you are a nightsister and fifteen years old; you do not know your mother or your father, as is tradition, because mother talzin is mother-to-all and your father is unimportant. mother talzin cups your face and says daughter, you are a woman now, you will be one of us. a witch of dathomir.
and you are not.
what do you say? what do you tell her?
his name is – it doesn’t matter, not yet. but he tips his head into the hand and averts his eyes and asks her if they can talk alone, and suddenly, they just are, the two of them surrounded by nothing more than the mist. what is wrong, my daughter?
i am not, he says, blurting it out, before clamping his jaw tight, like a trap closing shut on a mouse just a second too late.
what do you mean, child?
i am your son, he says, quietly. i am … i am not a nightsister. she looks … curious, then, studying him, and calls him by that name, the name-that-is-no-more.
are you sure?
very, he replies, and he is unsure how his voice is steady, but it is.
she cradles his face. my son, then. are you prepared for the changes that will come? this may be something you cannot turn back from. and he knows, and his chest hurts with fear-of-the-unknown. aches, past his ribs. but he nods.
they give him his tattoos two days later, and by the time a week has passed, mother talzin runs a hand over his head, and there are tiny sharp points, poking up there, like plants just pushing through the ground after winter. before mother talzin gives him to the other side of the planet, she gives him a name, too.
animus, she calls him. may you find yourself here.
his old name dies. the memory of it sinks from all of their minds, the sound of it nothing more than an old echo. he is animus and he is sixteen years old and a nightbrother, now. the old purple tattoos still show up some, under the sunset-color of his skin, looking like old bruises.
( when he presses them, he pretends that they are. better won in combat than the remnants of being not-right. )
he knows some of the witch-magic the nightsisters use, but he thinks he is not meant to use it, here. when he tried, he burnt his fingers for it, sticking them in his mouth until the soreness faded.
do you have your own magic, here? he asks one of his brothers, and they laugh, not meanly so, and toss something to him. he catches it before even realizing what it is – a sturdy quarterstaff, almost, imbedded with metal in places.
sure we do, the other nightbrother says, with a relaxed grin. and there’s your magic wand. stand to, brother.
when the sun fades over dathomir that night, his chest aches, but from the fair cropping of bruises he received, and there is an arm slung over his shoulders, his own elbow digging into another’s ribs, throat sore for his breath, as well.
this pain will fade as the bruises do.
Tag: fic recs
Imagine Obi Wan and Anakin during the Clone Wars having a rare break from the war back at the Jedi Temple deciding to go a few rounds in the practice ring together, eager to test their skill in a controlled environment since they rarely having time to train properly because they’re always in actual battles and having to modify their fighting techniques to the conditions. They use the practice rooms in the evening when everyone’s eating so it’s quieter so they’re less likely to disturb anyone.
In the very corner of the room a young Padawan is practising a kata that she can’t quite get the hang of when Anakin and Obi Wan walk in. She’s stood there completely transfixed, watching as they start warming up and remembering all the stories she’s heard about the front lines of the Clone War and the daring victories of Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. Then they begin duelling, slowly at first, but gradually fighting more fiercely as the competitive nature of their relationship wins out. Imagine what it must look like – The Heroes With No Fear, unstoppable Jedi duo, war heroes using their battle sharp skills and instinctive understanding of each other’s fighting style against each other.
She skirts around the edges of room and runs down to one of the canteens where the some other Initiates and Padawans are eating, bursting into the room and yelling “SKYWALKER AND KENOBI ARE HAVING IT OUT IN THE PRACTICE CHAMBERS”. The entire room drops their stuff and runs, dragging people they meet in the corridor along with them.
Older Padawans and eventually Knights and Masters get wind that something’s going on and start showing up as well. Pretty soon they’re surrounded by a crowd egging them on and are single-handedly responsible for a sudden surge in some very un-Jedi like gambling trends.
Eventually, Anakin gets distracted being cocky with the crowd and Obi Wan manages to knock him on his arse and disarm him.
Yoda refuses to disclose how much money he won out of the betting pool.
Magister
“Obi-Wan?”
“Mhm?”
“Why do I
have to call you a master?”Obi-Wan
glanced up from his datapad, blinking in confusion. Anakin thought Obi-Wan
looked rather like a new-born bantha with his spiky hair sticking into every
direction; it was only three months after the battle of Naboo and Obi-Wan was
still weird around him.“And you
question this eras-long tradition exactly why…?”Anakin
frowned.“Never mind.”
The young
man pierced him with a long inquisitive look. Anakin thought that his eyes were
like Coruscanti sky, changing throughout the day. They were blue when he woke
up, grey when he set for bed. Green when he gazed into the sunset.“I know I
am… not what you imagined when you accepted Master’s offer… I understand it is…
difficult to view me as a teacher-”
dunno if you’re accepting promts but what about a fett taking leia’s virginity (willingly of course) prompt. Or some other good girl bad boy dynamic
Because I need VERY little convincing to write Boba/Leia smut:
Terms and Conditions
Rated EBTW, this version of Leia is very much inspired by @pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome‘s fic To Move the Universe
I ship Obi-wan in an OT3 of Naps/Obi-wan/Tea. :)
Under the cut, Obi-Wan finally takes a nap!
Let me do it right – TrickyTricky – Star Wars – All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
Summary: Commander Cody decides to turn right instead of left during the Umbara Campaign
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars – All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) – All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Boil (Star Wars), Pong Krell, Mace Windu, Yoda (Star Wars), Plo Koon, Depa Billaba
Additional Tags: Episode: s04e07 Darkness on Umbara, Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Some bad stuff still happens, But others do not!, Competence Kink
Let me do it right – TrickyTricky – Star Wars – All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
Three Things That Are Not the Reasons Why Commander Cody Began to Wear a Certain Uniform Accessory, and One That Is – TrickyTricky – Star Wars – All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
I wrote a silly, fluffy thing! Please enjoy.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars – All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) – All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/CT-7567 | Rex, Clones/Clones
Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boil (Star Wars), Waxer (Star Wars), Wooley (Star Wars), Gearshift (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Polyamory, clone culture, Fluff, Hero Worship, naps, actually, This whole story is pretty much just a ridiculously transparent excuse to get Obi-Wan to take a nap
Summary: Rex heard a loud clatter and a soft curse from the other side of the bridge and turned in time to see one of his soft-shell brethren leaning down to pick up a dropped datapad. The trooper had obviously just turned from his station and caught sight of the 212th Commander’s new accoutrements. Rex watched, vaguely amused and entirely sympathetic, as the hapless trooper fumbled blindly across the deck, trying to feel for the dropped piece of equipment without taking his eyes off the visual feast that had just sauntered through the door.
❝ remember , we’re madly in love , so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it .❞ + codywan?
he’s still not going to get over the beard being gone.
it’s been a good few weeks since the rako hardeen thing, and general kenobi looks like… well, anyone but general kenobi, missing the swooping ginger hair and distinctive beard, hair currently short to his head and closer to a light brown.
it means he and cody ( or some of the other 212th ) ends up running recon or spy missions a lot of the time, taking advantage of general kenobi looking like a complete stranger. cody isn’t specially trained in undercover missions, and he doesn’t actually think he’s any good at them, but that’s not stopped his general from taking him on – this is the fourth, so far, where it’s just been the two of them.
they’re sitting on opposite sides of a table in an outdoor cafe, kenobi lounging in a way that made him appear almost feline in nature, all easy grace and eyes that wandered but with confidence and a sort of regality. which is also sort of feline – it’s a look like he is ruler of all he surveys, and he knows this, but at the moment, it’s too much of an inconvenience to act on it.
‘ you’re staring, cody. ‘
‘ hm? simply playing the part, ben. ‘
( it’s the name they’ve gone with for several of these, which has led to two separate occasions of a very tired cody calling kenobi ‘beneral’, which has sent commander tano into fits of glee both times. cody doesn’t get paid enough for this damn job. )
there’s a smile rolling across kenobi’s face in the same lazy way that storm clouds breach the horizon; at once a subtle progression and just suddenly there.
( and, like an oncoming storm, it usually meant some kind of trouble was coming with it, the pessimistic side of cody tacked on. a deeper part of cody, one he was currently vehemently trying to ignore, tacked on that also like an oncoming storm, cody found it beautiful. )
kenobi leans forwards, acting as if he were about to stroke his beard and then frowning, resting his chin on his hand and propping his elbow on the table. as always, he’s magnetizing to cody, who leans back in a little bit without even really noticing it.
‘ remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it . ‘
he’s saying it with that sophisticated accent; a little bit of a drawl and rounded-out vowels, and he’s saying it with an uplift to his mouth; he’s teasing. cody thinks it’s secondhand nature for the man to flirt; he does it without noticing he’s doing it, easy as talking.
for once, though, it’s his turn to surprise his general.
( he can tell it’s a surprise because he’s suddenly so very close to kenobi’s eyes, and sees every minute detail of them widening, the dark flecks that seemed to fade in and out with the light and the steel in them. )
( he can tell it’s a surprise because he feels the sharp intake of kenobi’s breath as their mouths press together, and for a moment he feels like laughing, because it seems almost like obi-wan is taking the air from his lungs. there’s irony in there, somewhere. )
it was a surprise; teasing and cody’s push back, their back-and-forth dynamic.
it should end with cody pulling back and the both of them laughing, resuming the conversation about the plans they’re here to find.
it should end with some propriety; he is a general and he is a commander and they are halves of a whole but not so like this; he is a jedi and he is a clone and they are different levels, he is not allowed attachments and he is not a person, and –
it should end there.
( it doesn’t. )
How about Cody first kiss for a prompt? The other personn is up to you!
Have this sudden rare pair I didn’t even know I needed until today.
***
Quinlan Vos raised his eyebrows as Cody pulled off his helmet, and looked the clone up and down in obvious, ecstatic appreciation.
“Looking good, Commander,” Vos murmured, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Cody’s shoulders and pull him close. “You make me wish I’d decided to have a clone battalion watching my back.”
Cody allowed his gaze to drift down Vos’s backside as his hand did the same, squeezing the soft flesh beneath the thin Jedi leggings. “It is a nice back.”
Vos pressed his mouth against Cody’s neck, snickering. “Does Kenobi rub his sarcasm off on everyone he interacts with for extended periods of time, or am I just imagining things?”
Cody didn’t have to think about that for very long. “It’s my own personal brand of sarcasm,” he said, using his free hand to play with Vos’s dreads. “Completely self-created.”
Vos pulled back and gave Cody a bright smile that made the clone feel like his knees could buckle and all his bones could turn to jelly. It really wasn’t fair for a Jedi to be this damn roguishly handsome. General Kenobi should have warned him before setting him up on a mission with the man.
“Obi-Wan must love that,” he said.
“General Kenobi loves me,” Cody responded. “As he should. I’m damn loveable, sir.”
Vos hmmed at that, and before either of them could get in another word, he tilted his head forward and pressed his lips to Cody’s.
Cody’s immediate reaction was surprise, followed by bliss, followed by the sudden, poignant realization that *this* is what the lips of another being feels like, this is what Quinlan Vos tastes like. Soft skin and warm breath and the faint taste of mint and fruit. Cody found himself kissing back, and he hoped he was doing it right. Vos’s eyes fluttered and he moaned softly, darting his tongue out along Cody’s lip. That had to mean he was doing something right, right? When Vos bit lightly into Cody’s bottom lip and sucked the skin between his teeth, Cody was *definitely* sure that even if he was doing all of this completely wrong, Vos would pick up the slack, and, even luckier for them both, Cody was a fast learner.
Wondering if General Kenobi had planned for this to happen slipped slowly out of Cody’s mind and was lost. He didn’t doubt it, though.
#11 from the recent kiss prompts for quiobi please? Lots of love!
#11 from This Prompt List.
Here’s some fluff for an early-ish Sunday morning. And for the Jinnobi Challenge.
__________________________________
Something New
Standing near the window of the transport, Obi-Wan could see
the Jedi Temple rising from the glowing streets of Coruscant. The last rays of
sunlight set the walls alight, the stones glowing as if on fire.He wondered what Qui-Gon was doing. How Anakin was
adjusting.There had been letters and holocalls. Few and far between.
They had stayed away from the topic of Naboo, Qui-Gon’s near death, the
impressive row they had upon their return to Coruscant….They had delivered
Anakin to the crèche with his year mates and neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan were
scheduled for anything for the next several days. Obi-Wan used the downtime to
get started clearing his things from the rooms he shared with his master.
Qui-Gon had wondered in, made an offhand comment about missing Obi-Wan, which
shattered the tense truce that had kept them civil since his master woke up in
the med center on Naboo. Obi-Wan, not proudly, took shots at everything from
Bandomeer to Qui-Gon offloading him in front of the Council.Did you ever want me
at all?It was the last thing he said. Flushed and embarrassed by
his lack of self-control, he’d grabbed his belongings and fled, without waiting
for an answer, unable to look at Qui-Gon’s face. He didn’t want to see the
disappointment or the contempt.He wasn’t a month into his mission when the letter arrived.
I
always wanted you.As
an Initiate, you were bright and dedicated. You shone with the Force. It very
nearly hurt to look at you, knowing I could not be the master you deserved. No,
I thought, better to send you to Bandomeer than taint you, than risk that
passion of yours becoming a twisted thing in my possession.It
was never you, Obi-Wan.Let
me say that again: it was never you.The
mistakes were mine, then and now. It seems I don’t learn lessons quickly or
easily, as you’ve often surmised.I
wanted you.And
I want you.I
am sorry, Obi-Wan.It takes days for Obi-Wan to decide what to write. In the
end, it was merely two words.I accept.
Accept the apologies, the regret, and the hurts. He accepted
all of it. The Jedi Way. To accept and let go. To make room for something new.Maybe something more by the turn their letters had taken.
He felt Qui-Gon before he saw him, even though he stood
nearly a head above most of the crowd moving through the docks and with the
hood of his robe pulled up, he was unmistakable. The bond that had not been severed
upon Obi-Wan’s Knighting lay bare to Obi-Wan. The things he had felt, soft and
muted with distance while he was off planet, surged like the sea. Warmth and
affection, regret and guilt, fascination, attraction.His long stride never broke as he reached Qui-Gon, took his
arm, steered him toward a small alcove away from prying eyes and kissed him.He felt Qui-Gon’s breath catch, felt his master’s fingers
graze his cheek, the soft beard he’d been growing out, felt the kiss returned
even as Qui-Gon dropped his hand to Obi-Wan’s shoulder and pulled away.“I’m sorry. Are you sure you—“
Obi-Wan swallowed the rest of the words as he caught his
master’s mouth again.Give me this, he
thought. I need this moment. Before we do
what we always do and stumble headlong into a verbal briar thicket.He felt Qui-Gon soften. Warmth infused their bond as his
master’s arms came around him.Eventually, Obi-Wan broke the kiss, leaned his forehead
against Qui-Gon’s chin and breathed out shakily. All moments pass.“Are you ready?” Qui-Gon murmured the words against his forehead.
Obi-Wan gave a short nod. “Let’s go.”
He shouldered his bag as Qui-Gon led the way through the
crowd, his hand flat on the middle of Obi-Wan’s back, hot, even through the
layers of robe and tunics, and his eyes catching Obi-Wan’s gaze now and then,
lit up by his smile, slight and crooked.Yes. It was time for something new.
wrennette 