#tcw x appearances

[imarvelatthestars]

Fireworks

Pairings: Sergeant Hound x f!Reader

Warnings: none! just 4.9k words of tension & cuteness

Notes: Hound's appearance was inspired by some very cool art by heidiss on twitter. I also dropped a quick reference to @samspenandsword Fox series, The Coffee House, which truly sold me on being a Fox girlie.

You feel borderline sick. Thirty solid minutes of chasing down your sweet, stupid, panicked massiff from the local park to, well, wherever in the Sith hells you are now and not only do you feel close to collapsing, but your chest is tight and aching from adrenaline and anxiety. He’s a good boy, really, he’s such a sweetheart and he can be so fun and friendly once he gets to know someone, but Jaxjo’s also easily startled. The two of you have been working long and hard on soothing strategies for when he’s overwhelmed, for warming up to and trusting well-meaning strangers, but this day has gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. 

Some blocks down the (mercifully) mostly deserted walkway, you can see Jaxjo’s rump as he darts under a bench after a speeder zooms too close for his comfort. It hurts your heart to see him so worked up, but it’s also sending you into a spiral. What if he gets really scared and gets lost? What if he lashes out at someone and you have to put him down? What if another speeder comes by and he jumps out and everything goes horribly wrong and he gets hit? What if what if what if what if? Maker, you don’t want to lose your little boy. He makes your life so much brighter and happier. What if- 

Another firework goes off, another problem to add to the already substantial list, and you feel your eyes start to pinprick along the waterline. Why not add a grounded explosion? A Separatist attack, maybe? A mugging? Just make a night of it! And then, as if you weren’t already at your wit’s end, you catch a flash of plastoid armor, white and red and gray, and your stomach plummets to your feet. 

Jaxjo doesn’t see the Corrie at first, he’s too distracted by the remnants of fireworks sparking out overhead, but the Corrie sees you. Of course he does. Him and the other trooper doing rounds with him. You notice their helmets tilt and twist a bit, probably to allow for a conversation as they consider why you’re out in a back alley all by yourself at dusk. 

You ignore the troopers. You whistle as loud as you can in that specific way that only Jax could recognize and start jingling his leash, and thank the Maker, it works! His head jerks to the side, tongue lolling out, and his body language softens for a moment. Sweet boy, he’s still so scared, but he knows his mom, he knows you mean safety. 

“C’mere, boy!” you call as encouragingly as you can despite your throat threatening to close up on you. “Jax, c’mere!” 

The Corries have stopped their patrolling and are now fully watching you. One of them, the one on the right with the strange looking helmet, has his arms crossed over his chest. This probably means they’ve decided you’re their evening entertainment or they’re lingering to see if you need help. Maybe? You haven’t interacted with enough troopers to accurately gauge what’s going on under those helmets. 

“Sorry!” you shout across the street, a hand pointed in his direction. “He’s just scared of the fireworks!” 

As if on cue, another one lights up the steadily darkening sky and the resulting boom is loud enough to rattle you down to your bones. Jaxjo whines loud and low. Then another firework goes off and your massiff goes bolting out from under the bench. He scrambles into the middle of the street, throws his head back and forth with the whites of his eyes on full display, and for a moment you think that he’ll come running right to you and you can finally take your boy home, but he barks, shivers like a leaf in a storm, and takes off at full speed, fangs bared. He’s zeroed in on the Corries. Oh Maker, no. 

“Jaxjo! Jaxjo, no!” All logic goes flying out the window. Every special cue and direction you’ve learned to keep both him and yourself calm, it’s gone in an instant because it’s like your worst nightmare come to life. He’s going to attack one of the troopers and then you’ll have to put him down, probably even get fined on top of it and put on some ‘incompetent massiff owner’ list that’ll ban you for life, and and- 

The trooper in the strange helmet steps forward. He’s not afraid of Jax’s growling, even though he really should be. You’re sprinting forward as fast you can, heart in your throat, whistling and shouting, and the trooper just holds out his hand and speaks. You don’t know what he says, but it’s like a switch flips in Jax’s brain. He stops mid-stride and just stares. Another firework goes off and Jax starts rather violently, but he doesn’t run. 

It’s like you’re watching some kind of nature holo and this Corrie trooper is the reincarnation of Stirwin Eve. Within a matter of minutes, Jaxjo has crawled his way to the trooper’s feet and is cowering into his shin guards while the trooper gently pats his back. It’s magic, plain and simple. 

You’re so stunned that you don’t even know what to say. You know something comes out of your mouth, some vague approximation of awestruck thanks, but you’re hardly aware of it. All you can think about is the fact that your boy didn’t go wild and bite a member of the Coruscant Guard and that he’s not going to get transported to the pound and put down because of your own stupidity. 

The other trooper, the one whose armor looks more like what you’d expect, clears his throat. “You really should keep him on a leash, ma’am, especially during a fireworks display. It’s not safe to have massiffs off-leash in the city.” 

A streak of irritation flares up behind your eyes, but you manage to swallow it with a smile, albeit a forced one. “Unfortunately, he broke out of the park earlier and I’ve been trying to catch him for the last half hour.” I’m not usually inclined to letting my anxious wreck of a massiff free when the mood strikes, is what you want to say. You opt for biting your tongue instead. “It won’t happen again, sir.” 

The first trooper finally looks up at you. It’s quite the sight – a big anxious massiff, a Corrie squatting down next to him and offering treats and pets, and that strange helmet that keeps throwing you for a loop. He doesn’t say anything. He’s definitely looking at you; you can feel the weight of his gaze even through the visor. It’s compelling enough that when he extends his hand and wordlessly asks for your leash, you hand it over without a fight. 

Jaxjo is quickly clipped on by his harness and the leash is returned to you loop first. The trooper pats him once more, then stands, and it hits you then just how intimidating a figure he cuts in the lowlight. The kama, the broad shoulders that bear his dark gray armor, the blaster rifle hanging from his free hand, the jagged triangles carved into his helmet flaps that look oddly reminiscent of massiff fangs, and the streaks of red over the crown of his head, it’s all a reminder that before you stands a soldier and officer of the Chancellor’s forces. 

For kriff’s sake, he answers to the fucking Chancellor. You’re so damn lucky right now, you ought to get down on your hands and knees and thank every star in the sky that Jax didn’t completely lose his mind! 

“Thank you.” The words sound strangled and foreign. “Sir. Uh, s-sorry, sir. It was an accident, it won’t happen again.” You vaguely recall already saying this, but it doesn’t hurt to reiterate. “Thank you.” 

Five minutes later, you’re left standing under a streetlamp with a citation and leash in one hand and a serving of treats in the other. Jaxjo tilts his head back to look at you properly and whines. 

“I know, buddy, I know.” Your head is starting to spin and the fireworks are only going to get worse. “Let’s go home.”

The knock that shatters the comfortable silence of your mid-levels apartment the next day sends Jaxjo into a barking frenzy. “Just a second!” you shout, although if you’re even audible is doubtful. You manage to get him into your bedroom after a bit of finagling and the barking only continues, but this way it’s at least manageable. 

“Maker, I’m sorry,” you start as you press the door controls by the entry, “he gets all worked up with strangers and-” 

You’re met with an eyeful of gray chest armor and massiff fangs painted on to a helmet, a hint of a vision screen under the red and white visor. Oh. 

The two of you size each other up for a long moment until the trooper finally speaks and you feel some kind of dread curl up in the pit of your stomach. “I’m here for a follow up on your citation last night, ma’am.” 

“I... wasn’t aware I needed one.” 

The helmet tilts ever so slightly to one side. “It’s standard procedure for massiff incidents.” 

At the risk of sounding repetitive - “I wasn’t aware there was an incident, sir.” 

It’s one thing to be given a citation for having a massiff off-leash. You can understand that, even if it sucks. But to basically be insulted in your own home? That’s an entirely different story. 

There’s a huff in between Jaxjo’s barking that accompanies the Corrie’s shifting body language. One of his hands settles on his right hip and he dips his chin a bit, perhaps to look at you more directly? “If I could come inside, ma’am, I’d be able to explain better.” 

“I’m not under arrest or something, am I?” 

And you could almost swear you hear him laugh, but that would be ridiculous. And rude. Impertinent, even. “No, ma’am. Now may I come inside?” 

He’s tall. You noticed it last night, but you notice it again when he’s able to stand in comparison to your furniture and appliances. And he’s fucking built, too. I mean, it’s ridiculous. His thighs alone are enough to make you do a double take. Not that you’re intentionally looking, of course, but you do have eyes. They almost bug out of your head when the helmet comes off. 

It strikes you then that you’ve never seen a clone without their helmet on, not up close. You’ve always been aware of a flash of brown skin and usually dark hair from what you’ve caught on the news or when you happen to pass by the barracks, but Maker, you never thought they looked this good. Angular brows above kaf-colored eyes, a long, broad nose, pursed lips, and a beautifully rounded jaw and chin decorated with greyish black tattoos that echo the massiff design on his helmet. Between that, his dark hair that’s grown just long enough along the top to start coiling, and the thick trunk of his neck, and it’s a wonder you’re still standing. He’s gorgeous. 

You’re spared the embarrassment of getting caught oggling him, though (for which you send a prayer of thanks to anyone listening), because he’s busy studying your front room. “Where’s Jaxjo?” he asks. Right. Back to business. 

Your head turns in the direction of the alarmed barking that’s slowly morphing into a restless whine. “Uh, he’s in my room. I didn’t want him getting too riled up and slipping out. Why-” 

“I’m a specially trained massiff handler. I run the CG’s K-9 unit.” He pauses for a moment to peel off his gloves and toss them onto the back of your sofa where he’s balanced his helmet. You make an effort not to look. “Which means I’m also in charge of handling massiff incidents with the public.” 

“But there wasn’t an incident,” you sigh. “He didn’t bite anyone, or hurt anyone, he was just scared. You even managed to calm him down.” 

The trooper raises an eyebrow. “As his handler, you should be able to control him yourself.” 

And there’s that spark of irritation again, quickly blossoming into a full flame as heat spreads across your face and chest. “I can. I didn’t realize there was going to be an unplanned fireworks display or I would’ve kept him home yesterday. But there was. He got out, I chased him down, and I would’ve been able to calm him down eventually, but you just happened to beat me to it.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth either. You’d been worried sick last night about Jax’s behavior. You just don’t want this guy to know that and it’s making you angry. 

The trooper’s hands move to settle on his hips as his ribcage steadily expands and deflates. His head is tilted toward the floor as he listens to Jaxjo whine. He thinks for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally glancing in your direction once more. 

“I’m sure your boy's a good one, ma’am, and I can tell he means something t’ you. But you’re also concerned about his behavior and that means I’m concerned, too.” Can he see right through you? Surely you’re not that transparent. “Why don’t you let him out and I’ll see what we’re working with?” 

Woah. There’s no we. There’s you and Jaxjo, and that’s it! However this man is able to see through your frustration and pinpoint exactly what’s bothering you, you’ll probably never know, but just because he’s wearing Corrie red doesn’t mean that he can just waltz in here and claim concern over your massiff’s behavior! You have half a mind to give this trooper a piece of it when his hand reaches into your line of vision and settles on the back of the sofa, just inches away from where your elbow brushes the fabric, and you still. You swallow. You look up. 

His voice is gentle when he speaks, thoughtful. “I’ve been working with K-9s for years now. I can tell when something’s off and respectfully, ma’am, I picked up on it from you.” 

It’s like the entire planet comes to a screeching halt. You almost can’t find it in you to be mad when he’s speaking so softly. Instead, you feel dazed and more than a little helpless. 

“He’s a shelter rescue, isn’t he?” 

Kriff, is this guy psychic or something? Maybe he has Jedi mind powers. 

“Yeah, uh, I got him from the shelter about a year ago.” Your voice is all congested from the effort of holding back your tears, but the Corrie is polite enough not to mention it. “He’s just scared, that’s all. He was a stray before I got him.” 

He smiles a bit, it’s little more than a quirk in the corners of his mouth, but the way his cheeks dimple causes the light to catch on a scar you hadn’t noticed at first. It’s a grouping of three faint, jagged lines that run from just below his eye to his jaw. Massiff claws. 

“I’ve worked with ones like him before and they’re not lost causes. I might be able to help,” he prompts. His brows have angled upward and it gives his entire face a softer look. “May I?” 

Jaxjo whines again and starts scratching at the door. He’s a good boy, really. He tries his best. He just has some issues you haven’t been able to figure out yet. It hurts that all the work you’ve put in over the past year hasn’t fixed it all like you thought it would, but now there’s an opportunity to make things better. Someone who knows more about massiffs than you do and is willing to help. 

In the end, though, is there really any question? You’d do anything for your little guy. 

You nod and offer the trooper a half-hearted smile. “Sure. Thank you.”

He’s amazing. They’re both amazing. Hound works hard and Jaxjo works even harder, and you’re truly proud of them both. It’s been nearly three weeks now of retraining and reinforcement. Jax has learned that some people are safe, people like Hound and his fellow troopers in the Guard, he’s remembered that even when he’s afraid, you’re there to protect him, and most important of all, you’ve learned that the Coruscant Guard isn’t as bad as you always thought it was. Even if they technically work for the Chancellor. 

It’s also been three weeks of seeing Hound in a new light. He charmed the pants off Jaxjo and without even meaning to, he’s nearly charmed yours off into another dimension. Maker, he’s funny and smart and incredibly patient. He has this specific way of smiling that’s reserved and comforting, and it never fails to make your heart race, even if he’s just smiling at another massiff. And despite all his strength and the intimidating aura his armor, tattoos, and scars give off, he’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. 

So of course, you had to go and fall for him. Of all the inconvenient, idiotic, irritating things you could’ve done, you just had to catch a glimpse of the man beneath the persona and decide that he was the one you wanted. Stupid. In what world would he ever fall for you, the woman who was a nervous wreck upon your first meeting, the woman who couldn’t properly train her own massiff, the woman that he only met because his buddy had to give you a citation? Not to mention, the man is so handsome that he’s painfully out of your league. He ought to be arm candy for some rich holo star or a beautiful senator, not, well, you. It’s a lost cause. Totally doomed. 

You want to ask him out for kaf. There’s a place about five minutes from your apartment that makes the best kaf on the planet and the owner’s known for being friendly with the clones. (You’re pretty sure her name is Beanie, but that could be just a rumor.) Hound’s bound to be the most comfortable there, it’s in a public area so he doesn’t feel trapped in your place and you don’t have to track him down by the senate or the barracks. It’s a great idea and you know if he says yes that it’ll be a nice time. You hope, at least. You really, truly hope it will be. You’re just not sure that he’ll say yes. 

It takes the entire training session for you to work up the courage to ask, which only serves to distract you when you should be paying attention. Your mind keeps wandering to every possible ‘what-if’. What if he says no? It’ll be embarrassing and he might not help with Jax’s training for much longer, but you’d be okay in the end. It wouldn’t kill you. What if he says yes? Well, you’ll probably forget how to speak and make a fool out of yourself, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen already. What if he ditches you at the café? What if he shows up? What if he enjoys himself? What if you enjoy yourself? What if your hands touch when you reach for the napkins and he looks into your eyes and then he leans in and- 

“...ink your buir’s stopped paying attention, eh boy?” 

Jaxjo wiggles his rump and snuffs in Hound’s direction, which is enough to properly pull you back to the present. You blink the romantic haze from your eyes and give your best apologetic smile; Hound simply laughs. 

“Sorry, just thinking. I’m paying attention, I promise.” 

You receive a disbelieving eyebrow arch in response. “Must be serious. You’re not usually this distracted.” 

You take a moment to compose yourself before you blurt out a goofy response. The last thing you need is to spill the beans before you’re even sure if he notices you’re a woman. So you watch the way Jaxjo forces his snout under Hound’s palm, how his tongue lolls out over his fangs and his eyes perk up when Hound gives him a good scratch by his ear hole. He’s so good with him. You’d even go so far as to say - 

“You’re good for each other.” 

That sends both of his eyebrows rocketing up. “Yeah?” 

Your heart goes all warm and fuzzy. Dumb. Stupid. Embarrassing. Crush. Dammit. “Yeah. He responds really well to you and I can tell you’re really good with him. He trusts you.” I trust you, is what you leave unspoken. 

“Well, he’s got a good role model,” he says after a moment. “I hope you’re not trying t’ give him to me because-” 

“No! Kriff, no, of course not. I just... I dunno, I noticed.” 

Hound smiles and his dimples go straight to your heart. “He’s a good boy.” 

“He is.” 

The room goes quiet apart from Jaxjo’s panting and the wild thumping of your heartbeat. He probably can’t hear it. Probably. Sure would be embarrassing if he could. Or if he could see it jumping out at your throat. You lay your palm flat against it just in case. 

“Is that what you were thinking so hard about?” 

“Yes” is what you mean to say. “No” is what comes out. 

“Then what?” 

You gesture vaguely. “Oh, just...” Anything, literally pick anything! The flexing of the muscles in the back of his hand catches your eye. For kriff’s sake, anything but that! “You’re probably gonna be leaving soon, once he’s properly trained.” Okay, okay, that’s good. Viable excuse. Good job. And then your mouth runs away with you again. “And I’ll miss having you around.” 

Death would be a less painful option than whatever fresh hell your current reality is. You make a frantic attempt at backpedaling by clarifying that you and Jax would both miss him and all the very professional advice and help he’s given you, but the more you speak the more your ears start to burn and you start to fold in on yourself. This is quickly turning into a transport wreck and there’s seemingly nothing you can do to stop it. 

Normally Hound’s laugh would be enough to make your cheeks burn and your stomach go all fluttery, but right now it only makes you feel like an idiot. You squeeze your eyes shut, focus on being a totally normal person who knows how to have a totally normal conversation. 

“Heh. Sorry about that.” Like you just bumped into him in the lift or you accidentally cut him in line. You can’t look him in the eyes. Totally normal. “My tongue got all twisted up. That was silly.” 

Jaxjo whines when Hound steps around him. You’re close to whining yourself, you’re so embarrassed. You want to go hide in the bathroom for ten minutes and simply never speak to another soul ever again. Surely that will solve everything. 

“What d’you think, Jax? D’you think your buir’s being silly?” 

Hound’s smiling that terribly fond smile of his and you know he’s looking at you, trying to catch your eye, but you refuse to glance any higher than his nose. That beautiful nose. You’re not sure why it does something for you, but it certainly does. You can’t help wondering what it would feel like pressed into your cheek if he kissed you. 

He takes another step and now he’s standing right in front of you, towering over you, the breadth of his shoulders taking up your entire field of vision. He’s so close that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. Except you’re not looking at him. There’s a spot on his cheek where one of his scars meets his tattoo that has your attention. 

“What does that mean?” you ask. “Buir?” It’s a poor replication of the way he says it. 

“Parent. Mom for you, cyar’ika.” 

Maker, why is his voice so soft all of a sudden? And he’s so close! You can smell his cologne, musky and masculine, and it’s so intoxicating that you have to fight to keep your eyes from rolling back. What is this man doing to you? 

“Do you think about that often?” 

When did your throat get so dry? “About what?” 

The lump in his throat bobs when he swallows. “Me leaving.” 

Danger! Danger! There’s a siren going off in the back of your head. All that bravado you’d been saving up since the start of the session is oozing out of your ears. He’s getting way too close to the truth of the matter and now that he’s there, you’re not sure you want him to know. You’re sure he’s just playing with you now and it should make you mad, it does, but then... he smells so good and his skin looks so soft and you really, really like him, and won’t he just give you a chance? Would that be so bad? 

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” Hound’s exhale hits your cheeks. “Because I’ve thought about it.” 

He doesn’t mean it the way you do. He can’t. You want him to. Does he? 

A surge of adrenaline gives you enough courage to look up through your lashes and properly gauge his expression, and you swear your knees go weak at the sight of his pupils blown out and his brows knit together in the softest expression he’s ever made. You might even venture out to say he looks nervous. 

“I’ve been dreading the day he doesn’t need me anymore.” His voice is trembling a bit, but its timbre is low and rough and that stunning accent of his seems thicker now. “Then I won’t have an excuse t’ come see you anymore.” 

Oh. The realization hits you so hard that you have to take a step back, lean into your sofa to keep from toppling over. He wants to be here, he comes to see you on purpose. He... likes you? The way you like him? 

Your hand settles at the hollow of your throat as you attempt to find the words to express yourself. “Hound, I... I hope I’m reading you correctly. I mean, I hope-” 

“Do you need me t' spell it out for you?” he breathes. 

Fuck, maybe you do. You nod. “Maybe?” 

He smiles, his cheeks dimple, your stomach devolves into flutter-bys as he rests a hand on the sofa backing right by your waist. He’s caging you in, slowly but surely. You’ll let him. His scent and his chest fill your senses as he crowds around you until you’re completely pinned to the furniture and the only other place to go is into him. Your mind starts racing because he’s so impossibly close and he’s even more beautiful, and what if he can feel your stomach against his, what if he can see your every pore and stray hair, and what if he likes you and what if he doesn’t? 

“I’d like t' kiss you.” 

Finally, blessedly, you smile. “I’d like that, too.” 

His touch is feather-light on your cheek, but you can still make out the callouses lining the palm of his hand, the scent of leather and sweat and blaster residue. Jaxjo huffs. And then Hound kisses you. He’s warm and soft, just like you imagined he would be, and the taste of him is pleasant. There’s a hint of kaf lingering on his lips that you absently chase after with your tongue, but he takes it as a cue to open up for you. Your tongue stutters for a moment and he starts to pull back once he senses it, but you can’t let him pull away, not when this is everything you want, when he’s here and willing and so, so sweet. 

Your hand cups the back of his neck as you surge forward and sweep your tongue into his mouth, up and over his teeth until it rubs against his and he sighs against you. It’s all a blur after that. His fingers wind up fisted in your clothes and your hands are pressing into his chest, smoothing over his shoulders, rubbing over the shaved section of his hair, and you can’t stop a single one of the happy, contented little sounds that he manages to pull from you. 

Until Hound suddenly lurches into you and you both go toppling over the back of the sofa. Hound winds up going literal head over heels and lands in a very undignified pile at the base of the sofa while you end up half on, half off the cushions with your feet dangling over the top. Jaxjo’s happy little face pops up between your ankles. He’s all eyes and tongue and drool, and the very picture of feigned innocence. 

You finally find your courage between bouts of laughter when you tilt your head so it’s hanging off the sofa and dare to nuzzle Hound’s shoulder with your nose. His eyes are twinkling when he looks at you. 

“Hey,” you chuckle. 

“Hey.” 

“You wanna know what I was really thinking about?” He nods and you think you feel one of those fireworks go off in your chest. “I was thinking maybe we could go get kaf sometime, just the two of us.” 

There’s a spark of mischief in the look he gives you. “What, no Jaxjo?” 

You roll your eyes. “Jaxjo, Shmaxjo. I’m not interested in him.” 

His hand settles along your jawline, gentle and sensual and blush inducing. “But you’re interested in me, huh?” 

“Shut up, maybe I am.” 

Hound smirks, probably the first true smirk you’ve ever seen on him. “Good,” he says before granting you another kiss. “I’m interested in you too, cyar’ika.” 

“And what does that mean?” 

He noses at your forehead and huffs a laugh just substantial enough to stir your eyelashes. “I’ll tell you over kaf sometime.”

prompt: fireworks 🎆✔️

@clonexreaderbingo

taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit

#arf trooper hound #sergeant hound #sergeant hound x reader #sergeant hound x you #hound x reader #hound x you #star wars #tcw #cfb2023 #my first venture into the corries!! i haven't read much hound stuff but i think i did p good! #tried to give him my own twist since i'm not sure what all the corrie guard headcanons are #his appearance is also inspired by barb wire era tem and the fact that i'm a goner for stupidly handsome men with nice hair

[ladyanidala]

Oddly enough, threatening the great and fearsome Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard worked surprisingly well...

#star wars #fanfic #fanfic writer #ao3 #commander fox #clone wars #tcw #coruscant guard #commander thorn #thorn makes an appearance #and i love it #we love you thorn #fluff #commander fox x reader #the clone wars fanfiction #cc 1010

[ladynostalgic125]

I've started writing shorts stories about Anakin and Ahsoka (not in a romantic way, but more like in a siblings way) to get deeper in their relationship for how complex it is and because of how many things come to my mind of what could have happened if...

I don't know yet if to put them here or not, since I have never written fics (and even lees in english since it's not my first language), but I needed to do this at least for me, because they're so special to me for a lot of reasons 💙🧡.

#shoul i do it? #rex would also appear #padme too #even obi wan #ahsoka and anakin #anakin x padme #padme #anidala #anakin #anakin and ahsoka #snips and skyguy #skyguy #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #tcw fic

[saintmurd0ck]

lakeside dreamin'

masterlist

pairing: jedi general anakin skywalker x f!reader

summary: anakin reminisces about your lives together while he's away fighting in the clone wars

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of canon events in TCW, canon typical mentions of warfare, some smut/spice, mentions of sex, minors DNI 18+ only

a/n: to the one anon who requested this maybe a year ago? i saw clone wars anakin and it was over for my brain 🫠 anyway love you guys and leave a comment or reblog if you liked this! 🥺

song pairing: love on the brain (rihanna)

The war was taking its toll.

Day after day, planet after planet, all Anakin knew now was his place on the battlefield. And his role in leading the victory for the Jedi and the Republic, even though their dogma preached peace, not violence. Every skirmish brought a new kind of horror to his once uncomplicated life, whether it was watching Separatist droids and clone troopers alike, cut down as easily as marsh reeds, or the simple fact that his relationship with the Force was dwindling towards something impure. Something he couldn’t make sense of, and would surely raise more questions than answers if he were to confide in his Masters. It wasn’t that he contemplated reaching towards the Dark side, or thought of the kind of evil only the Sith could endure; it was more like an isolating numbness that spread from within, and before long, Anakin felt the cloud settle over his mind.

He was tired of seeing smoke — the kind that billowed in every direction, stinking of despair and lost hope on his front, despite the war turning to the Republic’s favour. It was the sound of unending blaster fire and the repetitive ignition of his lightsaber that haunted his nightmares, and with only the company of his clone legion, his Padawan Ahsoka and the occasional appearance from Obi-Wan, he felt himself starting to slip.

He was overwhelmed, and encumbered with burden. 

Never before had he experienced such guilt, anger and suffering — towards his army, towards the civilians caught in the crossfire, and towards his relationship with you. 

The secret life the two of you led, away from the Order, felt like something out of another galaxy, another lifetime. It was as if eons had passed since he’d last seen you, and yet the world was constantly evolving — not towards freedom, but into a more destructive version of its past. Even for a Jedi General (and, one could argue, because he was a Jedi General), Anakin had little comfort, and much less sway in which systems he visited and what he took part in. Seeing you was absolutely out of the question, but it wasn’t like he bothered to even ask, out of fear of inviting a lecture from Obi-Wan, or Maker-forbid, an audience with Master Yoda. 

At least things like facilitating training for the Onderon rebels allowed him to feel more of himself, and to an extent, a sort of unity with the Council, but all of that was quickly replaced by the more sinister side of the Separatist Alliance, such as the trainwreck on Zygerria. Liberation didn’t exist there. Not until Anakin showed up.

It was these events that really compelled him to look inwards, to not just seek the Force’s guidance, but to use it in tandem with a coping mechanism that would get him through the war. 

And so the vignettes began. Slowly, at first. 

It started off as little glimpses of your life together, slices of euphoric nostalgia that weaved their way into Anakin’s being. He didn’t realise just how much he yearned for you; not simply the way your skin felt on his, but the pureness of your energy, the reminder that good truly did exist in this world. As much as these images were a solace to his sanity, they brought about a sense of malaise. Contrition, actually, if he sought the Force for the purpose of clarity. Even though it all existed in his head, allowing himself these indulgences felt like once again, he was breaking Code. 

But could it really have been that bad, if it honed his focus? If it drew him back to the bigger picture, of the why? Reminding himself of who it was he fought for didn’t erase the atrocities, but it gave him that flicker of hope, knowing that the sum of his actions equalled a better world for you. 

And some selfish, miniscule part of him figured that if he could lead the victory, he’d be pardoned when the Order inevitably found out about the life the two of you shared. It isn’t as if no-one already knew. He was sure Ahsoka was aware. Rex, too. He doubted when it came to Obi-Wan, but then again very little got past his Master. 

While the memories of you lay fresh before his eyes, they seemed to sharpen at specific points throughout the day; often in the thick of battle, or when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, nothing but thin shafts of moonlight illuminating his body. It’s like they were stitched perfectly amongst the real action, scattered at perfect intervals that jerked his body into manoeuvre.

The sweetest images had always featured the lake. 

Armed with nothing more but his wits, his back pressed against the cold, wet stone in a cave on Vanqor, he reminisced about that first night with you by the lakeside. The sweet smell of wildflowers carried in the breeze, heightened by his affinity for the Force. He recalled the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore, and how the two moons cast their milky glow upon the shimmering surface of the water. And you — radiant, almost ethereal in the soft light, and the way your lips brushed against his neck, filling him with the kind of heat that flooded all at once. Not even the screech of the pursuing gundark could have interrupted this moment in time. He felt his breathing go ragged, because he remembered what happened next. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the way he moved inside you, and how you tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing chaste kisses to his mouth, his chest, whispering his name in sinful bliss. The gundark didn’t stand a chance. Not when Anakin’s motivation for getting out alive laid in sweet promise, embedded in these visions.

His name felt the most natural rolling off your tongue, nevermind that that was truly the last real thing he possessed, unmarred by time and the influence of the Jedi. In that moment, when you’d taken him over the edge with you, crying his name so loud he swore someone had heard, he knew he’d give it over to you if you’d asked.

He thought of the lake again when he was in Felucia, crouched low amongst the sillum. His lightsaber grew heavy in his hand, the ridges suddenly awkward in his palm, but the grip he’d started to lose on his lifeline gave rise to something he couldn’t ignore. 

It was another temperate day and the sun had created the most brilliant reflections on the surface of the lake. With the grasses and trees swaying in the wind, Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. He didn’t prod or poke, but rather he cast a wide net, a delicate caress, to connect with the life that teemed. It sang to him in a multi-layered harmony, acting as a prominent reminder that the Force flowed in all living things. And when his eyes fluttered open, he watched you carefully as you walked towards the water, your feet crunching on the smooth pebbles that made up the beach. You turned around to give him a dazzling smile, moving with deliberation to slip off your clothes. Your laughter echoed in the crisp air as you dived into the lake, disappearing under a swathe of emerald green, only to resurface in the middle with a large grin plastered to your face. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, to shed his clothing on the spot. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of what happened shortly after. 

Sometimes it was hard to return to the present, to remember that he’d sleep alone that night while you were only just waking up, systems away, most likely after another fitful slumber.  There were times where he thought these visions would serve no other purpose than to derail him, when the temptation of your touch shadowed his desire for victory. These moments guided him to channel the Force within, so as to remind himself of why he was doing this in the first place. Because it was more than just a coping mechanism. It was an anchor. A thrumming pulse point. A gentle acknowledgement of the life he wanted to come back to.

It’s then that he wondered when enough would be enough, when the war would come to a stalemate, as it so often did in their history. The tide was turning, and he knew it.

And there it was again, that kernel of hope, that ember of light that shone in the depths of his soul. Even reduced to a ghost in his memory, you were tangible, so tangible now. He wouldn’t let the Separatists win. He couldn’t, because there was too much at stake. And so if thinking of you, in these ways, helped him remember that, he wasn’t going to stop. 

Not for anyone. 

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats on your milestone!

Can I get a garnet with Echo and Spring?

Butterfly Kisses

Summary: You love Echo, enough to fight your family over him. That's okay, though, because Echo loves it.

Pairing: TBB Echo x Reader

Word Count: 645

Prompt: Garnet - Protective Love

Warnings: Echo is making implications

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you! I hope you like this one! And I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you don't mind that I went with TBB version of Echo rather then TCW version of Echo, you didn't specify.

You genuinely hadn’t meant for the day to go so badly. All you wanted to do was spend the day with Echo now that the last of winter has faded away and spring has finally arrived.

You didn’t know that your parents were visiting your brother. 

And you didn’t know that they were going to go on a picnic at the same hiking trail that you like to walk with Echo.

If you had, you would have changed your plans for the day.

“It’s okay, love. Let it go.” Echo whispers in your ear as your mothers, scathing comment, about Echo and about his appearance thrum through your head with the same concussive force as a cannon. 

You grind your teeth, “She shouldn’t talk about you like that.”

“It’s alright, love.” He gently pulls you away from your family, “She’s not saying anything that I haven’t thought about myself.”

That was definitely not the right thing to say, because now you want to fist fight your mom and Echo’s lack of self-esteem. So you take a deep breath and wrap your hand around his, “We should probably leave before you have to bail me out of jail.” You finally admit.

He laughs quietly, and tugs you further away from your family, and you’re grateful to see that your father finally seems to realize that your mother is making a scene and hurriedly pulls her in the other direction.

And then you’re not thinking about your family, as Echo directs you to a field full of yellow and pink flowers and tugs you between the branches of the willow tree situated on the lake, and you’re pressed against the rough bark of the tree with him leaning over you.

His fingers lightly trail against your cheek and down the side of your neck, and his smile is soft and adoring, “I love you.” Echo breathes out, “You're so ridiculous, sometimes, and you’re so quick to jump to my defense, and I love you.”

You grin at him, “You deserve to have someone willing to fight for you.”

“Well, I definitely have that in you.” He leans in and brushes his lips against yours, it’s a teasing kiss, not even a real, proper, kiss. The brush of his lips designed to tease you, more than anything else.

You try to kiss him properly, but he moves so he’s just out of your reach, “Echo-” You pout up at him, “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

His gorgeous eyes sparkle with mischief, “Oh, I think I’d much rather tease you.”

“But why?” You ask, your pout becoming more pronounced.

“Because you’re so cute when you’re all pouty and whiny for me.” He ghosts his lips across yours again, and then trails his lips, just barely touching you, across your cheeks, and then down your neck and up the other side.

“I’m not whiny,” You say, sounding slightly breathless as you lean into him.

“No?” His lips find purchase under your ear and he lightly nips the sensitive skin there, pulling a, frankly, embarrassing noise from your lips. “That’s not what it sounded like this morning.” He nips the sensitive spot again, “Or last night. Or yesterday morning.”

Your face heats, “Echo,” Okay, that was definitely a whine.

A smug grin crosses his face, as he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours, “I love how protective you are of me.” His lips hover just over yours, “I love watching you get so protective over me. It makes me want to do so many things to you.”

Your face heats a little more, but you slide your arms around his neck, “Like what?”

A small grin plays on his lips, “How about I show you instead?” He offers as he lowers his head just enough that his lips are barely touching yours, “How quiet can you be, ad’ika?”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[mera-k1]

Hii!! Can we get a first kiss hcs with TCW and/or AKYR, please? Whether its cute giggly ones or the slow and steady,,,🤲🌹

(((I actually sent an anon ask on this but i got a notif that something went wrong with it lol, but lmk if it actually slides into your inbox:0)))

Have a nice one!

it never did come into my inbox but dw!! hope you enjoy the fluff~ later note: GOT WAY TOO LONG... PUTTING AKYR IN A SEP POST!!

First Kiss

TCW x gn!reader

-fluff, idk u guys kiss 😱, not rlly in order so here's order i wrote in -> yohei, shiki, ryu, saimon

having to watch your boyfriend clean counters and sweep the floor wasn't the most exciting thing in the world. but.. he didn't look half bad while doing it. with the sleeves of his bartender 'uniform' rolled up and his focused expression, you couldn't help but admire him. well, okay.. you hadn't been dating that long but the crush you had on yohei was... you've had to for a little longer than you'd like to admit. so when he accepted your confession, you were extremely surprised that the cold-fronted man had actually accepted.

besides that, you really just had wanted to spend some time with him lately. after all, he'd been working so much! why not take some time off and spend some time with you? that's what you had proposed but-

"i needa finish cleaning, babe."

"oh.."

those were the only words that had been spoken since you had gotten here. letting out a dramatic sigh, you slumped down onto the bar counter that he had just finished cleaning. the damp, cool counter smelled of cleaning supplies and you wrinkled your nose at the sudden strong smell and lifted your head back up to wipe your now wet cheek.

"what're you sighing for?" he looked over after you had let out the dramatic sigh, cloth in hand as he wiped down the opposite end of the counter from you.

"i just wanna spend time with you!" you put your elbow onto the counter, leaning your face into your hand as you stared at him. yohei returned your sigh with one of his own as he shook his head.

"i told you i've-"

"i know what you told me!" you huffed out at him, a pout forming on your face as he walked over to you.

"tell you what," he started, looking at your pouty face. yeah... there was no way he could say no to you now. he was being a little mean, wasn't he? he briefly leaned down, planting a quick peck on your lips before walking back over to the previously abandoned cloth he had been using to clean. "we'll go out somewhere once--" you didn't hear the rest as your face turned pink as you suddenly shot up, shock evident on your face.

"y-you kissed me!" you covered your mouth, half from shock and the other half... you weren't really sure. "that was the first time you've ever kissed me!" he looked over at you, a faint pink color appearing on his cheeks.

"...mh. i- i guess i did."

okay so.. maybe it was a little bit awkward, eating lunch with your boyfriend. or well... new boyfriend. not like you've ever had one before but it felt awkward to sit by him during lunch uninvited. but... it's kind of an unspoken thing that you're allowed to do that, right? you had been friends beforehand but... this whole relationship thing was kinda hard... especially with your shy boyfriend.

"uh- uhm- th-thank you for eating with me, (name)..." shiki mumbled, shyly. his face growing pink with blush. you weren't sure if he was flustered by you unexpectedly sitting by him or if he had just remembered that you two were technically dating after that mess of a confession from you. god, you didn't even want to think about it right now...

"no problem!" you gave him a content smile which seemed to make his face go redder. even though it hadn't been long, you were happy that this sweetheart of a guy was your boyfriend. he might be timid but you still loved him!

"ah.. (name)?" he looked over at you, a hesitant expression on his face. it was almost impossible to tell what he was about to ask you with that expression. it almost looked like pity, but you knew it wasn't- but it also looked like shyness? but he was shy about a whole lot of things!

"what's up?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation casual and not think about the possible question.

"w- would you like to go somewhere after school?" he mumbled, looking down shyly. "ah-! with- with me! if that's okay..." he quickly added. as if it wasn't obvious enough! of course you would love to go on a little date with him!

"of course! why wouldn't it be okay, shiki?" you gave him a smile as he almost immediately brightened up too.

"really?!" you nodded happily in response, getting up from your spot on the bench beside him and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before taking your bag and rushing off as the bell rang.

"i'll meet you outside your class after school, okay?!" you called as you jogged away, leaving him an embarrassed and blushing mess as he stared at you disappear in shock.

some days, you weren't sure if you should regret asking ryu out. deep down you knew you didn't regret it, of course, but times when ryu was running around the room in a dino onesie, pretending to be a dinosaur made you wonder what you had really gotten yourself into when you asked him out.

"ROARR!! i'm gonna get ya, (name)!!" he made a scary face as he ran over to where you were sitting with his arms outstretched, ready to grab you. you couldn't help but laugh at his childishness when he tackled you down onto the carpet. "iiii... got you!!!"

you both became a fit of giggles after ryu tackled you down, cuddling in closer to you as if being on the floor was a normal occurrence for the two of you. "okay, okay.. it's time to actually get up and ready, ryu." you patted his head as he childishly wrapped his arms around you and shook his head with a pout.

"not yet! just a little longer, 'kay? and then we will blast off, captain!!" he declared, suddenly an astronaut instead of a dinosaur now. you couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up inside of you.

"from dinosaur to astronaut? what a drastic switch!" you playfully teased him before he suddenly jumped up, pointing up towards the ceiling (which you assumed he was pointing towards the sky) and brought his finger back down to point at you on the floor.

"yes! we will be blasting off to the moon! astronaut ryu and (name) are making it to the moon!" he declared loudly as you got up from your spot on the ground and walked over to his excited face.

"i'm sure we will, ryu, but it's time to get ready, okay?" you smiled at him before he sighed, seemingly accepting the fact that he couldn't sit and have fun with you all day in his room.

"one thing before we blast off!" he gave a determined look, his hands on his hips. you raised your eyebrows at him as a silent 'go ahead'. "astronaut ryu needs a kiss before he gets ready!" you would have been flustered by his sudden request but seeing him so determined made you forget the blush that had burned onto your face when he said it. leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his smiling face before he cheered leaving you to look at him with a content smile on your face. yeah, he was definitely the one for you.

"you don't have to force yourself, love," the deep, comforting voice of saimon sounded beside you as you both sat on his bed. you wanted to take your relationship a little farther and sleep beside him instead of sleeping in another room whenever you visited him. "take your time."

"no, no it's alright. i trust you and stuff, but i'm just nervous..." you sighed, nerves getting the better of you as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. his hand lifted from its spot behind you and rubbed your back, gently nudging you closer to him.

"you don't have to rush anything, love. i'll wait for you to be ready." he assured you as he rubbed your back, leaning down to kiss your temple.

your hand reached up to touch his face gently, leaning up to reach his face as well now and kiss him. for real this time. although it was your first real kiss with him, it felt so natural and comfortable as his hand held yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles as you both held the kiss for what felt like minutes till you had to pull away for air.

"...sorry! i should have asked before doing that-" he had a soft smile on his face as you rambled on, flustered that you had done that without even asking him beforehand.

"it's alright, i enjoyed it just as much as you did. nothing to fret over, my love." god... this man would be the death of you without even trying..

#♡ fics ♡ #paradox live x reader #paralive x reader #yohei kanbayashi x reader #naoakira saimon x reader #ryu natsume x reader #shiki ando x reader

[freesia-writes]

I haven't watched TBB yet but I've been spoiled but not as much. I'm also not gonna be able to watch S3 yet because I need to finish TCW, but I have been so so so so so very massively in love with Wrecker ;///////;. I gave up rushing so I'm gonna just gonne binge on all the fluffy Wrecker fics for Happy Hearts Month ♥.

May I please have a Wrecker x Reader fic where:

Reader and Wrecker were supposed to meet either for a date or something and Reader is late so Wrecker ate what he was supposed to give to Reader because idk maybe he's anxious or worried? It can be cookies, cupcakes, chocolates, a cake — anything sweet.

And maybe Reader did the same? Ate what she was supposed to give Wrecker and when they met they just both realize they did the same thing cause there'd be crumbs or something and sjdlaksjdlkajdlkajdakljdalkd.

Just over all feel good wholesomeness. I don't mind any flirting or slight nsfw, but bear hugs and all over kisses from Wrecker would b suuuuuuperrrrrrrrr adorbs!

Maybe a second date vibe?

Only if you can, pretty please and thank you ♥. Sorry if it's too much!

I can't wait for you to get to enjoy the series! I kinda took this in a sliiiiightly different direction for funsies. ;) Dividers by @stars-n-spice from this post here!

Wrecker x GN Reader

1.5k words

No content warnings

The air in the bustling corridors of the base buzzed with anticipation as you hurried toward your meeting spot with Wrecker. Your heart raced with excitement, eager to spend time with the big-hearted clone who had captured your attention. You’d spent extra time getting ready, wanting to make a good impression, as it was still only your second date. It had been a surprising few weeks that you’d been able to be stationed on the same base, catching little conversations with him when his squad was on site for a few days before being shipped off again, and the romance had blossomed immediately. 

You’d been so shocked and delighted at his willingness to pursue something, having assumed he’d make excuses or find it entirely unattainable for someone in his position. But your first date had been so simple, so sweet… You were blown away and entirely infatuated from then on, and you had to wait another few weeks for Clone Force 99 to return. 

So when you were finally able to greet him with a beaming smile, immediately finding yourself wrapped in his unmatched, delightfully warm hug upon his return, you’d made plans immediately for a second date, excited for the convenient upcoming holiday that celebrated love and romance in all its forms. 

Rounding the corner, you spotted Wrecker standing there, a hopeful look in his eyes. He looked so dapper, you thought you would burst with joy. He’d found some basic cargo pants and was still wearing his black shirt, but he’d added some kind of sport coat that looked two sizes too small, yet gave him an adorably debonair appearance. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and you quickened your pace, eager to close the distance between you. 

But as you approached, you couldn't help but notice the guilty expression on Wrecker's face, immediately sending you into a spiral of overthinking.  Confusion flickered across your features as you came to a stop in front of him.

"Hi!” you said, trying to be nonchalant. But his reaction evoked the true question out of you. “What… Erm… Something wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern.

Wrecker's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "Uh, well, you see... I had a real special treat for you… Something I found at a food cart outside the base. It was so fancy…" he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. You smiled at his irresistible charm.

“Well what’s wrong with that?” you said playfully, gently grazing a hand up and down the outside of his arm. 

“I ate it,” he blurted, slowly lifting his eye to yours with an expression of shame and a touch of mischief.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You ate it?" you repeated, your tone a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"Yeah, I, uh, got nervous and... it looked really good," Wrecker confessed, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

A laugh bubbled up from your lips as you reached out to gently pat Wrecker's arm. "It's okay, Wrecker. I'm sure whatever it was, it was delicious," you reassured him with a warm smile. “And that’s kind of adorable,” you confessed, blushing yourself as his jaw dropped and his eyebrows rose. “Besides, dinner with you IS the treat,” you snickered.

Wrecker's expression brightened at your understanding, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks... You're the best," he said earnestly.

With a shared chuckle, you fell into step beside each other, the awkwardness of the moment melting away in the warmth of your easy camaraderie. As you walked, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Wrecker, marveling at the way his eyes sparkled with life and his smile lit up the room.

Before long, you found yourselves at a quaint little café nestled in a corner of the nearby town, the scent of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air. Wrecker held the door open for you with a gallant flourish, a proud grin on his face as he ushered you inside. As you settled into a cozy booth by the window, your cheeks almost hurt from smiling when he squeezed onto the cushy bench seat beside you instead of sitting across from you.

“This alright?” he asked with a grin. 

“Heck yes,” you quipped, and the way he rested his broad palm on your knee as you considered your menu made your heart skip a beat. So polite, so comforting, so protective… All in a single touch? How did you get so lucky… Conversation flowed freely as you considered your options, ordering a few different things to share between the two of you. 

Hours passed, with a hearty dinner followed by some little bites of dessert and some hot coffees to finish the whole thing off, and you found yourself stuffed, warm, and unbelievably content as you leaned against his side. He’d just finished a detailed description of a mission that had gotten steadily more wild as it went on, and by the end you didn’t even know if it was an entirely true story. But it didn’t matter; you were in heaven and would weasel the truth out of him later if needed. 

You finished with a walk back to the base, taking the long way around and sharing some gum that the restaurant had given you along with your bill. You blew bubbles, snuck gazes at each other side to side, and meandered slowly. The conversation dwindled a little, leaving a comfortable silence that stretched until you reached the door where you would part ways. 

You stopped, slowly turning to face him with a demure look on your face. It felt like a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from, and he opened his arms to invite you into another hug that conjured up every warm, happy moment you’d ever had. A sigh fell from your lips as you leaned into his chest, shifting your bag back over your shoulder as it swung forward to whack him in the hip.

“This was really fun, Wrecker,” you said earnestly, pulling away only a little bit, leaving your arms around his hips.

“It was a blast!” he exclaimed, resting a hand on each of your shoulders. “Can we do it again?”

“Yes please!” you giggled. “Right now?”

“I wish!” He joined you in laughter, gently rubbing up and down the outside of your arms with polite affection. “Tomorrow? We should have some time after exercises.”

“Absolutely.” With another ill-disguised sigh, you started to pull away, slowly turning to take your own path home for the evening. 

“Hey, um…” he called, and you bounded back to face him without a thought to how quickly you moved. 

“Yes?” you asked, unabashedly eager.

“Do you… uh…” He definitely wasn’t looking for any excuse to keep conversing with you. “Do you have a tissue or somethin for my gum? The flavor has been gone for a long time now.”

“Of course,” you laughed, swinging your bag back over your shoulder and rummaging around absently. You felt the corner of a napkin, lost in his puppy-dog eyes, and pulled it as hard as you could… producing… with a flourish… a shower of chocolate crumbs that would have caught anyone’s attention as they scattered in a puff from your hand all over the ground. “Oh! Uhh… That’s… That’s nothing,” you spluttered suddenly.

Wrecker tilted his head, interest piqued now at how quick you were to deflect. 

“Oh?” he said quietly, a little gleam appearing in his eye.

“Here… Here’s your tissue!” you said, flushing bright red.

“Come on,” he insisted, drawing closer and bending down playfully. “What’s the secret of the napkin…” You fumbled for words, shaking the rest of the crumbs out of the napkin and about to begin when he gasped. “Wait! Nooo…”

Did he seriously figure it out? He couldn’t have…

“Did you…” He paused to giggle. “Did you have a snack in here?”

“Maybe…” you said slowly.

“Was it something you were going to bring for me?” 

“Mayyyybe…” you smiled, covering your face with a hand.

“And you ate it?!” The final piece of the puzzle was laid into place in a delightful exclamation, joy brightening his face as your reaction confirmed his guess. “Oh ho ho! How the turn tables… have… Ha!”

“I was too busy getting ready to eat lunch today so I was really hungry and I didn’t think you’d miss it if I never said anything about it and it’s been a long week and my self-control was really--” you dove in, laughing as you tried to explain yourself, but Wrecker waved it all away, bundling you in his arms again for another boisterous hug. He gave you a squeeze, still chuckling, as he gazed down at you fondly.

“Well now I have to take you out for dessert again sometime,” he reasoned. “Also, I think I love you already.”

#the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #x reader insert #wrecker x you #wrecker #wrecker fluff #wrecker fic #tbb wrecker fanfic #tbb wrecker fic #wrecker fanfiction #wrecker one shot #tbb one shot #fluffy one shot

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 10: Troubled Water

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: Banter, fluff, ANGST, references to war/drowning/migraines, descriptions of pain/violence/slight injury, near-death experiences, super worried/concerned Obi, Reader really going through it 👀

Summary: A week following your and Obi-Wan's dalliance with The Muntuur, you decide to spend the day meditating on the famed Temple contemplation balcony. But after an unexpected visitor disrupts your concentration, you find yourself trapped within a new, wildly dangerous situation. Good thing Obi-Wan is nearby to share in the risk.

Song Inspo: Bridge Over Troubled Water — Simon & Garfunkel

Words: 13.4k (please take breaks I beg you)

A/n: Soooo splitting up this chapter wouldn't have made sense so y'all getting a two-for-one deal for the Part I finale, which hopefully makes up for the big delay lol. This will be the longest chapter I ever post I promise you. I’ve been so excited to write this one. It's a bit intense. Song inspo for this chapter is supes important. Like, it’s literally Obi singing to the reader, I CANNOT (there’s a line talking about his “silver girl” 😭)— ALSO updates will be slightly less frequent for the following chapters because we ‘bout to be officially entering tcw plot lines and imma need more time to review them lol. Also, will be using the next week or so to respond to requests 😋 As always, please let me know your thoughts in the comments, and be sure to tell me if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Anyways, enjoy 😈

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Oh, when darkness comes

And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

— Paul Simon

The glittering, golden rays of Coruscant’s sun submerged your resting eyelids in its warmth, only to be abated by the partial shade of plump bushes whose orange-red gradients reigned proudly around the meditative stance you now held. That, and the occasional gust of cooling breeze, which brushed across your cheeks in its periodic hold on swaying shrubbery, trembling at its mercy. Still, despite this wind tunnel encircling the Temple’s primary spire, it was not enough to limit the sporadic vegetation’s effectiveness in secluding your crisscrossed posture from the rest of the rather exposed contemplation balcony that skirted the tower’s median.

You had discovered this bronze-floored platform of rest and meditation during that first week at the Temple, surmising its intended purpose from the few Jedi you’d spied engaging in those familiar, solitary explorations against a backdrop of the wider District. It was one of the primary reasons you’d decided to return to this spot when you had the chance— to engage in such like-minded behavior with fellow Jedi for the first time in many years.

For the first time since Qui-Gon wished the Force to be with you for the very last time.

However, despite earmarking the serene terrace’s smooth architecture and scattered plant life as a sensible spot for meditation, you’d only really had a chance to visit it this afternoon— three weeks since your arrival on Coruscant.

It was hard to forget that, in the days following your first Temple appearance, perplexing headaches had severely limited any propensity for introspective freedom. Initially, by coercing you to find the next best thing in terms of a quiet place to meditate by the suddenness with which they arrived. Frustrating the immersion necessary to delve deeply into your inner being.

But that was nothing compared to the searing pain which radiated throughout your body in each cognitive session following a certain, fateful hour—

In which you bestowed a name upon the affliction’s sensation in hopes of understanding it better.

Black Water.

You shook your head haphazardly, eyes still sealed shut while your subconscious attempted to dispel that particular thought without disrupting your current, and long sought after, communion with the Force.

With a lift of each wrist to protruding knees, you relaxed your palms open, as if to better catch the swirling energies like falling snowflakes that absorbed into chilled fingers. A gliding stream that energized your veins and stood unparalleled when weighed against the prior weeks you were desperately trying to put behind you.

In a way, finally tasting the Force’s unfathomably profound vibrancy with such renewed vigor was enough to comfortably remind yourself that you could dive as cavernously as you pleased, since the listlessness of penetrating headaches was now a time of the past.

And you really did have Obi-Wan to thank for that.

In an afternoon with The Muntuur, you’d unexpectedly uncovered that mindless sprints down seedy tunnels, hours with your nose stuck in a holobook’s blue glow, and playing copilot with Anakin were not your only options to dampen those sharp stabs into dull throbs. With a suddenness akin to explosive laughter, those moments that followed ignited an inner epiphany—

That the power you siphoned from the Force by focusing your mind on others acted as some sort of natural medicine, as a booster that couldn’t be equated.

Whether that was training beings in the intricacies of a long-lost Jedi device or finding the humor in the attempts that followed, your mind gradually discovered the strength that wafted from these seemingly trivial interactions like sparks off a campfire.

In hindsight, you kicked yourself for not recognizing the presence of this strange ability earlier. Though, having previously held the revered title of ‘Sole Planetary Being,’ it hadn’t given you much in terms of options for discovering it on your own. But even then, when finally faced with an endless sea of individuals following your daring escape from Hoth, it still all took much longer than you would have liked.

Mostly because, during those few heart-to-hearts with Anakin, you had appreciated that the baring of souls— for an instant even so fleeting it could be compared to the flick of a lightsaber— was enough to reconnect you to the Force’s lifeline like a falling anchor. It was something that helped you read the young Jedi just as well as it saved you from being launched into space by a certain garbage pit acceleration shield. Yet still, you hadn’t read it as anything more besides some possible understanding that a long-foretold prophecy drew between The Guardian and The Chosen.

You just never really put two and two together.

Until it stared you right in the migraine-dulled face with blue eyes, curled auburn hair, and a well-kept beard.

And, obviously, once this particular realization clicked, you were sure to lean into these revitalizing energies with every repeat opportunity that presented itself.

In the week that followed, you and Obi-Wan excitedly wrung out a few more collective hours with The Muntuur. In which he steadily absorbed the programming basics while you conditioned yourself to hold any semblance of composure during the Jedi’s subsequent twirls around invisible foes.

A skill you had yet to fully master.

And then, in the next few, rousing days, as the communications system was re-secured, and ramping up Council meetings dragged Kenobi away to organize and assign new deployments, you soon faced the inescapable reality of extending this perspective to other day-to-day moments that excluded the Jedi Master.

And you certainly did your best.

You’d draw on the vigor of swapping taunts with Anakin’s passionate personality in afternoon spars. And focus your senses on welcoming Master Windu’s signature into your thoughts— though still with little success. Even those periodic study sessions with Ahsoka became just as much a chance to learn more about the confident Padawan’s perspectives and person as a way to strengthen your mind against the piercing throbs that weakened like a dying candle following each of these interactions.

Consequently, it was during these same last four or five days that you’d finally found yourself beginning to open up to the beings who’d rescued you from Hoth. Because it wasn’t until you were forced to gather up fortitude from the rejuvenating effect of drawing on your connection’s ability to swirl in others— like plucking flower petals from a field of solidarity— did you realize your mistake since arriving on Hoth.

That, in an effort to come to terms with Qui-Gon’s death, you’d closed yourself off to the impact of other’s around you. Giving all of yourself to every prophetic instant with an emphasis on Anakin’s well-being without truly finding a moment for yourself to allow this new connection with the Order to take hold. Without permitting yourself the chance to absorb all the strengths such unity imbued.

Nonetheless, the more you unlocked your rigid chest to the beings surrounding you, the less frequent and tender those shooting pangs became, as they slunk away like the migration of a long winter season. All the way up until the last few days, in which, for a lovely change, the familiar, hammering pressure at your sinuses never came.

Still, no matter how well this unique manipulation of the Force aided you in your affliction, it still left you quite unsettled, weighing down your sternum like a misaligned rib.

You’d never heard of a Force Ability that drew upon a Jedi’s connection to other beings. Nor a power so unique that its strength was determined by the wielder’s level of familiarity with the associations they extracted from. A concept that immeasurably wise Jedi like Master Yoda and Master Windu would be quite uncertain of, you confidently ascertained. Because, in a way, this talent seemed to teeter on the edge of what was accepted by the Jedi Code by their strict standards.

It was moments like these that you’d wished Qui-Gon was here.

He always understood exactly what to say, and precisely what to do.

But your late Master was gone, and you could only make the best decision you could at this moment.

So, deciding to take a page out of his book, you determined it necessary to hold off on sharing this new tidbit with anyone, especially the Council, until you knew more.

Another chilly gust of wind whipped at your hair, snapping off a few clusters of brittle leaves that quivered past closed eyes, sparkling in the Force like bustling dots for your senses to discern. It deepened your concentration, imploring you to consider the sweeping impact of such an odd development. How it rippled into your past of isolation and everlasting hardship, and how it newly affected your approach of the Order. Mostly, you chewed over the possibility that finding strength in connecting with the Order and the beings it housed was all a wider symptom of your purpose.

You were The Guardian, after all. An individual whose entire existence premised on the notion of putting others before themselves. It was only rational that a creature of prophecy such as that would gather strength from those they were tasked with protecting.

Anakin, the Order, and, in a way, the Galaxy itself.

And, now that you’d finally reoriented your bearings, you were finally planning to put that new solidity to use.

Once more, you stretched your lungs with a rapturous inhale, taking in the contemplation balcony’s encompassing, earthy scents that barely cut the surrounding district’s gaseous fumes as they crawled over the fringe of your senses.

It was easy to see why Ahsoka complained about the lingering smells of speeder exhausts or freshly welded metal any time she considered meditating outdoors. Citing it as the primary example for her difficulty concentrating in such a space.

Yet, you found the opposite to be true.

After years of traversing anosmic ice sheets atop Meetra’s pungent fur coat, you relished in the cold’s ability to naturally numb your olfactory. And it turned out to be another one of the many factors on Hoth that disconnected you from other worlds. So, when finally given the chance to absorb the kaleidoscope of essences Coruscant had to offer, you couldn’t help but feel as if it tied you with a sturdier knot to the wider Galaxy’s intertwinement with the Force.

Maybe that’s why you’d finally found a yawing peace in this little alcove. Guarded by a half-circle of vermillion bushes that stood in staunch defiance against the acrid aromas climbing over and onto the platform’s edge. A nook so ethereally stilled that it nearly cleared your mind of the bustling city below. In an afternoon which snugged exposed arms and a poised neck in toasty rays that capered in equilibrium with the occasional gusts encircling the Temple’s main spire. A quiet locale that released clasped breaths, with each exhale further lightening your mind into the Force’s eternal flow.

“Hi.”

Creasing one eye open, you peeked out in search of the youthful voice, following its eager jump at your senses once drenched in tranquil quietude.

A young, human boy, maybe six or seven years, was leaning into the alcove’s overgrown doorway, small hand clutching a nearby bush as he idled. Jet black hair accented against the warm tints encircling you both, making room for strikingly green orbs to splash another vivid shade into your line of sight while his head curiosity tilted to observe you.

“Hi there,” you responded cordially, shutting your peering eye without a second thought.

“Who are you?” He asked, with a rapidity that implied you’d never dignified him with a response in the first place.

Quite blunt, you noted behind the soothing shadows of resting eyelids. But it was hard not to appreciate that quality. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you were certainly like that at his age.

Stifling an endeared smile, you answered.

“My name is Silvey.”

“Nice to meet you, Master Silvey,” the youngling greeted brightly.

“Just Silvey is fine,” you gently countered. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well—“

“Petro,” he announced quickly, while you sensed his feet meandering toward your form. “Jedi Initiate.”

Returning to centering breaths in the cursory stillness, you could already feel how your words finally registered with the youngling, his meek boot passing by your attuned senses as he nudged a nearby, pattering pebble.

“Are you not a Jedi?” He bemused, pausing a meter away.

You confirmed. “I am.”

“Well, you seem too old to be a Padawan.”

You chuckled lightly at that, wrenching your eyes open to stare at the unfazed youngling with a feigned dare in your gradual stray from the interconnectivity of a previously solidified, meditative state.

“You’re right, Petro. I’m a knight. I just prefer the name. Without the title.”

Forehead furrowing in uncertainty, he squatted down, joining you with his own meditative stance that sacrificed elements of tranquility in its desperate attempt to mirror yours.

But you, instead, followed by resting your hands on either side. Using them as pillars to support your weight that leaned back in an attempt to encourage relaxation in the young boy.

And also, because, it looked like your session was reaching beyond the point of no return.

“Why?”

A good question, you admitted. You didn’t really have an answer for Ahsoka either when you asked her to avoid that particular designation. Though when she did pose a similar inquiry, you somewhat knew in the back of your mind that the personal values that’d emerged from your unusual upbringing were certainly a factor.

The reasoning you presented then should do, you presumed

“I suppose having a rank divides me from those who do not share it. And, as a Jedi, connecting with the Force through all living beings is a part of who I am. It’s harder to do that if I’m placed on a pedestal above them.”

The boy’s nose crinkled, almost as if he’d just registered the District’s sickly fumes that billowed into a drifting fog from below.

“I always thought you were supposed to call Masters that to be respectful. Because they know so much, and they can do those big flips in the air with their lightsabers. And I’m still stuck on Form One.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t wrong, you mused. In fact, his astute analysis was detailed enough to bring you back to threading memories of that rainy afternoon. When Obi-Wan found you at the outer edge of the Senate District, and the burden of piercing stabs dissipated in the hours that followed. Attributable to what was aptly described as invariably sound advice, or, ‘knowing so much.’

You hummed contentedly at the memory.

“They are quite wise, aren’t they?”

But it was clear that such a jettisoned comment did not swing the pendulum of Petro’s mind in any particular direction regarding your previous statement.

Time to take a new approach, you decided.

“Do you believe in the value of all living beings?”

“I guess,” he mumbled indecisively.

Your brows skeptically raised as you probed his response.

“You guess?”

Petro’s voice gave way to an embittered tone. “I don’t like those Separatists we’re fighting. Especially General Grievous. When I get my lightsaber, I’m gonna challenge him to a duel and destroy him for the Republic.”

You took pause at the vexation which plumed into the Force and prodded at your senses. Swelling into cascading clouds throughout the proximate ambiance from a being who, if stood on the tips of their toes, would barely reach four feet.

“It was not long ago that those worlds were once part of the Republic. Would it surprise you to know that even the beings on the side of the Separatists are just as important to the Jedi?”

Scratching his knee, Petro unshackled his gaze to wander upwards, green eyes unfixed as he spoke simply.

“I don’t understand. The Separatists aren’t our friends anymore because the Jedi are fighting them in a war. How can we hurt them and care about them at the same time?”

Your eyes crinkled in serenity.

“Because all life is sacred, young Petro. No matter what side any being is on. No matter what rank they hold.”

You exhaled, gaze standing firm as candor seeped from your pores.

“Though I must admit, I’m also quite confused about our place as peacekeepers in this war. But as long as you preserve that belief in your heart, I’m sure it will take you far in your journey as a Jedi.”

He nodded, that ever so slightly ripening mind absorbing your words. But, like with most maturing Jedi, it didn’t take long for a satisfied grin to peak through the abating wonder that had once lined his features.

“Thanks, Mas—“

Petro cut himself off, inhaling as his teeth caught up with his brain.

“Thanks, Silvey.”

You offered a soft smile.

“Is it easier to mediate here?” He continued, topic shifting just as abruptly as he spoke. “This is my first time visiting the contemplation balcony. I know it’s usually meant for Padawans and Knights, but I’ve been having trouble meditating on my own.”

You considered the youngling’s words, panning your gaze by the swaying orange-red bushes and toward the distant cityscape infested by disparate skylanes.

“Yes, it’s quite nice here.”

You faced the black-haired Initiate.

“And usually very quiet.”

But Petro simply stared at you blankly as that thinly veiled joke vaulted over his head.

“You can meditate here with me if you’d like,” you offered, hoping to bide some silence without discouraging the young fellow.

But the boy was way ahead of you, shutting his eyes with a beaming expression before you even had a chance to finish your sentence.

And, for a moment, it was calm.

The sway of rustling shrubbery and distant whirs of dashing speeders reentered your senses. You found yourself relaxing your shoulders back into the swirling stream, resting your wrists on each knee once more to deepen your connection. Quicker than the weeks before, you could feel its tingling energies crawl up your forearms and widen your perception of the swarming, broad region. The many Jedi circulating through local walkways, training, or even meditating nearby as well as the thousands of beings going about their daily lives only within a few blocks of the Temple.

Their distant mutterings. Their footsteps. The way with which their signatures contributed to Coruscant’s hive. Even young Petro, his squirming facial muscles and bouncing knee tugging at your senses as he attempted his own communion with the Force.

But, of course, it never did last for long.

“How old are you?”

You kept your vision obscured, hoping not to lose your progress in intensifying your concentration as you swiftly responded.

“That’s a secret.”

“Why are your eyes silver?”

“Family trait.”

“What color is your lightsaber? I bet it’s green.”

“Gray.”

“Gray!? That’s so cool! I’ve never heard of a gray Kyber crystal! Did you find it like that or—“

A sharp spasm speared through your mind, stunning your eyes wide open as your posture collapsed forward. Arms flinging out toward the ground to catch yourself.

With every extractable effort, you tried to absorb the debilitating sensation, hoping that if you just let it flow through you, it would pass as quickly as it came. A pain that, for an instant, felt as if it dwarfed all the headaches of the last several weeks.

“Are you ok, Silvey? I’m sorry if I said something wrong—“

“No,” you heaved, catching your breath as the feeling slowly dulled into the background.

Glancing up at the nervous boy, you offered a tired smile, reaching out into the Force’s eternal connectivity to focus on the beings around you.

“You did nothing wrong, Petro. I’m just—“

Another flash of white-hot agony, searing into your mind a sustained hammering that yanked from feebly quivering lips a distressed groan. Your fingernails dug into the squeaking bronzed platform, almost as if to distract your head from its steadily swelling excruciation with the torment of scraping skin against metal.

Yet, it only produced a mere fraction of the pain.

You couldn’t help it. It was the only way to avoid screaming out at the blinding sensation. That, and the anesthetic of grinding your teeth— an operation which made it equally impossible to speak.

“Get….”

Another penetrating stab ripped open your jaw, unshackling a jarring yell as your heartbeat began to quicken against a heaving chest.

“Get what?!” Petro implored, panicked, as he sprung to his feet.

“Is there something I should get?! What do I get?!”

“…help” you croaked.

“Help?” He sounded, tasting the consonants in his mouth.

Then, his alarmed gaze exploded in recognition.

“Oh, help!” The black-haired boy exclaimed, waving his arms while the cogs of his mind zipped into overdrive.

“Get help! I can do that! I can do that.”

Petro froze, dropping into a lower hush as he calmly addressed himself.

“I can do that.”

Bright green eyes snapped back up at your writhing, keeled-over form.

“I’ll be right back, Silvey! Don’t move!”

And with that, the energized youngling hopped into a sprint, barreling through the doorway out of your meditation alcove. Skidding to the left in an attempt to avoid one of the larger vermillion shrubs before disappearing around its lush corner.

But that still left you, reaching up to rigidly clutch your head out of instinct. Fingernails furrowing into disheveled hair and scrapping against the irritated scalp below just as ravenously as the floor.

Because, to you, superficial discomfort stood as the sole avenue to divert your attention from your paling face and shaking hands. As a means to grasp onto escaping tendrils of concentration amidst spiraling torment. You knew that intense focus was your best chance at ejecting these perforating splashes of acid from your mind. That intertwining with the Force’s undying strength would be the only pillar maintaining your teetering consciousness.

So, you plunged into it. Enveloping yourself deeper into the circulating stream’s linking medium with the aim of drawing stability from the beings who resided within and beyond the Temple.

From the Order itself.

Hoping that your brief theater to their energies would prove potent enough to pave you a path out of this torture.

Until it wasn’t.

Black spots began to cloud your vision, bobbing in from your peripheral, swelling to obscure the still swinging bushes and greater District’s landscape. Smothering you into a sea of darkness as if the Maker themself reached up into the sky and darkened the Coruscanti sun with a flick.

It was then when you prepared yourself for what you assumed was coming.

Snapping your eyes shut, you braced for the sudden dizziness that you were sure would take hold. A weightlessness in your stomach destined to shoot up your esophagus. A heated copper platform soon to meet your pained skull with an unceremonious slam.

But none of that ever happened.

Instead, the darkness began to dissipate. Clearing like a temporary fog that was simply passing through.

But this was no ordinary haze, it seemed.

Because in its place, with the continued volatile pangs slowing your eyes in their attempt to refocus, emerged a realm you had no words to fully describe.

And no idea for how you got there.

Your neck was angled downwards when your orbs first began to blink away the daze as the headache of before dissipated into a faraway hum. A position that encouraged you to confoundedly rub those same, silver eyes the instant you realized you were suddenly standing.

And on a ground quite unfamiliar to you, no less.

Beneath your feet ran an overlayed pile of black rocks, smooth yet jagged as they hugged your brown boots with slippery bodies.

You lurched back, disorientation from the drastically altered sight driving your feet as unknown, overcast skies darkened your movements. A freezing ache from the shock attacking your hands while you moved.

Until you quickly realized that each brisk heel rapidly digging away brought your legs deeper into the pile’s mass like a quicksand.

You went rigid, taking swift note of the sharp stones that now slithered around your ankles with a consistency akin to having been dipped in oil.

Quickening heartbeats shot up your gaze as you tried to reorient yourself within these new surroundings. Secretly hoping that perhaps you’d accidentally stumbled into some strange rock exhibit on the contemplation balcony.

But it didn’t take long to surmise that belief’s impossibility. Because to your left and right and as far as the human eye could see, was an endless accumulation of overlapping rock mounds. Rolling like black sand dunes on a lifeless island on which you now stood.

And solidifying your credence that, wherever you were, you definitely weren’t in the Temple anymore.

Still, that wasn’t the only new terrain that infiltrated your senses. By a flickering gleam a few meters ahead, you abruptly spotted a body of water that skirted the rock formations. A strange moat that seemed to stand still atop a bottomless pit of murky shadows with an eery calmness that made it nearly invisible to the naked eye, despite it being located just under your nose.

Then, still raising your head, you spied another structure just beyond the channel. A jagged rock face of stacked boulders that bore a towering plateau reaching twenty meters into the gray sky, measuring at least the same distance from which its foundation stood beyond the trench. You assumed from the few, fluttering wisps of green grass oscillating over its edge, that the sky-scraping crag’s inviolability clearly rivaled the unstable land on which you now stood. One that collectively squirmed from the same occasional gusts of cold, damp breeze, which left the calm waters unaffected.

Decidedly, you needed to find a way over there.

With considerably more caution, you stepped toward the standing water, trusting in your ability to inch close enough in order to gauge its depth without sinking too dangerously below the slick rocks as they continued to wriggle up your legs. Still, each lumbered stride became increasingly difficult while the hill’s pressurized grip tightened around each calf before squeezing at your knees.

But, in spite of that noticeable roadblock, and following several strained, jerking steps, you were finally able to near the bank. Drawing close enough to gaze into the river’s spine-chilling, shadowy underbelly.

Angling downward, you reached out a hand with the hope of splashing some dulled skylight into its depths for a better view. Perhaps it was more shallow than you initially surmised, which would certainly make your journey across its waters much easier.

But as your fingers graced its surface, you were completely unprepared for the jolting fiery shock that surged up your arm, triggering you to yank it away as if you’d just been splashed by pure, volcanic ash.

You hissed from the sting, cradling your arm while staring deeper into the river’s shadowy depths that rippled from the sudden distortion.

Within seconds of the minute cascading wavelet stretching and dissipating into the river’s outer rims, a handful of bubbles trickled toward the surface from inside its murkiest blotches. The first set effervescing skyward only to, one after another, snap and crackle like watery fireworks whose speckled flakes stung your arms stuck in the crossfire at the river’s bank.

Soon, though, the last gurgle fizzed into a silent pause. A deafening calmness purveying the unknown land to which you’d somehow been transported. Providing an opportunity to formulate some new strategy of escape.

An instant immediately stolen.

In a snap, the waters became overwhelmed by a swarming array of roiling bubbles. A rapidly expanding feat that began to overtake the stream. Transforming the once-still liquid into a gurgling mess as if a thousand lightsabers ignited its expanse from below to tip the already blistering lake over into a chain reaction of pure, uncontrollable entropy.

Your lips formed a thin line as you hummed to yourself.

“This is gonna be a problem.”

—

Obi-Wan Kenobi continued his steady jog down the main Spire’s winding staircase. Nut brown robe fluttering by each pearly step while the bearded Jedi considered just how long he’d been waiting for this pertinent moment.

Or, at least, for the assignments finally allocated at the Council meeting this morning. One that he was just now departing.

It had been six, prolonged days brimming with Jedi deployments following the communications system’s final clearance for secure use during sensitive operations. One after another, fellow Masters and Knights, accompanied by the occasional Padawan, circled through the Council’s chambers like an endless revolving door of diverse faces. Accepting each new mission with complete decorum before bowing to the seated assembly to make their exit. Ensuring space for the next General to enter the yellow rotunda of decorative inscriptions and curtain walls before encircling chairs and the distant panorama of Coruscant’s tallest structures.

All to receive critical orders.

That included Anakin and Ahsoka, who, by request of Master Windu, had departed from the Temple just the other day for the Bith System.

All and all, it had been nearly a week of Kenobi’s colleagues rejoining their clone forces to tackle the Separatist threat. After almost a month of virtually twiddling his thumbs while the men in his battalion laid down their lives without him. A scenario that weighed on the Master Jedi.

Thank the Maker that was no longer the case.

The first set of Council members— Obi-Wan Kenobi, Plo Koon, and Shaak Ti— had finally received their first returning assignments since the full communications lockdown. But while those other Masters were expected to lead their respective battalions alone or be the sole Jedi representative on other worlds, for the first time since Anakin was his Padawan, Kenobi would have a companion.

A being, by Master Yoda, he was tasked with integrating into the Order. And, as a high-ranking Council member, one whose true identity Kenobi needed to protect. An individual who had mentioned to him earlier their plans of meditating on the contemplation balcony before his morning meeting. And because of that, a Jedi he knew exactly where to find to inform them about their mutual deployment scheduled for tomorrow morning.

You.

The auburn-haired man paused mid-step, brown boot hovering over the next, grayed stair for an instant before gently touching down as his senses attuned to their surroundings. His ears perked while a subtle distortion washed by stilled feet, like the elusive splash of a puddle that just happened to knick the edge of his shoe.

With a hand on the thick, wooden guardrail, The General’s curious head smoothly tilted over the staircase, as if to spy the source of the atmosphere’s twitch that he found so strangely difficult to describe by simply peering at the level below.

His brows twisted in slight confusion. Mostly because, after conducting a quick analysis of his environment, the Master Jedi found the subtle sensation’s presence to be quite foreign to him. It wasn’t anything he believed to be particularly concerning. Though he couldn’t admit to having encountered it before. No matter his countless meditation sessions or travels to other worlds.

Perhaps that too was why, despite its innocuous nature, the sudden shift in the encompassing hum of the Force still gave him pause.

Resting his eyelids, Obi-Wan focused his mind on the strange discrepancy, reaching out with the tendrils of his senses to ascertain its truth.

It was as if, within the Force’s steadily taught string, a subtle dip pried down one insignificant section of its intrinsic flow. As if in its everlasting stream that moved throughout every being and world, a fly became caught, with wings too soaked to free itself.

Overall, it was a feeling that wasn’t quite… right. Something that shouldn’t necessarily be there, he gleaned.

An otherwise benign inconsistency Kenobi was confident you wouldn’t mind him investigating. Even if it meant a delay in hearing the details of your upcoming, joint mission.

The blue-eyed Jedi resumed his trek down the spiraling staircase, spry footsteps leading his loosened form. This time with his aim shifted toward the curious ridge that etched into the Force and canopied his senses.

With ample time to reach the variability and a wandering mind, Obi-Wan took the empty moment to consider the Grand Master’s decisions regarding his delayed assignment.

Of course, The General understood the logic behind Master Yoda’s insistence that non-Council members be deployed first while those left behind delegated such commissions. If the Republic expected to recoup its battlefield losses, it was wisest to finalize those strategies with the senior decision-makers still in one place. All while those uninvolved in the planning process took those first, few important strides toward implementing the Grand Army’s ever-evolving designs.

Still, the wait became arduous. The bearded Jedi was usually more patient when it came to such matters as these. And, to be sure, he wasn’t particularly enthused about the encroaching sleepless nights or measureless tasks that were destined to cut into his meditation time.

But now that most of the overarching battalion strategies tailored for the Jedi’s return had been finalized, General Kenobi could not wait any longer to dig his heels back into every effort the Republic put forward to preserve peace in a Galaxy threatened by shadowy forces. Agents of the Dark Side like Count Dooku who, week-by-week, further convinced Master Yoda of his Sith identity.

One of two beings Obi-Wan could never risk permitting either of which to entertain the idea of your existence.

“Master Kenobi!”

Traversing the last few stairs onto the Spire’s median platform, Obi-Wan promptly raised his head toward the adolescent voice. Taking note of its high-strung manner as a dash of jet-black locks jounced into the lower creases of his vision, followed by a flash of green orbs ablaze with panic.

He tilted his head inquisitively.

“Yes, youngling? Is there something wrong?”

But the winded, wide-eyed boy couldn’t answer, mouth agape like a Bluefish thrust from the ocean. Instead, he flung out one distressed arm, grasping Kenobi’s own to tug it frantically toward the platforms behind while breathless words tumbled from trembling teeth.

“We… we need help! Silvey needs someone… someone to help them!”

A raw chill surged up Obi-Wan’s spine, spreading across his cheeks like icy roots that temporarily sucked the color from his lips. Providing enough of a momentary shock at the boy’s words to nudge Kenobi’s heels forward as the youngling dragged him along.

The Guardian, in need of help…

Considering how stubbornly independent you’d always been, this notion certainly worried the Jed Master. It would’ve taken a great deal for you to request any sort of assistance. And from a youngling, no less…

Something must’ve been seriously wrong.

And, as the Jedi whose only indefinite assignment to himself was to ensure your protection, the idea of you being seriously injured or worse fleetingly triggered Obi-Wan’s anxieties about the future in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Not since his experiences as Qui-Gon’s Padawan, at least.

“Slow down. Tell me what happened to Silvey. Are they alright?”

Both Kenobi and the youngling fell in step, the former walking briskly with the semi-jogging boy across the rotunda’s cobalt blue carpet while he continued to tug at the Jedi Master’s sleeve.

“I don’t know!” He huffed, slightly sniffling as he gazed up at the elder Jedi with teary eyes. “We were just talking and they fell and they looked like they were in a lot of pain! They told me to get help, so I did.”

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his mind from the initial surprise.

He had an idea of what could have caused this, yet it didn’t make any sense. The bearded man thought that these stress-induced headaches had resolved. At least, that’s what you had told him. He’d become convinced that your efforts to focus that bright mind on differing matters had finally compelled them to fade into the background.

But, if that was the case, what could have possibly changed all that in the matter of a day? Of an hour, since last he saw you?

“Where are they right now?” Kenobi coolly spoke as agile Jedi and youngling stepped onto the contemplation balcony, the gleaming rays of Coruscant’s blazing, yellow sun beating down on the pensive man’s searching face.

“I told them to wait in the Redweeds Circle where they were meditating.”

Obi-Wan halted, forcing the glassy-eyed yet somewhat more sedated boy to skid to a stop, fingers still tightly clasped to his brown sleeve as he frighteningly gazed up at the bearded man.

“I will go and check on Silvey, youngling. But I have one very important task for you while I do that.”

The boy emphatically nodded, lifting up a pair of knuckles to swipe away a dribble of snot leaking down his lips. Still, he listened, green eyes glistening.

Kenobi exhaled, kneeling down to address the boy at his level. “What is your name?”

“Petro,” the youngling sniffled.

“Young Petro, I want you to run up to the High Council Chambers and find Master Windu. Tell him what you told me and where to find us.”

A slight twinkle flickered in the boy’s eye. “I can do that.”

“I know you can,” Obi-Wan graciously smiled while resting a hand on his knee to stand once more. “Now go. I will see to it that Silvey is alright. Have no fear. You did well.”

The black hair boy nodded.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” Petro vocalized, a modest upturn gracing the corners of his mouth.

With a pivot of his foot, the youngling trotted back toward the inner spire, beginning his lengthy journey to the tower’s highest point where the Council chambers lay. Still, despite his frazzled signature and hurried pace, Petro still found a moment to call back to Master Jedi who’d just resumed his trek toward your being.

“I hope Silvey will be ok!”

And Obi-Wan certainly agreed with him.

Trailing the copper-tinted curvature of the Spire’s outdoor platform, Kenobi quickly sped toward the Redweeds Circle, passing the occasional Jedi and botanical display in his tempered jog to reach you. He paid no mind to the blue lekku that hung smoothly from either side of Master Aayla Secura’s head as he glided by her deep, meditative trance at the terrace’s outer border without a second thought. He brushed off the District streets’ eddying fumes, accompanied by an unbroken chain of droning speeders and stirring winds that echoed down the path toward the secluded divisions of the balcony.

But the instant his bounding steps brought him within reach of those familiar fiery shrubs, Obi-Wan suddenly found, with his legs uneasily immobilized just before the alcove’s parted entrance, that a familiar distortion had weaved its way back into his senses. And in a fashion that couldn’t simply be ignored.

Because it was the same bend in the Force that he’d sensed on the main Spire’s stairway just moments ago.

A discrepancy, Master Kenobi realized, as he was once again driven to spin through the verdant corner and onto the meditative alcove, was coming from you.

Drinking in your slumped-over spine and cradled head in a blink, Obi-Wan’s unexpectedly spurring heartbeat bolted him toward your figure, stirred to quicken his pace as another pained groan escaped your lips.

“Silvey,” Obi-Wan called out, concern tugging at his sternum while he slowed to kneel beside you.

Eyeing your obscured countenance, Obi-Wan tried to slightly lean in, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face to help gauge the severity of your condition.

But that wouldn’t change the fact that Kenobi had never seen such a strong, physical reaction like this from you before. Especially with regard to the migraines of the last week.

“What is happening? Is it the headaches? Have they come back?”

“Obi-Wan?” You croaked, flicking your head out of cupped palms in startled search of him.

But what Obi-Wan saw nearly made him stumble out of your line of vision altogether.

In place of your brilliant, silver eyes had emerged a thin, gray film, wrapped around the delicate orbs like a taught bedsheet. Seemingly acting as a buffer in your vision during your aimless search for Obi-Wan, despite him being knelt directly in front of your wandering gaze.

“Where are you?” You intensely inquired, vision oscillating from side to side.

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. “I’m right next to you.”

Puzzlement jerked at your brows. “I- uh. I don’t see you.”

“You’re sitting on the contemplation balcony with me.”

Lifting a hand, he reached out for you, placing his palm on your sun-kissed shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze as a freezing tinge enveloped his fingertips.

“Do you feel my hand?”

“No, I can only feel this damned headache!” You groaned. “And I’m gonna have to disagree with you, Obi-Wan. Wherever I am, it’s definitely not the balcony, and it’s pretty hard to move.” The Master Jedi spied as your hand shot back up to massage your temple. “It doesn’t help that this ache is weighing me down.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth devolved into a thin line, worry etched across his features as he absorbed your troubling words.

“I’m not sure I quite understand. Are you saying you’re seeing some other… place?”

“If you can call it that, yeah.”

The bearded Jedi’s blue eyes narrowed, unsettlement bubbling like a steeping tea at the uncertainty of your condition.

“Tell me what you see.”

“I’m…”

Kenobi dropped his hand while your head swiveled, scanning the encircling vermillion bushes and bronzed terrace below as if you could truly see those landmarks through swathed orbs.

“I’m on some sort of… island. But it’s made up of these strange rocks. They’re oily, covered in soot, and… seem to act like quicksand around my feet. Uh, there’s a lake? It’s surrounding the island. But, Obi-Wan?”

Your neck swiveled like a droid urgently conducting a scan as you again searched for him, uncertainty contorting your features.

“I’m here, Silvey,” Kenobi reassured, scooting his knees against the smoothed floor to resettle directly in front of you as your cloudy eyes stilled straight ahead.

“What is it?” He implored, attentive stare unmoving. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“The water… it’s… black. It’s so black it’s like a shadow in my hand.”

The Jedi Master did not like the sound of that at all.

Kenobi steadily exhaled, a swirling array of thoughts fighting for dominance while he attempted to ascertain what could cause such a condition. And, more importantly, what he could do to stave off its symptoms to ensure your stability, even if temporary.

“What worries me is…,” his eyes refocused on your shifting gaze as words trickled past his ears. “…Is that’s what I called my headaches. The name Master Windu told me to assign to it. Black Water. And now that’s what I see. But when I touched it, it started to boil.”

Your brows contorted in realization, jaw tightening while you spoke.

“I think it’s gonna flood the island…”

Instantly, Kenobi felt his forehead will toward yours. Slowing just inches before your nose as if proximity would make his voice clearer to you. As if it would bring your mind back from being trapped inside this bizarre realm.

“Can you get out?” He implored, a serious quickness charging his tone. “Is there somewhere you can go?”

“There’s another tall island on the opposite side, but I can’t reach—“

An audible gasp ladened with visceral pain tumbled from your tongue, followed by a stiff exhale from flaring nostrils. It was enough to draw Obi-Wan to launch his hands out to clutch your upper arms, holding them so staunchly like it was the only thing keeping you talking. Like it was the only way to keep your body from disappearing too.

He was supposed to be protecting The Guardian, and, by the unnerving sight before him, it looked like he was already failing at that task. A notion that only drove him to accelerate his spoken tempo in an attempt to seek the answers he needed to help you.

“What was that?” He worried, eyes softening at pain transparently emanating from your features. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s happening.”

“The waves,” you swallowed with stitched brows, rubbing the back of your hand while you spoke. “It splashed my hand. They’re moving closer. And every time I step back to get away, I sink deeper into the island. I don’t think I can walk any further. And I can’t use the Force here to pull myself out.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze sunk, allowing his arms to fall to his side as he settled into folded legs in an effort to parse out this rapidly developing situation.

Master Windu still hadn’t arrived, and there was no way Kenobi was leaving you by yourself to deal with this unpredictable vision only to fetch a distant Healer. If he could call it a vision. The General had certainly never heard of a Jedi becoming fully imprisoned within their own mind by one.

Though, despite being trapped by his own expeditious attempts to decipher the imminent disturbance, the uneasy man still noticed out of the crest of his vision a splash of reddened skin with peeling flakes as your soothing fingers uncovered the striking development.

And it was a sight perplexing enough to compel Kenobi to grab your wrist, just when you began to pull it away.

“Silvey…” he spoke lowly. “You hand.”

“What?”

“It’s red.”

“What? You can see the burn?” You asked, confusion dripping from your cheeks. “How? You’re not in my mind.”

“It’s here. It’s on your hand here. On the balcony.”

“Oh,” you vocalized, scrunching your nose as you continued.

“That’s really not good.”

Kenobi’s already galvanized chest hammered deeper, threatening to fracture a rib.

If, much like The Muntuur, this strange affliction within your mind had a devastating effect in the real world, it was quite possible that were this dubious river to flood your mind’s island before you had the chance to escape, your body would likely go down with it.

And, given your tightening jaw and sucking, painful breaths in your continued purveyance of invisible surroundings, Obi-Wan at least knew this:

That he had to do something.

It was his duty, after all. Even if that meant putting his mind, or life, on the line for The Guardian.

Not just for you. Or Anakin. Or the Order.

But for the Galaxy itself.

For Qui-Gon.

Positioning his hands on each knee, Kenobi rested his posture into a taught line, hoping to focus his racing thoughts on reaching out to the swirling energies that glided throughout him. Paying careful attention to narrowly avoid that dip in the stream that characterized your being and infected the flow.

“Hold on,” he murmured, releasing his mind into the Force. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Obi-Wan, no,” you rejected, vehemently shaking your head. “We still don’t know what this is. This is my mind we’re talking about. You know, the one Master Yoda had trouble analyzing? The one Master Windu hasn’t broken through? It’s too dangerous for you to even try exploring it in this state.”

“You forget,” he jested, pressing against the severely weakened barriers to your signature while his eyelids swung shut. “Facing danger in service of others is a Jedi specialty.”

But despite the confidence leaking from the bearded Jedi’s whimsical words, it was still not enough to prepare him for the astonishing sight that beclouded his bright blue orbs as Master Kenobi shouldered through the thin, protective layer that gave way to your inner mind.

—

You knew the uphill battle of hiking away from steadily rising waters lapping at a disappearing shore would inevitably sink you far enough into the mound’s squirming pebbles to trap you indefinitely. Thwarting away any hope of putting another inch between you and the frothing black liquid whose gurgling waves rolled over each other as thickly as a bubbling oil field.

You just didn’t realize that waist-deep would be the cutoff.

The deadly river roiled just a few meters away, unleashing its intensifying rage with sporadic splashes scattering far enough to swipe searing lines across the sides of your neck and forearms.

Yet, even then, the distance still appeared skewed, mostly by steaming rocks transferring the stream’s burning heat against the protective layer your robe provided. Its slender fabric barely cut their progressing fever while they buzzed with an intensity akin to the campfire rocks you remember scavenging during those late-night cave explorations on Hoth. And, with memories of prematurely dispersing those pebbles with the help of a sleeve, it didn’t take long for you to realize, eyes fixed on the unfortunate sight, that your ash cloak’s thickness wouldn’t be enough to stave off the shards’ uniformly climbing heat for long.

“It appears you could use a hand!”

Your gaze flung upwards, eyes narrowing pryingly at the rough skirt of the grassy precipice from which a carrying voice resounded down the crag and bounced across the humming buzz of scalding waters, all the way to you. Vision sharpening through rising smoke plumes, a hazy emergence snagged your focus while a brown robe flapping around similarly tinted boots crystallized in the fog.

You crossed your arms, elbows gracing the wriggling, sizzling pebbles as an incredulous smirk charmed your expression.

“Last time I checked, that was my line.”

Your brows furrowed in bewilderment.

“Wait—“ you exclaimed, having fully registered Kenobi’s presence within the inner facets of your troubled mind while your arms released to gesticulate your point.

“—How are you here?! Master Windu and I have been working for weeks to even access my thoughts!”

“Whatever this is, it has severely weakened your barriers!” He called out, a swelling wind swishing auburn curls and a shadow of unease clouding his countenance.

Soon, Obi-Wan’s lost stare raised to absorb your mutual surroundings in his scan of the endless, inky mounds whose rolling bodies far surpassed your being into the outstanding, elusive expanse. And, inside those few, short seconds, it became clear that whatever he saw germinated an element of disfavor that stitched like a spasm deep into his blue orbs.

“I sense a great darkness there!”

“Fantastic,” you huffed lowly, sarcasm nurturing its steady drip while you returned toward the preoccupied Jedi with a pointed stare and wry chuckle.

“Still think it’s just stress, Master Kenobi?” You poked, raising a brow.

And you could tell from the Jedi’s mixed expression that he realized he definitely deserved that.

A searing slap at your cheek drew out an uncontrollable hiss, snapping your gaze back toward the sizzling rapids. During the progression of your exchange, the raging waters had crept close enough to now densely crackle less than a meter away from your confined frame.

“Uh, any ideas?” You vocalized, nervously eyeing the encroaching, greasy waters.

“You’re going to be alright!” Obi-Wan shouted, arms extending over the cliff side with fingers pointed toward your figure below about thirty meters away. “I believe I can access the Force here! Don’t move!”

“Thanks for the advice!” You deadpanned, feeling a slight pressure begin to tighten under your armpits, and bow your elbows. “I was originally planning to practice Form Four while stuck in these quicksand rocks, but now I know not to do that.”

With the rise of his palms, your torso harshly tugged upwards, bringing the borderline of writhing pebbles roughly below your rear while the belligerent waters licked at the unstable land mere feet from your anchored form.

“You know what I meant!” He objected tensely, forearms straining in his continual heave skywards.

Another squeezed yank, and most of your heated legs were finally freed. Loose, burning shales tumbled back into the cavity hatched by limbs kicking out to freedom during your hasty retreat to elbow onto flatter land.

And just in the nick of time too.

Boiling liquid instantly engulfed the mound that once had you ensnared. Only seconds after you’d finally, gratingly freed a boot momentary wedged among interlocked shales.

Still, despite your newfound freedom, you couldn’t help but refocus your mind back on the black river’s looming essence as you were promptly reminded by the mounting deluge that your temporary haven would be just that.

Temporary.

“Obi-Wan…” you uneasily droned, sights locked on the molasses-like liquid traveling intelligently across the last few inches that divided its scorching heat from your fidgeting, sweaty feet.

“I don’t understand!” He nervously exclaimed, drawing your stare while he viciously grappled with thin air before his arms fell with a grunt. “I can’t move the rocks! Can you see anything that could be used to block the overflow?! Or to help you move away?!”

“No!” you shouted, fruitlessly surveying the endless mounds of black shards to your rear before facing the quite visually unsettled Jedi. “And if I move back any more I’ll get stuck again!”

Tensely biting your lip, you stretched your neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of any way across the crashing waterway— a loose path of stepping stones perhaps— when your vision once again spied the rocky cliff towering fiercely in support of Obi-Wan’s faraway figure. And while you scrutinized the plateau’s craggy outer foundation that fabricated a makeshift shoreline, you did happen to spot amidst its rugged construction two round, graphite boulders of particular interest balancing against each other toward the divide.

They stood at about half your size and appeared sturdy to move, you assessed. Making them maybe, just maybe, durable enough to get you off this death trap of an island.

So, extending your mind through elongated fingers, you attempted to clasp onto one of the shapes.

That was before learning the hard way that on that faraway shore too, you could still not manipulate the Force.

“What is it?!” Obi-Wan called out, having seemingly noticed your distant focus and budding frustration.

“Those boulders below you!” You replied, motioning for his probing peer to traverse back over the river’s murky depths. “Can you move them?!”

“I can certainly try!” He exclaimed.

An echoing grunt reverberated down the cliffside while Kenobi struggled to negotiate the boulders’ dense builds. Even from your remote spot through clouds of smoky fog and under overcast, gray skies, you could almost glimpse the blossoming of thick veins that tirelessly pulsed throughout both of the Jedi’s tautened arms.

But it wasn’t before the obvious strain brought Obi-Wan’s two, forcibly planted feet teetering just at the cliff’s edge that you felt compelled to somehow strategize a new plan. Because no matter how dangerously close those bubbling waves came, you were far more driven by the heightened danger Kenobi inched toward with each onerous yank at the structures below, effectively stiffening every muscle in your body.

Until the tiniest twitch in the right boulder stifled your breath.

Within the span of a blink of an eye, Kenobi had, by all accounts, unearthed the brawn demanded to barely lift the grayed boulder, prying it from the delicately balanced pile that slumped noisily from its removal.

He hovered it through the splintering waters, securing the object against crashing waves that threatened its journey. Holding it steady enough to shakily maneuver its shape before finally allowing it to clatter inches before your feet.

“I’d like to know why you can access the Force in my mind when I can’t!” You complained, grappling onto the giant stone with grayed sleeves clutched between your fingers as you rose atop its structure, two rapid heartbeats before the dark waters encircled the drifting, black rocks below.

“Never mind that now!” He remarked. “I’m going to build you a bridge!”

“You can’t!” You called out, boulder quivering up your legs from the rushing stream. “It took nearly all your energy to move just one of them!”

His eyes dilated with apprehension at the truth behind your words. Until that was all washed away by an element of reluctant resolve.

“When you have another suggestion I’d be happy to take it under advisement! But, for now, this is the plan!”

With rounded lips, you sighed, whispering lowly to yourself as you considered this rapidly developing predicament that you somehow now roped Obi-Wan into.

“This is not gonna end well…”

So, for those next several, tense minutes, once you acquiesced to Kenobi’s plan, it became a desperate race between you and the troubled waters persistently frothing its deadly torrent always just below. Obi-Wan constructed you a path to deliverance brick by brick, with a cacophony of strained grunts and shouts to watch the slippery corners that, following one misstep, were sure to lead to a scalding demise. It certainly didn’t help that the river had once again proved its near sentience, with the blubbering, hot liquid countering your bid for freedom by striving to surge and crack against the ascending bridge, passion like an Alessian Terror Moth to a Glowlamp.

Though, despite the restless undercurrents of anxiety breaking against your own subconscious from the absolute instantly that was this situation, a small part of you eased at the ongoing effectiveness of this thrown-together strategy Kenobi had arranged. With every available effort, the auburn-haired Jedi briskly lugged each shiftable boulder ahead of the flooding river and rising steam. And, you had to admit, his perseverance had certainly helped alleviate any general unease surrounding the plan’s ill-advised nature, calming nerves that you didn’t even realize had heightened before the adrenaline began to shake out of your system.

That was, until his complete exhaustion started to manifest through heavy perspires, drenching his face and tunic and stiffening his increasingly stuttering movements. Especially once you passed the waterway’s halfway point, those sluggish maneuverings of trembling boulders barely lifting off the ground soon became a new cause for concern.

“You need to take a break,” you advised with a comforting gaze and more standard projection, now able to make out the bearded Jedi’s entirely drained complexion from just twelve meters away. “The water will still be safely low enough for a few minutes at least.”

All Master Kenobi could do was nod while labored breaths struggled in and out of his lungs, hands reaching for rigid knees as he subsumed the brief instant greedily, fatigue dripping down every inch of his hunched body.

It was really difficult to see him like this, you absorbed, eyes glued to the troubling sight. Obi-Wan was by far one of the most intelligent and capable Jedi you’d met during your time at the Temple. So much so, that had Qui-Gon seen this day, you knew he would’ve been immeasurably proud.

Then, to watch him crumble within the confines of your strangely infected mind? Putting every piece of himself as he was known to do in service of others? Toward some crisis you could’ve escaped on your own had you held out for just a little bit longer?

You felt awfully guilty.

You sighed, attention so strongly levied on the recovering man just above and beyond that you almost missed the nearly imperceptible, detached rattlings that ostensibly reflected from the torrent below.

Ears perked, you glanced around the set of stacked boulders that precariously buttressed your balancing, skyward frame. Allowing your severely debilitated senses to lead you into a turn as you tracked the clatter toward the flooded land from which you just barely escaped. Still, despite being initially met with the broad flood of shadows, you encouraged your vision to center.

It was a decision that empowered you to quickly spy a thread of black specks emerge from the dark waters, swelling quickly in their rapid, squirming approach up the bridge with movements so coordinated you assumed they had to have been connected by some invisible thread.

“What in the Wampa…” you whispered to yourself while trying to discern this strange sight with squinting eyes.

Neck craning to take a closer look, you soon recognized the flecks’ familiar snaggy shape and greasy complexion as they melted into a pebbled form.

With nowhere else to go, and a healthy bought of curiosity driving your gaze, you observed as the black rocks slithered up the last few boulders, wondering if some strange wind trap created by the manmade bridge had somehow twisted these shards up and out of their sodden cradle.

But you were swiftly proven wrong when, madly wrapping around your leg like an unshakable boa constrictor, the reactive pebbles seized you into a downward tumble, preventing you a chance to even react. Still, your eyes grew wide at the twist while a startled Kenobi called out after your disappearing figure.

Your back slammed roughly against the bridge with each jolt, forcing you to twist and wrestle for an imperfection to grip. All the while blistering rocks jabbed into your leg with a wildness that made you gasp.

With fingernails continuing their descending scratches against a flux of smooth surfaces, you finally felt your arm give as it locked onto an indent in one of the jutting boulders. Eliciting another groan while the gravely serpent continued to tug at your commandeered limb just before the simmering heat that now suddenly reigned a centimeter below.

With a heartbeat exploding so hotly it felt as if the organ itself would stop altogether, you floundered to face the earthy creature. Spine twisting and arms tightly hugging the boulder beneath while you attempted to somehow come face-to-face with its pants-shredding clutch, hopefully without plummeting off either edge of the narrowed bridge.

Soon, however, by the swing of your other limb flipping your body, you were finally able to secure a newfound position of dominance. With the resulting urgency that rushed through your veins playing a pivotal role in raising your uncaged leg to rally a string of unfettered stomps across the organism’s linked skeleton.

One by one, you snapped off each wedge of the unwelcome parasite, feeling each incisive, prodding sting until you watched the last pebble fall with a hiss and whine back into the deluge. One that, any second, threatened to nip at your ankles.

“Nevermind!” You yelled, leaping to your feet in a desperate race back up those few, squeaky boulders you’d collapsed down.

“No time!” You continued, finally reaching the bridge’s incomplete brink and nearly stumbling over it altogether before halting just in time to spot an aura of relief wash over Obi-Wan’s features the instant you emerged.

“The rocks are alive and they’re trying to kill me!”

Kenobi’s head retracted in befuddlement from registering your words.

“What?”

Another clamor of pattering clicks rang out from the rear, soon overwhelmed by a racket of grating cracks and splashing plunges that whipped your head so quick it took a full second for your hair to catch up.

Alert eyes stilling on the alarming sight, you quickly registered that, in place of the bridge segment once fastened to the tumultuous waters below, now stood a fractured crater. In fact, the structure’s first disappeared steps into ascendancy had overflowed with squirming oily shards and rushing black liquid. The same conscious elements that began twirling like waterspouts with the intention of shimmying up to the next set of boulders, only to girdle the masses with a tight squeeze that sent another section of the bridge bursting into useless fragments.

Staunchly pointing at the rear development, you addressed the perplexed Jedi once again.

“Now they’re eating the bridge!”

“What?!”

But it didn’t take long for Master Kenobi to understand what you meant, as the last few levels of the hazardously erected configuration began to buckle under readily collapsing supports, drawing you into a falter while you tried to steady yourself atop the highest-reaching boulder.

Clearly, this situation was becoming far more dangerous than you could have ever predicted. And with that came a very real realization—

That the longer Obi-Wan remained here in his futile attempts to save you, the more jeopardy he’d be entrenching himself in.

You’d had your fair share of tight circumstances before. And, no matter how dire this one seemed, you knew by your track record that you could probably figure some way out. But, each time you faced down another bloodthirsty Wampa with a broken arm and fractured clavicle, or defended against greedy pirates who’d temporarily stolen your lightsaber, or even traversed icy plains after becoming lost in the dead of night, you still felt comfortable taking such risks.

Because you had faced them alone.

There was no one else you really had to look out for that prevented you from subjecting yourself to the perils necessary to survive.

Until now.

With this danger unlike any other.

One that you could barely predict. And one that had tangible consequences transferable to the physical realm.

One that siphoned the security you usually experienced in attempting such perilous schemes into unruly disquietude. At least since an unpredictable element by the name Obi-Wan Kenobi illuminated the fact that you’d now be endangering a life other than your own.

The land he stood upon was much safer than the vanishing oily mounds below. You understood that. But such a belief would only hold true for so long. It was just a matter of time before the troubled waters threatened to swell and engulf the bearded Jedi whose features contorted in uncertainty as he stared down at you.

Even if he waited until the absolute last second to escape— at the instant when your dreadful doom was sealed— you didn’t believe that the Master Jedi could pry himself from your mind fast enough. At least, not before it was wholly consumed by slippery shadows.

And, most importantly, if you knew one thing, you knew this, and with the confidence of a simple math equation no less:

That if Kenobi got hurt because of you, you would never forgive yourself.

In the short time he’d known you, he had already done so much. Acted as an incendiary to healing discoveries about yourself that you had no previous notion of exploring. Stayed at your side during those inner battles of painful migraines despite your initial attempts to push him away for his own protection. Truly, you couldn’t allow a man as kind and affecting as that to put his life on the line for you. Not when the Galaxy needed Jedi like him.

Not when his death would feel like losing a piece of Qui-Gon all over again.

Besides, being The Guardian of The Chosen One didn’t just mean protecting Anakin, but anyone who you believed to be a part of his destiny.

And you were quite confident that his former Master certainly qualified.

With the prospect of an untimely and horribly painful end slapping you in the face, your sheet-white face finally gravitated toward the unsettled blue-eyed man above you. For the first time since you were both thrown into this bizarre mess, the two of you exchanged a lingering gaze, silently arguing about the best next step as you gradually came to terms with the prospect that your insatiable luck may have finally run its course.

But while your features drowned in realism and pursed lips, Obi-Wan’s seemed to harden with sharpened brows and a newly robust determination, one that threatened to cut down your soberness with a mighty slash.

Because, if you remembered correctly, Obi-Wan Kenobi never believed in any such thing as luck.

“You need to jump—“

“—You need to go.”

His jaw tightened.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“The water is rising too quickly, Obi-Wan. You took so many rocks from the cliff side that it will probably collapse once it nears my position—“

Another quake in the tottering bridge jumbled your feet onto a slippery edge, nearly toppling you off the bridge altogether before a strong yank tugged you back by the hood of your robe.

Quickly, you replanted your boots, releasing a shuddery exhale as you spotted Obi-Wan’s outstretched fist lunged toward your figure, an agitated sigh falling past his evenly firm lips.

“There is no choice, Silvey!” He sternly repeated, heavily lowering his outstretched arm. “You must jump!”

“It’s a death sentence either way!” You yelled before dropping into a pragmatic tone.

“It’s too far for me without my abilities. I’ll fall.”

“Then we’ll work together,” he suggested, closing his eyes and releasing his spine as he spoke.

“Focus on my connection to the Force—“

With literally not a second to lose, you did as the wise Jedi advised, pressingly reflecting his posture amid roaring waves and collapsing boulders that you did your best to drown out with eyelids that fluttered closed.

“—And repel the shadows.”

But it was hard to sense his meaning.

The instant you tried to reach out to Kenobi’s figure with every branching fiber of your being, all that you were met with was a brick wall. As if the rising steam had congealed into some sort of smoky barrier that reigned all around you and deepened the blur of your senses. Suffocating your connection to these strange surroundings in a way you didn’t think was possible. And in a way that you couldn’t control.

“It will feel like a bright flicker in the darkness.”

Darkness? Could that be what this was? A pure, unadulterated aura of the Dark Side? And encompassing a portion of your grievously debilitated mind, no less.

You’d never had the occasion to sense the Dark Side of the Force, having only known one light side Jedi during your isolation on Hoth. You didn’t even know what it felt like. Master Kenobi had mentioned he could sense it here. Perhaps that was why your connection to the Force felt indefinitely cut off.

And, if that was the case, then maybe you were going about this all wrong.

Rather than force the shadows away in their immovable form, rather than controlling forces quite unknown to you, perhaps you could glide through them.

And the instant you endeavored through this tactic, you soon realized that Kenobi was right.

As you reached out again, this time wading past the confusing blockades that bloated into mist as you tapped them away like drifting bubbles in search of anything familiar, you finally tasted it.

A gentle orb of glaring light that, despite its size, radiated with the strength of a thousand suns.

An energy so sweet, tangible, and linking within these ubiquitous, observational shadows, that you felt lured with shaky fingers to touch it.

“Find your connection, Silvey. Whatever you must do, find your way back to the light.”

An aura so intoxicating, that you took a bite.

An unparalleled sensation of light surged through your veins. Radiating up your arms and throughout your body with an intensity that wrenched your eyes open with a sharp inhale as you felt the tingling buzz of the Force reactivate through standing hairs across your frame.

After a moment to settle into this stream’s bright yet anomalously quivering touch, with prickling cheeks gradually subsiding, you finally felt able to breathe into the remarkable feeling. First encouraging your nerves to cool while electrified eyes refocused on the auburn-haired man above, who appeared similarly disoriented and breathless.

You couldn’t blame him, though. With a quick glance at the deluge below and the rapidly ascending shards bouncing behind, you both registered that you had mere seconds to make a decision. Still, despite perceiving a reconnection to at least some piece of the Force through Obi-Wan’s dependable guidance— no matter how strong that initial connection felt— you couldn’t help but sense it to be much weaker than you’d ever experienced in the real world.

If you were being completely honest, as you readied yourself with heels digging into the slate boulder, you didn’t think this was going to work.

But waiting any longer meant giving more time for the troubled waters to reach Obi-Wan.

And that was unacceptable.

You needed to move.

With a hand boldly cast down, he yelled for a final time, imperious, blue stare burrowing into yours.

“Jump!”

And, so, you did.

With this newfound connection to the Force, the faith it partially imbued, and the man you needed to protect in dire need of saving—

You jumped.

Your feet soared above the lapping waves of piping liquid as the bridge’s final pillar shattered, toppling the structure’s remains into gurgling oblivion. You felt the blistering swipes of the ensuing, loose droplets at your ankles, catapulted by the boulders’ untimely descent while you neared the overhanging, verdant ridge from which Kenobi’s hand remained firmly extended with eyes locked tensely on your gliding frame.

However, what you had judiciously feared, and what the Master Jedi hadn’t seemingly predicted, was that, despite the helpful boost in mending a fraction of your Light Side connection, the degree to which you became entwined with the distant Force appeared to fall short of your immediate needs.

With ash-like steam thrusting against your face, you began to lose propulsion too soon, leading to the drastic turn that sent you hurdling toward a lower portion of the cliff face with no discernible crevices to grab ahold of.

Subconsciously, your legs began to kick, arms outstretched to brace yourself as if that would cushion the inevitable crash that was sure to bounce you back into the boiling, black river rumbling just below.

But that darkness never came.

In an instant, Obi-Wan had vaulted over the precipice, using one hand to grab the crag’s lip while he swung in between your collision course. Tirelessly flexing arm outstretched, he slid a loose, sweaty palm into yours, clutching it tightly before ripping you out of your momentum and into a brief twirl, leaving you both to dangerously dangle feet above the boiling stream that steamed your swaying boots.

“Maker…Are you insane?!” You screamed, a crimson outrage blooming on your face at the sheer recklessness with which he acted. “Why did you do that?!”

“I seem to have learned…a thing or two…from our mutual friend,” he grunted, attention focused on your upward escape while his knuckles whitened on either end.

You didn’t want to believe it, but you were confident in its truth.

If you stayed like this, you both were going to fall.

“Obi-Wan,” you gulped, a chill running up your spine against the smoldering background as you tried to calm your voice.

“You need to let me go.”

His bewildered gaze snapped toward yours.

“Absolutely not!”

“You’re just going to get yourself killed…” you explained, ogling him sensitively.

His eyes softened.

“Then save us both,” he hushed. “The Galaxy needs you just as much as Anakin.”

Kenobi’s eyes warily flickered past your figure as his voice intensified.

“Now, whatever you may have done earlier, I suggest you try it again before we both become another ingredient in this ghastly stew!”

You followed his stare, catching sight of the same encroaching waves that churned inches from your toes, thickly crashing and gurgling up black spouts over the array of sporadic boulders.

Wait.

“I have an idea!” You exclaimed, digits extending toward the smoky, gray body of a nearby boulder. “Cover any exposed skin!”

Tapping into that tiny spark of light blooming in your chest, and in cahoots with any and all available facets of energy remaining in your wearied body, you heaved the giant rock, clenching every possible muscle in an effort to nudge it upwards.

With a guttural cry you had no idea was your own bouncing off the cliff side and across the rumbling river, the rounded mass finally broke free, following a sedated, wobbly climb up the crag toward both of your hanging bodies.

Only a third of the way up, you became numb, extremities tingling while you focused your entire consciousness on ensuring this last-ditch plan’s success. So much so, that as your eyelids drooped in and out of blurred vision, you didn’t even realize that your clasped palm had begun to slip.

Until Kenobi let out a pained gasp, taking on the brunt of the collective weight by clamping onto the remaining loose fingers so tightly that you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t broken one or two.

But that extra two or three seconds was all you needed. Within that frame, you’d raised the dense boulder to hover just beside Obi-Wan’s swaying form, providing a stepping stone of sorts to the ledge just above.

“Climb,” you arduously breathed, skin itching as your muscles threatened to give out.

And you certainly didn’t need to tell him twice.

Using his robe to protect himself from the rock’s blistering heat, Master Kenobi swung one leg and then the other onto its rounded body, heaving himself up with every procurable limb that wasn’t attached to you. All the while you desperately held the boulder in place as black dots began to dance at the creases of your vision.

Swiftly, he found his bearings, using the newfound surface to lunge onto the grassy knoll that characterized the plateau’s surface before immediately swiveling to drag you up with him.

“Let go of the boulder!” He exclaimed while his other arm reached down in urgent search of your Force-wielding fingers.

But the moment he told you to release it, those digits fell limp, collapsing just as quickly against your side as the giant rock plummeted back down to the dark, troubled waters below.

Yet, crouched over the cliffside, Obi-Wan refused to give up.

Tracing the outline of your slumped limb with the back of his hand, you felt the warm thread eventually reach your frozen palm, grasping it eagerly before the Jedi Master tugged you upwards by both arms.

Slowly, but surely, you felt your body lift while rising steam dissipated into a cold sweat, eventually permitting weak feet to mindlessly carry you over the partition and onto solid, green ground that pushed up against your soles.

You blinked.

“Silvey?”

The familiar sway of red-orange bushes and distant commotion of cityscape bustlings suffused your senses. In time, you spotted Obi-Wan, crouched directly in front of you with a particularly troubled tint lining his features and a warm palm resting gently atop a shoulder that you barely distinguished as your own.

You were back.

But something felt…

Off.

You shot up, legs buckling slightly as if you were trying to walk for the very first time in years. Brushing off Obi-Wan’s touch with the back of your hand in an attempt to continue your driving stumble forward.

“Wait a moment,” Obi-Wan insisted while bolting upwards, propelling opened palms to hover by your sides as you momentarily stilled in between them. “Take it slow—“

“What is going on here?”

Squinting, you spied the familiar figure of Master Windu, brows crossed in stoic reprimand as he whisked toward you both, brown cloak whipping behind him. With a wandering gaze, you narrowly spotted out of the far corner of your eye a familiar set of black locks. Peaking out from an inconspicuous hiding place behind one of the far vermillion shrubs that betrayed their location in its periodic swerves against the breeze.

“Master Windu,” Kenobi called out, waving him over. “We require your assistance.”

But with a body that, for some reason, felt uncannily like your own, it became hard to focus.

Master Windu eyed you critically. “What happened?”

A dizziness overtook the distant migraine of before, black splotches from your mind returning with a vengefully accelerating frequency. It blurred your vision into a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors that soon mutated the eyes, and noses, and lips of the men before you into an unnatural, dripping putty.

Your mouth opened disjointedly, yet no words came out.

“Master Kenobi, what’s going on?”

You reached for your head.

“I’m… unsure. Silvey? Is it still the headache?”

Weightlessness.

“Woah woah.”

Warmth.

“Youngling, fetch us a Healer—“

“Silvey, can you hear me?”

“—And then see if Master Yoda is available.”

“Silvey?”

End Part I: Rescue of the Fates

Taglist

@js-favnanadoongi

@panandinpain0

@randomwriter435

@soleywoley

@burnthecheshirewitch

#obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #obi wan my beloved #obi wan x oc #obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan and anakin #anakin and ahsoka #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x you #sheev palpatine #star wars prequels #angst #fluff #banter #star wars #obiwan kenobi #anakin and obi wan #obi wan #obi wan star wars #obi wan x anakin #star wars ahsoka #ahsoka #qui gon jinn #qui gon/obi wan #jedi reader #jedi oc #gray jedi

[mamuzzy]

I only wanted to answer in reblog but it got so long i decided to make a separate post. But it had me thinking about media consumerism and how it could affect the open-mindedness for different shows soooo...

Here is a guide to...

HOW TO GET SOMEONE TRAPPED IN THE CLONE HELL

... not entirely a guide but more like an observation.

If we want to look at the problem with the fast-paced media consumer viewpoint, I think starting with the Bad Batch it's actually not a bad idea for someone who never watched Star Wars animated media before. It's sad but cartoons, animations can repulse people to watch things because they link them to child stories, something only a child would watch, also most of the people prefer live action instead of animated stuff. Especially if the said movie/series is quite old. cont. under the cut...

There could be a reason why people are not interested in clones

If a friend, family member, boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever only saw the movies and were not interested in TCW before, had not seen it as a child on TV, they will probably have prejudice against the clones. - They weren't the main characters in the movies therefor we have not seen them interacting that much with the main cast. - But even if you don't know star wars, you will probably know the clones for Order 66, white armored assholes who murdered the jedi aka good guys. And when the movies came out, inhibitor chips weren't in the picture. ---> this observations came while watching TCW with my dad who didn't like the clones because for this exact same reason: the clones basicly serve antagonist without question in a world where rules were set: jedi are good, sith are evil. -> I don't care that it is more complex that. It is what was shown. While he enjoyed the clone-centric episodes, he still stood at his point. They killed the jedi. End of story. - People have different interests :'(((((((

THE CLONE WARS 2003

Why do I recommend this first.

You can always say it's made by the same guy who made Samurai Jack. Strategically speaking Clone Wars 2003 would be a good starting point despite not being canon anymore because TCW is adapting some of the stories shown here. It recaps well what happened between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith. Also this is the first media where Asajj Ventress and Grievous were introduced, and where you can actually see Grievous in his prime, an absolutely terrifying foe who actually can mop the floor with the jedi. Lots of jedi were introduced here which later also appeared in TCW. Why is this important: Having familiarity with the characters shown in memorable scenes helps that you will recognise them later in other media. Like... Hey it's the jedi dude who stripped in the middle of a fight! Hey, aren't these the same guys who mutated an entire village out of fun who kidnapped Echo??? And so on. TIME: 25 x 5 minutes episodes full of action so it keeps up the interest, and... FORDO. 5 minutes of full clone badassery. While TCW emphasises on the theme that the clones are living, feeling human beings who can die exactly like a human, in CW2003 they are shown like really the badass super soldiers (especially the ARC Troopers) who were bred for war. How much time it takes an episode to watch is an important factor. Because someone who binge watches 10 x 1 hour long netflix series under one day without sleep, drink, eat is not a guarantee that they will be able to sit through 133 x 22 minutes episodes. The sheer numbers will scare them away, nobody has a time watch 133 episodes when you can watch like... 5 different series instead! STORY TELLING COMPARED TO TCW: CW2003 goes for mostly visual story telling instead of talking. It's suspenseful, it's scenic, it's extreme, sometimes silly (rocket-launcher clone in the elevator with zero fuck given is still my favorite) but it's guarantee that you will remember. TCW episodes are varying from episodic to two-to-four episode arcs, it has silly comic relief episodes, it has serious dark episodes, obligatory beach episode, obligatory valentine day episode, obligatory school festival episodes obligatory-just kidding lol , so the lenght of one story can be varying, so is the quality of them. So unless you have a hyperfixation, or are a completionist, or interested enough, the episodes - in psychologycal term -, won't urge you the continue. Because in one 22 minutes episode you got a complete story without cliffhanger it won't make you think, because all the questions asked in the beginning of the episode was answered at the end. It won't rush you to continue, because you know that probably the next episode will be about an entire different conflict. You can stop anytime without the feeling of "just one more episode, just one more episode". Also, it doesn't help that you know how the story will end if you saw Revenge of the Sith. The forementioned uglyness... It took me years to finish TCW. I hated when it came out back in 2009 despite loving Star Wars and CW2003 and only after a decade picked up my interest again, it still took me years to finish it anyway. Back then, I really hated how everything got quickly 3D in neglection of 2D. But can't say it's ugly because it's old, it was ugly when it came out! You really have to force yourself to accept how it looks until you are fine with it, because your eyes got used to it. Also some episodes were boring, not entertaining, I just lost interest and only came back later to continue and I even forgot what happened before. I can't remember most of the arc expect those I was interested in to rewatch it again in the last years. Yes, the quality will improve. Season 7 is beautiful. The visuals of Bad Batch is also beautiful. But between season 6 and season 7, years passed.

THE BAD BATCH

Why do I recommend TBB for someone who ain't got time for shit™:

- TBB season are 16 episodes long. It's friendlier than 133 number wise. - There are only a few main characters to follow. It's important because when there are a large cast of characters, it's easy to get confused who is who and with literal CLONES as main characters, it's hard to distinguish them from each other. I know I can distinguished them, because I'm so fixated on them that every single verbal and non-verbal gesture they make will shoot me into outer space. - The Batch uses popular character tropes, different looks, different voices and tones, so they are recognisable, therefore, you will remember them for the rest of the show. So it will be a chance that you will fall for at least one member of the batch. And then you'll be thirsting mess over one character and eventually you'll be staning all of them, and eventually you will seek out more contents,fanfics, fanarts, headcanons with them that will attract TCW characters or events as well that will lead further deep down into the clone-hell. --> You can start showing the Bad Batch arc TCW where Jesse, Kix, Rex, Cody is also present, so there are plenty of topic and characters to talk about later. Also... Who is this Echo guy, how did he end up here? You can show the Domino Squad episodes, Kamino arc, citadel arc... - This could be a double-edge sword, but TBB are shown resemblance to Delta Squad, Omega Squad and Null ARC troopers. You know Delta Squad from the Video Game, Republic Commando, while the Omegas and Nulls are the main characters of the book series with the same name by Karen Traviss. I say it's double edged, because without these fantastic characters we wouldn't have The Bad Batch, but also I can understand the fans who wanted the Deltas adapted properly instead. - In season 1, the "fillers" add to the story and the characters as well and they won't get episodic-amnesia. (they may have TCW amnesia though... yes, I look at you Echo.) - In Season 1, there is a clear conflict which shadow always lingers even if the plot of the episode does not directly touches it. - Returning characters from TCW like Rex and Gregor could make the consumer ask the questions: who are these guys and why are they important? Rex is cute, is there more episodes with him? Oh yes, my dear prey friend, there is a whole series about him. - I only say season 1 because I'm not entirely satisfied how season 2 were handled while I enjoyed the first one. My hyperfixation for TCW last year literally started with Bad Batch. The trailer was so misleadingly awesome I wanted to watch it before season 2 would come out, but I wanted to finish TCW first (finally!). Season 6 and Season 7 were basicly binge watch and it got me interested again in the previous seasons too.

STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS 2008 (movie)

Why do I recommend this before TCW - It has Fox - Because sitting through a one-night movie is still easier than watching 133 episodes while maintaining the same quality of the show. - It has Fox - It shows the story how Ahsoka is introduced as Anakin's padawan the first time and we get a glimpse of their initial relationship and dynamic. - It has Fox - Basicly two arc in one movie but the introduced characters stay the same the entire time so you have time to get to know them, recognise them, and later you can remember them. - It has Fox - It has Fox.

TALES OF THE JEDI

It has that one episodes with the clones where they train Ahsoka. Possible questions could be asked: wtf happens at the END? Where is the rest of it? You can instantly show the last arc of season 7. Which would lead to another questions: wtf are the mandalorians, why Maul is here, wtf happening with Rex during O66, why is he hesitating to shoot Ahsoka? Now you can show the Chip conspiracy ARC with Fives! This Fives is a nice guy, is there more episodes of him? Oh boy~

And if they are interested in watching TCW with you..

- Watching together as spending time together usually helps. I think discord also has a function where you can stream movies to others. - You don't have to watch it in the exact order the episodes came out - Show arcs. There are lot of clone centric arcs. I literally collected all the episodes where Echo and Fives are present. --> Dad remembered Echo the whole time and he felt sorry for him. I showed the episodes in such order that his story could be followed easely. ------------- I know. I get it. Every episode is awesome. Every character is awesome. They are. They are all blorbos. They are our blorbos.

#this is probably my longest english written post lol #tcw #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars meta #clone wars meta #star wars #the clone wars 2003 #tales of the jedi #the bad batch #tbb #republic commando #repcomm

[starqueensthings]

coming soon!

The Only Exception:

Foreword, Basics, and References

Basics: 3rd POV, primarily following the main character (OC) with occasional shifts to other perspectives (separated by chapter). 

Pairing: Captain Howzer x fem!OC; then Jesse x fem!OC; then maybe something else… maybe something of the same… TEEHEE

Characters: more clone OC’s than I can count, tons of human OC’s, Twi-lek OC’s, many of our favourite TCW characters like Fives, Echo, Jesse, Kix, and Rex playing large parts of the story. Tup, Hardcase, Dogma, Cody, Keeli, and others also make appearances. 

Rating: will shift chapter by chapter between 16+ for mature themes, and 18+ for explicit themes. 

Posting Schedule: will not be consistent. The undulation of ADHD means there are days to weeks where my brain can’t translate a single sentence from thought to written word, so I’m hesitant to commit to a structured, weekly schedule but will do my best.

Things that probably don’t need to be noted, but because I’m both anxious and uncontrollably long-winded, I feel the need to explain: 

This work was written novel style, and not necessarily the traditional 2nd POV, x reader fanfiction style that we all know and love. These characters have names, histories, appearances that are both eluded to and mildly described, as well as personality traits that may not be desirable to some. For example: the main character, June, harbors some resentment toward men because of some lingering trauma from her past, and unfortunately lets it influence many of her decisions. There are times, particularly in the beginning of the story, where she can be highly sensitive to what some would consider harmless, off-the-cuff remarks, and becomes combative and irrational as a result. Her reactions are particularly placed to emphasize aspects of her character, so that we can witness her growth and/or regressions throughout the story. 

In that same token, this story will hover around + touch on some uncomfortable  topics, particularly toward the end. Whump/angst/hurt+comfort/fluff/smut will all be present themes, and I WILL be tagging each chapter very clearly and very thoroughly. SA and parental trauma will be eluded to throughout the entirety of the story and recollected/explained toward the end. Additionally, smut scenes will be segregated into their own chapters and will be written as not to affect the flow of the story, so if you choose to skip those, you don’t miss out on anything plot wise. All of that being said, this is largely a light hearted story about growth and unexpected love as it presents itself in several forms. 

Additionally (and very importantly) June is highly intelligent and medically proficient. I am neither of those things. Not even close. I tried to research as much medical terminology as possible prior to/during writing, but probably 75% of it will make no sense to someone who’s very familiar with medical things/conditions/procedures. Lastly, I tried to keep this story as canon compliant as possible, but the Clone Wars timeline is challenging to navigate. Creative liberty was taken in some spots where canon is murky, but otherwise I tried to remain as true to the Star Wars events as we know them. Language will fluctuate mildly between in-universe and modern day. I kept it as Star Wars as possible, but absolutely refuse to use “transparisteel” in place of glass, “flimsi” makes me cringe, and will always prefer shower over “sonic” lol 

Common Star Wars words are below:

Holo Computer: Desktop Computer

Holopad: kinda like a cellphone

Datapad: kinda like an iPad/tablet

Durasteel: metal

Duraplas: plastic

Massiff: a dog-ish creature that kinda looks like an alligator lol

“Kriff”: “Fuck” or “Shit” (a swear word, not the noun of a fuck or a shit lol)

“Kriffing”: “Fucking” (adjective, not the action of fucking)

Chrono: watch/clock

Hoverbed: like a gurney or hospital bed that floats 

Air Speeder: floating car with side-by-side seats

Speeder bike: floating motorcycle

Fresher: washroom/bathroom/loo

Di’kut: Idiot

Mesh’la: beautiful (noun)

Cyare: darling (noun)

Caf: coffee

“Maker” or “Gods” or “Stars”: “God” or “Lord” (frustrated; not religious lol)

Camtono: a cooler/portable freezer

Flimsi: paper

a bajillion more listed in this fantastic post.

Terms I made up because canon was lacking (list is on-going):

NBA or Nociceptor Blocking Agent: the pain injection we see them jab into peoples necks

USI or Universal Serum Injector: the injection tool itself (serum vial is loaded per dose)

Defibrillator “defib” Pods: small, high tech, portable defibrillator

Cleanser Tube: essentially a washing machine recessed into the hall. Very similar to a front loading washing machine where only the door is visible. 

Sanitation Station: a weird contraption that cleans/disinfects someone’s hands before coating them in nitrile (instead of pulling on surgical gloves). 

“Maker have mercy”: “for the love of God” (frustrated; not religious lol) 

Blue wine: white wine

Purple wine: red wine

Cauterizing Pen/Electromagnetic Stapler: used in the place of stitches

MedScanner: I did not conceptualize the scanner itself, but did make up all the settings and uses lol

“Flimsi Flinger”: “Paper Pusher”

“Double-barrelled Blaster”: a double edged sword

#also fkn LMAO at me changing the title of my own story #titles are my NEMESIS #I can’t commit #title anxiety is real #anywhooo #pls enjoy #The Only Exception #OC Sundays #fem!OC x Howzer #Howzer x fem!OC #fem!OC x Captain Howzer #Captain Howzer x fem!OC

[findmeinasunshower]

𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚: 𝑨𝒉𝒔𝒐𝒌𝒂 𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒐

word count: 1k

summary: post-tcw!Ahsoka x reader. oneshot. 

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood 

Ahsoka came into your life completely by surprise: A strange, hooded figure appearing at your door and asking for work as a mechanic.

You didn’t really need one—your moisture farm on Raada was small, only really big enough for you to work on alone—but something about her made you say yes. She looked about your age...and tired in a way that went beyond physical. 

So, against your better judgement, you invited her to stay and work on your small plot of land. She fixed up the busted droids that hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and you remember your surprise seeing them rolling out of your family shed. Before she came along, you did almost all of your work by hand.

Throughout all of this time, she said nothing about her past, and you were content to leave her to her mystery. Until some weeks later, the Empire found their way to Raada and destroyed your year’s worth of work to build an outpost. 

It was over a quiet, tearful dinner that night that Ahsoka suggested forming a rebellion.

And now, almost two years later, you’re still by her side in a rebellion of a much larger scale. When the worn Togruta showed up your doorstep, you didn’t think you’d end up on a starcruiser lightyears away from your home. But some part of you knew, even that early, that Ahsoka had no choice but to be stuck with you. 

You decided you liked her when she punched your xenophobic neighbor without hesitation for sneering at her lekku.

You knew you trusted her when she told you about her past as a Jedi padawan.

And you realized you loved her when you watched her get sucked into outer space.

It doesn’t matter how the Imperial spy got aboard the cruiser. All that matters right now is your grip on the grooved vent cover and the fact that the last thing Ahsoka did before she got vacuumed into the great beyond was Force push you so hard that you slammed into the wall.

“C-8!” You scream, and hope you’re not imagining the quiet beep from up near at the control panel. “You have to get the gravitational field up! Now!”

You hear C-8 beep in confirmation over the howling wind, and you thank the stars that you weren’t imagining the droid before. You chance a glance up towards the droid just in time to see a supply crate zipping toward you, and your ripped fingers protest as you swing yourself closer to the wall to avoid getting hit. Gritting your teeth against the pain, you find the strength to look up again and see C-8 has made it to the control panel. 

And just like that, it’s over. You gasp as the gravity shifts back to normal and you think you feel a rib crack as you slam back down onto the hangar floor.

“Shit,” you hiss and grip your side with bloodied fingers, as if that will help the internal injury. You don’t even have time to take stock of the situation before you feel the now-familiar heat of a blaster bolt whizzing just over your head. “Shit!”

You push yourself up and scramble behind the nearest X-wing, drawing your blaster as you go. You surprise yourself by nearly dropping the damned thing with your slippery red hands. Damn, that vent really did a number on you. 

Holding the blaster under your chin, you peer around the X-wing just in time to see Lyra (your personal favorite pilot) poke her head out of her own ship. She motions to you to stay down and you drop into a crouch just in time to see her lean over her hull and take out the spy, who had been sneaking up behind you.

You sigh in relief and lower your blaster. “C, is that all of them?” One chirp for yes rings across the hangar. “How long were we down?” The droid chirps again and your heart sinks.

The gravitational field was only down for a thirty seconds. Thirty seconds. And the only reason you’re still standing here is because of Ahsoka.

“Oh, stars.” Ahsoka. You quickly tuck your blaster into its holster and take off running towards the blue force field at the end of the hangar. A group of pilots and mechanics are gathered towards the middle of the field, staring out at the bodies and various debris floating in the space beyond. Your heart speeds up as you scan the debris desperately and it’s not long before a flash of orange catches your eye. 

As usual, she’s at the eye of the storm, and one hand is extended out in front of her as she pulls herself back toward the ship with the last bit of strength she has left. You rush over to where she’ll drop in, and the force field warbles as she enters the gravitational field and drops like a stone, unmoving.

"Ahsoka!” you shriek and sprint toward her, shoving the pilot who reached her first out of the way so you can kneel beside her.

Every inch of her is covered in ice from the tips of her lekku to her boots. Her eyelashes are white with frost, and when you take her hand in yours, you notice that the tips of her fingers are blue.

Your hands are shaking as you bring them up to cradle her face gently, feeling the thin layer of frost crumble beneath your fingertips. Tears well up in your eyes when she doesn’t move an inch under your touch. “Ahsoka?” you whimper her name, to no avail. “Ahsoka, please, don’t do this.”

Still, no response. After a few moments of suffocating silence you rock forward on your knees and press your forehead against hers. “Ahsoka Tano, you have to come back to me,” you command. “If you do this to me I will never forgive you.”

And, as if on cue, just as you open your eyes, her beautiful blue ones flutter open.

“Oh stars, Ahsoka,” you sob with relief and press a frantic kiss to her forehead before wrapping your arms around her shoulders and burying your face in her neck. Her body is ice cold.

“(y/n),” she mumbles, voice gravelly in your ear. “You’re bleeding.”

You huff out a hysterical laugh and pull back just enough so you can see her face. “Oh, that’s so typical. You just pulled yourself out of outer space and you’re worried because my hands are bleeding.”

The Togruta cracks a small smile. “That’s right.”

“I can’t stand you,” you say, even as you feel your face crumple with relief. You dip your head and press a kiss to her cheek. “Force, Ahsoka, I thought you’d died. You can never do that to me again, okay?”

Your tears only intensify when you feel her arms wrap weakly around you in return. “(y/n), if you’re going to kiss me...just do it.”

You laugh hysterically and press a long kiss to her lips, savoring the fact that she’s alive. She’s not lost in outer space, never to be seen again. And if that’s what it took for you to finally kiss Ahsoka Tano, then you can’t be too mad about it.

#findmeinasunshower #sunshowerimagines #ahsoka tano #ahsoka tano x reader #ahsoka tano imagine #ahsoka tano x you #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #ahsoka tano fanfiction #fandom imagine #imagine #x reader #x you #fanfiction #the clone wars #the clone wars imagine #the clone wars x reader #the clone wars x you #the clone wars fanfiction #rebels #star wars rebels #star wars rebels x reader #star wars rebels x you #star wars rebels fanfiction

[knightprincess]

Wake Up (Arc Trooper Jesse x Medic Reader)

Warning: Set during Order 66 (TCW season 7) Pairing: (Jesse/Fem reader) Pronouns: She/Her Description: Love can be the most powerful thing in the universe .... and the most devastating. At kar'taylir darasuum cuyir at kadala Words: 2.3k

A thick layer of dread blanketed everything. The Tribunal had fallen into silence. Despite the victory on Mandalore, there was no celebration of success. There was no chatter between brothers, or excitement about returning to Coruscant, not even the droids aboard dared make a sound. Instead, there was only the foreboding sense of doom. 

Ahsoka had returned to the bridge with Rex. Both watched as the cruiser launched into Hyperspace, as the many colors settled into the swirling of blue and white. A heavy conversation between friends taking place, both agreeing the only good to come from the war was the clones, the loyal soldiers of the republic, and friends. The two shared a moment of kindness as if both could sense the war reaching its conclusion. As if both could feel the impending devastation. 

At the same time (Y/N) walked silently with Jesse through the many halls. The loyal Arc Trooper had become determined to distract her, attempting to ease the feeling of failure she felt, over the deaths of so many troopers. Despite her best efforts, she hadn't been able to save them all, least of all the ones caught by Maul. After some time the durasteel walls had all begun to blend together, to the point (Y/N) believed the two were walking in circles. Every now and again, she would look over to her companion. Sometimes Jesse would already be looking back at her, offering her a cheeky wink. Other times he was staring ahead, his honey eyes not focusing on anything in particular, as his mind becomes lost in thought. 

"Something wrong?" asked (Y/N), taking hold of Jesse's hand in a gentle grip, if only to guide him back to the present. For a few short seconds, Jesse looked at the civvi medic before him with confusion. A shadow of a grin appeared on his lips as he looked down at their hands, linked together. Taking notice of how small her hand was in his, and how soft it was compared to his own rough one. 

"The nightmares" whispered Jesse, as if his words were a secret only meant for her to hear. "Ever since I was captured by Maul, it's felt like my nightmares are gaining more power, it's like unexplainable anxiety has gotten ahold of me but I can't shake it away. Every time I think I've gotten away from it, it takes hold again" quietly voiced Jesse, his honey eyes shimmering with hope she'd understand the fear, and hope she wouldn't think any less of him. 

He'd been about to say something else when his attention turned to the static voice emanating from his helmet, his golden eyes glimmering with almost fear. Slowly Jesse lifted his helmet to put it on, his features appearing more serious as he did so, although he never spoke a single word. Instead, his body language changed the moment the words truly reached him, where he'd once been partially relaxed, he was now stiff, almost robotic, and cold. Even with his helmet hiding his face, (Y/N) knew something was different, she could tell the warm glow his eyes had, had been distinguished. 

"Get to a shuttle, and leave" ordered Jesse, with staggered breaths, as if he was fighting against something. His voice was hard, cold but also laced with pain. For a moment he held a hand to the left side of his helmet, hovering over the temple as if he was nursing a sudden and serve headache. Then without another word, he ran off toward the bridge, leaving (Y/N) both confused and concerned. Even more so when the sound of blaster fire rang out from the direction Jesse had run off to. At first (Y/N) had convinced herself Maul had escaped, but soon realized otherwise upon a trooper running past her muttering about the traitor Ahsoka Tano. 

"Trip" called (Y/N), catching the attention of the passing trooper, his helmet decorated in honor of Ahsoka. Trip stood before her as if she was his commanding general, although he didn't speak a word, instead waiting for her to regain the confidence to ask her obvious question. "What's going on?" squeaked the Civvi medic, as her attention fleetingly turned to the passing troopers, all of them seemed on a mission of some kind, determined to see their given task through to the end. 

"Special orders from the Emperor, ma'am" robotically answered Trip, before running off to catch up with the group he'd been with before. (Y/N) couldn't help the shiver to rattle down her spine. Just as her confusion grew. The emperor? Who was that? What was going on? Why was everyone suddenly acting so weirdly? Why was Ahsoka suddenly branded a traitor? So many questions ran through (Y/N)'s thoughts, to the point she hadn't even realized she'd begun to move toward the docking bay, subconsciously doing as Jesse had ordered. 

Just as she began to regain her own movement, she felt someone grab hold of her arm. Snapping her head around quickly to see Jesse's emotionless helmet. Not a word escaped him, as he began to walk at a quick pace towards the docking bay, pulling her along. He'd stop every now and again and order passing troopers to do something, but never let go of her. It was only when Jesse pulled her down a quiet corridor, did (Y/N) receive the final piece of the puzzle. In the form of Jesse muttering four words, as if he was trying to tell her what was going on without directly going against the programming. 

"Good soldiers follow order" voiced Jesse, he never turned to face her, only tightening his grip when he felt her struggle against him. 

"Fives" whispered (Y/N), remembering the friend she lost, remembering the conspiracy that surrounded him and Tup. How Fives had been so determined to prove something. "The inhibitor chip" shakingly commented the civvi medic, feeling the dread and fear grip at her stomach. Even more so when she remembered how all of it ended. How Tup had died so unexpectedly and Fives had been accused of attempting to assassinate the chancellor, all of it had been explained away as a virus. But (Y/N) hadn't believed it. Even less so when Kix suddenly disappeared. 

*~* Ahsoka & Rex *~* 

"We need to find (Y/N)" spoke Rex, looking around the small medbay, finding it unnerving that the friendly medic wasn't stowed away inside as she normally was. A lump of fear formed in his throat, as reality dawned on him. If (Y/N) wasn't in her medbay, then she was somewhere on the ship, wandering around and likely in danger. It was a coin toss on who posed more of a threat to the medic, the troopers who had befriended her, Jesse who loved her, or Maul, who was now on the loose and causing chaos and doing who knows what. 

"She was with Jesse" announced Ahsoka, her eyes widening. Jesse had been on the bridge as the chaos had begun to unfold. After she'd gotten away and Rex had given out orders, neither of them had seen him. "He wouldn't hurt (Y/N) Rex. But I agree, we have to find her" added the former Jedi Commander, feeling the lump of dread form in her throat. Even she couldn't believe her own words, less so when she knew Rex wouldn't hurt her before the inhibitor chip triggered, despite their strong bond through friendship, he hadn't been able to fight the effects of the chip for long. Although long enough to direct her towards Fives. 

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt you either but I also couldn't stop the chip from taking control" asserted the great Captain, as the two prepared to fight, both knew their objectives. They had to find a way off the ship and somehow find (Y/N) amongst the chaos. Neither wanted to think of the worst-case scenario, the one where (Y/N) too had been branded a traitor and executed or she'd been caught in the crossfire when the troopers aboard attempted to execute Maul. Instead, both chose to look on the bright side, both hoping (Y/N) had already gotten off the ship somehow, or at least had stayed hidden. Although neither could deny their gut feeling. Jesse had already gone back for her. 

"She won't leave Jesse behind" uttered Rex, already suspecting getting (Y/N) to leave without Jesse was going to be an impossible task. Even more so when it was guaranteed she'd already worked out what was happening. (Y/N) was stubborn, to say the least, but passionate. Even General Skywalker had found out the hard way, it was impossible to get her to change her mind once it was made up. 

Their situation turned dire the moment they felt the cruiser be ripped from hyperspace, both suspecting Maul had done something to sabotage the ship or if it wasn't Maul then it was (Y/N) doing what she could distract the troopers, likely to aid those who needed it. Upon learning the hyperdrive had been completely destroyed and the cruiser had become trapped in a moon's gravitational pull, the mission to get off the ship became a race against time. A race that only got harder the moment the bay doors opened to reveal the majority of the troopers aboard waiting for them. Jesse leading them, on the boxes near the shuttle was (Y/N) guarded by several troopers. 

"You're a good soldier, Rex, and so are all those men down there. They may be willing to die, but I am not the one who is going to kill them" calmly spoke Ahsoka, her words gentle as if intended on soothing Rex's breaking heart. The two left the control center minutes later with a plan in mind, although they knew their plan had flaws in it. Jesse was the second in command, currently under the effects of the inhibitor chip and order 66, and, he was no fool. 

The droids did as instructed, quietly making their way over to where (Y/N) was, one accessing the scomp data port, whereas R7, shocked the troopers guarding (Y/N). The civvi medic picked up one of the blasters and set it to stun, already determined she was going to help Ahsoka and now Rex escape the ship before it inevitably crashed. The moment the fight started and the lifts dropped to the maintenance deck, (Y/N) wasted little time in stunning the troopers closest to her position, preventing some of them from shooting Rex from behind. Despite her lack of training, (Y/N) jumped into action when Ahsoka tried to stop Maul from getting away in the shuttle. Stunning as many troopers as possible. 

"Protect Soka, I'll help the droids" yelled (Y/N), as she ran to defend the droids, ensuring they could do their assigned tasks a little longer. She fired as many stun bolts as she could, refusing to hurt the troopers she'd come to call friends, even more so when she knew they weren't in control. It wasn't long before (Y/N) lost track of Rex and Ahsoka, although she took notice of the circular hole cut into the floor. Her attention soon turned back to the troopers heading in her direction, firing at as many as possible before they got to the droids. The pair of astromechs managed to raise the lifts again before being destroyed. (Y/N) herself taking a blaster bolt to the shoulder before losing her balance to the sudden quake to rip through the imploding cruiser. 

Jesse had spotted her upon regaining his footing after being thrown off the maintenance lift, stalking her as if he was a predator hunting its prey. He'd lost one of his blasters during the chaos, the other one was on her, ready to fire without warning. Another explosion from the engines forced the ship to lose its stabilizers, throwing everyone to the port side. The force of it alone throwing both (Y/N) and Jesse into one of the partisan walls, forcing Jesse to lose his last blaster. 

"Wake up Jesse. This isn't you" called (Y/N), reaching for his helmet, only to be thrown from the safety position when something exploded close by. She would have fallen to her death, had Jesse not grabbed onto her wrist. (Y/N) wasn't sure if it was from instinct or if he'd come to his sense as he pulled her back to the durasteel wall both had been thrown against. 

"I told you to leave" whispered Jesse, pulling her close to him although refusing to allow her to remove his helmet. Refusing to allow her to see his tears. "Why did you stay?" asked the Arc Trooper, wrapping his arms around her, both knew their end was fast approaching, the only question being which would get them first. The crash, the ship imploding or the fires quickly approaching their position. Maybe the smoke would get them if they were lucky. 

"I promised I wouldn't leave you again" quietly responded (Y/N), placing her head against Jesse's shoulder, accepting her inevitable death willingly. "At Kar'taylir Darasuum Cuyir At Kadala" she gently whispered, closing her eyes upon noticing how close the peaceful wings of death were. 

"At Kar'taylir Darasuum Cuyir At Kadala" softly responded Jesse, holding (Y/N) a little tighter as he leaned his helmeted cheek against the top of her head. At least thankful he knew where she was when the end come. Just getting to hold his cyare one last time was enough for him to accept death. Even more so when he could do so free of the inhibitor chip's control. His only regret being he couldn't apologize to Rex and Ahsoka.  "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum" whispered Jesse, as the cruise crashed into the surface of the moon before everything was swallowed by a fireball and suffocating smoke. 

Masterlist

#star wars oneshot #star wars the clone wars #order 66 #ARC trooper Jesse #captain rex #Ahsoka Tano #clone wars season 7 #reader interactive #reader insert #medic reader #oneshot #Cross posted to AO3 #cross posted to deviantart #cross posted to wattpad #cross posted to quotev #set during order 66 #jesse x reader

[bungalowbear]

Across the Stars

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!reader

Warnings: mentions of war, descriptions of smut but nothing explicit

Summary: You are sent to help with a conflict on Anaxes. You reunite with the Bad Batch and accompany them on a mission. Hunter has a gift for you.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This part takes places right at the beginning of TCW season 7. This is my first dive into writing for the Star Wars fandom. Any advice or feedback is entirely welcome. This is the first part of a series, which will be updated monthly. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You’ve been asked by the Jedi Council to travel to Anaxes to assist Generals Windu and Skywalker on their battlefront, where one of the Republic’s largest shipyards is under attack by Separatist forces led by Admiral Trench. Obi-Wan is also on route to the Outer Rim planet. So you’re hoping between the four of you that the conflict can swiftly come to an end.

You enter the atmosphere and fly toward the Republic base, landing your starship in the landing bay. When the hatch to the cockpit opens you see a familiar ship across the way. Grabbing your bag, you jump out of the pilot’s seat and gracefully leap from the wing of the ship, onto the ground, and jog over to the Marauder.

The side hatch is open. As you get closer, you can hear several voices. When you stop at the bottom of the metal stairs that lead up into the ship a large figure appears. His familiar smile is infectious and your mouth immediately stretches into a wide grin.

“Hi, Wrecker.” You greet the clone with a wave.

“Well look who it is.”

Wrecker laughs as he charges down the stairs, calling your name and sweeping you into a giant hug. You let out a loud laugh while you hold onto the armor plates that cover his shoulders as he spins you around. When you’re back on your feet again you spot Tech and Crosshair coming down the stairs. Your gaze travels further upward and you spot Hunter leaning against the entrance of the ship, then your attention returns to the other three clones.

“Hello, boys.” You hold up your bag. “I come bearing gifts.”

Wrecker punches a hand in the air. “Alright!”

“You needn’t have done so,” Tech says as he adjusts his goggles, though leaning in for a closer look. “Unless, of course, you’ve managed to acquire the item we previously discussed?”

You chuckle as you dig through your bag and produce said item. A memory disc that contains a copy of a rare book on intergalactic animal species. “Was there ever any doubt?”

“Yes,” Tech answers. You hand over the disc with a frown. “But not as high a percentage as you’re thinking.”

“That makes me feel better,” you mumble.

“What about me?” Wrecker pushes past Tech, but the smaller clone doesn’t pay it any mind as he inserts the disc into his datapad and focuses on the text.

“As requested,” your smile returns as you pull out Wrecker’s gift, “one carton of sour berry sweets.”

“Thanks.” Wrecker takes the carton from you, quick to open it and pop a few of the treats in his mouth. “I’ve been wanting these for a while now.”

“No problem at all, big guy.” You turn to Crosshair, tempering your energy to match his. “And I’ve got something for you, too.”

Crosshair arches a brow. Two of his fingers casually roll the toothpick between his teeth. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I know,” you shrug before reaching your hand into your bag. “But I heard your night vision scope was busted. There were a few extra in the armory back on Kamino, so I grabbed one for you before coming here.”

Though the rest of Clone Force 99 had taken to you fairly quickly since you’d first met near the start of the Clone Wars, Crosshair still kept his distance both in the literal and figurative sense. But you remain optimistic that with each encounter you’re slowly chipping away at his stoic exterior.

So when Crosshair accepts the scope from you, nodding to you in silent thanks, it takes all of your willpower not to let the elation outwardly show. You keep your composure though, watching him turn away to join Wrecker and Tech.

As you watch the three brothers interacting with each other you feel eyes on you. Turning your head, you look up at the Marauder where Hunter still stands with his arms crossed and his steady gaze on you. A warmth blooms in your chest, despite how much you try to temper it with a heavy does of reality.

You are a Jedi Knight, having completed your trials just before the start of the Clone Wars. You were assigned to stay with your former master Shaak Ti on Kamino as representatives of the Republic, overseeing the production and training of the clones. The cloning facility is where you first met Hunter and his squadron. You don’t remember who made the first move, only that after the first time you’d slept together it became almost instinct to seek each other out.

Initially, the arrangement was mutually beneficial for blowing off some steam. You’d lost count of how many times you’d crammed yourself into a maintenance closet on Kamino or snuck in a quick session post-mission on whichever planet you were both assigned to.

However, recently you’ve noticed a shift in the dynamic. Hurried hands have turned to lingering touches and crashing of lips have become tender kisses. You know Hunter senses it too. But calling attention to it would mean talking through feelings that may or may not be developing, and while you know nothing good can come of staying ignorant you also know nothing good can come from full awareness of them either. Not when you’re in the middle of a war. Hunter has his own squad to lead, and while you act more as reinforcement than a commanding officer you’re still bound by the Jedi Code. While having an active sex life is not forbidden, forming attachments is.

“Got anything left for me in there?” Hunter asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You walk up the steps, stopping when you’re one rung below him. You reach into your bag and pull out a thin piece of cloth.

“That bandana you’re always wearing is getting pretty old.” You toss the item up to him and he catches it easily. “Thought you could use a new one.”

“Thanks.” Hunter nudges his chin behind you. “Wrecker gave you quite the welcome.”

“He was just happy to see me.” You shrug, turning your head to look down at the other three clones with a fond expression. After a moment, your gaze returns to Hunter. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

He scoffs. “I am not jealous.”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant. You’ll get your proper welcome,” you lower your voice and lean in closer, “when we can find a minute alone.”

“Just one minute?” Hunter smirks.

You playfully shove him. Your name is called and you turn to see Anakin and Captain Rex making their way over to the Marauder.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Anakin jokes.

“Good to see you again, General,” Rex greets you. “We were just about to take off.”

“You’re leaving?” You brow furrows. “But I thought the conflict was here on Anaxes?”

“There’s been a new development,” Anakin says. “We’ll brief you on the way. That is, if you’ll be joining us.”

You look down at Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker, who gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up. Then back at Hunter. He nods definitively and your mind is made up.

“I’m in.”

As soon as the Marauder touches down on base after the mission on Skako Minor, Echo is hauled straight to the med bay. You don’t really know Echo, having served more time in the field after the so-called rescue at the Citadel, but subsequently you’d gotten to know Rex fairly well. So when he told you that he believed Echo was alive you were inspired by the captain’s hope, and you knew that whether he was right or not it was worth finding out. And you were glad he was right.

While Rex accompanies Echo, the rest of you file into the command center for a debrief. After Generals Windu and Kenobi are filled in, Hunter and his squad are dismissed. You and Anakin stay behind for an update from the council. Reassignments are already being given pending the outcome here on Anaxes, and while the other Generals will travel to different battlefronts you will be returning to Kamino.

You leave the meeting and walk the halls of the base toward your temporary quarters. Your mind wanders as you think about Echo and the state you all found him in.

Day in and day out preparing the clones for battle has always been your primary concern. But ever since the departure of Padawan Tano, you’ve started to look beyond the lines of the battlefield. As the war continues so many lives are forever altered all across the galaxy. Both soldier and civilian. And you also can’t help realize how much it’s changed you.

You’re currently not very aware of your surroundings. Apparently so much so that you don’t sense the hidden presence until you’re pulled by the arm into a maintenance closet. When the door shuts you’re pushed up against the wall by a firm body. A hand covers your mouth, muffling your protests.

It only takes you a second to recognize the man in the dark, cramped space. He removes his hand and you sag against the wall in relief.

“Hunter.” You shut your eyes, hanging your head as you let out a long breath. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

“So I noticed.” He rests his hand against your neck, his thumb gently urging your face upward. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” you say. His warm eyes melt into yours. He doesn’t push for more, but you’ve come to feel so familiar around him that it’s easy to speak your mind. “And everywhere.”

Hunter makes a noise of understanding. His finger smoothed along the edge of your chin while his eyes inspect every inch of your face.

“Come back,” he whispers softly. “Be here. With me.”

His hand drifts down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your skin. He grabs the hem of your top and slowly lifts it up and over your head, leaving you half naked. Suddenly, he devours your lips with a rough kiss. You start to undress him and take apart his armor, hitting the floor with a soft clang. His undersuit and your trousers are the last items of clothing to go before his hands press into your hips. His fingers skim across your stomach and then travel lower. You moan as he gets you ready for him, making you feel so good.

Hunter lifts one of your legs around his waist and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders as he takes you against the wall. The small space fills with the sound of heavy breathes and your barely contained cries of pleasure. Hunter drops his head into the crook of your neck as his hips move faster and faster. You bite down on your lip as you reach your peak. He isn’t far behind when he grunts into your neck and his hips still.

You both take a minute to regain your normal breathing before redressing. The shift you were thinking of earlier is palpable in the air between you. It might make you a coward, but you decide on a quick exit. However, as you go to open the door Hunter stops you.

“I, uh…” he falters, “have something for you.”

Hunter pulls out a necklace from the pouch attached to his belt. It’s a long black metal chain with a silver sphere attached to it. He dangles the necklace in front of you and you see through the thin line that’s cut around the sphere a blue light. It pulses in a seemingly random pattern, going dimmer and then brighter as it does. It reminds you of a heartbeat.

“I know you’re not much for jewelry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But I figured this would be easier to hide than a bracelet.”

You trace the tip of your finger along the silver sphere. It hums beneath your touch. “What is that?”

“When it’s open like this it emits a specific electromagnetic frequency. And when it’s closed it stops.” Hunter demonstrates this as he pushes the two halves together and the humming stops. “To open it you just press underneath here and it will separate again and the frequency will resume. So if you ever need me, I can find you.”

“Hunter…”

You’re at a loss for words. You’ve never been given something like this before. And if you accept this gift then there is no more living in willful ignorance of what your and Hunter’s relationship has become.

“What’s been going on between us…” he pauses. “I know how I feel. And I know that the Jedi—”

“We can’t.”

“I know.” He sighs. A somber look takes over his features. “But I just want you to know that you can always count on me. That will never change.”

Despite your better judgement, you take the necklace from him. You don’t miss the relief that briefly flashes in his eyes as you do.

“Thank you, Hunter.”

You raise it over your head and it settles perfectly around your neck. You tuck the silver sphere beneath your shirt, closed and silent where it rests against your sternum. Hidden from view.

“You’re welcome.”

Leaning in, you place a kiss against his cheek near his skull tattoo. You linger for a moment and close your eyes. You know you have not made the right choice, but instead a selfish one. You can only hope it does not produce unfavorable consequences later on.

You leave the closet first, making sure the coast is clear before you go.

i do not have a taglist. please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.

#catalog #across the stars #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars

[accidental-spice]

For the sketchbook ask game-- 8, 28, 71, 118, 123, 141, 159, 195, 205, and 224

Okay, let's see...

We have, in order of appearance: Uncle Iroh x Wait For It art, Daredevil screencap redraw, TCW x The Hobbit, characters from Wishtress by Nadine Brandes, screencap redraw from The Punisher, my OCs Leila and Jay, Kanera Epic AU, Chenford kiss and my OC Amaani in Mandalorian armor, and Lucy Chen!

Thanks for the ask!!

#ask response #sketchbook asks #chenford #kastle #kanera #tcw #swr #the rookie #the punisher #daredevil #lucy chen #uncle iroh #atla #my ocs #pizzazz is who i am

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Information for each found below the cut. It could be some time before either series will be closer to having chapters ready to publish, which is why I'm opening requests for the time being! I worked on these a little while in the middle of the Hunter series.

"Wounded Wings":

Started out with the idea of being an x reader, realized "hmm, this feels more like an OC because there's a lot of Hey The Person Writing This Really Likes Birds And Is Projecting™ vibes about it" for what I've written of it so far and felt it's getting too niche for an x reader. Chances were not many Tech girlies (GN) were also gonna be Really Into Birds. [I could possibly re-write to make it an x reader.]

You're... gonna be reading a lot about made-up birds, most likely.

This series will take place Pre-TBB!Echo, and there is a chance he will not show up at all or until much, much later. [This will require me to actually get to Season 7 in TCW by suffering through a few fan favorite deaths I've been putting off (Tup, Fives, ect.) to have the full context of their TCW appearance characterizations.]

OC will be Force-sensitive, many possible instances of "the Force works how I say it does", and it works around the headcanon that Tech has some autistic tendencies. Smaller AU factors. Slow burn. Idiots (affectionate) to lovers sorta thing; Tech's bros see it a mile away, Tech just thinks she's a "Very Good Friend :)" for hopefully just the right amount of time.

"Hunting the Nexu"

HtN is an AU/fix-it series involving a fem!Bounty Hunter "hired" by the Bad Batch to spring Crosshair from Mount Tantiss. Meaning "Plan 99? Don't know her!" for all of us traumatized by the Season 2 finale.

No one dies in this series, at least not the major fan favorites.

Like "Sorry, Wrong Comms!" there will be hints of Reader having a backstory/aspects of personality that are not left quite so vague or open-ended; but for the most part flexible enough to put yourself in the place of the few uses of "[____] spoke with a slow drawl as she gave the marksman a cool look. 'Aw... I didn't take you for the type to hold a grudge, Crosshair...'" [not an actual sentence in-series] throughout the series.

This series does give fem!Reader an established moniker that you'll be referred to more often than an actual name.

Canon-divergent. One sided Enemies-to-Lovers vibes. [Would require me to stop putting off Season 2 re-watch.] Crosshair will not be a complete shit all the time, and there's going to be better coping strategies for everyone much like in S,WC! because they deserve 'em.

#frosts fandom freakouts #scheduled post #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tech tbb #tech bad batch #clone trooper tech #tbb crosshair #crosshair tbb #crosshair bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #tech #Wounded Wings #Hunting the Nexu

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

I've finally gotten around to making a side blog for my Star Wars nonsense so that's what this is. Hello if you've managed to stumble across this weird corner of the internet. I'm currently hyperfixated on The Bad Batch so that's basically all that's going to be here, though some other Star Wars stuff will probably appear as well.

It's been a long time since I've interacted properly on Tumblr and I really don't know what I'm doing and I'm still not sure on what the proper etiquette for everything is so if I stuff up something, please gently let me know (I don't deal well with confrontation and upsetting people) and I'll fix it.

Current Projects

Watching The Clone Wars for the First Time

I've always meant to watch The Clone Wars, it's been on my To Watch list for ages, but for various reasons it just never happened. Time to fix that. I'm documenting my first watch through of The Clone Wars with reaction posts and I'm loving it so far. I've never watched Rebels either so once I've finished watching TCW then I'll do the same thing for Rebels.

Fics

Open and Waiting (NSFW) - Tech x f!reader (mentions of Hunter x f!reader, Crosshair x f!reader, Wrecker x f!reader and Echo x f!reader)

#pinned post #pinned #star wars #sw #the clone wars #watching the clone wars for the first time #rebels #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tcw #fics