⟢ as the clone war rages on, anakin skywalker tries to find a way to ease the burden of stress he’s under. turning to food as the answer, he gains many things, some not expected at all… ⟢
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hi! we’re Ani (@stellargravityy) and Hal (@thechsnone), the artist and author behind this series! I (Ani) do all the art behind it, and Hal, my girlfriend, does the accompanying snippets! you can find our other nsfw socials linked below!
Ani: twitter ⋆˖⁺ deviantart
Hal: twitter
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disclaimer: as the two of us are crazy multishippers, this series will reflect that. anakin is getting pimped out to anybody. (ships will be tagged accordingly!)
You guys love my clone art so here’s something I did a little while back…I think after all his time around Anakin, Rex would become kinda “fat strong”. He needs those muscles to help his General around, but all those supply runs and paid for meals…well, I mean, he didn’t wanna be RUDE.
It’s be cool to see some art of this AU’s Anakin in his fighting pose, holding his lightsaber. Bonus points if he’s shirtless lol.
He's doing his best (fighting for his life?)...and he's probably only thinking about food.
Honestly, this ask prompted me to consider how I characterize Anakin, I feel like I'm mostly pulling from his personality in Clone Wars...he'd be embarrassed, he'd be awkward, he'd be flustered. I genuinely struggle so hard at this stage in me and Hal's narrative to FATHOM how Anakin in ROTS would react to being that big. I think it's because so much of Anakin's personality in the movies is based on this confidence he can fake (I'm not falling for the facade that is meant to be dismantled by me, the viewer), and I just don't know how he could fake that same confidence being like...twice the size he was before. His insecurity is really important to his character/the descent to Vader (AU or otherwise), but we'll get there hehe <3
BONUS:
I went a lil overboard on this one, thank you for the brilliant idea, I had a blast lmaooo. (You'll get proper shirtless Anakin eventually, trust)
Hello, Ani here! Thank you all for the love on our series so far-- it's so insane to think that Hal and I started this project 15ish days ago and this blog already has 30+ followers and over 100 reblogs, WOW!! I'm so grateful for all of you and I hope you're just as excited for the future of this project as I am. Onto the real news...
This post actually marks the conclusion of Part One of 'The Chosen One is Kind of a Big Deal'. Not to worry, the rest of the story is already in production and I have a lot of art queued to post in the meantime. If you're starved for more content, please consider submitting to my ask box! It's open for art requests, questions about the AU and anything else you wanna dump there. If this series gets enough traction, Hal and I hope to organize it all as one published fic over on Ao3 (as well as maybe making myself a straw.page?) For now, keep an eye on our master post, as a lot is going to change in the next week or so.
Thank you all for the support so far, I'm truly overwhelmed and I appreciate every one of you sooo much!
VI. Anakin's Apartment; Enter Rex | OVERALL CONTENT 18+/HEED TAGS! | SCROLL FOR ANNOUNCEMENT!!
“Rex, I’m telling you, give it a week, this robe won’t fit.”
Anakin had been trying on his different clothes (read: numerous articles of the same clothes with slight variations; Jetti attire) for the past hour, throwing what didn’t fit in various directions around the room. At the point they were at, one could be easily convinced a severe weather pattern had blown through Anakin’s bedroom, what with all of the robes and tunics and pants strewn about.
“But it fits now, don’t it?” Rex looked down (well, up) at him from his position upside down in the wide chair in the corner of the room.
“That’s not the point,” Anakin whined, throwing another tunic behind him with a groan. It hit Rex squarely in the face.
“It fits now, but I just keep—” he whipped around to face Rex, grabbing his stomach for emphasis and shook it in his direction. “I’ll just outgrow it!”
Anakin sat on the edge of his bed with a huff, the mattress shaking with the reverb of the new load suddenly upon it. He buried his head in his hands.
Rex flipped into an upright position, a move that had previously been a breeze for him, but now came with the added difficulties of his own newfound weight. He wasn’t sure if he should sit next to the General, maybe offer a comforting hand on his back…Rex wasn’t exactly trained in emotional sensitivity. Before he could decide on the next move to make, Anakin spoke again, voice wet and muffled by his hands.
“I mean, how does something like this even happen, Rex?”
Rex paused. How did it happen indeed…
⟢
Rex remembered the first time it happened. It was the middle of the night, sometime after Fives—He couldn’t remember how long it had been. Those days seemed to blur together. He’d woken up to the familiar beep of his commlink alerting him of a call from General Skywalker. He groggily rose to his elbows, clicking the accept button on the comm.
“General?”
“Rex! Hey!” that was the cheeriest he’d heard him in a while. Odd.
“Is everything alright, sir?”
“Huh? It’s fine, Rex! I just—well, I found this place…it sells these little pastries. I found them a while ago, and the lady who runs it really likes me. It’s only a short trip, and I was wondering—I mean only if you wanted to…” he was rambling, not finishing his sentences, and talking nearly a mile a minute.
“A pastry shop, sir?” Rex rubbed his eyes in an attempt to remove the remnants of sleep from them. He still only felt half awake, unsure if this was actually happening or not.
“Um. Yeah! Do you wanna go?”
Rex was silent.
“Rex?”
“Respectfully, it’s the middle of the night, sir.”
A pause.
“Oh, right! Well, it’s not where her shop is, it’ll be early morning for them…she always makes fresh batches in the morning.”
His General wanted Rex to get up from his (admittedly horribly uncomfortable) bunk and go with him in the middle of the night to a pastry shop because…they’d get fresh baked goods? And the shopkeeper apparently…liked him?
“…I’m paying.”
Well, in that case…
“I’ll be over in five, sir.”
⟢
He noticed when General Skywalker’s clothes had started to get tighter. He’d just so happened to be growing his hair out at the same time, likely to distract from any other appearance changes that were occurring. Rex didn’t comment on it, what would the point be? He didn’t care, wasn’t trying to deter him from whatever he wanted to do with his spare time and body…
Plus, it all came with really, really good food.
⟢
The General was now far too heavy for this to be a feasible task anymore. Rex braced against the wall at his back for any kind of support it would offer him. He gritted his teeth, scrambling at the stone for purchase and a grip, squaring his shoulders as much as he could to support the man sitting on them.
Anakin moved around, what felt like shifting his weight from side to side, nearly knocking Rex off balance.
“Yeah, I dunno, Rex…” the General’s voice came from above him. “I’m not seeing anything.”
His entire upper body was going numb. He couldn’t hold on for much longer.
Oh my god.
⟢
“You’ve got to try the burgers, Rex, they’re so good.”
⟢
“C’mon, one more won’t hurt, right?”
⟢
“General, I think you’ve got somethin’…” Rex whispered, gesturing to the front of Anakin’s robes. He looked down and let out a small exclamation. He immediately wiped away the crumbs there, cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of pink.
“Thanks, Captain,” Anakin nodded, double checking that all of the crumbs were gone before turning back to Admiral Yularen and assuming his “intent listening” face.
Rex shook his head, refocusing back on the conversation at hand. Anakin was looking at him now, big eyes puzzled and slightly wet. Rex sighed. He shrugged. He shook his head.
well id love to see Anakin fat, happy, and pregnant, but I worry I'm jumping the gun on your comic lmao
First of all, you’re my first proper ask submission, so I’ve gotta grant the 👑, you’ve been immortalized in fat Anakin art history or something.
Second off (and far more importantly), you’re definitely not jumping the gun at all, haha!! I love suggestions/requests because it really helps me put myself in the minds of these characters who otherwise may not end up in these situations (which in turn helps us write them better!) AND they’re GREAT to do as warm ups before I draw for our comic!!
Me and Hal have the entire plot of our AU outlined already and the only spoiler I’ll give is that, unfortunately, Anakin will not be happy 😭 Any opportunity to draw him as such (and also pregnant?? hello??) is very important for my personal morale. 😂 Of course I have a lot of silly/non canon drawings planned (some already finished that I’m just waiting to post) because they’re just so entertaining to make! And rest assured, I have a lot of suggestive ideas for drawings that won’t make the final cut of the narrative too. ;)
Ngl, Anakin being the pregnant one is not something I would’ve thought of. By who, I will commit to y’all’s imagination. He’s definitely where he wants to be, but the baby has done nothing for his self control when it comes to dinnertime ;) I wonder if they’d be a big eater like their mama? Pretty sure the entire Jedi Council knows pregnancy is NOT what’s creating Anakin’s appetite problem. Would making a choice like that for himself save him from becoming Vader?
V. Temple Archives; Awkward Conversations | OVERALL CONTENT 18+/HEED TAGS!
Obi-Wan had been doing nothing but staring for the past hour. Well, he was doing other things alongside staring, but if you added up the time Obi-Wan spent staring versus the time that he actually spent searching for the files they were tasked with finding, there would be a great disparity between the numbers.
He’d never seen Obi-Wan this speechless. Obi-Wan knew how much he hated being looked at, observed, scrutinized in this way. He knew, which meant it had to be intentional. Anakin’s worst fears were true. Obi-Wan was disappointed in him, he thought he was disgusting, and this was surely going to be their last mission together because he would request the Council never pair him with such a wash-up ever again.
Anakin turned miserably back to the stack of holofiles he was sorting through.
⟢
Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure what to think. Anakin’s entire new look had come as such a shock, and he didn’t even understand why it had happened in the first place. Anakin had exhibited a lack of self-control in other aspects of his life, but he’d never appeared to have a problem with food. Was he sick? Obi-Wan had heard of certain sicknesses causing the patient to gain large amounts of weight in a short time. What if Anakin was dying? Was he too afraid to tell him? Was that why the Council didn’t offer him any information? Was—
Obi-Wan’s thoughts were interrupted by Anakin’s stomach growling, quite loudly.
“Your stomach growled,” Obi-Wan turned to his former Padawan, whose head was ducked. His face was obscured by his long hair, but Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of a deep red staining his cheeks.
“I know,” Anakin bit out through clenched teeth.
“Are you hungry?”
“Of course I am, Master. Why else would my stomach growl?”
At that, Anakin turned to him and Obi-Wan saw his full expression. Oh, he’d seen that one before. Anakin was challenging him. His wide blue eyes were fiery, glossy with the sheen of tears he was holding back, his chin was jutted forward. He was accusing Obi-Wan of something. Whatever it was, he was quite at a loss to recognize and assuage the worries Anakin so clearly had.
“Well, I’m sure no one would mind if we paused our duties to grab a bite to eat. Would you like that?”
⟢
Would he like that? What kind of question was that? What kind of cruel tease? Why wouldn’t Obi-Wan just come out and say what he was thinking. No one else had, only shot him disappointed or pitying looks. But he’d always relied on Obi-Wan’s naked honesty above all else. At least with him. Obi-Wan was a man to value diplomacy and understand the value of a white lie for the good of progress or the greater whole. But never with Anakin. With Anakin he was honest to a fault. At times it felt like he was constantly picking out every mistake of his and putting it on full display. This honesty was especially prevalent in Anakin’s Padawan days. Why in the galaxy would a situation like this be the only one where Obi-Wan hid his true feelings from Anakin?
Despite his anger and his anxiety…he was truly hungry. And a trip to the canteen would likely revive his spirits at least a bit.
He hesitated and glanced up at Obi-Wan through the curtain of his bangs. Begrudgingly, he sighed.
“I would, Master.”
Obi-Wan smiled, that thin, unreadable quirk of the lips he’d taken up as of late, and shoved his chair away from the table. That was that.
⟢
Obi-Wan had taken Anakin’s to Dex’s before, but it was most frequently during Anakin’s Padawan years, meaning he was likely in a bad mood any time they were at the diner, and therefore Anakin did not get a true and honest sampling of the menu due to being “not hungry, Master.”
Anakin, apparently, was not in a bad mood. Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin continued to add to his order, the credits ticking up and up in his mind.
“…and one Namana cream pie,” Anakin smiled, closing his menu and handing it to the service droid taking their order. “Thank you!”
The service droid looked quite frazzled, as though they were seconds away from their internal processors overloading. There was quite a bit of information to take down from that order; Obi-Wan smiled sympathetically when they turned to him.
“And for you, sir?” even their voice-box sounded distressed.
“Just a bowl of Ranat’s cheese soup, please. A-and a cup of caf,” Obi-Wan handed the droid his own menu. “Thank you, my dear.”
As the droid shuffled back into the kitchen, Obi-Wan had visions of reaching for his pocketbook and it running away, screaming, into the distance and jumping from the nearest tall height, never to be seen again. He shook his head to clear the image and focused back on the man in front of him.
Well, at least he looked happier than before.
⟢
This was so much better than the canteen. Anakin was truly grateful to Obi-Wan for taking him to Dex’s, and was quite eager to sample what his Master’s friend kept on the menu. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, if he wasn’t counting the pastry from earlier that he had for breakfast (which he wasn’t. It was just one small pastry, that hardly counted as a meal, and had really done nothing to quell his ever-growing appetite).
In the time between the service droid taking their orders and said orders arriving, however, Anakin’s anxiety rocketed skyward. Oh god, why did I do that? I should’ve just gotten something small…he felt his palms begin to sweat and tucked his hands into his sleeves, running the balled fists along his pants.
But you’d still be hungry after something small, and wouldn’t that be more embarrassing? For Obi-Wan to be full and your stomach still growls? a small, unkind voice within him countered.
Maybe that was true. Would he rather suffer the shame of eating his fill under his Master’s scrutinizing gaze, or face the potential embarrassment of not satiating his hunger and whatever obvious tells accompanied that.
And after all, Obi-Wan had made it clear he was paying. Who was Anakin to pass on an offer like that?
Anakin was drawn from his worry by the beautiful scent of his food wafting towards him as the service droid arrived with his order. Honestly, he was too hungry to care what Obi-Wan thought.
⟢
Obi-Wan’s aching pocketbook suddenly was the furthest thing from his mind as Anakin’s food was set in front of him and he began ravenously devouring it. He didn’t quite understand how someone could put it away like that. Perhaps Anakin was sick; he hadn’t entirely ruled out the idea of a parasite. However, he’d never seen someone gain weight when they had a parasitic infection…
In the time it took Obi-Wan to muse on these ideas, Anakin finished two plates. The two sat in silence, the only sound the tink tink tink of their utensils on the dishware and the occasional crunch of food.
They had never struggled to make conversation. In fact, it was quite often the opposite. Obi-Wan had to tell Anakin to not speak to him during important meetings, to stop making little jokes in an effort to get him to crack in front of the Council, to be quiet when they were supposed to be hiding or incognito…
He never had to goad his friend into speaking, not since his sullen Padawan days were over. Of it all, Anakin’s hesitance and the worry Obi-Wan sensed through their (oddly quiet) Force bond was the strangest bit. It was atypical and out of character, even if this sudden change of appearance was atypical as well.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat.
“Well, you’ve sampled the menu,” Obi-Wan smiled when Anakin looked up and met his eyes. “What was your…favorite dish?”
Anakin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and Obi-Wan fought a cringe. (Really, he’d trained him better than that. So uncivilized.)
“O-oh, well. I’ve never had Garto egg salad, a-and I wanted to try…it was really good, better than I expected,” Anakin rambled. “But that had to be the best Nerfburger I’ve ever had, oof.” He leaned back in the booth as much as he could, adjusting his belly over his belt, hefting the mass up. Some of it spilled over and rested on the table. He let out a huge sigh of what could only be relief. It was then that Obi-Wan noticed a little of Anakin’s smug sparkle had returned to his eyes, partnered with a bit of a smirk as he stretched out, rubbing a hand along his belly to relieve the newfound pressure there. A small bump protruded over his belt where his large meal settled into his stomach.
Obi-Wan swallowed, hard. He had no idea why he felt the telltale warmth of a blush creeping up his neck, why he fought to tear his eyes away from Anakin, why he felt the need to cross one leg tightly over the other. What in the world was he feeling?
The service droid came back with the check. Oh, well. Obi-Wan had to rub together enough credits to cover his former Padawan’s incredible appetite. No time to think about whatever the heat in his chest was. He’d have to unpack that at a much, much later date.
IV. Jedi Temple; Discovery | OVERALL CONTENT 18+/HEED TAGS!
“Skywalker will continue to avoid Kenobi until the war necessitates them to work together again,” Mace Windu sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Or until the sun explodes.”
“Let’s hope it does not come to that,” Master Plo Koon steepled his fingers together.
“As much as I hate to admit it, we need the two of them together,” Mace continued. The two of them were quite the team; the leaders of the most successful battalions in the entire army, made more successful when their forces were combined. Even in Anakin’s current…state, Mace grimaced at the thought, we can’t risk losing them.
He looked around at the faces of the other Council members, some nodding in agreement, others looking away in contemplation, still others with expressions that could only read as discomfort. After the silence began to linger and the true meaning and severity of Mace’s words sunk in, Ki Adi Mundi spoke up.
“What do you suggest we do?”
⟢
When Anakin got the call that there was an immediate meeting of the Council happening that he absolutely had to attend, his first thought was if Obi-Wan was going to be there too.
Of course he’s going to be there, Anakin chastised himself. He’s a member of the Council.
Unless this was some sort of staged intervention where they told Anakin what an awful job he was doing and that he needed to get back on course immediately or they were kicking him out of the Order…in that case Obi-Wan might not be there. Although he would have bigger things to deal with if that were true.
Rex had been kind enough to get larger robes for him at the Temple the day before so he actually had a set he could wear out. He tied the strings on his outer shirt and tried to quell his shaking hands. Obi-Wan had to find out sooner or later. Avoiding him was not a truly realistic or sustainable practice, was it?
Anakin could take the side-glances from the Jedi Masters, the whispers as he passed in the halls, the wide eyes from the younglings, even the constant inquiries on his mental state. Even the disappointment. The disgust. The secondhand embarrassment.
He just wasn’t sure how he’d keep going if he ever saw those feelings reflected in Obi-Wan’s face.
⟢
“Urgent?”
“Yes, sir. They said it’s right away,” Cody’s voice crackled over the comlink.
An urgent meeting of the Council was not entirely out of the ordinary, especially given the times they were in. Perhaps there’s news from the front lines, Obi-Wan wondered.
As he was getting ready as quickly as he could, clipping his lightsaber to his belt and making sure his robes were straight and unwrinkled, the realization hit. Anakin would be there. Well, more than likely. He supposed if Anakin was not there, that would be confirmation that something was well and truly very wrong. He decided to believe the best. Anakin would be there and everything would be alright and he could finally get to the bottom of why his former Padawan had decided to avoid him.
Admittedly, Obi-Wan was quite excited to see him again.
⟢
“Is…is that—?”
It couldn’t be. The man across the room looked nothing—well, that wasn’t true. Actually he looked quite a lot like Anakin, he was just…
Obi-Wan stared. The man—Anakin—stood on the other side of the Council chambers chatting casually with Captain Rex. He had a pastry in his hand and was absentmindedly chewing as he spoke. Obi-Wan could see some of the powder from it dusted across the front of his robes. His hair looked greasy and unkempt, like he hadn’t washed it in days and decided instead to throw it into an updo. Obi-Wan noticed the deep, dark circles casting shadows under his eyes from all the way across the room. He was leaning on the back of one of the chairs for what appeared to be support, as he was—well…
Anakin was nearly 100 pounds heavier than the last time Obi-Wan had seen him. His stomach protruded from his robes and his empty hand rested on top of it. His legs were thick and stocky, as well as his arms. His face had filled out, round cheeks emphasized even more as they were filled with food. Obi-Wan heard his breathing, short and rapid intakes of air, accompanied by a wheezing quality that could only be caused by the weight’s impact on his frame.
He had no idea when or how this could have happened. He knew, of course, that this was the reason behind Anakin’s avoidance. Above all else, he knew Anakin. And he knew that Anakin cared deeply about what others thought of him, overthinking the slightest word, glance, tonal shift. It was likely much easier to sequester himself away from prying eyes.
Obi-Wan still could not believe that such a drastic change had occurred in the short months he was away. The man that he left and the man standing before him appeared so wholly different. But why—
“Anakin?” he whispered, total shock coloring his voice.
Anakin turned and immediately his eyes widened, and Obi-Wan, for the first time in a long time, felt their Force bond reawaken. Except instead of its normal close warmth, he felt the clear and creeping cold of dread.
II. Anakin’s Apartment; Cody’s Realization | OVERALL CONTENT 18+/HEED TAGS!
“Hey, vod!” Rex’s cheery voice came through on Cody’s comlink.
“Hngh,” he groaned back.
Cody was lying down on the bed in his quarters, face smushed into the singular pillow, still in his full armor. He, the General, and the rest of the 212th had just returned planetside after an extended campaign in the Outer Rim. This was Cody’s first day off in months, and truly, all he wished to do was lie here until he became one with the mattress or the universe exploded, whichever happened first.
“C’mon, Kote! I haven’t seen ya in ages! Don’t you want to see me?”
Cody didn’t have to look to know that Rex had turned on his puppy dog eyes.
“No,” he finally spoke, mumbling into the pillow.
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Rex oddly didn’t sound disappointed. Before Cody had the chance to investigate the lack of mood switch, Rex interrupted him. “‘Cause I’m already here.”
And with that, Rex hung up. Then the banging on the door started.
Cody buried his face further into his pillow and let out a truly exasperated growl.
Cody had not been sleeping well lately. Beyond the obvious issues of cramped starfighter quarters, the thin bunk mattresses, and the already light sleep that was necessary when in constant threat of attack, Cody had been plagued with what could only be called…visions. He’d call them dreams, but to his understanding, clones didn’t dream. They were so vivid, and they were only centered around one thing.
⟢
Then…
It started when Rex called him one day mid-deployment. Beyond their necessary calls for cross-battalion communication, Rex and Cody had tried to keep a weekly personal call in their schedules, just to catch up and ensure each other was doing alright. This call was like any other. News on Cody’s end was mundane; their starfighter and the others with them were in a stalemate in dead space. No movement for days. Rex filled him in about this and that, what the Council was doing lately, what he’d last heard from Fox, and, most interestingly, the routine he and General Skywalker had fallen into.
“I dunno if there’s a goal here, but I think we’re trying every bakery in Coruscant. It’s always the middle of the night when he calls me, vod. And I really got nothing better to do,” Rex trailed off, scratching his head. “Plus, he always buys. And the food is really good.”
Cody hummed in curiosity as Rex chattered, typing another report on his datapad.
“We’ve been on this for about a month or so.” Rex paused to think. “Maybe two. Kinda lost track a few weeks ago.” He laughed to himself before continuing. “If you were the one here, you’d have some kinda itemized list ranking the alayi by texture or some shit.”
Cody rolled his eyes and laughed along.
“Oh, is that so?” he smiled.
“That’s so, vod,” Rex grinned back, before his head whipped around as someone off screen entered his vicinity. “Oh, hey, General! Come say hey to Cody!”
Soon enough, General Skywalker came on screen and…and good god. That was certainly different.
Anakin was about twice the size as he was when Cody last saw him. All of his previous hard edges had been replaced by soft lines and even softer rolls. Even the large Jedi regulation robes he wore seemed tight as they stretched across his stomach. His hair was longer, framing and falling into his face as he tucked himself into frame to offer Cody a shy wave.
“Uh, hey Commander! Good to see you,” he smiled.
Cody’s mouth was dry. Rex hadn’t mentioned anything about this. But…given the frequency in which their “supply runs” happened and how long they’d been going on, Cody supposed it did make sense…
“Cody? You alright?” General Skywalker’s voice broke through his spiral.
“Y-Yes, sir! Fine, just fine! Good to see you too, sir,” he coughed out the words.
Anakin kept smiling, but Cody noticed it got a little strained at the edges after he spoke.
“Well, anyway, I’ll leave you two to it!” he tried to make his voice sound cheery, not quite succeeding. “Stay safe out there, Cody.”
Cody nodded firmly, voice still catching in his throat.
“Yes, sir. I will, sir.”
And with that, the General exited the holo-transmission. Rex waited a beat, presumably for Anakin to leave the room, and promptly laid into Cody.
“What the hell was that, mate? You hardly said two words to him!”
“What’re you talking about, Rex? It was nothing. I’m just tired,” Cody snapped. “Anyway, I gotta go. These reports aren’t going to fill themselves out. Ret’, vod,” and before his brother could protest, Cody swiftly ended the holo.
The room was totally quiet.
Slowly, as though afraid of what he’d find, Cody glanced down to his lap, and immediately his fears were confirmed. There, standing proudly, was the evidence of what seeing General Skywalker 150 pounds heavier had done to him.
He prayed to whatever god was out there that Rex hadn’t seen.
⟢
Now…
For whatever reason, Rex decided that dragging him all over creation was the perfect idea for their first day reunited. He’d compiled what he described as “the best of the best” of the bakeries he and General Skywalker had visited that Cody simply had to try.
“Now, the quinberry cake here is really good, if you’re going for the most popular. But the Corellia chews are the General’s favorite,” Rex told him sagely, ordering four Corellia chews from the cart tender.
When the attendant turned to him, Cody stuttered out. “Uh, just—yeah, one of those. Thanks.”
Rex looked at him expectantly as they were handed the pastries. Cody sighed and tossed more than enough credits to the attendant.
“Look, Rex, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not all that hungry, and I really am ti—"
“Nah, mate, just try ‘em, I’m telling you.”
Rolling his eyes, Cody took a bite. Maybe, just maybe, his brother and General Skywalker were onto something.
Perhaps taking pity on him, Rex decided it was alright that they headed back after this. He, of course, cited “errands to run” as opposed to letting Cody rest. Along their way, he ate his two chews, stashing the other two in their original box and tucking it safely into his belt pouch.
“Hey, can we swing by my place real quick? I forgot something.”
Cody was a bit confused.
“But my quarters are closer than yours. Can’t I just—”
“Nah, vod, I know a shortcut!” Those words, accompanied by a twinkle in his eye, especially coming from Rex were a very bad thing.
Cody was far, far too tired to argue.
“Lead the way.”
⟢
After rifling around his room for about fifteen minutes as Cody strategized on how to get as comfortable as possible on a couch that could only be made from durasteel while in his full armor, Rex made a triumphant noise and came rushing out.
“Got it! Let’s go!”
Cody was now entirely sure that they weren’t headed back to his apartment any time soon.
⟢
When they arrived in front of General Skywalker’s quarters, and the realization of what and who exactly was behind that door (as well as a sickening remembrance of what had happened the last time he saw who was behind that door) hit, it was already too late for Cody to make a break for it.
Rex knocked cheerily, calling out to Anakin while trying to look in the peephole.
“Door’s open!” he heard the General call from the other side.
With that, Rex barged in, gleefully procuring whatever he’d stashed in another one of his pouches, and yelled across the apartment:
“Generaaaal! I found your chafe stick!” this call was accompanied by proudly waving said stick in the air so that Anakin wouldn’t miss it.
Anakin, who was milling about in the kitchen, turned around, and Cody saw that his face was rapidly deepening into ten different shades of red.
This was the first time Cody had truly seen him since all of the…changes had occurred. The holotransmission hadn’t done him justice in the slightest. The man’s sheer mass was almost overwhelming when standing next to him. It wasn’t like it had been easy to forget how tall General Skywalker was before, but now he stood not only incredibly tall, but incredibly large as well. He was in his casual robes, only a soft linen tunic and darker linen pants. There was no belt in sight to restrict his belly, which hung over his waistband, straining against the thin fabric of his shirt. His chest bulged in the tunic as well, creating a beautiful set of curves as it transitioned into his belly, then into his now-wide hips. His face was rounder now, too, Cody noticed. Where previously near-gaunt cheekbones lay now round, soft, almost innocent cheeks took their place. His hair was much longer than before, pulled into a messy half-up half-down situation, the dark waves falling onto his big shoulders.
Taking in the entire picture was intoxicating, but Cody found his eyes continually falling back to Anakin’s belly. It looked so soft. Absently, Cody wondered what it would feel like under his hands, if he could knead it, if it was as plush as it looked, how the General would react—
And it was at that moment that Cody felt the telltale rush of blood downwards and winced as his armor begin to get uncomfortably tight. As subtly but as quickly as he could, Cody removed his helmet and placed it firmly in front of his crotch. He offered General Skywalker a nervous smile and then quickly looked away. Oh god.
