#so even when obi-wan is trying to push anakin into leaving him by being simply awful and a brat and a menace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samstree · 7 months

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more courageous to overcome

(behold! my first obikin fic :'D, rated G, and it's also on AO3)

The rain makes Anakin soft.

They are in the quietest corner of Tython, the heart of the forest, where the air is cool with condensation. The first raindrop hits the ground, and then another, the steady rhythm morphing into the constant patter against the roof of the cabin.

Everything about Anakin softens when it starts to rain, a sigh releasing from his lungs, his shoulders relaxing as if all weight has been lifted from them. He opens all the windows, letting the wind bring in some of the rain. A cold gust fills the room, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Obi-Wan sits on their bed, a book in his lap. Soon, he finds himself joined by Anakin, long limbs curling around the space next to him, pushing away the book to make room for his head.

Anakin lies down on Obi-Wan’s lap, blinking blearily at the soft patter of rain.

He’s still trying to look out the window despite the sleepiness clear in his features, despite his breaths slowing down. Stubbornly, his eyes fix on the mountains far away, on the misty green that stretches into the clouds.

The sky is grey, but Anakin’s eyes shine with hope. It’s warm in the Force, wrapping around his being and seeping into Obi-Wan’s touch.

Even years after leaving Tatooine, raindrops from the sky are still a sight to be admired. It brings out a side of Anakin that was hidden in childhood, pushed away to survive the harsh realities of life in the desert.

Obi-Wan remembers the first time Anakin saw rain at the age of nine, the padawan braid still fresh by his ear. The wonder in the boy’s eyes was brighter than any sun in the galaxy. He tried to catch every drop of water with his hands, laughing and splashing all the puddles, even though his robe was soaked through.

The wonder doesn’t show as overtly these days, as the boy has grown to be the man that he is today. Underneath the softness in Anakin’s eyes, he is still drawn to the rain, amazed by its existence.

Obi-Wan smiles, threading his fingers through Anakin’s hair. It’s growing long, nearly reaching his nape, softer from the moisture in the air, the curls more pronounced. He keeps playing with it, brushing across Anakin’s hairline patiently until he drifts off reluctantly.

The traces of war fade away when Anakin sleeps, his features relaxed in the soothing sound of rain. The scar across his eye is hidden from the soft curls. When Obi-Wan tries to touch it, Anakin mumbles quietly, a frown forming between his eyes, so he retracts his hand.

They stay there for a long time. Obi-Wan meditates to the steady rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, surrounded by the warm presence of him in the Force. The forest murmurs with stories untold, ancient wisdom lost in time. The mountains are peaceful, serene, and protective of all creatures inhabiting their homes. The green foliage covers every inch of the ground, making the planet hum with life.

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, it is to a gentle nudge in his side. The sky has grown brighter, the downpour slowing to a light shower.

“Why did you let me fall asleep?” Anakin says, voice heavy from sleep. He shifts onto his back so he’s looking at Obi-Wan with bleary eyes. “I meant to listen to the rain.”

Obi-Wan huffs. “It has rained every day since we arrived. It will rain again tomorrow, and every day after.”

It’s the reason they came to the rainforest of Tython in the first place, to find somewhere away from the horrors and simply rest, and Anakin can only rest where there is rain.

But Anakin’s mouth is forming that pout of his, a displeased grumble under his breath. He rolls onto his knees, with arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and face buried in his chest.

“I still want to see it,” he says, voice muffled, before looking up in excitement. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“Anakin…”

Without a pause, Anakin has scrambled out of bed and thrown a cloak in Obi-Wan’s direction, who catches it with an exasperated huff. Obi-Wan doesn’t particularly enjoy getting wet in the rain, but Anakin is already out of the room.

Letting out a quiet curse, Obi-Wan dresses himself quickly to find Anakin by the door, facing the forest outside and its murmuring sounds. He stops in his tracks.

Here Anakin is, reaching out his left hand to catch a droplet in his palm. Even though Obi-Wan cannot see his face, the happiness that fills the Force is unmistakable.

Perhaps, getting a little wet is not the worst thing in the world.

“Let’s go, old man.” Anakin beckons him, looking back at Obi-Wan. His hand is still there, reaching out absently to feel the rain, never realizing he’s kept this habit since childhood. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll just leave you here.”

“No, you won’t. I taught you better than to use empty threats, dear one.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, pulling up his hood to follow Anakin despite the cheeky comments about him being slowed down by age.

With damp moss beneath their feet and the fresh smell of dirt in the air, they trek up a hill side by side. The trail weaves through uneven terrain, the towering trees forming a canopy of dark green. The leaves rustle in the wind as if trying to reveal a secret.

They find each other’s hand somewhere along the way.

The rain has nearly trickled to a stop when they reach the top, the clouds giving way to the first ray of sunlight. The ruin of an ancient Jedi temple sits at the top of the mountain, the broken walls still standing tall after millenniums.

Anakin’s hair is soaked, the curls wild in the mountain wind. He brushes the wet locks back, shaking away the droplets.

“Anakin, stop that.” Obi-Wan blinks when the water flies into his eyes, and it only makes Anakin’s grin wider.

He adjusts Obi-Wan’s hood so he’s shielded from the light drizzle. With their faces only a hand’s breadth away, Obi-Wan stares into those clear blue eyes he no longer knows how to live without.

“There,” Anakin says quietly, eyes crinkling in happiness.

When they are the only two people on a planet like this, away from the pain and destruction of the war, Anakin looks much younger than he ought to be. Obi-Wan keeps forgetting how young he was when the fighting began, how fast he was forced to grow, how young he still is.

The past is in the past. They are simply existing in this moment, healing and resting in the rain.

Anakin turns away to watch the view—the forest that stretches into the horizon, the dramatic rise and fall of the land. The fog lifts from the mountains, letting the sun cast its golden light. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the galaxy, but Obi-Wan cannot find it in himself to care.

He keeps his eyes on Anakin, on the wonder on his face. The Force is balanced with serenity, its ancient power thrumming with an energy that can only be found on the mystical land of Tython.

“Thank you,” Anakin says with an exhale, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“What for?”

The question comes out as light as a breath. Perhaps the rain has a similar effect on Obi-Wan, he reckons, softening everything about him.

“I’m more at peace than I have ever been in this life, Obi-Wan, and it’s because of—well…”

He trails off, but Obi-Wan tries to fill in the silence. “The rain?”

The rain that seeps into every flower, every leaf on this planet. The rain that washes away all the hardened lines on Anakin’s face, lightens all the darkness in his eyes. The rain that is everything good and hopeful in life.

But Anakin shakes his head.

“The rain helps, the mountains too, but there is more,” he says, lifting both of Obi-Wan’s hands and pressing a kiss in his palms. “There is someone.” Anakin leans in, resting their foreheads together, his damp curls brushing against Obi-Wan’s skin. “There is you.”

“Oh.”

The planet carries whispers of lost wisdom and forgotten treasures, of powers from the very beginning of the Jedi. None of it compares to the love that bursts into the Force.

Love is all Obi-Wan feels when they are the only two people in the rain, left alone by the hustling noise of the galaxy. It’s all he feels when he catches Anakin’s hand, the memory of a raindrop still in his palm.

“Dear one,” he answers. “There is also you.”

Their lips meet carefully, gently. Anakin’s cheeks are cool to the touch.

The force hums around them, and Obi-Wan realizes, against all odds, peace has also found its way to his heart.

The rain has stopped, but Obi-Wan tastes it on Anakin’s lips anyway.

#obikin #obikin fic #i don't know how to tag star wars #there's so much fandom in this fandom...

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

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Patience (and Silence) is a Virtue

Summary: In his commitment to restlessness, Anakin discovers something about Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can't let him get away with that, of course.

Anon: Hi I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment but would you consider writing a fic where Obi wan is tickling anakin, maybe where it's during the clone wars and anakin is being restless and teasing Obi wan so he decides to put him in his place?? Or something obviously if you're not taking prompts don't worry! But if you're that would be really cute

Do not tag this as ship. Don't do it.

Anakin had a critical inability to stay still, Obi-Wan noticed. He had become calmer and more focused under his wing, sure, but he was restless to his very core. Other Jedi masters would certainly have found his fidgeting to be a nuisance, something to be expunged--Obi-Wan saw it as human. For the things they’d seen and had to do, a little humanity was very welcome.

Except now, of course.

Anakin paced past Obi-Wan for nearly the twentieth time this hour--he’d been doing laps around the room at a speed that’d put any trooper to shame. Obi-Wan’s attempts at meditation had given him some measure of calm, but inner peace was hard to find with your protégé stomping past you every moment.

“We are wasting time.”

“There’s nothing to be done but wait,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to release his patterned breathing.

“I can’t just sit around.” Anakin switched directions, pacing the other way.

“You are far too eager, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but did not rise.

“And you are far too boring!” He snapped, but it held no real venom. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, dropping his head, and the relaxation promptly left his bones. He stood, brushing himself off, and Anakin watched him tensely.

“Perhaps a bit of sparring would do you some good.” Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and beckoned him closer, already assuming a combat position. Anakin drew his, twirling it idly, and they circled each other.

For all of Anakin’s restlessness, he paid rapt attention in the field. Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in his head as they circled one another, waiting for Anakin to inevitably make the first move.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, sending blue sparks flying into the air around them. One of the strikes set Obi-Wan unexpectedly off-balance and Anakin used the opportunity to press his advantage, crowding in closer to force a surrender. Obi-Wan smirked--he could never resist playing dirty when an opportunity arose--and squeezed Anakin’s side. He yelped, lightsaber flying into the air, and Obi-Wan caught it, sheathed it, and clipped it to his belt. He tried not to look too amused at Anakin’s pinkened face.

“Do you yield?”

“Never.” Anakin smirked, rushing forward. He swung at Obi-Wan and he simply leaned to avoid it, hands tucked primly behind his back. A mistimed strike gave him an opening--he sidestepped and shoved Anakin forward and away.

“Your impatience will cost you if you aren’t careful. Again.” Obi-Wan readied himself as Anakin charged. Of course, he could never make things easy, but if he moved a tad slower to let Anakin get a few hits in? Ah, who’s to say.

Anakin locked Obi-Wan’s arm behind his back and started twisting out another forced surrender. It would’ve worked too, if Anakin’s stance didn’t leave his free hand wide open. Another lesson for another day, perhaps.

Obi-Wan reached back and grabbed at Anakin’s side, but he didn’t let up this time. He felt Anakin’s forehead smack into his back and heard the faint laughter floating up, but it took quite a few stubborn seconds for Anakin to actually let go.

“Excellent work.” Obi-Wan held out the captive lightsaber. Anakin took it gratefully.

“You absolutely cheated.” The silly smile on his face was contagious.

“I prefer calling it ‘alternative strategy’. Either way, you did well.” Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. Now, for my sanity, I implore you to clear your mind. I’m not sure how much more pacing I can take.” Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground, and when his padawan didn’t move, he patted the space next to him until Anakin followed suit.

He could sense Anakin’s mind slowing beside him, falling deeper into the tides of the Force, and the comfort of it enveloped him. Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift inwards. His spirit floated away from his physical form and deeper into his psyche, deeper into peace. Tension left him in droves. He inhaled.

The air punched out of him, though, when Anakin started poking his upper ribs. He tried not to startle so visibly, but it was a little late for that.

“Are you trying to accomplish anything in particular?” He cleared his throat. Anakin could smell weakness, he was certain of it.

“Juuust testing a theory.” Anakin’s prodding fingers marched down his ribs and his fingers twitched minutely.

“You will not find what you’re seeking.” Obi-Wan’s voice strained against his better intentions. It took all of his strength not to move and a little more to appear calm.

“Are you sure?” Anakin reached Obi-Wan’s sides and didn’t let up. He exhaled a little too hard. He couldn’t allow himself even a smile—Anakin would never let him live it down.

“Of course, I’m—“

A lone giggle shattered their dialogue.

“Woah.” Anakin beamed, slow and steady. The dangerous sparkle in his eye was about one of the only things that could make Obi-Wan nervous.

“Anakin, I’m warning you—“ He didn’t get to finish. Anakin’s hands darted through the various folds and layers of his robes, seeking easier purchase, and found a delightful (read: terrible) spot around his waistline that pulled snickers from him like fresh taffy. He folded forward, falling into fuller laughter at curious scribbles upon his stomach, and Anakin gasped in wonder.

This was so alien to him, a relic of a life long gone. He found himself trying and failing to break up a cage match between his human instincts and his Jedi ones. Had what little shred of pride he had not been at stake, he would’ve fallen over under Anakin’s absurdly nimble hands.

“This is the best day of my life.” Anakin laughed, letting his fingers slip beneath Obi-Wan’s arms, and the subsequent bark of laughter surprised them both.

It’s about to be your last. Though he couldn’t possibly stay mad at the way Anakin was lit up. Perhaps it would be alright to let him win. Just once in a while.

Not today, though.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” He hit Anakin with a gentle pulse of the Force, enough to push him back. Anakin’s face settled into playful terror in real time and he fled, making a hopeless dash for the door. Obi-Wan watched him run--he’d gotten faster lately--before grabbing him by the belt with the Force and throwing him back across the room. He caught Anakin bodily in his arms.

“No, wait—“

“Consider this a lesson in patience, ambition, and sensitivity. Especially the latter.” Obi-Wan locked his arms around Anakin’s waist and lifted him clear off the ground, burying his fingers into as much torso as he could. He burst into squeaky laughter, rife with voice cracks, and threw his head back, narrowly avoiding cracking open Obi-Wan’s nose.

“Oh, looks like you may have a thing or two to teach me!” Obi-Wan grabbed handfuls of Anakin’s sides and he snorted around his next bout of laughter.

“Obi-Wan pleahahase!”

“You know I am not a stickler for rules, but do remember your manners. You could get in some nasty trouble.” He swept Anakin’s feet out from under him, still tickling, and lowered him to the ground, taking great care to avoid the flailing limbs.

“I’m gonna die!” Anakin fruitlessly scrabbled at Obi-Wan’s torso to get the upper hand. Obi-Wan hooked his arm around Anakin’s and pulled it up, exposing the perfect landing strip for pinching fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re so close to being free! Wiggle out from my grip there—oh, you’ve made it worse. Hm.” Obi-Wan clawed at Anakin’s stomach with two hands and an iron grip. Anakin tried to pry the evil hands away, but his strength and coordination had evacuated long ago.

He swung his legs back and forth, kicking wildly, and Obi-Wan was proud of the little momentum he had. It was a clever idea--using momentum to break free of the hold. A fruitless idea, but a clever one nonetheless. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over Anakin’s torso, burying his hands beneath his arms, and the resulting shriek had Obi-Wan chuckling.

“This is wonderfully endearing, Anakin, but not at all effective.” On the next swing, Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s knee and wormed his fingers behind it. Anakin threw his head back and cackled wildly, all bright smiles and nose-scrunched laughter, and Obi-Wan had no qualms with admitting how much the sight lifted his spirits.

“I see the problem. You’re laughing too hard to focus.”

“You thihink?” Anakin squinted at him.

“I do. Try laughing less and see where that gets you.” Obi-Wan rained a hail of pinches down upon his hips and the fight was lost. Anakin made a noise like a ship’s hyperdrive starting up and flailed hard—he caught Obi-Wan in the chest with a stray punch. An endless stream of high-pitched, hysterical giggles bubbled out of Anakin and he did his best to muffle them, but Obi-Wan’s fingers on his neck ensured that he couldn’t.

“You’re turning rather red. Is something the matter?” Gloating was unbecoming, sure, but the two of them had always done things a bit differently. Besides, this was beyond endearing. He’d earned a little teasing.

“I give!” Anakin yelped, scrunching as much as possible. Obi-Wan’s fingers slowed.

“Good. You seemed intent on passing out.” Obi-Wan poked his stomach and Anakin snickered.

“One day,” Anakin wheezed, “I am going to destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.” Obi-Wan extended a hand towards Anakin, glowing with pride, and he took it.

Did Anakin’s promise send a minute shiver up his spine? Perhaps, but he was never one to turn down an entertaining fight.

#my fics #star wars #ticklish!obi wan #ticklish!anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #i dont like this one all that much but im gonna give it a sequel! i think it's gonna be cute :)

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crispyjenkins · 3 years

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Rexobi. I really just wanna see Rex and Obi-wan drinking together and complaining about the disaster that is Anakin Skywalker. They decide to team up to get anakin to calm the heck down and to talk about his feelings. Anakin doesn’t realize what’s going on but gets the idea he needs to play matchmaker with his master and his captain. He thinks he’s the smart one but he’s really not

(i have once again chickened out of your full prompt and instead give you the leadup to rexobi getting anakin to talk about his feelings.

i uhhh may be unable to think of anything but a rexobi au à la this post by @norcumii and @dharmaavocado about roleswap-ish senior padawan obi hella vibing with this mutant clone that can’t get above the rank of captain even as an arc trooper because the kaminoans are Like That, and qui-gon is going spare, because between anakin somehow being allowed to be in charge of a whole battalion and obi-wan picking fights with every single seperatist leader, he and cody never get a moment of peace. and like. just obi and rex being dumbass 20 year olds trying to deal with a general/master like anakin in the middle of a war. i don’t have TIME for that though

thank you for the prompt as always, i think this is the only rexobi/obex prompt i’ve ever gotten and this ship is criminally underappreciated. like?? kadavo?? anyways here’s whatever this is)

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Not for the first time, Rex wishes Kote were the one here dealing with this, because “how to comfort your favorite Jedi” hadn’t exactly been covered in ARC training – actually, Alpha probably withheld the information on purpose, the fucker.

But Kote is on the other side of the galaxy with the 187th and just as upset they’re not here in Rex’s stead: it’s barely a month off General Kenobi returning to his own face, and Rex knows his vod would strangle the entire Senate if given even half a chance for deploying them separately on their general’s first mission back after the Hardeen... incident.

And Fett’s Ghost knows Rex’s own general is going to pitch a fit when he finds out Rex is here instead of taking leave like the rest of the 501st, but Kote certainly wasn’t about to let Kenobi go all the way to Alderaan unguarded so soon after his supposed death; and honestly, Rex would have been offended if they had asked anybody else to do it. Thankfully, Kenobi hadn’t seemed offended when Rex had shown up at the Jedi Temple’s flight hangar before he could take off; instead, he had been rather amused.

Even luckier, Alderaan is barely a day’s jump from Coruscant, so they don’t have to spend too much time awkwardly pretending that Rex hadn’t attended the man’s funeral in Kote's place (that he would have attended anyways), or that Rex doesn’t know Anakin hasn’t spoken to his former master since their debrief to the High Council about Cad Bane. Which Rex should absolutely not know in the first place, but Anakin is his friend, for better or for worse, and Ahsoka thinks her master airs far too many of his grievances to his captain.

It isn't until their cruiser is making the descent over Alderaan that Kenobi finally addresses the tension between them, which only proves that Kenobi is well aware of it, but had put it off as long as he could. It's a humanising observation, that Rex wishes he could have had when he isn't the only vod in a ten mile radius that isn't the pilot, because at least then he wouldn't be the sole receiver of the soft smile Kenobi gives him as he joins Rex to wait by the shuttle's access hatch.

Rex thanks his progenitor's laughing corpse he has his bucket on, because all he can do is stare.

"You are worried about Anakin," Kenobi says matter of factly, though not unkindly, and Rex lets out a breath that's almost a laugh.

"I promise I am far more discrete with my thoughts in the field, sir."

Kenobi chuckles warmly, tucking his arms behind his back to watch the planet under them grow larger as they approach. "Do try not to worry so much, my dear, this will all resolve itself in time."

It's hard to stare right at his gentle assuredness, so Rex looks away. "You have far more faith in his ability to forgive than I, sir."

That laugh strains at the edges. "Yes, well, I'm afraid some of my lessons seem to have been... lacking."

Rex has regs carbon-printed on his brain, he knows that even without the direct chain of command, the soft push and pull of his relationship with Kenobi, the steady, serene growth of it, is... problematic, for so many reasons that he wouldn't know where to start. Not least of all is rank, how much more important a Jedi is than a replaceable CC-track washout, but, well, Rex had washed out for being too emotional, so it's not as if he's exactly unused to reacting to things inappropriately for a good little soldier.

"It's not my place, sir," he murmurs, remembering Kadavo, remembering Umbara, remembering the hand Kenobi had laid on his shoulder for far too long after the Blue Shadow virus, and has Rex really been this gone since then? "just say the word and I won't mention it again. But just because Kote isn't here doesn't mean you have to... shoulder all of this alone."

In fact, it's wildly not his place to make such an offer, however implicit, but that month on Kadavo did happen, and Rex isn't so self-deprecating to believe he hadn't had a heavy hand in helping Kenobi make it out on the other side as well as he did. He doesn't think so little of the bond they had formed then, to believe that Obi-Wan is unaware of it.

Not when he smiles at Rex like that, like he's a warm cup of caf after a week in the trenches, like Rex is... worthy of such sincere affection.

As the shuttle settles around them and the pilot announces their arrival over comm, Obi-Wan simply says, "I did not for a moment believe I was, my dear."

"You and Rex seem close."

Normally Obi-Wan can feel Anakin coming from an entire corridor away, but he also knows Quinlan has been teaching him a few Shadow tricks, so he isn't entirely surprised when Anakin appears at his elbow in the empty bridge looking like a smug necu.

Aside from eating firstmeal with Kote in the mess, Obi-Wan hasn't even seen Rex today, much less interacted with him: as he understands it, Rex is trying to round up the remaining 501st shinies that are running around the Negotiator, so Obi-Wan really doesn't know where Anakin had gotten that notion. Recently, at least.

Anakin rolls his eyes and scoffs, leaning back on the railing next to him and crossing his arms. "Please, Master, even Snips has noticed."

Obi-Wan refrains from telling him that anyone with a modicum more self-awareness than him has noticed. Be that as it may, "This is one of those times where I truly don't know what you're trying to say, my dear: I have been close with Rex since he was in the 212th."

It isn't even an exaggeration, that there had been... something between them before Anakin whisked Rex away to his own battalion after his knighting, though back then it had been nothing more than friendship. If he recalls correctly, and he does, the cleanup of the Ryloth capitol had been the first time since then that they had worked closely, while Anakin had been on the ground with the locals and Mace had been with General Syndulla, and Obi-Wan had found he still quite enjoyed the way they worked together. Their time on Naboo combating the Blue Shadow virus had only endeared the captain more to him —he does remember a slip in propriety in his relief that Rex had been rescued safely with Padmé and Ahsoka, a hand left too long on the captain's shoulder until Kote had called him away— enough that Obi-Wan had been both relieved and horrified that it was Rex there to support him on Kadavo.

"Cody said Rex was the one to go with you to Alderaan; you sure nothing 'happened' while you were there?" Anakin chuckles to himself like he's being incredibly clever, like there isn’t a hickey visible over the collar of his under tunic.

Obi-Wan raises a brow slowly and refrains from rolling his eyes. "Despite what you may believe, Anakin, not everyone leaps into committed relationships after life-threatening situations." Not that Alderaan had been life-threatening, it had actually been as close to actual leave as Obi-Wan has had the entire war.

"Please, it took Padmé and I ages to–"

Anakin seems to swallow his tongue, then, face rapidly going purple, and it really is a miracle the entire Republic doesn’t know about his marriage; the GAR certainly does.

Sighing, Obi-Wan checks the chrono and decides it isn't too early for another cup of tea. "If you have a specific question about my relationship with Captain Rex, I do wish you’d be direct, my dear."

Anakin splutters. "Relationship?!"

"Great Maker, Anakin, you’re easier to spook than a half-starved blurrg." He pats Anakin’s arm, his sonbrother floundering for anything other than abject confoundment, as Obi-Wan turns away from the bridge to go locate both tea, and his commander to hopefully finalise their newest mission orders. "Don't worry," he calls over his shoulder, "I'll actually let you come to the wedding, unlike someone."

Not that Obi-Wan has any such plans, Maker knows he and Rex have yet to address their feelings in the first place, but he'd be lying if part of him doesn't want to conspire with the captain in question —and perhaps Ahsoka— to see just how far they could take this before Anakin realises they're stringing him along.

Remarkably, Rex is waiting by Obi-Wan’s office with a flimsi cup of tea and a harried smile that promised quite the day chasing after shinies, and Obi-Wan decides conning his former apprentice can wait.

Mando’a: vod/e — “brother/s”, “comrade/s”, “sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s”

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tommysparker · 3 years

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Never Forget You [Chapter 4]

A/N: hey y’all. just wanna say sorry for the posting schedule change. life is about to get hella hectic with school and the move sooo yeah. every second Saturday I will be posting! it’ll defiantly give me a chance to write more as well so im not rushing out chapters. anyways ive rambled long enough, enjoy :)

Warnings: angst. theres fluff too but its fluffy angst?? im not sorry hehe. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks.

From an outside perspective, one would assume the four of them were deep in thought, perhaps even communicating telepathically via the Force. They would only be half correct, as all of the Jedi were indeed thinking, but none of their trains of thought overlapped.

Anakin and Ahoska were in the pilot seats, glancing at each other every other minute or so. They could feel the tension build thicker with every passing planet. The only sound filling the room was the faint running of the engine that kept the ship moving.

You and Obi-Wan sat across from each other, neither one daring to make eye contact. Apparently, he was quite serious about the “not speaking from now on” agreement. It’s for the best, you kept telling yourself. However, the awkward silence that filled the ship made it harder to believe that.

Out of all the things that could happen to you at the moment, this was by far the worst.

On Gyfil, you had grown quite used to the sound of silence. In fact, over time you began to prefer it as opposed to the buzz of the towns. However, this was a different type of silence, one that had you bouncing your knee in anticipation for Anakin to announce you finally landed.

Master Yoda had called you all for a mission briefing. There was a supposed Separatist group meeting on Ostor, given the intel you received from a client on your previous mission. The four of you were sent to listen in on it.

“Young Skywalker and Padawan Tano, back up you will be. Great risks on Ostor, there are. Careful, you must be.” He turned to Obi-Wan and You. “Master Y/l/n, guide them you must do. In charge of the mission, I am putting you.”

A sense of pride filled your body but you quickly humbled yourself. “Thank you Master.”

Master Yoda smiled and turned to Obi-Wan. “Infiltrate the meeting, you and Master Y/l/n will. Stay together, you must.”

Obi-Wan would have laughed at the irony. Mentally he still is. Stay together, you must. After the last conversation between the two of you, he had doubts about how that plan would go. However, for the sake of the mission he was willing to lift the deal made.

You stood quietly, not being able to handle the loud silence any longer. “I’ll be in my quarters until we land,” you announced, making a point not to look at Obi-Wan and keep all attention to Anakin and Ahsoka.

You left without sparing a glance back.

He waited until you were out of view to let out a long sigh, running a hand over his beard and hunching forward.

Anakin was the first to speak. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.” His shoulders shook as he made a disgusted sound. “Glad it’s finally over.”

“Just focus on getting us there in one piece, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped, immediately followed by, “apologizes, I didn’t mean to sound so...aggressive.”

“So much for being able to hide stress, huh?”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Some things are harder to deal with than others.”

“Is Master Y/l/n ‘some things’?” Ahoska asked innocently.

Obi-Wan pondered for a minute, deciding the best way to answer. “Master Y/l/n is...many things.”

“Like what?”

Gorgeous. Strong. Kind. Perfect in every way. “They are highly skilled, almost as well as I am, if not better. A fine Jedi and a valuable member to the Order.” He stopped there before he’d say something he’d come to regret. Best to keep professional thoughts.

“I still don’t understand why the Council sent them away like that. Surely there were other Jedi that could have completed the mission,” Anakin commented. He knew his former Master wasn’t satisfied with the answer they were all given but would never admit it. He had to push him to find the truth.

“Whatever reasons Master Yoda and Master Windu had for picking Y/n are between them. You must stop questioning the Council’s intentions, Anakin. It will land you in very big trouble one day.” Obi-Wan says as if he hasn’t second guessed the Order as a whole before. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. The less you question things, the easier life is.

“That’s why I keep you around, old man,” Anakin said in a teasing manner. Hearing Obi-Wan let out a light chuckle made him feel a bit better as they settled into silence once more, this time more comfortable and light-hearted.

A bit more time had passed before Ahsoka spoke up. “Why don’t you ask Master Y/l/n what really happened?”

Obi-Wan sighed. He should have known better than to believe she would drop the topic. Like Master, like Padawan. “It’s none of my business. Frankly, it’s none of ours so I suggest we leave the subject alone.”

His answer, apparently, wasn’t good enough. “I’m gonna go ask them.” Ahsoka stands up to leave but is stopped mid-movement by Obi-Wan’s protests.

“No!” He looked at Ahsoka’s slightly stunned face, and chose to ignore Anakin’s smug look. “Fine, I’ll ask them. But only once, and if they don’t want to indulge me then that is the end of it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

Meanwhile, you sat alone on the bed in your chosen quarters. It made you feel relaxed, in a way. Before leaving, you were extremely extraverted, always going out of your way to make acquaintances with everyone around you. The life forces around you at night kept you alive, it gave a sense of warmth and comfort to lull you to slumber. On Gyfil, there was none of that. You had to rely on your own warmth to comfort yourself to sleep. No lush trees or animals to provide even the smallest bit of connection. It was just You and the Force. Sleeping for the first time in the Jedi Temple after returning felt like a sensory overload. Everything was loud, and rough. You could feel it coursing through your veins at the speed of light. No matter what you did, it was too much.

You didn’t sleep the first few days. Eventually you got used to the noise, but not enough to get a decent amount of rest at night. There was one sound that sometimes made it impossible to sleep, one Force signature that kept trying to break through the walls you put up to protect yourself when you’re most vulnerable. What scared you the most was the fact your own signature subconsciously fought back against the walls you put. You refused to acknowledge it, choosing to fall into a deep meditative slumber and stay alert as opposed to any actual sleep. Whoever it was would not get into your head so easily.

Knock knock. Obi-Wan stepped into the room once his presence was made known, gently shutting the door behind him. “Y/n…”

You looked up and squinted at him. “I thought we agreed to not speak?”

“Yes, well, that proves to be a bit tricky now doesn’t it?” He smiled tightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

You huffed out air in a sorry attempt at a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head a little. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?”

It was neither hostile nor endearing. It was simply his first name. To him you sounded tired, and judging by the way you sat on the cot, leaning back against the cold metal wall with your eyes half opened, he presumed his assumption was correct. He spoke gently, “Anakin estimates we should be coming out of hyperspace and landing soon.”

“I figured.” It wasn’t your intention to be stoic but that's how you’ve been training yourself to speak to the man in front of you. The faster the conversation ends, the faster he leaves.

Obi-Wan, however, was not having it. “How are you feeling? I know it hasn’t been that long since you returned from your previous assignment.”

You shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fine.”

“No one who says that is ever truly ‘fine’ Y/n/n,” he says, taking a step closer to the bed. “I know you. What’s on your mind, darling?”

You slowly met his gaze, debating whether to open up or keep yourself closed off. On one hand, the idea of exposing your anxieties to someone didn’t feel right to you, letting someone know about your weaknesses and insecurities. However, you knew in order for the mission to succeed you would have to be willing to work with Obi-Wan and to do that a sense of trust had to be built. Rebuilt, technically.

“If you wish not to speak, I understand.” He hesitated turning his back to you, “excuse me.” He was about to make his leave before you interrupted.

“Obi-Wan, wait,” You sighed, shifting so there was room for him to sit on the bed. “Sit.”

He did as he was told, eyeing you carefully. “Honestly, I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine.” You knew his intentions and as pure as they were you cannot bring yourself to tell him the truth. “I admit that I...am slightly concerned about the mission.”

It wasn’t the answer Obi-Wan was hoping for, but he was willing to hear anything he could get out of you. “You have nothing to be worried about Y/n/n. You’re an extremely capable Jedi and I have no doubt in my mind you will lead us through it.”

You smiled, only slightly but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back.

Your eyes locked tight with each other, and everything around you became emptiness. A void surrounded you both and the presence of the other was all that could be felt.

“Staring competitions are pointless.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight and attempting to return your meditative state.

“No they aren’t!: Obi-Wan argued from his spot across from you.

“All you do is stare at each other until someone blinks. Waste of time.”

“Nuh uh. Master Qui-Gon told me that--” Obi-Wan stood up, “--‘The eyes are a window to the soul’--” you laughed at the bad attempt he made to mimic his Master;s voice, “--therefore staring competitions can be a very good battle tactic.”

“Jedi don’t do battles, remember? We’re peacekeepers.” You looked up at your friend. “Besides, you just want an excuse to get lost in my eyes.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “You know me so well.”

So much has changed about the man in front of you, you could hardly recognize him. You never allowed yourself the pleasure to examine what you missed out on. One moment he was a young man who looked like he could take on the universe, and now all you could see was one tired man doing his best. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, is what the old You would have teased. But post-living-ten-years-by-yourself You was different. In a way, you understood. Although you didn’t fight any life-threatening battles and put yourself in the line of fire every week, you have worked tirelessly towards the same goal.

Peace.

Like this moment.

For once, it was quiet. You felt yourself relax slowly, focusing on the one noise that soothed your anxious mind. It felt warm and...close. Something you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

Obi-Wan leaned closer, his heart reacting faster than his brain. He felt a warmth he had been longing for over a decade. When he reached out, he no longer felt desolate. He wanted to hold on to the feeling and never let go.

But alas in time of war, small moments of peace only last for so long.

“Hey! We’re here.”

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years

Text

THE BOX IS NABOO

That’s it, I’m doing it, I’m writing that stupid meta I’ve had in the works for two and a half years, I’m sharing it with the world. I promised it for last Thursday, my poll was forever ago, but whatever! I’m writing that freaking thing.

(super duper long post, press j to skip)

Enter my rabbit hole.

First thing to establish: the Box makes no sense whatsoever in-universe.

((EDIT: Something I forgot to mention. IRL, the premise of a giant murder cube and the aesthetic - wall patterns, light designs, etc - of the episode come from the 1997 horror movie Cube, (see the episode’s wookieepedia page). However, while the two are very closely linked visually, the Box does not follow the movie structurally or narratively, as you can verify by simply reading the movie’s summary.))

Recap of the context for the "Box" episode (s4e17): Palpatine is planning his own kidnapping. It was never meant to succeed, and while the plan would obviously benefit him (making the Jedi look bad, pushing Anakin closer to the Dark Side, making Republic citizens more afraid -> more docile, etc...) his actual goal is never explained, and it’s weird that he’d go to such extreme lengths for results so minimal that we’re never told what they are.

So Palpatine asks Dooku to kidnap him at the Festival of Lights on Naboo. Dooku hires Moralo Eval to design a giant box-thingy to test bounty hunters to hire the best of them to kidnap Palpatine. Moralo then gets arrested to alert the Republic that something is afoot, and hires Cad Bane to break him out. Obi-Wan - undercover to learn Moralo’s plan - goes with them. They evade capture and go to Serenno, and Bane and Obi-Wan have to pass the box-thingy test. The level of brainkarked logic here... Truly on par with Megamind, Gru and Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

Setting aside the insane plot holes and utterly nonsensical behavior of the villains, the Box itself is moronic from a plot perspective. It’s insanely complex, obviously incredibly expensive and would have taken months (more like years but it’s a short war) to make when it’s not even needed for the dastardly plot! Just hire some guys who have already proven themselves against Jedi! Throw cash at Bane and Embo and a few others! Maybe attack them with your saber and see how they do!

And after all that, Dooku still ends up trying to kidnap Palpatine on his own. I can’t even...

So why does the Box exist? Well, apart from being a nerdy callback to Cube, giving us a good thrill and being generally awesome to look at, it has actual narrative purpose within the SW universe.

The box is Naboo.

What the Box lacks in plot relevance, it makes up for with its heavily symbolic meaning. It very closely follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s experiences on Naboo - but only certain parts, which I’ll explain later.

We start with clean, sterile environments, SW’s favored way of showing villainy.

Then we have the protagonists locked in a room as dioxis, a poison gas, pours in.

And then they escape... this way.

(Okay, here the shaft is down, not up. And it’s not a ventilation shaft per say, it’s the designed escape route. Same difference).

We then skip most of TPM (namely, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discovering the droid army, finding Padmé, leaving Naboo, landing on Tatooine, going to Coruscant, etc, etc) to come back to Naboo and go directly to the lightsabers and catwalks.

(Note: in both scenes, Obi-Wan has to propel himself from a catwalk.)

In TPM and TCW, the catwalks are immediately followed by ray shields

And we finally end with the last scenes. Now, they don’t look the same but they are structurally identical.

Obi-Wan is faced with a challenge unsuited for his abilities (facing Darth Maul // shooting three moving targets when he’s far more skilled with a blade than a blaster) on a narrow space above a melting pit/pit of fire.

He first watches someone die failing to complete the task...

... and has to do it himself, faring much better than expected (holding his own against Maul // shooting all the targets easily).

He then almost falls to his death and gets saved unexpectedly.

And then there’s the final showdown.

In both scenes, Obi-Wan is angry. And in TCW Dooku eggs him on, banking on his anger. (More on that later.) In both cases though, he centers himself and is able to overcome both his opponent and his own unbalance. But in TCW, he doesn’t go for the kill, because he doesn’t need to.

The Box, as a literal character-explorator ex-machina, thus shows us Obi-Wan’s growth.

In TPM, Obi-Wan follows Qui-Gon’s lead. In TCW, he is the leader. He identifies the gas, makes the plans. He doesn’t fall from catwalks anymore - he runs atop moving ones. He doesn’t stay stuck behind ray-shields, he finds the solution. (Btw, how did Moralo know what blood type Derrown the Exterminator was? There was a 50% chance of him dying - thus killing all of the bounty hunters. Was that an acceptable outcome? TCW I need answers!) He doesn’t slay his foes, because he’s become powerful enough, skilled enough and wise enough to survive (and win) without needing to kill.

He’s grown - and, even more interestingly, he’s also stayed the same. In the previous episodes, we see some of the dark aspects of Obi-Wan. How he - like all Force-wielders, all people - could lose himself if he stopped maintaining absolute control.

But in the Box, surrounded by the worst criminals of the Galaxy, the most ruthless, worthless people, he’s still kind and tries his best to keep them alive.

The Box is a reminder and a reassurance for the audience that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still there under Rako’s face. He hasn’t lost his compassion, his restrain. He’s still a Jedi. And he’s an awesome, badass one.

And now, for what it tells us about Dooku!

It’s much shorter, don’t worry. Basically, Dooku considers that the best way to pick “the best of the best” of the deadliest people in the Galaxy is making them go through what killed his Padawan. There, I’ve broken your hearts, you’re welcome.

More seriously, Dooku is a manipulative ass. It’s pretty clear that he knows Rako is Obi-Wan, or at the very least suspects it.

He has an interesting reaction upon learning Rako’s identity, he keeps praising him despite his usual distaste for low-lifes, he smirks secretively after Eval says “I’ll show you who’s weak” (not included there because it’s a close-up of Dooku’s lips and no one wants to see that) and he tells Rako he’s very disappointed when he doesn’t finish off Eval.

[Later]

(Look at this smug asshole - I can’t. YOUR GRANDSON IS THE BEST, WE KNOW, STOP ACTIVELY RUINING HIS LIFE ALREADY.)

(Dooku... why...)

Now obviously Dooku couldn’t have made the Box specifically for Obi-Wan, because it would have to have been designed months before the Council ever decided to send Obi-Wan undercover, but he has no qualms trying to use it to push Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Ffs Dooku, making your spiritual grandson relive one of the most traumatic events of his life on the off chance that he’ll join you (and desecrate his Master’s memory in doing so) is not okay!

Final tidbits of analysis: I mentioned that not all of TPM is mirrored in the Box. What’s omitted is the droids (even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight B1′s and droidekas between the dioxis and the ventilation shafts) and anything pertaining to Sidious (all the political stuff on Coruscant). You’ll also note that the fake lightsabers are orange.

=> The Box distances itself from anything that connects Dooku to Naboo. Red lightsabers are the trademark of the Sith, so they’re not used. The bounty hunters will be facing Jedi, so logically the fake sabers should be green or blue - and yet they’re orange, the color closest to red without being red. It fits with Dooku’s special brand of dishonesty - he always tells bits of the real story but twists them just enough to absolve himself of any fault and to justify his choices.

(”We can destroy the Sith” -> could maybe destroy Sidious with Obi-Wan, but fails to mention he’s a Sith Lord himself; “the Viceroy came to me for help, that’s why I’m attacking the Republic” -> political idealism is a small part of it, but fails to mention he’s Sidious’ underling and is playing the Viceroy like a fiddle; “Qui-Gon would have joined me” -> maybe, still fails to mention he’s working for the man who ordered Qui-Gon’s death; “I told you everything you needed to know” -> debatable, never said that Palps was Sidious; “Sifo-Dyas understood, that’s why he helped me” -> partly true, doesn’t admit to killing Sifo-Dyas right after getting his help)

So we have a twisted version of Naboo, droid-free (as droids are now irrevocably associated with Dooku, even if that wasn’t the case in TPM) and with sabers that aren’t quite red. Keep in mind that Dooku had already fallen by TPM. (We know this because he killed Sifo-Dyas and created the Clone Army - part of Sidious’ plan - when Valorum was still Chancellor, as per the episode The Lost One.) That means Dooku was (in)directly complicit in Qui-Gon’s death. And the Box doesn’t (=refuses to?) acknowledge that.

(Also omitted in the Box are the Gungans and Tatooine. It makes sense, because Dooku probably wouldn’t have the full details regarding those parts of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s missio as they weren’t as public, and would see them as irrelevant if he did. He utterly despises Anakin, and Gungans are the type of people he always dismisses out of hand).

Anyway, that’s my two cents about the Box. To quote Lucas...

“It’s like poetry. It rhymes.”

Thanks to @lethebantroubadour @impossiblybluebox @nonbinarywithaknife @ytoz and @kaitie85386 for voting for this one. Next up is a compilation of the Jedi being casually tactile with each other (because they’re a warm and affectionate culture, dammit).

Also thanks to @laciefuyu for giving me gifs I ended up not using ^^; you rock anyway!

#meta #my meta #the box #deception arc #rako hardeen #rako hardeen arc #naboo #obi-wan kenobi #count dooku #cad bane #moralo eval #darth sidious

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mahizli · 3 years

Text

Reckless (There Is No Chaos, There Is Harmony)

Beautiful art that can be found here, and that shows what happens *after* and not *during* this story, that is also Part 3 of Threading The Way.

26 BBY.

“Why don’t you ever say something nice to me?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Anakin…”

“See what I mean? It’s never enough for you, is it?”

“Now don’t pull that card on me, Padawan–”

“No, you don’t get to Padawan me!”

Anakin paused, out of breath, cheeks flushed with rage, facing Obi-Wan whose eyes had started to brighten as well but still stayed infuriatingly calm. He had crossed his arms, though, fingers twisting the fabric of his tunic, meaning even perfect-and-tidy-Master-Obi-Wan could get upset. And Anakin wanted his Master to get upset. He wanted him to feel just as angry and betrayed and hurt as he was.

“You don’t get to tell the Council my actions were a bit rash. I saved your kriffing life, Master, I prevented a whole building from collapsing on you, and just because you’re too weak to do the same, you don’t get to be jealous of me and belittle me and call my actions rash in front of stupid Master Windu!”

He was as tall as his Master now. And he would get taller than Obi-Wan, that much was obvious, because he had already outgrown him in matters of boot-size. Meaning he was on eye-level with his Master. Meaning he had a full view of the whirlwind of emotions blossoming in Obi-Wan’s stormy eyes, and the way every bit of colour left his Master’s cheeks.

Obi-Wan’s fingers tightened around his arms, and for a few seconds, even the Force felt still around them, leaving Anakin quivering with rage and something uncomfortable feeling a lot like shame.

“Master Windu is not responsible for the way you feel about me”, Obi-Wan finally managed to push out, in a somewhat breathy voice.

And the angry beast deep within Anakin raised its tail again, clawing its talons deep into his chest and belly.

“No, because you are”, he spat out, and of all the things he could have done, his Master blinked.

It made Anakin even more angry. He wanted Obi-Wan to roar, to stand up against him, to yell at him, to call him names, to fight. Not to stand there looking like a small, breakable thing that could be crushed in an eyeblink, if Anakin wasn’t watching – and Obi-Wan had not a clue, Obi-Wan never had a clue…

“Anakin, my intention never was to belittle you.”

“Well I don’t believe you.”

Something in Obi-Wan’s face closed then, and Anakin felt his Master’s shields slam shut, leaving their bond blank, like the aftermath of an explosion. Obi-Wan’s hands left his arms, and then his Master simply walked past him, leaving their sitting room for the kitchen.

It was always the same, whenever Obi-Wan felt overwhelmed. He would simply stop talking, leaving the argument like he would leave a room, and it drew Anakin nuts.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, angrily, watching his Master open a cupboard, fetching a sponge and an old cleaning rag, without even using the Force – sometimes Obi-Wan seemed to forget it even existed.

“I’m clearing the dust”, Obi-Wan rasped, in that strangled tone of voice he had whenever Anakin had pushed every possible button to draw him ballistic. “It’s been weeks since we’ve been here, and I’m not sleeping in a dirty room.”

“Have you listened to a word I said?”

“Have you?”

Strange, how Obi-Wan’s fierceness could sound so much like sadness. Strange, also, how luminous his eyes could look whenever he finally chose to stand up, to fight back – and he didn’t even use his lightsaber, just some ratty sponge and rag, wiping the table with enough strength to wipe out every possible stain.

“I’m clearing the dust. I suggest you do the same, literally or metaphorically.”

“Typical.”

And with that last insult, hissed like a fire-breath from whatever nasty beast was feasting on sadness and hurt behind his chest, Anakin left their quarters, slamming their door shut, heading straight for the hangers where droids and speeders were waiting for him, and could do nothing but agreeing with him.

It had been six years. Six kriffing years, since Anakin had arrived at the Temple, had heard Master Windu tell him he would never become a Jedi, and yet there he was. There he was, going on missions with his Master, flying their ship, fighting alongside Obi-Wan and saving the day whenever his Master’s disturbing habit of talking them out of trouble backfired on them.

And yet, Anakin could not shake the nagging feeling that no one really wanted him there, that they were all watching him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to slip up, to prove them they had all been right, no matter how hard he tried.

And Obi-Wan did not help. Not anymore. He was trying to reign Anakin in, instead of letting his power grow, instead of letting him prove himself, talking about balance and reason and mindfulness, when all was just a piece of rubbish.

“How is mindfulness going to keep you from getting crushed?”, Anakin muttered, teeth gritted around a nut he was determined to screw deep within the speeder’s core.

His hair was soon matted with dust and oil, and his skin salty with sweat. He was about as far he could get from Obi-Wan’s notions of cleanliness, and it felt so deeply satisfying that the beast behind Anakin’s chest finally quietened.

He spent enough hours under that speeder to get hungry, but it was out of the question to go back to their quarters and to Obi-Wan – because going back was almost like apologizing, and Anakin did not want to.

So he did what he always did, whenever he fought his Master and wanted to vent about him. Master Quinlan was useless in such cases, getting all stern and serious to the point even Aayla was beginning to look worried – but then, Master Quinlan was always a bit overprotective of his friends, so…

No, the best person whenever he wanted to talk, and explain just how betrayed and misunderstood he felt was Master Luminara, who somehow always managed to calm him down, and to silence the beast within him.

“Hello, Padawan Skywalker”, she greeted him, night-like eyes sparkling with unspoken fondness. “I see you have made it back from your mission.”

“Hello, Master Luminara. There is no need to Padawan me, you know.”

“Oh, I know. But I, too, do enjoy a tease every now and then. Do come in.”

“Thank you. Oh.”

Master Luminara’s usually impeccably tidy rooms were crowded with two empty shelves, what looked to be parts of a desk and two mechanic droids adding to the mess and bustle.

“Don’t tell me you are dusting as well”, Anakin muttered, dejectedly.

“Because Obi-Wan is?”, Luminara asked, cheerily, moving to the kitchen to brow themselves a cup of caff.

“Mhm”, Anakin let out, allowing his long, gangly limbs to cram themselves between the bench and the table, and to let out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh. Sponge or rag?”

“Both.”

“That bad, then…”

She was not laughing at him, though. Master Luminara never was. She always listened to him, and she never judged, unlike Master Quinlan who didn’t hesitate to yell and occasionally even shake him – not that Anakin minded, because it was always somewhat amusing to watch him loose his cool.

“He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how I feel. He thinks I’m acting rashly, that I only follow my instinct and my whims instead of thinking things through, that I rely too much on my emotions, and not enough on the Force. But it’s not true! I’m the one who saved him from being crushed, last mission, and he keeps pulling stunts like that, getting into trouble and then lecturing me because I got him out!”

“What happened, Anakin? DUM, NIK, would you please put those shelves in the spare room – and the desk as well, opposite the bed…?”

“Why are you refurnishing that room, Master Luminara?”

“Never mind now, Anakin. Please tell me, how did you prevent Obi-Wan from getting crushed, exactly?”

And so, Anakin finally got to tell someone about how that building exploded, how his Master was standing just below, having been talking to officials, and how Anakin prevented the building from collapsing, holding it up with the Force for almost twenty minutes.

“He just lectured me. In the med-centre. Of all the things he could have done, he lectured me.”

“In the med-centre?”

“Yeah. I… sort of collapsed, after that. But it was okay. The medics said I just had some Jedi-Force-exhaustion, and I slept it off, and that was it.”

“I see… And how long, exactly, were you unconscious, Anakin?”

Anakin watched the caff swirl in his cup, as he moved it around in small circles, until he finally let out two pitiful words, refusing to look up.

“Two days.”

Luminara let the words sink in, and gently placed a soft, cool hand on his. But she didn’t say a word, just waited for him to rise his eyes and let out a small, undignified breath sounding a lot like a sob.

“I just wanted to make him proud”, he whispered, and Luminara drew him against her, allowing him to hide his burning face against his neck. “I know I should have thought of something else, I even know that he probably would have jumped away, but I… I knew I could do it, and I wanted to save him. And instead…”

“You saved him, Anakin. And I do not think Obi-Wan denies it. I think he was as scared of losing you than you were of losing him. I think that, whenever Obi-Wan calls you reckless, he is chiding himself for not protecting you better. For exposing you. He knows just how many eyes are on both of you. And I think your Master is trying to shield you – to make it appear like he is the one failing to hold you back, whenever you get passionate, so that you can continue to be who you are deep inside.”

Anakin frowned at that, and then he shook his head.

“I’m too chaotic for him. Sometimes I think he’d be better off without me.”

“Nonsense, Anakin. Obi-Wan thrives in chaos, believe me. Quinlan, Master Qui-Gon, and now you – he needs someone reckless enough to draw him out of his shell.”

That made Anakin smile, and unfold from Luminara’s embrace.

“So. Why are you putting those shelves and desk into the spare-room?”, he asked, and he watched Luminara’s face soften in quiet joy.

“Because tomorrow, Padawan Skywalker, I will welcome my very own Padawan into those quarters. I have waited for her to become of age, and tomorrow, we will finally start our apprenticeship together.”

“Your apprenticeship, Master Luminara? You are no apprentice anymore…”

“But I am, Padawan Skywalker. I am going to begin to learn what it means to be a Padawan’s Master and companion – it is not something we are born with, you know… And the Master learns just as much as the Padawan, on their journey together.”

It was late already when Anakin finally left Master Luminara’s quarters. He had helped her move the furniture where she wanted them, and had even managed to empower the droids so as to allow them to fix some of the shelves to the wall, standing one on top of the other. The room was clean and tidy, just like his had been when Obi-Wan had open his door to him – and Anakin remembered, with a sinking heart, just how different things had been for both of them, and just how much time it had taken for Obi-Wan to claim his own room and find the courage to clear it from Master Jinn’s things with him.

He opened their door with a slow, controlled Force-brush, and closed it noiselessly behind him, tiptoeing inside. The sitting room was clean, without a speck of dust, the plants were watered and even the holobooks and holovids had been dusted and put lovingly back into place. The kitchen was spotless as well, spoons and cupboards neatly stored in the cupboards, and even the ground was shiny and smelt of cleanliness. Anakin’s room was untouched though – Obi-Wan having learned very early that Anakin was very peculiar about boundaries, storing treasures and droid-parts – save for the bed that had been made with fresh sheets.

He found his Master in his own room, not even needing to open the door. Obi-Wan had dusted and cleaned his own room, and Valentine was letting out small, regular puffs on the windowsill – her very own way to snore.

Obi-Wan himself was stretched on his bed, feet still brushing the ground and arms circling his face, like someone who had sat down, then let himself fall backwards, without moving ever since. He was still holding the infamous rag in a loose grip, but he was fast asleep, hair still a bit sweaty from exertion, features lax behind the stubble he kept growing to hide just how young he looked.

Anakin shook his head, and took the rag from Obi-Wan’s hand, wrinkling his nose.

“Gross, Master. And ridiculous”, he whispered, careful not to wake him up.

He managed to shower and change without Obi-Wan even stirring – and Anakin realised then just how tired his Master must have been. He had not really noticed, but in hindsight it was obvious. Because his Master never slept whenever he was ill or injured, always hovering anxiously at his side, even pretending not to be.

He came back to Obi-Wan’s room with a data-pad, and had managed to reach level 72 of his newest game, when he finally heard a deep sigh leaving his Master’s chest, and realised Obi-Wan was waking up.

“Hello there”, Anakin whispered – and his own chest felt oddly tight, remembering the dreadful words he had thrown at his Master.

His Master whose first reaction was to smile at him and reach out for his hand, placing warm, loose fingers around his wrist, in an instinctive gesture of love or care that made the knot in Anakin’s chest even tighter.

Obi-Wan sat up, and then only seemed to remember that they had fought and were supposed to be at odds, his face getting all tight and apprehensive once more. But his hand was still around Anakin’s wrist, and Anakin did not let him speak – he just embraced him fiercely with everything he had, hiding his face deep into Obi-Wan’s chest.

“I am so, so sorry, Master. I never meant any of it. I promise. I promise.”

Obi-Wan just breathed out and hugged him back. They stayed like that for some time, and their bond was no longer silent and cold, but simply there, like it had been for six years – tying Anakin to the Force and to his Master.

“Have you eaten?”, Obi-Wan finally asked, ever practical, and Anakin shook his head.

“Shall we, then?”, his Master asked. “There’s pie in the cantina tonight.”

“Wizard”, Anakin muttered, but he didn’t let go.

Not before he managed to ask that very important question, the one that had fuelled the beast’s anger deep within him.

“Master, do you think I’m… too chaotic? Do you think… Do you sometimes think about… how different life would have been… without having to take me in?”

This time Obi-Wan straightened. And this time his Master’s voice was as fierce and powerful as it could get – just like it was whenever he put a stop to all the nonsense the Galaxy allowed to happen during their missions, just like it was whenever he did something so great Anakin could just stand there and gape and think about just how awesome his Master was.

“I don’t even want to begin considering it.”

Anakin’s throat tightened, and he closed his eyes, feeling his Master’s hands on his back, gently tapping him.

“I’d die of boredom”, Obi-Wan whispered, grazing Anakin’s hair with his stubble, laughing silently at his indignant squawk. “Besides, Padawan mine…”

He let go of Anakin, just enough to be able to look at him, and to place Anakin’s braid back behind his ear.

“There is harmony to be found, even within chaos.”

He placed something into Anakin’s palm, smiling softly at him, and watched him discover a small black bead harbouring a beautiful golden streak.

“What is this one for, Master? I�� I just yelled at you. I called you… I told you some horrible things.”

“But you also saved my life. And you taught me that sometimes… sometimes I still put things the wrong way, whenever I try to talk to you, and about you.”

“I do so as well, Master”, Anakin whispered, fingers closing shyly around the bead.

“Well then, Padawan… I think we still make quite the pair.”

And we can both become better Jedi together.

His Master’s voice was warm and loving in Anakin’s mind. And so Anakin smiled, and pulled his Master up, determined to pull him towards the cantina as fast as he could.

Because, tonight, there was pie, and after all, Anakin was starving.

#star wars fanfiction #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #padawan anakin #arguing #hurt/comfort #hurt anakin #hurt obi-wan #Luminara Unduli #jedi june #jedi appreciation #JEDI goodness #rather jedi summer than jedi june #because I am really late #sorry

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sonoftatooine · 3 years

Text

Whumpay 2021

DAY 19: HOPE / DESPAIR

Finally, this one took ages

Characters: Padmé Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Brainwashing

Summary: Winter Soldier AU - Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker disappeared from the face of the Galaxy the day Palpatine executed Order 66. Padmé Amidala, however, managed to escape from Coruscant when the Empire was formed and became a founding member of the Rebellion. Several years later, when Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to capture the Emperor’s infamous Sith apprentice, Darth Vader, Padmé is left to deal with the horrifying discovery of what happened to her husband at the fall of the Republic.

***

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Padmé Amidala, former Senator of Naboo and member of the High Council of the Rebel Alliance, frowned down at the screen displaying the flickering vid feed of her lost husband in the room adjacent to the high security—or as high security as their current base could afford them—cell in which he was being held. She had been stood there for at least ten minutes, hovering, waiting, and in all of that time, Anakin had not so much as twitched—so much so that she might have been fooled into thinking that she was looking at a still image if not for the rise and fall of his chest and the occasional blink. It was so unlike him—her restless husband, always on the move, but who had always come back to her until the day that he didn't—that it made her eyes burn with the effort to hold back tears. This was wrong, so wrong—

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I'm sure” she said once she was sure she could bite back the sharp reply that was on the tip of her tongue that the man beside her didn't at all deserve. Of course she was sure. How could she not be sure, when this was her husband—the man she loved with all the force of a thousand stars—at stake? She had to.

“You don't have to, Padmé.” Stood beside her, arms folded over his chest, and tired blue eyes fixed as unrelentingly on Anakin's frozen figure as her own, Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed, his mouth curved downwards in an unhappy line. Grief had aged him badly since the horrors of Order 66 and the beginnings of Palpatine's Empire. There were new lines around his eyes, and his auburn hair was fast turning white, but the change over those years was not nearly as stark as that which had been wrought upon him over the past few days. He looked raw and worn down, no matter how he tried to disguise it with his regular stoicism, as if he was on the verge of being swallowed by despair. Ever since the Empire had come for him on his last mission. Ever since they had managed to capture the Emperor's enforcer, Darth Vader.

Vader. Lord Vader. The name sent a shiver of horror through her, but not for the reasons that it once had. Before, she had known him simply as the latest in what seemed to be Darth Sidious' ever replenishing supply of Sith apprentices, and one of the most troubling additions to the Empire's ranks. Robed and masked entirely in black, without even the slightest indication to what lay beneath his impenetrable disguise, he had been a complete unknown to all but Palpatine himself—Empire and Rebellion alike—save for the brutal efficiency with which he carried out his duties. They had watched the Emperor's transmission introducing him to the Galaxy—her and Obi-Wan and Bail, while Luke and Leia slept soundly in their cribs watched over by Threepio and Artoo—from their bunker about a year after the Empire was formed. Padmé remembered seeing him, standing tall and motionless, three steps behind his master, and had felt a frisson of fear and misery run through her that she hadn't quite understood at the time.

She understood now. Oh Force, she thought as the image of Anakin, swamped in black robes and strapped, unconscious, to a gurney, and Obi-Wan's anguished look as he gasped out “he doesn't remember us; he doesn't even remember who he is”, swam through her mind. Oh Force, she understood now.

“Yes, I do,” she said, with a nod that looked far more decisive than she felt. She clutched the pile of warm cloaks and blankets that she had brought with her tight to her chest. Anakin had always hated the cold, and she couldn't bear the thought of him all alone in that cell without at least making sure he was as comfortable as possible. “He's my husband. I want to see him.”

She wanted to see him ever since they had brought him off the ship, ever since she had been dragged away from Coruscant by a harried Obi-Wan and Bail, crying and begging for them to take her back, that they needed to find Anakin, they couldn't leave him there. Anakin who she had last seen standing to the right of the Chancellor during the meeting of the Delegation of the 2000, hands bundled into the voluminous sleeves of his Jedi robes and not quite able to meet her eyes. Who had been sent by the Council to report to Palpatine the day of Order 66, and had never been seen since.

Until now.

“Padmé, he tried to attack me when I went to talk to him,” Obi-Wan reminded her grimly. “Ahsoka too. He doesn't remember any of us. All he knows is what Sidious has made him believe. What if he hurts you?”

Padmé shook his head.

“He won't hurt me” she whispered. He wouldn't hurt her. Anakin would never— But she didn't think he could ever have tried to hurt Obi-Wan either. Or Ahsoka. But he didn't remember any of them, because Sidious had taken him and forced him to forget everything, turned him into his weapon— She was shaking, full of rage and grief, but she pushed them both down. It was alright now. It would have to be alright. He was with the Rebellion now and they would heal him of whatever vile Sith had done to him and then he could meet their two precious children and everything would be alright—

“Padmé.” She thought, faintly, that Obi-Wan had managed to hone saying her name in a tone of utmost exasperation and frustration to a fine art. No doubt Anakin had given him a great deal of practice in the past. “He's not the Anakin we know. Not anymore.”

This time, it took a great deal more effort for her to swallow her harsh retort. Obi-Wan had given up hope a long time ago—the night of Order 66 when his bond to Anakin had snapped. He had thought him dead, and blamed himself for it—the Council had pushed him into spying on Palpatine, he had said, and he was sure that Anakin had discovered the man's secret and been killed for it. She remembered how he had looked, blurred through her tears as they rushed through hyperspace away from Coruscant—dishevelled and worn, the telltale signs of his battle with Grievous burnt into his Jedi robes, and a haunted look in his eyes, misted up with tears that he refused to let fall. He had come back from his last visit to Anakin's cell much the same, convinced that his old padawan had died with whatever it was that Palpatine had put him through, that what was left was nothing but a shell of the man he had loved as a brother.

(It still hadn't stopped him from abruptly ending a call with Yoda when the old Jedi Grandmaster had suggested “lost to the Dark, young Skywalker is; let him go, you should”.)

“I don't believe that,” she said. She had never believed Anakin to be dead. Refused to believe it, told Luke and Leia all sorts of stories about their brave and dashing father that she saw so much of in each of them, hoping beyond hope that one day he would be there to share his own stories with them. She wasn't about to give up now, when he was here—finally here, in front of her, no matter how changed, and no matter what Jedi platitudes about letting go she heard. “We can save him. I know we can.”

She turned her pleading gaze to Obi-Wan, but he refused to meet her eyes. He was still staring at the screen, and though his expression was blank, she could see the longing in his gaze—longing and fear. Fear that he would get his hopes up when nothing could be done. Fear that she would get hurt trying. Padmé sighed sadly. Obi-Wan may have given up hope, but she wasn't about to let him fall into despair.

“Obi-Wan, you'll be here the whole time,” she said, softly, soothingly. “I have faith that you'll protect me, if need be.”

Obi-Wan scowled, finally turning to look at her, but there was a hint of something gentle and fond beneath it.

“The pair of you will be the death of me” he sighed. It was barely a ghost of how he had been before, when they had all been together and happy and none of them had been brainwashed into becoming a Sith, but it was familiar enough that Padmé couldn't help but send him a watery smile.

“Please, Obi-Wan, I'm ready.”

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan nodded.

“I'll be just on the other side of the door.”

Despite her words, Padmé's heart felt like it might burst out of her chest as she stepped into Anakin's cell, the pneumatic hiss of the door closing behind her reverberating in her ears like a threat. She was not afraid. At least, she was not afraid of the figure sitting, head bowed, on the little cot in front of her—he had not attacked any of his visitors since the two Jedi; indeed, had barely acknowledged them, enough so that the High Council had deemed it as safe as it would ever be for her to see him—but she was afraid of what would happen next. Of what she would learn from this meeting. Of looking into her husband's eyes and finding him unrecognisable. But Padmé was never one to shy away from things that made her afraid, and so she took a deep breath, and murmured:—

“Anakin.”

No response.

“I brought these.” She gestured to the robes and blankets in her arms. “I thought you might be cold.”

That got a reaction from him. Slowly, jerkily, as if his head were being lifted up by a string, he turned his face towards her. The sight of him made her want to scream—scream and cry and hold him in her arms and never let go. He looked sick and gaunt, and the change from golden tan to waxy white looked even more stark under the bright lights of the cell, the circles under his eyes dark like bruises. And his eyes, oh his eyes. The sparkling blue that she remembered—had loved and missed so much for all that she saw it every day in the face of their son—had been replaced with the same horrible yellow that she had seen deep set in the sunken face of Emperor Palpatine, gleaming cruelly under the shadow of his hood, during Empire Day transmissions. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Anakin's eyes had always been so expressive, brimming with love and joy and fear and anger and grief, as if he felt too much and too deeply to keep it all inside. It was one of the things that she loved about him. Now, however, he turned those sickly eyes to her and she saw nothing in them but blankness. For the first time in his life, Anakin Skywalker looked upon her and he felt nothing.

Padmé swallowed, fighting back the urge to cry. She wanted to run to him, bury her fingers in his hair and press her lips to his as she used to do each time he came home to her from the war, but, with what felt like a monumental effort, she pushed the desire away. That wasn't what Anakin needed right now, no matter how much she wanted it. Instead, she waited for him to reply, waited for some sort of acknowledgement—anything to indicate what she should do, what she should say.

None came.

She sighed. Stepping forward, she leaned down and placed the pile of clothes next to him on the bed, trying to keep her heart from shattering into a thousand pieces at the tiny flinch he gave as she approached him. Carefully, so as not to startle him, she pulled back, coming to a stop once she was far enough away for him to relax minutely. Hot tears burnt at her eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, wishing that her voice did not sound so shaky, so thick with emotion. Anakin had always had a way of bringing out absolute honesty in her—even when she didn't even know she was trying to hide something—and now, confronted with her husband whom she hadn't seen in years, and who had spent every day of those long years suffering under the man who had enslaved the entire Galaxy to his will, all her politician's training, all her masks and airs had fled her. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't have done a thing to hide her feelings from him.

Anakin frowned.

“You are Padmé Amidala,” he answered tonelessly. His voice was as dead and as flat as the look in his eyes. He sounded hoarse and tired, like he used to after waking up from a particularly bad nightmare. Like he had when he had when he had dreamt of her death in childbirth, only a week before he had disappeared, before she had run and left him— “One of the founders of the Rebellion.”

“That's right,” she said, with a nod that she wasn't sure was meant to encourage him or herself. “Do you— Is there anything else you remember about me?”

She knew it would be no. She knew he remembered nothing. But she wanted so badly for him to remember at least something of her. Wanted to know that Sidious hadn't taken everything from him. No matter what she wanted, though, she knew what his answer would be. Knew it and feared it.

“I understand that it's more usual for an interrogator to ask their prisoner for information,” Anakin replied. He tilted his head to the side, the expression on his face somewhere between confused and wary. “Not questions about themselves.”

He didn't sound like Anakin. Or rather, he sounded like Anakin—his voice sounded like Anakin, but the words, said in that flat, dull tone— It was wrong, all wrong. Oh my love, Padmé thought. My love, what has that monster done to you?

“I'm not interrogating you, Anakin” she said. She fought keep her voice steady and calm, even as she wanted nothing more than to burst into tears. Anakin's frown deepened, a look of suspicion flitting across his face.

“Why does everyone keep calling me that?” he asked, and for the first time, there seemed to be a hint of something else in his flat tone, a hint of uncertainty, of apprehension. His hands twitched, like he wanted to twist his fingers together like he used to do beneath the sleeves of his Jedi robes when he was nervous. Instead, he balled them tight into fists.

Padmé sent him a watery smile.

“It's your name, Ani.”

My Ani, she thought, watching him twitch oddly at the contraction of his name, turning sharply away. Her Ani who didn't even remember his own name. Oh, what was she going to do. How could she help him when he remembered nothing—nothing about his friends, nothing about her, nothing about himself—and they didn't even know what it was that Palpatine had done to him to cause this? She felt despair rushing in on her like a shark that had scented blood in the water, but she pushed back against it. She couldn't given in now. For Anakin's sake, she couldn't give up hope.

“How much has Obi-Wan told you?” she asked carefully. It was a risk mentioning Obi-Wan—a Jedi, a man he had ostensibly been sent to kill before the Rebellion had captured him—but she needed to know how much he had actually taken in.

Yellow eyes flicked back to her, the wariness and suspicion turning his expression even more closed off and guarded than it had been before.

“He told me I was once his Jedi apprentice,” he replied. “But I suppose you'll claim that I was your closest friend in the Senate. Or have you had the chance to corroborate your stories since Kenobi's last visit?”

The harshness of his words—as much as their content—made it all the harder to hold back her tears. Anakin had hardly ever spoken to her like that, was hardly ever sharp with her. Around her, perhaps, when he was particularly upset or frustrated, but rarely with her. It was yet another reminder of what had been done to him—the changes Sidious had forced upon him, as if he were nothing but a droid to be reprogrammed according to an owner's desire. Well, she would fix it, she would help him, and she would never let that vile man near him again. But to do that, she would have to get him to believe her, and for him to believe her, she—

“I'm not lying to you,” she insisted. “I promise you. It's Palpatine—Sidious—who has lied to you. You were a Jedi—have been since you were nine years old. Near the end of the war, the Council was concerned about the powers Palpatine had gathered for himself and sent you to report on him. But you— They sent you to his office the day he ordered the Jedi killed and then you disappeared. The Jedi thought you were dead, but he took you and he did something to you and you don't remember it because—”

“No.”

The sharp growl silenced her rambling mid-sentence. Her mouth clicked shut and her eyes widened as Anakin stood abruptly from the bed, his expression as hard as durasteel. Padmé swallowed, a flicker of nervousness fluttering in her stomach that she ruthlessly pushed down. She wondered if Obi-Wan was getting ready to dash into the cell from the other side of the door, afraid that he was about to attack her. But she refused to share that fear. She had never been afraid of Anakin, and she never would.

“No,” Anakin repeated, more softly this time. Instead of starting towards her, he prowled away to the far corner of the cell, back not quite turned to her—just enough to keep her in his line of sight—and hunched in on himself, arms crossed defensively across his chest. It was such a familiar gesture that, despite herself, Padmé couldn't help but feel a sliver of relief at the sight of it. Whatever Sidious had done to him, he hadn't managed to chase every last part of him from his mind. “My master warned me about this,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “He told me that you would try to deceive me, turn me against him—”

“He's the one deceiving you!,” she cried, trying to ignore worm of uneasiness in her stomach at the thought of the Emperor warning her husband against the Jedi and the Rebellion—or perhaps her specifically. If she could just get him to see, just get him to believe— “I don't know what he's done to you but please, Anakin, all we want is to help you. All I want is to help you. But to help you, I need you to believe me—”

She approached him, slowly, cautiously, as one might a wounded animal. His gaze fixed on her the whole way, wary, unrelenting, but he did not move, frozen to the spot. She itched to reach out to him, to pull him in and hold him close, but she wrestled the urge down to the depths of her heart.

“Please, Ani,” she begged, barely a whisper. “Please.”

Anakin stared down at her, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flash of blue in those yellow eyes.

“You haven't told me who you are,” he said, after a long moment of silence. His tone was guarded, cautious, just as quiet as her own. “Who you were to me. If what you say is true, what did I mean to you?”

Everything, Padmé thought. You meant everything to me. You mean everything to me. You and Luke and Leia. And one day, I'll be able to have them meet their father and you'll mean everything to them too. Her heart, too full of love and fear and hope and despair, ached in her chest, snatching up all her words before they could reach her mouth. How could she say all of this to him? How could she say any of this to him, when he barely believed she was telling him the truth about his name?

“You're—”

She faltered, unsure what to do. Would it be too much for him, finding out that he was married to a woman he didn't even remember? But what could she say? She couldn't lie to him—wouldn't lie to him. She wanted him to trust her again, like he used to before everything had gone so wrong, and how could they ever help him if they too deceived him?

“I'm...I...I'm your wife.”

Anakin froze stock still.

“...What?” he whispered hoarsely.

“It's true.” Padmé could no longer stop herself. She reached out slowly with both hands, making to smooth down his hair—it had always calmed him down after a nightmare; maybe if he accepted the truth, it might soothe him a little now? He gave an odd little jerk at the contact, his tongue darting out nervously to wet his lips, but he didn't pull away, still frozen to the spot, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Please believe me. It's true. I'm your wife—”

“No,” Anakin cut across her again. This time, however, his eyes had not hardened, and he could see the uncertainty creeping into them. His voice shook. “No, you're a liar.”

His hand—the one of durasteel that she had held at their wedding after he lost it to Count Dooku—darted up to snatch her wrist. But instead of shoving her right away, he held her in place, her hand hovering between them, arm extended towards him, as if he could not decide whether to push her aside or pull her closer. Padmé stared into his eyes, vaguely aware that Obi-Wan was probably panicking by now on the other side of the door. She could feel the strength in his grip, well acquainted with what his mechno hand could do. He had been horribly embarrassed when he had managed to crush several of her cups after their wedding, still unused to the amount of force his prosthetic required compared to his flesh hand. If he wanted to, he could tighten his grip now and crush her just as he had those cups, shatter every bone in her wrist. But he did not press down. He didn't even so much as grip hard enough to bruise.

“I'm not,” she cried—really cried, the tears she had been holding back starting to trickle down her cheeks. “I swear to you—”

“You didn't corroborate your stories after all,” Anakin retorted. “I could hardly have been a Jedi and a husband.”

Padmé shook her head, blinking heavily to keep the tears from blurring her vision. It would be alright, she told herself. She could persuade him. His voice was not nearly so certain as his words, and if she could just explain properly—

“You broke the Code to marry me,” she said. “We kept it secret, so you could stay as a Jedi and I could keep serving in the Senate until the war was over—”

“How convenient” Anakin returned, perhaps not as derisively as he had intended. He still hadn't let go of her wrist.

Padmé shook her head again, more insistently this time. She reached once more with her free hand to cradle his cheek in his palm.

“Please, Anakin, please. I love you. I love—”

“No!” With a cry, Anakin jerked backwards. The durasteel fingers wrapped about her wrist pulled away. “No! You—”

But words seemed to be beyond him. He staggered back, hand shooting out to steady himself against the wall, but it wasn't enough. His legs failed him, and he sank down to the floor, forehead pressed to his knees, trembling violently.

“This isn't—,” he hissed. “You can't— It's a trick. It's a trick—”

His hands fisted in his hair, so tight that Padmé thought he might tear clumps of it out. She rushed to his side, wiping her tears away furiously with her sleeve. She had pushed him too far. It was too much for him—too much at once.

“Padmé.”

Anakin's head shot up just as Padmé turned around to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, trying to remain impassive and failing miserably. She caught a flurry of movement in the corner of her eyes—Anakin had forced himself to stand back up, pressed up against the wall. He looked like a cornered loth-wolf, hunched in on himself, ready to spring, his yellow eyes wide and feral.

“It's alright,” Obi-Wan soothed, holding up the palms of his hands to show him he wasn't armed. Despite the calmness of his tone, Padmé could hear the agony beneath his words. “I won't hurt you. We will leave you to rest now.”

He turned a significant glance towards her, and Padmé could do nothing but nod, for all that she wanted to stay. She didn't want to overwhelm Anakin any more than she had already. Swallowing thickly, she forced down her tears, turning to meet her husband's unnatural yellow eyes with her own glistening brown.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

She made it to the other side of the door before she broke down in tears.

(Later, when she came to check on him to find him curled up in the warm robe she'd brought him, she cried for very different reasons).

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ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing · 3 years

Text

Do You Trust Me? (04 Whumptober 2021)

Prompt: "do you trust me?"/taken hostage/pushed

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Major Character Death

Summary:

“Do you trust me?”

Obi-Wan looked up sharply to look at the man across from him.

“I trusted Anakin Skywalker. You are not him.”

“Do you trust me?”

Obi-Wan looked up sharply to look at the man across from him.

“I trusted Anakin Skywalker. You are not him.”

“But I am,” Vadar argued, “Just because you didn’t know about the considerable overlap doesn’t mean that I am not him.”

“And whose fault is that?” Obi-Wan snarled back at him angrily.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been such a fool but he supposed he deserved it for breaking his own vows so thoroughly. From experience, he should have known that Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t made for love. He’d failed at it so many times and yet here he was.

Standing on the edge of a cliff once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead as if he wouldn’t lose balance and tumble over the edge.

Except this time he had really done it.

Darth Vadar, the most feared Sith in the galaxy, who’d wrought hundreds of millions of deaths. Too many to be able to feasibly count.

“Obi-Wan please I don’t have time to argue with you,” Vadar said and it almost sounded as if he were pleading, “My master will be here any minute and we need to get out of here before that happens. I’ve set the ship to self-destruct and it will take us with it if we don’t leave.”

“I think I might rather die than escape with a liar and a Sith,” Obi-Wan told him simply.

“You- you can’t die,” Vadar almost sounded as if he were choking on the words, “Please you can’t. You have to believe me when I say I never meant to trick you. I was just afraid-.”

“That I would change my mind?” Obi-Wan asked sharply, “That I wouldn’t want to continue? That I wouldn’t accept that you are a monster? Was that what you were afraid of Vadar?”

Vadar flinched like he’d been slapped.

“That you would stop saying my name,” Vadar said quietly.

“What?”

Obi-Wan had expected a lot of answers but that hadn’t been it.

“No one has said my name since I was a child,” Vadar looked choked up, “Since my mother was still alive. I just wanted to keep hearing my name. I love you. It always sounded so perfect when you said it.”

“Is that something you think you deserve?” Obi-Wan finally asked, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “You’ve killed hundreds of millions of people. Lied to someone you claimed to love. Do you really feel as though you deserve comfort?”

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve or not,” Vadar told him firmly, “Please Obi-Wan, we’ve got to go. We’ll die if we stay.”

“Leave and- and what?” Obi-Wan was nearly hysterical, “Tell the council I’ve been kriffing a karking Separatist leader? A Sith? Tell them I’ve broken the rules by being attached to someone who would surely stab me in the back the moment it was convenient?”

“Tell them that I tricked you. Tell them you never loved me. Tell them- force, tell them that I forced you, I don’t care,” Vadar told him and Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the way tears had started gathering in the man’s eyes, “Just live to tell them something.”

“You say that as if it wasn’t true,” Obi-Wan told him softly, “As if that wasn’t what you intended.”

“It wasn’t,” Vadar choked out, and then tears were falling down his face, “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to be loved. I’m sorry. I would have never if I- I would have never gone to you if I’d realized you wouldn’t be able to love me.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth but then he was being tugged forward.

“We’re running out of time,” Vadar told him as he force him through the hallways, “We need to go.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be dragged across the ship towards the escape pods. He felt hollowed out by Vadar’s words, unable to come up with a reasonable response.

“You said that no matter what I did in my past it was my past,” Vadar told him through tears as they moved quickly through the halls, “That you could love me despite my misdeeds. I should have realized that it wouldn’t extend to what I had done. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone tells me that it’s dark,” the man had told him, looking down to where their hands were connected.

Obi-Wan thought about it for a minute. His force presence wasn’t necessarily dark, but he could see how people would think that. It seemed more...lonely, perhaps a bit shattered. Like someone who’d had the rug pulled out from under them one too many times and didn’t know how to trust someone. It was the force presence of a man who was still just as scared as he’d been as a child but Obi-Wan didn’t know how to explain that to him.

“It’s not dark,” he said finally, slowly as he meticulously gathered his thoughts into words, “Don’t think me rude but I’d say it’s a perhaps a bit broken, like something hurt you and left it a bit jagged around the edges. But it’s not dark, it’s- well the only thing I think I could compare it to that would even come close would be a supernova.”

“The way you surround it,” the man had told him, “It’s makes everything feel so much better. Is there any way I might be able to do that?”

Obi-Wan smiled apologetically, “Not without years of training I’m afraid.”

It hurt to watch the beautiful face of that man fall in disappointment. He seemed to think about Obi-Wan’s answer and then he was looking up at him through his lashes.

“Then- then do you think you could do it again?” he asked hesitantly, “It- it just feels so nice. You make everything so quiet.”

---

“Please, please more,” Anakin begged under Obi-Wan, face flushed and eyes rolled up into his head.

Obi-Wan obliged, starting to thrust into him harder, reveling in the way the man accepted him so completely into his body and his mind.

Their signatures were tangled so thoroughly it was impossible to tell where one began and one ended and then Anakin was gasping, back arching up as he came. Obi-Wan followed closely, letting out a moan, and then before he could stop himself-

“I love you,” Obi-Wan moaned out.

Then he panicked as Anakin froze underneath him.

“Oh, oh shit I’m so-.” Obi-Wan began to apologize but was stopped by the way Anakin let out a sob, burying his head into Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Do you mean that?” he asked between choked breaths, “Please say you mean it.”

Obi-Wan felt his heart break at the way his lover had reacted.

“I mean it,” Obi-Wan promised, running his hands through Anakin’s hair.

“I love you too,” Anakin cried, “Say it again. Please say it again. Say my name.”

Obi-Wan kissed the top of his head and leaned next to his ear, “I love you Anakin.”

Anakin started to cry even harder, entire body shaking as he pressed as close as he could to Obi-Wan while still being at the awkward angle they were in.

“Even if I’ve done things that are unforgivable? Even if I had to do things I didn’t want to? I- I didn’t think anyone could love me after what I’ve done,” Anakin sobbed.

“Nothing is unforgivable,” Obi-Wan promised him with a kiss, “I love you Anakin and I forgive you. I want you regardless of what you’ve done. I know that you seemed to be a mercenary of some kind. I still love you.”

Anakin couldn’t stop the tears as he clutched to his lover. The only man he’d ever let touch him. The only person who had ever wanted to touch him. The man who said that he loved him even after he’d made so many mistakes.

“I thought you were a mercenary,” Obi-Wan told him stiffly but it hurt to say, more than he would have liked, “I thought your body count was in the hundreds, not nearly a billion people. How could you think that was the same thing?”

“You said that because the man who took me in made me that it wasn’t my fault,” Anakin choked out, stopping at the door to an escape pad and jabbing his fingers on the keypad, “You said I was innocent.”

Obi-Wan had. Obi-Wan knew what Anakin had told him. Sidious was the man who had paid for him and his mother and forced Anakin on the path he was on. He’d killed Anakin’s mother and forced him into this life.

But Obi-Wan hadn’t known it was Sidious. He thought Anakin had still been a slave, although one with more freedom than most. He thought Sidious was a slave owner, perhaps a mob boss of some sort- not, not the Sith who had orchestrated the war.

The door to the escape pod opened and then Obi-Wan was being pushed into it by a desperate Vadar. Obi-Wan stepped back to make room for him but the door shut in front of him and he was staring at Vadar through the transparisteel with a confused expression.

“Vadar what are you doing?”

Vadar put his hands on the transparisteel and gave Obi-Wan a wet smile.

“I love you Obi-Wan,” he told him, “You made me want to be a better person. So I’ve been collecting evidence against Palpatine. I’ve got enough to make a case. It’s been hardwired into the escape pod.”

“Palpatine?” Obi-Wan’s voice rose in disbelief, “The kriffing chancellor is the Sith in the senate?”

“Was,” Vadar corrected, “This is where he dies. This is where all the Sith die. All of them have boarded the ship. They think I’ve found a way to end the war. And I guess in a way I have.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, “You don’t have to die with them Vadar.”

More tears fell down the man’s face, “I do. They are here and I need to answer for my own sins. Besides, there’s nothing left for me without you.”

Obi-Wan’s entire body went cold as he realized what Vadar’s plan was.

“You don’t have to,” Obi-Wan told him firmly, “Please Vadar! We can figure things out!”

He couldn’t die like this. It didn’t matter how angry Obi-Wan was, he couldn’t just shut off the way he-.

“I love you Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried, “I love you. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Anakin leaned his head on the clear door, “Can you say that again, please? Hearing that was the best thing that ever happened. I want to hear it again.”

“Anakin I love you,” Obi-Wan said again, “Please listen to me-.”

“It’s okay,” Anakin looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, expression broken, “You don’t have to try to convince me to leave. Just lying and saying that you loved me was enough Obi-Wan. I know you don’t anymore but I still wanted to hear it so bad. I love you too.”

“I’m not lying,” Obi-Wan felt his own tears start, “Please I’m sorry. I was angry. I love you Anakin Skywalker. Please don’t leave me.”

“I love you too,” Anakin nodded and then he hit a button on the side of the pod and Obi-Wan’s pod was being launched, secondary doors closing Anakin in the ship as Palpatine, Dooku, and their associates walked in the room.

Obi-Wan was thrown to one side of the pod as the ship blew, pieces of it smacking into the pod and sending him flying around in the small space.

Hours later, when the Jedi found him, bringing the pod into one of their ships, Obi-Wan played the recordings for them.

Anakin Skywalker had saved the galaxy. He’d more than righted all his wrongs.

And he’d died thinking Obi-Wan couldn’t love him.

#whumptober2021 #no.4 #do you trust me?#star wars #fic #major character death #nsfwhump #obikin #obikin fanfiction #musicsoul1982

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

18 obikin!! Amnesia fics are super fun 🍆

18. One of them wakes up with amnesia (Option A because two people sent in this prompt number and I liked both ideas I saw for it enough to not want to pick) this involves an Obi-Wan that got deaged as well as lost his memories so he's Phantom Menace Obi-Wan. no i will not be explaining. hand wavey drabble fic writing.

The man has not stopped staring, but something in his intense gaze makes Obi-Wan feel safe. Almost. Well. On edge, yes, but. Protected. He has the strange feeling that he’d rather be under this man’s stare than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.

But he knows he’s never seen this man before in his life, the same way that he knows he’s twenty-five and that Qui-Gon Jinn is his Master, that he’s a Jedi knight-in-training, that he hates teas with mint leaves in them, that he’ll never say no to a drink with Quinlan, that--well.

He supposes none of that stuff could be true anymore. Vokra Che, who’s a grown and certified healer master now, had told him what had happened. An older version of himself had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. The closest translation they could find to the runes on the object was that it would transform the user back to their most balanced state. Obi-Wan’s had, apparently, been at the age of twenty-five. He hadn’t recognized the name Anakin Skywalker. He had never been to Naboo.

He throws the rest of his drink back and waves to the bartender to pour him another. He’d gone straight here from the Halls of Healing. He’d had a shadow the entire way, but the man has yet to try to talk to him at all. It’s infuriating.

His Padawan braid swings into his field of vision for a second. He tosses it over his shoulder. He’d been told. Qui-Gon had died. Obi-Wan wants to not think about it at all.

There’s a brush of a Force presence that’s both familiar and completely foreign next to him. The man has finally moved to his side. Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks at his continued reticence, the way he’s observing him but not talking to him. It just simply won’t do, but Obi-Wan isn’t feeling his kindest. He doesn’t want whatever this man is offering him with his silent, dour stares and his suffocating Force signature that keeps trying to tangle itself with Obi-Wan’s own. It’s rude is what it is.

He waves down the bartender and orders a drink for the man. “If you got mint, put it in,” he tells the woman who raises an eyebrow but shrugs, one pair of her arms busy with the drink. When she gives it to him he slides it to the man next to him without even looking at him.

“What--” the man asks. “I don’t--”

“You do tonight,” Obi-Wan says bracingly, throwing back half of his own drink. “We’ve both just lost our Masters, haven’t we?”

The man beside him flinches as if Obi-Wan had skewered him with his lightsaber.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan lolls his head to the side to look at the man threw half-closed eyes. “My padawan.”

“Anakin,” the man says so quietly it’s almost lost to the noise of the bar. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, yeah.”

Obi-Wan takes a drink reflexively, humming in disbelief. “You don’t look like it,” he says consideringly. At Anakin’s confused look, he elaborates. “You don’t look like you could have ever been a Padawan.”

The man pulls himself up, face darkening at the perceived slight. It’s almost too easy to rile him up, but now that he has, Obi-Wan finds he has no interest in fighting this man. Quite the opposite, really. That’s...something. He can’t tell if that emotion comes from him now or the older version of him.

Either way, Obi-Wan has no desire to stand in the way of whatever storm this Anakin is building up in his head, so he turns to face him completely and pushes both hands into his blond hair, raking down the scalp gently before collecting the strands into a poor imitation of the Padawan ponytail. “That’s better, I suppose. The hair threw me off.” He lets go slowly, making sure to tug at one of the strands at the last second.

Anakin has a very strange look on his face, but he��s definitely not angry anymore. He’s even shielding much more tightly now. Obi-Wan smirks into his glass as he takes a sip. He definitely remembers that trick.

“Do you know who cut it?” he asks, catching sight of the end of his braid again. The drinks are going to his head much more quickly than he had intended. Must be all the trauma his body has gone through in the past few days. “My braid.”

“I.” Anakin stutters, caught off guard. “You did.”

Obi-Wan feels like laughing but also a bit like crying. There’s a terrifying emotion rearing its head in his chest. It threatens to swallow him whole. “Well, I suppose I never liked to stand on ceremony.”

“You cut your braid in the fresher and then called me in and braided mine,” Anakin says distantly, as if caught up in the memory. “You wouldn’t let me hold it. I thought you were so mean. But I understood at my Knighting Ceremony. It was a part of me in my hand, a...starmap of all the places I’d been and the things I’d learned during my training. And there was only one person I wanted to give it to in the whole galaxy.”

“Did you?” He asks, taking a sip to hide how important the question is, how devastating the answer could be.

“Well. Yeah. But I guess I don’t know if you kept it,” Anakin cuts his eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and runs his fingers up the long stem of his drink.

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh. “He definitely did.”

The other man’s face settles into a frown. “You don’t know that. You’re not him.”

“I’m enough of him. I’ve got--some feelings. In my head. Impressions.”

“Of me?”

“Of how he felt about you.”

Anakin’s eyes widen and then narrow with a sudden intensity that makes Obi-Wan want to shiver. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. His hold on the delicate glass in his hand becomes dangerously tight as he leans forward into Obi-Wan’s space, as if he can’t get close enough to him.

“What do you feel when you look at me?” he asks almost breathlessly. Obi-Wan blinks, trying to figure out if he’s being seduced or not. It’s sort of working. It’s all that focus, directly on him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if that’s how the night ended. But sleeping with his former padawan who he can’t remember right now doesn’t seem like the best decision he could make.

But Anakin had liked it when Obi-Wan tugged at his hair. He’d arched closer to him. And now, the distance between them has been eaten away until they’re almost pressed chest to shoulder.

“Safe,” he decides to say, even though the word feels too small. “Sad,” which is mostly true but also an oversimplification. It’s a sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness, mixed with acceptance and resignation. “Warm,” because even after being denied entry to Obi-Wan’s mind, Anakin’s force presence has curled around Obi-Wan’s like some sort of krayt dragon, content to wait and guard and treasure. He leans forward, just until his mouth brushes against the skin of Anakin’s ear. “Coveted.”

Anakin definitely shifts at that, and when Obi-Wan pulls back enough to see his face, his pupils are blown wide.

Swallowing a grin, Obi-Wan swallows the rest of his drink in one go. “Drink up,” he tells Anakin in his most demanding tone, reaching into his pockets to pull out his older self’s credits to settle the tab. “I want to go.”

Anakin obeys immediately, making a face at the taste.

They’re out in the street within a few minutes, Anakin smacking his lips as if still trying to rid himself of the flavor. “I just don’t know why you had to order me that,” he complains, falling into step on Obi-Wan’s right.

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the very unsanitary wall of the building, spreading his legs wide enough so that Anakin can come in between them. The man doesn’t seem to notice anything different, just steps a bit closer as a crowd of loud party-goers makes their way past them.

“I wanted to see if I liked mint,” Obi-Wan shrugs, raising his hand to rest on the skin of Anakin’s neck. He can feel the way his pulse is beating incredibly fast.

“Why would my drink help you with--”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He commends his older self for being able to teach this idiot anything, even though he seems to have skipped over important lessons like Recognizing When You’re Being Flirted With.

Before Anakin can finish the thought, Obi-Wan twists his other hand in Anakin’s robes and pulls him forward until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “May I kiss you?” he asks because it’s only polite to.

Anakin’s eyes widen and then fall shut as he gives a little nod, finally stepping forward until their bodies are pressed completely together.

At least someone, although he doubts it was the older Obi-Wan, taught Anakin how to kiss. Obi-Wan’s toes curl in his boots as Anakin takes control of the action, moving his hands so one’s pressing against the wall behind them and one’s running up his scalp. Obi-Wan takes his time licking into Anakin’s mouth, allowing Anakin to explore him in return. One of them moans, which seems like as good a time as any to break the kiss.

“Well?” Anakin pants, diving in to place a short kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. “What do you think?”

The short answer is that Obi-Wan isn’t. He noses back towards Anakin’s mouth hopefully, sliding his hand down from his neck to rest on his hip.

“About mint,” Anakin elaborates when Obi-Wan doesn’t respond immediately.

“Inconclusive. Need more data,” Obi-Wan tries to kiss him but Anakin’s smiling too hard.

“Then next time you can get the awful drink, and you can get me the Alderaan Sunset,” Anakin is complaining, but he’s laughing too and that’s nice. Obi-Wan thinks that making Anakin Skywalker laugh is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, and he thinks his older self would agree, if the warmth sparking up in his very soul means anything at all.

#asks #my fics #writing #tarantasina #i'm sure eventually they get obi-wan back to normal and he's just sooooo embarrassed that he got drunk and decided to seduce anakin #but like it worked out #anakin makes fun of him too until obi-wan remembers that he kissed back #prompt fill

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags.

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!”

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence.

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered.

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach.

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.”

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end.

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit.

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them.

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out.

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing.

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it.

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing.

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow.

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I have to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it.

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know.

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply.

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...”

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it.

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance”

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply.

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch.

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away.

----

Part VIII

#star wars #potentially triggering #self harm #attempted suicide #blood #graphic depictions of injury #violence #character is not actually suicidal but is severely divorced from reality due to space wizard plot device #suicidal misunderstanding au #my au #star wars au no 27 #angst #obi wan kenobi needs a hug #KRIFF this was intense to write #i need a hug #jeez #story was supposed to go emotional catharsis Healing TRAUMA healing Emotional Catharsis but i may have played myself with the middle bit #hope you enjoy :)#or at least suffer with me

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sirikenobi12 · 3 years

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This Capt' goes down with her Ship

I’m honestly amazed at how many messages I receive both here and on Twitter that ask me why I ship Obi-Wan with Siri Tachi over Satine Kryze. I guess I’m mostly amazed because I can’t believe people actually care enough to take the time to message me about my character preferences, that’s just really fascinating to me.

But, since I’m getting tired of writing this out in individual messages I thought perhaps a blog would be a good idea so that way I can just reference/link them to it later - it’ll be much easier. So, bear with me while I get a little self indulgent (and Satine stans please don’t come at me, I will explain below how I really have nothing against Obitine).

This is going to be really long, and I’m not expecting anyone to actually read this, but here we go!

I’ll begin by answering questions that are sitting in my inbox:

1. Who the hell is Siri Tachi?? For those who don’t know the character of Siri Tachi, she was a female Jedi who was two years younger than Obi-Wan. She was originally from the Legends young reader book series Jedi Apprentice and Jedi Quest (written by Jude Watson). She was in many of the same Padawan classes as Obi-Wan even though she was two years his junior because of her advanced skills. She could hold her own against him in a lightsaber duel even as they grew up. She was chosen as an apprentice to Jedi Council Member Adi Gallia at age 11 which was very impressive given how young she was and the fact that a Council Member chose her.

(I don’t know why she looks like Brittany Spears in this drawing, not my fave)

She did have a hard time fitting in with her peers when she was younger though because she was so focused on her career as a Jedi which didn’t always make her the friendliest person to be around (it was really her masking her insecurities) and it was only after she was paired on several missions with Obi-Wan that they even became friends.

She and Obi-Wan over the years grew very close and eventually discovered their feelings had crossed the line from friends to something more while on a mission when they were older Padawans (Obi was 18). They had been separated from their masters and nearly died while on that mission. So, before they “died” they each confessed their love to the other, but when it turned out they didn’t actually die they decided they’d wait and figure out what their relationship actually meant once the mission was over - putting duty above their feelings. But Qui-Gon and Yoda intervene before the two of them could have the conversation and the Masters reminded Obi-Wan of his dedication to the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan argued that he and Siri would be able to find a way to be together while still being active Jedi, that maybe they could be an exception to the rule or even change the rule entirely. Both he and Siri did end up choosing their commitment to the Jedi over their relationship in the end, because each of them realized they’d regret not being Jedi more than anything, but it did put a strain on their friendship for many years.

At 23 Siri was secretly knighted and her first solo mission was sent undercover to infiltrate and take down a huge pirate slaver operation and she spent 4 years on that mission, all on her own with limited communication with the Council.

In order to do this she had to pretend to have a falling out with her Master and “leave” the Order entirely, everyone thought she had fallen to the dark side. Obi-Wan was devastated, and he spent several months looking for her because he refused to believe she’d actually fall. It was also clear that he was heartbroken that she left, especially knowing what they had given up in order to be Jedi. Upon ending the mission she returned to the Jedi and was then often sent on other undercover missions throughout the rest of her career (including one where she and Obi-Wan had to play a royal married couple which was super cute). Her actually being a Jedi Shadow is not official and is a fanfiction creation - but, it’s one that I 100% headcanon because it just makes sense.

Siri was very different when she returned from her long undercover mission, she had lived as a pirate for 4 years and so she was not as uptight and rule bound as she had been in her youth. She began to wear tight unisuits/flight suits instead of the traditional Jedi tunics and she had grown to be a bit more irreverent - even showing up late to Jedi Council summons. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind the change and the two became a formidable pair as Knights and they were sent together (with their Padawans who hated one another) on several missions.

Obi-Wan and Siri were always written as being equals, never one more powerful than the other. They often shared flirtatious banter (nothing new for Obi-Wan) and they seemed very much in sync on missions that it was clear they shared some kind of bond. They never seemed to let their failed romance stand between them and their duty, and only brought it up once more as adults to admit that they still loved each other, but were content to just be friends because it would be selfish of them to turn their backs on the Jedi simply for their love. Then upon Siri’s untimely death (she of course died in his arms) she told him that she’d always be with him. And he nearly fell to the dark side due to his anger, but stopped himself from killing the man who was responsible for Siri’s death because he knew she’d not want him to fall because of her.

In canon there isn’t much about her (yet), except that Siri is said to be the girl Obi-Wan would hold hands with under the table during mid-day meals which suggests that they had a bit of a secret affair/flirtation for many years.

2. Why don’t you like Satine? This is a bit of a loaded question because even though I tend to write fics centered more on Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy the character of Satine or that I don’t swoon over their relationship from time to time thanks to some very well written fics ( @mahizli I’m looking your way). I just tend to write Siri more than Satine because I can relate to Siri more as a character, but in truth I also feel Siri and Obi-Wan’s relationship is a bit more well rounded than his and Satine’s

*ducks to avoid things being thrown at her*.

Satine and Obi-Wan have a beautiful love story, don’t get me wrong. But for me personally I am a little sick of the Romeo & Juliette/star crossed lovers angle. And that’s totally what they are - She’s a Mandalorian, He’s a Jedi, it’s a forbidden love not just because of his code, but because their “families” were mortal enemies. And I guess I’m just not super inspired by it. Not to mention that they met as children (apparently only 15 years old according to canon), confessed their undying love for one another after a year of knowing one another in a life or death situation and then pined for each other for the next 20 years until they were reunited...I just have a very hard time finding this story relatable (and hate to say it, plausible). Not that they couldn’t have felt love for one another as teenagers (especially in that situation), but that they still felt that same level of love 20 years later without ever seeing one another...at least with Siri they still had to interact with one another on a regular basis so it would be harder to push those feelings aside.

The other reason I have a hard time writing Satine and Obi-Wan is because the romantic love they seem to have in TCW is written to be very one sided in my opinion. While Obi-Wan clearly cares for her, and admits to having feelings for her at one time it’s only ever Satine who actually seems to want something with him in the current sense. Which honestly makes their relationship feels a bit cringy to me, it doesn’t feel like it’s on equal footing - and makes it seem like Satine is a bit obsessive (I don’t blame her, it is Obi-Wan after all). This is a similar argument I have about Padme’s character, I feel like we’re presented with these incredibly strong women characters who for whatever reason still fall apart when it comes to love...I think it’s a reflection of men trying to write women and it ends up being a bit of a fantasy (the sexy/badass woman who secretly needs a man to save her). So, to sum up - I really do love Satine’s character outside of her relationship with Obi-Wan.

Again, this is just MY interpretation of Satine and Obi-Wan’s relationship...I get other people tend to feel very differently and that’s wonderful!!

I will say, the thing I do like about Obi-Wan and Satine’s relationship and very much appreciate is how it is an opposite parallel to Anakin and Padme’s relationship. And it shows what a Jedi should’ve done - how you can’t have both a commitment to the Jedi Order and a marriage, but you can still care deeply about another person. I do very much appreciate that aspect of their relationship and it’s very well done from that perspective.

3. So, why SiriWan after all these years? Well, I’m drawn to Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship for several reasons, but mostly because they are written as equals/partners (as I had mentioned above), both have moments where you can see the love they hold for one another - their feelings are very much shared and not one sided, but above all it’s not the main defining factor of their relationship. They are Jedi and friends before anything else, and I love that! It may not be as flashy or maybe even as passionate as say Satine or Cody but to me it’s more full and well rounded. I can also see their relationship growing and changing over the years, they aren’t stuck in one place or in the past.

I also tend to find the Jedi culture more fascinating than the Mandalorians. I know, I know, I’m a heretic. That’s not to say, again that I don’t think Satine on her own isn’t fascinating, I just am a little tired of Mandalore’s importance in virtually every aspect of Star Wars these days and I feel like there is only so much you can do with Obi-Wan having feelings for a Mandalorian, where as him navigating a relationship with another Jedi is more interesting. The Jedi are allowed to be intimate with people, contrary to popular belief they are allowed to love, they just can’t become possessive/attached - I feel like two Jedi would have an easier time navigating that than someone who wasn’t raised with that same code. I think Siri and Obi-Wan have more opportunities to have a more realistic and adult relationship and I like writing/exploring that.

The other thing I like about Siri and Obi-Wan specifically is the fact that neither ever really considered leaving the Order for the other. They knew how important being a Jedi was to the other, and I think having a love interest that Obi-Wan didn’t consider leaving for is an important distinction.

Instead he thought they would be able to change the rules/code because he assumed it would be obvious that their love was pure and not an attachment. Now, obviously they both realized later that it was just foolish/young love talking (because I’m sure teenagers have to be extra careful of forming attachments), but what I really adore the concept that Obi-Wan “by the code” Kenobi had loved Siri so much that he’d even remotely consider the idea that he’d want the rules to change for her/them (and Siri “by the code” Tachi felt the same about him). There is something incredibly romantic about that - naïve, but romantic.

I also believe that romantic love doesn’t automatically equal “true love”. I personally feel that Obi-Wan and Siri have a love that is on such a deep level that their relationship doesn’t always have to be romantic. They simply just love one another, in whatever form that takes at any given period in time throughout their lives, sometimes it takes the form of just friends, sometimes lovers, sometimes romantic. And I wish we saw more relationships like that in various media. But I get why we don’t, they are harder to write and less overtly sexy/dramatic.

Also, when someone says the phrase:

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone.” (Siri)

And it’s followed immediately with:

“You do” (Obi-Wan)

My heart just melts, because that to me is love!!

4. So, you actually think Obi-Wan loved both Siri & Satine? Yes, I do...100%. I think they all loved other people at different points in their lives. I personally feel that most of Obi-Wan’s various ships (with exceptions of Master/Padawan ships...sorry, just not my bag) actually happened. I could see a young Obi-Wan having a fling with Quinlan Vos (I doubt they could handle more than that), I could definitely see him have an attraction/affection towards Cody (I don’t think given the power dynamic Obi-Wan would ever allow anything to actually happen between them though), I even believe he and Ventress had a rather confusing and passionate night together (maybe even more than one), I can see him easily having a relationship at one point with Taria Damsin (to which Siri would give him endless crap about because he seems to have a thing for Jedi Shadows). I’m sure he even had a relationship with Annileen on Tatooine to help find some comfort during his exile. To me all of that makes so much more sense than him (and Satine) pining away for one another for 20+ years.

Allowing Obi-Wan to have multiple loves in his life also helps showcase the idea of non-attachment. It’s not that Jedi promote promiscuity - though they won’t judge anyone for it (I see the Jedi very much in the mindset of: it’s your body/your choice) it’s that the idea of attachment means possessing someone, thinking you own someone and also putting that person’s value over others. The idea that Obi-Wan could find love and value in a multitude of lovers to me shows him capable of loving without attachment - He is able to let these people go when the relationship has run its course...it’s very healthy.

Not to mention that realistically people tend to have multiple relationships and loves throughout their lives. To only ever love one person is incredibly unrealistic, unhealthy and frankly screams attachment to me *cough Anakin, cough*.

In conclusion: If you’re still reading this (did you not have anything better to do with your time???) I do hope you have a bit more of an understanding why I personally like to write Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship instead of his and Satine’s. Though if you read my fics (thank you if you do) I hope you realize that I try to not make the stories all about their relationship - yes, it pops up here and there, but I try not to make it the focal point. I believe both Obi-Wan and Siri are so much more than just a romance and that’s what I really love writing.

But I raise a glass and toast all of those who prefer to ship Obitine or CodyWan or Ventrobi (or whatever Obi-Wan and Quilan’s ship name is) - I love reading your take on those relationships and I hope you don’t mind if an old SiriWan shipper joins the fun!

Phew, rant over...man, does anyone else have to defend their OTP preferences to strangers?? It’s just so odd to me!

Thanks for reading, and if you’re a Siri, Obi-Wan or SiriWan fan drop me a line - I can seriously talk about them for hours!

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #sw meta #long rant #long post #sorry yall #my otp for life #siri tachi #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #siriwan #obi wan x siri #why do people care who I ship?#jedi culture #jedi apprentice #jedi quest

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pandora15 · 3 years

Text

Hello! So this is an alternate version of my Whumpay 2021 Day 3 prompt. The prompt was “Crying into Chest.” This alternate version is much darker and sadder than what I originally wrote. The first part of this is exactly the same as what I originally wrote, but then things take...a turn.

Here we go! :)

tag list: @thelove-ablepenguin

(tw major character death, blood)

“Are you sure about this?” Rex asked for the fifth time, drawing Ahsoka’s gaze away from the viewport, to where he sat in the copilot’s seat, eyebrows furrowed.

Ahsoka sighed, slumping back slightly in her chair.

“Not really,” she admitted. The glare of Tatooine’s twin suns shone through the transparisteel viewport, casting Rex’s form in a bright yellow glow. Ahsoka was sorely tempted to shield her eyes, but she was desperate to look into the open expanse of sand, for any sign of anyone—

She turned back to Rex, eyes watering.

“If he survived, he would be here,” she said. “Anakin never really liked it here, but…this was his home, and I just have a feeling, Rex.”

Rex gave her a short nod in response. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” she replied, and she stood, picking up the cloak draped over the back of her chair. “Best not to risk it, considering…”

“Yeah.” Rex’s voice was rough, barely anything more than a whisper. Since Mandalore, since the Order, he and Ahsoka had realized that his face—the face of a clone—was simply too recognizable, which made laying low a bit more…complicated.

“I’ll be back,” she said. “I just need to know if—”

If he survived. If anyone survived.

Rex nodded.

Ahsoka managed a quick smile, and then she turned away, rushing out of the cockpit, into the blistering heat of Tatooine’s day.

———————————-

Tatooine was just as dry as she remembered.

Ahsoka didn’t really know much about it, if she was being honest with herself. She’d only been to Tatooine a handful of times, and there hadn’t been any time to explore, let alone adjust to the heat of the suns.

Pulling the edges of her cloak closer together, Ahsoka pressed forward, closer to Mos Eisley. There was a pair of Rodians talking animatedly to each other close to the entrance gate, a Twi’Lek racing past, cloak flapping in the air, and then a small Weequay standing against one of the buildings, smoking pipe in hand.

Ahsoka sighed and turned away.

Even if Anakin was here, somehow, where would she begin to look? The Force was—well, all her attempts to try and find his presence resulted in her encountering the horrifying darkness that bled took over, and she couldn’t bear it at all.

It was just…too much.

Shaking her head, Ahsoka continued moving forward. Despite the fact that she could see the other people around her, just outside Mos Eisley, there was a feeling of silence, of emptiness around her.

It was odd. There was a strange quietness in the air, something that distantly reminded her of the moments right before the Order was called, when she was on the ship, waiting for Rex to take his transmission, and then—

Ahsoka’s breath hitched.

There was the hum of a lightsaber, in the distance.

In a split-second, Ahsoka was running away from Mos Eisely, in the direction where she heard the humming. Her hand grasped desperately at her shoto, holding it in a near deathgrip as she rushed into the open expanse of sand.

Sweat dripped down her forehead, sliding down her cheeks, but she ignored it, pressing on.

The lightsaber’s hum grew louder and louder, but now she heard the voices, along with the blasterfire.

The Force shuddered in urgency.

Ahsoka ran faster.

Soon enough, she saw the lightsaber ignited in the distance, yards away. A lone hooded figure, holding a blue lightsaber, surrounded by a slew of blaster-wielding troopers.

Oh, no.

She was getting close enough to hear the words being exchanged, and now—

“All Jedi have been marked for termination,” a painfully familiar voice was saying. “Including you.”

Cody’s voice, muffled by his helmet, echoed into her montrals.

“I will not fight you, Cody.”

The accented voice was painfully familiar, sending urgency down Ahsoka’s spine.

“Obi-Wan,” she breathed, pumping her arms faster and faster. “Obi-Wan, no.”

Desperately, Ahsoka reached into the Force, to the bond she used to share with her Grandmaster, but that bond had long since dissolved, and Obi-Wan’s presence was completely closed off, impossible for her to reach.

As the clones—because yes, he was completely surrounded by clones marked with orange and white armor—raised their blasters, something heavy pushed Ahsoka back, away from the scene.

In the distance, she saw Obi-Wan’s hand was lifted towards her, in what appeared to be a placating gesture to the clones but was actually keeping Ahsoka away from the conflict.

By the time she managed to get herself back on her feet, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was no longer visible.

Ahsoka watched, rushing forward as Cody lifted his blaster and fired at her Grandmaster. She watched as Obi-Wan stumbled back with a grunt and fell to the ground, as the clones kicked his body to the side. She watched as they rode away on their speeder-bikes, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the sands.

The Force shuddered again, and a light went out.

Ahsoka’s breaths caught in her chest as she sprinted forward, faster than before, coming to a stop and kneeling down next to Obi-Wan, who was laying on his side, turned away from Ahsoka.

“Master,” she breathed, reaching for his shoulder and rolling him carefully onto his back.

The first thing she noticed was the fact that his eyes were open, half-lidded and glazed over. Then, she saw the hole in the center of his chest, the blood oozing slowly out of it.

Swallowing, Ahsoka brought a trembling hand up to his nose and waited.

“No.” Her voice trembled as she desperately fought back a wave of tears. “No, Obi-Wan, you can’t do this to me, not after all of this.”

Obi-Wan remained completely still, as though he didn’t hear her at all.

Desperately, Ahsoka placed two fingers at his neck and waited to feel the movement of a pulse. Through it all, he remained completely still. There was no breath, no pulse, nothing in the Force but the horrible crushing emptiness she’d felt since the Order was called, and—

The tears were spilling out of her eyes, and with a desperate cry, Ahsoka was falling forward, her head landing on something soft and unmoving. The realization rushed into her then.

If she was only just a bit faster, she could’ve stopped this from happening. If she left for Tatooine even hours earlier, then Obi-Wan would be alive right now, and she wouldn’t feel so lost and alone.

It was only a matter of minutes, maybe even seconds, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

In the end, she was too late.

(Pandora’s Whumpay 2021 Masterlist)

#whumpay2021 #no.3 #crying into chest #pandora writes #ahsoka tano #rex #obi wan kenobi #major character death #blood #this idea sorta came to me while i was writing the original version but i was like kinda already almost done with it #but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so i guess i'm writing two prompt fills for today lol #anyways yeah! this one's even sadder than the original :))))

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imaginationoverspill · 3 years

Text

Long time no see

Summary : Two years into an undercover mission, you find yourself meeting the very man you had to leave behind.

Obi-Wan Kenodi x Genderneutral!reader

The low boom of the bass permeated through the sweaty bar as Master Kenobi and his padawan moved through the crowd.

“Master are you sure this the right place ?”, Anakin mumbled to his master, uncomfortable in the civilian clothes that many of the regulars wore. His status as a padawan hidden as his braid was tucked under the shoulder-length wig.

“Yes Anakin, I’m sure and please stop fidgeting, you’re drawing attention”, he replied as he glanced around the crowd inconspicuously.

“Yes Master”.

Eventually, the pair found an empty booth in a more secluded part of the club, but also a lot closer to one of the many circular platforms dotted around that were mainly used by scantily-clad dancers of varying species and gender. One of the platforms was directly in front of Obi-Wan’s line of sight and was a lot larger than the other platforms, probably used as the main stage. At the moment it was empty as the generic low-bass music continued to play.

“So this informant, any idea how we’re supposed to find them ?”

“Patience, young one”, replied Obi-Wan.

The music suddenly changed and the lights dimmed so that the main stage was lit up. Both men looked at the stage as two twi’leks, one male and one female, start dancing along to the beat.

Here we go again. Just like every other night for the past two years, you sat in the dressing room getting ready for your performance. At least this time, you know two Jedi will be waiting for you for information. They should be easy enough to spot, even if they think they’re amazing at being disguised. Most of the time ordinary people don’t notice them when they’re not in their robes, you, however, could spot them a mile away so it didn’t really matter that you had no idea who the Jedi you were supposed to meet was. Hopefully, after you’ve dropped the info, your undercover mission will be over and you can get back to what you’re fantastic at : bounty hunting.

“Come on honey! We’re up!”, shouted Iyal’, a young yellow twi’lek that was your only friend among the dancers.

You took your robe off, revealing the provocative outfit and sauntered on stage as your back-up dancers, Iyal’ and another twi’lek, began dancing to the beat of the song. They separated to reveal you to the audience and you began singing.

As you sing and dance sensually to the song, you check out the crowd entranced by your performance in search of the two Jedi. Your gaze lands on the two men sat in a booth near one of the smaller dance platforms and you falter slightly as you recognise him.

“Kriff”

Anakin glances confusingly at his master’s swearing. The usually calm and composed Jedi master was visible flustered at the sight of the beautiful singer on the main stage.

“Master, are you alright ?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and readjusted himself so as not to seem affected by the performance. When he was told to meet up with an undercover agent, you were the last person that he had expected to see.

You gave it your all on the final note, the club whistles and applauses your performance. The twi’leks move off-stage as the generic low-bass music returns. You walk off-stage in the direction of the booth.

Nervous butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach despite your confident strut towards the two Jedi. Holy Sith! Why does he have to be so hot? He was already attractive when he was a padawan but the long hair and beard just make him ten times hotter.

As you reach them, you coyly sit next to the older one.

“Of all the places I thought I would see you again Kenobi, this is certainly not one of them”

“Likewise my dear”, he responded coldly.

Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at his master’s cold greeting before introducing himself.

“Pleasure to meet you”, you reply smirking and coyly extending your hand for him to shake. Despite the coldness from Obi-Wan, you still had an act to maintain.

“Anakin, why don’t you go get us both drinks whilst I discuss matters with our informant”, Obi-Wan ordered.

“But-”.

“Now, Anakin.”

He nodded his head towards you both before getting up, slightly concerned at his master’s strange behaviour.

“ Master”, you say as if testing the way it sounded. “It suits you.”

“Yes well ... thank you”, he coughs. You smile slightly, glad you could break his impassiveness, even if only for a moment.“From what I understand, you have some information on a potential terrorist attack”

“It’s always straight to business with you, even when we were younglings”

“I hardly see why that’s a bad thing”

You smirk at him before gently removing a disc hidden in your bra.

“This disc has everything I could gather without being caught”

Obi-Wan briefly glanced down but quickly looked away before you noticed where he was looking.

“Your effort is greatly appreciated by the council”, he curtly replied as he took the disc from you.

You felt disappointed at the lack of reaction. You always knew that if you did ever see him again, the encounter would be at the least awkward, but you still hoped that somewhere deep down, he was happy to see you.

The sound of shouting above the music catches your attention. Anakin was stood with his fists clenched and struggling to stay calm as a Rodian screeched at him. The second you look at the scene, you notice a determined group walk in your direction. You recognise them immediately as henchmen from the separatist group that run the club as cover.

“Fuck, we’ve got to get out of here. Grab Anakin and meet me at the back”. If they figure out that you’re with a Jedi, your cover will be blown. You get up to meet the group of intimidating aliens, still maintaining your flirty persona.

"Hi fellas, what can a gal get ya’ ?" You flirtatiously greet.

" How about two Jedi scum.", growled the big Trandoshan. You try to hide your nervous giggle.

" Oh sugar, if that's what you want, you ain't gonna find any here"

"Really", he stepped closer to you, "then why did we catch you chatting them up." Crap.

"Oh, don't be silly. Those two fellas were just here for a good time. Here, let me grab you fellas some drinks, on the house"

You quickly turn away to escape but the Trandoshan roughly grips onto your arm. You slam your heel into his foot, causing him to yell in pain and let your arm go. Time to get out of here. You start running and pushing through the crowd of semi-drunk club-goers.

"GET AFTER THEM !"

The group draw their blasters and run after you.

You manage to run out into a dark and dirty alleyway with a dead-end.“Not so fast”, two Devaronians block both sides of the alleyway, cutting off your escape route. Oh, crap.

Suddenly the sounds of lightsabers and blaster fire catch your attention. Upon the rooftop, you spot the two Jedi deflecting blasts close to the edge. They make quick work of the thugs attacking before Obi-wan notices the trouble you’re in the alleyway below as the two Devaronians trapping you rush at you.

Without much thought -and to Anakin’s confusion- he calls your name and throws his deactivated lightsaber to you. You catch the lightsaber and ignite, smirking at the two thugs who suddenly stopped at the sight of the blue blade. They start firing their blasters but you gracefully deflect the bolts back to them before swiftly cutting one of the Devaronian’s arm off and roundhouse kick him in the face, incapacitating him. You promptly twist to face the other thug who had stepped back slightly in fear. Swinging the sabre skilfully, you use the force to pull the blaster out of his hand before slamming the hilt into his face, effectively knocking him out.

Both Jedi smoothly leap down from the roof to join you.

“You’re a Jedi ?!”, exclaimed Anakin incredulously.

“Was. I’m not any more.”, you admitted.

“Yes well, let’s get out of here”, said Obi-Wan, quickly cutting off whatever Anakin was about to say to your reply.

The three of you headed out of the alleyway and headed to the parked speeder hidden in the shadows. Upon approaching the speeder, you noticed that only seated two people and stood awkwardly looking at the men, wondering how we were going to get around the problem. Obi-Wan noticed the same issue as you. As Anakin sat in the driver’s seat, he took his place in the passenger’s side and simply patted his lap. You flushed at the action. When you didn’t immediately move, he looked at you with a slight smirk and raised an eyebrow.

Over the past two years, you became used to the flirtatious smirks and sexual remarks from both attractive and unattractive customers whilst working in the seedy club in the lower decks of Coruscant. You were used to dancing provocatively in front of an enraptured audience. But one simple hand gesture from him and suddenly you were blushing mess. You also realised this is the first time that he’s somewhat smiled since seeing him again. This only made you blush more. In an attempt to mask how flustered he made you, you moved to gently sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist to secure you, making you blush even harder and making the resurfaced butterflies flutter crazily in your stomach but thankfully he couldn’t see your face. Anakin, however, saw the entire exchange but decided not to say anything. He’ll have to question his master later.

Anakin flew the speeder to the Jedi temple, much to your reluctance. After the feeling of disappointing your master by leaving the order, the thought of ever returning made you feel queasy and the warmth of his arms wrapped around you didn’t help. As Anakin landed the speeder, Master Yoda, a blue and white astromech droid and a gold protocol droid greeted you. You stood behind the two Jedi, hoping to be ignored by your former master. No such look as he greeted you :

“Good to see you, it is, my former padawan”

“Master Yoda”, you greeted, bowing in respect, “it has been a long time.”

“Have become a fine Jedi, you would, but become an invaluable ally, instead you have. If correct, your information is, prevent losses, it may. Hmm. Been prepared for your arrival, a room has. Show you the way, C3PO will. Discuss further action with the council, we must. Talk later, we will.”

During the walk to your new room, you ignored the ramblings of the protocol droid as the familiar corridors of the Jedi Temple made you feel nostalgic. You remember the times you and Obi-wan would get in trouble as children. You shared everything with each other. But as you got older, you developed a crush that no amount of meditating would get rid of it. You had to hide your feelings as it was against the code to form attachments. However, it was far too late. You thought by distancing yourself more would make a difference but no matter what you did, his smile, his laughter, everything about him would make your heart flutter. Dismissing the droid once when you reached the room, you decided that a shower was in order.

The sound of the door knocking pulled you from the meditative state you had been in. After your shower, you started your bedtime ritual which included a small meditation session. Since leaving the order, you were no longer obligated to follow their rules and rituals but nothing helped calm you down better than meditating. It was currently three o’clock in the morning and so you definitely were not expecting anyone to come knocking. You opened the door :

“Obi-Wan ?”

“I realise it is far too late and I should be leaving you to rest but I can’t sleep.”

You silently gesture for him to come in before closing the door. As padawans, it wasn’t unusual for one of you to go see the other when we had difficulty sleeping. Nothing had to be said. You started making two cups of tea as he sat on the small couch near the window of your room. He wasn’t wearing his robes but a thin cotton shirt and trousers. For a brief moment, you both felt like padawans again.

As you handed him his tea, he shifted and the moment of nostalgia was over :

“I’ve come to apologise”, he started, “I was unfairly rude to you and I would also like to apologise for blowing your cover”.

“I somehow don’t think it was your fault. Something tells me that they had known about me long before you even turned up”

“You suspect they knew you were a spy ?”

“Yeah, call it a gut feeling”

He nodded in agreement, stroking his beard. You didn’t think he could be any more attractive but the sight of him sat on your couch in his casual clothes made everything seem intimate. You had to tear your gaze away from the hand near his mouth, hoping he didn’t sense what you were feeling.

“I hated being there anyway, so I’m definitely not upset over never having to go back there ever again”

His brows furrowed at your statement :

“More so than here ?”

“What ?”, you reply in confusion.

“I - Did you hate it there more than being at the Temple ?”

You looked at him, wondering why he would ask such a question. Normally, you would just ignore such a question and try to change the subject, but had been a very tiring day and something about the moment just made you want to give in.

“I never hated being at the Temple.”

A heavy silence followed your answer. When you left the order, you promised you would never tell anyone your reasons, afraid of rumours would spread and Obi-Wan’s devotion to the order and the code would be put into question.

“Why did you leave ?”

“Obi-Wan, I-”

“No please. I never understood why you left. I thought you were happy at the Temple. I remember the fun we had as children.”

“Obi-Wan please -”

He gently picked your hands up and held them, gently rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. The rough but soft caress of his thumbs made you feel weak and you felt resolve crumble.

“I loved you”, you quietly whispered. Hoping maybe he hadn’t heard you, but the sudden freezing of his thumbs confirmed that he had.“ I tried not to”, you quickly added. “ I tried so hard to be a good Jedi but it didn’t work. If anything it made me love you more. So I left. I didn’t want to ‘corrupt’ you. I knew how much becoming a Jedi Knight meant to you.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid of what you’ll see. Afraid that he would turn cold again and that it would truly be last time you ever see him again. Instead, you heard him move closer and felt his forehead gently rest against the side of your face. Confused, you gently turn your face to him so both of your foreheads rested against each other. He had his eyes closed and you closed your own. You could feel his warm breath softly flow over your face he slowly leaned in more. His nose brushed softly against yours as his lips pressed to yours. Your lips touched for a few seconds before he leaned in more, deepening the kiss. One of his hands moved up to gently cup your jaw.

After what felt like hours, but probably was only a few minutes, you both separated. You were in a daze and felt on top of the world.

AN : I had to repost this because Tumblr glitched, but anyways here it is. I spent way to much time on this and I’m still not entirely happy with it but I hope you enjoy it !

PS : Please tell me I’m not alone in struggling to find titles for their fanfictions.

#starwars #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obiwan x reader #obi wan kenobi #padawan anakin #anakin skywalker

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sarcastic-bubble · 3 years

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“Leave me alone” and “Did you just kiss me?”

With Anakin if you are ok with that :)

Paring: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Work count: 1.5K

Warnings: It gets a little angsty down there.

A/N: Oh my god guys I'm on a writing roll! I also wasn't about to finally switch everything over to my other blog without clearing my inbox first. Like I'm an ass, but I'm not that big of an ass. But I do really hate trying to format fics on the tumblr mobile app. So just pop on over to @sarcastic-bubbl if you want.

Masterlist

---

You lay on top of a large pile of cushions. If a passer-by were to peek in they’d think you were napping, but that wasn’t the case. You were meditating. Every Jedi had their preference when it came to positioning and yours just happened to be laying down. You found it easier to forget your physical form and fully immerse yourself in the force when laying. Maker knew you needed all the help the force may offer at the moment. Your master had sent you to meditate hours ago and told you not to come back until you’d made a decision. At first, this had seemed cruel, but it was your fault for taking so long to make this decision. You tried to search the force for the answers you were looking for but it only echoed the fear and uncertainty you felt. Your breathing deepened and slowed as you worked your way through various meditation techniques but your mind simply refused to clear. This should be a simple choice. The council believed you were ready to ascend to the rank of Jedi Knight. You should agree with them. You should be grateful for the chance to complete the remaining trials that you hadn’t during the last few months of your training. Everyone believed you were ready yet you didn’t feel ready. The more you were pressured the less ready you felt. You could just say no, but making a habit of defying the council and your own master hardly seemed like a good idea. Why couldn’t this be simple?

You were far too lost in thought to hear to door open and close. Nor did you notice the sound of cushions being moved to create a small pile perfect for lounging on. “You need to relax more,” stated Anakin very matter-of-factly as he sat down next to you.

This was finally enough to pull you from your thoughts. “Leave me alone,” you grumbled, “can’t you see I’m meditating?” Why was he here? Anakin was a pest. He had been one since he had arrived at the Jedi temple all those years ago. He was, however, your favourite pest and easily your best friend. As often as he drove you crazy with his reckless antics and sarcastic wit you found yourself drawn to him. He was someone you trusted and could talk to but right now he was a pest and you wanted to be alone.

“I’m not sure you can actually call what you’re doing meditating, (y/n).” His sentence was punctuated by the crisp crunch of him biting into an apple.

You opened your eyes only so you could properly glare at the Jedi next to you. “What would you call it then?”

His soft blue eyes met yours. The cocky expression he so often had around you faded into concern. “The beginnings of an existential crisis.”

You missed the concern that had begun to creep into his voice and his change of expression. There was just so much on your mind and even though you were looking at your attention was still only halfway there. “Are you just here to tease me or is there a reason you’re here?” You hated yourself for it but you could feel tears begin to form as you spoke, the frustration stemming from indecisiveness was already too much and Anakin was threatening to tip you over the edge.

Anakin set the apple down on a bare patch of the floor before place his hand over yours. “I came to check on you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” You weren’t okay and Anakin knew it. He had the force to thank for that. Upon his return to the temple only half an hour early he had looked for the gentle yet mischievous waves that were your presence in the force and had been since you were children. He never found it. Instead, wave after wave of uncertainty had crashed into him. At that moment he had decided his duties could wait and he set off to find you.

“I don’t think I’m okay,” you whispered. The tears you had been trying so hard to hold back took this as permission to quietly stream down your cheeks.

Anakin slipped his mechanical arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest. You shuddered against him as you cried. You waited for him to say something. He always had something to say, but Anakin remained quiet. He simply held you tight until your tears had run their course. Once he was certain you were done crying he spoke to you softly and pressed a small bottle into your hands, “have some water. You don’t want a headache.”

You were grateful for the cool liquid. Each sip soothed your parched throat and seemed to chase away the impending headache that Anakin was so worried about. Not trusting yourself to speak just yet you gave the man a weak smile.

“If you want to be alone I’ll leave,” a gentle thumb brushed the few remaining tears from your cheeks,” but if you want me to stay I will. It’s up to you.”

“Please stay,” you whispered weakly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” That was all it took for silence to return to the room. You relaxed against Anakin’s chest and once again his arms encircled you and held you tightly.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like this, just enjoying his soothing presence, but when you peaked out one of the rooms small windows stars littered the sky. You were the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

“Of course,” hummed Anakin in response.

“You probably had more important things to do than sit here with me,” you pointed out quietly.

“That’s what the council will try to tell me, but nothing is more important than you,” he brushed his fingers through your hair before continuing,” and whatever decision you make I’ll support you.” He felt you tense beneath him. “You can tell the council no. As wise as they claim to be, they don’t know everything about you.”

“And what about my master?” You could feel the dread rushing back into you.

“What about him? If he’s that determined to get rid of you then I’ll take you on as my Padawan until you’re ready.” He realized how ridiculous the idea sounded as he spoke it. He had only been knighted a few months ago and as far as skill was concerned you were his equal, and there was the was fact that he was only your senior by a year. It wouldn’t be the most conventional pairing.

“You can’t possibly think they’d let you do that,” you replied with a small smile.

“I’d like to see them stop me,” his words were sincere. He had no clue how would do it, but if he had to them he’d figure out a way to make you his padawan. He’d have to get Obi-wan on board with the idea if he ever hoped to have a chance.

“You’re insane,” you laughed in response. It was quiet but it was there and thats and Anakin needed.

“Probably,” he chuckled. He was a little disappointed when your body shifted off his. You did keep one had in his as you shifted into a half-sitting position next to him. He could see the real you coming out again as you giggled quietly to yourself over the idea of being his padawan. He could feel you again too. The uncertainty was still there but the force was once again filled with your gentle presence, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thank you, Ani.”

“Good.” He wasn’t sure what drove him to do it now of all times but as he finished speaking his lips met yours in a soft, short kiss. He regretted it almost immediately, but that didn’t stop him from lingering for a few moments.

“Did you just kiss me?” Your expression was an unreadable mix of emotions and so were your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… that was wrong. I-” You pushed a finger against his lips effectively silencing him.

“It’s okay, Ani. I just didn’t expect it is all” your finger left his lips and your hand fell to your side,” but if you wanted to try again that would be okay.”

Anakin’s expression was a mix of sheer relief and pure joy as his lip once again captured yours. His lips were softer than you’d expected and far more welcoming than you had ever imagined. “How was that?” He chuckled.

“Much better.”

“Are you ready to go tell the council your decision?”

Your eyes met his,” as long as you’re with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Anakin pushed himself to his feet and held a hand out to you, “ now let’s go face them together.”

#star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

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padawanlost · 3 years

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hello it is time for my daily bothering you! i have three questions: 1. would Padme have been a good chancellor? 2. do you think the jedi were restricted with outside media like music, movies and games ext like many other cults are? 3. was yoda knowledgeable about their harmful practices? hes the oldest one and the top dog, so was he aware?

Hey!

would Padme have been a good chancellor?

It depends on what you’d classify as good. Padmé absolutely had the skill and experience to be a great politician. However, if we are talking about the current GFFA senate I don’t think she would be as successful without some major changes first. The thing about extremely corrupt governments is that it’s impossible to govern without corrupting yourself. That’s why in hostile, corrupt environments s the opposition usually get murdered before they can truly change the status quo.

So Padme can either ‘go with the flow’ or risk everything trying to pass some major political reformation. I honestly don’t see her doing that because she didn’t see any major problems with the status quote until her privilege was no longer a guarantee. She was never the champion of the people, the messianic figure some believed she was. She was definitely much, much better than most but she was never one to push for obvious things like clone citizenship or abolition.

Padmé understood that politics means compromise and that she would have to do some major compromises to be able to rule effectively, especially in her first few months. Knowing how corrupt the Senate was, I don’t see her doing it without getting some dirt on her hands. not saying it would make her a bad chancellor, just saying she probably wouldn’t be this perfect chancellor that would fix everything the fandom has idealized for so long.

do you think the jedi were restricted with outside media like music, movies and games ext like many other cults are?

Not really. At least, not like that. I’ve never seen anything about any jedi being forbidden from enjoying or knowing about popular culture. What we have is a rule about padawans being forbidden from leaving the Temple without their masters (but that was more for their safety than for cultural isolation).

I think we don’t see Jedi playing games and enjoying free time simply because they weren’t raised like that. training for to be a jedi were extremely hard: physically and mentally. Time you didn’t spent on clases on every known subject was spent on physical training. not a lot of time to play games and go dancing there. On top of that, they were trained from infancy on the importance of meditation. So the little free time they had was spent on meditation, perfecting their skills or enjoying the temple.

They had been heading back from an intense physical workout when Obi-Wan had spied the students from Anakin’s year heading to the lake. He had seen the longing in Anakin’s eyes as the students dived into the cool water.

“Go ahead,” Obi-Wan had told him. “Take some time off.”

[…]He couldn’t resist a moment to see if Anakin was enjoying himself with the others. He scanned the happy, splashing group with the smile still on his face. [Jedi Apprentice Special Edition: Deceptions by Jude Watson]

So, yeah, they had fun but it wasn’t our kind of fun. of course, one could argue there’s a element of indoctrination involved. They were removed from their birth families for a reason, after all.

“After the Jedi Masters decided that it was too dangerous to train anyone familiar with fear, anger, and any other emotion that might lead to the dark side, it was agreed that Force-sensitive juveniles, adolescents, and adults would no longer be eligible for enlistment or conscription. Instead, they sought out and adopted Force-sensitive infants who would be raised and trained at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant; to prevent any emotional attachments that might cloud judgment, most recruits would never have any subsequent contact with their families.” [ Ryder’s Windham’s Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force]

was yoda knowledgeable about their harmful practices?

Yes, at the very end he recognized the jedi have been doing *something* wrong.

“We should split them up,” Obi-Wan said. “Even if the Sith find one, the other may survive. I can take the boy, Master Yoda, and you take the girl. We can hide them away, keep them safe—train them as Anakin should have been trained—” “No.” The ancient Master lowered his head again, closing his eyes, resting his chin on his hands that were folded over the head of his stick. Obi-Wan looked uncertain. “But how are they to learn the self-discipline a Jedi needs? How are they to master skills of the Force?” “Jedi training, the sole source of self-discipline is not. When right is the time for skills to be taught, to us the living Force will bring them. Until then, wait we will, and watch, and learn.” [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

#ask #whisp-black-cloud #sw meta #meta: padme #jedi order #yoda #meta: yoda #jedi culture #txt

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