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anakin-pilled · 4 months

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: no use of y/n

rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!

You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.

Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush.

After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire.

You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you. You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love.

The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.

Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse.

Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt.

Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought.

Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together.

As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face.

You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”

“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.

“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions.

“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?”

You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”

“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly.

You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different.

“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine.

“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy.

You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could.

Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”

“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”

“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous.

“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.

“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin.

“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”

You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy.

The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger.

“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first.

Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life.

Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.”

“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector. He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you.

“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.

You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”

Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer.

“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin.

It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.

“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine.

“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished.

“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”

Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.

“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction.

You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked.

“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.

“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face.

You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner.

“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time.

The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food.

Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down.

You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert.

“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it.

You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.

Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from.

You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”

He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child.

“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”

Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls.

You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face.

“Well, I think it’s time we head back.”

Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules.

You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure.

Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him. Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one.

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):

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edgeofn1ght · 18 days

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all you conceal, let out: ch. 1

After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)

alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead

Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him –

“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto.

Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson.

If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.

But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.

As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.

‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone.

Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky.

So where the hell was here?

Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life.

He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole.

He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?

Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway.

As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam.

Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either.

"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt.

He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night.

But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew.

A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer. “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try.

Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.

Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then –

Nothing more.

For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.

Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula.

When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head. But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.

Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan.

Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again.

So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved.

Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that.

And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize.

He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him. Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped.

"Ah, you're awake."

Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly.

“Take it easy!” The voice warned.

He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive .

He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose.

He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.

He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest.

"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.

Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side.

"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there.

Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"

Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."

"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"

Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down.

Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"

"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."

This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan.

Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up.

"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"

"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so.

Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back.

"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.

“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled.

“You won’t though.”

Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither.

Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed.

“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.

Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan.

But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.

In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer.

Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket.

“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen.

This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow.

Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved.

The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber.

Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again.

He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden.

Just like in his dream.

His heart rate picked up again.

Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream?

Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream.

He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile.

“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face.

“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it.

They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.

Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”

As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”

“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look.

Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.

But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?

He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction.

Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."

"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth.

Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?"

“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”

Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?”

"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."

Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"

Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.

"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.

Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said.

He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.”

"Anakin," Ben repeated softly.

He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him.

After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."

Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”

Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"

"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.

Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why.

"And what of the war?"

"What war?"

“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"

Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.”

Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."

Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing.

He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong.

Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."

Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"

"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen.

He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow.

If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.

Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.

#obikin #obikin bingo #my writing #never a jedi au #alternate universe #universe travel #obi wan x anakin #fanfic #if you saw me reposting it #you probably didn't cos it wasn't showing up anywhere 😭

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happy-beeeps · 1 year

Note

Hi love! Could I request a Rex X reader where reader can’t sleep so he stays and talks with her?

Hi lovie!!! Tysm for the request! It makes me so happy to answer these especially when they're about Rex. I actually struggle with insomnia so this is like a very real occurrence for me, so I hope you love it!! Also the way i'm posting this at night aw it's like a bedtime story this has so many layers

Bed Time

pairing: Rex x jedi!reader

Summary: You have a hard time finding sleep, so Rex finds you instead

Warnings: None, this is tooth rotting fluff for my sleepy girlies (gn)

WC: 1.2k

* * *

You’re a monster when you’re low on sleep, according to everyone in the Jedi Council and most of the GAR. For being a Jedi, you’d think you’d be well equipped to handle low sleep, but to you, sleep is currency. There’s a running gag of all the places you’ve dozed off when trying to catch up on lost hours (the current favorites being Master Yoda’s council chair, at Kix’s med station, and inside the youngling’s training room.) You’re bristle and groggy when you’re low on energy, and everyone jokes of the time Anakin had proposed one of his haphazard “plans,” and you had looked at him, eyes sullen, and placed a hand over his mouth. “I’m going to need you to stop talking.” You grumbled.

He got over it. Eventually.

This lack of sleep is how you find yourself here, padding through the jungles of Felucia in nothing but your sleep shorts and tunic. When sleep struggles to find you, you’ve found it best to seek a quiet spot away from your bed and do something, anything, to calm your mind. Meditate, read, once you have even scrubbed the entirety of the 501st’s gear. So now, you settle on a quiet spot overlooking a valley, out of sight from where you’ve all made camp, but not too far that you’re in any inherent danger. It’s hard to focus here, the air is thick and soupy and you swear if you swung your arms down fast enough you’d catch water droplets on them. Still, the quiet hum of wildlife around you allows you to ground yourself in the moment, to pretend you’re not at war. It’s calm, peaceful even. Of course, until the peace is corrupted by the crunch of footfall, and you spin around to face the intruder, though your gaze softens as it lands on him.

Rex walks in through the bushes, holding a canteen and a scrap of fabric in one hand, and his bucket in another. He’s dressed only on the bottom, opting to just wear his blacks across his broad chest. “Fancy seeing you here,” he smirks, then moves to settle next to you, offering you the canteen of crisp water.

You graciously accept it, drinking as much as you can muster in one breath, hoping to replace everything you’ve just sweated out. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

“You know, some might even say I was made for you.”

You roll your eyes at the quip, sending your shoulders gently into his. He takes the movement as an invitation to open his arm, and you happily settle your weight on his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

“What are you doing here,” he murmurs against your hair, and you make a movement that resembles a shrug.

“Dunno. Couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

He laughs, and you can feel the rumble down your spine, “Right, so we’ll be paying for that in the morning.”

You look up at his smirk and stick out your tongue at him, and he responds by pressing a warm kiss on the back of your cheek near your ear, swinging his arms around you to hold you firmly across your chest. “How can I make it better?”

“Master Yoda would say by leaving me alone,” you joke, and you know he gets your jest, as he only holds you tighter. “Can we just talk? I don’t know why I’m so unsettled right now.”

“Of course, about what?”

You shrug again and nudge your feet outwards, kicking Rex’s helmet as you move. “What are your marks for again? Tell me about them.”

“Those?” he gestures his head towards the helmet, “For missions I’ve successfully completed. Course, I’ve had to start counting by fives.”

Your eyes land on the newest cluster scrawled on his forehead and you count seven dashes. 35 battles won. You don’t know why that fact impresses you, considering you’ve been at probably half of them at least, not to mention the other missions you’ve completed. Then again, everything Rex does impresses you.

“You ever think about what you’d do without it all, the war, the missions? When it’s all over?”

He hums, pulling you in closer, “Nah, not much use in it. I’m not meant to know anything but war.”

You swat at his chest, “Don’t say that, you know I don’t like it." There’s a blissful silence that falls around the two of you after that. Not quite enough for you to get sleepy, but enough for you to melt into his arms a little bit more, to meditate a touch and use his breathing as an anchor. After a few minutes of this, you start up again. “I know what I’d do.”

“Oh really, General? I’m all ears.”

“First, I think I’d rescue this one dashingly handsome clone captain I worked with, if he’d have me,”

“He would, always, but go on,” and he trails kisses up and down the back of your neck, wherever he can reach.

“Then I think I’d settle on a system somewhere warm, with a beach maybe.”

“Like Naboo?”

“Sure, we can go to Naboo. Then, I think I’d be a teacher.”

“Like a Jedi Master?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’d teach all the kids in our town and then I’d come home to my captain.”

“I’m sure he’d be very happy to see you.” And he is. Rex pulls your chin in for a kiss, not fueled by lust or urgency, but a slow, easy kiss that’s meant to put you at ease. “Do you mean it?” he asks, eyes searching yours for any deception.

You yawn. “When it comes to you, always.”

He grips you tighter, and sleep threatens to overtake you now. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs, running his fingers up and down the sides of your arms, sprouting chill bumps in his wake. “Put this on.” And he passes you the black fabric resting beside him.

You unfurl it and open it to reveal one of his black undershirts. “Rex,”

“I just washed it, it’s clean. It’s designed to wick sweat so it’ll keep you cool,” he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck now, “sides, it’ll be like I’m sleeping with ‘ya.”

“Won’t that look suspicious? What if Anakin says something-”

“I can guarantee you that he won’t.”

You do as you're told, and settle into the warmth of his chest once more, surrounded by him and his scent. You must drift off in a matter of minutes, and Rex scoops you up carefully, holding you with both arms and carefully bending down to pick up your lightsaber. He walks the short distance back to camp, and meets a smirking General Skywalker at the flap of your tent. The Jedi puts his hand up before Rex can say anything, “Whatcha got there?” he smirks, opening the flap for Rex to place you at your bedroll, you still fast asleep. He ducks back out to face Anakin, who just gives him a knowing look before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Goodnight, you two.”

Rex rolls his eyes but grins at his General, before turning back to face your tent. “Goodnight cyarika.” He murmurs, the sound quick and fleeting, floating away on the warm, Felucian air.

#fic factory is OPEN BAYBEE #captain rex x reader #captain rex #captain rex x f!reader #requests #commander rex #rex x reader #clone trooper rex #tcw fic

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ahsoka-in-a-hood · 2 months

Note

You know something that bothers me in Time Travel Aus and some fics Obikin centered? Obi-Wan's reactions. Like I only really ship Obikin via their dynamic in Rots and CW while fully acknowledging the etnics involved considering everything Anakin did when going Vader (or falling into it), and yet... The fact that people make Obi-Wan have certain attractions to him while he was underage unsettles me. Because when I saw Aotc, Obi-Wan seemed to view him mostly in the lenses of a exasperated father (or coworker), with some moments of reassurance and fondness. Only when he stops being his padawan does that shift to be more equals (dunno how that was portrayed in the OWK show, haven't seen it).

And while I'm aware that wasn't the intention, whenever I see Obi-Wan time travelling to when Anakin was a kid or teen, it feels weirdly similar to grooming, where Anakin simply shifts his obsession with Padmé to Obi. Dunno if it's just a peev of mine, but wanted your opinion.

I must admit I am eyeing this ask a little warily, all things considered. But! assuming this is in good faith…

You may have noticed that when I go on my periodic obikin spirals I tend more to vaderwan; it's the version I was drawn to first and still find most compelling for me. So I'm not the best person to ask for a breakdown of the dynamics you mentioned, but I'm not without insights I guess.

I would say that Obi Wan being attracted to teenage padawan Anakin-or more importantly acting on it- is a darker take on his character… this is an angle someone might find it interesting to mess around with. (and sometimes being unsettled can be the point)

For example Obi Wan -> padakin may be appealing for Obi Wan's character by making him less than respectable, with desires and passions that he has very carefully squirreled away, but that Anakin pushes against and through the boundaries of..

Or your scenario with the time travel- I think I have read something along those lines, but it was fairly self-aware about it. This would be post- rots for Obi Wan, so the stakes are different. And you could play with him getting manipulative.

It sounds like it's not for you though!

Vaderwan is also dark, but in a different way. The OWK show doesn't exactly bring sex into it, it just depicts them as completely undone by each other, their souls consumed by each other, eaten away with grief and guilt and rage for ten entire years……………………………………………………………………

*shrug* This is playing with dolls to me. I have a mental closet with dozens of little Obi Wans and Anakins and Padmes and Ahsokas and Codys in various outfits (the outfits mostly being different takes on them etc). I'll toy with just about any ship involving my blorbos, but I'm not going to necessarily be drawn to every permutation either.

idk idk.

#obikin

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underacalicosky · 5 months

Note

#46 for the soft prompts pretty please?? (I will bombard you with these if I'm not careful...)

Thanks for this prompt!! @somethingsteff asked for the same one.

46. “Take a break. You’ve been working all day.” “I can’t just–”

I think this one was a little angstier than I had hoped… (hint: feel free to pick another number so I can make it up to you! I’ve got 31, 41, and 47 in my queue)

Piece of You

He finds Anakin tucked away in the corner of his workspace in the hangar bay, surrounded by half-assembled droids, metal scraps, and endless wiring. Anakin’s facing away from the entrance of the small room and Obi-Wan takes a moment to study him.

From where Obi-Wan’s standing, he can tell Anakin is deeply focused on whatever his current project is from the way he’s sitting with his shoulders hunched over the workbench, his curls gathered into a clip at the crown of his head, his hands busy, but not frantic.

To an outside observer, Anakin might appear calm, but Obi-Wan senses through their bond that he’s unsettled. Anxious.

As Obi-Wan nears, he sees the two lightsaber hilts on the workbench in front of Anakin. His heart clenches and his breath catches in his throat.

He approaches slowly, his footsteps deliberate so that Anakin knows it’s him.

“Take a break. You’ve been working all day,” Obi-Wan says, crossing his arms as he walks around the bench to face Anakin.

“I can’t just--”

Anakin stops abruptly, eyes dancing between the two hilts. A slight crease in his brow forms as he sighs heavily.

“I can’t just take a break. I don’t have much time. I have to finish before she gets here,” he says.

Obi-Wan looks at the hilts again and nods. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” Anakin snaps, and the thread of pain in his voice with the simultaneous tremor of grief in the Force makes Obi-Wan startle. “I failed her,” he adds quietly.

“Anakin...” he starts, but doesn’t know quite what to offer.

“This is the least I can do for her,” Anakin continues. “What if I never see her again after this? This will be the last thing I can give her to protect herself.”

“You’ve taught her everything you know,” Obi-Wan says. “Ahsoka’s been able to survive outside of the Order, on her own, because of what you’ve taught her. And those lessons will stay with her, long after you’ve parted ways.”

Anakin looks up at Obi-Wan with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Did I teach her enough? Did I teach her the right things?” Anakin asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t ready to be a master.”

“None of us are,” Obi-Wan says before he can stop himself.

Straightening up, Anakin shakes his head. “But you were the best master. No one else could’ve trained me as well as you did. As you still do.”

“And Ahsoka feels that way about you,” Obi-Wan tells him. “It was her decision to leave. I realize that’s painful and you feel responsible, but it’s not a rejection of you. I believe wholeheartedly that the most difficult part of her decision to walk away was knowing how it would affect you.”

A quiet settles over them as Anakin idly handles the hilts.

“I miss her,” Anakin says.

“I miss her, too,” Obi-Wan responds. His eyes flick down to the weapons in Anakin’s hands. “She’ll appreciate them.”

“You think so?” Anakin asks, looking at Obi-Wan.

“Yes,” he says definitively. “She’ll carry a piece of you with her. A reminder that even though you’re apart, you’re still looking after her.”

Standing from the workbench, Anakin steps back and turns on one of the lightsabers. He examines it carefully, twirling it and slicing through the air a couple times, the glow of the blade illuminating his face.

“I hope you’re right,” Anakin says with a small smile.

#soft dialogue prompts #thanks for the ask!

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enigmatist17 · 11 months

Text

Anon Pt 3

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

Ahsoka didn't normally fear her cramped bunk. The Resolute was her home in this war, and being a padawan, she'd been allowed to lightly decorate her space to make it feel closer to her room back in the Temple. However the candles and expansive rug over the floor felt alien, and the bed built into the wall had been raided of its mattress in preference to the floor.

Oppressive heat that climbs as the air grows sparse, limbs growing heavy and fear climbing as they hope the call for help will be answered

Sufficed to say, Ahsoka can't handle the limited space.

So she sleeps on the floor, and for a few weeks just does her best to go back to things as normal. However, when tasked with getting into a fighter for routine flight training, the confined space felt like a death sentence as she managed a few minutes flying around the Resolute.

She's going to die, it's so tight and cold and she has to GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

"Commander where are you going?!" Rex's voice felt so far away as she sped towards the docking bay, her landing definitely a rough one as some men scramble to get out of her ships way. None of it registers as she heaves herself out of the fighter, collapsing onto the ground while trying to force air into her lungs that screamed for it. There are voices as she's surrounded by a few clones, and Ahsoka hugs her legs to her chest as she ties to make sense of what just happened. It's just all too loud, too jumbled, too much as she presses her forehead against her knees to try and block it all out.

"Okay okay give her some air!" Jesse's commanding voice seems to cut through the clamor like a vibroblade, and his familiar armor is the first thing Ahsoka can look at for longer than a moment as he kneels in front of her and gently nudges her to look up. "Hey, look at me, sir."

"Jesse...?" The other gives Ahsoka a soft smile, and finds himself pushed back onto the floor when Ashoka launched herself into his arms. Propping himself up into a seated position, Jesse motions for someone to get him a canteen while he hugs her close with his other arm.

"You're alright vod'ika, just focus on your breathing." Jesse hopes he's saying the right thing as the commander in his arms struggles to regulate her breathing, but figures he's doing something right when ever so slowly the trembling starts to ease. By the time Rex and the others have all landed and had booked it over, Ahsoka has almost fully stopped trembling as she sipped her water, looking absolutely drained as she's surrounded.

"What happened, is she alright?" Hardcase asked as Rex knelt beside the two, at least relieved not to see any blood or obvious injuries.

"I think she had a panic attack." Jesse replied, the lack of joke from Ahsoka a bit unsettling. "Geonosis if I had to bite."

"How..?" Ahsoka nearly winced at how scratchy her voice was, but was far too exhausted to really care at the moment.

"You've been sleeping on the floor since then, not hard to guess." Fives knelt down, giving a small smile. "If it helps, we get it."

"You know, you're always welcome to come join us." Dogma spoke up, gaining a few looks from the normally quiet man. "It helps us to be around each other for support, and that extends to you."

"Grumpy there is right." Fives grinned, earning a grumble. "Better than being all alone in your bunk right?"

"Well...it does sound nice." Ahsoka hummed, sitting up a little big straighter while remaining in Jesse's hold.

It was the first kind of warmth in weeks that didn't make her skin crawl.

"I'd take them up on it, Rex makes a comfy pillow." Anakin's voice made most of the group jump in surprise, having not seen the Knight come down to the hangar bay. "You alright Snips?"

"i...I've been better." Ahsoka watched as Rex stood to let Anakin take his place, a gloved hand being placed on her shoulder. "It..it was like I was back there, trying to get the stupid comm working and hoping you'd find us."

"You don't have to explain anything to me, I know." Anakin's smile was like a balm, and the dread from a few minutes ago has eased to a reasonable thrum of anxiety in the back of her mind. "Why don't we move to a place that's a little less drafty huh? I'll make some of those biscuits that Obi-Wan makes for you, sound promising?"

"The ones that you make the, what's it called, icing for?" Echo asked curiously, and grins when Anakin nods. "Those are amazing sir."

"I call the first ones!" Hardcase yelled at the same times Fives did, and the two glare in challenge. "I said it first!"

"You did not!" Fives complained, and reaches over to shove Hardcase once he's back on his feet.

"Oh you've done it now!" Hardcase grinned before grabbing Fives and pinning him in a headlock, the others giving the two space to wrestle as Jesse and Ahsoka get up off the floor. Ahsoka watched the good-natured fight while leaning into Jesse's side, laughing a bit when Rex broke them up with an exasperated sigh.

"Come on guys, lets see if you can beat Ahsoka to the first batch." Anakin grinned, and Ahsoka finds herself in the middle of the grouping of 501st soldiers, with Anakin's arm around her shoulders as they walk towards the bay exit. Their laughter and chatter is more soothing than anything Ahsoka could ever hope for, and as they all pile into the elevator, she smiles.

#personal #star wars #clone wars #the clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #arc trooper jesse #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper dogma #captain rex #I hope you like it :)#anon request

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questforgalas · 9 months

Text

Settling the Score

Notes: This is complete crack inspired by the idea that Anakin's competitiveness is why he didn't fall to the dark side. Of course Yoda is the mischievous gremlin stirring the pot that ends up saving the galaxy. This wasn't edited and thrown together when the idea took over my brain like a virus

WC: 1k

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Mace Windu, Palpy, Obi-Wan

Tay's Masterlist

Read on AO3

The darkness was an old friend to Anakin. He felt it sink into his blood, slithering its way through his body as it made its final push to fully take over. There was no point in fighting it anymore. Broken, fighting his legs from giving out underneath him, Anakin looked around.

The Chancellor’s office lay ruined with the signs of a lightsaber duel scattered all around the overturned furniture and scorch marks on the wall. Wind whipped Anakin’s sandy blonde curls, gusting in from the shattered window floor-to-ceiling window that used to span the whole of the Chancellor’s back wall. The evening traffic sped by, completely unaware that the Chancellor of the Republic sat on broken glass with his back against the wall, purple lightsaber pointed hovering at his throat.

“Anakin, I told you it would come to this!” The Chancellor pleads to him.

He’s frozen. The greatest warrior of a generation. The greatest Jedi of all time. And he’s frozen taking in the scene in front of him.

The darkness is trying to pull him under. It nearly has him. He watches Master Windu take a step forward, bringing his purple saber closer to the quivering man on the floor. The most powerful man in the Republic is nothing but a quivering pile of robes and flesh.

“You have lost,” he hears Master Windu say.

Red tendrils creep into the side of his vision. Anakin realizes he’s shaking from his final stand against the darkness consuming him.

“Padme,” he thinks to himself. “I must save her. I need her. I need him. He has the answers.”

Crackling blue light blinds him as he watches in horror lightning fly from the Chancellor’s hands right at Master Windu. A sith. The sith. Right in front of him. The ghost stories the masters in the creche told the younglings before bed to keep them from wandering at night. The myths that were on the verge of fading into legend until a fateful duel on Naboo.

And Anakin stood on the verge of joining them.

“He can save her,” he thought over and over as the lightning began to overtake Master Windu. “I need him.”

“But unsettled the score with Obi-Wan will be,” a familiar croaky voice whispered, slipping under the dark walls fortifying in his mind.

“What?” Anakin responded in confusion, unsure if his mind had finally fallen into chaos.

“Defeated the sith on Naboo, Obi-Wan did. Defeated Dooku, you did. Tied you are battling sith lords,” the voice clarified. Anakin wasn’t sure how, but he knew the voice had a mischievous smirk pointed towards him.

“I don’t see how that information is relevant right now,” Anakin answered.

“A sith lord the Chancellor is. Defeat him and best Kenobi you will. Bragging rights you will have.”

The voice was right. The sith were rare, only ever in pairs even when they weren’t fading into legend. There, with lightning crackling in the air, it clicked into place. Dooku was the apprentice. They now faced the master.

Back on Naboo thirteen years earlier, Obi-Wan faced the first sith the Jedi had heard of in centuries. Just days ago, Anakin cut the head off the Separatist snake when he defeated Count Dooku, the sith lord leading the Separatist cause. So, as the voice said, Anakin and Obi-Wan were currently in a tie for defeating sith lords. 1-1 to be exact.

Who knew when another opportunity would present itself.

Anakin found the hilt of his lightsaber hanging on his belt, the familiar weight an automatic beacon for his hand. Taking a step, his body felt like it was walking through sludge, red nearly taking over his vision. The Chancellor cackling on the floor at the center of it.

He ignited his lightsaber, a friendly blue seeping into the cracks of the red.

“Bragging rights you will have.”

Another step and Obi-Wan’s face appears in his mind, an exasperated sigh and eyes rolling as Anakin tells him how he defeated two sith lords in less than a week. Anakin’s animated, hands planted on his hips, smirking down at his old master.

“Oh, Anakin.” A fond tender tone Obi-Wan reserves only for him breaks through the walls.

One last step and without hesitation, Anakin quickly swings his lightsaber up to immediately bring it down through the Chancellor’s head. The lightning recedes, and Master Windu topples forward, catching himself on his hands and knees.

Instantly, the darkness disappears. Anakin’s mind and body feel the lightest they have since the Clone Wars began. The red in his vision crawls back, and he blinks to bring the scene back into focus. Not giving the Chancellor’s body a second glance, he moves to Master Windu’s side, offering his shoulder for the Jedi to lean on.

“Skywalker,” Master Windu says, “How did you do it?”

“I had a score to settle with Obi-Wan,” Anakin answers simply.

Windu wants to be surprised. He wants to think this is something he’d never expect any of his fellow Jedi to say after defeating a sith lord. He wants to believe that Anakin could not perplex him more after the most important moment in Jedi history. But as he stares up at Anakin, slowly regaining his strength and catching his breath, there is not an ounce of surprise he offers in the force as he registers what Skywalker just said to him.

“Of course you did” is all he can muster. “Let’s get back to the temple. Master Yoda will need to hear of this right away.”

Hours later, after Anakin helps Master Windu hobble back to their shuttle, after they return to the halls of the temple and inform the council of the events that just occurred, after Obi-Wan confirms his defeat of Grievous effectively ending the Clone Wars, and after Anakin greets his old master on the landing platform of the Jedi temple, Obi-Wan stands in front of a beaming Anakin, hands proudly on his hips.

“While you were out playing battle games with Grievous, master, I defeated another sith lord,” Anakin informs him.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at the grin that’s entirely taken over Anakin’s face, but he doesn’t deny the pride he can feel pounding in his heart. “Yes, well, let’s not forget I’m the one who taught you all that you know, my young apprentice. I’m glad to see not all of my teachings went in one ear and out the other.”

“Hey! I believe I was what they refer to as a ‘star pupil’.”

“Oh, Anakin.”

#tay writes #star wars #tay writes the jedi #anakin skywalker #au #anakin doesn't fall #complete crack idea #sheev palpatine #mace windu #obi wan kenobi

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zalrb · 1 year

Note

This is probably random.

But which pairing did you find to be more flat romantic-chemistry wise.

1. Steroline

2. Anakin and Padme

3. Bella and Edward.

This is an intriguingly awful question. I went back to look at some clips again and the entire time I was like

Anakin and Padme are the worst because it's just uncomfortabl like in the second movie the intention is Padme is fighting her feelings so she tries to get out of being alone with him as much as possible but it just comes across like Anakin being a complete creeper and her trying to escape every situation she's in with himand then when they're together in Revenge of the Sith, so when I rewatched the scenes, I muted it so I wouldn't be swayed by the atrocious dialogue and besides the fact that he always looks like he's going to murder her and she always looks like she's a hostage trying to be normal, they're stiff, they don't move naturally with each other, it's just unsettling.

2. The next two I have to do combined. Steroline is the second worst and then it's Bella and Edward. The thing about Bella and Edward is that they're awkward af, the movies are awkward and Kristen and Robert are awkward in it, nothing seems natural, everything feels staged and cold and confined, just like the movies they're in, like what is this?

he can't even put his arm around her naturally

it is laughably terrible

but the thing with Steroline is that they're flat

Like their wedding, we always go back to the wedding but this scene, Candice is doing the best she can

and Paul looks like in his head he's going *pause to choke up*

while Edward and Bella are plainly awkward and it's funny to watch, Steroline have friendship/roommate chemistry being forced into a romantic framing

which is laborious particularly because you know that they have actual chemistry with other people. This is put on

This is not

This is the best they're ever at

and

the way it extremely pales in comparison makes it the worst.

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pyreshe · 2 years

Text

details of livvy’s sith arc;

there comes a point when anakin begins to have dreams that seemingly predict livvy’s death. in the dream he see’s her fighting valiantly, but her opponent is just too strong and she’s alone. the dream always ends the same way; livvy on the ground, a cut on her forehead dripping blood down her face, and a crimson lightsaber drawn and ready. the lightsaber arcs, livvy screams, rubble begins to fall, and then he wakes up.

anakin tries to protect her. he does his best to limit her missions and watches her like a hawk when they leave the temple. but it’s not enough. livvy ends up having what she believes to be an enlightening conversation with palpatine where she confesses that she’s worried about anakin and palpatine more or less tells her that she should protect him the way he protects her.

livvy and anakin get separated on a moon and grievous is in the area. while anakin battles grievous, livvy attempts to circumvent his plans on the other end of the station. unfortunately, dooku is there as well. they fight and livvy looses. anakin finds livvy’s lightsaber and blood in a heap of rubble; obi-wan has to physically force anakin away as he frantically searches through the debris while the station collapses around them.

olivia is presumed dead. anakin insists for months that she’s out there. that he can feel her force essence in the periphery of his senses and that he needs to find her. this is mostly written off as him grieving. eventually, even he can no longer sense her.

but months later, word surfaces of dooku having another apprentice. the first time anakin sees her, the wind is knocked out of him, because it’s livvy. her eyes are golden, she’s older and taller than he remembers, her face is an impassive mask and her force essence is absolutely wrong, and the lightsaber she’s spinning in her hand is an unforgiving crimson, but it’s her.

dooku has scratches on his face, as though someone has raked their fingernails over one of his cheeks. this and livvy’s corrupted essence, utter silence, and blank expression lead anakin to suspect that she’s being corrupted and controlled.

its a combined effort on obi-wan and anakin’s part to defeat dooku and incapacitate liv and even then they only barely manage it. anakin ends up killing dooku during this battle.

anakin was right. livvy’s head is a mess of warped and planted ideas, memories that have been twisted into unrecognizable shapes, and a shaky at best grasp on reality. it had taken months of dooku scrambling her head for her to arrive at that point.

it takes a while to sort out the mess of her head; anakin is good at fixing things. several jedi he trusts have a part in bringing livvy back to herself while she remains on naboo and mostly under sedation. but eventually, her eyes open and they’re once again a deep dark brown instead of that unsettling gold.

despite her head being mostly back in order, there are moments when livvy will question things and bring up memories that couldn’t have happened. one such memory is of chancellor palpatine’s face as she was being worked on. this is quickly dismissed; of course dooku had put palpatine’s face in livvy’s mind, probably hoping she would take him out.

livvy is required to have a trial. anakin fights them constantly and swears his padawan’s innocence throughout the ordeal. livvy’s innocence being proven is a long and tedious process but they manage.

eventually, though, anakin will wake up and find that livvy has once again vanished. this time she’d left a note explaining that she no longer feels able to stay with the order.

it’s a rough time.

palpatine offers anakin comfort during this time. he assures him that he’d done the right thing killing dooku and consoling him over the loss of his padawan.

at some point, however, one of palpatine’s sleeves slips and anakin notices a bite mark on his wrist. the teeth of the bite mark are crooked in the same exact ways that livvy’s are crooked; and in that moment anakin realizes that livvy hadn’t been confused when she’d talked about palpatine being there during her corruption. he’d actually had a hand in it, as she said.

anakin proceeds to kill palpatine too. he gets in some deep shit for that; even after palpatine is looked into more and seen for what he was, anakin is expelled from the order.

he settles on naboo with padme, who is recently pregnant. livvy comes back from her stay hiding out on helios with her grandparents and she and anakin reconcile.

the twins grow up on naboo and livvy is their favorite aunt.

#glorytragedy #me. about any lore issues in this post: fuck it we ball

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jekyllnahyena · 2 years

Note

i want 8 and 23 for lockup please

Even more Lockup, ma boi, ma creature, ma favorite weirdo <3 this question thingie for anyone that's interested >:D

8. What will always make them smile? What will always make them cry?

uffffffffffff. Aight. The biggest instance I know from the top of my head would be the day that Margo gifted him those black n pink heart earings. She's around 15 at the time and used the bit of her allowance she had and scourged for materials. Margo made them herself, asked Upendo with the how to and her big sister helped her, and she was super nervous about it all, but she wanted to make something special for him. So when she finally presented them to him, she immediately started the whole 'they're nothing special, i can take them back if u don't like them' spiel, and he wordlessly took them and put them in. And Lockup loves them and he told her so and I tell you, the battalion watching the whole thing lost their shit. It's for many one for the first times they really see Lockup genuinely smiling. Lockup holds a very soft spot for Margo and he wants to be the best big brother he can for her. I think I wrote it somewhere, but Lockup's smiles are, most of the time, weird as shit and he tries it in front of a mirror to get used to the feeling, specifically because he wants to be encouraging for Margo. Otherwise, he'll also smile during sparring and fighting, specifically when he holds a lightsaber. He has a lot of fun fighting with those. He also gets a very weird and sorta scary look whenever he gets the chance to be the demolition expert on a mission. My dude loves his explosions. But those are more terrifying than anything else.

On the other hand, he has deeply unsettling breakdowns from time to time. It sometimes occurs when he spends time with others, specifically when other commanders invited him for a night out, when he slowly gets overwhelmed, when he realises just how far he's fallen, how much he's lost within himself, how exhausting it is to fight back against it all. And he'll just sorta stand up, excuse himself for a minute, sit outside and slowly feel everything falling apart. Because he has emotions and he hates how much was taken from him, in how much pain he actually is, how terrified he is. And he'll sit there and cry and wheep and it feels like his heart is being ripped out. Afterwards, he'll wipe his face and tears, wash himself and just, return. It's worst when nobody notices. Jackal picks up on the habit not too long after the start of the war and they start working through it with him, make sure that he knows he can come to them, all that jazz. It helps, but it still sometimes happens. It's difficult, because he'd never let anyone of the battalion see him like that because he's their protector and there are very few people that he trust enough to see him like this. That, and Margo's death hit him hard. It was a very silent thing, his greiving that is. Because she was a child, his baby sister and when they find her, not a single one of the squad she normally comes to fight along side has survived. They practically lost her and all those that you've come to deeply associate with her. That evening he sits alone in his room and mourns all that has been lost under him, mourns the kids who's death he'll always carry on his shoulders, mourns the loss of his smallest sister.

23. Where would they fall on a politeness/rudness scale of 1-10 (1 being the most polite and 10 being the rudest)?

Hm. So. I think would probably be around a 3 in all honesty. That man is blunt as fuck and will insult you if he doesn't like you. I think a good example is when he's together with Anakin because he Does Not like him at all and has made it very clear. So when Anakin comes over with one of his plans, Lockup has told him to shup up, sit down and let him do the thing he was specifically trained for and has very effectively continued to do these past few battles thanks. If he's continuening to him, Lockup will very plainly tell him to shut the fuck up. As he's backed by by his general in these moments, Anakin can only really come and sulk by Jackal but they'll hug him and ask him what he expected. So eh, he would be considered rude, by the simple standard that he doesn't hold back or lie unless it's sorta necessary. Like, he's known to headbutt people for being idiots. So he's not a person to go about insulting anyone he sees and all that, he's just very honest and makes his opinion known if it onfluences him in any way and will continue to do so. It's very funny to watch from the side line. As long as you don't fuck up his day, you're in no danger. Just. Be aware that he can always tear you a new one if he ever wanted to. It's also pretty uncomfortable because he'll look expressionless while doing so, you can't really gauge his feelings unless you reaaally know him. That man is a very funky creature.

#commander lockup #margo #ajekyllsask #thx so much for the ask!!!#these are ridiculously fun for me

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lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats · 2 years

Text

@mynameisanakin cont. from here

Anakin had been reluctant to look Remy in the face. Were he any less used to observing people, say back when he was a young child maybe, Remy might just jump to the conclusion it was due to the eeriness of demonic eyes being fixed on the man (they were only red and black- it was admittedly unsettling to pretty much anyone but himself…most times), and maybe the tiniest bit of himself does jump to that conclusion for a split second even now. However, Remy knows there’s more reasons for avoiding eye contact than simply being unsettled by the mutant across from you. He himself doesn’t always like to make eye contact. You see too much of a person if you look too long, too hard. ‘The window to the soul’ wasn’t an idiom people had exaggerated, it was quite accurate. Sometimes disturbingly so. So he had long since learned when to apply a stare for leverage, and when to try and cast his gaze elsewhere frequently enough to try and allow people some comfort around him. Sometimes it was more than even he wanted to, but it was a small price to pay to not have to constantly wear his sunglasses indoors (which was always such a douchey move he felt, even if he had utter validity in choosing to do so to avoid both the stares and the intensity of lights on his sensitive eyes). Anakin, he felt, was more so looking away for his own comfort when it came to being around people as a whole, with a casual helping of ‘this dude’s eyes are Unsettling’- he knew the look. He himself liked engaging with people but he certainly had a better time of it when it was with people who better understood him- other mutants, or at the very least, people he knew well enough to trust when they said they didn’t care. Not that he could ever prove it entirely with even those people. Shit can’ ever prove…

No, with Anakin he felt as though if he were to wander off he’d observe the same body language. Reserved, putting up a front of some kind, but not so forced of a one he found it distasteful or overly suspicious. There was plenty of reason to be cautious when engaging with strangers in the Quarter, especially for Remy himself now that he was Home.

Home meant people, even if they were not Guild members, potentially being paid for information on his doings, his whereabouts. There were eyes everywhere here and he was fully aware of it, even if right now he was doing his best to appear utterly relaxed, choosing a bar that was not adjacent to his hotel for some more…relaxed imbibing. Not that he was planning on getting shit faced. Oh no, he wasn’t going that far. But enough for a light buzz? He might regret it later, scratch that he probably would regret it later after having made some dubious although not endangering life decisions, but for right now he simply wanted to forget Guild rivalries, mutant politics, the ex who had ended things once more, the whole lot of it, and pretend like he really was the man without much of a care in the world like he was putting on right now.

He can tell he’s being assessed by Anakin, that it isn’t all simply overly friendly convo. Anakin was not the type to simply strike up a conversation that would in the end have no benefit of some king to it- the uncomfortable avoidance of eye contact and posture had that blatantly clear. He was not extroverted, nor was he entirely sober. But he didn’t mind, respected it even. That was what anyone who had a lick of sense should do, evaluate him. Not that anything about his person gave any kind of sense of his powers unless you were quite strongly familiar with the small group of mutants (glorified cult, if he wanted to argue semantics with someone) that ran around upstate New York and sometimes other places in the world. Not that that was any part of his life right now, and he intended to keep it that way. Out of touch, old money white man that passed for normal ordering him around? What had he been thinking? And with that thought, he took another swallow of his bourbon. No, the only thing he should be giving off to someone giving him a once over was that he was some kind of mutant, and that he wasn’t badly off. Not in an overly bougie, touristy kind of way though. No, he knew no one from here would look at him and think him a regular, but certainly not once they heard him speak would think him a tourist. He didn’t make any effort to conceal his accent, not that it wasn’t affected to his own fashion as to make it all his own, in a way.

Remy snorted at the mention of a Pink Squirrel drink, smirking at the suggestion. “Dat soun’ like somethin’ only gonna have mixer wid essence of spirit f’de sake of legal reason, but if’n ya say so.” He knew full well he would not name anything so horrendously in his own bar, but this was not his own establishment. He also didn’t believe in not ordering liquor forward when he was paying for drinks, but there was no reason to not indulge the suggestion and the curiosity (after all what on earth warranted the name?) and he ordered two with the raising of his fingers casually, elbow leaned on the rather tacky feeling bar top. Disgraceful, when would people actually learn how to use proper wood cleaner as to not damage the finish and leave cleaner residue?

“Can’ speak on b’fore Remy got here, but since den, dem nuts is so unfondled dey migh’ turn blue if ya wait any longer.” This response was given in such a straight-faced manner that it was a struggle to not laugh at himself but he managed. Innuendo was after all one of his favorite ways to act up in any situation. They tended to open up doors, either with the approval of the wit used if it were a clever enough one, or serve to pique interest that might have already been there. Whether he was even aiming for any result there was something he hadn’t quite decided yet, however.

At the sound from the entrance, Remy looked away from Anakin to the girls, observing how many and of course noted the bride amongst them. This was one of those situations that usually resulted in an uptick of chaos, at least momentarily. Bridal parties did tend to pre-game, and this was not their first stop of the night at all. He smoothly moved slightly out of the way of sloshing alcohol and overly gratuitous neckline spillage, not that he was particularly complaining about the latter, and observed. He had no intentions of trying to get very friendly with the women, although he had no problem acknowledging them. What he did not acknowledge was the palming of what was something altogether too small to be a wallet, and since these were the chances one took when being overly loud, drunk, and pressed up against another without precautions against such liberties, he did nothing, even found it respectable, especially with the condition of the hand Anakin had done it with. Remy knew there was nothing he would want from the group, but there is a satisfaction and even good practice in knowing you can snag something without notice. It was simply rarely useful in places such as New York where everyone and their mother was carrying only credit cards. And the poor fuck with a thick envelope of cash headed to the rental office was absolutely off limits, so Remy’s targets were generally spaced out, selective, unless he was simply practicing by means of replacing the item before it was ever noticed to have gone missing.

The entire conversation he’d been fiddling with his drink, his jacket, the playing cards that were always in his pocket. There is something of an art to not moving too much when seeking business, distracting from one’s face or other movements, while also making sure as to not look like you are waiting for a sniper to take you or the person you are speaking to out. It was sometimes infuriating, it was sometimes forgotten when too stressed or aggravated to care, but Remy did not have so much alcohol in his system as to be jittery or twitchy, simply casually busy. Occupied hands keeps de bees out. That was his explanation for how it was easier to focus while there was something he was actively doing. Were it not very public, he might even pull out the lockpick set and practice lock he enjoyed using in repetition, at this point without ever so much as looking at it while he popped the locking mechanism over and over. But it was public, and while he figured few people here would notice or even could care, he also didn’t feel like playing all stupid games tonight. He had to keep some basic semblance of having a head on his shoulders even while drinking.

The attempt to assure Remy he was not boring elicited a chuckle and he shrugged. “Don’ gotta ‘pologize f’speakin’ truth. Mos’ people are borin’. ‘N annoyin’ if’n we wanna get real truthful. On account of dey think dey ain’ borin’n important on top of it. So’s only shitty if’n dey dere t’hear’n make a fuss ‘bout it.”

He’s reached the point where the drinks (that Pink Squirrel had been as he’d predicted mostly mixers that had shared some space with alcohol at some point in transit to the bar but had not in quite some time shared intimate space with the vital part of a cocktail) were at least starting to work their way further into his system and the nervous shifting of Anakin’s foot, and slight shift in posture does not put him on red alert. No. He isn’t worried about Problems from him. He wasn’t changing to a familiarity that would cause concern, and that was really all he cared about. If he wasn’t from the Guilds, he was simply working him for a different reason.

The admission that he was working made him raise one eyebrow slightly, tongue pulling slightly at his lower lip as he nodded and debated with himself how to respond. If he went along, he was possibly going to have to avoid becoming the thief who got had. On the other, he was curious, and he was also bored of routine. This would be anything but, and it would be money well spent if for nothing else than someone who wasn’t a damn tourist, or someone trying to give him grief for a past he had long walked away from. It wouldn’t even really require follow-through, not that that kind of good time was something abhorrent to him. He just didn’t feel like being a raging nymphomaniac was why Anakin had chosen this line of work.

“On account of d’fact m’clothes’n watch ain’ from K-Mart, huh?” he said with amusement. There was plenty of other indicators to the fact he wasn’t strapped for cash, but his wardrobe did have a consistency to it unless he was forced to wear cheaper options to avoid ruining his good clothes as soon as he put them on. He had sworn off ever wearing anything close to resembling a hand-me-down ever since he could afford not to. Maybe it was compensating for his youth, but he was okay with it and so that was all that mattered. “Could kinda get de feel f’when someone workin’. On account of playin’ de game wid higher stakes, sha. But ya wanna gimme a rundown of de menu, mebbe we can continue enjoyin’ de night in less public places. Less ya deathly allergic t’cats. Den Ah ain’ got no options f’ya.”

#mynameisanakin #v; undetermined

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obiwanobi · 3 years

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I blame @quiet-oracle and @theevildevices for this, because I couldn’t resist the urge to write 2k of hurt/comfort for the ‘Jedi but enemies’ AU, where Qui-Gon trained Anakin, and now him and Obi-Wan are well-known for despising each other but working exceptionally well together when they’re not lost in ridiculous banters and petty arguments to hide the fact that they’ll be lost without each other;

Obi-Wan winces.

Skywalker’s hand immediately withdraws. “Does it bother you when I—”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“The answer is still the same.”

Skywalker’s sigh is heavier than the entire Republic navy.

His mouth is too close to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he shivers as a result. But it’s only because the cold of the never-ending rain outside still lingers on their clothes and in their bones, even under the tent and close to the portable heater that a clone is still trying to adjust. And also because he’s been sitting there bare-chested for the past five minutes, with Skywalker’s clumsy fingers poking at his hip and ribs, probably way harder than necessary, just to see him suffer.

“I can apply a bacta patch myself, you can go n—”

“Would you please shut up? We both know a bacta patch wouldn’t be enough.”

Only the sound of a packet of antiseptic wipes being opened, gauze being stretched and the clone pushing buttons with no effect can be heard for a moment.

“I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me before,” Obi-Wan notes lightly, then grimaces when Skywalker starts pulling on the cloth pressed to his side.

“Don’t get used to it. But if it’s the only way to make you stop being so difficult and contradictory all the time, I will gladly say it more.”

Instead of looking at his own wound —the pain in his hip is enough, thank you, he doesn't need to see the extent of the damages— Obi-Wan glances at Skywalker. Gaze focused and mouth in a thin line, there’s only concentration written on his face.

No one could guess that only half an hour ago, on the battlefield, panic and terror were the only two emotions Skywalker was projecting loud enough in the Force to bring Obi-Wan out of unconsciousness.

Unbelievable, Obi-Wan has thought once he was aware enough to realise that it was Skywalker's hands on his face and Skywalker’s voice in his ear, begging him to come back. He would find a way to be annoying enough to drag me out of a coma if he could.

Surprisingly, the thought has felt like a comfort.

The clone working on the heater stands up suddenly. Obi-Wan almost forgot about him. He nods his head towards them, and goes out of the tent at the exact same moment Hyoid enters.

At the sight of the clone, all modicum of appreciation for Skywalker evaporate.

“You called a medic?” Obi-Wan scowls, with the tone of someone who has just been the victim of a vicious mutiny.

“Of course I called a medic. Half of your tunic is covered in your own blood and you were knocked out for a while earlier, what do you think I was going to do? Tell you to go back out there and watch you slowly bleed to death?”

“Generals,” the medic calls. In vain.

“You would enjoy that,” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“Well, yes, but then the Council will ask me why I let you die just a few meters away from a first aid kit, and then I’ll have to explain that I gently push it away from your weak hands every time you reached for it, and how will I look, then?”

“Like someone who could have let me die on the battlefield and get away with it, but decided instead to choose the most idiotic and time-consuming option available, and I would have enjoyed that very much.”

“Generals.”

“Exactly,” Skywalker nods, “and I can’t let you enjoy things.”

“I know. Don’t think I never realised who was flushing the toilets every time I was in the shower when the hot water came back two days ago.”

“You were so cheerful,” Skywalker says, as if the mere thought disgusts him. “I took that as a personal affront.”

“Sirs, please,” Hyoid implores louder. Both Jedi turn towards him, almost surprised to see him there. “I’m just here to see General Kenobi’s injury, I’m sure you can continue your conversation right after. Sirs. Please.”

It takes them a second to realise that they’re sitting so close together that Obi-Wan’s hand has settled on Skywalker’s knee when they weren’t paying attention, while Skywalker’s fingers are still maintaining Obi-Wan’s pants low on his hip so it won’t come in contact with the long gash on his side. The intimacy of the scene isn’t completely lost on Skywalker, it seems, because he rushes to take his hands away and stands next to his chair, suddenly too self-conscious to know what to do with himself.

“I’m very sorry about him,” Obi-Wan apologises, as the medic takes Skywalker’s seat and starts assessing the mess Skywalker undoubtedly made of his hip and ribs. “He’s a rescue. He still has no idea how to behave appropriately in polite society.”

An outraged noise comes from Skywalker behind him, and despite the throbbing pain, Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up. A hiss replaces his smile rapidly enough when Hyoid applies a spray and starts cleaning what Skywalker missed, before pressing stingy patches on the wound.

The medic is wise enough not to reply to him, but it doesn’t stop him from making a comment or two about how ‘this isn’t superficial sir, you should be more careful from now on,’ or ‘you’ll have to change the bandages, and I’ll get some pills for you to take’ and ‘ok, now let’s see your head, sir, don’t think General Skywalker didn’t mention it’.

His head is, indeed, becoming heavier by the minute, and he can feel himself growing too tired to care enough to listen carefully after that. Once he gives up answering questions and lets Skywalker do it for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to concentrate to feel him poking obnoxiously at him in the Force, testing the limits of his consciousness. It reminds him a bit of when Skywalker was a child, tugging on his robe every two minutes to make sure he was paying attention to him.

No wonder Obi-Wan always tried to avoid him.

“All right,” the medic finally says, pulling him out of his reverie. He stands up, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll get you your pills, and then you should rest.”

Rest sounds amazing. Obi-Wan would kill Skywalker for a good mattress and a soft pillow right now. But it doesn’t mean anything; he would probably kill Skywalker for two minutes of peace on the best of days.

The sudden silence that falls under the tent once Hyoid is gone seems almost unnatural. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside unsettles him so much, until he realises that it’s the first time since the battlefield that he’s alone with Skywalker.

“Are you going to keep sulking behind me?” Obi-Wan asks, finding his robe discarded on the floor and wondering if it’s worth leaning down to get it. No reply comes. “Well, you heard the medic. You can go now. I, unfortunately for you, will still live to see another...” he trails off as two arms slide over his shoulders from behind, wrapping around his neck and resting there.

Skywalker is warm against him.

For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he’s finally going to strangle him, but a golden head falls on his shoulder gently, face hidden by a cascade of curls, tickling Obi-Wan's neck and collarbone.

“Skyw—”

“Don’t be an insufferable asshole for a minute,” Skywalker mumbles, breath hot against his bare skin. “Just let me have this.”

Ah. It’s one of those moments, then.

He thought they were done with that for the day after what happened on the battlefield. Earlier.

With Skywalker’s face looming over him. Eyes so wide and so blue. One hand pressed against the wound in his side to stop the bleeding, one hand twisted in Obi-Wan’s tunic, right above his heart.

Being the one injured and barely conscious, but also being the one calming Skywalker down. Managing to get him to release his death-grip on him. Assuring him that he wasn’t going to die.

Promising it.

Twice.

Soothing the Hero with No Fear as he would soothe a lost and abandoned child.

“I told you already,” Obi-Wan says quietly. It feels wrong to speak louder when he knows they won’t look at each other for some time after that. “It’s all right. I’m fine now. It’s over.”

The arms around him tighten, mirroring the weight of Skywalker’s presence in the Force around Obi-Wan.

“I thought you’d left me,” Skywalker says accusingly, sounding remarkably like his nine-year-old self. “I thought you’d left me behind again.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if not seeing it would erase the fact he’s indulging his instinct to nuzzle his face against Skywalker’s hair. He smells like the rain, muddy but fresh, and feels like lingering distress in the Force. It’s far from pleasant to remain close to such an unbalanced mind, and their position isn’t comfortable either. But Obi-Wan doesn’t shiver from the cold anymore. So they don’t move.

They’ve earned that second of weakness.

Obi-Wan’s hand comes up to scratch at Skywalker’s head gently, fingers tangling with unruly locks of hair. Slowly, his muscles relax and he leans into the touch, chest slumped against Obi-Wan’s back. Skywalker’s face turns towards his throat, nestled under his jaw, before exhaling, deep and warm. In the Force, Skywalker’s signature curls against Obi-Wan’s and quiets down to a low satisfied rumble, dragged away from dread and terror one caress at a time.

Obi-Wan’s mind is suddenly way too tired to be bothered by the tenderness of it all.

“I’m here now, with you,” he whispers in his hair. “That’s all that matters.”

It’s a quiet apology that Skywalker accepts with a satisfied humming noise that resonates in Obi-Wan’s whole body.

It feels a bit like an apology for more. For everything. For all the times he avoided and pushed him away as a child. For condemning him for reasons he didn’t want to admit to himself. For wanting to blame him, for taking his master away, for being such a better padawan than he was, for rubbing it in his face.

For wanting to be his friend, always.

Obi-Wan has been wrong for so long.

When the medic comes back, Skywalker is kneeling in front of the heater, cursing it quietly, and Obi-Wan is adjusting his robe around his shoulders with slow movements.

“All right, sir, this is what you’ll have to take before every meal,” Hyoid says, showing him a small bottle, before putting a white box on the table. “And these are the bandages and the bacta to change every day. I would advise you not to do it yourself, and if you don’t have anyone to—“

“I’ll do it,” Skywalker declares without looking up, and Obi-Wan immediately narrows his eyes.

“You? I can’t even trust you with my toothpaste tube, what makes you think—“

“I don’t care what you say Kenobi, there is no wrong way to squeeze toothpaste!”

“There is, and you do it on purpose. What kind of savage would squeeze it right in the middle—”

Skywalker suddenly turns towards Hyoid, talking over him. “How many pills would it take to be considered a lethal dose, do you think?”

It is, of course, the one comment that ignites a virulent and pointless argument that makes the poor medic reconsider all his life choices and wonder if chloroforming Jedi generals would get him court-martialed.

After seven minutes of a loud and dramatic dispute ending with Skywalker promising to never take part in anything related to Kenobi anymore, except maybe his funeral, Hyoid decides to risk it.

#anakin: I can't believe I have to tenderly tend to this bastard's wounds #and take care of him for the rest of our lives #everyone: you don’t have to #anakin: no no I’m gonna #so when are they furiously kiss each other in the middle of a screaming row #obikin #clem's aus #fic i did write #jedi but enemies au

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edgeofn1ght · 4 days

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all you conceal, let out: ch. 2

story summary: After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

ch. 2: While Anakin is forced to wait until he can return home, or anywhere, he decides that he wants (needs) to know more about Ben.

↳ ch. 1

alternate universe travel • obikin • read on ao3 instead

Anakin turned over and it was day once more. He wiped his eyes, wondering if he'd ever stop sleeping. That was all he'd done since landing in this strange place. Without looking, he hesitantly stretched his arm out to the right – the other side was empty, the blanket cold, just as it was the night before.

Well, at least he was still on Stewjon, inside the farmer’s small home.

He sighed and got up again for the second? Third… time? He was completely losing track of the hours and minutes in this place. He could have been asleep for days for all he knew. Pulling back the curtain just as he'd done the day before, he looked out over Ben’s land.

He spotted Ben immediately, but was surprised to find he wasn't alone.

Wandering the garden and the field beyond were also seven or eight children of varying ages and races. Ben was kneeling with a Zabrak child next to him, and they were looking very intently at something in his hand. Ben pointed at his palm with a gentle smile, and the child's face lit up as she looked up at him.

It seemed he had that effect on people in every universe.

Anakin continued to watch as Ben and the children moved around the yard, digging, planting, picking, and harvesting late summer vegetables and fruits. Judging by the talking, he seemed to be teaching all the while and the children were surprisingly very attentive. Memories of when Anakin first became Obi-Wan’s padawan burst to the surface, occupying his thoughts. How in awe he was of the Jedi Knight, how he ate up every little thing Obi-Wan said, but also how frustrating it was to never know what his master was thinking. Obi-Wan was trying his best, Anakin could see it, but it was obvious that Master Qui-Gon’s loss weighed heavily on him, and he kept Anakin at something of an arm's length for a time.

But as his apprenticeship continued, Obi-Wan opened up slowly and carefully. Then Anakin… well. Anakin became difficult, as most teenagers were wont to do, and began to close himself off. He shuddered now to think about his behavior, about some of the things he'd shouted at his master, of how he'd run off to the lower levels of Coruscant to race illegally, of the fights he'd get into with other padawans, then later… his time with Padmé. He cleared his throat, willing the rise of the negative memories and feelings to dissipate.

He hoped these children appreciated the gift Ben was giving them. And if they didn't… maybe Anakin could make them see.

Anakin turned from the window and found all his own clothes cleaned, dried, and folded neatly on the top of the dresser. His cloak hung from a hook on the back of the door, and his boots (also scrubbed clean) stood below his cloak. He washed up and dressed in his pants, under tunic, and boots, trying to make himself more presentable. Just being in his own clean clothes again helped him feel more like himself, which would help him think more clearly. Anakin grabbed a sun apple from the counter in the kitchen then headed outside. Ben looked up as Anakin came closer to where he and a few of the children stood.

"Ah, Anakin, nice of you to join us," he smiled. When the corners of his eyes softened and crinkled, something fluttered in Anakin's chest.

He took a bite of the apple. "I didn't know I was missing something."

"We're learning about the rainbow qaana!" the little Zabrak girl said.

“I'm sure you didn't expect children outside this morning, but this is my class,” Ben chuckled as he waved his arm around. “Being that Stewjon is a largely agricultural society, I teach younglings how to use their gifts to grow and care for plants, recognize fauna and insects, and how to live off the land."

Of course, that made sense – Ben was still a teacher, a master with many apprentices, in addition to being a farmer. What a quiet life he must lead. Anakin was almost jealous.

"I wasn't sure you'd ever wake up today," Ben added, only for Anakin's ears.

"I was tired," he shrugged and took another bite of his apple. That Ben was seemingly waiting for him at all was interesting.

"I'm sure you are. And your body needs to heal from whatever trauma you've endured in your journey."

Anakin looked down to find the little girl staring. She smiled. He didn't know what she was thinking but it was almost surely something she shouldn't be.

"Just know you can sleep as long as you like. I don't have a problem with it," Ben said as he walked closer. He gently touched Anakin's arm – a silent request to follow. "But I do know you want to get home. I commed an acquaintance in town who is heading to the Core Worlds soon and he can take you. Then from there…” Ben hesitated then looked down. “Then from there you can head back to Coruscant. The only downside is the transport won't be here for another week."

"A week?" Anakin asked. It was too much time and not nearly enough.

Ben wouldn't understand that just going to Coruscant wasn't enough. And after his behavior last night, of course Ben would use the first chance he could to get rid of him. He frowned, which Ben noticed.

"I'm sorry, it's the best I could do," he continued as they strolled around the garden. The sound of children's laughter felt out of place as Anakin warred with his emotions. "As you may have guessed, Stewjon isn't exactly the center of commerce and travel, things move a bit slower here."

"But you are more than welcome to stay in my home until then, I won't kick you out," Ben added with a gentle smile. "You just have to put up with my cooking and students sometimes." That was hardly difficult. He'd put up with a lot just to be near Obi-Wan. "I'm sure your people are looking for you though. Have you been able to contact them?"

Anakin cleared his throat. "I haven't tried." It was the truth, but he couldn’t have explained why not.

They were probably worried sick by now. Ahsoka was most likely already out searching with the 501st after not being able to reach him. Maybe she had alerted the Council. Maybe they had pulled their measly political strings to get a search going for him. Maybe Padmé had gotten involved, despite…

No, he hadn't tried to contact a single one of them.

"Does your communicator work? You're welcome to try–"

"Why are you doing all of this?" Anakin quickly interrupted him, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. It wasn't this Ben's fault.

"I figured you'd want to get home to your own family and not waste any more time with some strange hermit you don't even know." Well, that was where he was wrong. Obi-Wan was his family. He would have spent the rest of his life here with him if he'd let him.

Then Anakin suddenly wondered… was his mother alive in this universe? Was she still on Tatooine? A slave? Married to Cliegg? Or a free woman and off on her own adventure somewhere else? He wouldn't even begin to know how to find her if she wasn't exactly where he had left her nearly 13 years ago. But then again, somehow he'd found Obi-Wan, as if cosmic forces brought them together for some reason. It didn't make any sense otherwise. Of all the planets, and all the people he could have landed beside… it wasn't even his mother or his almost-wife, but the man who was the other half of his soul.

Like he was always meant to find him.

"Okay, a week," he finally said as he chucked the core of his apple out into the tall grasses. "I'll try contacting them today."

"Very good," Ben smiled as he patted Anakin's arm then returned to his students.

A week would be a lifetime.

Just as Anakin suspected, he couldn't get in touch with anyone. He couldn’t even pick up any kind of line anywhere. He was ready to throw his communicator against the wall in a fit of rage, but that probably wouldn't help anyone – especially him. At some point while Anakin was in the bedroom, Ben released his class and came back in. The sounds of another person puttering around the house was a comfort. If Anakin closed his eyes, he could imagine he was back in the Temple, in his suite, Obi-Wan visiting and in the kitchen making caf, just like he used to whenever they had an afternoon together away from the war.

It was so calm again, he even contemplated meditation. That’s how he knew he was truly desperate. But then again, maybe if he went deep enough, he could connect to another Jedi or else access memories he needed to help him remember details about the holocron. It wasn't ideal, he hadn't even tried to meditate since Obi-Wan… well, it had been a little over three months since he had meditated at all. His connection felt broken.

He sighed and settled onto the bed, facing the window and looking out towards Ben’s land and beyond. Then he closed his eyes.

All was quiet once more. The planet, its life, even the Force was calm and gentle. The silence wove its way under his skin and into Anakin's bones.

He couldn't get quite used to the notion that Obi-Wan lived some hermit-y life here, alone, farming. Obi-Wan needed to be out there , helping others, putting his talents and skills to good use, not blending into the landscape, virtually unknown. Then another thought sprang to mind. What if Obi-Wan wasn't alone? What if in this universe he actually had a significant other, a husband? A wife? Perhaps even a few children? Though he hadn't mentioned a family, and Anakin couldn't imagine where they could be if not here, but that didn't mean they didn't exist.

He and Obi-Wan couldn’t even be together in a completely different universe, he thought bitterly. And it was worse because, here, Anakin was not part of his life in any way.

His eyes flew open. It was impossible to meditate.

A soft knock came on the door, startling Anakin and he cleared his throat. "Come in."

The door opened slowly and Ben stood there, once again just as real and as whole as he had ever been. "I was going into town for some things, maybe to eat, I thought maybe you'd want to go with me?"

Anakin was actually surprised that he even asked. Unless… "You don't want to let me out of your sight," he accused.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Anakin recognized the look – it was the exact same look Obi-Wan made whenever Anakin did or said something to test his patience. "Not for the reasons you think. And not only that," he admitted. "Mostly I just didn't think you'd want to be lonely."

Maybe Ben is lonely, did you think of that? A voice in Anakin’s head asked.

He pursed his lips and finally nodded, "Well, it's not like there's anything for me to do here anyway."

"Okay then,” Ben smiled. “Meet me outside in ten," and he closed the door.

"You know, you probably should check the axial compressor on this thing!" Anakin shouted over the rumbling of the old speeder. "It's not supposed to knock like that!"

Ben looked over at him, hair whipping across his forehead. "Pardon??" He shouted back.

"The knocking!!" Anakin yelled louder and made a knocking gesture. "Is! Not! Normal!"

"Oh! Yes, I know!" Ben yelled back, grinning.

"Why don't you fix it??" It was utterly ridiculous and useless to have a conversation like this, he didn’t know why he tried in the first place, but Ben just kept smiling. Anakin was sure he didn't actually hear him and now was simply ending the conversation for both their sakes.

When they arrived, Ben parked his speeder on the edge of the small town alongside other fancier speeders, swoops, and a pen where an eopie and a nekko wandered around, snuffling at the grass. Ben pulled his goggles off his face and hung them around his neck. Anakin wanted to laugh at the imprint they had made around Ben's eyes and on his cheeks, but it was endearing, so he didn't.

Ben hoisted a few large bags out of the back, then hefted one over his shoulder. "Would you mind terribly grabbing the other?"

Anakin scoffed, "Oh, I see now why you wanted me to come with you. It was a ploy for me to work ." Ben grinned and turned towards the main street.

Life in town was far and away more than Anakin had seen since his arrival. As it turned out, there really was more to Stewjon than just Ben and his students. Now he knew for sure he wasn't dreaming because there was no way his mind could conjure all these people and places – it was too detailed, too intricate.

"I haven't fixed my speeder because I don't have all the technical know-how to repair speeder engines, or the parts and tools,” Ben said after a few moments of silence. “And I don't have the time or money to leave it at a mechanic to be fixed.”

"Oh," Anakin replied. "Well, I can be quite handy with mechanics and repairs, I could take a look before I leave?"

Ben looked at him briefly then away again. "Well that would be very helpful."

"It's nothing," Anakin said as he repositioned the bag on his shoulder. "It's the least I can do."

"You don't owe me anything, you know that right?" Anakin didn't answer. Maybe that was true. Maybe he believed it. But he wanted to help him. It was still Obi-Wan, and he would have done anything for him.

They eventually arrived at an outdoor market where Ben sold much of the week's harvest. The market was a cacophony of noise from the merchants, vendors, shoppers, livestock, and children running to and fro. Its liveliness reminded Anakin of Tatooine – poor but (mostly) friendly merchants just trying to make their way in an unfriendly economy and hostile galaxy. And even though Stewjon was part of the Republic, and Tatooine belonged to the Hutts, it wasn’t a rich society, just as Ben had said. Maybe other cities on the planet had more wealth, but here where Ben was settled… not so much.

As they approached one of the stalls, a Devaronian vendor eyed Anakin suspiciously. "Who's this then?" He asked in a gruff voice as Ben handed him one of his sacks.

"Oh, this is my, ehm, cousin Markl," Ben replied, carefully avoiding Anakin's gaze. Good thing, too, because Anakin knew he looked confused. It wouldn’t do to give himself away so quickly. "He's come in from Coruscant for a week or so."

The Devaronian harrumphed. "Oh, Coruscant, eh? So y'think you're fancy, eh?" Anakin wanted to laugh. If he only knew.

"Now, now, Juhk Holloq, is that really any way to treat our visitor? Where's that famous Stewjonian hospitality?"

Juhk scoffed, "You forget I'm not from here."

“My apologies then for my oversight,” Ben chuckled. The Devaronian handed over a rather small amount of credits to Ben, who pocketed it right away. “Well, thank you again for your business, we'll be getting along now. See you again in a couple weeks." Anakin wanted to protest the measly sum – it wasn't nearly enough – but he thought better of making a scene his first time in town.

"Why didn't you get more?" He asked as they left and headed further into town. "Also, Markl??"

Ben smiled, "I don't really know. The name just came to me. It didn't seem like I should be giving out your real name, considering you're a general in the Grand Army of the Republic."

"Well, perhaps…"

"And also, that price is fair here," Ben continued. "I wish I could ask for more, but in case you haven't figured it out yet, we're not a very affluent society like you might be used to in Coruscant. Juhk's been fair with me, and if it's low, it’s probably because he doesn’t have much himself to offer. Sometimes it's like we're all but forgotten by the Republic. We're doing what we can to get by."

Anakin frowned. He'd heard that exact line numerous times, particularly as a reason to join the Separatist movement. Citizens on dozens of worlds had become convinced that the Republic no longer cared for them, and Dooku and his ilk stepped in, persuading them that the Confederacy of Independent Systems would, making promises they would never keep. Anakin wondered what the citizens of Stewjon felt in his own universe.

He continued to follow in silence as they visited a few other stores and picked up things Ben needed. He only wished his Obi-Wan could see him now – following after him dutifully without complaint or wandering off, or even starting a fight. Obi-Wan wouldn't have believed it. They stepped out of a gardening shop where Ben bought more seed, then he stopped in the street.

"Would you care for a drink?" Ben asked. He wasn't looking at Anakin though. He actually seemed to be looking everywhere BUT Anakin. “Call it a payment for your efforts.”

If Anakin wasn't careful, his debts to the man would rack up. "Yes, okay," he answered.

"Very good, right this way,” Ben smiled and handed him another small bag to carry. It was a fair trade-off.

At the other end of the street from where they parked sat a cantina called The Last Stop. Its name, combined with the general ancient look and feel of it, felt a bit ominous. The building had definitely seen better days. An equally-as-ancient swoop bike was parked outside next to an eopie and a few orbaks, which were all tied to a post, sleeping while standing. Despite the outward appearance, Anakin had most likely been in seedier places in the lower levels of Coruscant. And his Obi-Wan most likely had, too, but he never talked about it. What Anakin had heard came in small snatches of tales from Luminara Unduli and Quinlan Vos, the latter of which Obi-Wan had used the Force on to shut his mouth as soon as he began to talk about one particular night shortly after Obi-Wan was knighted. To this day Anakin still had never heard that story.

They walked inside the cantina, and it really wasn't much better.

First, Anakin followed Ben down a long, barely-lit corridor. Short benches lined the path, presumably for patrons who couldn't quite make it outside and needed a rest. All were empty save one where a human male sat slumped against the wall, hat pulled down low over his face. He looked like a hat with a giant ginger beard. As they walked closer, he let out a loud snort of a snore that made Anakin jump.

Ben laughed, "That'll be Baran, right in his favorite spot, as usual."

At the end of the hall, they came to a large wooden door where a gatekeeper droid shot out of the wall and examined them both. A few long, agonizing moments went by as the eye stalk examined Anakin closely, then finally the inner door to the cantina opened. A long, dark wooden bar took up one side of the cantina, while tables and booths sat along the wall opposite under the windows. Two patrons sat at the bar top where a bartender droid poured something bright purple into a short glass. Four other patrons were scattered amongst the tables on the other side, and at the end of the room was a small empty stage which looked like it hadn't seen action in years.

"Why don't you grab us a seat there?" Ben said, gesturing to the small round booth closest to the stage. "And I'll get some drinks. Any requests?"

Anakin shook his head, "Surprise me."

"That's dangerous," Ben grinned. For a brief moment, Anakin wasn't sure if they were still only talking about drinks.

Anakin flopped down onto the dark green velvety cushion which was surprisingly more comfortable than he expected. He settled in and spread his arms out along the back of the round seat then watched Ben at the bar. From this vantage point, he couldn't hear what was being said, but he could tell he was friendly with the bartender. They shared some kind of joke, and Ben threw his head back and laughed, baring all his white teeth. The sound made something inside Anakin's gut twist painfully. It had been such a long time since he’d heard Obi-Wan laugh like that. So ‘Obi-Wan’ had good looks and charm in every universe, it seemed. Though Ben had been much quieter at his home, he was outgoing and friendly now, right when he needed to be. None of that was any different from the Obi-Wan Anakin knew. In fact, the more he got to know Ben, the less different they seemed. They were dangerously close to merging into one being.

Was it possible that they really were just exactly the same person but only in different circumstances? It made him wonder again what he himself was like here? Did he even make it off Tatooine? Or worse, did he even exist at all?

Before Anakin could spiral too far into that particular line of thought, Ben came over, carrying two small glasses of a purple and red drink. He set one down in front of Anakin then slid into the booth next to him. Anakin nearly flinched when he felt the toe of Ben’s boot collide with his own boots under the table, but he didn't move.

"One Stewjonian Sunset."

Before picking up his glass, Anakin watched as Ben downed half of his own in one gulp, completely unfazed. Just like his old master. He picked up his drink and examined it. The top part of the liquid was a bright red which faded into a deep purple at the bottom of the glass. When he sniffed it, it smelled sweet but strong, with the faintest hint of something floral. The thought that it could have been poisoned by anyone, least of all Ben, didn't even cross his mind.

"It's Scrappie's specialty," Ben said as he watched Anakin examine the glass. "It's Stewjonian whisky from our highlands, meiloorun juice, and the elderflower. Nothing to be afraid of." There was an honest-to-goodness twinkle in his eyes, and for the first time since he'd arrived in this strange place, Anakin wanted to kiss him. And he wasn't even drunk.

He shifted in his seat, "Scrappie?"

Ben chuckled, "We saved him from the scrap yard then gave him the job here. We thought the name fit." If Anakin wasn't careful, he was in great danger of falling in love with him within the week. He took a sip of his drink.

The purple liquid tasted nice and sweet (which was also dangerous), but as it moved down his throat, it began to warm. Then the alcohol hit. Anakin sputtered and coughed, spraying purple rain all over the table and a bit on Ben’s sleeve, and the man had the gall to laugh. But then he did something Anakin didn't expect – he slapped him on the back a few times then rubbed his large hand soothingly across Anakin's shoulder blades.

"Sorry," he said between coughs. “Sorry…” Ben wiped the purple drink off the table then his sleeve as Anakin wiped his mouth with the back of his own tunic sleeve.

"I guess you're not used to drinking then?" Ben asked as he raised an eyebrow.

Anakin coughed a few more times. "No, I drink! I drink!" He didn't know why he felt defensive over it. Obi-Wan had told him long ago it was fine if he never did. Really, he just hated to embarrass himself in front of this Obi-Wan, even though he'd basically done nothing but that since his arrival. He took another small sip just to prove his point. Ben watched him with a small smirk as he finished his own drink in one large gulp.

"I take it you're a regular," Anakin said and immediately regretted it – it sounded biting and accusatory.

"Someone has to keep them in business," he looked down into his empty glass then turned to Scrappie. "Keep! Another round!" He turned back to Anakin and settled his gaze on him. Anakin was sure the man could see through to his soul. He'd always felt like that around Obi-Wan. "So then… do you mind explaining where you're really from?”

Anakin swallowed hard under Ben’s very direct gaze. "I told you, Coruscant, but I was born on Tatooine."

"And you just happened to appear on my land without a speeder or ship or any other transport in sight, raving like a lunatic and calling out my name even though I don't know you,” Ben leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not to mention talking about Jedi and Sith and the 501st, whatever that is, and a galactic war which doesn't exist." Anakin felt like whatever he said, Ben wouldn't believe so why even try? But try again he did.

"I don't know how, okay?" Anakin said, leaning forward into the table and bringing his voice down into a harsh whisper. "One second I'm off world, looking for a holocron, then next thing I know, I'm waking up on your couch. I'm a Jedi! And a general! And there is a war on! " Ben watched him, inscrutable as ever. Not a single muscle in his face twitched at Anakin’s outburst.

Scrappie brought over four more glasses of the purple stuff. "You look like you could use at least two more," he said in his tinny voice.

"Ah, yes," Ben said as he wrapped his fingers around another glass. "You always know just what I need, Keep." As he drank from the new glass, he continued to watch Anakin. He knew Ben didn't believe him and honestly, he was probably right to. Of course he sounded like a lunatic, of course none of it made sense.

"I've never been to Tatooine," Ben said instead.

"It's a shithole, consider yourself lucky," Anakin said, slamming back the rest of his drink, this time without any issues. To think of Obi-Wan never stepping foot on the planet where they met… it defied comprehension.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up in surprise then he huffed a laugh. "Noted. I didn't have travel plans for it in my future anyway."

"I was born a slave, all right? I was born a slave then the Jedi saved me but they weren't there for the first nine years of my life. Then I had no choice but to leave my mother behind. She just wanted a better life for me."

Ben’s face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry, Anakin." He reached across the small table and wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s. His hand was surprisingly warm, and the fingers were calloused and rough, like laborer's hands.

He wanted to snatch his hand away from this stranger's grip, but then calmed considerably when Ben began to move his thumb back and forth, stroking his skin softly. He couldn't remember the last time he had been touched so gently, and certainly never by Obi-Wan. Sure, he had given him hugs, reassuring pats on the shoulder and the like, but nothing like this. Nothing that made Anakin wonder whether he might actually want him, too .

He finally pulled his hand away and looked down at the table, "It is what it is. I can't change it."

Ben lifted his drink with a soft smile. "Too right. Then one must always make the best of their situation if they're unable to change it."

Anakin huffed, "You should still be a Jedi." Ben’s eyes crinkled at the corners then he finished his drink.

He wanted to know more about Ben but the man wasn't very forthcoming with information… but surely he would answer if Anakin asked directly.

"Where is your family?"

Ben's eyebrows shot up in surprise, then he answered after a beat. "They are dead. They died many years ago."

"Oh," Anakin replied. It wasn't at all the answer he expected, and it made his heart ache even more. "So, then, you live here alone? And you take care of the farm yourself?"

"Yes, I live alone on my farm," he sighed. "Most of my help comes from my students, and other townsfolk from time to time, as favors to me."

"Oh, I see." It made sense that somehow Ben would rack up favors in this way. Maybe unintentionally, and certainly not something he'd keep track of, but if he really was anything like his Obi-Wan, then it would just happen . Everyone would like him.

"How long have you had it?”

Ben chuckled then leaned back, getting comfortable. "Well, I migrated over here after attending university on the other side of the planet. There's a large, wonderful school in one of our metropolitan cities–”

"I have to say I'm surprised,” Anakin interrupted.

"You assumed the entire planet was as you see here," Ben finished for him.

"Well, yes," Anakin took another sip of his drink. The alcohol was sweet and warm now – he could easily become addicted. "You said it was an agricultural society, so I assumed it all was."

"Maybe more like 80 or 90 percent." Just then a couple more patrons entered the cantina and made their way to the bar. A human male amongst the quartet looked over to where Ben and Anakin sat, made eye contact, and tipped his hat.

"Kenobi!” He called in a smooth, deep voice.

Ben just smiled as he returned to his drinks. Anakin looked between the two of them as the small group took seats at the bar. An uneasy jealousy took a sudden hold of him, but it was nothing to the name which the man called him.

“So… Kenobi?” He pursed his lips as his mystery deepened.

"My family name.”

"You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask," he replied, almost in challenge.

Anakin huffed, "I see." He ground his teeth, flexing his jaw muscles. "How old are you?"

"41."

"Do you have any children?"

Ben chuckled, "No."

"Have you ever been married?"

"Also no."

"Well then have you ever been in love?" He didn't know why he asked that. He wanted to know, but he also desperately wanted to take it back immediately.

Ben's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "Yes.”

"Are you now?"

Ben took a long sip of his drink, finishing it off as he stared at Anakin. "Why do you want to know all of these things? Am I in trouble? Is this an inquisition, or perhaps you're actually some kind of spy sent here for nefarious purposes?"

Anakin cleared his throat, "Just trying to get to know you."

"So, you can leave in a week,” Ben stated. He had him there. He was leaving, and asking such personal questions wasn't going to get him off this planet any faster, his prying only served to satisfy his own curiosity – and fuel a surprising jealousy. As if he had any right to be jealous of Ben. Anakin didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

"And what about you then?" Ben asked, leaning forward on the table and coming closer to Anakin. "Are you in love now?"

His gaze flicked between Ben’s stormy blue-grey eyes and his mouth as he spoke. His lips were bright red from the meiloorun fruit in the drink, and Anakin wanted to find out if they were as sweet and warm as the alcohol. He hoped the man didn't notice.

"No, er… no," Anakin lied. "Or… yes. Yes."

Ben arched an eyebrow, "So, is it no or yes?"

"I don't know," Anakin slumped down into the booth.

Ben’s features softened into something kind and knowing. "Maybe I should get us something to eat," Ben said as he slid out of the booth. "Perhaps we've had too much alcohol and not enough food."

Anakin sank further down into his seat. His head was starting to feel a bit fuzzy. Actually, more than just a bit fuzzy, more muddled and hazy. His inhibitions had already lowered quite a bit, and he was well on his way to doing something he'd probably regret. But… why should he regret it? He was alive and more content than he'd felt in a very long time. He felt more 'in the moment' despite being somewhere he shouldn't be at all, someplace he still didn't know or understand but he still wasn't alarmed. He felt safe. Ben made him feel safe.

Was he in love now?

Most certainly yes. But he didn't know if it was with this unknown man and his charm and what he could be for Anakin, or how he could fill the large gaping hole in Anakin's heart.

Ben returned a few minutes later with some small plates to share, and they ate them more or less in silence. And as the time dragged on, he became tired again. The alcohol, combined with whatever he had been through, was wreaking more havoc in his body. So, after they finished, Ben offered to get the speeder by himself and come pick him up, but Anakin insisted on walking, so he stumbled back down the street, sometimes with a little assistance (which may or may not have been intentional).

Back home and exhausted, Anakin fell back onto the couch, pawing at his side.

"Anakin, are you alright there?" Somehow in the time it had taken to pull off his boots and peel off his outer layer, Ben had made some caf for them both. He set the cups down on the table in front of the couch.

"Yeah I'm just…ugh," he said as he tried to re-situate himself where he sat.

"Is your side bothering you? Maybe I need to check the bandage, would you mind?"

The truth was, Anakin would mind very much. The thought of Ben touching him at all right now was too much to bear. But–

"No, I don't… okay," he said instead.

"Remove your shirt then and I'll go get my medkit," Ben waved his hand in Anakin's direction, completely unconcerned with his inner turmoil. Logically , he knew Ben had cleaned him up when he had arrived here, but he had been passed out and unaware. Not awake and already craving the touch. Ben returned with a small medkit and sat on the sofa next to him as he finished removing his under tunic. He looked down at the bandage and saw a spot of bright red.

"Ah, it looks like the wound might have reopened," he said, immediately reaching for the bandage. His fingers barely touched Anakin's skin but Anakin couldn't help but flinch anyway. "I've barely done anything yet!" Ben huffed a laugh and he felt the warm air on his neck. Anakin looked up to find the older man close now. So very close. And giving him that gentle lopsided grin that he always loved so well. He could even see the barest hint of a dimple above the edge of his beard.

"I know, I–" Anakin stuttered. "Just the expectation of pulling it off… I guess."

Ben dragged calloused fingers gently along the edge of the bandage, setting Anakin's skin ablaze. "I'll be gentle, I promise." He nodded shakily and inhaled deeply through his nose.

Obi-Wan had never been anything but gentle. A gentle smile, a gentle, reassuring touch on his shoulder or back as if to say, 'I'm here at your side' or 'I've got your back.' Even when Anakin felt embarrassed or chastised, or like he'd greatly disappointed his master. Even in their harshest, most difficult moments, Anakin knew the instruction was given in love, even if it didn't feel like it.

He was so lost in thought, in the feel of Ben’s hands on his ribs, that he didn't even realize he had already gotten the bandage completely off.

"Just as I thought," Ben said as he began to dig through the kit. Anakin looked down to see a single line of bright red blood roll slowly down towards the waistline of his pants. Ben pressed a bit of gauze to the leaking wound. "Here, hold this there for a moment." Anakin placed his hand over top of Ben's fingers and pressed, holding the gauze and Ben’s hand there, not wanting to let go. After a moment, Ben carefully slipped his fingers out from under Anakin's.

He felt like his world was spinning. Was it the alcohol? The fact that he was losing blood? That Ben was so close? Perhaps a combination of all three. He gently pulled back the bit of gauze to look at the cut. He had no memory of getting that wound at all.

"What did I do?" He asked dumbly.

Ben huffed a laugh, "You really don't remember?"

Anakin shook his head. "I remember everything hurting. And mud. Then the sound of your landspeeder."

He smiled, "Of course you would remember that."

"It was the sound of help!" Anakin looked up and met soft blue-grey eyes.

Ben uncapped a small tube of something and moved his focus back to the wound. "Since I know nothing about how you got to my field, I can only assume that you ran into something before you got there, or perhaps fell onto something and cut open your side." Anakin flinched again when he felt a bit of cool gel touch his skin.

"Why did it not cut a hole in my tunics?"

Ben chuckled softly, “Well I'm pleased to hear you didn't notice the mending. That means I did a good job repairing them."

Oh. Ben mended his clothes? Could his Obi-Wan do that? He had never even asked.

He hissed when he felt Ben’s fingers push into his side. "And what are you doing now?" The question came out in a rush, as if all one word.

"This is a glue which will bind the skin together, rather than having to stitch the skin." Ben carefully covered over the bit of the wound that had reopened. "I'm sorry to say though that I'm rather low on bacta, so you will have a bit of a scar." Anakin looked up just in time to see Ben’s eyes roaming, slowly taking in Anakin's naked torso. "Though you don't seem to be a stranger to them."

Anakin didn't know how he did it, but he managed to remain perfectly still as Ben’s fingers danced over his skin, gently touching all his scars. He called upon years of Jedi training and meditation to steady his breath as fingers skated over a small sunburst that sat just under his left pectoral muscle – a bit of blaster fire taken at a medium range. The 501st medic, Bones, had told him he'd been supremely lucky the clanker had been a terrible shot. Ben didn't ask about any of them but just touched them with such tenderness Anakin could feel tears welling in his eyes.

"Oh, apologies," Ben said suddenly and stopped. He grabbed another large bandage and tore it open with his teeth. Anakin let out the longest exhale of his life as Ben fit the bandage over the wound, covering it carefully and completely.

"There we are," he said, packing back up the medkit. "You're good to go. I hope." Then Ben stood quickly and left, leaving Anakin wondering what the hell just happened.

'Good to go'? Not bloody likely. If Anakin spent any more time with this man, he would never leave.

Anakin needed time to be alone, to think. Being around Obi-Wan again was getting his head turned so upside down, he didn't know which way was up. Worst of all, because Obi-Wan was here, he really didn't even want to try and find out how to leave. So that afternoon, and well into the early evening, Anakin went on a long walk. Life moved so slowly here he didn't feel right just doing nothing . Especially when Ben was always buzzing around doing everything, constantly working. But he needed to distance himself from the Ben… and his feelings for the man.

It was past dinner when Anakin finally returned. The sun had mostly gone down, casting another gorgeous sunset on the land as he walked through fields back to the house. He felt as if the drink in the cantina was very aptly named. Perhaps all the Stewjonian sunsets were this beautiful. He came upon the back side of the house this time and found Ben alone out in his garden again. He couldn't tell exactly what he was doing, but Anakin laughed to himself as he watched Ben bend down and stand up, disappearing and reappearing behind the tall plants again and again. As Anakin came closer, Ben stopped.

"You returned.” He smiled, but sounded surprised.

The loose shirt he was wearing was once again opened to mid-breastbone and askew displaying a tan, hairy chest. A lock of his sun-kissed hair fell across his forehead, and Anakin's head emptied of every rational thought.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Why would you?" Ben returned.

Why would he indeed when he should be finding his way off this planet and back home. "My things?" The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Ah, yes, of course," Ben said. He bent down and gathered a few more of his tomatoes and put them in the sack he had slung across his body. It looked rather full. "Well, I saved you some dinner, if you're hungry."

As Anakin’s eyes adjusted to the twilight, he began to notice tiny intermittent flashes of light around them in the garden. There was no rhyme or reason to the light, it appeared for a second then it was gone again. A few of the lights seemed to be hovering around Ben and he couldn’t help but stare.

“What is it?” Ben finally asked.

“The lights,” Anakin said, pointing into the empty space between them. He never knew where the lights would be next, but surely the other man saw them, too.

“Oh,” Ben said, then suddenly reached out and grabbed one of the lights as it flashed. He cupped his hands together then nodded his head towards Anakin. “Come here.” Anakin came closer until he was shoulder to shoulder with him. Ben slowly opened his hands just a crack then held them out towards Anakin. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“Look inside,” he said, holding his hands out. Anakin finally leaned in close enough to peer inside. Within the dark cavern of Ben’s hands, the gentle yellow-orange light flashed again, then again and again. Anakin stood back up smiling widely.

“Lantern bugs,” Ben said. “The bioluminescence comes from an organ on the underside of their bellies. They flash in the hopes of attracting a mate. We see them during twilight in our warmer months, near the end of the season.” Whichever universe Ben was in, he was the consummate teacher. And forever interested in studying bugs.

Anakin stood still, dumbstruck as Ben opened his hands and released the lantern bug back into the air. He watched it flash several more times as it flew up and away from the two of them. When he turned back to the older man, he was watching him, another inscrutable expression on his face.

"For what it's worth, I am glad you didn't leave yet." He smiled then headed back inside. Anakin followed – eventually. He was too stunned by the admission to move.

In the kitchen, Ben washed his harvest of tomatoes while Anakin got his dinner. They were silent but it wasn't at all awkward – it felt natural and oddly domestic. That feeling like he belonged here returned. It was strange how easily he could imagine himself here by this Obi-Wan’s side.

Anakin sat down to eat while Ben continued his work.

“Did you find what you needed out there?” Ben asked after a while.

“Not really, no,” he answered. But that was THE question, wasn't it?

"Can I help you then?" Ben turned around and leaned against the sink.

Ha! Not when you don't really believe me. "As much as I appreciate it, I don't think you can."

"Well," he turned away from Anakin again. "If I can before you're set to leave in four days, let me know."

Four days.

Help would be there on Coruscant. Someone in the Jedi Temple could help him even if they didn't know him. His 'ravings' about a holocron would make sense to someone.

But he wasn't sure he'd be able to leave Obi-Wan behind again.

#obikin #my writing #never a jedi au #alternate universe #universe travel #obi wan x anakin #fanfic

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writing-is-thorapy · 2 years

Text

Deadcember Day 20: “I’ll Be Back Soon. I Promise”

Ahsoka survived.

After weeks (or was it months? She doesn’t really know) of running, of constantly looking over her shoulder, of foraging for food and water, of trying her best to protect herself and her fellow Padawans, it’s finally over.

The wookies that aid in their escape graciously take her, O-Mer, and Jinx back to the Jedi Temple. She watches as they leave Wasskah’s atmosphere and make the jump to hyperspace, more than happy to never, ever see that place again.

The Padawans are given two rooms on the ship. While the others chat quietly in one of the rooms, Ahsoka takes the opportunity to meditate. It takes her longer than normal to sink into the Force; she keeps startling right as she is about to lose awareness of her immediate surroundings, fearful of what may sneak up behind her, what may take advantage of her vulnerability. But she knows she is among friends and allies, and slowly coaxes herself to relax.

The Force is… unsettled, she notices. There’s a feeling of foreboding, as if she’s standing on a precipice, staring into the yawning void below. Her bond with Anakin is strained, too; she knows he was probably worried, frantic in his tireless attempts to locate her, but there’s something more. Something… dark.

And Obi-Wan—

She can’t even feel Obi-Wan.

Where is Obi-Wan?

Her heart sinks as she considers the possibilities.

She would’ve known if he was killed, would’ve felt his death even with the moon’s mildly Force-suppressive qualities.

Right?

She drags herself out of her meditative state, unwilling to go deeper for fear of what she might find.

Instead, Ahsoka gazes at the swirling blue light of hyperspace as it slowly lulls her to sleep.

%#%#%

Her rest is fitful, full of disjointed nightmares that don’t quite feel like her own.

She spends the rest of the trip with O-Mer and Jinx. The other two are nearly shaking with excitement to be back at the Temple, but are also apprehensive.

“We’ve been gone for so long,” Jinx is saying. “What if they think we’re no longer fit to be Padawans?”

“I’m sure it’ll all work out,” Ahsoka assures them.

The ship finally reaches Coruscant. Her companions glue themselves to the viewports, staring wide-eyed at the sprawling ecumenopolis below.

The ship finally lands at the Jedi Temple, and the Padawans step out into the light. Some healers are waiting for them, as well as Master Yoda and Master Plo.

But there’s no sign of Anakin or Obi-Wan.

Something’s wrong—it’s a feeling that permeates every fiber of her being, this insistent pulse of wrong wrong wrong.

“Padawan Tano,” Master Yoda greets her. “Most relieved you have returned to us, we are. And other lost Padawans, you brought.” Ahsoka inclines her head in response.

“Thank you, Master Yoda. And yes, I found Padawans O-Mer and Jinx, and along with vital help from the wookies, were able to return to you. There was another one of us, as well, but… she didn’t make it.”

“Mourn her, we will. But celebrate her life, as well.”

“Yes, Master.”

Master Yoda smiles at her and wanders off to talk to others. Master Plo greets her, too, expressing his happiness at her return.

No one even mentions Anakin or Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka’s worry only deepens.

%#%#%

It has been nearly one week since Ahsoka returned to the Jedi Temple, and she is just about ready to burst.

She can tell individuals are censoring themselves around her; there’s something unspoken, words that should fill empty spaces, stutters and hesitations in conversations.

For the most part, she’s been holed up in her quarters that she normally shares with Anakin, attempting to catch up on all the work she’s missed, both because of the war and her capture. She tries searching for clues within his room, but comes up empty—besides being slightly messier than usual, there is nothing out of the ordinary.

Tired of being alone, she heads to the 501st barracks. The boys are ecstatic to see that she’s back and shower her with affection.

As all of that dies down, she pulls Rex aside.

“Rex, where are Anakin and Obi-Wan?”

He looks askance at her.

“Has… no one told you?”

“No! Everyone’s been treating me like I’m made of glass which, yeah, I get it, but it’s annoying! I’d feel much better if they’d actually tell me what’s going on.”

Rex sighs, turning to fully face her.

“Ahsoka, there’s no easy way to say this, but…”

“But what?”

“General Kenobi’s dead.”

Ahsoka’s stomach seems to fall through floor and down to the undercity of Coruscant as one of her worst fears is confirmed.

It takes her longer than she’d like to admit to collect herself enough to speak.

“H-how?” She chokes out.

“A sniper. Right here on Coruscant.”

Of all the ways Obi-Wan could’ve died, of all the places, it was on the one planet that is supposed to be untouched by the violence of war.

She takes a moment to process it all. Rex rests a hand on her shoulder, a silent yet significant show of support.

“And… and where’s Anakin?”

Rex’s face twists into a somewhat pained expression.

“After General Kenobi’s death, Skywalker was… off. He didn’t talk or eat or… do much of anything, really. But after the funeral, it’s like a switch was flipped back on. He was obsessed with finding the man who killed Obi-Wan—Rako Hardeen, I think his name was. And then one day he just… disappeared.”

“So what, he just… went rogue?”

“I mean, I guess. The boys and I wanted to set up search parties to find him, but we weren’t allowed to.”

Obi-Wan is dead.

Anakin is Force-knows-where.

If only she had been there. Maybe she could’ve talked Anakin down, anchored him. Maybe then he never would’ve left. She can only imagine his turmoil, having lost both his Padawan and his Master, feeling helpless and alone.

But sitting here having lost both her Master and her Grandmaster, Ahsoka feels helpless and alone, too.

%#%#%

Though the Council has elected to refrain from Knighting Ahsoka quite yet, her status as a Senior Padawan means that they’ve allowed her to lead small missions and the like.

Master Plo currently acts as her interim Master, filling in the remaining gaps. She enjoys Master Plo, and is glad he is the one who took over her training, but there’s a hole where Anakin should be, a hole that should be filled with banter and affectionate smirks.

She’s on a mission with Torrent Company. It’s a recon mission, simple and easy (but nonetheless prone to wild but necessary improvisations).

She’s scouting ahead, finding a path through the thick forest that is both fast and discreet, when she sees him.

It’s… it’s Anakin.

With his pale complexion, she nearly mistakes him for nothing more than a hallucination, a specter conjured up by her mind.

But the feeling in the Force, the signature that is shielded enough for anyone but those bonded to him to miss, is what gives it away.

Force, he looks terrible.

His face is gaunt and his hair is slightly longer than it was the last time she saw him, and definitely messier. The bags under his eyes are far more prominent, too.

But it’s Anakin, and that’s all that matters to her.

He’s too shielded for her to communicate via their bond, so she shout-whispers, “Master!”

He turns sharply at the sound, and his eyes widen.

“Ahsoka?” He stares at her as if he is seeing a ghost. Slowly he approaches her, expression disbelieving.

Once he’s close enough, he reaches out with his left hand—his flesh hand. Upon making contact with her shoulder, he gasps, pulling her into his arms.

“Oh, Ahsoka, Snips, I thought you were—I’m so happy you’re ok, oh Force.”

She relishes the hug, the affection that she’s missed so dearly.

“I’m happy to see you too, Skyguy.” She pulls away, meeting his eyes. There’s… something off, in his gaze. Something she can’t quite put her finger on. “What happened? Where have you been?”

Anakin still at her questions, abruptly stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” he replies quickly—too quickly. “What matters as that you’re here, and you’re ok, and—”

“Don’t dodge the question, Anakin. No one’s told me anything since I... got back. I’ve basically been in the dark for an entire month. Rex and the 501st have been worried, and the Council refuses to tell me anything.”

His face turns to stone as he stiffens.

“Ahsoka, the Council lied. They lied. They let us believe this… this farce until it was too late.”

There’s a wild, slightly unhinged look in his eyes that puts her on edge, and she has to restrain her hands from gravitating towards her lightsabers.

“Anakin, what do you mean?”

“Obi-Wan wasn’t dead. It was a lie!” His hands clench and unclench, again and again, a manifestation of the frenzied energy that radiates off of him.

The feeling of dread brewing in her stomach only grows stronger, forcing its way up her throat until there’s no room for words.

“They set the whole thing up, and let all of us believe it! And now—” He covers his mouth as he chokes on a sob, “and now he’s really gone.”

Ahsoka’s heart is pounding in her chest, louder and louder, the sound like a chrono, or the timer on a bomb.

“They disguised him, Ahsoka. They made him look like Rako Hardeen, and he went undercover. And do you know what happened?”

No, she thinks, and I don’t really want to know.

“I hunted ‘Rako Hardeen’ down. I wanted him to pay for what he had done. And guess what?” Anakin laughs, the sound hysterical and broken. “I did! I made him pay. But-but it wasn’t him. It was Obi-Wan.

“So Rako Hardeen wasn’t really the murderer, was he? It was—it was me! Force-fucking-damnit, I killed my own Master oh Force—”

Ahsoka is frozen. She is perfectly still, barely even breathing, able to do nothing as she helplessly watches her Master confess his ultimate sin and descend into madness.

For a brief second, she almost wishes she was still on Wasskah, not here, in this living nightmare.

Anakin continues, a deranged, incredulous smile on his face, even as tears drip down his cheeks and to the ground below. “Hardeen was never the villain. He was just a tool, and he fulfilled his purpose. I’m the villain, Ahsoka.

“Do you know what happens to the villain? They live the rest of their pathetic life trying to be the hero again. And they fail.”

There’s a battle going on in her chest, one that spreads all over. She isn’t here. She’s dreaming, she’s in her sleep couch at the Temple and will wake up in the morning and walk into the common area and see Anakin tinkering with some scrap metal as Obi-Wan makes them all breakfast, and they’ll sit down at the table and eat together, sharing food and happiness and warmth.

But such pleasures have been stolen away, are nothing but a shattered fantasies that litter the ground and crunch under her feet and leave her soles bloody.

“Anakin—” She chokes out. “You’re not—just come back, ok? We can fix this. Just—please.” She reaches out her hand, palm up.

Anakin looks at it, a flash of hope appearing and dissipating just as quickly.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” he says, eyes golden and tearful. “You need—you have to stay with the Jedi, where it’s safe, ok?”

She doesn’t nod, doesn’t indicate her agreement in any way, but Anakin seems to take her silence as a yes.

“I’ll—I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

With a final look at his Padawan, Anakin is gone.

Ahsoka knows he isn’t coming back.

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nanagoswife · 3 years

Text

Noticing You, Noticing Me

Chapter Eight

Summary: More soft moments between reader and Obi-Wan as they enjoy being back together

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: Not smut, but there is some intimacy? Not really though? Idk😅

- - -

Apparently, everyone knew about Obi-Wan’s arrival except for you. Anakin and Padmé were just the ones who participated.

As you walked through the halls, basically clinging to his arm, he laid his free hand on top of one of yours as he told you.

“I had also been talking with Anakin these last months, albeit, not as often as I was with you.” He paused to smile at you, gently squeezing your hand. “When I found out of my plans to come here, I wanted to find a way to surprise you. Then, Anakin came to mind.”

“Let me guess. You asked Anakin, then Anakin asked Padmé, and then Anakin told you what she had said.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “Sometimes I forget how well you know your brother.”

A small sense of pride filled you with that.

“But yes, that’s what happened. Of course I had first written to your parents about a few things. They were more than happy to hear that I could make my way over after so long. I think it was something about how their daughter was quite taken with me.”

He looked down at you with that cheeky smile once again. You shook your head and giggled as you lightly pushed him, only sending him slightly off balance.

His laugh filled the halls as he regained his steady pace.

“I do believe that she is quite taken with the prince of Coruscant. The princess couldn’t be happier.”

Obi-Wan’s crystal blue eyes stared into yours while he smiled. Slowly, he brought the two of you to a stop in front of one of the windows. The light of the sun reflected perfectly in his eyes.

When he turned to face you, both of your hands ended up in his one. Although you loved the feeling, you took one hand away to bring it to his cheek. A small giggle bubbled its way out of you at the feel of his beard as he leaned into your touch. The well trimmed hairs were scratchy but in the most delightful way.

Your eyes couldn’t leave his even if you wanted to. The sight of him like this held all of your attention as you slowly dragged your hand down to rest on his chest.

The fact that both of you were leaning in went hardly noticed. It felt so natural that you paid no mind to it. It was only as you were that few centimeters away from the other’s lips that you realized, but you didn’t pull away. No, this was something the two of you had come so close to once before, yet it now had a different meaning. This was more deserved than before.

You were so close until footsteps could be heard from the other end of the hall. Obi-Wan huffed out a sigh of annoyance but didn’t make any movement to pull away from your proximity.

“We really need to find a more private place,” he whispered, causing you to chuckle,

“If I remember correctly, not even that worked, Obi.”

All he did was groan and roll his eyes as his shoulders slumped. “You unfortunately make a good point, my dear.”

You chuckled before the person arrived in your area. When you turned to greet them, it was Varlo. Maybe it was your eyes just playing tricks on you, but he seemed absolutely miserable. More than he had been in the last two months, anyways. Apparently not having the popularity that he used to have was weighing on him more than you had thought.

“Good afternoon, Varlo,” Obi-Wan greeted with a bow from just behind you. As he did, you saw that a small piece of his hair fell out of place. He did nothing to put it back, though, as he stood up.

“Prince Kenobi,” he greeted briskly with a stiff bow.

He seemed rigid in his greeting. Had something gone wrong in a dispute? You weren’t super into the politics of your kingdom as he was, so you didn’t know what possibly could make him like this.

Varlo’s jaw seemed tense, like he was clenching it.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. You could feel Obi-Wan shift uncomfortably behind you. Whatever was going on with Varlo was unsettling him just like it was for you.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I apologize. Just something occupying my mind. Anyways, I really came here to find you to tell you that our parents are putting together a small feast in honour of your arrival, Prince Kenobi.”

“Please, call me Obi-Wan. And thank you. I’ll be sure to thank them later although it’s highly unnecessary.”

“Oh but it is,” you cut in, flashing him a smile.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Alright, alright. If you say so.”

“I’ll leave you two be. But, Y/N, I should mention that mom is putting this together. So, be prepared,” Varlo said with a playful smile.

You knew exactly what he meant. Whenever your mother would go into planning mode, she always made it the best. If it weren’t for the fact that Obi-Wan had told them before arriving, you would’ve assumed they only had a day's notice. In that case, it would be more toned down. Knowing that she had known well in advance, well, it would be extravagant.

Both you and Obi-Wan said your goodbyes to your brother before he turned away.

“Well, what shall we do until dinner?” Obi-Wan asked when your brother was far enough down the hall. Before you answered, you brushed those few strands of hair back into place.

“Have you unpacked yet?” You turned to look at him, seeing him shake his head no. “Why don’t we do that, then.”

His smile grew even more before offering you his elbow. “Sounds like a plan.”

At first, Obi-Wan felt a slight bit awkward. The last time he had a girl in his room, that wasn’t his mother, was Satine. Nothing had happened between them other than simple conversations.

With you, he was a little nervous. He wanted a life with you. Unlike with Satine, he felt like he could see himself with you for the rest of his life. Every part of him was drawn to you in a way that he had never felt in his life.

As the time went on though with you helping him where you could, it felt just as natural as everything else. Obi-Wan could feel himself relax more and more as the time passed.

By the time he had finished, you were sitting at the foot of the bed. Despite his insistence, you refused to make yourself more comfortable further up the bed. Instead you stayed where you were, intently listening to his ramblings. Some were stories from your time apart, others were just simply him muttering his thoughts.

Nothing changed though. You sat and listened, occasionally chiming in at certain details.

Once Obi-Wan was done, he sat beside you. It didn’t take long to find your hand so that he could intertwine his fingers with yours.

“So,” he started, “did that take all the time we had or is there still time?”

You giggled as you leaned against his shoulder. “I’m sure we have some time. Besides, who says we can’t be fashionably late?”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in curiosity. “Is there something your brilliant mind is working up?”

He watched as your cheeks flushed as you smiled coyly.

“Not really. But I did have an idea for after dinner.”

“And what might that be?”

You looked up at him, your cheeks burning an even darker shade than before. You opened your mouth to talk, but closed it before looking away again. It confused him.

“Darling?”

“Never mind,” you said quietly.

“If you think I would say no to whatever your plan is, I’m sure you’re wrong,” he said encouragingly. His free hand came up and turned your face towards him with his index. “What is it?”

When you stumbled over your words, he let his fingers trail along your jawline before cupping your cheek. It was a gesture to comfort you in your doubt, and it seemed to work. He could feel as the tension in your shoulders eased. Even the grip you had on his hand relaxed.

“I- I was thinking maybe… we could come back here after. Together,” you said. Quickly, you continue before he could react, “Not to do anything like, you know. Just to… sleep. And I was wondering if we could read that poetry book that we never finished that night because it was so beautiful and-”

Obi-Wan gently hushed you with a soft call of your name before you’d go into an endless ramble. “Yes,” he said in a breath. “Yes to all of it. Whatever you wish.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He felt you relax further against him. Almost on instinct, he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Now, shall we head down to the feast your mother has put together?”

Chuckling, you lightly pushed off of Obi-Wan to sit up. “Are you sure you’re ready? She never goes halfway with these sorts of things.”

“Always.”

“Ok, so I may have underestimated what Queen Breha had planned,” Obi-Wan said with a sheepish chuckle.

What your mother had planned had even surprised you. All of the servants had been dressed in their best. The dining table was set to feed three times the amount of your group. The seven of you hardly made a dent in it all.

When it came to decorations, you would’ve thought that you would’ve been serving every king and queen there was. Yes, you were a part of a royal family, but you had never dined in such a fancy setup. You had thought your normal setup was over the top, but you were dead wrong.

Even Obi-Wan had seemed overwhelmed by it all. The enthusiastic call from your brother had distracted both you and Obi-Wan from your surroundings.

Apparently, despite actually arriving in time, the two of you were the last to arrive. Everyone else greeted you enthusiastically when you sat down after Obi-Wan pulled out your chair.

Varlo didn’t though. Like he was earlier, he had seemed preoccupied. That kept up during the whole meal. You didn’t pay much mind to it as your parents, Anakin, and Padmé all started a conversation lasting the whole meal.

Once you were all stuffed to the brim, Varlo had left. He said that he had something to attend to, yet he wouldn’t say what.

For the rest of you, the conversations continued as the servants all cleared the table without incident. Even if there were, it wouldn’t be a huge deal. Most of them you knew quite well, and so did your mother. They were all good people who strove to do their best in their role. You always smiled whenever you heard how happy they really were.

“Even I underestimated what she would do,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently as you walked down the hall to the sitting room that contained the poetry book.

Normally, your arm would be linked with his, but you didn’t feel like being that formal. You guessed he felt that same as he reciprocated the action without any protest. If he had said anything about it, you were sure that it would only be about how his thoughts were going down the same path as yours.

When you had gotten to the room you needed, you told Obi-Wan to wait as you quickly ran in to grab the poetry book. After you did, you resumed your hand holding all the way to your room first to change and grab some things.

You had disappeared behind your changing screen as he observed your room. There wasn’t much in your room. A few books on the shelf beside your desk, the satchel which held all of his letters that sat on the floor still next to your desk, your bed, and your changing screen.

Everything was going well until you were unable to undo the back of your dress. No matter how hard you tried, each attempt was met by failure.

There was no other choice other than to ask Obi-Wan to help.

Stepping out from behind the screen, you saw him looking out of your window. He had one arm across his chest while his other elbow rested against it as he stroked his beard. It looked as if he was lost in thought only to briefly smile to himself.

“Obi,” you called out. You hated to break his train of thought, but the longer this took, the longer it would be until you could get on with the night’s plan.

He turned towards you, looking slightly confused when you were still in the same lavender dress as before.

“I can’t get it undone, and I… I was wondering if you could help,” you said as you looked at the floor. It felt strange asking this of him. At the same time, it thrilled you. Nervousness took over in the end.

Obi-Wan walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He gently squeezed them in a silent question asking you to look at him. “Only if you want me to.”

You nodded. With a comforting smile, he led you back behind your screen. Turning around for him, his hands worked on the ties at your back. Each lace up your back slowly loosened as he made his way up, letting his fingers graze against your back.

As he made his way up, you couldn’t stop the shiver that went through you as his hand ghosted the bare part of your back. When he was done, he placed his hands on your shoulders, finger slightly under the material of the dress.

The sensation was one you had never felt before as his hands began trailing outwards, bringing the fabric with it. A part of you wanted him to continue, but you knew it was better when he had paused his gentle caresses.

“I’m sorry. I- I’ll let you get changed.”

“It’s alright, Obi,” you said as you turned to face him. “And thank you.”

With a shy smile, he went back to the main area of your room. A part of you wished you could’ve continued, but now wasn’t the time for that. Hell, you hadn’t even kissed yet.

Either way, you pushed it aside as you finished getting ready. Your sleep gown was much more comfortable than your dress. You wondered what Obi-Wan would think of the light blue gown that flowed more and was far less constricting.

When you walked out after changing, Obi-Wan’s breath hitched for what felt like the hundredth time today. He knew night gowns were nothing special, but you just looked so… beautiful.

The simpleness of it caught his eye immediately. Yes, you looked amazing in all of your day gowns, but this was just a new level he didn’t know was possible.

He must’ve muttered something about it because your cheeks turned flushed as you took on a demure stance.

Finally gaining some sense, he cleared his throat before speaking, “Shall we continue the evening?”

You nodded, walking over to him before taking his hand to make your way to his room. Although it was no secret that the two of you were together, you had to make sure you weren’t seen. People would most likely assume that something other than what you truly were doing would be happening.

The only people that were told were Anakin and Padmé. They had told you that they would make sure that no one saw either of you. Specifically in the morning. The plan was that Anakin would make sure the hall was clear as Padmé would come get you and escort you to your room. Of everyone, they knew that Obi-Wan wouldn’t take advantage of you. Plus, with your friend knowing of the night you and Obi-Wan had first read this book, she was quick to believe your true plans.

Thankfully, the hall was clear all the way to his room.

Obi-Wan had removed his jacket rather quickly, exposing his white tunic that lay underneath. There was a small area where his chest was slightly exposed, revealing hairs there that matched the colour of his beard.

A small part of you wanted to have the kind of courage that he did and unlace the top of his tunic for him, to feel some of the skin on his chest. That courage wasn’t there. Not a single part of you could muster up the ability to ask, but you didn’t need to. Obi-Wan had caught the way you were looking at him.

Taking a few steps to close the distance between you, he took your hands in his.

“It’s alright,” he said, placing one of your hands on his chest near the ties. “You can if you want. You don’t have to.”

His voice was quiet and soothing. That courage you thought you would never have? It was there now, slowly crawling out as he encouraged you.

Along with his comforting words, you moved your fingers to where the lace laid. With a shakiness, you brought your other hand up to help undo the knot. Before you could start untying it, he placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing gently for comfort.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do this. Stop whenever you like.”

As he took his hand off of the two of yours, the final bit of courage filled you. Slowly, you untied the lace, loosening it until even more of his chest was exposed.

For a moment, you let your fingers graze over the exposed skin and hair. The golden curls on his chest made you smile as you briefly rubbed his chest.

This time, you gained even more confidence as you then let your hands glide down to his torso. Something in you wanted to see more, to feel more, but you weren’t sure if it was the best decision.

When your hands reached his waist, you stopped. Looking back into his eyes, nothing but warmth and sureness radiated from them.

“Go ahead. Like I said earlier, anything for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, gaining even more reassurance from Obi-Wan as you looked in his eyes. So, you let your hands clench the material of his shirt, pulling it up until he lifted his arms, letting the shirt fall to the ground.

You let your eyes explore the surface of his skin, noting every scar until you reached out to trace them all. He told you how many were from training, others from a battle years ago when a random group who wanted to dethrone his father attacked.

He worked hard to keep his breathing controlled as your hands explored the surface of his skin. Despite this, Obi-Wan knew that if you felt over his heart that you would be able to feel it racing.

As you traced over his scars, he couldn’t help but let his eyes fall closed. The thoughts that began to run through his mind were becoming intrusive. He didn’t want to rush into anything with you, though. What he didn’t want to do was scare you off and that meant having to keep this all under control.

Plus, he didn’t want to wreck your reputation. Something like this could ruin you, and that’s not what he wanted. You were doing so much good for your people. If they thought any less of you than they do now, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself.

Instead, he closed his eyes so that he could quell the feeling of desire he felt for you. It was working too, until you reached his shoulders, trailing towards his collar bone.

Nothing could keep his breathing from picking up. The closer you came to his collarbone, the more he felt his want for you. But he wouldn’t let it happen. Not unless you wanted to, and you already had said that you wanted this to be purely just an innocent night. Just reading and sleeping.

So, he shifted slightly, taking a sharp intake of breath as your hand traced his collarbone.

This exploration lasted a few minutes as you looked over his freckles that were scattered across his shoulders. Obi-Wan took a deep breath as you traced his collar bone, shifting slightly.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, pausing your exploration. “Did I go too far?”

“What? No, of course not,” he said quickly to reassure you. “No, it’s just… maybe we should read now.”

Nodding, you went over to the bed. Obi-Wan joined you not long after.

After getting settled under the sheets, the two of you went into a familiar position like the night in front of the fireplace. Only this time, you didn’t stay awake long, falling asleep against Obi-Wan’s bare chest.

Everything, his warmth, the sound of his voice, the comfort of the bed, it all made you drowsy. Obi-Wan noticed and encouraged you, “Go to sleep, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

- - -

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