#now i miss jedi fallen order even more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randomfandomblabdom · 9 months

Text

Fallen Order & Survivor Musical Themes

Has anyone done this yet? Here is a comprehensive list of all of the character themes/motifs found in the Jedi: Fallen Order and Survivor video games for anyone interested. I tried to give several examples of each and also included some of my own thoughts. You can listen to many or as few links as you want. If I missed anything please feel free to add on or let me know.

FALLEN ORDER CAL KESTIS - I'm giving Cal two separate sections because I'm pretty positive he now has two separate themes and in attempts to make it less confusing, I've decided to very creatively refer to them as Fallen Order Cal and Survivor Cal. I'm a genius, I know. Fallen Order Cal is consistently heard all over both games. It's his primary theme. It feels young and heroic and wide-eyed... Remember feeling like nothing could touch you when you were young? That's the sort of feeling I get from Fallen Order Cal. It's not happy per se but it's hope and optimism sprinkled with naive youthfulness and an undertone of solemnity. He's been through some serious shit but he's a kid, he's young. The grief and trauma are there for sure but they haven't encompassed him completely. There's still some hope behind those eyes, there's a healing journey to go on, and there's a chance to take on this Empire. It's only until Survivor that the theme starts feeling a little more grounded just like the transition from childhood to adulthood. Fallen Order Cal in Survivor feels a bit less magical, that youthful spirit has diminished, that hope has dwindled.

CAL KESTIS

THE PATH OF THE THREE SAGES

PEACEKEEPERS

A FRONTIER WELCOME

ABOVE THE CLOUDS

A STEP TOO FAR

SURVIVOR CAL KESTIS - So, I originally thought this was a minor key variation of a section of Cal's theme but I've since realized that it technically is a completely separate theme. That being said, thanks to @foxykatie425 in this insanely detailed reply to my frustrations regarding this theme that put what I was hearing into musical terms way out of my element in terms of explaining, I've realized that I may have been somewhat correct. I don't know if the two themes are actually connected, that would be a question for the composers but at the very least, it's definitely a secondary darker theme for Cal as it only ever plays in reference to him and I'd wager a guess that it's the main theme of Survivor as a whole. Compared to Fallen Order Cal, Survivor Cal feels drained, heavy, tired, burdened, and above all else, dark and foreboding. There is a genuine weight to this theme that just feels sinister. There is a hint of Fallen Order Cal there but as that post says, it almost feels like it's on the verge of falling apart. He's not the same man he was five years ago and the fact that this theme is the first thing you hear music-wise in the game and accompanies your very first view of him is an incredible way of subconsciously telling that to your audience right off the bat.

DARK TIMES

ABOVE THE CLOUDS - note: this theme and Fallen Order Cal switch back and forth constantly in this track and I find that so interesting.

NOVA GARON

NIGHTSISTER MERRIN - Merrin's theme is interesting to me because it doesn't sound anything like the type of music you might use to accompany a witch or magic user. It's not necessarily fantastical or whimsical or anything of the sort. In fact, it sounds more like something you might use for a superhero. It's a little bit timid or unsure or even afraid in Fallen Order but god damn has it built in confidence and strength once Survivor rolls around. The only time you hear that sort of timidness to it again is during the first kiss on Jedha which has such interesting implications for her being a nervous wreck in that moment. I also adore how it sounds as an action cue which you hear several times throughout Survivor. It sounds like it comes straight from the best MCU movies and yes, I do mean that as a compliment.

TO DATHOMIR

PEACEKEEPERS

MERRIN

THE WILL OF THE FORCE

TRIDENT

FLIGHT

CAL & MERRIN'S LOVE THEME - Look, I genuinely did not think they would actually go through with making Cal and Merrin canon, I honestly thought they'd chicken-shit out and I was certainly not expecting them to get any sort of love theme if they did but here we are... and we somehow got both. Cal and Merrin are canon and they got a love theme. Holy fucking shit. It just has all that warmth and sweetness of a friend-to-lovers romance too.

FIELDS OF DUSK - ORCHESTRAL VERSION

CAMPFIRE

A STEP TOO FAR

THE ABYSS

BD-1 - I said in my post regarding my thoughts on the Survivor score that these two video game scores are quite possibly the closest we've ever gotten to a John Williams sound from a composer(s) who is in fact, not John Williams. Not that every piece of Star Wars music has to sound like the big man himself, part of the reason The Mandalorian theme was so positively received was that it was such a different sound for Star Wars but I stand by what I said: this is the closest a composer has gotten to a John Williams sound and they have clearly done their research. Some people might not know this but R2 and 3PO have a very small motif heard throughout the films. It's not played very often and is sometimes not very noticeable but it's there and BD-1's motif is not only similar but definitely sounds like it exists within the same universe. I also love that droids are so often musically presented as very childlike, innocent, and mischievous. BD in particular has a very playful energy.

BD-1 AND THE BOGLINGS

MERRIN

THE WILL OF THE FORCE

TRILLA SUNDURI/SECOND SISTER - Trilla's theme legitimately activates my fight or flight response and when I say that, I mean mostly my flight response cause you won't find me messing with this shit. It's very much in lieu of the famous Psycho violins which were written to heighten your senses by emulating screams. I wish we got more of it cause it's intimidating as fuck and a piece of dark side art.

FIGHT AND FLIGHT

TRILLA

THE WILL OF THE FORCE

CERE JUNDA - Don't hate me but I haven't quite fallen in love with Cere's theme yet. That's not to say it's bad by any means, it's absolutely beautiful. It has such a deep melancholy vibe to it, like an inescapable sadness. It almost has a feeling of failure to me weirdly enough.

THE PATH OF THE THREE SAGES

DESERT RUINS

SIEGE

THE VISITOR

ENO CORDOVA - I've mentioned this before but again, for people who might not know: the music that is widely considered to be the main theme of Fallen Order - so much so it was primarily used during the recap at the beginning of Survivor - is Cordova's theme. It's such an interesting artistic choice because I think many people would've made it either Cal's theme or given the entire game its own theme in general. I listen to this one a lot honestly. It's so calming and safe feeling.

THE PATH OF THE THREE SAGES

FAILURE IS NOT THE END

ENO CORDOVA'S THEME

THE NARKIS ANCHORITES

BODE AKUNA - Yes, Bode does have a theme and you know what? It slaps. I really like it. It's very adventurous and feels quite friendly which is ironic as hell. It does get some heart-wrenching renditions nearer to the end of the game. It's the music that swells when he force-pushes Cal and everyone collectively shits themselves. Oh, it also has some dark renditions as well.

ABOVE THE CLOUDS

A STEP TOO FAR

BROTHERS

THROUGH DARKNESS

RAYVIS - As far as I can tell, Rayvis does not have a set theme but he is usually accompanied by high-playing strings and his boss fight music is the best example of that. I actually don't think a lot of Rayvis moments ended up on the score soundtrack which... how dare they.

WARRIORS CODE

DAGAN GERA - I thought Dagan didn't have a theme for the longest time but it turns out he actually does have a tiny motif that I do wish had been more thoroughly realized in the score because it's so menacing and I absolutely love it. It's most prominently heard during his last confrontation with Cal. He is also usually accompanied by low-playing horns. Not always but usually.

RELEASE ME

TO THE RESCUE

GRAND OCULUS

KATA AKUNA - I'm going to rant about this one for a second, okay? I have spent the last few weeks wondering what the hell the melody that plays throughout the track Through Darkness is. I was sitting here plucking out melodies on a piano app (cause I don't own a keyboard) and was like, "Okay, it's not Cal's theme, it's not Bode's theme, it's not Merrin's theme... what the hell is that series of notes??" Yes, I'm aware that not every note has to mean something but these just felt like they did. It's played at such an emotional point in the game and for two scores that already work heavily around themes and motifs and musical ideas, it didn't make sense to me that this little series of notes would mean nothing, especially at such a poignant moment. Funnily enough, it only just occurred to me while making this post that it's fucking Kata's theme. At least I think it is. Well, motif. It's not a fully developed theme but it definitely has the makings of one. That's not even me making a wild guess either, these notes appear in other places in the story that feature Kata.

NOVA GARON

THE ABYSS

THROUGH DARKNESS

GHOST STAR - I'm adding this for fun because I think it's gorgeous and I love it but it leads me to ask: why has there been no official release of Ghost Star? With or without vocals? This is a genuine question. It does not appear on the Cantina album nor is there even a snippet of its melody on the score album. It makes me wonder if the song was maybe added later into production? Trust me, I love the orchestral cover that has been going around and people are obviously seeking it out cause the track has gained thousands of streams in the months since the game was released. It was at 10k the last time I looked on Spotify and it's currently at 24k as of writing this. I'm just genuinely surprised EA/Respawn or hell, even Lucasfilm hasn't capitalized off that.

GHOST STAR

GHOST STAR W/ VOCALS

Thank you most sincerely if you made it all the way here :)

I liked this. I should do this for more scores lol.

196 notes · View notes

inkformyblood · 6 months

Text

stay with me (Sith Obi-Wan x Alpha-17)

Day 2 "Seduction" for @sithobiwanevent Canon Era, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining (pre-fic conversation included at the end <3)

Alpha-17 pauses when Obi-Wan touches him. He’s paused right now, caught in a moment between working his fingers over the final catch of his vambrace and the act of throwing it over the railing. Like this, he’s beautiful, classically so, the kind of statue that critics would flock to and run their greedy fingers over the hunch of his shoulders and marvel over the harsh lines carved across his face as his mouth twists in frustration. He’s always beautiful, but Obi-Wan lets himself appreciate it more in moments like these, paused moments, the height of a breath and the waver of a step.

He’s not very good at being a Sith.

“Are you sure?”

He’s asked it before, worked his reasoning into the tread of a dingy cantina sideroom and twisted it around bloodless fingers in the rattle of a transport ship to try and make Alpha-17 understand. His tongue is heavy, tin plated with silver, and Obi-Wan swallows against the tang of it. “You’ve given up so much already. Please.”

Alpha-17 tips his head to one side, his gaze sliding from the tips of Obi-Wan’s fingers resting at the crook of his elbow to his face. His brow is still pinched in concentration even after Obi-Wan had broken it so thoroughly, his emotions clinging to his features until they’re overwritten by something new and Obi-Wan can never quite tell what Alpha-17 is thinking. Like here, now. It’s Alpha-17’s armour that he has scattered over the galaxy like waypoints, his helmet that he left in Obi-Wan’s room when they had left, Alpha-17 resolutely on his heels despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts. They aren’t General and Captain here but Obi-Wan can still feel the weight of it around his neck, dragging him downwards, drawing him forwards. He can’t stop running.

It would be the end of them both.

“Don’t worry, sir.” Alpha-17 peels the vambrace from his wrist, his arm shifting slightly beneath Obi-Wan’s touch and, if he wants to delude himself further, deliberately remaining in contact with him.

Alpha-17 holds the vambrace up, inspecting it carefully. The light catches the planes of his face, a variation of features present in every corner of the galaxy from the curve of his mouth to the dark sheen of his eyes, and Obi-Wan remembers when he had Fallen. It had thought it would hurt, a betrayal of everything he had tried so hard to emulate and live by, a Code engraved onto his tongue and his bones and every thought in his head, but it had been easy.

Living with himself after is proving to be harder.

“You can just buy me a new set, sir.” Alpha-17 opens his hand and the vambrace falls. He doesn’t watch it drop, turning his gaze back to Obi-Wan with all the gravity of a collapsing star demanding to be observed and worshipped. He’s grinning, lopsided due to the line of scarring over one cheek, exposing the sharp line of his canines.

“I don’t have any money.”

“You're Sith now, sir.” Alpha-17 steps back from the railing, circling Obi-Wan to rest at his side. Obi-Wan’s hand is still resting on Alpha-17’s arm, tucked into the crook of his elbow. Something burns inside his chest, a slow creep of smoke that curls up his throat and spits embers into his cheeks. He wants.

“I am?” Obi-Wan tries for a statement and misses, his voice creeping upwards at the end. He swallows, fixing his gaze on the winding path that dips back into the shadows of the city, breathing in the faint smoky scent of a battlefield that never seems to leave Alpha-17.

“We can find some.”

We. Together still. What a strange pair they made, a disgraced Jedi General Fallen from grace and from the only life he had ever known and a clone captain defector because he had chosen to disobey orders and had gotten a taste for it.

Obi-Wan sighs, letting his eyes drift closed as they move into the shadows, trying to cling to the last specks of sunlight in the colours that twist across the back of his eyelids. It is like trying to read a language that he knows but it isn’t the same, his emotions simmering just beneath the surface and his rage has never been closer. It’s heavier now, the blunt edge of a hammer resting against his palm, a chain around his throat, and he squeezes Alpha-17’s arm tighter, pressing his nails into his flesh. He needs this to be real.

“Sir?”

“It’s nothing.”

“If you say so, sir.”

Alpha-17’s armour hadn’t cost much. If Obi-Wan still had access to the Republic’s databases — and he very well may with the ranks still in uproar over his actions, a gulf the size of a planet torn open for the watchful gaze of the universe to flood into — then he would be able to scan through the network of files for the exact amount of armour that had been commissioned and the cost. It had always been paraded as being too much, too much, lacking a clear cost to benefit ratio, to pull the funding from the Senate’s grasping hands so they could make do. They had stretched and stretched what funds they had and it wouldn’t be enough, could never make up for the sacrifice of their men, but they could try and keep a few more of them alive. If Obi-Wan could have, he would have gotten them beskar.

He could get Alpha-17 beskar.

Glancing sideways, Obi-Wan takes in Alpha-17’s profile again. They’re close enough in height, Obi-Wan only slightly taller, but Alpha-17 carries himself like a much taller man, broad even without his armour. His steps are steady despite the uneven slant of the street as they wind their way through the exposed underbelly of this city.

“What planet is this?”

Alpha-17’s gaze shifts as he thinks, an unconscious habit exposed without the embrace of his helmet. There are a few that Obi-Wan has already noticed that are common to most of the clones when they had gone without their helmets; the shift of their mouth to activate an internal comlink before they spoke first, the way they would settle into a straight-backed stance like an old building relaxing into its foundations, but the pausing when Obi-Wan touches him is entirely Alpha-17’s. It is still there, a barely-noticeable twitch halting the sway of his body whenever Obi-Wan’s grip shifts, drawing their point of contact back into stark relief.

“Not sure, sir. Somewhere in the mid-rim if I have to guess.”

Obi-Wan nods. Not somewhere where beskar would be easy to obtain, by any school of thought. Armour of any kind would be beneficial for them both, but… He wants this gift to be meaningful. In some traditions, Mandalorian offshoots especially, what he is considering would be a courting gift. He couldn’t say if Alpha-17 knew that is what he is asking for, the double-meaning laced between his words that he offers as casually as he does his arm, his support, his refusal to leave even when Obi-Wan had begged him to. Prodding his tongue against his lower lip, Obi-Wan tastes iron, a memory of the blood splashed across his face. He will tear the stars out of the sky before he loses another person.

“We should head towards Mandalore. I have some things I need to pick up.”

Alpha-17 grins. “Yessir.”

⁂

“You can’t come with me, Alpha-17. You have to know this.”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“And yet, I notice you’re continuing to pack.”

“Very observant of you, sir.”

“Alpha-17, please. I can’t keep you safe if you’re with me.”

“I can manage that well enough for us both, General.”

“I’m not your General, Alpha-17. Not anymore.”

“I know, sir. As you’ve just pointed out, you’re a Sith. You’re not a Jedi and so you aren’t in charge of me anymore. That means I don’t have to listen to you anymore. Now, shall we go?”

#sith obiwan #obi wan kenobi #star wars #alpha 17 #obi wan x alpha 17 #my writing #fanfic

45 notes · View notes

ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Text

Come Back To Me

Commander Fox/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 30 of 31

Words: 1,663

Summary: On the run after Order 66, you can’t help but miss the friendship of the men previously under your command. What you don’t expect is to find one of them again, who isn’t trying to kill you this time.

Note: i was on wookiepedia just looking at some of the clones’ fates and immediately decided that fox deserves better than what he got, so here’s a sort of fix-it :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

People never looked your way as you walked down the street anymore, and that was exactly the way you liked it. As inhabitants of the galaxy began to realize that the Empire was not all the good things it claimed to be, they became less and less open and friendly, which worked in your favor. You couldn’t help but miss the home that was destroyed all that time ago, and the family that was slain by those you once held dear.

As far as you were aware, there were no other Jedi left, and even if you were wrong about that, there was no way for you to contact them. Clone troopers were still the primary soldiers of the empire, and even though you were not one of the more well known generals on the Holonet, if you happened to come across one of the men who had previously been under your command, you didn’t know if you could survive fighting them twice, both physically and emotionally.

You were a long way from Coruscant, but you still occasionally saw troopers in the signature red-painted armor of the Guard, so it wasn’t a long shot that you would eventually see someone who recognized you, all you had to do was just hope that you were quick enough to get away again.

Alarm bells went off in your brain one day when you were walking through the crowded city, returning from your latest job. Mercenary work was a far cry from the Jedi Code you used to follow so diligently, but seeing as the galaxy was now actively hostile to anyone who displayed even a shred of kindness, you decided that your survival was more important. You could only hope that one day you would be able to return to the way you lived before the war, even if it was just settling down somewhere and not having to constantly look over your shoulder.

You almost missed the twinges of gray in his hair, and it disappeared from your view just as quickly as you noticed it, but you would recognize him anywhere. Immediately, you were on high alert. Why was he here? Was he following you, or was this simply an unfortunate coincidence?

But you didn’t see him again for a few days, so you allowed yourself to indulge in the dream that what you saw was simply a hallucination, brought on by some combination of your Force sensitivity and resigned melancholy. You missed all the troopers you used to command, but Fox was the one you thought of the most. The two of you had worked exceptionally well together, and you couldn’t help the way you felt something more than friendship for the stoic commander, though you never told anyone, barely even admitting it to yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when you finally got an answer to your question. You were walking through a seedy city, tracking a bounty for an employer who you didn’t care to know the identity of. It was scary how quickly you had fallen from the kind and gentle person you used to be, and even if that part of you was still alive, you had her locked away in the depths of your soul, and the hope that she could ever resurface was nothing but a far-flung dream as the Empire continued to tighten its grip on the galaxy.

Your lightsaber was currently strapped to your hip, the long and slightly baggy tunic you wore obscuring it from any wandering eyes. It was unfortunate that you had to adapt to blaster combat on your jobs now, due to the lack of subtlety that your previous weapon offered, but you couldn’t just let go of it that easily, not when it was all you had left of your previous life and identity.

This target was wily and strategic, but you were determined not to let him slip through your fingers. When he turned into an abandoned alley, you smiled to yourself, thinking this would all be over soon.

But you were dead wrong about that, because when you pulled your blaster out, you found one trained on you as well. “Why are you following me?” he asked, venom is his voice as he stared you down.

“Take a kriffing guess.” You were not in the mood for conversation, tired and hungry after a long day of tracking him.

“You won’t take me alive.”

You shrugged, a snort falling from your mouth. “So? I’ll take you in cold, I still get paid either way.”

Before the man could respond, the sound of a blaster firing cut through the air, and your target slumped down onto the ground, silent and unmoving. You could feel the blaster bolt whiz through the air within the Force, and once you realized that it wasn’t you who had pulled the trigger, you turned around with an irate look on your face. “If you think I’m going to let you get paid for this, you’re dead wro-” You started out annoyed, but you trailed off when you realized who it was that was looking back at you.

Immediately, you drew your lightsaber. This was the nightmare that had haunted you for the past few weeks, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to go up against him with just a blaster. Fox said your name softly as he lowered his blaster, and it was your real name, not the one you made up to keep yourself safe in this hostile galaxy. Your hands started to shake as you backed away from him, and the blond man in blue armor beside him (clearly another clone) just stood there.

“Get away from me,” you said, the tremor in your voice giving away the fear you felt. Suddenly, you were back on Coruscant, staring down half of your command squad as they all proclaimed that you had committed treason against the Republic. A well-timed explosion had been the stroke of luck that allowed you to survive the first time, but you knew that you probably wouldn’t be as lucky in this instance.

“Please listen to me!” Fox’s voice was so familiar, and that made this whole situation so much more painful. He was trying to gain your trust to kill you properly this time, you knew it, and you were not going to let that happen. You had survived too long to be taken out now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry I don’t believe you,” you responded, not lowering your lightsaber.

“It was these chips they put in our heads, they made us turn against the Jedi,” he continued. “But I had mine removed.”

Oh, you so desperately wanted to believe him. “Then why are you following me?” you asked. “Do you really think I’d be willing to risk my life again?”

“I wasn’t following you, I promise,” he said. “Rex and I are fugitives right now, just like you.”

“How can I be absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth?” Now you were really fighting back the tears that threatened to slip from your eyes. “How can I know that you’re not doing this just to kill me?”

The other clone, Rex, stepped forward, holding up his hands to show that he was unarmed. You vaguely recognized the blue paint on his armor that signified him as being part of Anakin Skywalker’s battalion, as he turned his head so that you could see the side of it. There was a small scar sitting at his hairline, still red and healing. “This is where the chips were. I had mine removed first, and I was able to remove Fox’s once the dust of the Republic started to settle.”

“How did you manage that?” you asked, still wary.

“He knocked me out with a crowbar,” Fox responded, and you could see the ghost of a smile on his face as you looked at him, still standing farther away from you.

“I didn’t exactly have many other options!”

You took a deep breath as you tried to make sense of it all, and you could vaguely make out the area of Fox’s hair that was shaved shorter than the rest and the end of a scar on his face. “Why did you come here?” you asked softly.

“We’re working with a group of rebels against the Empire now,” the blond clone said. “Spotting you here was a complete coincidence, and Fox wanted to make sure you were okay.”

For the first time since you realized who they were, you retracted your lightsaber, but kept it tight in your grip. You looked back at Fox, who was had a hopeful look on his face as he watched you. “I’m sorry for everything I did while that chip was in control,” he said. “Could you ever forgive me?”

There was a piece of you that was still screaming that this was a trap, but you truly didn’t believe that voice in your head anymore. Nodding, you stepped closer to Fox, the two of you face to face for the first time in Force knows how long. “Of course I can,” you said softly.

Rex stepped closer to the two of you. “How would you feel about joining a group of fellow fugitives?” he asked.

You pretended to think for a moment, but in reality you had already made up your mind. “Just let me cash in my kill and then I’m in.”

Fox smiled, a look that you hadn’t ever seen cross his face before, but one that you decided he should wear more often, because it lifted some of the stress and worry from his face. “Don’t you mean my kill?”

Outwardly, you rolled your eyes, but you were secretly glad to see the return of the snark and sass that you missed so much in your commander. “Don’t start with me, or I’ll think twice about joining you laserbrains.”

Fox’s smile only got bigger. “Yes, ma’am.”

- the end -

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #commander fox x female reader #fox x reader #fox x you #clone wars fanfiction #clone trooper x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

203 notes · View notes

ahsokathegray · 4 months

Text

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse || Part One

Pairings: Rexsoka, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Oct. ‘23 - Body Heat

Summary: The war is won and the holidays have arrived. Ahsoka's plans for the solstice have fallen through, but Anakin's made it his business to make sure she isn't spending them alone while house sitting.

Tags: 18+, language, explicit sexual content, accidental voyeurism(?), accidental drug use, angst

Word Count: 6,313

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

The wrinkles between Ahsoka’s brow markings deepened, the lines staying longer than they used to. Anakin tried not to notice.

She glanced between him and Padmé, swallowing any words her younger self would’ve blurted without second thought. “Of course,” she settled on, forcing a smile upon her cracked lips and attempting to appear opposite than how she felt.

Typically, on the annual Winter Solstice, they were side by side on the battlefield. War never halted for special occasions, birthdays, or even holidays, but Master and Padawan always found a moment to celebrate — even if it was sat atop a heap of clankers and splitting one more ration bar than they ought to have.

But the war had ended, Ahsoka had returned to the Jedi Order as a Knight, and Anakin had stepped down to be a husband and father. Naturally, he’d want to spend the holidays with his real family.

It was rare now that they even saw one another. There was no more passing by him in the Temple or finding him arguing with Master Kenobi in the war room. They had been actively mending that absence these last several months over a series of dinners. Though strained, their relationship was improving. Ahsoka had even watched the twins for him and Padmé a few times while on leave so that they might have a date night to themselves.

She had assumed that she’d get to spend the solstice with the Skywalker family — this time at an actual table rather than a makeshift one made from a still-smoking spider droid, sharing a tender roast nuna instead of stale rations.

Except the galaxy had changed and, with it, their pitiful tradition. Ahsoka recalled the previous year’s Winter Solstice. She’d spent it in a hungry, teeth chattering, loneliness in the Coruscant Underworld — save for the orange tooka that found its holiday feast in the trash bins beside her.

This year was supposed to be different, warm, stable. Instead, she would be spending it alone again, house sitting in the Skywalker penthouse.

“It’ll be nice to get away. Luke and Leia can’t miss their first Festival of Light,” she added, trying not to dote on her collapsed plans and instead recalling how brilliant the Naboo festival had been while the war still waged. The first one after the execution of Chancellor Palpatine was sure to be a monumental event.

“Thank you, Ahsoka. We’ll be back in just a few days,” Padmé smiled softly, her comforting eyes empathetic and reassuring. It was impossible to fight off her contagious, radiant positivity.

Anakin nodded at his wife’s words. “I’m sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise. When we get back, we’ll have you and Obi-Wan over for dinner. Even Rex… and Cody too if he’s around. It’ll be just like old times,” he grinned, crossing his arms and donning his signature smirk.

He noticed how the lines in Ahsoka’s face softened at the Captain’s name, followed by a flash of pain behind the blue of her eyes as the lines redrew themselves.

Padmé had kicked her husband’s foot under the table on countless occasions, warning him not to speak too long on the subject of Rex. Each time the good Captain had come up in casual conversation, Ahsoka’s responses became curt. It was always the same dance:

“Have you seen Rex lately?”

“Not really.”

“He was over here a few nights ago for dinner and asked about you.”

“Oh? I’ll have to catch up with him then.”

Ahsoka noticed how the tired Senator leaned into Anakin and gave him a discreet nudge with her elbow. “We’ll return the day after the celebrations and not a moment later,” Padmé said, walking over to a (surely priceless) bowl to retrieve the passkey to the apartment and placing it in Ahsoka’s open palm, squeezing it with her own before she let go. “Don’t worry about watering Ani’s Felucia fern. It’s long dead. He’s a much better parent to the kids than he is to plants. We’ve got a stocked kitchen and the guest bedroom has already been prepared for you. Please, make yourself at home, Ahsoka. Comm us if you need anything at all.”

“Oh and Snips, don’t clean me out of candied bofa fruits this time,” Anakin teased, knowing she wasn’t the culprit that one time and also that she was too old for that nickname now — but using it anyway to lighten the mood.

It worked. Briefly.

Staying in a penthouse was wildly different than staying in the Jedi Temple. Ahsoka knew well that this didn’t account for even half of the luxuries to be had in the galaxy, but it was still something that left her stunned when opening something as simple as the utensil drawer.

What was previously Padmé’s apartment, was now the family apartment. Ahsoka couldn’t comprehend how one person could have a need for so much space. Even with the addition of her husband and two kids, the home still seemed to have a faint echo lingering about.

She found quickly that said echo could be somewhat muffled inside the master refresher — which was its own overly large area, shimmering in gold and encrusted with precious gems. The walls were painted to resemble the lake country of Naboo, frescoes depicting waterfalls, boats, and springtime flora in full bloom. If Ahsoka had to guess, Padmé spent much of her time in this room.

A glance to the sonic told her that the water cascaded from the multiple shower heads in a mock waterfall style. Of course it did. Spending the solstice on Naboo made more sense now. Coruscant was not Padmé’s home — it was Anakin’s and his wife was homesick.

She looked at the claw-foot bathtub in the center of the room. It was so large that it could’ve fit two people comfortably. Ahsoka pressed her cracked lips together and the ache in her muscles felt as though it had doubled. This wasn’t the case, however, it only felt like it at the proximity of such promised relaxation.

Massaging the knot in her back, Ahsoka decided on her plans for the night.

Back in the guest’s quarters, she’d found that Anakin had a hand in making sure that her stay would be as comfortable as possible. The heat was on, her favorite snack food was stacked on the nightstand, and a Shilian holo drama was on the big screen. She smiled to herself.

The other nightstand had a different selection available — snacks she recognized but didn’t reach for often. Perhaps Anakin just wanted to give her more than enough variety during her stay. He really was serious about the bofa fruit, then.

Her own refresher wasn’t nearly as decadent as the master, but still just as impressive. Fluffy towels were stacked on the counter space and Ahsoka clutched one to her chest before padding back across the apartment to the massive claw-foot tub surrounded by murals of the lake country.

Her right montral soon cradled the lip of the tub and her eyes grew heavy with the warmth. The combination of the candles, the dark, and the pink bath crystals were working to whisk her off to sleep, making each moment lasting longer than was supposed to. Ahsoka sank deeper and the soapy water lapped at her skin, swallowing more of her the longer she was in there. All that stuck out above the surface now was her shoulders and head. Her lekku swayed in the water and grazed the hardened peaks of her nipples, pulling a gasp from her cracked lips.

Her eyes opened long enough to see that it was now snowing on Coruscant. Flurries danced downward through the floor length windows, looking like stars in a light polluted sky.

Stars were never visible from the surface of Coruscant.

Ahsoka’s breathing picked up just a little bit, briefly forgetting that the windows were made of one-way glass. She sank back down beneath the bubbles anyway and had more peace of mind for when she did eventually decide to exit the bath.

She was so relaxed and so… alone. She was never really alone like this anymore — not since she’d walked away from the Order. This level of solitude and comfort didn’t exist in the Jedi Temple. Maybe house sitting wasn’t all as bad as she’d predicted. Maybe some types of loneliness weren’t so bad.

One of her hands drifted downward to the bone of her hip, the contact making her jolt. It had been quite a while since this kind of touch had been there. She sighed. Ahsoka was reminded of the fingers that last touched her like this — fingers that hadn’t been her own.

Rex had delicately taken hold of her here, his other hand on her left hip, as he’d thrusted into her aching center and pressed hot kisses to her neck. She remembered the way small bruises had peppered her skin the next morning and the sounds he’d made in her montrals.

A soft moan vibrated on her lips and she gave a breathy laugh at herself.

Her core fluttered, squeezing around nothing but a memory. Everything that had transpired between them on Mandalore, the journey there, the journey back… all of it had led to a stolen rendezvous in the Tribunal after it had been stationed back on Coruscant.

They’d delivered Maul to the Temple and stopped by the barracks to check on the men. Rex had insisted on accompanying her to the Venator shipyard to do a round of inspection after the inspection team had finished — after the lights had half gone out and suspiciously way after hours.

For what seemed like a split second of a rip in the seam of time, neither one of them had a responsibility to their titles.

She was a citizen and so was Rex.

There was no rank, there was no war, there was no Captain, or Commander, or Jedi, or advisor — there was only what they had for one another. There was only the resolution of so much charged banter. There were only them in the General’s quarters on the Tribunal. Only them on Coruscant. Only them in the galaxy.

Ahsoka felt the sting on her lips as a gasp escaped her lungs, ragged as she circled her clit in the same, slow and torturous pace Rex had done. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before letting it go with a moan. The water around her had begun to ripple, now a product of the movements below the bubbles. She sank further into the water and threw her head back, recalling the drag of Rex’s thick cock between her thighs.

The sensation felt impossibly heightened.

Choking out another moan, Ahsoka bravely lifted one leg out of the bath and hooked it on the edge of the tub, giving herself more room to move and allowing her fingers to drift lower.

Rex fished the passkey to his former General’s apartment out of his pocket and waited for the light to flash green. The doors parted for him and closed softly as he stepped into the entryway.

It was notably odd being here alone without the usual hosts present and greeting party of astromech and the protocol droid. He almost welcomed the silence had it not been so eerie.

They could’ve left the lights on in the foyer at least.

When Skywalker had asked him to house sit, he’d raised an eyebrow but accepted nonetheless. What else was he supposed to do? Clones didn’t really celebrate the solstice. They celebrated everything and nothing and all of it with a drink in hand and a headache the next morning.

If bets were being taken, he’d put all his credits on the boys piling into 79s this week.

He hadn’t stayed with the GAR after the war had been won. And as much as he’d wanted to, he couldn’t allow himself to accept the permanent position of being Ahsoka’s Commander.

Being that close to her yet forbidden from being with her, would’ve been too heavy on the heart — not to mention dangerous for her, himself, and the men. So he left. Being a soldier was all he knew how to do and he regretted his choice every day. But it was necessary. He had to learn how to be something other than a clone, other than a soldier, and something other than a man in love with his superior.

Sighing, Rex tossed the passkey into the dish by the door and noticed that the spare one was missing. He stilled and slowed his breathing, checking a second time to confirm.

Skywalker had been specific. There were supposed to be two.

Reaching for the pistol strapped to his leg, Rex began making a sweep of the penthouse, aiming first for where most of the valuables would be residing. He took a left into the apartment and stalked towards the master bedroom, finding the door wide open. A glance around at the other doors told him this was indeed the right call — every other door was sealed.

His former General was still on speed dial. He could reach them if he needed, even if they wouldn’t do much good from Naboo.

Ahsoka was also still on speed dial as well.

Rex took a moment to glance down at the first button on his wrist comm. She was currently on leave if he wasn’t mistaken. A coil tightened in the center of his chest (maybe a little to the left). As war hardened as he was, the pain of losing her still cut deep. He ground his teeth.

They were adults. She’d come if he called.

No disturbances were coming from the main suite. The bed was made and tucked with droid-like precision. All of the drawers were closed and the curtains hung undisturbed. No glass or debris littered the floor. For a brief moment, Rex relaxed his grip on his blaster, but that was only until he saw the faint flicker of light coming from the crack in the ‘fresher door.

The lavender and gold doors flew open, ricocheting against the painted walls and chipping the lovely paint. His eyes were narrowed and brows furrowed as he scanned the refresher, not at all expecting to find lit candles in a dark room and a very naked Ahsoka in the largest bathtub he’s ever seen.

His eyebrows slowly rose upward in shock. Gone was the instinct of a soldier ready to strike.

She would’ve stopped it if she could, but it was far too late. Her eyes would’ve stayed squeezed shut had Rex not entered the room — the very image of what brought upon her orgasm was now standing directly across from her. She didn’t have to picture his fingers anymore. She could see them. His chest was heaving, his skin glowing, eyes reflecting the flicker of the candles, his pretty lips parted. Ahsoka was helpless but to choke out a moan, helpless to control the jolts of pleasure coursing throughout her body as she came, eyes locked with his as she came undone to the thought of him.

Three candles only provided so much visibility, but she didn’t need them to be able to tell that Rex had gone deeply red in the face.

He was frozen where he stood, unable to move, unable to divert his gaze. He’d only witnessed the climax of her pleasure for one night, engraved it into his memory, certain he’d never see it again. Yet here it was, here she was, legs trembling as she came right in front of him.

Ahsoka’s hands moved beneath the water, her arms following as she removed them from between her thighs. She was still holding eye contact with Rex, who began to notice that the only sound in the room was their combined, panting breaths. He’d been standing there, looking at her for far too long.

Discreetly, he stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets and adjusted himself, now looking anywhere but her and delayed in picking up on the scent of some recreational spice.

Chancing a look up to the small table next to the bath, he saw the pink dust. Perhaps her pupils were only dilated due to the drugs and not because of him. Ahsoka's head lolled against the side of the tub and Rex was all too aware that her eyes were still on him, watching him try to not watch her as she came down from just one of her highs.

Of all the things he’d been trained for, this certainly hadn’t made the list. He should leave. He should step out of the room and wait for her to be clothed. But his feet remained still. Stuck. What was he supposed to say now?

“I thought Jedi weren’t permitted the use of recreational spice,” he said, hearing his words tremble in his throat as he motioned towards the jar of dust.

Not the right thing to say. What are you doing? She’s in the bath. You need to leave.

Ahsoka giggled and looked at the spice and then back at him, pulling her one leg back into the water. He swallowed thickly. She licked her bottom lip, her mouth presumably very dry at this point. “The Jedi are quite different than you and I last remember,” she responded slowly, still laughing.

“Of all the rules they revised, I somehow doubt this was one of them,” he retorted, leaning against the marbled countertop and crossing his arms. You shouldn’t be in here.

Rex forced himself to push off the surface, to put a stop to this and not let himself grow comfortable here. Comfort was the furthest from what he was feeling, but something about Ahsoka made it feel so natural, even when it was anything but. In fact, it was most unnatural for a clone and a Jedi to be caught in this situation.

It was wrong before and it was still wrong now.

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

His heart lodged itself in his throat.

She continued, sounding far away, “I thought it was bath crystals.”

He coughed and rubbed the back of his too hot neck, readying to take his fleeing steps from the room. Rex didn’t know what to do with his hands. At this moment at least. He absolutely knew what he’d be doing with them later, in the privacy of his own apartment and with an amount of guilt that would last him to the next solstice.

His disapproval of the drugs seemed to amuse her. She leaned forwards and crossed her arms, folding them under her chin on the edge of the bath, prompting him to cough again. Only the soap covered her chest, slipping between…

“Will you be able to get out?” Rex asked, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes fixed on the pink powder on the small table in front of her. If he didn’t, he’d be wholly incapable of keeping his eyes at appropriate levels.

Her confidence was… intoxicating. In this state, Ahsoka felt zero ounce of embarrassment from the act he’d just seen her complete.

Blinking lazily, she slipped a little on her knees and giggled. Well past her limit to exit the tub without injury, Rex concluded. He ground his teeth. Karking hells. Leaving the room alone certainly wasn’t in the question now. The soldier in him shifted into gear again, finding the towel that sober Ahsoka had set out for herself and thanking their makers that she’d done so. He stepped around the tub and held it up, letting the material unfold itself and shield her nudity from him. Rex put his back to the mirrors.

Ahsoka giggled again from the water as she bit on her lower lip, looking at Rex through half-lidded eyes.

Fuck.

Tearing his gaze away from her, Rex approached the edge of the porcelain tub and took great interest in the colorful tiles at his feet. The cool air coming from being near the windows told him he was sweating. “Can you stand?” he asked.

“I can try,” Ahsoka said, gripping the edges of the bath, wet fingers grazing Rex’s pants. He bit down on his tongue hard.

From what he could tell out of his peripheral vision, her movements were entirely uncoordinated — like a newborn kybuck walking for the first time. Taking a second to regain her land legs, Ahsoka rose with wobbly knees to her feet, the dripping of the water off of her body filling the room. Rex tried not to imagine it, he really did, the way the water traveled down her breasts and gathered by her navel. He tried not to imagine the shine and slip of her sienna skin, the water streaking down her torso and the swell of her ass, collecting there and trailing down her thighs.

It was an image he remembered all too well and an image concealed to him now only by a towel.

Yes, Rex remembered — all too painfully well. He was cursed to remember. The feel of her lips between his, her supple skin under his fingertips, the flutter of her eyes, the sounds passing over her tongue. He’d memorized the curve of her breasts, the taste of her kiss, the way her hands scratched along his scalp, the way she breathed his name, how slow they’d taken it at first, the way her cunt sucked him in and wrapped so tightly around him, how wet she’d been… and how they’d washed one another in the sonic after.

It was almost ironic that they meet like this now. Rex could’ve laughed if the memory hadn’t—

Ahsoka suddenly fell forward and took a frantic hold of the towel, thinking it would break her fall but pulling it from Rex’s grasp completely. It dropped to the floor in a heap and her hands scrambled for the next available thing, pulling him into her with two fistfuls of his white shirt. Reacting quickly, Rex’s arms shot out to both hold her close and prevent his own fall, placing one hand at the small of her bare back and the other on the lip of the tub.

But he was only successful at one of those attempts. His shins were flush against the bath and Ahsoka was flush against him, the soap in the water unwilling to allow her feet to grip the bottom. Finally slipping, Ahsoka took Rex along with her, yelping as they fell and the bubbles engulfed them.

Unscrewing his eyes, the first thing Rex saw were small heaps of bubbles falling around them and framing Ahsoka’s face. The warm water lapped at his neck, having soaked through his tee and trousers. He blew away the bubbles on his nose. Two lekku were draped on either side of his head and both of his hands were holding… holding her hips.

She’d either landed on top of him by sheer accident or he’d somehow managed to cradle her fall while they were going down. But the only thing he knew for certain was that a dark, hardened nipple had just grazed over his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek, keenly aware of the twitch of his cock and the way Ahsoka’s hot core was seated against his belt.

He’d turned his head but seeing the white marks situated above her opening had been completely unavoidable. Heat seared across his face as though he’d been slapped.

Water continued to slosh around them and Rex tore his hands away from her naked frame, desperately trying to move in a way where she couldn’t feel the stiff erection in his pants. There’d be no tent and no hiding it. The water would allow Ahsoka to see and feel everything. His frantic reaction prompted her to leap into action, accidentally grinding herself against him in attempts to mend their situation and causing Rex’s hips to buck.

A moan was stifled in both of their throats and again he caught sight of the pretty white markings above her pussy, screwing his eyes shut to avoid a third. “Ahsoka,” he choked out, “Just follow my lead and I’ll get us out of here.”

What was left of the contents of the tub sloshed around them as Rex sat up. With his eyes closed, he reached out for her arms, which she gratefully offered to him so that he could pull them up together. Ahsoka swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth, and found that looking down only made it dry up more. Rex was undeniably hard, the head of his thick cock outlined by his soaked pants.

A whine escaped her.

“Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” Rex asked.

“M’okay,” she squeaked, watching his boots as they left the tub. He cracked an eye open to look for the towel that had dropped, only to find that it too had been drenched.

He sighed and Ahsoka witnessed the flush occupying the shells of Rex’s ears. “Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed.

For the first time that evening, her heart leapt into her throat. Her senses were dulled and nowhere near the end of their fog, but this still made her insides flutter. Ahsoka did as she was asked, her eyes locked on Rex’s face as she hooked her hands behind him. Force, he looked as beautiful as ever.

She hadn’t seen him… hadn’t spoken with him since…

Rex’s hands connected with her hips again, lingering for a fraction of a second and not even giving her time to gasp before he bent and slotted an arm under her knees and one behind her back.

The small gasp fell past her lips as he lifted her up. Ahsoka looked past him and into the mirror behind them, witnessing the way his muscles rippled under his wet, white t-shirt. If her mouth wasn’t already dry, it surely was now. She giggled again to herself, kicking her feet in a girlish sort of way. It couldn’t be helped. Rex just made her feel so giddy and—

Ahsoka kicked the jar of spice onto the floor.

“Fuck me,” Rex sighed, defeated.

Pink dust swirled around them and they each coughed, his boots crunching the shards of glass now littered on the tiles. Ahsoka’s giggling ceased only for a moment before it started up again. She threw her head back in laughter as Rex walked them out of the room, shaking his head.

But Ahsoka saw the slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth.

His head was starting to feel light as he approached the guest bedroom. Ahsoka was humming and kicking her feet to whatever tune she had in her head. It almost sounded like a cheesy solstice carol, but Ahsoka was never one to hold the correct tune or even learn the proper words or melodies to songs. She was exceptional in everything she did — everything but singing.

It was like listening to a choir of porgs. No, actually, it was like a choir of porgs being grilled alive for solstice dinner.

And he loved her for it.

The lamps and holo tv cast a dim glow in the room and Rex was grateful. He nudged the switch for the fan with his shoulder, turning it off, and placed Ahsoka gently onto the mattress, feeling himself sway as he leaned down. She released her grip on his neck but her fingers lingered, trailing under his jaw and causing him to choke on a hiss.

His pants were already clinging to him and she was just making it worse.

He had to look up to the bed canopy to prevent his eyes from drifting any lower. The doors to her ‘fresher were open and he spotted a stack of towels, lifting himself off the mattress for it and grabbing up a fresh one. Switching the light off, he sighed.

He’d have to go back into the master ‘fresher and blow out all those candles Ahsoka had lit.

Placing the towel on the edge of the bed, he began the journey back down the hall. The less he looked at Ahsoka the better.

When he returned to the scene of the crime, the room was in a thin cloud of pink dust. One of the candles had already been put by their splash.

Rex pulled his shirt up over his nose so as to prevent any more inhalation and mopped up the puddle on the floor. By the looks of the painted walls, he doubted that Senator Amidala had ever intended to add a real lake to her Naboo themed refresher.

Quickly, he found proper cleaning supplies in a hall closet and erased the mess. It was like it had never happened.

He was blowing out the last candle, however, when he saw the remnants of the spice being sucked up into the vents. Of course this couldn’t be easy. If he didn’t turn off the entire system, it would spread throughout the apartment.

The walk back down the hall wasn’t as smooth as the first time around. His steps were noticeably less coordinated. As a soldier, it enraged him that he had no control over it. How much spice was safe to inhale in one sitting?

Ahsoka was shivering on the bed when he returned, toweling off her lekku and still stark naked. His dick twitched helplessly and he leaned into the wall.

“Rex,” Ahsoka slurred his name. He leaned further into the wall. She was looking down at her lekku. “I think the white is turning blue.”

“You’re not turning blue.”

“But—”

“I had to turn off the heat,” he explained, handing her one of the Senator’s robes.

She finally looked up at him and her lekku dropped back down to her chest. Her towel drifted down past her collarbones and Rex offered the housecoat more urgently.

Ahsoka pushed it aside, delighted amusement painting her face. “Rex, what are you wearing?”

“The same thing you’re about to be wearing,” he answered, “Take it.”

Orange fingers took the luxury housecoat and blue eyes went wide. “This is expensive,” her blown pupils tried to narrow, “Wait. If this one’s… Is that Anakin’s?”

Rex looked down to where Ahsoka was pointing. In the haze of shucking his wet clothes and pulling the robes on in the dark, he’d missed the monogram. Silver embroidery decorated the chest of the blue garment, reading in curly letters: Ani.

Karking hells.

He’d never seen Ahsoka laugh so hysterically. She fell onto her back with laughter, her face and lekku beginning to flush. Even Rex couldn’t keep a straight face this time. It looked ridiculous on him. He couldn’t tell if it was the spice, Ahsoka’s guffawing, or the image of General Skywalker wearing a fur lined, baby blue housecoat with his nickname on it that made him join her in hysterics.

Tears collected at the corners of Ahsoka’s eyes and somehow Rex was now face to face with her. Had he collapsed onto the bed in laughter? He couldn’t pick himself up or make himself stop long enough to answer. It felt like if he’d were to try and lift his head up that it would weigh thousands of pounds.

With his face smushed into the bed, their laughing slowly started to cease, turning into only a smile as they watched one another.

The towel was millimeters away from exposing Ahsoka’s breasts.

Rex reached for her forgotten housecoat and pulled it up for her to grab. “Put this on. It’s gonna get cold. I’ll call someone t’come fix it in the morning.”

Ahsoka nodded and opened the robe to access the arm holes. She got one in successfully and pulled the excess material over her chest to hunt for the other. She missed. And missed. And missed. And missed again.

“Rex,” she whined, “Help.”

Her plea broke him out of his daze of watching her, not even realizing she was struggling. Something about the way her back kept arching off the mattress made his cock slap against his stomach and he’d been lost in the motions.

His fingers didn’t feel like his own as he moved the robe around to find the other arm hole and hold it open for her. Ahsoka fit it inside and smiled in triumph, allowing Rex to lean over her to close the robe shut, tying it securely. The hands that didn’t feel like his own stayed motionless at her sides.

A lone orange finger roamed over his knuckles before Ahsoka turned to look out the window. The snow was falling harder.

Rex swallowed and pulled away, collapsing back into the bed at her side and looking in the other direction.

Why were all of his favorite, guilty pleasure treats on the nightstand?

“‘Soka?” he asked, his voice cracking.

She hummed.

“Did you do this?”

Turning to face him, her brow markings turned inward. “What d’you mean?”

He licked his lips. Now his mouth was dry. “I mean why are you here? Why are my favorite things on the night table? Why is that Shilian classic on the tv with the woman I said looks like you? Did you know I’d be here?”

The crease between her brows had deepened. “Rex, what are you talking about? I didn’t d—”

Her words trailed.

He—

No.

Oh, when he gets back!

“Anakin,” she breathed, shaking her head and staring up at the ceiling. “He thinks he’s so slick…”

“I’m confused,” Rex said slowly, propping himself up onto pillows that cost more than his life.

Ahsoka did the same, pressing her nose into the fuzz that lined the collar of her similarly monogrammed robe. “Did Anakin ask you to house sit while he was away?”

His features didn’t move. “Well, yeah, but—”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

She nodded to herself and laughed at seemingly nothing, that was, until Rex remembered the passkeys.

“That kriffing— He—”

Ahsoka finished for him, “Orchestrated this whole thing.” She definitely butchered the first word.

Rex looked at the opposite nightstand and found that their guess was confirmed. All of Ahsoka’s favorite treats were sitting atop it — everything he knew her to love. And the film. She’d said once that it was her childhood favorite.

He should be angry. He should be outraged at Skywalker and he ought to return his passkey to the bowl and leave her to house sit. This wasn’t a two person job, afterall.

But he didn’t move. If he did, it might take thousands of pounds of effort.

“When did he ask you?”

“Just before he left. I’d come to surprise them for dinner,” she answered, her voice less musical than before.

They sat in silence for a long while, neither of them paying any real attention to the holo drama. With no heat running, the apartment’s silence was loud. They could even hear the snow falling outside. Ahsoka pulled the towel over her to retain more warmth.

Rex reached for the nightstand and downed half of the bottle of water Anakin had presumably left for him. He was trying to focus on sobering up and not think about how he and Ahsoka had found themselves in a bed together. How could the Gener— Skywalker do this? All those countless dinners. He and Padmé both know how painful the subject of Ahsoka was for him.

Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke — so quiet that he thought it was part of the program playing on the holo tv at first.

“Why did you leave?”

The silence between them suddenly felt heavy, like it could weigh thousands of—

“You resigned without even telling me first,” she continued, glancing at him once, bravely, before turning back to the window.

She was hurting just as badly as he was.

Rex felt like that shattered jar of spice.

“I– I couldn’t serve with you anymore,” he choked out. “I couldn’t serve under a superior I’d slept with. You’d agreed to rejoin the Jedi and… it wouldn’t… it wouldn’t have been in the best interest of the men if I’d had sexual relations with—”

“Is that all it was to you?” Ahsoka cut him off, her voice louder and wavering. “Sexual relations?”

The pain in her voice sent a crack running straight through the largest vessel in his heart. “Ahsoka. Of course not.”

His eyes were still adamant not to focus but he fought against the high to train his gaze on her.

“Ahsoka, it’s all I’ve thought about since. It’s all I’ve thought about for months. I thought… I thought leaving the GAR was what you wanted me to do. At the time, it’s what I wanted to do too. We’d finally been given the choice, all of the clones, and I made mine. I couldn’t choose the Republic and choose you too. It wasn’t even in the question to have both. I’d be failing the men, failing my government, and failing you if I stayed. You don’t know how I’d dreamed of one day being your Commander, calling you General. I thought after Maul, that’s what we’d get. I knew Skywalker would transfer me to you permanently. But when we got back… we— we got so much more than that,” he paused, “And then it just…”

She sighed, her eyes glittering with tears threatening to spill. “And then it just didn’t happen.”

“Just once. That’s all we got,” Rex laughed at himself to avoid breaking down. “I’d never regretted a decision more. I should’ve let you inspect the Tribunal yourself. I shouldn’t have come into your quarters with you. I should’ve turned in at the barracks, kept the promotion, and served with you and the 332nd. At least, that way, I’d still be able to see you. Even if you only spoke to me because you had to, we’d still be near, and I’d still die for you even then — gladly. We should’ve gotten so much more than we did.”

Moodboard by @ventresses

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse (Part Two)

#rexsoka #rexsoka fic #rexsoka monthly #october 2023: body heat #my fic #pent up in the skywalker penthouse #ahsokathegray

20 notes · View notes

helpinghanikan · 6 months

Text

Star Wars: Kinktober 2023

Day 9: Sleepy (Fives)

Kinktober Masterlist

Clones aren’t given much in the way of vacation time or a break. That they get leave at all was simply due to convenience. If it were up to those Kaminoans the clones would all be kept in a warehouse until it was time to fight again.

Fives would have to find the time to thank the Jedi council for this free time. It’s only because of that that he ever got to meet you.

The last campaign had been a particularly brutal one. Fives didn’t need to say it, but you could tell when he asked to just go back to your apartment than to go out. Seeing his face at your door just solidified it.

“It was…Yeah, it was a lot.” That is all he says when you get the door shut behind you. “Sorry, I’m just really tired, Babe. That smells amazing, though.”

He insists on eating something of what you ordered. He goes through more than a regular man from both hunger and the simple fact he rarely gets to have real food. You take the dishes from him when he finishes, nodding towards your bedroom as firmly as any order on the field.

He falls asleep before you get in with him.

Several hours, and a little bit of sleep, later you wake to Fives against you. His facial hair tickles the back of your neck. A similar feeling to when he goes down on you and that same hair tickles the inside of your thighs.

You might have fallen back asleep if it wasn’t for the rocking of his hips. A slow grind against your backside while he sleeps.

Everyone was guilty of a sex dream now and again. It had been longer than anyone would have liked since you’d last had sex. It was for that selfish reason you reached a hand up against his cheek. Whispering “Fives,” to try and wake him up gently.

“Wha-?” he asks with a snort.

“You’re grinding in your sleep.” You whisper, straining to look back at him. “Specifically grinding against me. I can feel how hard you are, Fives.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Baby. I didn’t mean to wake you,” He says, laying back against the bed.

“I didn’t want you to stop. I just wanted to ask before we go any further,” You say, reaching a hand up to caress his face. “If you’re okay going further, that is. Not to pressure you, but I did buy you dinner.”

Fives has that clone grin that sends all the girls wild. Even when he’s half-awake you fall in love every time he looks your way. “If I’m ever not okay with sex, I want you to take my blaster and shoot, okay?”

He nuzzles into your neck as you laugh. “I don’t we’ll get there,” you said, helping him slip your pants down your ankles.

It’s harder than one would think to get stripped while under covers. Pants and underwear get lost in the sheets, tangled around ankles, and escaping onto the floor. That’s probably why so many couples just focus on getting the necessary items out of the way. But Fives didn’t want to go the easy route, he wanted to feel all of you.

His hands are calloused, but this makes it a pleasant feeling on your breasts. Squeezing your soft mounds, pinching the nipples, and massaging them on this side of rough.

His entire body is so warm you’re almost sweating. He hadn’t even touched your pussy yet and already you were moaning and groaning. Those sounds only got worse as his knee slid up between your thighs.

“Missed you,” He says, open mouth kisses on your neck. “Missed you so much.”

It’s a warm stretch as Fives pushes home. Both of you moaning into the empty air at the simple relief from being in each other’s arms again.

He makes slow but strong thrusts. Rolling deeply again and again with strokes that light a fire in your pelvis. Growing and growing Fives continues to massage your breasts and presses between your lower lips.

“Fives…” You call out in a whisper.

Your name comes from him just as desperately. Although Fives is the first to cum, he doesn’t stop his movements. Not until you’re getting just as tight around him. Milking his spent cock without worrying about having to clean up tomorrow.

“I missed you,” He repeated when you lay there in silence.

“Then you better keep coming back.” You tell him, falling back asleep with his cock still inside.

#reader insert #star wars #star wars imagine #kinktober 2022 #Fives x reader #Clone trooper fives #arc trooper fives #Kinktober 2023 #FLuff

29 notes · View notes

seth-shitposts · 4 months

Note

I just want to say that I love the name for your newest au "Sense of Faith, Self & Valor" because those are qualities that are all visible differently in each character and yet also something that they desperately want to embody more of, Kallus with being Faithful and full of Valor yet having no true sense of self, Tua with Faith & Self but having no Valor, and He with Self and Valor but having to Faith because of how far he has fallen from what He used to be.

Friend, friend, MUN, when I tell you I had to break out into a sprint because of this in my inbox-

THANK YOU.

Much thanks to @mystical-salamander for helping us in naming this au because I was very much kicking myself in the ass for not having changed the label of Defectors AU early on when I realized 1- I was indeed going to add and expand upon the au more and 2-the og concept was definitely changing. Because this au is much more accurately defectors than the other one, but it's too far developed for me to detach it now. It's not getting a name change until the story is finished and I start posting the first chapter.

Salamander helped us with a large chunk of the name, and after the conversation I felt it was still missing one more crucial piece, so I added it.

And your reading about it is very correct.

Kallus has such a lack of Self, that his senses of Faith and Valor were increased to cover that but ultimately led to him allowing himself to make a line of the worst mistakes he can't take back or repair. He dedicated himself so much and so intensely that he allowed himself to be comfortable in blind faith.

Tua knows herself well and is very self aware. Her dedicating her faith and self was how she covered her lack of valor, but she couldn't hide that when things got intense, and in so, her faith wavered. Her sense of self didn't and that was how she ends up still continuing with faith, but her lack of valor still haunts her.

And for Him, he knows large portions of his self, and his valor is even greater. But his faith continuously has not been whole. His faith had wavered and weakened frequently in the jedi order, and he left at something after the Trials of Ahsoka Tano. He was always willing to step forth his valor for his sense of self, but his lack of faith still limits him. To the point now that it affects his self.

I'm very much looking forward to this au. I'm having it start around the time Kallus's loyalty to the empire has disintegrated, which in this au is maybe a few weeks or so after Bahryn, and a few more weeks before he starts trials to pick up the Fulcrum role&code name.

I very much look forward to not shutting the fuck up about this. I will drop more information after I've posted the first concept dump on ao3. In the meantime, I will answer any questions about this au. I'll be bouncing between this in our other WIPs&AUs frequently. Atm, this is just the one demanding our attention and getting our mental&emotional stability through working two jobs.

#this is currently the emotional support au #star wars rebels #swr #sense of faith self and valor #sofsv #sofsv au #sense of faith self and valor au #alexsandr kallus #maketh tua #the grand inquisitor #swr au #star wars rebels au

19 notes · View notes

jinmukangwrites · 9 months

Text

a place to call home

Fandom: Jedi Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: G Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: My older sister was playing Black Thunder (by Bad Wolves, Serj Tankian, and The Hu) and it took all my will power to not info dump about Jedi Fallen Order. I was very brave about it. Instead I wrote 2.6k word one-shot. I'm still so glad they brought The Hu back for more music in Survivor.

Summary: Pyloon's Saloon was named after his great-grandma; naturally, it was always a place meant for his family. Took Cal long enough to visit, but that's alright. He's not even that upset it took breaking the Mantis to get him here.

~~~°~~~

The saloon wasn't everything Greez had ever wanted, but it's his, and dammit if he won't make it everything he's ever wanted.

For now, it's incredibly shabby. Run down. The floorboards creak and there's some kind of mold on the walls. The furniture would have to be thrown out and replaced with things that are less stained and more inviting to use. He's pretty sure the booth chairs have blood stains on them, and vomit. The previous owner really didn't care about making the place homely, which is probably why no one was there to stop them from catching blaster-to-face disease.

The upholstery isn't even patolli-weave.

There are plenty of things that need repair. The upholstery for one, but the railing Monk uses to get around has a dent further down that prevents him from getting to the end of the battered bar, the walls need repainted, the doors leading upstairs are broken and the basement is covered in junk. That's not even the half of it. It's daunting.

Greez is so excited.

Well, the only thing he can do is start.

It's slow progress, but progress is progress no matter how small. He starts with the most essential stuff, only using Cere's money where he absolutely needs to. He'd like to save the majority of that for the actual food and beverages. Everything else? Well, he could fix the Stinger Mantis despite how many times Cal seemed determined to launch it into any imperial fleet he saw. He could keep the ship running after all that, how hard would a few automatic doors, the fish tank, and a music box be?

He could fix those on his own.

He works, and he works, every day until eventually he's able to actually serve customers. Doma comes in first, Turgle at her heels, but it's more pleasantries than anything. She's sober, most alcohols don't agree with her and she doesn't think they ever will, but she does try some food while Turgle chatters both their ears off after one drink. Doma hardly ever visits again unless she makes a particularly good profit at her store and wishes to treat herself to his food. Turgle comes all the time, which worries Greez at first because he talks to anyone else who enters; mostly one-time patron prospectors. One-time is a loose word, most of these prospectors end up dead looking for things they probably shouldn't.

Though, slowly, Greez gets more regular that Turgle doesn't chase away. Sparse, but there. He even, to his disdain, gets visits from the local gang. Those Bedlam Raiders give him bad mojo, but as long as they're not challenged they don't do anything besides antagonize a little.

It's good.

Greez misses Cere, he wishes she'd visit, but they at least talk whenever they're both free. Merrin visits whenever she passes by, as rarely as that is, which he appreciates; he's long since admitted he adores her even if she's a spooky witch that there's a slight possibility she's waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump him and blood sacrifice him. And Cal...

Cal.

It's impossible to not care for the kid, even though he hardly ever responds to his messages. He's busy with other people, fighting the good fight, probably scratching the Mantis to shreds. Cal's angry with him, Greez knows this. After Cere and Merrin left, it was only the two of them. Three, including BD-1. But two, because BD-1 and Cal were practically the same entity anyways. Greez knew that him leaving had hurt Cal, but... Greez just couldn't fly anymore. He couldn't handle that danger that Cal chased. For the first time in Greez's life, he wanted to land and live calmly. He's had enough of space, enough of the Empire.

So no, Cal hardly talks, nor does he visit, but Greez does his best to keep the kid in mind anyways. Cal can't stay away forever. Someday, he's going to break the Mantis just right and come back with his tail between his legs because he only knows how to take apart starships, not fix them. Greez did his best to teach him to fix some basic stuff, but Cal ripped out the broken bits so roughly that Greez nearly had an aneurysm. He ended up having to replace some wiring Cal had thought was "useless". Yeah, useless to resell. Expensive to replace new. Didn't teach him that in scrapper school.

Greez hopes Cal wrecks the Mantis soon. It's been too long. He even misses that little droid and how he always seems to purposely be underfoot while Greez cooked.

He misses Cal so bad that he almost begins to subconsciously fix things up in the saloon with Cal in mind. He keeps all of them in mind, of course, he named the place after his great-grandma this place is meant for family, but Cal's the only one who still seems lost in life, who's scrambling through the Galaxy trying to find footing but not really knowing what he wants. It's an easy decision to make the basement for Cal. Kid needs a home, and Greez will make sure there's always one waiting for him when he needs it.

"It's not the best, but it'll do until I find you something better," Doma says, one day, months into Greez's stay. He's become good friends with Doma, she's probably the only one who truly understands leaving the fast life because it became too much.

Greez holds a small jukebox in his lower pair of hands, looking it over and wondering slightly how she had gotten her hands on it. It's dingy. Battered. Probably isn't too loud. But he trusts Doma when it comes to this stuff, she doesn't skip out on him, she always does the best she can. She's the one who got him all the Patolli-weave in the first place. If this small jukebox is the best she can do, then he's happy. It's better than nothing. It's not like he can afford a live band like all the big cantina's have in more trafficked corners of the Galaxy, let alone pay live performers. So, something small that can probably only be heard when you're a good few meters within its range is something he can accept compared to the sad silence.

"It's radio is broken," Doma says, though she laughs, "not like that matters. The Koboh-abyss blocks most of the good channels. There's some tracks in there though, and I can always see if I can keep an eye out for more music if you want anything different. I tried to put things on there that would fit the atmosphere of Pyloon's."

Greez opens the compartment of the music box and sure enough, there's an old cartridge-like device with a frugal list of songs. He doesn't recognize any of the songs, let alone the artists, but once again, he trusts Doma.

"How much do I owe ya?" He asks. Doma gives him a price. It's a little high in his opinion, but she's a business woman and not one to make discounts even for friends. He happily hands over the credits, then shuts the compartment. Before he leaves, however, a thought crosses his mind.

"Hey," he asks, "have you heard of The Agasar?"

-o-o-o-o-

Just like Greez hoped, Cal eventually breaks the Mantis enough to seek him out. It's great to see the kid, but it's so unexpected it hardly registered even after saying hi to BD-1.

The kid looks like he's barely been sleeping, let alone eating, though he at least looks like he's gotten plenty of sun. There's freckles everywhere, way more than what he had after Greez first nabbed him off that sunless sopping-wet rock Bracca.

Luckily, the food and sleep problem is exactly what Greez was expecting.

He's careful to not baby Cal too much, not when Cal's clearly hurting about something. It probably took a lot of convincing on BD's part to get Cal over here and Greez knows that topics like "settle down" "live your own life" and "pack away the lightsaber for a little bit" will only start arguments. Cal's at a point in his life where he doesn't yet see that he has value beyond being a weapon, but Greez is hoping that the right pushes here and there will get him there.

For now, he introduces Cal to his room. It's chock full of things that used to belong to Cal and things Greez plans on giving to Cal. There's nothing else to call it besides his room. Cal seems shocked by the space so clearly set aside and prepared for him, and his face softens into a hurt kind of touched that Greez knows means he appreciates the room a lot but doesn't think he can accept it.

Give it time, Greez.

Honestly it's a miracle Cal managed to sleep at all. The bed must have been comfy because when Greez goes down the next morning to check on him, he's out like a light. Doesn't shift at all, not even a roll of movement behind his eyelids. BD-1 charges silently besides him, looking all content and almost cute. Greez can't help but watch the two of them for a moment, drinking in the peace, wishing Cal could feel like he deserves a little of it.

And sure, the morning starts with a bit of an argument, one that Greez has to end up dropping when Cal goes silent, signaling the conversation is over. He wishes he can shake sense into him, show him that he doesn't need to hold the line all the time. But for now, he can at least make sure Cal knows that Greez has a place for him. A home.

"And Greez... I'll think about what you said."

That's all he can ask for.

And it's somehow not a surprise that Cal comes back a few hours later through the front door looking all dusty and giddy. Greez had been busy trying to turn away some guy with more muscle in one pectoral than what Greez had on his entire body, but Cal quickly introduces Bode as a friend.

Cal also introduces Zee, an ancient Jedi droid, raving about old prospector legends; the treasure planet of Tanalorr. Whatever exhaustion and sadness weighed Cal down this morning has lifted with the breath of adventure, and Greez isn't about to turn him away from it.

However, when Greez offers to fix the Mantis while Cal goes out to check out the forest array, he has to stop the kid from leaving right out the door not three minutes after walking in it.

"Hold on," Greez says, stopping Cal in his tracks. "Have you even eaten anything since arriving?"

Cal pauses, and Greez knows the answer. Greez brushes his hands on his clothes and starts heading to the kitchen. "Grab some seat."

"Greez," Cal halfheartedly argues, slumping down at the bar while that Bode guy chuckles and sits down the next stool over.

"The array's already waited a few hundred years, what's a couple more hours?" Greez asks, looking for his mitts. It's been awhile since he's cooked anything himself, the saloon has a set menu and he's already shown Monk how to cook all those things. "Monk's fixing up Zee, let me fix up you."

He hears Cal chuckle, he says something to Bode, but Greez can't hear because he's officially in the kitchen and turning on the stoves.

"Oh—krif-" he stumbles, barely managing to stop himself from dropping his nice glass pan while BD-1 boops happily and skitters out of the kitchen. Greez shakes his head.

He makes an old casserole recipe that his great grandma got from her great grandpa. He has to replace some of the ingredients with other things, as Lateron spices are both hard to get his two pairs of hands on and also sometimes poisonous to human stomachs. He wouldn't want to poison Cal on day two of him finally visiting.

Now that's a thought, he could mildly poison Cal and force him to get some more sleep. He chuckles to himself, he'd never do that.

He brings the casserole out a good hour later, finding Cal lazily slumped over the bar, his finger tracing the rim of a cup. Monk must have visited for a moment between working on repairing Zee, Greez hopes he didn't give the kid anything too strong. Bode is nowhere to be seen, but once Cal notices him arriving he perks up and explains Bode went to the restroom.

That might keep the man busy for a while, Greez thinks happily, the toilet always clogs and Bode seems like the kind of guy who would rather suffer trying to unclog a public toilet instead of walking out and pretending he didn't do it.

He gives Cal a larger portion than what's a normal serving size, and Cal eagerly digs in, closing his eyes in satisfaction after the first bite. "Spirits, I missed your cooking, Greezy money."

Greez chuckles then gives himself a serving, then hops onto his specially made chair. They eat in comfortable silence for a while. Cal seems content, lazy, and eager all at the same time. Sure, the kid thinks he can't stay in one place for long, but now he has something to do here. Greez can't help but be thankful for Zee, more thankful than he's been for any droid in his entire life. He'll be seeing more of Cal for a little while longer.

Before Cal finishes his helping, he pauses, his eyebrows coming together as he chews slowly. Concerned, Greez looks at him, wondering if he accidentally burned some vegetables or something, but Cal swallows and looks at Greez with wide eyes.

"Is that... The Agasar?"

Greez listens, and sure enough, Eseerin Vasahina plays softly in the distance where Greez's old jukebox sits. Cal stands and follows the sound of the music towards the beat down stage. After a second, Greez follows. Cal has this dumb grin on his face, his eyes are closed and his head bops slightly to the thundering drums and screeching violins.

"I thought you didn't like The Agasar," Cal says after a second, opening his eyes to look down at Greez. Stars, the kid is practically beaming.

And yeah, Greez doesn't really care for their music, they're loud and whenever Cal tried to play their music over the Mantis speakers, it always ended up giving Greez a headache.

Greez folds both pairs of arms, trying to not look as proud of himself as he feels. "I'm surprised you don't like them too, considering Sorc Tormo tried to have you mauled to death to the tune of one of their songs."

Cal's grin widens. "Greez, if I had to die to the tune of a song, I would love it to be Sugaan Essana."

"Morbid," Greez says, and Cal laughs.

Greez watches as Cal returns to appreciating the music, something warm settling somewhere in his stomach. Cal may think he can't have a place to call home, but dammit if Greez won't pound into his head that the saloon, at the least, could be. Maybe this mission for Tanalorr will keep Cal around long enough to see that.

For now, Greez will just support Cal where he can. Food, Mantis repairs, a bedroom, and some music.

As Cal uses the back door to leave the saloon while Greez goes with Bode to lock up the front doors, he finds himself content with just that much. Cal probably has no plans to stick around longer than what this Tanalorr mission would allow, but man it's good to have him around even for that long.

He's a good kid, and Greez will cherish his presence while he has it, and make sure Cal understands that here, at Pyloon's Saloon, he will always have a place to return to.

#cal kestis #greez dritus #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #jin writes #fanfiction

25 notes · View notes

feyre-darling92 · 2 years

Text

As it was

Sith!Obi-Wan x female reader.

A/N: I couldn’t help myself writing this, in my opinion sith obi-wan is an interesting alternative to both read and write for. Let me know your thoughts on this.

T/W: Swearing, mentions of death, force choking, bad writing, let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 1,2k

One year.

One year before they had told you he had died on Mustafar.

One year ago you had lost a part of yourself.

You were working at a cantina, a not very well-payed job but you could keep a low profile without causing too many suspicions.

You hadn’t heard of anyone, the only thing that you’d learned was that Anakin had become Darth Vader.

You, Anakin, Obi-Wa, Ashoka and Padme were a family.

First, you lost Ashoka. Leaving the Jedi Order and watching your sister walking away from you not intending to come back was the first hit.

Learning that Anakin had killed all these younglings and had turned to the dark side was the second one.

Seeing Padme giving birth to the twins and sensing her force signature becoming weaker and weaker before she died was the third one.

And learning that Obi-Wan who was sent to fight Anakin and stop him hadn’t returned from Mustafar was the final and strongest hit.

Everything after this is a blur.

All you know was that now you were here, trying to rebuild your life while trying to stay hidden as Anakin was searching for you.

You stayed on Tatooine mostly to take care of the boy but also because it was easier to hide.

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

You woke up, early as always, and got ready to go to work. Before you left you took off the ring Obi-Wan had given you, the best you could do as marriage was against the code, and locked it in the drawer.

You wanted to wear it all the time, have this part of him with you but you couldn’t risk being recognized or robbed.

You opened the cantina, and the day went just as every day was.

There were a couple of fights, you always had to engage in one of them, you served drinks to creatures who flirted with you and got angry or disappointed when they didn’t get a response from you and had to help some drunk customers find the way out because they were obviously too drunk to go on their own.

You returned home exhausted both mentally and physically. It wasn’t unusual, so you did the same thing you did every time.

You sat on the small couch you had, the best you could buy, and started reading. It was your favorite activity and you loved it even more when you did it with Obi-Wan.

You shallowed at the memory and slowly picked up the book from the coffee table. “The beauty and the beast”. It was your favorite, loving it as a kid and loving it even more when you grew up and finally understood the meaning behind this tale.

A couple of hours had passed and you walked to the kitchen to take a glass of water, still reading when you heard a voice you thought you wouldn’t hear again.

“I see you still love this book”

You froze, slowly looking up from the book, afraid to face the hard truth.

“Obi-Wan?” a whisper came out of you after a few seconds.

“It’s me darling” he smiled softly at you and you tried to speak but you couldn’t.

He took a step forward from the counter where he was leaning in and you instinctively stepped back, avoiding closing the distance between you.

“Are you alive?” you said a tear streaming down your face.

“Of course I am, why would you think that I-”

“I was told you died on Mustafar,” you said.

“I would never leave you without saying goodbye, love”

For a moment you thought that things were the same as before. That you’d lie together and wake up the next morning in each other’s arms.

But no. Things were never going to be as they were. Your relationship was never going to be as it was.

“What happened?” your expression suddenly changed and you sounded colder than you’d like but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care.

Because the man who was standing in front of you, the man you’d love was not in him anymore. And his blue eyes you had so much fallen in love with were now replaced with the color of the sith.

A color you’d learn to hate.

“Y/N, you don’t know how much I missed you I-”

“I asked what happened,” you said calmly although on the inside you felt anything but calm.

His face changed, an expression you hadn’t seen in him before. Coldness and darkness were reflected.

He looked at you for a few seconds before he answered you. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

You had changed as well. And it was true.

Being mentally exhausted you allowed no emotions, at least no happy ones.

“I joined the Sith” he simply said not looking you in the eyes as he did back in the days.

“What have you done?” you muttered and backed away, your actions hurting him even more.

He thought that you’d at least be happy to see him.

“I did what I should have done years ago!” he yelled making you flinch. “I saw through the lies of the Jedi. Please listen to me” he lowered his voice seeing your reaction.

You had a shocked expression. “Listen to what exactly? You were fully dedicated to the Jedi. You- you were sent to stop Anakin. They told me that you died!”

“I know, darling but if you listen to me-”

“No!” you couldn’t hold your emotions back any longer.

“Because for one year, one fucking year, I mourned for you, I cried for you. I dropped everything because of the Sith, I lost everything because of the Sith and you come here today as if nothing happened and casually mention that you’re one of them! Where were you, Obi-Wan? Where were you when I needed you the most? You didn’t even care! When you gave me this ring you gave a damn promise and you-” you were cut off by the force choking you.

He was choking you.

“Obi-Wan” you tried to breathe but it was impossible.

He finally let you and you dropped to the ground, air finally filling your lungs.

“Listen to me” he said and you didn’t look up, not wanting to face him anymore.

“I joined them because I could become stronger than ever. I could finally gain power, power the Jedi didn’t allow me to have. I don’t have the Jedi order to forbid me to feel and love. Don’t you see it? I am free now”

“You really believe what are you saying?”

“I do”

“Then the man I loved is truly dead” it came out more like a whisper but he heard it.

He kneeled in front of you and grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him.

He didn’t say anything, he just looked into your eyes, an unreadable expression forming on his face.

“I am not dead, darling. I am reborn. And one day you will see that I am right. Come with me. We can make things as they were. We can live as we did before” he left your chin and caressed your cheek but you immediately pulled away from his touch.

“No, Obi-Wan. We can’t”

Seeing this he got up. “You will join me”

“I will not. And you can’t force me. Because deep down I know that you still love me”

“Come with me. Please”

“You heard me. I am not coming with you”

“This is your last chance, Y/N. Join me or we’ll have to do this the hard way”

At the sound of these words, you got up, ready to fight if you had to.

“I love you, Obi-Wan. I still do. But I will not join you. Not this time”

“I love you too. That’s why you’re coming with me” he said and before you could realize what was happening he waved a hand over your head and everything turned black.

Part 2

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #sith obi wan x reader #sith obi wan #sith!obi wan #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #feyre-darling92 #feyre darling92 #fanfic #fanfiction

148 notes · View notes

telamons · 11 months

Text

it’s just me rambling because i can’t stop thinking about what could happen to cal in the third (and possibly last game, knowing that respawn originally wanted to make the jfo series a trilogy?) but anyway here it goes. spoilers below of course, feel free to interact with this post, i really want to have other people’s theories on that matter.

a few days ago, i was still in the mindset that cal could potentially die at the end of his story. why? well, primarily because as jedi survivor proved it to us, no one within the mantis’ crew is safe from being harmed and/or killed and cal showed us that he seemed to have a death wish more times than i would like to admit. BUT. call it wishful thinking but actually i don’t think he’s gonna die.

you see, whether we’re talking about jedi fallen order or jedi survivor, both games are actually journeys where cal learns. it’s a journey of discovery. in jfo, he learns how to properly use the force (his connection to it being “broken” at the beginning of the game), he learns how to trust people (him being a jedi makes him a target to pretty much everyone he meets), he learns how to accept his former master’s death (amazing cutscene by the way). In jedi survivor, he learns what obsession could lead to (bode and garan being two good examples), he learns how to be in control of the dark side at the end of the game (there’s a big difference with how he fought on nova garon and how he fought bode on tanalorr even though it’s still not perfect).

there’s a scene at the beginning of the game between greez and cal that i feel is extremely important, and people are sleeping on it. cal sleeps at pyloon’s saloon and they have this big conversation where greez tells him to just rest, stop fighting and settle to find a home because if he goes on like this, he’ll end up losing something important. to which cal replies that if he stops fighting then it will be like he gives up on all the people that have died so he could live. greez drops the subject, knowing he won’t make him change his mind even though cal told him he’ll think about what he said.

at no one’s surprise, cal keeps fighting all the way through even though he’s starting to realize that his obsession with the empire is anything but safe for him. as greez predicted earlier, he does end up losing someone very dear to him (aka cere) near the end of the game and for a short period of time, cal ends up almost losing himself in hate and anger and almost lets the dark side take over. good thing for him though, merrin’s here to support him and talk him out of it and he finally realizes that the way he lives is no way to live. during the ending, cal promises cere he still won’t give up the fight (for now) but he’s more in peace with himself than he used to be. killing him would basically do more damage to his character/persona than just kill the character “physically” because it would mean that all the knowledge he gained throughout jfo/js would have been for nothing.

remember when i said that that particular conversation in pyloon’s saloon between cal and greez was very important? because i actually think that greez represents what cal is meant to become while the cal we see at this moment is the present cal, who’s mentally broken. they’re just two sides of his personality that clash during this cutscene, i’m 99% sure that cal actually doesn’t want to fight, but he feels like he has to, for all the people that he lost over the years and i hope that the third game would help him realize that okay, it’s a good reason to fight but him being dead won’t settle anything. we talk a lot about his ptsd after surviving order 66 and more specifically his survivor’s guilt that makes him restless (he won’t stop running because he doesn’t want to think, he’s scared to be alone with his thoughts, we even have proof that he has nightmares when sleeping, so you won’t change my mind about that), but i think we’re all missing the point here: i do honestly think he hates himself and for as long as he doesn’t overcome this hate (mostly through fighting the darkness/dark side) and just accept his past, he won’t be able to move on to the person he’s supposed to become and get the happy ending he deserves.

#star wars #jedi survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #cal kestis #please don't let this post die i really need to know what people think #i have too many thoughts those aren't even half of what i wanted to say but this will have to suffice

45 notes · View notes

imogenkol · 11 months

Text

— WIP SUNDAY

tagged by @inafieldofdaisies and @detectivelokis thank you!!

no pressure tags (and also tagging from the wip wednesday I missed last week! Sorry for any double tags too!): @marivenah @socially-awkward-skeleton @jinfromyarikawa @voidika @aceghosts @simonxriley @nokstella @risingsh0t @corvosattano @shegetsburned @shellibisshe @roofgeese @adelaidedrubman @sstewyhosseini @florbelles @jacobseed @jackiesarch @minaharkers @indorilnerevarine @chuckhansen @queennymeria @shadowglens + anyone else who wants to share a wip!

been loosely working on some post murder attempt confrontation lately

Luthen stood before them and appeared unbothered by the presence of Imogen. She hadn’t quite pegged him for a fool at first. Even in the moment she realized his betrayal, she wondered what grander scheme he had in play. Now at the sight of his true arrogance, she was not so sure that Luthen’s intelligence was up to par. It made her feel annoyed at herself for not coming to that conclusion sooner.

Oh well. She would make him sorely regret his egotistical motivations.

In the span of an instant, Imogen ignited her saber and lunged in a full swing. She stopped her attack mere inches from hitting its mark and expected to see something in Luthen crack.

He remained unfazed and held her furious glare. “What will it be?”

“Imogen,” Bix warned. Her hand cautiously reached out like how she might soothe a cornered predator. “Let’s just leave.”

“This coward attempted to have me killed,” Imogen said calmly, the words dripping with malice. “He tried to take me from you.”

The aura of her crimson plasma blade hovered so close to Luthen’s neck that his skin started to singe. He did not flinch – did not so much as blink. “Do you know why?” he asked.

Imogen had every mind to strike him down. To cause a fear that ran within him so deep that it finally shattered his steadfast composure. Or more simply, to get even. “Enlighten me.”

“This rebellion needs heroes,” Luthen explained, his tone methodical. “And do you know what makes a hero? Someone who is willing to sacrifice everything for the cause, not just their decency. You are not a hero, you are a broken tool from a lost time. I used you until you were useless to me and I tried to kill you because I knew you would never let go of your impulsive need for control. The Empire still has roots in you, Imogen. That is something I cannot allow into this alliance.”

Strangely, her first thought drifted to Cal Kestis. The two of them would have become weapons disguised as peacekeepers for the Republic had the Order not fallen. Even after the destruction, they clung to the conditioning of their childhood – albeit in dramatically different ways. And yet, after all this time, they both had developed into something more than just broken tools without purpose. If the Empire still had roots in her, then the Jedi must have as well.

She glanced at Bix, who stared the older man down with an edge that burned as intensely as the saber. Hardly anyone believed Imogen possessed the capacity for change. In fact, no one besides her did. But the way Imogen’s chest seized every time she looked at her mechanic was proof that she could.

Imogen switched her lightsaber off. “What if I were to prove you wrong?”

The hint of a smile flashed across Luthen’s face. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

#my writing #oc insp: imogen kol #i just *clenches fist* really think her dynamic with luthen is one of the most integral parts in her character development actually #they are mirrors of each other #lowkey a big reason why they wanna kill each other #and her and cal are two sides of the same coin #also why she wanted to torment his ass too #and she slowly comes to the realization that the most powerful thing she can do is prove people wrong and BE someone they don't expect #and also of course... to love #just *goes insane*

24 notes · View notes

scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

Note

How bout Obi wan and fem!reader waking up super early before anyone else wakes up in the temple and they go eat breakfast at Dex's Diner (maybe have Dex in story saying hi and how cute they are???). Maybe they both decide to sneak up to the top of the jedi temple afterwards and watch the sunrise and it's all fluffy. After that Anakin catches them going back to their rooms which is next to each others, to pretend they just woke up, and he teases them.

Lovers

---

Pairing: Obi wan x reader

Word count: 1200

Warnings: none

---

“Come on, now’s our chance.”, you nudge him but his hand tightened around your waist pulling you closer beneath the sheets, his beard grazing the top of your bare shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck. “Dex will be putting out the special breakfast spread and I need to have it.”, you wiggle and he grumbles. “I’ll make you breakfast now stay still.”, He adjusts to fit the shape of your body. “And it won’t be nearly as good as Dex’s.”, to this accusation he chuckled softly, his eyes still closed. He finally sighed, “Fine, we’ll go.”, he shifted and you got out of his hold.

His hair was a mess, his eyes were half open as he groggily threw on a shirt and a pant. You threw on some comfortable clothes and exited the apartment making sure no one else had spotted you. The diner had no one in it, making you the first customers of the day at such early hours. Dex was glad to meet Obi wan again and even before you could order, he set to make a chef’s special breakfast platter. Obi wan shared the waffles with you after which he settled with his hot cup of caf. The food was a delight but it was the way he was looking at you. His sleepy face nodding and observing your expressions with such soft delight. You were looking out to see occasional speeders pass by when you felt his warm hand envelope yours. “There’s a place I want to show you.”, he spoke softly somewhere in between being awake and being sleepy.

He snuck you through the hallways till you reached the exit to the roof spaces, your hand held in his making you feel safe and protected that no matter what, he was there for you. “I didn’t know general Kenobi liked breaking rules.”, you tell him as he picks the lock. “I’m trying to be a good example for Anakin.”, he explains. “And yet he’s turning out to be more like you everyday.”, you fold your arms but he smiles proudly over your comment. The lock clicks and the door handle swings freely, opening which you entered a stairway. Soft light poured in through the vents as he led you up the stairs. “Have you shared this with all your lady friends?”, you ask in a teasing tone but his response only held sincerity in it. “No, I had reserved this spot for lovers alone.”, he found another door, golden light seeping through it’s cracks, he unlocked it and you walked through.

It was like a dream, high above the city, peach clouds and golden light illuminating the sky, waking up a sleeping Coruscant. The terrace was bare but the view was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You perched yourself on a fire escape ledge and he took a seat next to you. Nothing much was said, you both shared your comfortable silence with each other. You waited to see the sun rise higher, the sky change colour from bronze to blue, just like the colour of his eyes. No one was around and you did not need to fear about being spotted. In this little corner of the Galaxy, you and him were just two people who had fallen deeply in love.

You turn to look at him but his eyes were on you. “You’re missing out on the view.”, you grin shyly and look away. “The sunrise cannot compare to the sight I get to behold.”, he whispers leaning in to kiss your cheek. Your cheeks burn in the soft sunlight and his warmth, “I don’t want to go back.”, you sulk remembering the long day you were going to have. “Then it does not have to end yet.”, he smiles softly, his face had no trace of sleep, he looked ethereal in the morning sun. His thumb traced the edge of your jaw as he found your gaze but then it feel to your lips. He leaned closer, his warm breath cascaded over your cheeks as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “One for good luck.”, he whispered like he was reciting a prayer. You stroked his cheek and kissed the top of it. “Two for courage.”, you smile and he pulls you closer, your hands rests on his chest that rose and fell gently. His lips touch yours, soft and slow. “Three for all eternity.”, his lips whisper against yours, a solemn oath he abided by. It was time. He let you go reluctantly and it took every fiber of your being to move away but the day awaited you both.

Sneaking back to your respective apartments so no one could notice that you had been together seemed quite difficult as people were beginning to wake up. But when you turn the corner, you slam into his back as he freezes in place and then quickly shuffles you behinds as he hides. “What is it?”, you ask and he turns to you with a finger on his lip gesturing you to keep quite. “It’s Anakin. He’s waiting outside in the corridor.”, he states and you feel nervous.

“I’ll go first and distract him. It will give you enough time to sneak into your room.”, he instructs and you agree on it. You watch as he walks towards his Padawan and a few seconds later get engrossed in conversation. You make your break for it as a crowd passes by and reach your doorstep. They were right behind you, Anakin arguing about something while you focused on fitting the key into the key hole. But you overheard a certain snippet of the conversation. “Why do you keep looking over my shoulder?” Anakin questions and you freeze, the door wasn’t opening, it’s hinges a little jammed. But it was no use, Anakin called out your name. So you turn to see the mischievous grin on his face.

“What a coincidence.”, his eyes narrow, his mind putting two and two together. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”, he reaches out to shake your hand and you oblige. “It’s funny that both your hands smell of Dax’s donuts.”, you look straight at Obi wan who was shocked as well.

“I snuck in an early breakfast.”, you respond and he nods with clarity. “Then Obi wan must be starving, he has to join me for breakfast before the council meeting.”, he looks back at his master knowing well enough what he was playing at. “I’ve rather lost my appetite this morning, Anakin.”, he responds looking for a way to get out. Anakin grins like a wild cat. “Oh I see.”, he folds his arms. “Then in order to have me be quiet about this- he gestures between you and Obi wan, “I will take a token of freshly baked donuts from Dex to keep this secret.”, he cocks his eyebrow at Obi wan, who sighs running a hand over his face. “Fine.”, he mumbles and his Padawan takes his leave with a spring in his step.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?”, you worry but he leans on his doorframe on the opposite side. “Nothing we can’t handle.”, he smiles. “So then no more sunrises?”, you ask and he nods. You feel a frown forming, so you turn away to shove your door open. “I was thinking of stargazing.”, he adds and you pause right at the threshold of your suite. You smile over your shoulder which he accepts as an answer and with one last parting glace, you close the door behind you and embrace the new day, while your mind was already lost thinking about the night sky.

#obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #obi wan my beloved #general kenobi #master kenobi #kenobi series #kenobi tv #obi wan imagine #obi wan x reader #obiwan x fluff #obiwan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x you

84 notes · View notes

arctrooper69 · 1 year

Text

Jedi Come Down

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS

In the aftermath of Order 66 and Anakin's supposed death, Obi-Wan struggles with his feelings of guilt.

WARNINGS: PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING. Viewer discretion advised. This is a bit darker than my usual fics. S*icidal ideation. Self blame. Survivors guilt. Major angst with a some comfort towards the end. I'm here once again to make you feel things (Sorry, not sorry😂).

A/N: I had a lot of thoughts and feelings after re-watching tcw. Song that inspired this fic here.

BY CONTINUING, YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THAT YOU'VE READ THE WARNINGS ABOVE

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

He had never felt pain like this. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and mind-numbing. It weighed on his chest, so heavy that he wondered if it might physically kill him. In a matter of days - no, in a matter of hours, the great Obi-Wan Kenobi had gone from High Jedi General of the Grand Army of the Republic to a homeless, broken fugitive. How far he had fallen.

Pathetic. Coward.

He sat on the ledge of a rocky cliff overlooking the miles of sand that stretched out endlessly leading away from the busy streets of Mos Eisley; an empty spotchka bottle dangled from his fingers. He let out a gruff, humorless chuckle. So it had come to this - a Jedi Master losing himself to the bottle. So uncivilized. So unbecoming.

So weak.

You are stronger than this, a small voice scolded him from the back of his mind. For some reason it sounded like Cody. Get up, General. You have mission to accomplish.

Obi-Wan chuckled dryly. Cody was probably dead just like everyone else. That, or a brainwashed slave to the newly risen Empire. If those were the choices, Obi-Wan hoped he was dead.

You should jump, another inner voice prodded him, louder this time and in the lilt of his own voice. There's no point anymore.

Maybe the thought carried some truth. There was no more Republic to fight for and no more Jedi to defend the weak.

It's hard to be the ones who survive, General, came Cody's voice again. Don't give up. Don't give in. If you do that, the enemy wins.

Obi-Wan sighed, exhausted. Drained. It wasn't the first time that he'd seen ghosts. He used to feel them all the time as whispers in the Force like sighs on the wind. They were whispers of a peaceful wisdom to his innate hunger for justice. There had been a time when he was open to it - receptive to whatever the Force would teach him, or whatever it would reveal to him. Master Yoda taught patient, practiced meditation, and under his tutelage, Obi-Wan grew in both strength and wisdom. Master Qui-Gon taught him that a quiet spirit revealed much through the Force. Through their teaching and careful training, he found courage in the voices of the Force as he fought.

Now all Obi-Wan could hear was silence.

"I hate you!" screamed Anakin. The anguished cries still lingered in his ears. They haunted his dreams and he knew they would do so for the rest of his life.

"I hate you!" This time it was his own voice that echoed Anakin's cries, mocking him.

Vader. Obi-Wan reminded himself. Vader. Not Anakin. Anakin was dead and had been for some time - even before that final confrontation. He cursed himself often for it. How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed his pain? His anger? His suffering? A Master was supposed to protect his charge, to be in tune with their emotions, to offer them reassurance, and to guide them down the right path. Obi-Wan had failed at all of those things and Anakin was dead because of it. Vader had killed him slowly and Obi-Wan let it happen. He could see it now, through past eyes. Hindsight was always clearer. Anakin had always struggled with both his past and his future. He wore his emotions plainly and visibly through his actions. Though Anakin's struggle between light and dark had become visibly apparent on Mortis, something deep within Obi-Wan knew that it had not emanated there nor had it left him after.

A life of ever-present conflict left Anakin vulnerable, emotional, and raw. Master Yoda had seen that from the beginning, yet it had been Obi-Wan's selfish desire to fulfill a dying wish that brought the boy into the life of a Jedi; a life that would eventually lead to the best times of Obi-Wan's own life but also to the worst.

You were my brother Anakin, I loved you!

It was a bond of brotherhood that united the master and apprentice. Friendship forged and strengthened through the heat of battle. He'd seen it happen again and again throughout the war. Not only within the Jedi, but the galaxy as a whole. War bound people together in a way that little else could. Together, with Ashoka, Rex, and Cody, Anakin and Obi-Wan made a team - and a damn good one at that. The thought brought tears to his eyes. He huffed derisively, isn't it ironic? The only thing that cut through the numbness enveloping him was grief, and even that felt clouded.

Maybe they were right. I am a traitor. The images of bodies littering the temple floor flashed behind his eyes. They were younglings. Children. They didn't deserve this. They didn't deserve to die.

***

"Master Kenobi..." a weak voice called out to him, cutting through the icy wall of horror engulfing the whole of him. He looked down at the voice only a few feet ahead of him. A youngling. Mortally wounded, barely clinging to life. Her force signature was faint, almost non-existent. He fell to his knees beside her. She didn't say anything else. Her agonal breaths came in shuddering bursts, each one weaker than the last. "I'm here," he whispered. "It's going to be okay." He held onto her small hand until the breathing stilled and her eyes glazed over. It had only been a few minutes but to Obi-Wan it felt like hours.

***

She was only four. How could a four year old be a traitor of anything?

Guilt weighed on his chest, filling his lungs. He choked.

You didn't do it, General. Cody spoke again in his head. There's no point blaming yourself. There was nothing more you could have done.

Obi-Wan knew he was right, but why did it hurt so much?

You still have your mission, sir. Cody's voice sounded smaller, almost pleading.

Remember your mission. The twins need you.

Obi-Wan kicked at the rocks by his dangling feet, watching mindlessly as they tumbled down to the sand far below, clacking together and breaking apart as they bounced off the side of the cliff.

They're better off without you. Without your failure. You could have done so much more. You should have been paying better attention to the world around you. You're so selfish. If you'd only been more in tune with the Force. If only you'd been better at meditating, you would've seen this coming. This is your fault. It's all on you. Just jump. It's what you deserve.

Obi-Wan released his grip on the empty bottle and watched it fall.

General no! Cody's voice sounded much quieter this time. Begging. Weak. The sound of shattering glass pierced his ears as the bottle hit the bottom. Perhaps that's quite literally the definition of hitting rock bottom, he thought. The setting twin suns reflected off of the broken pieces of the smashed bottle, sending an array of oranges and reds onto the side of the cliff. It was morbidly beautiful. Obi-Wan shuddered and tore his gaze from the rocky sand below.

No.

He couldn't. It wasn't right.

See! His inner voice taunted, You're weak. You can't even die bravely.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuttering breath.

No.

He couldn't. Not while the twins still needed him. They represented hope for an eventual end to the evils of the Empire. Master Yoda himself had said as much. Obi-Wan didn't feel hopeful right now, but refusing to give in was a good first step.

There you are, General. Cody spoke again, his voice sounded clearer now. That's good. Now stand up. Get on your feet.

In his drunken state, it seemed to Obi-Wan that he'd left his body; for a second it felt like he was just a simple bystander, watching himself from afar. Cody was standing there, holding out his hand. The Jedi hesitated for a moment and then grasped it. The Marshal Commander pulled him to his feet.

Obi-Wan stumbled to his feet. To the untrained eye it seemed that his hand which had so precariously held the bottle earlier was now grasping on nothing but air. But to Obi-Wan, he was grasping onto hope.

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

A/N: Friends, if you're ever feeling depressed or s*icidal or even just feeling low, please don't hesitate to ask for help. I know it's hard and it can be scary, but there are people who love you. (And if nothing else, I love you!) You are so loved! Don't give up on yourself. Your favorite characters wouldn't want you to do that.

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @sadspring

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

103 notes · View notes

wonderwhump · 1 year

Text

wonderwhump / november_1 fanfiction list

Hi guy's I hope you're all doing fine :)

This is a list of my fanfics. I'm a huge fan of reading and also writing fanfiction of all kinds of fandoms. My AO3 name is november_1.

If you like, check my them out. They are all whump stories with various degrees of emotional and physical whump. If anything triggers you, please check out the tags before reading.

I'm happy about any feedback you might give me. Kudos and comments make my day (yeah, I'm desperate and attention seeking 🤣 But aren't all writers...)

I will add to this list as I write more stories.

FANDOM: Jedi Fallen Order / Star Wars

Endings and Beginnings

An explosion on Bracca and Cal and Prauf are in the thick of it. Hurt and comfort ensue…

FANDOM: Lockwood & Co.

The dread of undying love

Lucy had been keeping a close eye on Lockwood for days. Something was off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yet. He was quiet. And pale. Big dark circles under his eyes. She knew something was wrong, but he didn’t talk about it. Of course he didn’t.

Will Lucy and George find out what's going on and be able to help their friend before it's too late?

A Lockwood & Co whump story with lots of angst and pain but also friendship and some undeniable more-than-friends-tension between Lockwood and Lucy.

FANDOM: Chicago PD / Chicago Med

The wrong son

A party. An argument. A car crash. And a dead brother...

Lots of angst and emotional whump for a young Jay Halstead.

Survivor

"What are you supposed to do when somebody calls you out of the blue one beautiful summer evening and tells you, that your husband is missing?"

This story is set some months after 10x3. Jay and his team are captured on a mission in Bolivia. What will happen to them? Will they get out alive?

Brothers

Jay and Will Halstead take a car trip together. It doesn't go that well...

I'll give it to someone special

Jay is out Christmas shopping. But the day doesn't go as planned.

Into the abyss

They find Jay in his apartment, unconscious, unresponsive... dying. Pills and alcohol. A suicide attempt obviously. But was it really?

A week of bad luck

It was one of those days you wish you just hadn’t gotten up at all. That you’d just have turned over in bed, pulled up the sheets over your head and ignored the world out there. It had been a whole week of those days for Jay Halstead and he desperately wished to be able to crawl back into the safety of his comfy bed and hide from the world.

But the world had some more bad luck from him in store.

Life and Death and Baseball

Jay gets injured during a Baseball game. But that's just the beginning and the day gets from bad to worse rather unexpectedly.

Camping is fuckin' dangerous, man!

Jay stumbles into the bullpen and collapses to the ground unconscious. He's seriously injured and drugged up to his eyeballs. Everybody thought he was out in the woods camping and fishing for the last week... But did he even get there? What happened to Jay and who did this to him?!

The bar fight

A good looking stranger steps in to protect a woman in a bar.

Sacrifice

It was Jay's fault that they were in this mess. Now he'd do anything to protect his unit. Even if it meant torture and death...

Pain & Purpose

"The mornings were the worst. The nights were pretty bad too, to be honest. But the mornings made him feel so lost, like he had forfeited the grip on the world. Like the world, and Jay in it, had lost all meaning."

Jay Halstead is a broken man - physically and mentally - when he returns from the war in Afghanistan as the only survivor of his unit. How will he deal with the pain and the trauma?

Remember me

Hailey is 37 weeks pregnant and she and Jay are excited and happy to be parents soon. But one day they are kidnapped right off the street... and suddenly happiness turns into fear, pain, suffering and despair... What will happen to Jay and Hailey and their unborn baby girl? Will they survive this dire situation unscathed?

Beautiful day gone south

The blood felt warm and sticky. It gushed out between her fingers and colored her hands in bright red. She pressed down as hard as she could and he groaned. But how ever hard she pressed down on the wounds, the blood kept on flowing. With every passing second, with every drop of blood, she could feel the life leaving him.

Burning up

Jay knew he was getting a cold. He had been feeling off for the last couple of days: sore throat, beginning cough, headaches, maybe even a fever. But he just ignored it. It would pass. He didn’t have time for a common cold, no time for feeling like shit. And just for the record: Halsteads didn’t get ill. End of discussion.

Shaken

"There was a sharp jolt and then the earth started shaking. From one second to the next the lovely sunny day turned into chaos and destruction."

Will and Jay Halstead are in Los Angeles visiting their friend Connor Rhodes who moved there a year ago to work at UCLA. It was supposed to be a vacation! A little escape from Chicago with sun, beach, fun and drinks. But somehow everything turns out quite differently when an earthquake hits the city and Will and Jay are buried under tons of debris.

Trust and betrayal

Connor's day starts out perfect - until he is wrongfully accused of sexually assaulting a young woman. Suddenly everybody hates him, nobody believes in his innocence, he is suspended and arrested. Who is this woman that accused him of raping her? And what kind of game is she playing? Will Connor be found innocent or stumble deeper and deeper into this mess?

It should have been me

Terry's death hit Jay really hard. It triggers his PTSD and he's spiraling down. But before he can hit rock bottom, somebody from Jay's past turns up and something even worse happens. Something that Jay and his brother Will may not get out of alive...

This story is set right after 3x17.

Shallow waters

If anybody had told Jay that morning that he would drown in thigh deep water in the middle of Chicago, he would have laughed. But right now, he didn’t feel like laughing as the water swashed over his mouth.

FANDOM: Seal Team

Broken

Brock’s last conscious thought was „Oh, fuck – that was it!”. He didn’t feel the shuddering of his body when it impacted with ground. Didn’t feel the bones splintering. Didn’t feel his limbs go slack. He didn’t feel the blood seeping from his nose and head wound, forming a little pool on the forest floor. He also didn’t hear his brother’s screaming. Didn’t hear Cerberus whining.

Wake up, sleeping beauty!

Clay still lay on his side, as he had before, eyes closed and fast asleep. He looked pale. Stella crouched down in front of him smiling, gently stroking his hair. “Hey, wake up, sleeping beauty.” She kissed him, first on his forehead, then on his lips. He didn’t move. Why didn’t he move?

Clay just doesn't wake up the morning after they came home from deployment in Afghanistan. What happened? Will he be ok?

Cold as ice

Sonny Quinn’s right leg was on fire. Well, obviously not literally, as he was lying on his back on the icy ground - in the snow of a dense larch forest. He was sure the leg was broken. He had sneaked a peak down his leg – and no leg should ever be bent in such an angle. But that wasn’t his top concern at the moment. Clay, his best friend, lay about 5 meters from him, his body curled around the tree trunk that had broken his fall down the steep slope - as if he was hugging it. Lifeless.

Too much blood

Brock felt something impact with the back of his head. Hard. His head, and with it his whole body, flew forward and stars exploded in front of his eyes.

Brock is mugged on his way home from the bar.

FANDOM: Six

8 weeks later

Did you ever wonder what happened to Joe "Bear" Graves and his team after the show's last episode (S2E10)? This is my take on that story never told...

Joe „Bear“ Graves was in pain. 8 weeks since the day that had shattered his life to pieces. 8 weeks since the day he had destroyed the life of the people he loved. But now it would be over soon.

46 notes · View notes

knightprincess · 1 year

Text

Forgive Me (Echo x Fem! Medic Reader) Part 3

Words: 2.3k Warning: None

:readmore:

As instructed (Y/N) had arrived at the military base the night before she was set to be deployed. Like many to visit the base, she'd been mesmerized by the memorial to the thousands of fallen troopers. She took notice of the little details, how carefully each name had been carved into the stone, even which legion they'd fought with, if they did. Those who hadn't just had their names carved into the wall. The latest ones still had wet paint from where someone had carefully painted over the names, in order for them to stand out like the rest. (Y/N) carefully mouthed the names. Hevy, Cutup and Droidbait. With a shiver down her spine (Y/N) continued to walk towards the base, noticing a security team roaming around, she hadn't been surprised when one of the troopers with red markings on the otherwise stainless armor asked her for identification. Commander Thorn was his name.

He politely made light conversation with her, as he lead her inside the base. He hadn't been surprised by her arrival, instead commenting they'd been patiently waiting, even mentioning there were a few yet to arrive. By the time they passed through the thick blast doors leading inside, they'd built up a friendship. The moment (Y/N) entered the large base, she took notice how cold it was inside, the halls warmly light, but the walls almost feeling like that of a prison, she was hit with a feeling of being trapped. The security booth clearly showing the highest priority in safety had been taken, although there was a question if the security was meant to keep something in or civilians out. Silence took over as (Y/N) walked down the maze of halls, she couldn't help but notice how all seemed the same, as if someone had simply copied and pasted the design over and over again. The same stainless doors, the same noisy grated floors.

"Miss (Y/L/N)" came a calming voice from behind her. (Y/N) had quickly whirled around, her eyes widening with shock. A hand flew up to her chest in an attempt to calm her pounding heart. She soon looked to the owner of the calm voice, seeing a Kel Dor, by his robes it was a clear he was a Jedi, the lightsaber attached to his utility belt also offering evidence to her assumption. "Apologies little one. I am Plo Koon, the Jedi General you'll be serving with" added the Jedi, seeing the confusion pass over her features. She soon reached for the datapad in her side bag, trying to find the information she had been given. Plo Koon quickly realized she hadn't been made aware of changes.

"Sorry for the confusion. I wasn't expecting to deploy until tomorrow" quickly explained (Y/N), a respectful tone flooding her voice, as she tried to hide her admiration for the Jedi General, she'd always been curious about those whom took up residency in the Temple, the peacekeepers whom now fought for the republic in the war. Soon enough a wave of embarrassment washed over the medic, suddenly unsure of everything. She hated being late for things, she hated being disorganized even more. Apparently now she was both, likely late for departing, and rather disorganized, even more so when she'd not been aware of the changes made.

"Worry not little one" soothingly replied the Jedi Master, motioning for her to follow him back through the maze of cold prison like halls. "You're quarters have already been prepared" chuckled Plo Koon, recalling how some of his men had taken it upon themselves to ready everything for her arrival. Others had been more reserved due to the past medics assigned to them. The Med-bay had been re-stoked, much like Wolffe in particular had taken it upon himself to read up on her, even more so with the last minute change. "You'll be on rotating between several legions. With each one for a period of time before transferring to another" calmly explained the Jedi Master, recalling his own legion had been given priority due not having a medic of their own. Most the time they relied on the basic training they had been given as cadets, otherwise relying on their instincts. Most of the time it did the trick, but other times the method had devastating results. Previous medics hadn't been able to handle the pace, while others were more than happy to disembark at the earliest opportunity.

(Y/N) nodded behind General Plo, her breath catching in her throat the moment the Venator Class Star Destroyer come into view. She'd bared witness to many of them coming and going, always from a distance. Now she was up close to one, her amazement took over. The ships were basically a small flying city. Each with its own little details one would only notice if close enough. General Plo waited for her astonishment to wash over, before continuing with the last leg of the journey, to board the cruiser known as the Triumphant.

Upon entering the large cruiser, a sense of home washed over (Y/N), the halls were warm and welcoming. The opposite to what the military base had been. Troopers in both casual clothing and armor roamed the halls, a few droids here and there offering a few beeps as the pair passed by. Before (Y/N) knew they had entered the bridge, it being clear those there had been prepared for their next mission somewhere across the galaxy. It being obvious the only thing they'd be waiting for, was her arrival and the return of their Jedi General.

The take off as to be expected was rough. For (Y/N) whom had never left Coruscant before certainly knew it. She could feel the thunderous vibrations from the engines through dark floors beneath her feet. The initial thrust towards the busy skies had almost knocked her off her feet, lucky for her someone had caught her before she'd fallen backwards. Gently placing her upright and keeping a light hold on her upper arm to ensure she wouldn't tumble over again. A small chuckle escaping the trooper once the ship had evened out, and he was sure she'd wouldn't tumble over again.

"Thank you ...: started (Y/N), politeness and respect flooding her voice as she turned her attention to the trooper. He seemed almost taken aback by her thanks. Almost as if the idea of a civilian doing as such was foreign to him, something (Y/N) quickly realized would have be something she had to get used to, as well helped them come to terms with the idea. After all she was there to help them when they needed it most. Not just because that was her job, but to show her gratitude and appreciation for their sacrifices they made to protect so many. A thankless job, especially when so many wrongly thought of clones as expendable.

"Boost" added the trooper, offering a salute. He''d retrieved his helmet now, holding it to his side beneath his arm. On his lips was a friendly smile, as if he recognized her and wanted to help welcome her aboard and into the wolf pack. "General Plo said you be joining us, although he neglected to mention you're an angel" added Boost, a flirtatious tone in his voice, mixing with confidence. (Y/N) offered a sweet smile at the compliment, a chuckle escaping her to see another off to the side dramatically roll his eyes. Boost must have noticed her eyes flick off to the side, his attention fleeting over only to offer a salute to the other trooper.

"Commander Wolffe, please give our medic the tour" commented General Plo, once again softness to his voice. The feeling of family washing over (Y/N), just as the respectful nod Wolffe sent Plo's way didn't go unnoticed, nor the playful tone of Boost comment to follow. Even if it did only serve to pull another eye roll from the battle worn commander.

"Are you ready for this?" asked Wolffe, concern ringing through his gruff voice. Although he didn't turn his attention to (Y/N), she was aware he meant the reality of war rather than tour of the large cruiser. "It cruel out there, the missions we're sent on are highly dangerous. Injuries are devastating to say the least. Are you sure you can handle that?" again asked the commander, the same concern running through his voice. As if he was trying to protect her from the trauma likely to come, and ensure she knew there was nothing romantic about the battlefield.

"I appreciate your concern Commander, but I knew what I was getting myself into when I applied for this" replied (Y/N), confidence in her voice, as she iterated she knew none of what was to come would be easy. Some days would harder than others, she'd always face the inevitability of not being able to save everyone, even if she did give it her best shot. She'd lose those she'd hopefully come to call friends. "From what I can gather you boys need me. I'm happy to take every risk there is, if it means all of you get the care needed" added (Y/N), a rebellious streak rising in her, as the words left her lips. Wolffe seemed at least satisfied with her answer, offering a nod and continuing to lead the way. (Y/N) wasn't sure when but the pair had stopped in the middle of the corridor at some point.

"You could get hurt" commented Wolffe, this time turning his attention to her as if to gauge her reaction.

"I'm not made of glass" quickly responded (Y/N), surprising even herself by the quick wit and response. Wolffe merely offered a chuckle, almost as if the answer had been one he'd hoped to receive. His doubts General Plo had chosen the right medic slowly fading. Sure she looked fragile but her words were proving otherwise. He only hoped her actions would too.

"Looks like you've gain a following, Snap" casually spoke the Commander, slipping the nickname in. Although he hadn't meant it to slip passed his lips. (Y/N) only offered a small laugh at the name. Suspecting he'd likely read over her file in order to get a idea of what she was like, that alone suggesting he and likely many others knew she was skilled and knew her way around a med bay, she had prior training so hadn't applied for the GAR role just the hell of it. Instead she was serious and determined, maybe even a bit stubborn.

"Snap" repeated (Y/N), as she come to a stop outside the medbay door, Wolffe just in front of her. "Can't say I've been called that before" commented the medic, before entering the medbay that would serve as her temporary office. At least until her rotation with the 104th Legion come to an end, and she joined the next one. Wolffe followed along behind, leaning against the door frame, surveying as she ensured everything was present, from the simple things of bandages and bacta, to the more delicate equipment, such as the things needed to maintain cybernetics, both big and small. As soon as (Y/N) had deemed the small medbay as adequate, she once again followed Wolffe, making a note to memorize where things were.

"From what I've read you can make quick decisions and your display of wit just then ..." began the Commander, in an attempt to explain what he deemed as a misstep, after all they barely knew each. The sound of soft laughter at his side, stop him in his tracks, the smaller woman with a gentle smile on her lips. Wolffe soon turned his attention back ahead, only now realizing she hadn't back away in fear, nor stared uncomfortably long at his cybernetic eye and disfiguring scar. Instead she treated him with kindness and respect, a rare thing to come across. "My scar and eye don't scare you?" calmly asked Wolffe, not being able to stop the curiosity rising, every other medic to pass through had been weary of him, avoiding as much as possible. Each of them couldn't have left quick enough and all of them seemed to judge him by his commanding nature and rough outer shell rather than whom he was as a person.

"What's to be scared of?" simply responded (Y/N), looking to Wolffe with a certain expectation. "I see, others before me have judged you by it" sadly commented the medic, feeling her heart sink to know others meant to offer medical aid had also cause unseen damage too. Whether they knew it or not. "I wont judge you for your past, nor by your appearance. I'd hope you'd do me the same and not judge me by the actions of those who come before" requested (Y/N), the same kindness from before returning, just as respect flooded her voice one more.

One again Wolffe stopped, this time in front of a simple, yet plain grey metal door. This one leading to (Y/N) personal quarters. The commander turned away, focusing his attention of his brothers walking down the corridor, each of them engrossed in something, whether that be a conversation about their latest mission or trip to 79's, or just determination to get to the bridge in order to listen to Plo as he informed them of changes made. Including the unexpected but welcome change of having (Y/N) aboard instead of their originally assigned medic, who had been re-assigned to the 212th.

"Get some rest Snap" commented Wolffe, the moment the door made the familiar hissing noise. Signalling the correct combination of numbers had been entered.

"Is that an order" quipped (Y/N), seeing what she believed was the smallest of smirks appear on Wolffe's sturdy lips. Mere seconds later she followed her words up with a simple but well meaning salute, receiving a nod from Wolffe in return, at least before he headed down the hall to his own quarters.

Masterlist

#echo x medic reader #forgive me (echo x medic reader)#part 3 #fem! medic reader #medic reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #star wars reader insert #x reader fanfic #reader interactive #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on quotev #Commander Wolffe #tcw boost #plo koon

24 notes · View notes