… My hands hurt,” you eventually admit, not wanting to frustrate him even more and hoping you would be able to work on blocking today instead, but Din just nods while you gently brush your thumb along your sore knuckles.

“That’ll happen until it doesn’t,” he tells you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow in a quick, awkward gesture of comfort and then dropping his arm to his side.  Short, but not unkind.  “Push through.  You can do it.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the very best motivation you’ll get from him.  His beliefs, condensed down to quick, stunted sentences, presented with such unwavering surety that they must be truths.  Weirdly, it works wonders for you.  Maybe it’s just the person it’s coming from.

You drop into stance and then slam your fist into his chest before he’s ready, and Din steps back on impact with a small grunt while you bite your lip to silence your own noise from the pain reverberating up your arm. 

“Good,” he huffs nonetheless, rubbing the spot on his chest he’s historically designated as target practice.  “Good.  You’re… hitting harder than yesterday.  That’s… fuck.  Good.”

“Good?”  You ask lowly, chancing a quick look over at the kid.  Who blinks directly back at you, wide-eyed and staring purposefully from his crib.  You deflate just a little bit at the sight of him still wide awake, and Din’s fists are clenched by his sides when you turn back to him.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the pent up tightness in his body as you spend the next couple hours throwing more hits at him, different types.  Left hooks, right hooks, crosses, jabs, elbow strikes, palm heels.  He was absolutely right though—the more you make contact with him, the less you begin to feel the pain, until it eventually feels like nothing at all to you.

But then, at one point, you pull your hardened fist back, aimed and focused directly on that same spot on his chest once more—when suddenly his hand flashes up and he flicks his finger against the lower part of your open ribcage. 

He barely puts any strength into it at all—it’s the pressure you’d use to tap someone on the shoulder if you were trying to get their attention, but for some reason the incredibly well-placed reminder throws you.  A little fucking touch like that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does, but you nearly tip sideways and have to catch your footing with how dizzy it makes you.

“That’s what’s called a liver shot,” Din tells you calmly, watching you wrap your hand around your ribcage and wince at the lingering pain through gritted teeth.  “Keep your arm down like I told you.  That’ll happen every time you wanna get lazy with me, little chicken wing.”

You hiss and shake your head a little bit, trying to clear the fog, and then purposefully tuck both arms tight to your sides.  But then—

His hand flashes up again and taps the side of your face this time—not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch on instinct and take a step back.  “That arm stays up.”

Your quick huff of air is suppressed.  Somewhat censored—it doesn’t duly portray the sharp flare of annoyance you experience.  You do exactly what he says, however, and keep your arms in position in front of you.

But then you jerk back and sputter angrily when the tips of his fingers lightly connect with your cheek once more.  “Stop that!  My hands are up!”

“Then why’d you let me do it?”  He asks, stepping up as you retreat to poke you square in your chest.  “Stop letting me do it.”

He goes to tap your face again, but this time your forearm comes up to swat his away before he can make contact, and he seems pleased for the moment.  Din steps back and hits his chest again.  “Come on.”

He lets you get in just a few more blows before coming at you again.  You smack his hand away and then go to throw another punch, but he’s quick.  He cheats—goes for you twice in a row when you’re not expecting it, and taps the vulnerable spot on your side for the second time today.  It hits you like a bullet and takes you a second to snap out of the abrupt shot of pain.

“Come on,” Din taunts once more, curling his mismatched fingers at you—one hand leathered and the other tan and bare.  He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet, starting to enjoy this way too fucking much.  It makes your blood boil, makes you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds and fume at his audacity.

Apparently you take too long getting pissed off at him.  He comes at you first, going for your side again, but you shove his arm out of the way with a growl.  Except his other arm flashes and you react instantly, ducking under the wide, careful swipe aimed for your cheek and then zeroing in on the same exact spot below his ribs he’s been torturing you with all day, the one left wide open while his arm misses its mark.

Except—yours isn’t a tap, or a flick.  It’s a hard uppercut.

Air rushes through the modulator as he groans and stumbles sideways, gasping and trying to steady himself.  Triumph surges through your veins as you watch him, shaking your hand out at your side to quickly encourage the numbness away, your knuckles not yet used to hitting bone.  He clutches his side and shakes the helmet violently in an effort to regain himself, breathing hard through the filter and—

The visor instantly jerks to you and you’re already taking a step back on instinct, adrenaline roaring.  He snaps upright as you continue to retreat—until you trip over yourself and plunge to the grass.

A reflection catches in your peripheral, and you whip your head to the side to see the kid completely passed out in his metallic cradle, eyes closed and mouth drooping a bit.  The sight shoots pure exhilaration through you, but it’s nothing compared to the thrill of only seeing him there for a split second before chrome shields instantly slide shut over his head.

You look back to Din just in time to see him dropping his gloved hand back down to his side and taking quick steps towards you—and you react without thinking.  You scramble over on your hands and knees and then launch forwards before you’re even halfway off the ground, finding your feet as you stumble into a run and hearing footsteps pick up behind you.

Maker, it’s been ages since you’ve run like this.  You don’t even know why you’re running—you just do, it just feels like you should.  Your body barrels through tall grass and your heart thunders faster than the sound of your pumping legs, louder than the wind whipping through your ears.  You don’t know if he purposefully allows you to get this far or if you’re genuinely quick—

—nope.  Nope, you’re not quick, because he suddenly bursts into a sprint behind you and gains way too much ground way too quickly.  You try to break left as soon as you realize what’s happening, but he’s too fast and hooks an arm around your stomach just before you’re out of reach.  Din yanks you back to his chest as he twists around and takes you both to the ground, his shoulder blades slamming down first and softening your landing with his whole body and a grunt, skidding you both to a halt in the endlessly wavy field.

The wind is knocked out of you regardless.  You try and struggle off of him but the positioning makes it almost impossible—your abdominal muscles are no match for the strength of his arms wrapped around your stomach, keeping your body pinned tight to his as you wrestle to lift against him in the grass.

“Fight harder,” Din growls raggedly in your ear, and your pussy seizes with need when you feel how rock hard he is against your ass.  It encourages you—you make a rough sound towards the sky and then lift against him with all your strength, and your elbow comes down hard into his ribcage.  Air whooshes out of him and his arms loosen just slightly.  You’re able to wiggle off him and start crawling away, but then he heaves over and snatches at your pant leg—

Which means you pull them down yourself as you keep clawing yourself forward by your arms, raw excitement coursing through your veins, the fabric pulling tight over your ass and then bunching around your thighs.  You squeal and flounder and kick at him—but Din just grabs at your ankle and then pins your leg to the ground, pushing up and using your calves to clamor on top of you with brute strength, catching your underwear and ripping them down too.  Your heart pounds and your pussy just about floods itself hearing him dig in his pants to pull his cock out, his breath coming heavy through the helmet.

Maker, you’re so fucking ready for it.  You keep struggling just because your body is telling you to, but nothing close to the word ‘stop’ ever leaves your mouth, never even comes to mind.  You feel wetness slicking your inner thighs as Din grunts and plants an arm next to your head, his bare hand shooting out to hover in front of your face.  You flinch—but he keeps it there, palm open in front of your lips in silent expectation.

“Wet or dry,” he snarls when you don’t immediately react.  “I don’t give a shit.”

Still, his hand stays right in front of your face long enough to let you make up your mind.

And… not lick it.

After a moment, Din makes a sound that drops another wave of white hot arousal down through your stomach—a furious, growly noise that resembles distorted static passing through the filter.  He angles his cock against your opening and when you hear him muttering angrily, you think he’s scolding you for it.  Calling you dirty under his breath, promising you you’ll regret saying that in a second.  But no—he’s—

“Perfect.  Perfect little girl, fucking perfect,” Din hisses darkly, pushing into your soaking entrance without anything but your slick to ease his way.  “H-How are you—s-so fuck—ing—”

Oh Maker, you turn your head into the grass and cry out through the delicious, blissful intrusion, pushing your hips back against his—and Din curses as he quickly bottoms out, making sure he lurches fully into you before his hands find out exactly where they want to be.  They land on your lower back and he mounts up, pinning your body hard to the ground with almost his full weight.  It means you can rip out as much grass with your useless arms as you want—he doesn’t even give you a single moment now that he’s successfully rooted you to the crushed greenery.  You bloom for him all the same, as soon as Din pulls out with a wet sound and then starts fucking you strong and steady.

It’s sharp.  Biting.  Even the pleasure has a hard edge to it, completely paralyzing you even if you could struggle in this position.  His hands are pushing down so hard that the ground digs into your tummy and makes his cock angle and slam right into your g-spot each and every time.  You want to moan out your ecstasy but he’s wringing the air from your lungs with every shattering swing of his hips back and forth, quickly speeding up as he goes and taking out a full night’s worth of deprivation on you.

“Ngh.  Take.  Cock.  So.  Fucking.  Good—” Din grits with every mean thrust, the staccato growls of praise getting lost in the echoing, rhythmic clap of his hips.  You can’t fucking breathe—the pleasure is too overwhelming, your face is pressed into the grass, he’s got almost all his weight on you.  You’re helpless to do anything besides close your eyes, furrow your brows, drop your jaw, and just let him own your body in the middle of this beautiful oasis.  The heavy, wild thrusts steal every sense away from you, any ability to think beyond the fractured piece of heaven he’s striking inside you over and over.  You don’t even feel him grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them—

Somebody makes a pitiful, breathless whine—it’s you, you realize.  You make that sound, because worn leather lands right on the entrance he was denied last night and shamelessly breaches it before anything else can interrupt him.

“Tight,” he hisses, slowly sinking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle while you clench your eyes shut and choke out his name, “—f-fucking tight—”

His cock pulses inside you and you bear down as hard as you can on it in return, trying to get accustomed to being penetrated in two places at once.  He doesn’t move his thumb after that—he just keeps it there, deep inside you while he continues wrecking you with the brutal hammering of his hips from behind. 

Still—the impropriety of it starts to burn you up, how… dirty it is.  Getting the life fucked out of you in broad daylight, in the middle of a wide open field, the thickest finger he has buried deep in your ass, helpless to do anything else besides lay here and let him—you feel yourself start to clamp down, steadily getting tighter and tighter around the intrusions while he grits out hard curses and keeps giving it to you through the rapid build.

His name—you start repeating it into the ground like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.  The word scrapes from your throat over and over, and you try to pull at the grass but your hands are clenched into fists and you can’t seem to remember which muscles to use to open them.

“You like this?”  You’re able to hear him grit from above you.  “Like when I—fuck—when I fuck you l-like this?  When I just.  H-Hold you down and take—” he chokes, “—take what I w-want—”

You can’t respond, but fuck yes, you do.  The kindling spark inside you suddenly flares up and starts to spread through your body like wildfire, tightening, tightening, tightening, but then—

He’s so pent up—Din cums.

Devastatingly early.

The savage thrusts suddenly stutter to a halt and the gasp he takes in sounds like it physically hurts him.  Like the orgasm is just ripped out of him.  His hold turns to steel on you, as if he thinks you can somehow get away right now, and Din cums deep inside your spasming cunt with a shuddering, desperate groan of your name. 

It’s like it drains everything from him—he slumps, just conscious enough to slowly ease his thumb out of your tight asshole, and then he collapses in the grass next to you.  You stay there for just a second and shake next to him, muscles feeling like they’re creaking even while just laying on the ground like this, completely motionless.

“Shit—was that—”  Din pants, turning and scooting over to you to brush your hair out of your face with his bare hand, “was that… okay?  Do you… do you need…?”

You’re still so submissive, still so high on the overwhelming rush of pleasure, your mouth opens and croaks out a response without your permission.  “It was good.”

“Yeah?”  He huffs, dropping back on the grass and trying to catch his breath.  “Good.”

And… it’s true.  It was good, it was absolutely fucking amazing.  So overpowering, such a hard fuck that you almost don’t think about the fact that you didn’t actually cum from it.  The thought doesn’t really even register with you fully, not yet.

Eventually you both push yourselves up, each of you equally lacking in energy, just in different ways.  Din looks like he’s drunk—unbalanced and dizzy while he removes his glove and stuffs it into one of his pockets, before carefully tucking his spent cock back in his trousers.  In contrast, you’re nothing more than another trembling blade of grass in an enormous landscape of them, flimsy and yielding to the powerful, rippling wind as you attempt to adjust your clothing.

It’s fine, you tell yourself on the slow, quiet walk back.  Sex doesn’t always need to end in a fiery orgasm.  Sometimes a rough pounding hits the spot, scratches that itch.  You feel like you’re a newborn blurg trying to balance your oddly proportioned weight on two noodle legs as Din’s hand patiently guides you from your lower back, and a bright flare of arousal arcs through you feeling how gentle his hold is compared to the way his cum is steadily leaking from your throbbing, aching cunt.

You don’t need to cum every single time he fucks you.  It’s fine.

***

Upon returning to the sight of the unbothered, napping kid, you both decide to walk a bit more, and you learn your lesson this time.  The sun glints bright against Din’s left side while traveling in this direction, so you stick purposefully to his right the entire time.

In the meantime, you share easy conversation and attempt to regain some semblance of control over your still slightly… restless body.  Slowly but surely, your feverish arousal for him dims and fades to the backburner, replaced instead by… softer, quieter feelings.  There’s not a solid word for it, not really.  If you were mixing on a palette, you’d start out with a base of gentle contentment and then add a big dollop of affection, diluted with silence until it’s a swirling, pastel… color you don’t have a name for, but cherish all the same.

The baby wakes up about halfway through the afternoon hike, and he’s better now too.  Eventually your ragtag party finds a place to settle for the night—a small clearing in the field at the edge of a thick forest.  There’s a sizable log and boulder situated relatively close together, with a wide open space to make a fire in the center.

Din disappears for a bit to go get some firewood from the looming forest while you entertain the kid; the log is tilted perfectly to allow you both to watch the sunset, and you easily converse with the riveting baby talk as if he’s an absolute genius.

“I’m not so sure about that, honestly,” you tell him diplomatically, receiving nothing but unintelligible babbles in response as he climbs all over you.  “Well, no actually, because there’s two major schools of thought concerning that, the first being—”

He pops up in front of your face to interrupt you heatedly and you scoff, rolling your eyes over the loud gibberish.  “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could tone down the passive-aggressiveness, okay?  If we can’t have a respectful discussi—”

Three green fingers settle over your lips and you gasp at the nerve of him, forced to let him continue to ramble on your lap about absolutely nothing at all, the size of his ego soon growing to match the size of his ears.

“Hear that, shiny?”  You turn your head and ask his father upon his eventual return, and Din grunts distractedly as he dumps the firewood down and rummages around in the bag for a lighter.  Tilting your head back towards the kid, you prompt him with a raised brow.  “Tell him what you just told me.”

The baby bursts into more nonsense, encouraged by your attention, and Din crouches down to set the wood into position in the dusky twilight glow while saying nothing at all, and it somehow manages to pass as listening intently.

It continues to go on like that far longer than you expected it would, the baby apparently having quite the bone to pick about something that’s been on his mind, and one point you have to rest your hand over his mouth so he finally stops babbling.  “Hey, that’s not very nice,” you scold him quietly.  “I’m sure his face is perfectly normal under there.”

The helmet turns just slightly towards you, unamused while you snort at your own joke for a little bit. 

“I didn’t say it,” you remind him after far too long of just celebrating your own hilarity, clearing your throat through the stifled chuckles.  “I’m just translating.”

“Oh yeah?”  He eventually murmurs, beginning to ignite some of the crumpled twigs at the center of the pile, and if you worked at it, you could probably convince yourself he’s sharing your gentle smile.  More muted than yours perhaps, but beautiful and easy on his face, fitting him simply and perfectly.  “What did… What did he say I look like?”

You would’ve shot something ridiculous back at him, something snarky and facetious, but you stop short.  You catch it—underneath his voice, it sounds… timid, almost.  Uncertain.  It makes you take just a second in responding.

“Brown eyes,” you tell him after a moment, and Din doesn’t visibly react, just continues to slowly add small branches to kindle the flame.  It’s so quiet out here, but it’s different from hyperspace quiet.  This quiet is… natural.  Warm, and.  Free.  Fleeting, allowed to roam.  In a way that hyperspace just feels compact, stifling.  “He said you have… brown eyes.  And a… a strong bone structure, striking features.  A sharp, chiseled jaw, dark facial hair.  And, uh.  He also said…”

Din keeps silently feeding the fire until it’s crackling and bright, and then he settles back on his butt next to it, both elbows resting on his knees, not moving the visor towards you but waiting for you to finish regardless. 

The stunning backdrop gives way to a stunning surge of bravery.

“He said you make a bunch of faces under there that nobody ever sees,” you say softly, blinking at Din in the fading twilight while the kid sits silently in your lap.  “That you’re an open book.  Behind a metal wall.  And you have a really nice smile, I bet—he bets… he bets you probably do it more often than anyone realizes.  And your… your hair starts to curl when you let it grow long, and.  And you’re almost guaranteed to be drop dead gorgeous under there, and it’s a real fucking shame that you’ve probably never had anyone tell you it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you, looks at you for a long time—long enough for blood to rush to your cheeks and for you to get fidgety.  But when he finally does respond, his voice is gentle through the modulator.  “He said that.”

You mhm at him quickly, nodding your head and turning away as casually as you can, heart beating incredibly fast for some reason.  “Just the translator.”

A lovely silence soon blankets the both of you, a warmth permeating through to your bones that has nothing to do with the steadily growing fire.

***

A little while later, the kid has retired to his reflective cradle and the dancing flames are the only source of light besides the bright moon hanging directly overhead.  Din sits with his back to the large boulder and digs through the bag, pulling out all sorts of food you picked up before leaving the village this morning and handing them to you.  Something red and unfocused flashes oddly against the curve of his helmet when he reaches his hand back in, but it’s only for a second—he’s already pushing more food at you and filling your arms with bags of dried meats, fresh fruit, and loaves of bread.

“Stars,” you whisper under your breath, examining the feast in the flickering firelight.  “Here, take—take some of this, it’s too much.”

“There’s more in here,” he counters lowly, zipping the bag and dropping it somewhere on the other side of his body.  “The kid hasn’t eaten all day.  Might crawl away and catch himself a Gungan later if you don’t feed him soon.”

“No, I mean—” you let all the food drop into your lap and start sorting the items, “—you need to eat.  What do you want?  There’s plenty.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers, far too quickly to have actually taken a moment to check.  “Just give me whatever you two don’t eat when you’re finished, I’ll put it back in the bag.”

Okay, if he’s gonna play it like this, you’ll just have to choose for him.  You’ve already dedicated at least two bags of dried meat to the kid, which takes care of him.  So, you take an extended moment to methodically find the ripest fruit in the bunch, the one with the most squish to it, and then search for the softest loaf of bread, not caring that Din is silently watching you.  You gather both of them in your arms and then pluck three bags of meat from the pile, before depositing all of them back into his lap.

“Eat,” you urge quietly, grabbing another portion of food for yourself, heavy on the fruit.  “Don’t inhale it.  Please.”

With that, you grab the kid’s food and then scoop the little guy up from his shield with your free arm, standing and walking to the other side of the fire.  You carefully plop yourself down with your back purposefully to Din, the kid happily finding a place on your lap with his back to you and reaching six little fingers out for the food.

You start eating, and after a moment, you smile around the large bites of fruit at the sound of metal clinking against stone.  The baby, of course, refuses to even open the bag of dried meat you set in front of him, so you roll your eyes and do it yourself, hoping he’ll at least eat like an adult and give you some time to feed yourself.  But no—the fifty year old creep demands to be hand fed, and any other day, you wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

Today, you’re just really fucking.  Happy.

You’re unbelievably happy.  Having spent a few days on this gorgeous planet, your two favorite people in the galaxy with you.  It fills your heart with air.

You start out quiet, praying you aren’t bothering Din as he (hopefully) continues to relax and enjoy his food behind you.  You begin humming your favorite melody under the sound of the crackling flames, the source of heat burning pleasantly against the curve of your lower back, setting another piece of dried meat into the kid’s cute little mouth and only just slightly annoyed that he refuses to do this himself.  Admittedly though, you do love babying him, especially when he shows you his adorable little chompers.

One bite for him, two bites for you.  That’s the deal, even though you’re hungry and you deserve way more than double his food intake rate.  You try to be quiet enough that your gentle humming will get lost with the fire between you and Din, and he never says anything or tells you to cut it out, so you just continue to let your cheerful mood provide a quiet soundtrack to the moonlit evening.

Even better, you and the kid actually finish snacking before he does, and you’re more than willing to wait for him, thrilled that this is actually happening.  It’s so simple, such a throwaway thing, but.  Knowing he used to eat his meals as quick as he can and now he’s comfortable enough to just take a second and enjoy it… you don’t know, there’s something inherently meaningful about it, something that you specifically notice.  Something about this, about sitting around a fire and sharing a meal together for the first time—even with your back turned to him, it just feels… familial.  In a way.  More than it’s ever felt before.

You have a little moment.  It’s nice.  You drop your head back and gaze up at the night sky, in awe of how different the stars look from this side of the galaxy and remembering how far you’ve come.  The kid follows suit, leaning back against your tummy and blinking silently at the universe, the star-speckled sky reflecting in his gigantic dark eyes.

He starts to doze after awhile, listening to you hum softly to yourself, but the noise of a helmet finally lifting from the boulder and most likely fitting itself back in its rightful place snaps him awake just enough.  The kid pushes off you and waddles over to his dad, and you scoot yourself back over to your little log while he unceremoniously clamors up onto Din’s thighs.

Admittedly, it’s really fucking cute.  The visor moves just enough to watch him plop his little green butt down and find a comfy position on his lap, not helping but not preventing the movement either.  A heartwarming, silent kind of tolerance hardened men have for innocent little creatures that makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.  What a softie.

You sit there in companionable quiet, staring deep into the dancing firelight and losing track of time just a bit.  They’re hypnotic, the flames.  Crackling and popping, warming just the forward-facing parts of you and nearly burning your cheeks, but you love it.  Breathing in the woodsy campfire air, hearing the gentle breeze float through the field surrounding you, the quiet forest waving dark and deep in the distance.  The midnight sky stretches long above you and the stars seem… brighter than they were on Arvala-7.  They probably aren’t—that planet is practically abandoned and has almost no light pollution whatsoever compared to Naboo, but… maybe it’s because now they feel… in reach.  Something you can touch.  Interact with.  Something you can cover your eyes, blindly point at, and then say—that one.  That’s where we should go next.

After awhile—you have no idea how long—you blink your gaze over to Din and startle to find the helmet facing you directly, shamelessly, the kid completely passed out on his lap as the flames reflect in the visor.

Without intending to, you’re already thinking back to earlier today.  How quickly he bolted after you, how strong he was bringing you to the ground, pinning you under him and taking what was so rudely denied to him last night.

You didn’t actually finish, and you can still feel it simmering down low.  Din’s cum has been steadily leaking from you all day, and while you eventually became successful at blocking out the sensation, it suddenly slams to the forefront of your mind again.  The visor pierces deep into you while you start to squirm just a bit against the rough log pressed into your back.  You can still feel him when you flex your lower muscles, and you bite your lip and do it repeatedly while blinking at him, waiting, squeezing your thighs together and loving the reminder.

He still hasn’t said anything to you, and you start to get antsy under his stare.  Your body works itself up even more, fueled by the flames reflecting in his helmet.  After a few more moments of silent tension, you’ve finally had enough.

“Din,” you whisper, trying not to make it sound like a whine and his head quickly lifts when you didn’t even realize it was slightly tipped forward.  The helmet rolls back in a drowsy little circle, as if his neck is suddenly remembering the weight burdening it.  Embarrassment instantly floods you.  “Oh.  Shit.  I’m so stupid.  I’m sor—”

Only he’s already pushing himself up with his free arm, lethargic and drunk with exhaustion, not saying a single word as he sets the conked out kid in the cradle and closes the shield over his sleepy little head with the push of a button.

You bite your lip as he drags himself over to you, swinging a leg behind you and then dropping down without any ceremony, firmly inserting himself between the uncomfortable log and your back.  Your butt is shoved forward from the sudden displacement but he’s not done.  Din wraps both his arms around you and pulls, dragging you up onto his long torso while his legs close under you and you’re off the ground completely.

Oh Maker, he’s already thousands of times more comfortable than sleeping up against the log would be.  He makes the best bed in the galaxy, big and warm and firm under you, letting you stretch out long on him.  You lounge on his lap and drop your head to his shoulder, resting your arms on top of his as they drape heavy across your belly.

“Sorry,” he gruffs, voice low and rough through the modulator.  The filter rings sharp through your ear when it’s pressed up against his helmet like this.  “Just need a few hours.  Didn’t… didn't sleep great last night.”

You close your eyes and internally scold yourself, now taking responsibility for his lack of rest for the past two days.  Shit.  You don’t actively respond, feeling slightly put out, but your body is of another mind altogether.  It still continues trundling down the steep slope you shoved it towards earlier, when you stupidly thought he was giving you eyes under the helmet instead of him being passed out cold.  You wiggle against him just slightly under the guise of finding a comfortable position, but it has unintentional consequences.

You breathe out a soft sigh when your hips move over his cock, biting your lip at the sensation but trying so hard to stop it in its tracks.  He’s exhausted, and he already fucked the life out of you today, there’s no way he’ll want to go again this soon.  Except—then he shifts and mmms low in his throat.

“And you,” Din murmurs quietly, reaching a hand down to slowly push under your pants, “need to start being more honest with me.”

“What are you t—oh, stars,” you whisper, your body shuddering as one of his thick fingers slowly dips into your slit.

“Shit, you’re wet,” he groans, sinking his hand down lower to feel remnants of himself still easing its way out of you.  Your lashes flutter as your jaw drops, and his cock gets hard against your spine almost immediately.  “You’re fucking… soaked.  I—I asked if you came and you said yeah,” he whispers low to you, but you shake your head.  “Why’d you lie to me abo—”

“No, no—” you protest breathlessly, “—you asked if it was okay, and then I said—”

“You said it was good.  It’s not good if you didn’t cum,” he grunts quietly, and the tip of his finger now drawing tight circles over your clit makes it damn near impossible to argue.  “I didn’t fuck you right if you didn’t cum.  You should be fucked right.”

“Maker, you fuck me exactly how I need to be fucked,” you whimper, tilting your head until your lips are pressed against the curve of his helmet while his hand steadily works under your pants.  “And—oh, fuck, that’s… h-however you need to fuck me.”

“Fuck—obedient little thing…” he huffs, starting to rub harder over your clit.  “What I need is for you to cum.  From now on, you’ll tell me.  Say yes.”

“Yes,” you moan into the beskar, your eyes fluttering back at the slowly building pressure.

“Say, ‘yes, Din,’” he breathes.

“Yes, Din,” you dutifully repeat, lifting your hips up against his hand, and he groans softly through the modulator.

“Say, ‘Din, I need something to cum on’,” he whispers.

You’re delirious, you don’t even catch it before most of it is already out of your mouth.  “Din, I need something to c—” you cut off but he’s already reaching down between your bodies to ease his cock out, before yanking your pants down your ass just enough to position himself up against your entrance.

He rocks his hips up and he slides in easier than ever before, and you… don’t know what you’re expecting, but he surprises you nonetheless.  He doesn’t start thrusting into you at all.  Even though he’s rock hard inside you, thick and pulsing and breaking you open, he doesn’t move a single inch.  He just keeps himself there, continuing to rub circles around your clit and giving you exactly what he prompted you to ask for.

Something to cum on.

Your body tenses and squeezes him, and Din shushes you before you realize you were making noise.  His free hand comes up to settle tight over your mouth and guide you turn your head away from his helmet.  At first you think it’s because your heavy breathing was probably fogging the visor up, but no—his fingers leave your pussy for a split second and you hear him maneuver himself out of it.  The hollow noise it makes thunking to the ground is beginning to become your favorite sound in this universe.

But then of course, Din buries his face into your neck and starts talking again, whispering low praises behind your ear with that bassy, dark chocolate rasp, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing.  His fingers return to your cunt to slowly rub your clit and his cock throbs hotter than sin inside you, building your pleasure into a strong, slow crescendo.

You start to whimper unintentionally, but his hand is wrapped tight around your mouth, muting and confining the desperate sounds to your throat.  His finger presses down harder on your clit and his cock flexes inside you.

“That’s it, sw—sweet girl,” Din mutters, his voice interrupted by his own staccato breaths and tight gasps the longer he talks you through it, the longer he keeps himself perfectly still while engulfed in your drenched, fluttering cunt.  “That’s—that’s it, I can feel it c-coming.  Fuck—make it good for me, give me a good one—”

His words shove you right over a cliff you didn’t even realize was there until you were dangling over the steep drop for an extended moment like a cartoon.  Everything squeezes around him unbearably tight—your hands dig into his forearms, your back arches up against him, your pussy constricts his thick cock until you feel like you’re hurting the both of you with it, and Din’s breath catches next to your ear while you’re both suspended in thin air for a split second—

—before you’re convulsing in pure bliss, flooding his cock with cum while he rasps out, “good girl,” into the crook of your neck and rocks his hips up into yours.  The few heavenly inches of movement hits something jaw-dropping inside you and nearly makes you scream against his palm, launching your body even higher into mind-bending rapture.  Fucking Maker, you cum hard for him, on him, around him.  You downright drown his cock in your pleasure, suffocate it and work out the aching tightness in your pussy all over him until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mmm…” Din murmurs quietly, continuing to circle your swollen clit hard through the shattering aftershocks.  His voice is deep and sinful and vibrates your whole back with its frequency, but something underneath it also sounds as if he’s considering, before he seems to land on an answer to a wordless question he just asked himself.  “…One more.”

And, like the fucking Maker himself commanded it, another blazing hot wave of fire suddenly rips you apart and sends you spasming rhythmically around the throbbing cock buried inside you once again.  This one wrings you completely dry, robbing you of every sense.  The ragged whine you make behind his hand must be too loud—his fingers quickly tighten around your jaw and lock down, keeping you as still as possible while you give him everything you have to give.

Eventually the sparks die out and you’re left a shell of what you once were, clamping down hard on him and shuddering your bliss at the night sky.  He lays there silently under you, holding you as you fall back down to reality.  Your breathing is a mess and so is everything below your waist, and your whole body jerks when Din carefully slides his hand from your pussy and rubs gently over your thighs, your tummy, your chest.

“That was…” you croak out, trying to remember how to speak, “ … g-good.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck.  You can hear the gentle grin he’s hiding from you, knowing he completely incapacitated you.

“But what about—” you start to protest, when Din’s teeth sink into your flesh and your pussy seizes up tight around him, making him choke a hoarse little groan into your skin.

After a moment, he eases his throbbing cock out of you, and he resets your clothing while you whimper in distress.  “Go to sleep,” Din murmurs, before softly kissing your neck once more, and your eyes slowly droop against your will.  Fuck, his body beats a king size mattress any day of the week.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

He…

He isn’t.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars

[x-childish-x]

obi wan x femreader fanfic idea where they go with padme to mustafar to confront anakin. after force choking padme, anakin’s like “you turned her against me! now i shall take away what you love most” and at first obi wan’s confused, “what i love most?” then he realizes anakin’s talking about reader. reader starts to be force choked by anakin and then obi wan says prompt #22 from the main prompts.

What You Love Most

Pairing: Obi-Wan x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: force choking!, angsty Anakin, fluff, soft!Obi-Wan, Padme dies

Word Count: 1,476

A/N: Hello lovely Anon! This was really fun to write, and was such an incredibly interesting idea! I really hope you enjoy this and that it's what you wanted. Thank you so much for the request! Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated and welcomed! (e/c): eye color

Summary: Anakin tries to get revenge for Obi-Wan "turning" Padme against him, and you're both left to deal with the aftermath of the Sith's decision.

(gif not mine!)

You glanced toward C-3PO before rushing out of the ship after Padme. You watched as Anakin wrapped her up in his arms, your arm slowly twitching back towards your lightsaber, but you forced yourself to remain calm. Padme was your best friend, you knew you couldn't harm Anakin while she was still here, but everything Obi-Wan told you made it extremely tempting.

You stopped a few feet away from the pair, listening silently, and at the mention of Obi-Wan's name, Anakin's gaze flicked up. His eyes landed on you. His glare was so intense it left you feeling nauseous, feeling like Anakin thought you shouldn't be alive. You gave a soft nod of acknowledgment to the younger boy, your face neutral as he looked back to Padme.

As Anakin's speech continued, you felt yourself getting more riled, the idea of justice getting hard to keep away. Padme turned her head, using her peripheral vision to ensure you were still behind her as she slowly backed up, realizing how crazy Anakin was beginning to sound. Your hand locked around your lightsaber hilt as Anakin yelled at Padme, the urge to protect her taking over your body, not causing you to spare a glance back at Obi-Wan, who had now made his presence known.

"You're with him!" Anakin growled, "You brought him here to kill me!"

"Anakin, stop!" You yelped as he began force-choking Padme.

You went to unleash your lightsaber, prepared to battle the new-come sith, but you felt the force wrap around your waist and begin yanking you back. Obi-Wan's yell for Anakin to let Padme go filled your ears as you realized Obi-Wan was pulling you further away from the deranged boy. He was trying to protect you, pull you out of the line of fire.

A cry escaped your lips as you watched Padme fall. Obi-Wan flinched slightly at your cry, standing in front of you in an attempt to shield you from Anakin.

"You turned her against me!" Anakin screamed, his eyes filled with rage, "Now I shall take away what you love most!"

"What I love most?" Obi-Wan questioned, watching Anakin slide off his robe.

Anakin's eyes locked on you, watching you fight against the force around your waist, trying to get to Padme as tears streamed down your cheek. Obi-Wan's eyes widened, immediately filling with anger and panic as Anakin raised his hand and your gasp filled the air. Your hands fly to your throat, desperately trying to get away from the force on your neck, as the force on your waist drops, and you try to gasp for air.

“If you don’t let her go right now, I swear I will break every bone in your body," Obi-Wan practically growls as he yanks off his robe, his hand flying to his lightsaber.

Your vision is beginning to fill with spots. Your body is panicking, going into fight or flight mode as it tries to keep you alive. Anakin, the little boy you helped Obi-Wan train, is trying to kill you. You realize, as Obi-Wan's eyes meet yours, your hands feel numb now, and your legs surely wouldn't hold you up if it wasn't for Anakin's force around your neck.

Without wasting another second, Obi-Wan lunges at Anakin, shocking his old Padawan, who didn't expect his Master to make the first move. The shock makes the younger boy let go of you, and you crash to the ground, a wretched gasp for air leaving your lips. Tears begin to rush quicker down your cheeks as you struggle to gain focus again, your vision completely blurry as your ears just barely register the sound of lightsaber's clashing together. You struggle, trying to crawl to Padme at the very least, but instead, the darkness consumed your vision before you could.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

You groaned slightly at the feeling of your body being moved, jostled awake by the movement. 

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan's voice whispered, his eyes locked on your face in worry.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, "Obi-Wan?"

You winced. Your voice sounded terrible. Cracking and hoarse, you sounded like you'd screamed for hours, making Obi-Wan frown, "Yes... I'm here."

"Don't..." You winced again, your throat burning, "Leave me."

Obi-Wan nodded. The distraught look on your face was more than enough to have him cradling you in his lap as he flew to Master Yoda. You'd fallen unconscious again, and although your force life was strong, Obi-Wan was immensely worried about you. He handed you off to Bail Organa, rushing back onto the ship to get Padme. 

The next time you awoke, you felt significantly better than the last time, and you smiled as R2-D2's beeps filled the air. Looking down, you spotted the droid at the side of your bed, whistling and beeping far too fast for you to understand, as you were still learning binary. 

"Good morning, sleepy," Obi-Wan teased, a smile on his lips as he entered the room.

"Morning," You mumbled back. Your voice sounded much better but was still sore, making you wince, "Thanks for saving me."

Obi-Wan walked further in, coming to sit on the side of your bed and grab one of your hands, "They said your throat will still be sore for a while."

You nodded, squeezing Obi-Wan's hand as a desperate feeling filled your body, "Where is Anakin? And Padme? What happened? Where are we?"

"Calm down," Obi-Wan smiled, projecting calming feelings through the force to you, "Anakin's... he's gone. I had to... he couldn't be saved anymore."

You frowned, squeezing the man's hand once more as you pushing comforting feelings to him, "I'm so sorry, Obi... I know how much he meant to you."

Obi-Wan simply nodded, nodding his head, "(Y/n)... Padme's gone... she passed during labor."

You gasped, your eyes widening in horror as you looked away from the older man. You supposed Anakin's visions had been correct. Padme was sentenced to die, but Anakin had never realized he was the reason she died in all his visions. Tears filled your eyes as Obi-Wan shifted, standing up.

"She... she left something for us-- for you. She asked if you would..."

You scrunched your eyebrows, confused by Obi-Wan's sudden nervousness. He quickly left the room before returning with a small bundle of blankets in his arms. Your eyes widened as Obi-Wan walked closer, and you realized what was inside the bundle of blankets.

"She had twins. They're being separated for safety, but... she asked if we'd take care of him, of Luke," Obi-Wan spoke softly, leaning down to show you the sleeping baby boy in his arms.

You reached out, taking the small baby from Obi-Wan, scooting over to allow the older man to lay beside you, "Normally I would expect to be married, hell even have at least gone on a date, before having a baby."

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, knowing you felt honored that Padme had asked you and Obi-Wan, "That could be arranged."

"Is it true?" You rasped, gently brushing Luke's tiny baby hair with your fingers. Obi-Wan hummed, watching you in awe, "That I'm what you love most... as Anakin said. Is that true?"

Your eyes flicked up to Obi-Wan, and he immediately felt himself smiling, getting lost in your beautiful (e/c) eyes. How could he not be in love with you? He grew up with you in the temple, trained with you, went on missions with you, and it was always you. Even his old master, Qui-Gon Jinn tried to get you two together, but Obi-Wan had always insisted there was a code to follow. But... not anymore. 

"Of course, you're what I love most," Obi-Wan smiled, "I have been since you slammed me to the ground on my first day of lightsaber training."

You laughed lightly, looking back to the baby in your arms as you smiled, "I love you too... it scared me, knowing I couldn't help you against Anakin."

Obi-Wan flushed. The idea of you worrying about him made him frown. He turned, lightly kissing the top of your head as he had many times before, only this time it was different, "There is never a need for you to worry about me." 

You sighed, knowing Obi-Wan wouldn't admit that he'd been scared of fighting Anakin also, "So, it's just us three now?"

"Just us three. I was thinking, we could go to Tatooine, build a life there, raise Luke."

You smiled, sure this wasn't what you wanted. No, you wanted Anakin and Ahsoka bickering over who could hold one of the twins. And you wanted Padme here, watching everyone coo over her babies. You wanted to be teasing Rex about his armor scaring the children. But... this would do. This, just you and Obi-Wan and Luke, was more than perfect. As long as you have Obi-Wan by you, you knew you could handle anything thrown your way.

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