#torn between Obi-Wan and Anakin

[chaoticgarbageblog]

*sighs*

I guess Anakin Skywalker has truly awaken something in me, at last.

[tennessoui]

I don’t even need to say it do I……

[stealingpotatoes]

Honestly Mace would have loved Luke and Leia with his whole heart.

yes!!! honestly he's like a grandparent (in the dynamic way, not age way) bc he was harsh on anakin but you KNOW he's much more caring for the twins, like how a grandparent is strict on their kid but gives their grandkid literally whatever. and anakin's like where was this for me

[skyguytoast]

REQUEST: ANAKIN X PALPATINE’S DAUGHTER!READER

SYNOPSIS: Anakin discovers that his sweet girlfriend is Palpatine's daughter and the betrayal blinds him.

WARNING:  a little angst but then it's just fluff

WORDS:  2.4k

A/N: hiiiii, big thanks to @andres-galans-wife for the amazing idea — I loved writing this one and I hope it captures the vibe you were going for! as always, my inbox is open for requests, don’t be shy 🥺✨ also… I was thinking about the ROTS (as I do like... constantly) and ughhh anakin is just pure tragedy wrapped in pretty boy rage and i’ll never be normal about it 😭 hope you enjoy reading — comments & reblogs mean the world to me 🫶💫 kisses & happy scrolling 💋 Dividers by @cafekitsune

If it hadn’t already been enough — Obi-Wan, his master, his brother — had asked him to spy on the Chancellor. Not in those exact words, of course. Obi-Wan was too measured for that, too careful. But the request was clear enough: report back, tell us what he says, what he’s doing. Keep your eyes open.

It had shaken something inside him. The Jedi, with all their codes and their high-minded ideals, had given him the most vile of tasks: betrayal. They didn’t trust him. Not with the truth. Not with the war. Not with anything. And yet, they expected him to betray the one person who had — for years — treated him as more than a pawn.

And Palpatine… Palpatine had seen it coming. Had warned him. Had whispered the truth. That the Jedi were plotting something. That they feared Anakin's power. That he had never been more than a weapon to them. And then—he asked for the same thing. To be his eyes. His ears. His shield against the very people who claimed to love him.

It was maddening — being pulled in every direction, not knowing who to trust, not knowing where to stand without the ground cracking beneath him. But in the midst of that chaos, there was you.

Sweet. Fierce. Steady.

You were the only thing that didn’t make him feel like he was being torn apart. The Senator with a gentle heart and fire in your voice. The one who stood up for clones, who cared about Jedi, who looked at him like he was more than the sum of what everyone wanted from him.

He had clung to you like a drowning man. And now...

Now he could hardly look at you.

The apartment was quiet. Moonlight spilled across the glossy floor, broken only by the slow, menacing pacing of his boots. He stood near the window, facing away from you, his reflection fragmented by the glass.

“Are you his daughter?”

His voice was ice. No greeting. No softness. Just a razor-sharp question that split the air between you.

You froze. Your breath caught. “Ani—”

“Don’t.” His voice cracked like a whip, cutting that name in two. He turned, slowly, eyes wide and burning — a storm of blue, rimmed with red. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

You stepped toward him, trembling. “I didn’t lie to you. I never meant to keep it from you, I just—”

“You just what?” he snapped, his voice rising. “Just forgot to mention that the man tearing the galaxy apart is your father? That the one person I can’t hardly trust might have sent his own daughter to spy on me?”

You shook your head desperately, the silk of your robe whispering around your knees. “I’m not spying on you. Ani, I love you—”

He let out a laugh — bitter, broken, and laced with something unhinged.

“Love?” His voice cracked. “You think this is love? You think I can believe anything you say now?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to step closer, but he took a step back, as if your touch might burn him.

“You knew what this would do to me. You knew. And you let me fall anyway.”

“I didn’t choose him!” you cried. “I chose you. Every time, I choose you!”

“Liar!” he roared.

You stumbled back, startled by the sheer ferocity in his voice. His hands were clenched into fists, trembling. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. You didn’t recognize him — not the boy who carved you tiny gifts, who curled into your lap on bad nights, who held your hand like it tethered him to the galaxy.

This wasn’t him. This was a man blinded by betrayal.

“Did you tell him about me?” he asked, voice low now, dangerous. “Did you tell him about the dreams? The things I said when I couldn’t sleep? Did you whisper in his ear every time I kissed you and thought I was safe?”

“No,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I never—I never betrayed you.”

But he didn’t seem to hear. Or maybe he didn’t want to.

His shoulders shook with rage, but behind it — beneath it — you saw it. The grief. The heartbreak. The unbearable idea that he might have let his last safe place crumble from under him.

“I would have burned the stars for you,” he whispered, eyes glistening. “And you—you were his daughter all along.”

Silence fell again. Thick. Suffocating.

“I know, I am,” you breathed, your voice trembling, eyes swimming with tears. “But that doesn’t change anything—I’m still the girl you fell in love with.”

Your knees hit the cold floor with a soft thud, silk pooling around you like the ruin of something once beautiful. You didn’t care about dignity, pride, or appearances. If crawling would bring him back to you, you would cross Tatooine’s twin suns on bleeding knees. You reached out, fingers clawing at the edges of his black cloak, clinging to him like the last piece of solid ground before the fall.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, just listen to me.”

Anakin didn’t move. His silhouette towered above you like a shadow cast from a darker version of himself. His jaw was clenched, his eyes wild—burning blue rimmed in betrayal.

“How do you expect me to believe you,” he spat, his voice low, acidic, “when you didn’t trust me first?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat like thorns.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracked now, louder, more jagged. “Why didn’t you tell me you were his daughter? You sat there, every night, letting me talk about him—about the man who played father to me when the Jedi wouldn’t. You knew what he meant to me. You knew, and you said nothing.”

His hand shot out and caught your arm. It wasn’t violent, not yet—but the grip was iron. He stared down at you, his expression twisted not with rage, but devastation. His voice broke.

“Did you laugh at me? Did you lie in bed beside me and laugh at how pathetic I was, opening up to both of you, not realizing how long you’d been circling me like a trap?”

“No!” you cried, grasping at his cloak tighter. “Ani—no, never! He didn’t ask me to spy on you, I swear it! I would’ve refused if he had! I love you—Force, I love you more than anything! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me—ever. I would never hurt you.”

But your words only made it worse.

His voice dropped into something cold. Empty.

“And yet,” he murmured, “it was your delicate hand that twisted the knife in my chest.”

You didn’t have time to react before he shoved you back.

You didn’t register the movement until your back collided with the stained-glass divider between the living room and kitchen. The glass cracked with a sickening, sharp sound as you crumpled to the floor, air knocked from your lungs. A bloom of pain shot through your shoulder and ribs, but worse than that was the look on his face when you looked up.

It wasn’t hatred. It wasn’t rage. It was shock.

Like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he hadn’t realized what he was capable of until it was already done.

You whimpered softly, trying to sit up, the cold of the floor biting through your skin. Blood bloomed along your hairline. “Ani…?”

Anakin’s blue eyes widened, the once-bright fire behind them dimming into a shade of shattered melancholy. The realization hit him like a lightsaber to the gut—he had hurt you. In a blink. In a storm of blind rage and betrayal, he had done the one thing he swore he never would.

He crossed the room in an instant, propelled by panic, the Force bending around him with unnatural speed. He fell to his knees beside you, trembling as he gathered your injured form into his arms. You were so small against him, too still, too fragile. His breath caught as he felt the warmth of your blood seeping through your clothes, onto his hands.

"No, no, no..." he murmured, burying his face in your hair, his arms locking tightly around you. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—please, please forgive me."

You pressed your face into his shoulder, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay, Ani. I’m okay.”

Your fingers, gentle despite the pain, brushed the damp strands of hair from his forehead. The tenderness in your touch made him shudder. “I’m fine,” you whispered again.

“But I—” His voice cracked, thick with anguish. “I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to. I just—”

Tears spilled freely down his cheeks now, warm and relentless. They dripped into the crook of your neck, into your hair, into the palm of your hand as you reached up and cradled his face. His hands shook where they held you. His breath came in broken gasps.

“I could’ve killed you,” he whispered. “If I hadn’t stopped, if I hadn’t seen” He couldn't finish the sentence. The weight of what he had almost done crushed his chest.

He wasn’t a man anymore. He wasn’t a Jedi. He was a monster.

“Ani, look at me,” you murmured.

He didn’t want to—not at first. He didn’t think he deserved to. But your voice called to something deep inside him. Something soft. Something human. Slowly, hesitantly, his eyes met yours.

And in them, he didn’t find anger. Or fear.

He found love.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “It’s not your fault. I should have told you the truth—that my father is the Chancellor. But I was scared. Scared it would change us. Scared I’d lose you. So I lied. I rushed into something and ended up digging the grave of our love.”

He closed his eyes, pained. His hand reached up and gently tucked your hair behind your ear, but paused when his fingers brushed the cut on your forehead. You winced.

His face twisted. “I hate that you didn’t tell me,” he said, his voice no longer furious but broken. “I do feel betrayed. But... I can’t pretend it all meant nothing. I can’t pretend I didn’t feel it—every moment. I don’t want to believe it wasn’t real.”

Your gaze locked with his, and in that shared silence, something passed between you. Something deep.

“Everything we had was real, Ani,” you whispered. “My love for you is real. If you need to use the Force on me, do it. See for yourself. But please—don’t leave. Don’t let what we have fall to ruin.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his lips trembling, your words sinking into his chest like seeds taking root.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to you.

And maybe, you were still his way back to himself.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” Anakin murmured, voice low and aching as his arms slid under your body. “Please… let me apologize properly.”

You didn’t resist when he gathered you into his embrace, lifting you effortlessly off the cold floor. Your cheek rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart thudding beneath layers of black tunic and guilt. He carried you past the shattered remnants of the stained-glass divider, the floor glittering with crimson-smeared shards like the remains of something sacred and broken.

Anakin laid you gently on the couch, moving with the reverence of a man handling something far more fragile than your battered body—your trust. His hands hesitated as they reached for the robe you wore loosely over your silk nightgown, his eyes flicking to yours in silent question.

You gave him a small, encouraging nod.

Carefully, he slipped the robe from your shoulders, checking your arms, your legs, your back for any glass embedded in the skin. His movements were cautious, tender, almost afraid. As if he feared the force of his own touch. As if loving you too hard might break you all over again.

Then he knelt in front of you, the first aid kit at his side, the fabric of his cloak pooling around his knees. He was quiet, almost trembling as he cleaned the cut on your forehead. The antiseptic stung, and your breath hitched, but you didn’t complain—not when you saw the way his hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, as he dabbed at the wound with trembling fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you said softly, offering him the gentlest smile.

When he applied the bacta salve, the cool, slick gel sent a chill through your skin, goosebumps rising instantly. He muttered another apology under his breath, frowning as he smoothed the gel over the cut with such concentration, as though this small act of care could erase what he’d done.

Once he was certain you were properly treated, he leaned back slightly, looking at you like he wasn’t sure he deserved to be this close anymore.

But you reached out first.

Your fingers brushed his cheek, coaxing him forward. And that was all he needed. He scooped you back into his arms, clutching you like a man who had just found the one thing he’d feared he'd lost.

“This time,” he whispered against your temple, “I’m taking you to bed… so I can hold you through it. So I can be there. Like I should’ve been.”

You nodded, tears burning your eyes, and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I want that,” you breathed.

He carried you into the bedroom with the same quiet urgency he always carried into battle, but this war was gentler now. He laid you on the bed like something sacred and sat beside you, tugging off his boots with one hand while the other never left yours.

“I’ll clean everything up later,” he murmured, brushing hair from your face as he climbed in behind you. “The glass, the mess, all of it… but right now, I just want to hold you.”

You shifted closer, resting your head under his chin, his arms wrapping around you, warm and solid. His breath tickled the back of your neck.

“I was scared,” he confessed in a whisper, voice cracking. “Of what I did. Of who I am. But holding you now… I feel like maybe I can be more than that.”

You turned in his arms, looking up at him, your fingers finding his. “You are more. We both are.”

He kissed your forehead softly, lingering, his lips pressed against the healing wound he had given. You felt the apology in that kiss—felt it in the way he curled his body around yours like a shield.

And for the first time since the storm broke, you both allowed yourselves to breathe.

TAGLIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld

[skywalkoverme]

"𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧" 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1

Series Masterlist

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: A republic ship crashes on your planet.

Warnings/contains: dom! male, dom! fem, Enemies to lovers, anakin does not like you, more to come as the series goes on etc, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 1.6k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

You lay on the shore, your body stretched between the waves and the wet sand; Beach curls filled with grains of the shore and flower petals from the tropical trees behind you; The warm breeze blew sand over your damp skin. The light from the center star embraced your skin then was swiftly hidden by what you figured to be a cloud.

Your eyes shut, your fingernails packed with wet sand, you ignored the sound of the waves crashing more fiercely than before; the tide changed when it so pleased.

The sound of an explosion, almost deafening, shattered the once serene environment. You quickly rose to your feet, holding your palms over your ears. “A- AH!” Piercing whines filled your eardrums as you tried to focus on the colossal ship that now rests on the shore.

The men in white filed out of the ship, guns held to their torsos. When the whining of the tinnitus in your ears finally stopped, you stepped back from the shore. Two men who dressed differently stood up top the wrecked ship; exposed pipes, torn metal and the occasional fire scattered across the ship. Crystals and sharp ice from the atmosphere were wedged in the sides of the ship. “Excuse me!” You yelled and slipped on your robes. “Excuse me!” Your screams eventually caught the attention of the younger man, however your rage flared, drawing the eyes of the older one. “Hello?”

The younger man jumped off a post and onto the sand, soon after, he was joined by his master. “I do apologize for this mess.” The older man said softly in an attempt to calm you. You watched as clones went past you and began to set up camp on the shore. “Are you hurt in any way?” The young man squinted at you.

“No, I am fine. W- What is going on?”

“We are Jedi.” He motioned between him and the man beside him. “Those are our troops. Your planet is currently occupied by Separatists, whether they have made themselves known or not. In order to maintain peace, we must interfere.”

You looked over their shoulders as you tied a white and purple robe on your body. “I’m supposed to entrust my planet to men who can’t fly a ship.” The young man looked you up and down, your skin a flesh tone of blue.

“Miss, unfortunately, that isn’t your decision to make.”

“I would say it is.”

“And who might you be?” The younger man spoke up, his arms folded.

You looked him over and reached for your comms. “I need a squadron down by Keele beach, south shore.” You walked away from the two confused men and to your beach bag. “And on my day off.” You groaned as a ship approached from the coast and another from above.

“Are you one of the royals? If so, we need to speak with you! I am General Obi-wan Kenobi! This is my padawan Anakin Skywalker!” The man ran after you as you approached the aircraft. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“There is no misunderstanding on our end, Jedi. Take them into custody send someone here to watch their troops. No weapons.” You opened both palms out to them.

The younger man turned to his Master, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He protectively held the hilt of his lightsaber and stared at your eyes. “I. Refuse.” He said bitterly, the cut over his eyes pressed further together. Although his tone offended you, the man caught your interest. A quiet intensity boiled within him and so plainly spilled over into his words.

“Anakin.” His master passed over their lightsabers. Anakin quickly tried to reach for his, but you closed your hands and walked onto the aircraft. Your soldiers stripped the clones of their weapons. “We are here to maintain peace, don’t argue with her. Whoever she is.” Obi-wan whispered to his padawan as they went on board with you.

“Take us to the palace.” You said to the pilot as you stood across from the men; Anakin’s eyes switched from his weapon in your netted bag to your eyes.

“Would you be so kind as to tell us your name?” Obi-wan asked as you clipped your holster belt on your hips.

“Head of Defense; [Y/N] [L/N].”

“[L/N]?” Obi-wan bowed; his padawan hesitated before following suit. “You’re the new Queen...” Obi-wan noted, his eyes on the large aquamarine ring on your left hand. The jewel decorated your body, a large pendant around your neck; it filled your bracelets and even the piercing on your cheek.

“You did your research.”

“Why aren’t there any photos or visuals of you in our database?” Anakin interrogated.

“Should I pose for you now?” You squinted at him, a smile on your lips. Your hand rests on your gun when Anakin turned from the conversation. “Hands need to be visible, Anakin.”

“It’s General Skywalker, and they are.” He retorted.

“This is your apprentice…uh, Padawan?”

Obi-wan agreed rather embarrassed, “Yes.”

“Hm.” At the sound of your disapproving sigh, Anakin’s nostrils flared, his expression faltered into irritation.

The ship slowly approached the large palace, washed in a pale blue from the oxidation; the vines and trees around the palace was the same way, darker shades of blue as well as pale greens. When the ship landed, Anakin turned to his Master. “Don’t look at me like that. If we get into a sticky situation, It’s because of your attitude.” The man said, his accent grew thicker when he lectured.

“I’ve got a plan.”

“I’ve got a better one.” Obi-wan stopped his Padawan. “You do nothing, say nothing and—” He raised his finger when Anakin started to interrupt. “And! Don’t look at her! Since you don’t have people skills, stay quiet.” Anakin smiled toothlessly and raised his eyebrows. ‘Better?’ “Much better.”

“Are you both done?” You asked, your head tilted. Obi-wan straightened out his robes and followed you inside; Anakin kept close by.

As you walked through the halls, you were met by servants who dressed you in proper attire and took your gun from the holster and replaced it a silver sword inside its sheath. The two Jedi stood behind you as you took a breath. Finally, you pushed open the doors to the throne room. “Good morning.” You smiled at the young girl who sat beside the throne; your sister quickly ran into your arms. “How’d you sleep?” You asked, taking a seat on the throne.

The girl’s smile slowly faded upon seeing the men beyond you. They rose from their bow, “Jedi?”

“Yes. I need to speak to them because they broke the law.” The girl covered her mouth with a giggle, “Could you go with the help for a few minutes? I’ll come get you later.” The girl kissed your cheek and hopped down. Your sweet smile left your face when you turned to the Jedi. “…do you have documentation, clearance for this mission from your Chancellor?”

Obi-wan took a hologram token from his sleeve and brought it to you. “Clearance and evidence of separatist droids occupying your planet.” You went through the documents and nodded. “We do not know exactly where but with your guidance through these terrains, your resources…we could rid this planet of them.”

You glanced from one man to the other. “Continue.”

“We understand that your planet is loyal to the republic---"

“You and your Chancellor believe that we will betray you for the separatists.” You stood from your throne, circling the two, “You came here to spy initially. It wasn’t your intention to crash but you put your trust in a weak pilot.” You whispered by Anakin’s ear, “Or perhaps they didn’t know of the crystal fragments in our atmosphere...” His right eye twitched as you passed him. “You came here…to fight a war, Jedi.”

Anakin’s chest heaved at your audacity. You as well as his Master could feel his anger overflow, the energy rilled you up.

“There are more ships in the atmosphere, aren’t there?” You asked and stood in front of Obi-wan.

“There are.”

The refraction from your jewels created rainbows over your unreadable expression, blue-tinted skin. “Did I miss anything?”

“No.”

“Jedi.” You sighed, “You are no longer welcome here. We can fight our own wars. You went behind our backs as a people, as a unit, and brought chaos.” Obi-wan shook his head in defeat. Anakin’s eye twitched. ‘This isn’t true! The separatists brought the war to your planet, not us!’ He thought. “Our treaties and alliance with the Republic will be brought to our court to discuss.”

“Wait a minute!” Anakin scoffed, “Do you have any idea how many droids are on your planet? You think we brought a calvary for fun?”

“Anakin, stop.��� His master sighed.

“They are slowly occupying your land. They are likely killing your people! What? Did you expect us to send you a full essay on why we should send in troops?!”

“I need not hear this.” You waved your hand to dismiss them.

“You, yourself weren’t even aware they are here! You didn’t know they entered your atmosphere.” He stepped to you, “You need us! There are tens of thousands of droids! They make hundreds by the hour!” His hand raised towards the open balconies overlooking the city. “Whether you like it or not, until your alliance with the republic is no longer valid, until your senator leaves Coruscant, we are not leaving Erden.”

“Who do you think you are?” You unsheathed your sword and held it to his neck. “You, your troops, and your master…need to leave immediately.”

“Make me.”

As his blue eyes stared down at you, you began to rethink what he had said. If what they are saying is true, you’ll need him--- unfortunately. You lowered your sword and looked at his Master. “Get your Beast under control. His pride will kill him.” You sheathed your sword.

Series Masterlist

[solodoodless]

Reference image hehehe

Context:

Anakin being Anakin got in trouble with the law, something about driving like a blind hen through the streets, Fox and the guys being the responsible people they are stop him, rules must be followed!!! even for jedi “war heroes”. Rex as a good friend tries to dialogue and get him out, but they lock him up lol. Obi-wan also tries to negotiate but….. they lock him up too! all he has to do is call the secret weapon!!! i.e. the girls XD

-Padme is upset, but mostly resigned. Anakin is an idiot. -Ahsoka is torn between scoffing and wondering why Rex is in jail too? -Satine was visiting and… :/ Chuchi comes to see if she can convince him to release the boys (she's the real secret weapon). -Bo-Katan has absolutely nothing to do here, but he loves to see the chaos and also the gossip…. :3

My mind wanders in stupidities while I draw, I can't help it…

[lowaltitude]

Forsaken  | Anakin Skywalker

- Star Wars AU - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Anakin Skywalker x FEM!reader, in which the war is ongoing. You've been summoned back after years away—by Obi-Wan... 𖥻 ideological clash, the Force philosophy, emotional tension, and the “torn between two truths” weight on your shoulders 𖥻 6K WORDS. slight cringe? unintentionally seems like a love triangle. flashbacks. PART ONE Altitude

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

You are a Force-sensitive diplomat and former Padawan who left the Jedi Order years ago due to ideological differences, but you’ve maintained deep connections to both Anakin and Obi-Wan. You're now a neutral mediator between the Republic and outer-rim systems, respected by both the Senate and the Jedi, but distrusted for your independence. You share a long, unresolved romantic history with Anakin, and a deep emotional bond with Obi-Wan—as a former mentor, perhaps even something more complicated. Your presence becomes a catalyst for their divergence.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The Jedi Temple hadn't changed—but I had.

My boots echoed down the marbled halls like a ghost returning to a place I once called home. Golden light filtered in through the high windows, catching the motes of dust and ash that never seemed to settle anymore. The air smelled of incense and scorched metal. I paused at the threshold of the briefing chamber, my hand resting lightly on my belt. The door hissed open with a soft hydraulic sigh.

And there he was.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood with his back to me, hands folded behind him, eyes fixed on the Coruscant skyline. The fading sun outlined him in pale fire, but his silhouette was sharp—too sharp.

"You came," he said softly, not turning.

"I always do," I replied, voice steady. I wasn’t sure if it was a lie.

He finally turned to face me. There were new lines around his eyes. Older. Tired. But deeper than that—a weight. Something heavy sat on his shoulders that the Jedi robes couldn’t hide. He took a step forward, then stopped, as if unsure whether to approach or retreat. I didn’t move.

"The Council trusts your neutrality," he said. "They believe you'll give me a chance to explain myself before they condemn me."

"I’m not here on the Council’s behalf." I held his gaze. "I’m here for you."

That got to him. His composure cracked just slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that might’ve been relief—or regret.

"They fear what I’ve become, Y/N. But the truth is—they made me this."

I studied him carefully. The way his voice lowered when he said it. Like it was sacred. Or dangerous.

"You're not here to explain yourself," I said. "You're here to see if I believe you."

"Do you?"

I didn’t answer. Because the door behind me opened again—and the Force shivered like lightning on water.

"Y/N?"

I turned, heart seizing. Anakin Skywalker stood in the doorway. His presence filled the room instantly—burning, unfiltered, alive. His golden saber hilt glinted at his hip, and his expression—when he saw me—softened like dawn breaking across a battlefield.

"You didn’t tell me she was here," he said, eyes narrowing at Obi-Wan.

"I wanted to speak with her before your emotions clouded the moment," Obi-Wan replied coolly. The tension between them was electric. The sun outside had turned blood-orange, casting shadows like battle scars across the floor. I stepped between them.

"Is this what it’s come to? You call me back, and I walk into a storm?"

"You're the only one left who sees both sides," Anakin said, jaw tight. "That makes you the most dangerous person in this Temple."

"Or the only one who can stop this before it starts."

Silence fell. The war hadn't reached the Temple walls yet. But in that moment, I realized: The real war was already here. And I was standing at its heart.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I needed air.

The Temple was suffocating—so full of ghosts I hadn’t made peace with. I slipped away to the high garden terrace, a place I used to escape to during training sessions I hated, lessons I questioned, dreams I couldn't share.

Now the garden was quiet, lit only by the glow of distant city lights and the soft hum of security fields. Somewhere in the lower levels, speeders buzzed like insects. Above, stars blinked cold and unfeeling.

I leaned against the stone railing, arms folded, trying to breathe.

"I thought I'd find you here," said a voice behind me.

I turned slowly. Anakin stood just inside the archway, his robes rustling in the breeze. His gaze was intense—not angry, but charged. Like everything he wasn’t saying was pressing against the back of his throat.

"I used to think this place was peaceful," I said, forcing a small smile. "Now it just feels... far away from everything that matters."

He stepped forward, slowly.

"You always did run to the highest places when things got complicated," he said. "I guess I hoped you'd run to me this time."

I looked away.

"That was a long time ago, Anakin."

"But not long enough that I forgot," he said quietly.

Silence stretched between us. I could hear his breath—shaky, barely restrained.

"You left," he said, finally. "And I tried to understand why. The Order, the rules, the way they looked at you like you were dangerous just for feeling something—"

"I left because it was killing me to stay," I interrupted. "Because if I stayed, I would’ve ended up like Obi-Wan. Drowning in loyalty to something that no longer believed in its own values."

He closed the distance between us in two steps. "And yet you're here again."

"Because you’re still here." That stopped him. I felt his hand brush mine—hesitant at first. Testing if I would pull away. I didn’t.

"I don’t know what’s happening to him," Anakin whispered. "Obi-Wan’s not just doubting the Council anymore. He’s... angry. Secretive. He talks like the Jedi are the problem, not the solution."

"And you’re afraid he’s right?"

He looked at me then, and it hit me—how exhausted he was. How much of his light he’d burned trying to hold everything together. "No," he said. "I’m afraid I’ll lose him before I can bring him back."

I nodded slowly, heart aching. "You won’t. Not if he still remembers what it means to care."

He was quiet for a long time. Then—his voice barely above a whisper—"Do you still remember?"

I turned toward him, really looking at him now. The scars. The wear in his voice. The man shaped by war, by love denied, by choices he was never allowed to make freely.

"Every day," I said.

And when he kissed me—it wasn’t rushed or reckless

It was like he’d been waiting. Like every emotion he couldn’t name during the war, every lingering glance across a battlefield, every moment of silence between us had been leading here. His hand slid to the side of my face, fingers threading into my hair, pulling me in like I was the only thing anchoring him to the present. And for that one impossible second, I let myself believe that maybe... maybe it was enough. That we were enough.

But then he pulled back. Breathless. Brow furrowed. Like he’d just stepped over a line he wasn’t sure he could ever uncross.

"I shouldn’t have done that," he said, voice raw.

"But you did," I whispered, still too close.

The shadows danced across his face, flickering with the distant lights of the city. He looked haunted.

"I've made too many choices lately that weren't mine," he said. "Letting myself feel this... it’s dangerous."

"Maybe the danger isn’t in feeling it," I said. "Maybe it’s in pretending we don’t."

He searched my eyes like he was looking for a reason not to believe me. But then the comm clipped to his belt beeped—sharp, insistent.

His jaw clenched as he checked it.

"It's the Temple guard," he muttered. "Obi-Wan just left his quarters. Alone. No record of where he’s going."

My stomach twisted.

"Is he running?"

"Or setting something in motion," Anakin said. "Either way—we can’t wait for the Council."

I nodded. "Let’s go."

He started toward the exit—then paused. Looked back at me.

"When this is over," he said, softer now, "when all of this ends... I don’t want to pretend anymore."

"Then don’t," I said. "But you have to survive it first."

A flicker of a smile. Sad. Steady. "Then stay close."

And with that, we slipped into the night. Together.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I’d forgotten how cold Coruscant could get this deep down.

The industrial levels were always in twilight. Streetlamps flickered overhead, casting long shadows against duracrete walls stained with smoke and time. The people down here didn’t look at Jedi—they barely looked up at all. This was where the Republic ended and the real galaxy began.

Anakin moved beside me in silence, cloak pulled close, hood half-lowered. Even here, even now, his presence was impossible to ignore. The Force wrapped around him like a storm held just beneath the skin.

"Anything?" I asked, watching him scan the crowd with a soldier’s precision.

He shook his head. "No... but he’s close. I can feel him."

"Then why does it feel like he’s letting us find him?"

Anakin didn’t answer. We slipped down a narrow alley, steam hissing from rusted vents. Somewhere far above, sirens echoed faintly—too far to mean anything to us. Finally, he stopped. His hand went out to halt me.

"Here," he whispered. "This is it."

I followed his gaze—and felt it too. The Force rippled like heat off the durasteel ahead. Subtle. Familiar. Controlled.

Obi-Wan.

There was a figure waiting near an old droid foundry, partially cloaked in shadow. Hood up. Posture unmistakable. I stepped forward, but Anakin grabbed my wrist. Not hard. Just enough to remind me: we didn’t know who he was anymore. Obi-Wan turned as if he’d heard that thought.

"You took your time," he said calmly. "I expected the Council, not the two of you."

"You knew we’d come," I said, stepping ahead of Anakin now. "Don’t pretend this wasn’t part of the plan."

Obi-Wan pushed back his hood. I expected anger. Defensiveness. But what I saw was worse. Conviction.

"I hoped you would come," he said, eyes locking on mine. "You’re the only one who might understand."

"You’ve been sabotaging Republic campaigns. Disrupting supply lines. Lying to the Council. I want to understand, but you’re making it harder by the second."

Obi-Wan looked past me—at Anakin.

"And what about you, Anakin? Still clinging to the idea that the Jedi are saving anyone?" Anakin didn’t speak. His jaw was locked, fists clenched at his sides. Obi-Wan took a slow step forward.

"You think I’ve fallen. But maybe I’ve woken up. The war isn’t just killing us on the battlefield—it’s rotting us from the inside. We were never meant to be generals. We were meant to be guardians. Guides. Not weapons of the Senate."

"And what would you become instead?" I asked. "A blade in the dark? A shadow behind Palpatine’s throne?"

"I’d tear down the throne," he said, his voice sharp now. "The Republic is a lie. And I refuse to die for it."

My heart sank. "Then what do you want from us, Obi-Wan?"

He looked at me. "I want you to choose. I want you to see what’s coming. The Jedi won’t survive what’s next. But we might—if we let go of what we were." For a moment, everything fell quiet. No blasters. No politics. Just three people, standing on the edge of something enormous. Then Anakin stepped beside me, voice quiet but steady.

"We’re not here to choose sides."

I nodded. "We’re here to stop you before you burn everything down."

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked between us. "So be it." And in a blur of motion, he ignited his saber—not blue.

Crimson.

My blood went cold. And the Force exploded around us.

The red glow from Obi-Wan’s saber bathed his face in bloodlight, but his eyes were clear. Steady. Certain. It wasn’t rage driving him. It was belief. And somehow, that made it worse.

“Step aside,” Obi-Wan said—low and even, like he wasn’t about to start a war. “I don’t want to fight you.”

"You ignited that saber," Anakin said coldly. “You made it a fight.”

“I did what I had to.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked to me. “The Jedi serve a corrupt Senate. I serve the will of the Force, not bureaucracy.”

"The Force doesn’t ask for obedience through fear," Anakin snapped, stepping in front of me now. “You sound like Dooku.”

“I sound like Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said sharply, voice cracking. “He saw the cracks before any of us did. He died for his clarity. And now you're both making the same mistake I did—trusting an institution that feeds the machine of war.”

“You think we don’t see it?” I said quietly, stepping around Anakin. “We’ve lived the cost. But if the Jedi are flawed, let’s fix them. Not burn them to ash.”

Obi-Wan turned to me fully, and there was something in his gaze I hadn’t seen before.

Hope.

“You still understand,” he said. “You’ve always been different. That’s why they never trusted you. You feel more than they’re willing to. That’s not weakness—it’s what the Jedi were meant to be.”

He held out a hand to me. His saber stayed lit.

“You don’t belong in their council chambers and committees. You belong with me. Help me rebuild something better. Something true.”

My chest tightened. And for a second—just a second—I remembered being his Padawan. The first time I disobeyed the Code and he didn’t reprimand me, just smiled like he was proud. The night he told me I didn’t need to be perfect—only present.

I remembered safety. But I also remembered him walking away. The coldness that had grown where warmth used to be. The silence.

I looked at his hand. Then at Anakin.

“Is this what you meant to do?” I asked. “Bring us here to choose? Is this a battle or a recruitment pitch?”

Obi-Wan’s hand lowered. “Maybe both.”

I didn’t move.

And neither did Anakin. “I asked the Council to appoint you,” he said suddenly, without looking at me. “Before this.”

I turned, stunned. “You—what?”

“I wanted you on the Council. To have a voice. A vote. I thought if anyone could keep us honest, it was you.”

“Anakin—”

“But now you’re standing between us. And I don’t know if you’re the one who keeps us from falling apart—” his voice broke slightly, “—or the one we’ll shatter against.”

My breath caught. The air vibrated. The Force was screaming now—pulling in every direction. And then Obi-Wan moved.

His blade swung in a precise arc—not at me, not at Anakin, but between us. A warning. A line drawn.

Anakin ignited his saber instantly—blue clashing with red in a sudden burst of light and fury. Sparks flew. Metal groaned. The ground beneath us shuddered as Force waves collided in invisible shockwaves.

I staggered back—watching them move. And for a moment... I couldn’t tell who was winning.

They knew each other’s styles too well. Obi-Wan’s discipline against Anakin’s raw power. Fluidity against fire. Flash. A strike aimed at the heart—deflected. Flash. A kick, a leap, a force push that sent Anakin into a broken pillar.

Obi-Wan turned to me. “You can still walk away,” he said, breathing hard. “Before this war consumes both of us.”

“I already chose,” I said.

And I drew my saber.

Not for politics.

Not for the Council.

But for the truth they were both too blinded to see alone.

I stepped forward, blade raised— But before I could strike, a column buckled nearby. The catwalk overhead groaned. An unseen push—maybe from Obi-Wan, maybe from the Force itself—crashed into me like a wave.

My feet left the ground. For a second, all I saw was light and flame—Then the sound: a concussive boom as the ceiling above ruptured. Debris collapsed between us. Dust swallowed the air. I hit the ground hard, my saber skidding out of reach, my ribs burning. When the smoke cleared, I was alone on the lower level.

Cut off.

And he was there.

Obi-Wan.

Closer than I thought. Too close.

He didn’t strike. He just stood there, breathing hard, cloak torn, eyes rimmed with pain and fury and something far, far sadder. "You shouldn’t be here," he said.

"I’m exactly where I need to be."

He didn’t raise his weapon. Instead, he lowered it. Powered it down. The red hissed out like dying breath. And in that sudden quiet, my heart thudded loud in my chest. He looked at me—not like an enemy. Like a memory.

“You don’t have to follow him,” he said, voice hoarse. “He’s changing, and you know it.”

"So are you," I whispered.

"I changed because I had to. Because I saw what the Jedi were becoming—what they were making us become. Soldiers. Enforcers. Blind." He stepped closer, slow. “The Council never saw you. Not the way I did. Not the way I do. You were always too passionate, too bold. They feared that.”

I swallowed hard. “They didn’t fear me. They feared losing control.”

He smiled faintly. “Exactly. And now you have a choice.”

He reached for me—not for my weapon, not to attack. Just reached. Open palm. “I’m not asking you to betray him. I’m asking you to save yourself. Before the Council drags you down with them. Before he does.”

I should’ve stepped back.

But I didn’t.

Because I remembered the way he used to stand in the rain after missions, eyes to the sky like he was waiting for the Force to speak. I remembered how gently he corrected me, how deeply he listened when I doubted myself. How he believed I was destined for something more.

And maybe that was the worst part.

He still believed it.

“I know you feel it,” he said softly. “The weight. The rot inside the Republic. You were never meant to fight their wars.”

"And what were we meant for, Obi-Wan?" I whispered.

He held my gaze.

“To guide. To protect. To become something new. With me.”

The tears stung before I even realized they were there. My fingers curled tight around my saber. "You want me to walk away from him."

"I want you to walk toward yourself."

For a moment—I almost did.

Almost.

But then I felt it.

A flicker in the Force—Anakin. Hurt. Distant. Calling for me. And it hit me all at once—like oxygen flooding back into starving lungs. Not just the sound of him. The feeling of him. Fire and loyalty and heartbreak and hope—hope that I would choose us.

I looked at Obi-Wan.

And I stepped back. “I’m sorry,” I said. My voice cracked. “But I already have.”

His expression shattered. Just for a second.

Then—

A whisper of wind as his saber reignited. Crimson, glowing, blinding in the dark. “I won’t hold back next time,” he said quietly.

"I’m not asking you to."

And I turned—

And ran.

Back toward the fire.

Back toward Anakin.

The corridors were half-collapsed. Lights flickered. Metal hissed where fire still licked at broken beams. My boots slipped on ash.

“Anakin—” I shouted, voice cracking. No answer.

I pushed deeper into the wreckage, coughing against the smoke. The Force swirled around me in waves—grief, rage, desperation. And then—

I felt him. I didn’t see him first. I heard him—breathing. Shallow. Labored. I turned a corner.

And there he was.

Slumped against a fractured pillar, saber extinguished, eyes closed. Blood on his brow. Smoke curling around him like ghosts. His chest rose and fell in jagged pulls.

I ran to him, dropped to my knees. “Anakin—” My hands hovered uselessly over his chest, his shoulder, his face. “Hey. Hey.”

His eyes opened. And when they locked on mine—god, I nearly shattered.

“You came back,” he rasped.

“Of course I did.” My voice broke into a whisper. “You idiot.”

A shaky smile curved his lips. “Didn’t think you would.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at me like he wasn’t sure I was real. And then—

“I felt you hesitate,” he said, quiet. “When he offered you a way out.”

My heart stung. “I almost took it.”

“I know.”

I didn’t look away. I let him see the guilt in my face, the fracture lines that hadn’t healed. “But I didn’t. I chose you.” Silence stretched between us—thick, pulsing, raw. And then Anakin leaned forward, forehead resting against mine.

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. “Not after everything I’ve done.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” I said. “I do.”

He laughed—soft, broken. “We’re both a mess.”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “But we’re still here.”

His hand found mine.

Fingers laced.

And in that moment, surrounded by fire and failure and everything we couldn’t fix—I felt something like peace.

Not because it was over.

But because we hadn’t given up.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ flashback .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

The Temple gardens were quiet. Too quiet.

It was late. The war should’ve made everything feel sharper—louder—but somehow silence had become the most dangerous sound of all. Like something waiting to fall apart.

I found him there, sitting in the dark beneath the same tree we used to sneak off to as young Padawans. Legs drawn up, hands tangled in his own hair.

“Anakin?”

He didn’t look up. I sat beside him anyway.

He was shaking. “You don’t have to say anything,” I murmured.

And he didn’t. Not for a long time. Until he finally said—voice hollow—“They bombed the refugee convoy. I wasn’t fast enough.”

My stomach turned. I remembered that mission. Dozens dead. All civilian. No Republic forces nearby. No real reason.

“You weren’t the one who did it,” I whispered.

His jaw clenched. “No. But I could’ve stopped it. I sensed it. I knew. But I stayed. I followed orders. I waited for the Council’s confirmation instead of—” His voice cracked. “I waited. And they died.”

My breath caught. “That’s not on you.”

He turned then. Finally.

And his eyes—They weren’t angry. Not like I expected. They were numb.

“You don’t get it,” he said. “I’m done watching innocent people die while we debate ethics. While the Jedi twiddle their thumbs and hide behind codes that only make sense in a perfect galaxy. Which this isn’t.”

“Anakin—”

“I killed a senator last week.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

His voice was ice. Detached. “A Separatist envoy. Caught him boarding a cruiser. He was unarmed. I could’ve arrested him. Turned him in. But I knew—if I did that, he’d be back out by morning. Hundreds more would die because of him. So I didn’t hesitate.”

I stared at him. Frozen.

“I just did what had to be done.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

“You should say something,” he murmured, almost like a prayer.

But I couldn’t. Because I saw the cracks forming in him. The places the war had hollowed out. The fire curling where there used to be light. And I didn’t know how to fix it.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ end flashback .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

He’s staring at the floor now. Silent.

My fingers are still wrapped around his.

“You don’t get to decide if you deserve me,” I say softly. “You’re not perfect. You make mistakes.” A beat. “But you stopped when I asked you to.”

His eyes flick to mine.

“You looked me in the face, and you chose restraint, even when everything in you wanted to burn the galaxy down.”

His breath shudders out.

“You made the hardest choice,” I whisper. “You didn’t fall.” And maybe that’s why I’m still here. Maybe that’s why I ran through fire to get back to him.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The chamber felt colder than I remembered.

I stood in the center of the Council floor, wrapped in soot and smoke and someone else’s dried blood. The walls hummed softly. The city below blinked through the tall windows like stars too tired to shine.

Anakin was behind me—on his feet, but barely. A bandage at his temple, arm still stiff from the wreckage. I could feel him through the Force, like heat behind a wall. Simmering. Protective. Dangerous.

Mace Windu’s gaze was sharp as a blade. “You disobeyed orders,” he said flatly. “You interfered with a classified pursuit. And you endangered the life of a Council Master.”

“He wasn’t trying to arrest anyone,” I snapped, before I could stop myself. “He was trying to turn us against each other.”

Murmurs stirred. Ki-Adi’s brow furrowed. Plo Koon tilted his head.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi has always been a loyal servant of the Jedi Order,” Windu said. “He deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

“He’s not a servant anymore,” Anakin muttered behind me. “And maybe that’s the problem.”

Windu turned his gaze to him. “You’re lucky to be standing here at all.”

Anakin’s jaw tensed. I stepped closer to him—barely noticeable, but enough that he felt it. Enough that the Council saw. Yoda’s voice came quiet, grave. “Much emotion. Much fear. Around you both, it swirls.”

I swallowed hard. My voice didn’t shake.

“We didn’t ignite this war. But we’re the ones fighting it. Every day. Bleeding for it. Watching the people we care about slip away—because you want to pretend the system still works.”

“The system is all that stands between us and chaos,” Windu replied.

Anakin laughed. Soft. Bitter. “Chaos’s already here. You just can’t see it from your chairs.”

The silence that followed was heavy. That was when he said it. Low. Almost too low to hear. “I’ll leave.”

My head whipped toward him. “What?”

Anakin didn’t look at me. He stared straight ahead. “If you think it’s me that’s the problem… if you think the only way to keep her safe is for me to walk away—then fine. I’ll do it.”

My stomach dropped.

“You think that’s what I want?” I asked, breathless.

“I think it’s the only way they’ll stop coming after you.”

He turned to me then—and his eyes, Force, his eyes—

“I don’t care if they take my rank, my saber, my name. Just not you.”

I shook my head. “You’re not thinking clearly—”

“I am.” He stepped forward. Closer than he should’ve in front of the Council. “I’ve never been more clear.”

“I don’t want to be protected, Anakin. I want you. All of you. Even the part that makes bad choices.”

He reached for my hand. I let him.

Windu looked between us like he was deciding whether to draw his saber or deliver a sentence.

And then Yoda said, quietly, “Both of you. Time… you must take. Before judgment is passed.”

Reluctantly, Windu gave a tight nod. “Dismissed. For now.”

Outside the Council Chamber, I caught Anakin’s arm as soon as the doors sealed shut. “What the hell was that?”

“I meant it.”

“I don’t want you to leave the Order,” I hissed. “That’s not what this is about.”

“No,” he said. “It’s about what they’ll do to you next. If I’m gone, they’ll stop watching. You’ll be free.”

“I don’t want to be free from you.”

We stared at each other, hearts pounding like sabers clashing in our chests.

“I need you,” I said. “But not at the cost of who you are.”

He exhaled slowly. Like the weight of the galaxy was bleeding out of him.

Then—softly, with a crooked, tired smile:

“You’re stuck with me, then.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The air was heavy with incense. The room glowed in soft amber, filtered through the skylight above. I sat cross-legged across from Master Yoda. He hadn’t spoken in minutes. Just breathed. So I waited.

Finally—his eyes opened. “Conflicted, you are,” he said.

My throat tightened. The words came slow. “I chose the Republic.”

A beat.

Then softer—almost to myself: “I chose Anakin.”

Yoda nodded, as if that was never in question. “But your heart does not rest.”

My fingers curled into the fabric of my robe. “I keep wondering… what if Obi-Wan was right?”

“Right, he may be,” Yoda said, eyes half-lidded. “In what he fights for.”

“But not how he fights for it.”

I looked up. “He said he serves the will of the Force. That the Jedi only serve bureaucracy.”

“Hard words. Painful truths, perhaps.” Yoda’s ears drooped slightly. “But twisted, they have become. Shadows of ideals. Shaped by grief. War.”

I swallowed hard.

“You still feel him,” he said.

I nodded. “Every time I reach for the Force, it’s like… there’s this thread. Tense. Pulling. I don’t know if he’s trying to save me—or if he thinks I need saving.”

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ meanwhile, across the galaxy .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

Rain fell hard on the scorched stone.

Obi-Wan stood at the edge of a ruined balcony, cloak soaked, hood down. His eyes were closed. Hands behind his back. The Force pulsed around him—chaotic, loud.

He felt it.

That flicker in the bond. The moment she chose. His eyes snapped open. “They still think I’m lost,” he murmured. Behind him, a figure stepped out of the shadows—hooded. Calm.

“You are,” said Count Dooku, voice like gravel over fire. “But that’s what makes you dangerous to them.”

Obi-Wan didn’t look away from the storm. “She chose Skywalker.”

“For now.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw tensed. “She doesn’t see what I see. What he’s becoming.”

“Then show her,” Dooku said simply. “You don’t need to fight them. Just… open her eyes.”

Obi-Wan said nothing for a long time.

Then—

“I won’t hurt her.”

“You won’t have to.”

Lightning cracked above. Obi-Wan turned away from the sky, from the storm. And vanished back into the dark.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ back at the temple .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

“Still loves you, he does,” Yoda said gently.

I closed my eyes.

“That’s what scares me.”

Yoda tilted his head. “Afraid for yourself, are you?”

I shook my head. “Afraid for him.”

A long silence.

Then Yoda whispered, “When love becomes fear, dangerous it is. But when it becomes hope… mm. Stronger than any saber.”

I exhaled slowly. The words didn’t fix anything.

But for the first time since Mustafar, I didn’t feel like I was drowning.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The emotional aftershocks from the Temple still haven’t settled. But time waits for no one—

I found Anakin in the Temple’s north courtyard, staring up at the sky like it might split open and offer answers. His arm was still in a sling. His lightsaber lay across his lap—silent, but not resting. He didn’t look at me as I approached.

“He’s going to reach out again,” he said.

I sat beside him. “You felt it too?”

Anakin nodded. “Not directly. But... I know him.”

His fingers traced the emitter of his saber. “If Obi-Wan thinks he’s lost you, he’ll push harder. Not because he’s angry—because he still believes he can save you.”

“I don’t need saving.”

He finally looked at me. “I know.”

I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. “Then trust me.”

His voice dropped. “It’s not you I don’t trust.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Her connection to Kenobi is... not severed,” Windu said, pacing. “If he makes contact again, she could be compromised.”

“She is loyal,” Plo Koon offered, calm but firm.

“So was Dooku, once,” Ki-Adi replied darkly.

“She’s more than loyal,” Yoda said, his eyes closed. “She’s centered. Even in conflict, clarity she finds.”

“Or deception,” Windu said sharply. “We should bring her in. Question her.”

“No,” Yoda said. Everyone turned. Yoda’s eyes opened—sharp, certain. “Let her come to us.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The holotable flickered.

Rex stood with dust still on his armor, helmet tucked under one arm, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Got something you’ll want to see,” he said, nodding toward the console.

A blue-tinted hologram of a devastated outpost blinked to life. Republic insignias—burned. Bodies—clones. Some of them his.

“We found this two clicks from Carida system,” Rex said. “Intel said it was a droid trap.”

Anakin stepped forward. “It wasn’t?”

“No droids,” Rex said. “But one Jedi signature, confirmed by the medtechs.”

He looked at me.

“Kenobi.”

My stomach dropped. “Sabotage?” I asked.

“More like... persuasion. The officers in command didn’t die from lightsaber wounds. They surrendered.”

Rex tapped the console. A new file opened—encrypted, but partially recovered.

A message. Only a few seconds of audio.

“You don’t have to die for a system that doesn’t see you. The Jedi aren’t your masters. You have a choice.”

Obi-Wan’s voice.

Calm. Steady.

Familiar.

Anakin didn’t move. But I felt his anger like a storm surge in the Force. “He’s turning the clones,” he whispered.

Rex didn’t deny it. “They’re listening, sir. Some of them... they’re starting to question orders.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I couldn’t sleep.

Not with Obi-Wan’s voice still ringing in my ears. Not with the Council watching me like a shadow waiting to fall. Anakin hadn’t spoken since the report. He stood at the edge of the balcony, overlooking the sleeping city. When I joined him, he didn’t flinch.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I whispered.

“I’m thinking if he reaches out to you, I won’t stop you from answering.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I won’t stop you. But I’ll be there when you do.”

His hand brushed mine.

“Because if he takes you… I’ll burn every planet he hides on.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The message came through just past midnight.

Encrypted. Buried in the Temple’s archives under a false file name: "Orbit Shift—Coruscant Agricultural Zones.”

A routine maintenance ping. Except… the metadata held a signature code. And I recognized it. Not because it was current.

Because it was old. Because Obi-Wan taught it to me.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ flashback .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

I couldn’t have been more than nine.

Too old, the Temple Masters said. But Qui-Gon Jinn had argued. Said the Force moved differently in some children. Said attachment was not always a weakness.

Obi-Wan was the first to meet me.

He was younger then. Still figuring out how to teach without sounding like he was quoting a textbook.

He’d handed me a broken communicator. Told me to fix it.

I crossed my arms. “Is this some Jedi test?”

His smile had been small, wry. “No. I just don’t have the parts. But if you want to talk to someone… sometimes the Force listens better when the lines are open.”

I remember turning the device over. Something etched inside, shallow but deliberate.

O.K. → Y/N If you’re ever lost, reverse the signal.

I didn’t know what he meant then.

But I do now.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ end flashback .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

The hidden audio burst to life—only thirty seconds. Static. A familiar rhythm behind it. Not words—a pattern. My old comm code. Reversed.

Obi-Wan’s voice filtered through, faint but deliberate.

“You’re not the only one who remembers. They’ll say you’ve chosen your side. But the Force doesn’t take sides. It only waits for balance.”

Silence. Then, softer:

“Come to Carida. Alone.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The message hadn’t stayed secret long.

I stood in the center of the room, flanked by two temple guards. I hadn’t been arrested—but I hadn’t been invited, either.

Mace Windu was the first to speak.

“This is a direct contact from an enemy of the Republic. It cannot be ignored.”

“It was sent in code,” I said. “He knew I’d find it.”

“Which means it was for you,” he snapped. “Not for the Order.”

“She has history with him,” Ki-Adi said. “Emotional attachment.”

Yoda was quiet. Watching me.

Mace continued. “We can’t afford to assume her loyalty is stable. Not anymore.”

“Then say it,” I said coldly. “You think I’m a liability.”

“We think you’re the only one he’ll come near,” Plo Koon said. “Which makes you valuable.”

Which makes me bait, I thought. No one denied it.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Anakin stood beside the ship they assigned me. His eyes were dark, jaw clenched.

“You don’t have to go,” he said.

“I do.”

“If he hurts you—”

“He won’t.”

Anakin grabbed my arm gently, his voice low and breaking.

“You think I’m scared of Obi-Wan?” he said. “I’m scared of losing you to him.”

I reached up, touching his face. “You won’t.” But I didn’t add as long as you don’t try to stop me. We were both keeping things back now. The space between us had never felt so wide.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ meanwhile, across the galaxy .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

Obi-Wan waited.

Alone.

No army. No fortress. Just a ruined garden, grown over with moss and silence.

He looked up at the stars. Felt the shift in the Force. She’s coming. And for the first time in days... He let himself hope.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The ship touched down on cracked stone.

Vines had overtaken what must’ve once been a training temple—a Jedi outpost from before the war, when the Order still sent knights to the Outer Rim to build things instead of break them.

Now, it looked like the ruins of something sacred. Or maybe something abandoned.

I stepped out. The air was thick with green and silence. And then—movement. He was already waiting.

Cloak draped over one shoulder, lightsaber at his hip. His hair was longer than I remembered. He looked older, but not fragile. Not dark.

Just... tired.

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan said, and it wasn’t a warning.

It was a memory. My name in a voice I hadn’t heard in months, and never like that.

I didn’t answer.

She’s come alone. But she didn’t come unarmed.

He gestured to a broken column. “Walk with me.”

I did. Not a duel yet. Not a battle. Just two people who used to know each other better than anyone else, now walking on opposite sides of a crumbling world.

We moved slowly through the ruins, the Force humming between us like tension in a drawn bow. Not hostile. Not yet.

“Why here?” I asked.

“It used to be a place of peace,” he said quietly. “I thought you’d remember it.”

I did. A training camp I visited once as a Padawan. He’d been instructing a small group then. I remembered watching him from a balcony. Even then, he'd looked alone. We stopped at a fallen archway where moss grew over stone carvings of ancient Jedi.

Obi-Wan turned to face me. “You got the message,” he said. “I wasn’t sure they’d let you.”

“They didn’t,” I said.

He nodded like he expected that. Then looked at me—really looked at me. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.”

He didn’t smile. “I was hoping you’d see it for yourself. What the Council’s become. What the Jedi have become.”

My heart ached. “I have seen it.”

“Then come with me,” he said. No hesitation. No anger.

Just that same unbearable calm he always carried, even when the galaxy burned.

“You think it’s that simple?” I asked.

“I think it has to be.”

He stepped closer.

“I’m not building an empire. I’m not bowing to Sidious. I’ve seen what that leads to.”

He didn’t say Anakin’s name—but the silence screamed it.

“I want to rebuild something better. Something outside of the Republic’s chains. But I need people who still believe in something.”

I looked at him, torn in a thousand ways.

And he saw it.

“You still believe in me,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Don’t you?”

I opened my mouth but I didn’t answer.

Not yet.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ meanwhile, across the galaxy .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

The Council watched the tracker blink slowly across the holomap.

“She’s with him,” Windu said.

“Not detained,” Ki-Adi added.

“By choice,” Plo Koon murmured.

Anakin stood at the edge of the room, eyes locked on that blinking dot.

“I told you,” he said. “If anything happens to her…”

His voice didn’t finish the sentence.

It didn’t need to.

───── ❝.𖥔 ݁ ˖ back in carida.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❞ ─────

Obi-Wan led me to the center of the ruins.

What I saw stopped me cold.

Stone columns had been reshaped—some by the Force, some by hand—into a circle. A ring of old Jedi symbols. The center held a tree, half-dead, half-blooming. Roots tangled around shattered armor. Clone helmets. Jedi hilts.

A memorial.

Or a warning.

“This is what we’re building,” he said. “Not a rebellion. A refuge.” He turned to me again—closer now, face etched with conviction. “You don’t have to go back to them. You don’t have to choose him.”

The words hit harder than anything else. But I didn’t flinch.

“I came to hear you,” I said. “To see for myself.”

“And?”

I looked at the tree. At the wreckage. At everything he’d kept buried in this garden of ghosts. Then back to him. “I chose the Republic,” I said first. And I saw hope flicker—just for a second—in his eyes. But then I finished. Quieter. Unshakable. “…I chose Anakin.”

Obi-Wan exhaled like he’d taken a hit to the ribs. His expression didn’t break—he was too disciplined for that. But the Force rippled with grief.

“I never wanted to lose you,” he said.

“You didn’t,” I whispered. “But I’m not yours to keep.”

He didn’t follow me as I turned to leave. He didn’t call after me.

But I felt it.

The moment it changed.

Like a thread severing. A bond splintering.

And somewhere, I knew—

He wouldn’t ask again.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Anakin was waiting as I stepped off the ship.

He looked like hell—bruised, limping, tired—but alive. And the second he saw me, something in his shoulders dropped. The storm in him stilled.

“You came back,” he said, voice hoarse.

I stepped into him. “I never left.”

He pulled me close. Held on like he’d die if he didn’t. Above us, the skyline burned gold with sunrise. But peace still felt a galaxy away.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

TO BE CONTINUED ?? IN PART TWO:

Conviction (2) | Anakin Skywalker

coming soon (maybe... lets see how this one goes) Copyright © 2025 Altitude. All rights reserved.

[galactic-rhea]

If I ever write a "Anakin doesn't fall to the dark side and Padmé doesn't die" you bet is going to be anything but a fix it AU, because the only thing fixed is that there's not Vader, but I'm still going to put these characters through some awful damn stuff.

Like, literal persecution, literal spending one night in a moon and the next day running for the lives. Stuff like Padmé having to leave a wounded Anakin behind as she runs with the twins. And then it's days before they reunite again.

Like Padmé didn't die, good. Anakin is still Anakin and he still has an incredible godawful amount of C-PTSD and unhealthy coping mechanisms and he was constantly in battle 3 days ago, he might react badly by punching someone until his hands are bloody just because someone used a whistle that sounded a bit like a battle droid. He doesn't sleep, he literally stands guard with his lightsaber in hand unable to sleep while the babies and Padmé get some sleep on the floor of some abbandonned shack in the middle of nowhere in non-described planet number 4th of the week.

Stuff like Anakin being torn with the "who will you save" (again) between staying with his family VS learning that Obi-Wan was captured (is even true, is that information true, how are you so sure).

Stuff like Padmé having to watch how the Empire records in live Holo-TV how her family is captured and being taken prisoners to try and rat them out, because they're getting on Palpatine's nerves.

Anakin losing his mind because he knows he was this close to, you know, killing everyone. And fearing he might as well still do it if the pressure skyrockets again because now isn't only Padmé, is her, and the twins.

Stuff like Anakin still somehow getting terribly injured and burned because it was written for him, apparently.

Stuff like yay, they're on the rebellion now, yay it's...it's still hell, there's not peace. Stuff like "Hey, Anakin, Padmé, have you thought that maybe is safer if the twins grow up somewhere else away from all of this, and you know, some stability?"

That kind of stuff.

I have so many ideas and only 700 words of it written somewhere on my phone 😩

[david-talks-sw]

Part 2 of the 4-part post series interweaving George Lucas' words in a curated meta post. Here's PART 1, here's PART 2.5.

In George Lucas' words: The Fall and Return of Anakin Skywalker

- Episode II -

Anakin's status quo at the start of the film.

In Episode II, Anakin is a teenager. A petulant, whiny, pain in the ass teenager, and I hate to say it, but that's what a lot of teenagers are!

He is a little cocky, a little sure of himself, and constantly chafing a little bit with Obi-Wan. That said, it's worth pointing out that Obi-Wan and Anakin actually like each other.

Their introduction scene was, in fact, a reshoot, that came from George wanting to emphasize the fact that the two are partners and friends, and even though there’s a little bit of tension between the two of them, throughout the film, where they're at each other's throats, they do have a history of warm friendship, off-screen.

Even though Obi-Wan is a "stern taskmaster" and mentor, he still cares about Anakin. And he’s more frustrated with their relationship and Anakin’s unwillingness to go along with the rules, whereas Anakin feels he is being held back by Obi-Wan.

They both have a point. Because while Anakin is indeed a gifted person, very talented, there is a constant dichotomy of "Anakin's lack of discipline vs his natural talent" at play.

In every set-piece, we think that [Anakin's] gone a little bit too far and made a mistake, and then you realize that he’s actually very clever. And then, sometimes, it's the opposite. We think he's got this, and actually... he doesn't.

The fact is that, being the Chosen One, Anakin is slightly more powerful than other people, which means he is slightly ahead of himself at all times.

We also get a little sense that Anakin has some relationship with Palpatine and that he likes Palpatine, his other mentor figure. 

The chancellor's place in Anakin's life isn't helpful, as we can see that Palpatine is sort of boosting his ego to make him feel that he's better than possibly he really is.

A lot of Anakin's philosophies and some of Anakin's dialog later on - about how he should be allowed more freedom, more assignments - come from Palpatine.

So on the one hand, things aren't perfect. For someone in Anakin's situation, the ability to do evil is much easier to come by. The issues he struggles with are the same issues that everybody struggles with, the fact that sometimes they don’t consider the consequences of what they’re doing because it’s not expedient.

On the other hand, Anakin is still essentially a good kid, and he's determined to be greatest among the Jedi. It's not that he has evil intentions, but in this film we see how he's under some pressure and we start to realize that some new temptations are coming his way.

These new temptations come in the shape of:

the nightmares of his mother

and the reunion with his beloved Padmé.

Anakin & Padmé - from attraction to love

When Padmé re-enters his life, the film shifts into a story about Anakin's dealing with his emotions, the difficulty of his being torn between his duty as a Jedi who swore to serve the Republic, and his emotional needs, which relate to Padmé.

Back in Episode I, Anakin had a crush on her when he was little. She dismissed him because he was just a little kid, but she liked him, like as with a puppy. Now, she’s grown up. And she's beginning to see him as an attractive young man.

As they are paired together, we go back and forth between them - as two young people having feelings for each other - and them, in the context of her position as a Senator, and his position as a Jedi.

She's more disciplined, whereas he's naive, especially around her. He's never been in a situation like this before, so he’s falling in love, but he doesn’t really know it. And it is forbidden.

There are social barriers that have been put up and there's a practical reality of what would happen to them in the future, if they were to let their emotions run wild. 

They're both government officials who have made a commitment toward the Republic and its citizens. Seeing as neither of them is willing to quit, duty dictates that they renounce their love, and dedicate their lives selflessly to carrying on with their responsibilities.

After he spills his guts out to her and she refuses to go along with him, Anakin does realize that, yes, this would not be a good idea… because it would jeopardize his career, it'd jeopardize her, and it probably wouldn't be a good thing.

But they do love each other. They’re truly in love with each other.

It’s the issue of "true love over duty." It’s really the "Romeo and Juliet" aspect of it, of a doomed relationship, in more ways than one really.

And eventually... they give in. This culminates with an idyllic situation on Naboo, where Anakin and Padmé are getting married in what appears to be a somewhat happy ending.

But Anakin and Padmé's marriage is not gonna work. It is a complex, slightly dysfunctional relationship because, to Anakin, she’s much more than a wife. And it will only become clear too late to Padmé that she married the wrong guy.

It's only when you put it in the context of the bigger story that you see the handwriting on the wall.

You notice flaws in Anakin's personality that are going to sink him in the end, as hinted by his metal hand, and the fated "Darth Vader influence" it implies.

Anakin & Shmi - from love to attachment

When we're talking about Anakin's flaws, many of them are established in Episode II.

His emotions run amok... moreso now that he's falling in love.

He's undisciplined... as teenagers tend to be.

He's arrogant... but with exceptional powers like his (and the constant egging on from Palpatine), it's easy to see why.

However, there is, one flaw that comes back to haunt him, all the way back from Episode I. Anakin has a fear of losing things, namely the fear of losing his mother.

The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through his life and that he can’t hold onto things is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn’t willing to accept emotionally.

And as a result, he wants to begin to control things, he wants to become more powerful. And these are not Jedi traits.

Part of the reason for this flaw is because he was raised by his mother rather than the Jedi.

He started to be trained so late in life, that he had already formed these attachments. And for a Jedi, attachment is forbidden. You can love people, but you have to love them unconditionally, in terms that you can’t hold on to them.

If he’d have been taken in his first year and started to study to be a Jedi, he would have been trained to love people without getting attached to them.

But Anakin has confused possessive love with compassionate love.

Because he was unwilling to let go of his mother, because he was so attached to her, he committed this terrible revenge on the Tusken Raiders. This is the first act that ultimately takes him on the road to the Dark Side.

And in the aftermath of this... he is very sad and depressed. Horrified at his actions.

But what he’s really upset about is the fact that he’s not powerful enough. He voices jealousy and anger at Obi-Wan, he blames everyone else for his inability to be as powerful as he wants to be, and he hears all the time from Palpatine that he will be.

He tells himself that "if he had more power, he could’ve kept his mother, he could’ve saved her and she could’ve been in his life."

Down the line, he will also become attached to Padmé and these things are - for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments - a dangerous situation.

Because whereas a good Jedi overcomes their flaws and kinda goes above the normal human tragedy that most people have to experience, Anakin doubles down on this crucial flaw, which feeds into his fear of losing things, and grows into greed and wanting to keep his "possessions," and things that he should be letting go of.

Sources:

Attack of the Clones Commentary Tracks #1 and #2, 2002

Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of 'Attack of the Clones', 2002

Primissima, p. 32, May Issue, 2002 

LA Times, 2002

CNN, 2002

Attack of the Clones, “Story” Featurette, 2002

Starlog Magazine #337, 2005

Rolling Stone, 2005

The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

[dreameyess11]

LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

You stand in the center of the room, arms crossed, frustration simmering just beneath your skin. Leia, her little fists clenched at her sides, glares up at you with defiance sparking in her eyes. It’s been a long day, and you don’t have the patience for another one of her outbursts.

"Leia Skywalker," you say, voice firm. "How many times have I told you not to sneak out of the palace at night?"

"I wasn’t sneaking!" she fires back. "I just wanted to see the ships take off!"

Your jaw tightens. "That’s not the point, young lady. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is? What if something had happened to you? What if—"

And then it happens.

The way she tilts her chin up, the fire in her eyes, the sheer stubbornness in her expression—it stops you cold.

Because you’ve seen that exact look before.

On someone else.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen silent until a voice—deep, familiar—breaks through.

"She was just curious, love" Anakin says. "She’s got a strong spirit, that’s all."

You turn, and there he is. Standing just beyond the doorway, arms folded, watching the scene unfold with that mix of misplaced amusement and ill-advised sympathy. You give him a sharp look, and he hesitates, as if just now realizing he’s stepped onto a battlefield.

"Oh, don’t even start," you warn, voice low. "This is your fault."

Anakin blinks. "My fault?"

"Yes!" You throw a hand toward Leia, who watches the exchange with interest, clearly sensing the shift in the storm. "Do you see that face? That’s your face! That stubborn, reckless, I’ll do what I want look—she gets that from you!"

Anakin has the audacity to look confused. "Well… I mean… maybe a little?"

"A little?" You raise an eyebrow. "Anakin Skywalker, this is exactly how you looked when you told Obi-Wan, ‘Don’t worry, Master, I got this’ right before crashing into a droid battalion!"

Leia snickers. Anakin shoots her a quick look, like they’re suddenly allies in this war. You can see the silent exchange—We’re in this together, kid.

"You are not bonding over this!" you snap, pointing at both of them. "You do not get to encourage her!"

"I wasn’t—"

"You were!"

"I just—"

"Anakin!"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his head, finally conceding defeat. "Okay, okay. Maybe she got the stubbornness from me. But you have to admit, she gets her sharp mind and leadership from you."

You press your lips together, torn between lingering frustration and the warmth of that compliment. Leia, ever the opportunist, sees the distraction and makes her move.

"So… am I still grounded?" she asks hopefully.

You and Anakin turn to her at the same time.

"Yes!" you say in unison.

Leia groans, and Anakin grins at you behind her back. You shake your head, exasperated, but as you meet his gaze—those same blue eyes staring at you with that familiar mix of mischief and devotion—you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

You’re outnumbered.

And Force help you, it’s only going to get worse from here.

[phoenixyfriend]

Remember my post about Anakin pulling a Mike Murdock? Yeah, no, I have a full on AU concept now (with contributions by @threebea! indented)!

He lies so hard about having a brother that the universe invents a twin from scratch for him. It happens when Anakin is like twelve.

Anakin was just committing to the bit on a mission because he was bored.

The Force was also bored.

Oh no Anakin force manifests a sibling Obi-Wan: …That's not how the Force works. Anakin: You tell the Force that. Obi-Wan: Well, I suppose this would be your half-brother since the Force is your shared parent. Obi-Wan after the initial shock: This might as well happen.

New brother is better at some things and worse at others, as any person is. Anakin is, naturally, a fucking mess about all that, worries he'll be replaced, etc.

Obi-Wan just brings this to the Council and nobody can DENY this Skywalker from the Jedi after they already took the first one. So. Mace volunteers.

This Skywalker is a bit more Force than Anakin, got glowing eyes and visions and the Animal Communion buff. But is worse at flying, worse at tech, and unfathomably worse at people. Which is a FEAT, since Anakin's not too hot at social skills in the first place.

Mace has his hands full in many ways, including "keep this child from walking face first into the wall."

Obi-Wan: We are not calling him Anagain.

Anakin had many mixed feelings but! If he's going to have family then he's going to commit!

The other option is that the brother is younger by enough that the Older Brother instincts kick in, but I think the one-sided twin rivalry is funnier.

Anakin: I'm a big brother now. Anagain: I think we're supposed to be twins. Anakin: I have more worldly experience. Anagain: I'm taller. Anakin: wut Anagain: alpha twin alpha twin (that's his nickname until you come up with actual name lol) Obi-Wan: Well, I'm taller than both of you, and while that is the case you both need to listen to me. Anagain: (flash of foresight) So, not for long Obi-Wan: What? Anagain: Nothing. Mace: (the Shatterpoints are blinding) Yeah, I'll be taking this one. More seriously tho, Anakin definitely torn between what if everyone likes him better he's born from the force what if he's the chosen one what if and also: I have a brother I have family I need to take care of him. Probably some fun twin force bond too. Oh man Sheev after digesting all of that would definitely try to get some jealousy going.

Anakin talks about the new brother with terms like Freshly Hatched and Innocent Baby and it's mostly a joke except that now HE thinks Palps is a creep when it's aimed at Not Him.

Palpatine: When do I get to meet him? Anakin: [absolutely not] Mace won't let him [Yeah that'll work] Mace: Yeah, absolutely not, he didn't help save Naboo there's no reason for my Padawan to have a relationship with the Supreme Chancellor

I've decided to call the brother Aion (EY-yon). I like the whole thing about Anakin's name being based on Ananke, even if it's a disputed thing, so I go for Greek myth when doing alt names for siblings.

Mace still bitter about having to let Palps get time with Anakin not about to do the same if he can help it. Although that comic takes place later eh (handwaves) still The Jedi might try to be hush hush about where aion came from anyway since he would fall directly under Jedi business

Help I'm imagining Mace and Obi-Wan on a walk and the twins are on child leashes. Anakin because ADHD will have him trying to run off to look at something. And Aion because he's going to be so distracted by visions that he will walk into traffic.

"Can we send a letter to mom so she knows he exists?" The other thought was ANAKIN holding the child leash for Aion, and then Obi-Wan or Mace holding the one for Anakin. Lil chain.

Aion: Hey… I know I've only existed for a few months, and yes my memories of before are sort of built by the Force, but I'm pretty sure the Supreme Chancellor is evil. Mace: You saw that in a vision? Aion: No, he's just super creepy. Bad vibes.

Obi-Wan: Of course he's evil, he's a career politician. Anakin: What about your friend from Alderaan? Obi-Wan: That's different.

One of these boys is constantly zoning out. The other is smiling, but the smile contains murder.

They're both adhd but with wildly different sides of it.

EXACTLY

Also.

Aion: [silent, a bit upset but mostly chill] Anakin, holding his hand: He asked for no pickles!

[tennessoui]

45 svelte for the micro story?

Padmé blinks at the back of the young, svelte woman who slinks rather sulkily away from their table. "You know," she finally says, turning to look at Anakin with a furrowed brow. "I wouldn't be offended if you took her up on her offer, Ani. We've been divorced for two years now."

Which is practically longer than they were married for, in all fairness. She's pretty sure she sees Anakin more now that they're no longer together, even.

"Hm?" Anakin reluctantly tears his eyes away from the digital holo menu he's perusing. "What?" Padmé waves her hand to encompass the woman who has found some other willing ear at the bar counter. "She wanted to spend the night with you," Padmé says carefully. "I wouldn't be offended."

Anakin tilts his head, as if genuinely confused. "Who?"

"The woman," she says slowly. "Who just asked you for drinks at her table. She was flirting with you."

"I'm married," Anakin says blankly.

"No, you're not," Padmé reminds him, not unkindly. "We're divorced."

"Well, yeah," Anakin says. He puts down the menu and then looks over the crowded cantina with startling intent. Padmé isn't surprised by this in the slightest, of course. Master Kenobi is at the same cantina with a few friends of his own. As soon as she'd seen him in a corner, laughing with a handful of older Jedi she cannot name, she'd known she'd have roughly half of Anakin's attention all night. "But I'm married again."

He says this as if it makes perfect sense. As if it is old news.

"What?" Padmé asks, thankful that the bartending droid has not yet arrived with their drinks. Otherwise she may have spit it out of her mouth at his words. "Who have you married?"

Anakin blinks. "Well," he says, "Obi-Wan of course."

"Of course," Padmé repeats faintly. Now she wishes the bartending droid would hurry up and deliver her the balm she needs for this sort of conversation.

Anakin's face darkens though as his eyes catch upon his master--his husband?--in the corner. "I think I should go remind him though," he decides, tensing as if he is about to stand up. "He forgets sometimes."

Padmé can feel her mouth hanging open slightly, torn between utter bewilderment and strange concern. "Wait, Ani," she says. "He...forgets that you are married?" Surely her ex-husband deserves better than that. Marriage was important to him when she was his wife. Surely that hasn't changed in the intervening years. What sort of loveless, suspect relationship has his old master dragged him into?

"He calls it a hostage situation," Anakin says fondly, and his eyes look brighter when they flick back to hers. "We were married for a mission and I just keep hiding the divorce papers in places he's too short to reach."

Padmé blinks. "I...see."

"But it was his idea in the first place," Anakin adds, rather smugly. "I told him we were divorced, you and me, and then the next day, he brought me in front of the Council for a mission off-planet where we were to pretend to be married. He said he'd better get it all sorted out before I ran off with anyone else."

"Here you are," the bartending droid beeps as it places their two drinks in front of them. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Yes," Padmé says. "About four more of these, thank you."

[Prompt from this list of Micro-Stories prompts]

[adragonsfriend]

Padme was not a Witness

I will never join the “Padmé was stupid to go to Mustafar” parade—she had valid reason to believe in the possibility of Anakin’s redemption—but there’s something awful in the fact that she didn’t have to witness either of his massacres.

Obi-Wan and Yoda walk past the bodies of their people—of their people’s children. Bail Organa goes to the temple and sees a kid get shot down trying to escape (more clones than Anakin, but still).

Padme hears about the second massacre after sitting in her apartment while the Temple was on fire. She’s told about them in vague terms. “I killed them like animals,” “he killed younglings,” She has a touch of denial when she goes to Mustafar partly because of her belief in Anakin, but partly because—I think—the Tuskan Massacre was never fully real to her. She understands it intellectually of course, but violence on that scale is difficult to conceptualise without seeing it, especially if it’s easier to just let it go. If she’d seen the bodies? Or seen Anakin kill them? She watched that one refugee kid die slowly, not at all violently, when she was working with the refugee organisation, and it affected her for the rest of her life. It is not a lack of caring on Padmé’s part that’s the problem.

Imagine being Obi-Wan listening to Padme saying “there’s still good in him,” after walking through the Temple, seeing the lightsaber marks on knights and children alike—not even to mention seeing her get strangled. It sounds not only wild, but honestly deeply offensive on more levels than one (besides the obvious issues it’s another, “train the boy,” prioritise Anakin over everything moment, except this time Obi-wan’s entire world has been torn apart, rather than just losing his Master)

If Padmé had actually been a witness to Anakin’s violence? If it was made present and visceral to her?

I think her opinions and her actions would’ve been different.

Thematically, it is crucial that when Luke goes to the second Death Star, he is under no illusions about who Anakin is or what he’s done, and in his most desperate moment he chooses to ask Anakin for help anyway. Padmé goes to him still a bit in denial, still a bit convinced things can return to how they once were. When she starts to push at the illusion, Anakin accuses her of betraying him and strangles her to shut her up, attempting to preserve the illusion (the difference between Anakin’s state at the time of his confrontations with Padmé and Luke is a whole other, very important topic). In part, her illusion allows Anakin to believe he can preserve the past (to be clear—he is the only one responsible for the choice to strangle her; Padme being imperfect is not an excuse for domestic abuse).

Side note, but if anyone is not sufficiently freaked out by Anakin strangling Padmé, it's important to know that strangulation is one of the flashing red warnings that physical abuse is doing to turn deadly, very, very quickly.

Luke’s complete and honest knowledge of Anakin’s worst self means there is nothing for Anakin to lose except his son, exactly as he is. No illusions, no wonderful past, not even any good memories together. Just his son.

To me, that’s one of several reasons (both thematic and logistical) why Padmé’s plea fails where Luke’s succeeds. None of those reasons has anything to do with her being stupid to go in the first place.

(There are some wonderful fanfics out there that show Padmé actually making her disapproval about the Tuskan massacre—both despite and because of her love—actively known during their marriage, and I think that interpretation of her is a stronger character than ROTS gives us, and more in line with what we’re shown in the first movie)

[teaandjumpers]

ooooo i wish you would write a fic where obi-wan was the stoic bodyguard to bratty popstar anakin (or some other modern au equivalent of obi-wan brawling to keep anakin out of danger) 😋😋😋

This is probably not what you had in mind, anon, but this is what came out! (mind the tags) - - - -

Obikin Rock Star(ish) Au

Anakin rushed off the stage, sweat stinging his eyes and damp hair sticking to his skin. 

The crowd was still roaring behind him, adrenaline still pumping through his blood making his skin feel tight, restricting. 

He had been preparing to settle in for the night, a bowl of Top Ramen already spinning in the microwave, when Rex had called him asking him to fill in for Fives, his lead guitarist. Anakin didn’t play guitar anymore, especially not now at the tail-end of his undergrad degree, the projects and grad school applications piling up, but he owed Rex. 

And this was the big summer festival lineup; he knew what this gig meant to Rex and the band. So he dug out his electric guitar, wore his most threadbare band tee and a pair of faded torn jeans and got a ride to the venue. 

Ahsoka met him at the side entrance and ushered him through, twirling her drumsticks nervously. She had sent him the setlist earlier and he fingered the frets of his guitar in the backseat of the Uber, much to the annoyance of his driver. 

He knew the songs by heart—he’d helped write some of them back in the day, cringe-worthy, melodramatic lyrics that Cody, their lead singer, miraculously elevated.  

On stage, there were a few kinks with the first song, but they still worked well together, the four of them having played endless rotations across dozens of local haunts during their first two years of university before Fives showed up to take his spot as bassist.

By the second song, Anakin found that even his backing vocals weren’t as bad off as he had thought, his voice only breaking during the highest notes of “I Hate Sand.”

“Great work, Flogging Hogs,” said the handsome man with locs striding past them towards the stage. He was followed by a bald statuesque woman who was close on his heels, only turning to give Ahsoka an unimpressed look. 

“We’re the Hogging Flogs!” Ahsoka called out, but her words were swallowed by the eruption of cheers for the festival headliner, Republic’s Finest.  

They had always been too mainstream for Anakin, but his high school girlfriend always had their music playing in the background and had even tried to convince Anakin to go to one of their concerts with her. But he just couldn’t get into a band whose most popular track was a blues-rock-ballad called “Infinite Sadness” (even if it was from an earlier album before they truly found their sound). 

The band was a duo now, the former lead singer having left for the theater or something, leaving the other guy to take his place.

An assistant ushered them into the green room where a table of Gatorade and beer awaited them along with protein bars, bananas, and tubes of mini M&Ms. Anakin opted for the  Gatorade, chugging down half of it before realizing he’d left his guitar case in the wing of the stage. 

He rushed back through the narrow hallways, careful not to spill his drink as he dodged the many cables crisscrossing the floors backstage. 

Intent on not tripping over any wires, and still a little blissed out from an amazing show, Anakin completely missed the hulking figure that stood between him and his guitar case. He ran into the man, chest first, open bottle of Gatorade spilling between them, coating the expensive looking light-gray vest the other man was wearing. 

The man towered over Anakin, and his voice boomed despite the sound of the heavy blues-rock coming from the stage. 

“When did they start letting civilians backstage,” said the man, scowling at Anakin as he wiped the liquid off his chest with sharp brushes of his hand. 

“I’m with a band,” said Anakin defensively, regretting it immediately.

This man looked important. An agent maybe? Or some kind of studio head? He didn’t want to ruin the band’s reputation before they even made a name for themselves. Playing at a festival was huge, but it was a stepping stone for what the band really wanted—a gig as a long-term opening act for a big band. 

“A roadie,” Anakin lied, hoping he said it convincingly enough for the man to buy it. 

And it seemed that he did. His eyes took on a different glint, the annoyance turning into something predatory. 

“Give me your shirt,” he said, gesturing to his own clothes. “To clean up this mess.”

Anakin gaped at the man before turning to see if anyone near him had heard the man’s ridiculous request.

There were some sound technicians closer to the edge of the stage, but everyone else was huddled in small circles, determined to ignore the scene playing out in front of them. 

Begrudgingly and with heat prickling at his neck, Anakin peeled the shirt off his back, determinedly avoiding the other man’s gaze as he held the garment out to him. 

The man grabbed the shirt, but he didn’t use it to clean himself off. Instead, he threw it behind him while he advanced on Anakin, his eyes raking up his long frame appreciatively. 

"Have you ever thought of being something more than a technician," the man asked, voice close and low. 

Anakin shuddered away, looking back at the hallway that led to the green room. He didn’t want to bring this mess to the band, and he didn’t want to make a scene, but this creep kept advancing, pushing him into a dark, curtained corner. 

Just as the man brought a hand to his neck, a light accented voice rung out behind them. 

“I thought Quinlan banned you from our performances, Krell,” said the voice. 

The man, Krell, turned, revealing a shorter man with bright copper hair and a short well-kept beard. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was watching Krell with sharp, calculating eyes. 

“Did Broadway let you loose already, Kenobi?” Krell asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “Did they realize you were a hack all along.”

The man laughed in response, his head thrown back and teeth shining under the dim lights hanging overhead. 

“Not at all,” said Kenobi. “I’m just here to support the band.”

“Support them all you want,” said Krell, turning to face Anakin again, curling his palm around his neck.

“For fuck’s sake,” said Kenobi before squeezing between Anakin and Krell. He gripped the man’s forearm and pulled at it until Krell released his hold. 

“Leave before I call security,” said Kenobi, his tone cool and even. “And before I tell Asajj to post about this on her socials.”

The man sneered at him, holding Kenobi’s gaze for a long moment before turning and leaving in a huff. 

Kenobi turned to face Anakin, the ire in his voice now gone.

“If you’d like to file a report—” began Kenobi, his voice gentle, but Anakin shook his head in response. 

"I just want to get back to my band."

He rubbed at this neck, the same spot Krell had grabbed earlier. 

"You're with one of the bands?” asked Kenobi, his face lighting up. 

"Yeah," said Anakin. "Filling in for someone. We’re the—uh—the Hogging Flogs." His cheeks burned hot as he said the name.

"Ah, yes. I saw your name in the lineup. I’m also here filling in as you say. Well, more like making an appearance."

Anakin finally took a moment to really look at the man. While he was never a fan of their music, the cute frontman from Republic's Finest never slipped his notice, especially not when the man played such a prominent role in his queer awakening. Sure, the beard was new and he had a few grays, but he still had those same bright blue eyes that used to stare out at him from the posters pinned to Padme's walls. 

"Oh my god," he said. "You’re him. You’re the old frontman." 

The man’s eyebrows flew up at the word old. "I suppose I must seem old to an 18-year old."

"Twenty-two," said Anakin. 

"My girlfriend was obsessed with you," he continued. "Former girlfriend. I’m bi now. I was then, too. I just didn’t know it." 

Dear god, he was babbling. But the man didn’t seem to mind, his smile only growing wider the longer Anakin spoke. 

"And I’m Obi-Wan."

A sharp cheer erupted from the stage and there was a short lull before the man on stage, presumably Quinlan, started addressing the crowd. 

"And I have an appearance to make," he said, turning back to look at the stage. 

His eyes flicked across Anakin’s bare chest, and he bit his lip before removing the crewneck sweater he was wearing and handing it to Anakin. 

It was band merch—a Republic’s Finest sweater. Anakin hadn’t noticed the band’s logo until just then. 

“It was meant to be a joke,” said Obi-Wan. “But I think you need it more than I do.” 

"I can’t," said Anakin, attempting to return the sweater, but Obi-Wan pushed it back towards him, pressing the fabric against Anakin’s chest. 

“Keep it,” said Obi-Wan, already half way across the wing, ready to leap onto the stage. “Red’s not really my color, anyway!”

[anilovie]

My Love, My Life

Summary: You and Anakin are on a supply-run and get caught in a storm, forcing you to find shelter amidst growing tensions.

WC: 9.3k

CW: MDNI, pwp, oral (f recieving), mild size kink, shared shower, lots of fluff

AN: I swear this whole thing was revealed to me in a vision.

You and Anakin had been watching the weather closely since being sent out in the dingy little transport ship. The mission was to deliver supplies and medical aid to an incognito Obi-Wan on the planet Leaze— before the storm got bad enough where travel became impossible. 

It was a simple mission, if not complicated by the sudden turn in their seasons, bringing forth a front of strong winds and heavy rains. Anakin could have even come himself, but the two of you played up the extent of Obi-Wan’s sustained injuries so that the Council would feel the need to send a medic – you – along for the ride as well. Any opportunity for you and Anakin to spend time together, you exploited. 

Really, Obi-Wan just sprained a wrist. He was low on food, water ammo, batteries, and his clothes had been all torn up in a nasty skirmish with some bounty hunters. “A joyride,” Anakin referred to this mission as. That is, until you began the descent into Leaze’s misty, swirling skies.

In between tracking his location and watching the weather radar, Anakin’s focus was on bringing you down to the ground safely — with a little more emphasis on safe, since you were here. Thus, his hands gripped the controls with a bit more force than normal, jaw clenched and brows furrowed as he met each gust of wind with a controlled parry. He pulled the shuttle through the misty skies, stabilizing the rocking foundations through the whipping winds that threatened to toss you right out of the air.

You weren’t sure how he could even see. The rain and leaves that had stuck to the window obliterated any view– he likely wasn’t even trying to see. You realized this as he answered Obi-Wan’s incoming call without even sparing a glance out the window, fingers flying over the dashboard, weathering the elements through intellect and feeling alone. 

“Anakin, Y/n, I trust that you’ve made it here safely,” Obi-Wan’s hologram displayed before you and Anakin. He looked alright – his disguise was off, for now, and he seemed to be someplace warm and out of the rain, a complete juxtaposition to the two of you.

As soon as the words warbled through, something slammed into the shuttle, rocking the foundations with an ominous groan as you began to plummet.

Anakin swore and yanked on the yoke, flicking some switches on the dashboard. “Working on it,” he bit through clenched teeth, huffing as the inferior ion engines sputtered and popped to life, breaking your fall. The shull continued to rattle and jerk, throwing you around in your seat despite being fully strapped up. 

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Well, once you make it to the ground, don’t bother coming to my location. The storm is worse than the reports have indicated. Find shelter for yourselves – I can hold out another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’ll do more harm than good forcing you out there in these conditions. I am safe where I am.”

“Which is where?”

The transmission cut out for a moment, shuttering off and on again as sheets of rain pelted the aluminum roof. You caught the last half of his explanation. “--they offered a room for the night, though at a high price. I hope you brought extra credits.”

“Some,” Anakin grit. 

“Perfect. Well, I won’t keep distracting you. It looks like you��ve got your hands full,” Obi-Wan bid goodbye, his cheery tone outlandish among your current predicament. “Happy landings,” he bid, and the transmission cut off.

Your fingers dug into your armrests, trusting Anakin’s skill to see that wish through. He was still deeply concentrated, and more than a little stressed as he pulled the yoke and typed over multiple colorful buttons. 

“Well, at least he’s safe,” you offered offhandedly, trying to diffuse the tension. Another hard gust of wind slammed into the hull, this time on your side, followed by a hard sheet of rain. You flinched. 

The lights had begun to flicker a while ago, and now they shut off completely, leaving you in the pitch black. Your sharp intake of air was audible, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach as the assault on the ship heightened.

“It’s okay, I did that on purpose,” Anakin explained. You could hear the strain in his voice, the clacking of his fingers over the overworked dashboard. “We need more power to the engines and thrusters. It’ll be a bumpy landing either way, but–”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked. 

“We’re almost there…”  

Bracing yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the armrests, anticipation swirling around in your gut. You trusted him. You didn’t have to be so afraid. It was the weather you didn’t trust. Maker forbid you land in a pit of mud, swallowed up before you could escape. 

A sudden jolt threw you forward, the sickening screech of bolts and rods fighting to hold the metal panels of the shuttle together drowning out all other senses. Inertia pushed you forward in your seat, and you would have gone flying out the windshield if it weren’t for the double straps tightened over your chest, the lap belt, and the death grip you had on your armrests.

Slowly, the sliding of the shuttle ship began to slow, the tension in the shuttle easing, parts settling back into place. Then, the sounds of the vicious rain pelting the roof returned, your body relaxing against the seat with a huff, blinking your eyes open to the pitch blackness of the hull.

“You okay?” Anakin worried, clicking out of his own seatbelt to reach for you. 

You followed suit, fingers fumbling around in the dark for the clasps that would free you. “All good,” you released one set of straps, and Anakin found the two others for you. “Thanks.”

Another gust of wind nudged the shull forward, groaning under the pressure. Some lights flickered on, and there was Anakin fiddling with the control panel overhead so you could see. 

“I don’t think we can stay here for very long, unfortunately,” he said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so stressed. “The ship appears to be sinking. We’ll have to pack a bag and get going.”

Abandon ship? In these conditions?

Again, your unshakable trust in him erased any fear in your mind. He’d done far riskier and more dangerous things – his own fear now was because of you. You’re safety. 

But you were fine – just a little shaky as you stood and reached for the supply crates in the back, rifling through them for necessities, tossing them to Anakin to shove into a bag. You managed to get half of what you’d originally planned to drop off for Obi-Wan into two bags. Anakin shrugged the larger one over his shoulders, and you took the smaller one.

You’d both come prepared, already wearing rain ponchos, but it seemed like they’d do little good as Anakin kicked the stuck door open. The sound of the rain coming down was deafening, a roaring torrent that could easily sweep you away. 

“Hold on to me,” Anakin yelled over the sound, and you hooked an arm around his, pulling you out of the ship with him.

Mud and rain splattered your face as your boots met the ground, and he immediately took off, dragging you with him. Again, your blind faith in him came in handy. All you could focus on was spluttering around the rain for any pocket of air you could find, trying to keep upright as your heels slipped and skidded in the mud, hoping you weren’t slowing Anakin down.

Of course you were slowing him down. You were no Jedi. But you both knew that, and he didn’t mind. Just wanted you out of the wind and rain so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

After what seemed like ages of the two of you fighting through the elements, narrowly avoiding trees and branches and sharp rocks, Anakin pointed out an abandoned shed in the distance. He ran for it, pulling you under the awning with him so he could pound on the door.

“No one’s here,” he spoke after a moment as you were still wiping water out of your eyes. Something clicked in the door, unlocking so Anakin could open it up and peer inside.

He found the light switch on the wall, flipping it up and down uselessly. “Power’s out,” he mumbled, searching around in the force for some mechanism of light. Apparently finding something, he released your hand. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood shivering by the closed door, dripping a puddle of water onto the ground as you waited for him to return. With your sight gone, your other senses were heightened – you could smell the dust of furniture long forgotten, hear the creeks of unkempt floorboards as Anakin explored the shed, and feel the bone-cold chill of the storm seeping in under the crack in the door. Wherever you were, it was very old, and likely abandoned.

Anakin came back around the corner brandishing a candle, shielding the flame with one hand as he made his way back to you.

“This looks like it was somebody’s home at one point,” he thought aloud, pointing to the way he just came. “That’s a kitchen over there, and there’s a loft with a bed in the back. Pretty sure I saw a shower, too. I can probably get the pumps running long enough to make use of it.”

You wouldn’t question how he could do that– sometimes it seemed like he had magical powers, even without the force. 

“Is there a fireplace?” you wondered, shaking off your drenched poncho and stepping further in now that you could see. “Maybe I could heat up some water to use, warm this place up a bit, too.”

Anakin held the candle out before him, casting shadows over the interior of the little shed. Right in front of the door was a wooden stairway – more of a ladder – that led to what you assumed was an attic. Deciding to avoid any bats or rodents, you agreed to keep that shut and rounded the ladder to what looked like a tiny living room opposite the kitchen, separated by a thin wall.

A couple threadbare sofa-chairs sat dusty and weathered on the dull carpet, a table set before the both of them, and – jackpot – a little stone fireplace in the corner.

“The wood from outside is too wet to burn,” Anakin poked at the empty log pit. “But I could break down that table and use it as fuel…”

“Good idea,” you chirped, taking the candle from Anakin to free up his hands for the task. “I’ll go look for more candles and matches.”

The kitchen was just as tiny, standing room only and no dining table. It consisted of a slab of wood for a counter, an empty ice box that was cracked down the middle, and some drawers which were also mostly empty.

One of the cupboard up top held a few random supplies, mostly rubber bands and bottle caps and dead batteries. But amid that was a bag of little tea candles, a few larger ones made of a slippery wax, and a box of matches. Half were no good, but you only needed to light one and then share the flame with all the others.

You planted the tea candles around on various surfaces, lighting the space up as Anakin broke down the table. You threw some old papers you’d found bunched in a drawer into the fireplace for more starter fuel, scratching another match to life against the grated box once Anakin dropped a leg of the table into the fire. You tossed the match in after it, satisfied when the flame caught the edge of the papers and flared to life, enveloping the wooden leg.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed, holding your hands out to warm by the flame. 

“Mmhm,” he agreed, crouched beside you. He stared, mesmerized by the flames for a long moment before suddenly standing. “Alright, I’m gonna go look at the pipes. Will you be okay for now?”

“Yup,” you nodded cheerily. “Where are the pipes?”

“There’s a cellar out back. Should be down there.”

“Oh…” this time, your shiver wasn’t from the cold. “Want me to go with you? Sounds kinda creepy.”

Anakin huffed a laugh, running a hand down the back of your head affectionately. “No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you. Want you to stay here and warm up.”

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Perfect,” he brought you toward him with that hand, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Now alone, you fed the fire with some more wood from the table, crouching down before the bags to get out your and Anakin’s spare set of clothes. You hung them up on the sill of the fireplace, weighing them down with the candles so they could dry. 

There were a couple of large buckets beside the fireplace, probably meant for gathering wood. You took one and set it outside to collect rainwater. It didn’t take very long at all – it filled up from the downpour within minutes, and you hung it up on the metal rod above the fire to boil for drinking water.

Then you grabbed one of the thicker candles to light your way to the back of the shed. The floorboards lifted slightly back here, half of a wall hiding the bedroom from the rest of the interior. 

The bed was quite large for such a small space, half-made with a quilted cover. It looked all dusty and gross, so you tore it off and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the space, praying for some spare sheets.

Luck seemed to be on your side. There was a set of sheets, blankets, and even a couple of pillows stowed away atop the first shelf in the closet. You had to strain on your tiptoes to reach them, but eventually knocked them down to your height. You took them to the living room and shook them out, making sure no dust or any bugs hid inside, then brought them back to the room and made the bed.

It was a lot more than you were hoping for, for an abandoned shed in the depths of the forest.

With the bed all made and Anakin not back yet, you decided to use the old dirty blanket to wipe down the interior of the bathroom. There was a shower – if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was just a spigot attached to the wall with a drain beneath, the floor here made of smooth rock rather than wood. But if Anakin could get it to work, and you warmed up some more water over the fire, you could have a real, warm shower using the soap you’d brought from the ship. 

The sound of the door opening let in the roar of the rain once more. Anakin closed it behind him, shaking water out of his hair.. “Good news,” he called, voice carrying from the door to the bedroom in the small shed. “There’s a water heater down there that I got working, as well as the pipes. I just have to fill the tank and we’re good to go.”

“Ohh,” you cooed excitedly, rounding the corner to meet him again. “I found a bucket we could use– hold on.” You grabbed the spare bucket from the fireplace and handed it to him. “The bed’s all set, I found some clean sheets and cleaned up the bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the kitchen or anywhere else,” you shrugged. “But I think this will do pretty well for the night.”

“I think so, too,” Anakin said, and despite the howling wind and icy rain pounding into the roof and threatening to shatter the windows, he smiled. 

He left to go fill the tank, and you laid out the rest of the supplies before the fire. The bigger bag was for Obi-Wan– those things you didn’t touch. But you and Anakin had a couple extra blankets, some food, a blaster, maps, and your medical supplies. Most of it survived the rain.

By the time Anakin came back, you were still sitting before the fire, occasionally feeding it with more scraps of wood and poking it around with a longer piece. He kicked the mud and dirt off his boots at the door before coming in, shrugging off his poncho. 

“Alright, bad news…” he started this time. You turned to look at him. “The heater is the slowest thing I’ve ever come across. It’ll take hours. I don’t think showers are in the cards for us tonight.”

You twisted your lips, trying not to seem too disappointed. “Bummer.” 

All you wanted to do was get out of these sticky, soaking wet clothes and immerse yourself in a warm shower. But at least he tried, and it really wasn’t the end of the world.

“Maybe in the morning,” you reasoned, trying to stay positive. He joined you by the fire as you tugged on the clothes you’d hung up, seeing if they were ready. “At least these are dry, and warm now. That’s better than nothing.”

“It is. Smart girl,” he tilted your face toward his with a finger, crouched before you again. His lips met yours – wet meeting dry, cold meeting warm. It took you by surprise a little bit, the intensity he kissed you with out of nowhere. But you responded in earnest, as if the simple touch of your flesh could warm him from the torrents coming down outside. 

After a long moment, he pulled back an inch, mumbling against your mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah?”

You nodded silently, standing once he gave you room to take the clothes down from the fire. 

You’d been on missions with Anakin before, just the two of you. But nothing like this – so raw, so intimate, so secluded from the rest of the world. You could feel a strange tension in the air between you two, not bad. Just… different. Like there was an energy pulsing alive, waiting for something to snap.

You’d been with Anakin for a few months now, and in love with each other for far longer. But… you’d never truly been with him yet. In any way. 

He knew you weren’t ready, and explained you could take it slow. As slow as you wanted. He, of course, was already experienced, and that intimidated you. Which is why it had been months, and you still hadn’t made a move to progress things. Just the thought of doing those things with him made you impossibly nervous.

But lately, like now, you were thinking about it more and more. You couldn’t do this with anyone else, you thought. Just Anakin. You loved him more than life itself, and your ability to express that with words or innocent touches was growing limited. 

You wanted more of him. And you wanted him to have more of you.

What are you thinking? You shook the thoughts out of your head as you took your clothes into the bathroom to change. These thoughts had nothing to do with the predicament you found yourselves in. The last thing he was thinking about was sex.

In fact, upon exiting the bathroom, you found him already changed into his dried pair of pants and nothing else, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you with a tired, slumped look in his eyes.

He’d given you his spare shirt to wear since it was bigger and warmer than yours, and he wasn’t going to wear it anyways. You also had on a pair of shorts, the comfy ones you brought for sleeping since you thought you’d be in an inn right now. 

You approached him slowly, shadows cast over his face from the candlelight, flickering off the walls. The air was a bit chillier back here, away from the fire that you’d let simmer to embers for now. Naturally, you gravitated toward his shirtless form, slotting yourself in the space he’d opened up for you between his knees, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What an odd change of plans,” you muttered into his hair softly.

His flesh hand found your back, holding you close as he nestled his head against your chest. “Agreed.”

You remained like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and rain-damp hair, listening to the constant thrum of the downpour above, the gusting wind in the trees. 

“You tired?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You liked how it looked dark and burnished in the candlelight, holding the shape of a ringlet curl as you wrapped and uncoiled it from around your finger. 

“Very,” he breathed, turning his face into your neck to leave a kiss on your collarbone. “C’mere.”

Both of his wrapped around your back, securely holding you to him as he fell backward onto the bed, with you on top of him. You laughed, steadying yourself with your arms on either side of his head, ducking down to plant a sweet kiss above his brows. 

“You’re not even on the bed,” you pointed out, referring to his legs which were still on the floor. You pulled back the covers, and you both slipped under, instantly finding the spot between his chest and shoulder to lay your head. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you snuggly into his side, allowing you to slot one of your legs between his. 

This is how it always was when you and him could truly be alone, uninterrupted, with no threat of someone finding you out. It was a rare moment, which is why your skin sang with every inch it pressed against his, heart soaring in your chest as your body seemed to settle so perfectly against his, erasing any doubt in your mind that any of this could be a mistake.

Before long, and without even realizing, you slipped into a deep sleep. Despite the harsh weather outside, you’d never felt so comfortable, wrapped up in warmth and darkness. That is, until Anakin woke with a start, wrenching you out of your slumber.

“What issit?” you slurred, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t like when he’d have nightmares, where you’d usually wake up before him due to his tossing and turning and mumbling. This was sudden – like something had possessed him, stolen all the air from his lungs as wide eyes turned to you.

“The transmitter,” he said, throwing the blankets off of him and getting out of bed. Your head was still lagging behind, having no idea what he meant.

“What transmitter?”

“The one on the ship. The only way we can contact Obi-Wan. We left it behind.”

He was already pulling on his boots and reaching for his other shirt, sparing no time. You pushed yourself further up in bed, swiping your hair out of your face. “D’you have to get it now? Can it wait till the morning?”

“The ship was sinking when we left it. It could be buried in mud right now,” he rushed the words out, grabbing his utility belt from the sill and securing it around his waist. “I’ll be back in an hour. Go back to bed… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” you were already swinging your legs off the bed too, about to stand up when Anakin put a hand on your shoulder. It was dark now, the candles having been blown out without you realizing, and you could barely see his face.

“No. Stay here. I don’t want you out there, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s just some rain,” your argument sounded meek, even to you. “Come on, Anakin, I don’t want you to go alone. ‘S not fair.”

“Fair?” 

“You shouldn’t have to be out there while I stay here and sleep. I won’t be able to, anyway. It is dangerous, so I should come with you, in case something happens.”

“Y/n. No,” he said sternly, and you flinched. A heavy pause hung between you, where you searched for what to say among the scattered thoughts in your brain. He’d never been stern with you before. Ever. 

“I won’t be gone long. I promise I’ll be there and back as fast as I can. Okay?”

“But,” you insisted stubbornly, desperately fighting back the sting in your eyes. “I want to go with you, Anakin. I want to help you.”

You tried to stand up again, but the hold he had on your shoulders wouldn’t let you. You tried to fight back the emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill over your eyes at his defiance. He was too strong, his word absolute– and for once, you couldn’t sway him.

The thought of him out there, alone in the dark and cold and rain… it killed you.

You grasped at his wrists, still holding onto your shoulders, and squeezed as if you could keep him there. As if he wasn’t laughably stronger than you, and could pull away from your touch without realizing you were trying.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? This isn’t like you,” his words came out hushed now. Worried. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sniffed, lip beginning to wobble. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s scary out there.

“I won’t. I promise… I’ll be okay. You’ll see,” he kissed the stray tear that squeezed out of your eye, collecting it with his lips before it could trail a path down your cheek. You tried to steady your breathing, shaky as it dragged in and out of your lungs, quelling the rising feeling of dread and fear.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you back into bed, on your back, tucking the sheets in around you nice and tight. Tight enough so that you couldn’t get out, perhaps. Whimpering in defeat, you felt another few tears squeeze out of your eyes, turning your head away from him to bury into the pillow.

“Don’t do this,” Anakin murmured, stroking a hand over your hair. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Fine,” you snipped, immediately regretting it. “‘M sorry… just don’t get hurt. Come back.”

“I will,” he whispered, and trailed warm kisses down your temple. 

And then he was gone.

His voice, his touch, his scent, his warmth – all of it, vanished like it had never been there to begin with.

It’s not the fact that he’d left to go do something dangerous on his own – it was the fact that he was out there all alone, in a terrible storm, fighting through the unpredictability of the elements. It had been violent for the short time you’d been out there earlier, the rain pelting your skin so hard it stung, the mud sticking to your boots, refusing to let you move, the wind nearly toppling you over if Anakin hadn’t been there to steady you.

You could have gone with him. You could have kept up. And Maker forbid anything happen to him – if he got stuck, trapped somewhere, if a tree came down over him, if he got lost and couldn’t find his way–

You couldn’t stay in bed. Half of you wanted to pull your boots on too and meet him out there, but you knew that was a stupid decision. You didn’t have his sense of direction, the built in radar that he had. And even as you peered through the cloudy window to the outside world, you knew it would be in vain. The night forest was alive with shuttering tree limbs, branches fighting each other in the sky as the terrible wind tossed them around. The rain never let up, the same suffocating sheet of water dumping from the moonless sky above.

Anakin was far gone at this point. You could only sit by the window, alone in the cold, dusty dark, until he returned.

The sleeves of your – Anakin’s – shirt had grown damp by the time you spotted his figure appear out of the trees. 

It startled you at first, worried some stranger had come across the shed in the same way you and Anakin had, and was now heading this way to seek shelter. Once he arrived, he might find you here, and maybe he’d try to hurt you.

You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and grabbed for the water-logged blaster you’d set on the floor, shaking out some raindrops and hoping it wasn’t one of the things that got destroyed by the rain. 

Your worry was for naught - the closer the figure grew, the more you recognized the height, shape, and gait of Anakin Skywalker. The hood of his poncho was pulled up over his head, but it did little good as the wind tugged and pulled at it, letting the rain drench his face anyway.

You set the blaster down and met him by the door, pulling it open to reveal him soaked to the bone and panting. He truly had run the whole way.

“Anakin,” you started, trying to stay out of his way so he could take off his poncho and boots without spraying you with water. “Are you okay? Did you get the transmitter?”

“I made it just in time,” he explained, reaching into his belt pocket and brandishing the little metal device. Such a small thing, important enough to risk his life over. 

At least, to him it was.

“You must be freezing,” you muttered, still upset at the fact that you hadn’t shared in his suffering. You hated seeing him go through these things alone. You should have been with him. 

“The heaters have probably had enough time to warm the water up,” his attempt to distract you didn’t go unnoticed. “You wanna go check for me?”

You whispered, “okay,” and flit back to the bedroom, lighting a couple of candles inside so you could see. The spigot was stuck in place due to years of sitting unused and abandoned, but eventually you managed to wrench it to the side, almost splattering yourself with brown water.

Your face crinkled in disgust, but soon it began to run clear. You tested the temperature with your fingertips, pleased to feel that it was warm.

Anakin rounded the corner, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s warm,” you pulled your hand away and wiped it dry on your shorts. “You should get in quick so it’s not wasted.”

“Wanna join me?”

His offer caught you by surprise.

Join him? In the shower? As in… naked?

The look on your face must have given your thoughts away. He chuckled and reached toward one of the tea lights you’d just lit, snuffing the flame out between two gloved fingers. “I can turn off the lights…” he teased.

Damn him. As if you weren’t already flustered – 

The steady trickle of the spigot remained at your back, seducing you to the warmth of the shower. It would feel so good to be able to wash up. And with there only really being enough time for one shower… it would make sense for the both of you to just do it together.

But Anakin had never seen you without clothes before. And you hadn’t prepared for that to happen today.

“Yes… no…?” he drawled, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the other candle. Like the first, he pinched the flame out, blanketing the room in darkness. The sound of the floorboards creaking was the only way you knew he was approaching, tensing as you felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll behave.”

You were still upset with him being stern with you earlier. And even more upset that he didn’t let you go with him. 

But something about his honey-smooth voice reduced you to putty in his hands. Warmth budded and bloomed deep in your stomach, and a certain resolve passed over you. You didn’t want to be upset anymore. You wanted this. 

“Okay,” you whispered, fingers finding Anakin’s at the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t miss his slight inhale.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you tugged the hem up yourself, urging him to guide the material over your head. 

The darkness of the room was the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort, knowing he couldn’t truly see you just yet. You knew, logically, that he could fathom things in his mind without having to see them, but purposely ignored that fact.

You weren’t sure where your shirt landed, as he’d been the one to tug your arms out himself. Riding the adrenaline high, you slipped your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and pushed them down, kicking them somewhere in the corner.

And there you were, standing completely naked in front of Anakin Skywalker – your love, your life – for the first time ever.

Again, the only reason you could really do this right now was because it was pitch black in the room. You only had enough nerve to then reach for him, hand finding the soaking wet material of his own shirt as you shivered in the cold.

“Hurry up and get undressed, I wanna get in,” you pleaded. He’d gone eerily silent.

At your request, he started into motion. You could hear the sounds of his wet clothes slopping to the ground heavily, trying to fight the blush off of your face as you turned around to pull the spigot further. The water began to rain down in a warm current now, and you stepped underneath to douse yourself in the glorious heat.

“Where are yo–? oh,” you jumped as you felt his hands find their way around your waist, his naked chest pressed up against your back. The water sprayed over the both of you, trickling down his body to fall onto yours, shivering at the added heat.

The blood in your face grew warmer, trying not to think about how close his hands were to two very sensitive parts of your body. They spanned almost the whole length of your torso, tummy twisting as you realized just how big he was. Just how strong.

But he chose to be gentle with you.

Trying to steady your breathing, you reached for the soap you’d stowed away in the notch in the wall, flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Anakin trailed his fingers down your arm, taking the bottle from you and setting it down again. 

You rubbed the soap between your hands, letting the excess drip down your body so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then, you began rubbing the suds all into your skin, feeling impossibly feverish at the predicament.

It just felt… wrong, somehow, to be touching yourself like this in front of Anakin. Even if you were just washing up.

His hands had returned to your waist, and you smoothed them over his own as you worked your way down your body. Wordlessly, he turned his hands over, capturing your soapy fingers in his and stealing some of the suds. You huffed a laugh, heart fluttering in your chest as he began to work that soap into the soft skin of your stomach, hips, and waist. 

You tried not to squirm too much. Forced yourself to relax, and just let him do what he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, the way he lingered, rubbing circles into your soft skin, kissing at your shoulder blade as he brought his hands around and up your back, almost massaging the soap into you. 

The way his hands moved over your body was so different than anything you’ve ever felt before. You’d never been touched so tenderly, so unrestricted yet loving as you’d been now. And though he had free reign, he avoided the parts that might make you uncomfortable… until you grew bold enough to capture his wandering hands in your own, leading them to the soft mounds of flesh yourself. 

On instinct he squeezed, ever so gently, with your smaller fingers bracketing his own. “You can touch me,” you whispered, encouraging now that you were fully relaxed and comfortable with him.

“You’re perfect,” he replied, lips finding the curve of your neck.

What had he said about behaving?

As if he could read your thoughts, his lips released the skin of your neck with a small sound, pressing a kiss above that spot, and then one more under your jaw. Then he began to move his hands over your breasts, not quite sexual, but gentle. Caring. Washing you of rainwater and chill, so all that was left was the sweet smelling soap and the feel of him.

You sighed in relief, bones turning to mush in his hands. Soon, he reached for the soap again and squeezed more out, stepping around so that he was in front of you.

His hands found you again, your waist this time, the unpredictability of his touches making your heart hammer against your ribs. Something about it was so thrilling, not being able to see where he was or where he was planning to go, especially now that you’d given him permission to touch you. You weren’t sure where you’d draw the line if it came to that. If you’d draw the line. 

His touch remained wholly innocent, though, focusing back around on your stomach, dragging down the curve of your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs. You could feel his breath on your tummy, butterflies flaring to life as you realized he was on his knees before you, dragging his touch up and down your thighs as his lips pressed a sensual kiss to the top of your tummy. Then above your belly button. Then one below–

You held your breath, anticipating him to keep going. But he lingered on the last kiss, and you could feel his teeth on your skin as he smiled.

“On my best behavior, remember?” his voice was deep, almost a purr. 

You could only manage a meek “Mmhm,” as he continued on, tracing his fingers down to your knee, lifting one leg slightly so he could trail kisses down your thigh, over your knee, down, down down, all the while rubbing soap into your skin in his lip’s wake.

By the time he reached your foot, you were bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying not to jump out of your skin as his lips continued. He kissed your ankle, the top of your foot, massaging soap into the soles of your feet. 

He wasn’t just washing you. He was worshiping you.

That much was clear as he released that leg and started over on the other side. 

You were almost relieved when he was done. Every inch of your skin was alive and buzzing, standing on edge with electricity and embarrassment and something else. Something deep, and smooth, and warm like bubbling molasses. You could barely breathe, glad for the moment of reprieve when he finally released you, and deposited more soap in his hands so he could wash himself. 

Your legs were jelly, afraid you’d fall down right there in the shower, completely baffled how he could just do something like that and continue on like nothing happened. Then, you heard the speed at which he was rubbing the soap over his own body – clearly, he wanted to get out to continue this elsewhere. 

You weren’t terribly ashamed to admit you were thinking along the same line.

Before the water could run cold, Anakin had urged you both under the spigot again and rinsed all the suds off your body. Then he grabbed for the single towel that you’d brought from the supply bag, turning the water off and wrapping you up in it.

“Hey– what’re you doing?” you pouted, undoing the towel just as soon as he’d tucked it into you, secure.

“Getting you dry,” he responded like it was obvious. You rubbed the towel over your skin quickly, then wrapped Anakin in it like he’d done to you. Or– you tried to, at least. You still couldn’t see, and completely missed your mark, caught off guard by the absence of the body you confidently reached for that you almost slipped, bracing yourself on the first thing you could reach.

“Woah,” Anakin chuckled, easily steadying you with his hands around your waist. Your bare chest was pressed against his, glaringly obvious with the way the cold air tightened your skin, and you blushed furiously. 

“Sorry– couldn’t find you,” you mumbled, hopelessly patting at his chest with the towel now that you had him.

“Alright, let’s get you dressed and out of here before you take us both down,” he teased, bending to retrieve the clothes you’d both discarded in the dark.

You let him pull his shirt over your head first, shielding you from the nippy air. You were disappointed with the loss of contact, but glad for the sense of normalcy. He knelt before you again and urged you to lift your leg with his hand around your calf, guiding one leg, then the other into your shorts, pulling them up until they rested comfortably on your hips.

He pulled his own pants on, the only thing he’d be wearing, and you finally reached for the bathroom door, ready to be able to see again even if it was only by candlelight.

It was like re-entering life, after being in the dark for so long. You turned to see if Anakin was following you, finding him close behind as he shut the door behind him, and just the sight of his ridiculously handsome face, gilded by the glow of the fire, set your heart aflame.

You needed his lips on yours. Now.

This time, he was taken by surprise with the intensity of your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, barely noticing as he fell back into the door slightly, hand finding your hip to steady you. His surprise quickly melted into an intensity that matched your own, hot lips sliding over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste, palm guiding your jaw just how he liked.

He kissed like he was drinking you in, breathing your air, as if he wished to share the same skin as you. And though you’d started it, now you were trying to keep up, head growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen as he began to guide you backward, onto the bed.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, the reality of the situation dawned on you. He wasn’t slowing down, and you didn’t want him to. His touch dragged fire across your flesh, tracing down the places he’d just worshiped under your clothes, pulling you so close to him you could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Your hands buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder for stability, grounding as he released your lips with a gasp, wasting no time before claiming the sensitive skin of your neck with the same furiosity. 

“Anakin,” you breathed, not really sure what you wanted to say. You just wanted to taste his name in your mouth, the way the syllables sounded so pretty, so perfect between your teeth.

He answered with a short “mmm,” listening but not really. He was too deep into it, kissing and sucking and nipping at your neck, tongue laving over the small hurts that his teeth dug into you. 

Somehow his flesh hand had drifted to the elastic of your shorts. You’d missed it before, too caught up in him toying with the skin over your pulsepoint. But now his fingers teased the elastic that he’d just put on you, and despite your livewire nerves and the pound of your heart, you lifted your hips in invitation.

His mouth detached from your neck, shocked again as he breathed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you forbid him from asking again by pulling him back to your lips. You needed the distraction, bracketing his jaw in both your hands as he pulled your shorts down your legs, slowly. Giving you time to back out.

You kicked them off once he reached your feet, flinging them out of sight. Anakin settled back between your thighs, your knees squeezing his waist, squirming as his touch now roamed free under your shirt.

“Anakin,” you pulled away to breathe once again, lips swollen and wet, filled with the taste of him. “I– I don’t know what to do.”

His eyelashes shuttered, delicate as a butterfly wing, and he leaned back in to peck you gently on the lips. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he murmured, eyes all melted and soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

There it was again. That blind trust. 

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d let him. Half dressed, strewn over the bed, all for his taking… and he moved down your body to recount the kisses he’d pressed to your stomach in the shower only moments before.

Your muscles clenched and unclenched, hips squirming as you felt an uncomfortable warmth, a wetness, an ache between your legs the further down he moved. You were no stranger to that feeling, or how to relieve it– but you were new to sharing it with someone else. Sharing it with him. 

Though it made you incredibly nervous to have him down there, the need for his touch outweighed everything. He kissed your stomach, hips, and thighs until he felt you relax under his palms, and only then did he slide his hands beneath your knees, pausing one last time to ask:

“Will you let me taste you?”

It felt like something exploded in your face, with the intensity that heat bloomed in your cheeks. Those bejeweled eyes shining in the candlelight, intent on you, hands clutching the plush softness of the backs of your thighs, breath ghosting over the bottom of your stomach– it was almost too much.

“Okay,” you answered quietly, nodding your head. “Y-yes.”

His responding grin was wicked – roguish. Broad hands pushed your legs up and spread them apart, baring it all for him to see.

It was quick– so quick you barely had time to be embarrassed, like ripping a bandaid off. He just… did it. And now he was looking at you, holding your thighs so steady in his strong grasp that you couldn’t even dream of closing them on him.

You threw a hand over your eyes, unable to watch him look at you.

“Baby,” he breathed, flesh hand releasing one of your legs so he could slot it between your thighs, thumb pulling you open a little. You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed as he studied you, only opening your eyes to look at him when he tugged at your wrist in silent demand.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” he teased, though when you blinked open your wet eyes to look at him, his face had melted into one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before pressing his lips to the swollen bud of your clit, taking you by surprise again. “The prettiest there ever was,” he smirked when he saw your reaction, pulling you open with both thumbs now so he could press a hot, deep, lingering kiss into you.

You gasped at the contact, blood rushing in your ears as your back bowed off the bed. Sparks of pleasure battled the humiliation as he continued planting sweet little suckling kisses to your clit, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

Once you’d relaxed back onto the bed, and the first pathetic whimper left your mouth, he let his tongue roam your folds, collecting your taste.

He knew this was new for you, so he went slow. Started gentle, getting you used to the feeling. And it was strange for you, just a little bit, but mostly it felt… good. So good. Indescribably good. So much so that you couldn’t believe you’d held out on this for so long.

Couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you now. 

Your hips twitched and jumped as his tongue traced down to your entrance, teasingly licking you in circles, using pressure like he might try to put it in. The thought had you reaching for the bedsheets, needing something to squeeze in your fists. One of his hands intercepted yours, bringing it back to your thigh so he could hold you still and let you squeeze his hand at the same time. 

He licked your arousal up, truly drinking you now, allowing his tongue to lave over your clit all slow and smooth and warm. You mewled, a sweet, innocent sound that went straight to his cock. With a desire to pull more pretty sounds from you, he kept drawing circles over your clit, increasing the pressure and speed until your eyes were closed, and you were biting your finger between your teeth, unable to help the sounds escaping you.

“Fuck, Ani–”  gasped, thighs falling open by themselves now, inviting him deeper. He licked you again, closing his lips at the top of your heat to suck your clit into his mouth, pulling it between his lips with a pulsing suction. 

He didn’t let up. 

Your muscles tensed, the fuzzy warmth building in your gut, between your legs, spreading down your thighs, becoming all consuming. And just when you thought it would burst, he let go.

“Shit,” you cried, breathless as your hips rocked against his mouth. He laughed, sticking his tongue out so you could hump the met muscle, hot breath fanning over your most sensitive parts. His teeth gleamed in the firelight, dark eyes trained on you, and you had to shut your own so you didn’t cum right there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulled his face away, pinching the inside of your thigh just enough to sting. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze again. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

His mouth, shining with your slick, lowered to your pussy again. And you couldn’t stop from moaning, hips canting up and down even though you knew it made his job more difficult. You just couldn’t help it– it felt too good. 

And he knew that, so he was nice. It was your first time, after all. So he relaxed the hold he had on your hips and let you squirm, just a little, to delude you into thinking you had even an ounce of control.

“You gonna cum in my mouth, sweet thing?” he spoke against your cunt, sealing the words off with a loud, wet, kiss. “Gonna make a mess for me?”

You’d never appreciated the velvety timber of his voice more than right now. 

“Mhm,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezing closed. And again, he let you. There would be other times to play his wicked games.

“Alright, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready,” he soothed, returning his mouth to your clit. He licked and sucked, sliding his tongue back down to your hole and breaching the entrance like he’d fantasized about doing with his cock for so long now, carving the exact path he would take. You gasped for air, humming it out in cute helpless whines and whimpers, cheeks permanently stained in a flush.

“Anakin, I–” you wanted to say you loved him, no matter how pathetic that sounded. But it was true, it was all you could feel as his lips suctioned around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue in torturous circles. You loved him, loved his mind and his body, and the way his lips and tongue were pulling that glorious wave of heat from out of you now, swallowing the gush of hot slick that escaped from your pulsing hole.

He brought you down with his thumb on your clit, soothing gentle circles into it as you cried, body shaking and jerking beneath him. He watched you come undone with a small smile on his face, not allowing you to escape his attention for even a moment. 

The last gulp of air that you took to settle your shivering muscles felt like the sweetest breath you’d ever taken. Anakin climbed back up your body, hands sliding over your knees, so he could kiss you deep on the lips.

You tasted yourself – it wasn’t bad… slightly salty, but not quite. That mixed with the taste of Anakin had your brain turn to mush again, lips lazy and compliant under his.

“See how good you taste?” he hummed, going back in to flirt his tongue around yours. “Fucking delicious.”

“Anakin–” you were pushing at his chest now, the buffer of arousal no longer shielding you from so much embarrassment. He laughed as you covered your face with your hands, immediately trying to tug them away again.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted with that lover’s pur, and you pouted once he finally succeeded in seeing your face again. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, still smiling. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, unable to fight back your own matching smile. “‘T was so good, Ani. Didn’t think… didn’t think it’d be like that.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head, leaning into his warm palm as he cupped your cheek, thumb still stroking your bottom lip. “Thank you. Do you– do you want me to…”

It took him a second before he realized what you were talking about. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down, then laughed. “No– no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, mirth and adoration oozing from his gaze. “But I can handle it tonight. Think that was enough for you.”

You pouted again, about to insist, but he kept you quiet with a kiss. “Another time, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, complaisant.

“Good.” With a deep breath of his own, he lifted himself off of you, carefully closing your legs so they wouldn’t ache from being held open for so long. “Wait here,” he requested, and then left for the bathroom again.

He grabbed the towel you both had used, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you open up for me?” he asked, fingers sliding around your thigh in silent request.

Your face burned even harder than before, somehow, as you fulfilled his request, spreading your legs a bit so he could clean you up. It was a strange feeling, almost more intimate than what he’d previously been doing– but it was quick, and it felt nice now that your arousal was all cleaned up, and he could slip your shorts back on with you having to get up. 

Anakin retreated back to the bathroom and was gone for a few long moments. You had an idea of what he was doing, another burst of heat blooming in your stomach at the thought of what was going on behind that door. You had half a mind to suggest helping him again. You were more than willing.

But he came out only a short time later to find that you’d straightened all the sheets, and were now waiting by the pillows for him to come back to bed with you. He blew out the candles as he passed them by, getting into the bed and wasting no time pulling you onto his chest.

He’d never felt closer to you. And you, him.

In the morning, you’d probably be embarrassed again, recalling what you’d done. The storm outside seemed to trap you in a bubble, your own world, and everything else seemed so far away now.

You pressed your palm to his chest, letting the strong thud, thud, thud of his heart lull you to sleep. Before he could feel you drift off, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, and you heard it in your dreams. 

divider from @saradika

[erinkeifer]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: After last night, during which you got to know your Master from a completely different perspective, you can't seem to gather yourself. You should start this day as usual, but how is it possible when you'll have to look into his eyes for the first time after everything, and tonight you both agreed to finish your work?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | smut | v unprotected (and pretty much painful) sex | kissing | cursing | choking | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | blood | mentions of injuries | Anakin is taking reader's virginity

Word Count: 4,3k

You woke up with a terrible headache, and the beam of the illuminated Coruscant seeping through the partially opened curtain only worsened the situation. You had only fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, restlessly pacing around your room for most of the night. Despite Anakin's request for you to rest and recover, you just couldn't. Rubbing your eyes, you stumbled to the edge of the bed and sat down, gazing at your torn-to-shreds jumpsuit still lying on the floor. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of Anakin's hands tearing it apart earlier, but you knew you had to snap back to reality as quickly as possible. Keep your emotions in check... Oh, how much you despised those words. Everything was fine until you glanced at the clock. The council meeting. Yes, you were supposed to attend a council meeting that day, and suddenly your heart raced for a reason far from your ideal scenario. "Fuck," you muttered to yourself under your breath, kicking the shreds of fabric under the bed and rushing towards the wardrobe. As quickly as you could, you donned the black and brown robes and slipped into black, slightly snug pants with matching, tall boots that still bore the memories of the Clone Wars. The thought of having to look your Master in the eyes for the first time after everything that had happened in that room was eating you up inside. Before leaving your quarters, you managed to quickly steady your breath and run your fingers through your long, wavy hair - you rarely let it down for council meetings, but this time it seemed like the most comfortable option. Stepping into the hall, a million scenarios raced through your mind, and none of them felt right. You had no idea how to act, but there was no time for planning – the council meeting room was just around the corner. It was too late. As your hand touched the cold doorknob, you felt the doors opening, and you stepped back to make way for anyone exiting the room. "Well, gentlemen, I believe everything is clear and straightforward for now," resonated Obi-Wan's voice, who was holding the door for Master Windu and Anakin. However, before you could catch a glimpse of your Master, Chancellor Palpatine's voice requested him to stay in the room, and the doors closed behind the two Masters. "Ma'am" both Masters bowed as their gaze discreetly pinpointed your silhouette peeking out from behind the door. "Masters," you reciprocated with a bow, your hands resting behind your back. "For today, that will be all. Taking advantage of your presence, I'd like to congratulate and express my gratitude for your swift actions yesterday. General Skywalker has briefed us thoroughly. We owe a lot to your rapid response." said Windu, alternating his gaze between you and Obi-Wan. 'Congratulations... to me?' you thought at that moment, wondering what Anakin had conveyed to the council. "Well, I believe it's as clear as day that any threat to the Order must be neutralized," you replied with a smile, striving to maintain an appropriate mood and conceal your doubts. "And may it continue that way. Now, I must apologize, but my duties call," Windu responded with a smile, then nodded in farewell and headed in the opposite direction of the corridor. You and Obi-Wan stood in silence for a moment, waiting for Windu to disappear from your view. Then you spoke up first, not entirely sure what reaction to expect from Obi-Wan. "General... I wanted to deeply apologize for..." "You don't need to apologize for anything. As you heard, you're justified," Obi-Wan interrupted, directing an empathetic gaze in your direction. You smiled softly and felt a moment of relief, but you sensed that a certain kind of tension still hung over you.

"You see... Whether I like it or not, Anakin has inherited from me the gift of turning a blind eye to certain matters, but it doesn't mean that I would have acted the same way today." Obi-Wan continued, and you had the impression he was scrutinizing you. He still gestured as if he had something on the tip of his tongue, so you didn't have the courage to interject. "Whatever it was, you're lucky your Master is covering for you." Obi-Wan finished in a much more serious tone, and a nervous shiver ran through your entire body. "But I..." You began to respond nervously, but Obi-Wan didn't let you finish, as if he knew your explanation wouldn't change anything. "May the Force be with you." he said, looking at you with an uncertain and somewhat sad smile, then stepped into the elevator whose doors had just opened. It was a moment when you felt like you had disappointed your own father - and although you often played rebellious in front of Kenobi, in a way, you always cared not to lose his favor. Simultaneously with the sound of the departing elevator, you heard the doors opening. Just the sight of Anakin's robes emerging from the threshold sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't imagine what you would feel when you had to look him in the eyes. You could immediately get the impression that Anakin hadn't had much rest last night - he had slight dark circles under his eyes, and his hair wasn't as neatly arranged as it usually was during council meetings - but you could say that every imperfection added a charm to him, which you had always romanticized.

"Master." you bowed before him, avoiding his gaze, which quickly landed on you after leaving the room. Anakin reciprocated your gesture, closing the door behind him and walking past you, signaling for you to follow. You took a few steps away from the meeting place and stopped in a secluded spot to avoid feeling observed.

"I presume Windu and Obi-Wan conveyed to you what's most important." Anakin spoke first, not hesitating to scan your eyes that were evading his.

"Well... you could call it that, but..." you began to respond, trying not to reveal your unease in your voice.

"But?" Skywalker interjected, sensing your hesitation.

"I suspect that Obi-Wan wasn't... Enthusiastic about me. I don't know what he found out, but I have a bad feeling about it." you finished, nervously glancing around. Anakin didn't immediately respond to your words. He held you in silence until you made eye contact with him, but that moment didn't come. "You won't look at me, will you?" he stated, closely observing your demeanor. With great reluctance, you decided to meet his gaze after hearing those words, and your heart pounded so strongly that you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. Those eyes... Those damned eyes.

"Better," Anakin replied in a warm tone, gazing into your eyes intensely as if trying to see through them. He also noticed the tiredness in your eyes, and without the need for asking, he could tell that you had a rough night. The tension between both of you increased as the memory of last night intensified in your minds simultaneously, and neither of you could hold it back. Suddenly, Anakin scrutinized you in a very similar way as Obi-Wan did, triggering a flurry of questions in your mind. Shortly after that, he reached for the collar peeking out from your robes and pulled it up, covering your neck.

"You should be more careful as well," as he uttered his last word, you felt one of his fingers gently touch the pulsating bruise on your neck, and perhaps you began to understand what Obi-Wan had in the back of his mind. Fuck... You wanted to start speaking, but your voice got stuck in your throat when both of you heard approaching footsteps, and you quickly distanced yourselves from each other.

"General, everyone is ready. We can start moving slowly." Rex said as he passed through the corridor in full gear.

"Sure thing, Captain, I'll be right there." Anakin replied, smiling at his saluting companion. As soon as Rex disappeared from your view, your gazes returned to each other, and you had already forgotten what you wanted to say earlier.

"What do you have for today? Maybe I could help?" you asked, trying to ease the tension in your mind.

"Aggressive Negotiations." he replied with a smirk, which you quickly reciprocated. "We'll manage, but assistance might come in handy on-site. I'll leave the younglings in your care. I know you like that." Anakin replied with a touch of irony, and you sighed, knowing that you couldn't demand discipline from others to the same extent as your Master.

"It will go by quickly, and you can catch some sleep before our crew returns." he added as he began to move in the direction Rex had gone.

"Sure, sure..." you replied with a hint of doubt while Anakin still maintained eye contact with you. Then, he nodded and continued ahead.

"Master...?" you managed to call out, and Anakin turned towards you.

"Same place, same time." he answered your unspoken question, smiling slightly. You felt butterflies in your stomach upon hearing the same words that came from his lips last night. You responded with a nod and a smile, and he went where he was needed. Damn, this is going to be a long day.

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As you rightly suspected, training with the younglings completely drained your energy, and the influx of other minor duties that had cropped up in the meantime made it dark outside by the time you returned to your quarters. Bantering with the young students had allowed you to unwind a bit, even though you had to admit that the flood of thoughts prevented you from fully engaging in Anakin's training routines.

"Since Master Skywalker is not with us today, can we have a more relaxed day?"

"But Master Skywalker always lets us play! Please, please!" The carefree voices of the younglings resonated in your head, and you couldn't help but smile as you recalled their little fibs about Anakin giving in. You had always known that when it came to training, your Master was very meticulous, even radical, and there was no room for 'fun' in his methods. Your previous training sessions with him sometimes felt like a drill - you would crash to the ground with a thud while he looked down on you, and it seemed like he wanted more. The holds and maneuvers he taught you were not of a light nature; sometimes it seemed like he was fighting seriously and waiting for your petite body to yield to the force of his strength. When you closed the door behind you into your room, you felt something inside you crack. You had been accumulating emotions all day regarding what was about to happen very soon, and you could feel yourself gradually losing your composure. You quickly abandoned everything you had in your hands and took nervous steps toward the bathroom, not knowing what to do with yourself. You leaned your hands against the porcelain sink and gazed at your tired face in the mirror's reflection. Your long hair was matted, but in this light, its curls seemed tidy and well-defined. However, you quickly tied it up in a messy bun and, wanting to freshen up efficiently, stripped off your clothes, shoes, and stepped into the shower. You had always been fond of warmth, but this time, the cold water stream refreshed you so much that you had no intention of adjusting its temperature. Not wanting to waste time, you washed your hair, face, and body one after the other, feeling not only the water running off you but also a sense of relief and comfort, which you needed now more than ever. Once you had dried your body, leaving your hair to air dry, you scanned your face in the mirror again and decided to add something special to your appearance. In the drawer of your vanity, you had a few cosmetics that were supposed to wait until your Knighting Ceremony, but the circumstances of today seemed much more fitting to finally unpack them. You laid out lipsticks in two shades, several nude eyeshadows, and mascara, which usually delicately enhanced your beauty. You didn't hesitate much in choosing the appropriate shade for your lips – you adorned them with a satin-finish ruby red lipstick. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you began to regret not practicing this sooner. Next came the eyeshadows, which you applied with a feather-light brush stroke, creating a 'cat-eye' effect that accentuated itself with the mascara on your lashes. You may be a Padawan, you may be a Jedi Knight, but above all, you are a woman – and you feel that now more than ever. You didn't opt for experimenting with your clothing – you didn't even have the opportunity to do so. Instead, you slipped into a simple, charming nightgown with silk accents and delicate shoulder straps. In the subtle light of Coruscant's night, it shimmered with a silvery-lilac hue. Before settling comfortably in bed, you spritzed a cloud of your favorite rose-musk perfume around you and glanced at the nighttime cityscape, looking for Skywalker's crew, who should theoretically already be in place. You wanted to occupy your time somehow, so you watched the night trails of speeders, occasionally attempting to jot down notes in your notebook. However, your hands were trembling so much that your pencil wouldn't find balance. Despite the signs pointing to a sleepless night, each minute passed slowly, and you eventually succumbed to the exhaustion, collapsing helplessly onto the pillow. The contours of the nocturnal Coruscant blurred increasingly in your eyes, and as soon as the moonlight disappeared behind the towering buildings, you felt everything around you fading away. You fell asleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- You had no idea how much time had passed until you heard the soft click of the door to your room. Seeing that your weariness had conquered you, Anakin initially tried to enter quietly, but he quickly reverted to his natural posture as your figure gradually rose from the bed. Despite the catnap, your makeup still looked flawless, and the glow from the city's neon lights further adorned your face as Anakin fixed his gaze on you. "Master..." you whispered, nervously fiddling with your still slightly damp hair, and you would have been ready to get out of bed if he hadn't interrupted you just in time. "Stay there." he said with a certain gentleness in his voice, walking with his hands behind his back along the vast windows of your quarters. Soon, his mechanical hand discreetly started drawing the curtains just enough to let in the light, and you watched his every move with vigilance. "Just in case." Anakin murmured, making sure that only two pairs of eyes would have access to the inside of this room. As per his request, you didn't move from your spot and watched as he approached you with slow steps, eventually sitting down next to you on the edge of the bed. Anakin explored your eyes as if he wanted to decipher something entirely new from them, and his hand landed on your increasingly blushing cheek, which he caressed with a tenderness you had never felt before. "I've never... I've never seen you like this." he whispered, this time pausing his gaze on your full, red lips. "Do you think it's... okay?" you asked shyly, feeling your heart steadily quicken as you heard his deep voice. "You're asking me if it's... okay?" he continued, but you didn't answer, feeling his touch becoming more and more fervent, while his other free hand rested on your chest to lay you down completely. "It's more... More than okay." he murmured, leaving messy kisses on your jawline. "You smell... so beautiful... You look so beautiful... You always have." he whispered in a hoarse voice, almost breathless from the number of kisses that were approaching your collarbones. The hand that had rested on your cheek now gripped your breast firmly through the thin fabric, and your heart began to pound like a hammer, which didn't escape Anakin's attention. "Nervous?" he asked softly, not removing his lips from your skin. "Just... just keep going." you replied in a whisper, finding no words at the moment to describe the pleasure you were feeling. At this moment, his fingers began to gently slide the straps of your dress down, and as you slightly lifted your shoulders, the lightweight fabric slipped down, fully exposing your bust. You no longer had the instinct to cover yourself, knowing he had already seen your breasts, but the tension grew as his hands moved downward. His fingers were spread at your lower abdomen, and he intended to kiss your breasts just as you signaled for him to position his head closer to your face. Buying more time before Anakin reached your most sensitive areas, you began to place kisses on his face. You instantly felt that he had freshened up after his mission before he arrived at your quarters—your nose caught the scent of his aftershave and woody cologne, which were his absolute signature.

You felt a metallic taste of blood under your tongue, and when the light from above reached his face, you noticed fresh but minor cuts on it. As soon as you identified them, you began to kiss them tenderly. When you instinctively grabbed his robe, his gaze responded to your unspoken question, allowing you to continue your move. With sorrow, you realized that your Master's injuries didn't end with minor abrasions. There were a few shallow but sizable slash wounds on his chest, which looked like the result of being cut by multiple blades in a single stroke.

"Who did this to you?" you whispered with a concerned voice, gently touching his chest with your fingertips.

"Don't worry about it." he replied, his hand on your face, sensing a trace of concern in your eyes.

Seeing that you hesitated for a moment with your movements, Anakin shifted his focus to you, and with a sudden move, he began to lower your dress from your hips, at the same time discarding his own clothes to remain topless. The moment you were completely naked under him electrified you, and not just you. Anakin leaned forward, positioning himself between your thighs, which clenched as if you were resisting him. The emotions in the room did not escape his attention, so before doing anything impulsive, he began comforting you, his hands caressing your thighs.

"Spread them for me," he commanded with a husky voice, sending shivers down your spine. Anakin positioned his knee between your legs, waiting for your slower response as he adjusted himself for your comfort. With each passing moment, you gathered the courage to part your thighs. His face displayed an intense desire, and his movements became more determined as he unfastened his belt.

Now he had revealed everything to you, and although an incredible excitement surged within you, a trace of doubt crept in as he removed his pants and boxers. You questioned whether you could handle this even more than you had yesterday. Anakin observed every single one of your reactions with precision. He watched as your chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, and his gaze remained locked onto your eyes while he pleasured himself. "Wider," he suddenly commanded, and you obediently spread your legs even further as his gaze remained fixed on your intimate areas. The tension that buzzed between both of you was indescribable; you felt an incredible sensation in your abdomen, as if something animalistic were awakening within Anakin. He had no intention of delaying any further and lifted one of your legs, positioning himself at your entrance, but you impulsively held his arms, signaling him to wait. "Anakin... I never..." you began nervously, but he didn't let you finish. His dilated pupils silently scanned your face, and after a moment of silence, his lips collided with yours in a passionate, lingering kiss that nearly took your breath away. Somehow, he knew. He guessed it perfectly, observing your every move and reaction, every twitch at his touch, and every signal he could sense from you. Finally, as his face withdrew, you felt his touch at your entrance, and you clenched your eyes shut, anticipating as if he might hurt you. "Look at me," he whispered, holding one hand against your thigh as you tried to adjust. There was no warning when half of his length entered you with a thrust. Anakin hissed through his teeth just as you cried out in pain. "F... Fuck!" he growled as he felt you tightly gripping him, and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. "It... It burns..." you whimpered as he leaned in, and you felt his deep breaths against your cheek. "H-hold on. You'll feel it... soon," he whispered, keeping his lips close to your ear. You gritted your teeth as he stood still, a burning sensation growing inside you. Anakin kissed the corners of your mouth, tracing a path where your tears of pleasure streamed. The intense moment flipped on its head when his hand suddenly covered your mouth, anticipating your scream as he thrust completely into you. More tears streamed down your face, and he smiled slightly, seeing how you struggled. "It will be as I promised." he whispered again in your ear and unveiled your face while placing his hand on your waist. With the first thrusts, your moans mingled with sobs, but both of you knew you wanted more. Gradually, you relaxed, and the pain began to intertwine with a pleasure that defied description. You gripped his shoulders tightly, watching your hips collide, and Anakin had no intention of maintaining a steady pace. His heavy breaths and deep moans drove you to ecstasy, and when you could no longer find the strength to scream, you clung to his arms with wild abandon. "Eyes on me." Anakin commanded in a breathless voice, wanting to witness every inch of your excitement. You obeyed, and then his strength and pace quickened, driving you to madness. Anakin growled as your nails dug into his arms, and you didn't even manage to stifle your reflex. The pain you inflicted on him was quickly returned to you as he accelerated and thrust into you with merciless force. But in the midst of it all, you finally began to feel what Anakin had promised you earlier—the perfect ecstasy. "A-Ani..." you mumbled, unable to control your choice of words, and realizing how you had just addressed him, your voice suddenly caught in your throat.

Anakin slowed his thrusts, and tension built up over you. His mechanical hand landed on your throat without warning, and from that moment on, his movements lacked any hint of empathy. He groaned and panted as he watched you gasp for air, his hand pressing onto your throat more forcefully. You felt like you were on the edge. "Master, I'm..." you managed to say, initially intending to apologize, but you had to change that quickly. "Master, I'm cumming..." you continued with a sobbing voice as your eyes rolled back, and a prolonged wave of pleasure surged through your entire body. You choked on your own moans as he continued to fuck you relentlessly, making you feel everything with doubled intensity. His hand around your throat suddenly loosened but began trembling and rested on the bed beside you as he reached his climax. Anakin started panting heavily over you, and through the haze of your own peak, you could hear his intermittent moans as his warm fluids filled your insides. Shivers ran down your entire body, and he collapsed onto your chest, still panting heavily. Chaotic heartbeats coursed through both of you, and your bodies were wet and trembling. Anakin was still inside as he tried to steady his breath on your chest, and you, feeling how heated he was, leaned down to tenderly kiss his forehead. For the next few minutes, the room was filled only with the sounds of your deep breaths, and it was probably one of the most intimate moments of that night. Your hands were still trembling, and there was blood under your nails as you ran your fingers through Anakin's damp, matted hair. as he lay on top of you with closed eyes. You had to admit that, for the first time in your life, you saw him in such a vulnerable and, in his own way, innocent state.

It took him a few more minutes to roll off of you and lay down beside you, so he could wrap his arms around you and gaze deeply into your eyes. "With each time... it will feel even better... And it won't hurt as much." he whispered with an evident sense of exhaustion yet fulfillment in his voice. You nodded, feeling him gently caress the outer side of your thigh.

"Don't leave the Order... At least not for a while longer." he continued, taking you by surprise with his words. "I talked about us... We've agreed that when you become a Knight, we'll still work together. Just like me and Ob..." He didn't have a chance to finish as you passionately kissed him on the lips. "What does that mean?" he inquired, sensing the reasoning behind your reaction.

"I won't," you whispered, almost immediately seeing a sense of relief in his eyes. For You. you added in your thoughts, and even though for some reason, you preferred not to say it out loud, you knew he probably knows what keeps you in the Order. Well... He knows it perfectly.