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darlingdekarios · 1 year

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the power of the dark side.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,178 content: Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader x f!Jedi!reader, ORDER 66, dead dove do not eat, canon-accurate violence, dark themes, child death, corruption, inappropriate use of the Force, smut [f receiving oral, v fingering, rough, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [choking]

Anakin promised that he would always find you, but you would never run from the dark.

“Stay here. Be silent. May the Force be with you.”

The last words you had spoken to the younglings as you tucked them away behind a locked door repeated in your ears as you silently made your way through the halls of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. You were certain time had simply ceased to exist, unsure exactly how long you’d been waiting for the catalyst for what you knew was to come. Recently knighted after 8 years of serving as Padawan to Master Mace Windu, you were still familiarizing yourself with the force in some ways, but today it was crucial that you could trust your instincts. Today, you had to listen to the force.

Finding a corner to tuck yourself behind you closed your eyes, recentering yourself and waiting for something to feel right. The time passed even slower in what was, in reality, mere moments. When your eyes opened you found yourself standing before the Jedi High Council Chambers, your feet and the force working together to carry you to where you needed to be – to where you were destined to be. Clutching your lightsaber beneath your robes you took a deep breath, stepping into the chambers.

It was him – of course it was him – behind the doors, a newly awoken darkness shrouding his eyes as he fixated on your every movement into the room. Standing where Master Yoda would have sat he looked ready to pounce at any moment, so you kept your distance in the center of the room. Tonight, Anakin Skywalker was pure darkness, fire, and something primal brimming through as his lips curved into the signature smirk – the one he always seemed to wear just for you.

“I knew you would come to me if I willed it,” his words were dripping with confidence and desperation, and the smallest whisper of fear threatening to present itself despite his best efforts to keep it down. He knew – of course he knew – that you could feel him, that you knew the hidden emotions others could never hope to discover in him. The two of you, not far apart in age, had found yourselves in the force together in many ways, and it had resulted in a connection that the Jedi Council noted their weariness of many times. “Mace Windu is dead. He attempted to assassinate the Chancellor.”

“I felt his death,” was your simple affirmation, a curt nod accompanying your words. “And I felt your part in it.”

“He was a traitor, angel,” his words were chased by his signature laugh, taunting you behind the new look in his eyes. The nickname he’d called you so many times sounded so wrong from him now, and a chill ran down your back. Your stomach tight, you swallowed hard as you began to listen to the voice in your mind telling you that nothing would be the same after tonight. Just how much it was supposed to change, the events that were to follow – no instinct could prepare you for it.

“Anakin…what have you done?”

“I am bringing peace to the galaxy,” was the statement that left his mouth, but you both knew what it really meant – he was fulfilling his destiny. He was becoming more. He was becoming stronger, more powerful – everything he had always wanted. He was free. This new tone was him – completely him – free of his lifelong feeling of obligation to others for the first time in his life. Today was a day for what he desired, for what only he could do. “Join me.”

The two words were simple but oh-so complex, and you found yourself unable to respond to his request – to his demand – as you fought to find an adequate breath. He took advantage of your stunned mind to assert his plan further.

“The Jedi are going to be gone soon. Most have been killed by now – and I will not leave this temple full of the threat to the galaxy that is the Jedi,” his words were venom as he spoke of the organization that raised him, no affection left within his heart for the group.

“Then you’ll have to kill me, Anakin,” your eyes finally focused on his and you fought back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, unwilling to display weakness for him. If you were to die today, you would die with dignity. There would be no begging from your mouth as the man who you had once trusted, the man who had saved your life numerous times throughout your years as a Padawan. “For I am a Jedi Knight.”

His laughter filled the air once more, though this round was far more sinister than the last as his eyes burned into yours. His smirk found its home on his features again as he stepped closer to you, reveling in the way your heart rate increased for him. “You are no Jedi.”

“Then what am I?”

“So much more,” he finished closing the gap between the two of you to his liking, content with you being a mere two arm’s lengths away for now, though tonight he was intent on making you drop the last of the pointless Jedi barriers you held around you. “We are stronger together – I make you stronger. You belong at my side, building something better…together. Come with me to finish eradicating the Jedi, to eliminate the Separatists and to bring peace to the galaxy. You can be so much more than what the Jedi allow you to be.”

Your tear ducts betrayed you and the salty liquid forming in your eyes spilled over, rolling down your cheeks as your lightsaber was withdrawn from your robes. He raised an eyebrow as you took a step back from him, igniting your blade which threatened to fall to the floor from your shaking hand. He was asking you to do the impossible – to leave the only stability you had known since being removed from your family at such a young age, to murder those you’d sworn to protect and teach, to sink into the dark side. The boy you had known for over a decade, who had been the only real security you’d ever felt, was asking you to betray everything you’d ever learned for him. The conflicting emotions boiled inside of you and the hot tears spilled down your cheeks larger and faster, building as more emotions poured into them, particularly a new one for a young Jedi – anger.

As you entered a stance he’d seen so many times before – one he always said reminded him of a Loth cat – that same smirk played on his lips again. “Go on then, angel. Give into your anger. You will find strength in it as I have.”

A broken sound, not quite a yell, not quite a whine – one Anakin had never heard from you before – erupted from your throat and you raised the blade above your head you found nothing need intervene – you could never bring yourself to lower the blade to him. Looking into his eyes you saw the man who had saved your life not even a year ago on Nal Hutta, the one who had wrapped you in his robe to cover the indecent outfit the Hutts had dressed you in. The one who had threatened to strike down anyone who even looked at you. The one who had held you in the ship as you, for once, let so many emotions spill from you. It was the second time he’d seen you cry, the third being now.

Despite his primary driving force being the rage he felt at the Jedi’s betrayal, seeing you cry did make his stomach turn deep within, and somewhere a quiet voice in his mind hoped that he’d never have to see you cry again. If you would just listen to him, he would ensure that you never felt like this for the rest of your life. Your movements had frozen and you simply stood there, lightsaber raised, tears pouring from your eyes as you contemplated what to do – what could anyone do in a situation like this? Impatient and running out of time, Anakin used the force to pull your saber to his hand, tossing it to the side with a growl. His attention focused elsewhere, even if just for a moment, you made a desperate dash toward the door only to be stopped in your place – just as the doors had begun to open.

He used the force to turn you to him, his brows furrowed together as he shook his head. “You would rather die with the people who took you from your family? You would rather bleed with them than take your place at my side? The Council would have cast you out within the year – Jedi can’t have attachments and you’ve never been able to follow that one rule. Have you?”

His taunting words stabbed into your chest like no weapon ever could and you fought to allow your eyes to fall on him again, the tears frozen on your cheeks. This anger that had consumed him had made him stronger, and despite the fact you were certainly not weak, it did take a great deal of your strength to be able to fight through his manipulation of the force.

“I…have…no…attachments,” you fought to state through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing at your complete disrespect toward him but inwardly commending you for being strong enough to fight him – not that you could do it forever.

“Where would you run, angel? I will always find you,” his words quickened as he closed the distance between the two of you, his steps long and heavy as he sought to be closer to you. Despite his movement his invisible grasp on you did not falter, and even in your conflicted mind you had to commend Anakin for this newfound strength – it was what he had always wanted. You swallowed hard at his choice of words, his intention to mimic the words he’d uttered Nal Hutta clear. The conversation between the two of you in the ship that night had replayed in your mind nearly every day since then. In all honesty, there was a lot about that near two week stretch of time that you didn’t – couldn’t – think about…but often, your rescue replayed in your mind.

Cold, wet, hard, and slimy were the only four words adequate enough to describe how the eleven days spent on Nal Hutta had been. Everyone – seriously, everyone – in the galaxy knew exactly how the Hutts liked to dress their playthings. When that current plaything happened to be a Jedi who had found herself bested by a bounty hunter, it only made the satisfaction to see her in the outfit that much more.

Anakin had fought his way through the filth and grime to find you, slicing the chains that held you and forcing you against his side under his arm, his robe shielding you from prying eyes for the first time in days. Having recalled so much of that day you were certain you’d clung to Anakin’s side, releasing a sigh of relief at how warm he was.

But it wasn’t just the warmth his closeness provided, it was how everything felt around him. This close to him, you were safer than you could ever be and deep within you wished everyday could be spent this close to him – to feel this secure. Anakin’s lightsaber had stayed ignited and his eyes had revealed so much of the darkness within him that day – if anyone had pushed a singular button over taking you with him, he would have killed for you that day.

You still hadn’t come to terms with Anakin’s role in your rescue entirely. It was controversial with the High Council, who had lectured Anakin for hours on end. Your summons to the High Council was much shorter, a firm warning from the Masters – that Anakin would be your downfall. You were certain by the reaction from the council and the way Anakin had behaved that day he had taken at least one life that day on his quest to save you – and he held no regret for the action. But with you, that night, he was the softest he had ever been.

Back in the ship – outfitted with several troopers who hadn’t even needed to join Anakin – he had pulled you aside for a semblance of privacy. His eyes contained storms of emotion as he kept a grip on your shoulders, hands trembling with the emotions he wanted to express but couldn’t remember how. Struggling to find the words his mind sought he unwrapped his robe from himself, draping it around your shoulders and pulling you flush against him.

Words weren’t needed as he held you…as a balance was formed at this hint of a union and a gentle, soothing hum surrounded you and allowed the world to fade. In his arms, returning to the stars, you let yourself free of your normal restraints, allowing Anakin to hold all of the strength in this bubble together. You wept, clinging to him, trembling in his arms, nails digging at his skin at the slightest movement from him, controlled by the fear that he may withdraw from you. He had held you the entire duration to Coruscant, his fingers digging into you the best they could through the oversized robe encompassing you in his scent. He had rested his chin on your head, eyes closed, content at the melancholy meditation this situation presented to you both.

“I owe you one, Ani,” you’d spoken so quietly to him he wasn’t entirely sure it was allowed, to this day questioning if the two of you for a moment had joined in your own mental world to have true privacy. “I was…afraid.”

“I felt it,” he’d replied, wrapping his arms tighter in an attempt to coax you back into relaxation, his only true desire soaking in this moment with you. The part of him that cared for you wanted to provide you with the comfort you needed, but the selfishness that always lurked beneath hoped the conversation could be had while he held you, not willing to let you go just yet – unsure when this opportunity would present itself next.

“That place…it was horrible, Anakin. I could barely feel anything, I felt so lost.”

“You could never be lost with me around. I will always find you. ”

When his words had first been spoken so many days ago they were comforting, assuring that there was someone in the galaxy who cared about you beyond your status as a Jedi. Now, his tone flirted with playfulness as he taunted you with them, coaxing you to follow him down his new path. Years of Jedi indoctrination screamed at you that these words in this context were so wrong, but your thoughts and feelings had to disagree. Tonight your heart knew this was his form of the promise that you’d longed to hear – but your training simply could not allow you to give into this path.

“Things have changed…Anakin. You’ve…changed. Attachments change,” you could barely manage to choke out, your windpipe still restrained by his use of the force. Anakin’s control faltered, certain he had won you over by now, and he lessened his invisible grasp on you, choosing to change his approach. This, with you, didn’t need to be about the Jedi or Sith – it only needed to be about the two of you.

He had not freed you of his control fully and he began moving you toward the wall nearest to you, his tall frame leaning over yours to aid in keeping you in your place. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked this way, his eyes dark, his brows pulled together and the lightest smirk playing on his lips, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. His hair, the longest it had ever been, was falling in dampened curls around his face. It was ironic, truly, that he called you ‘angel’, as in your mind that was the only way to describe him.

“I will never forget how I felt when I learned you had been taken to Nal Hutta,” he attempted to state with an aura of confidence but instead revealed his true emotions, the emotions he had felt that night – fear, worry, pain. His gloved, robotic hand found its way to your hip and his senses sought out every reaction this new touch had on you. His voice dropped as he continued, hovering his mouth close enough to your ear for his warm breath to stun you. “I was so afraid. Everything changed for me that day…those eleven days. I would do anything to make sure you’re by my side – forever, once I’m strong enough, once I’ve learned to defy death.”

This was never the exact way you had dreamt of this scenario playing out, but there were certainly elements that made this scene ignite conflict within you – the light and dark finding another platform to battle within your heart, mind, and very spirit. You had been raised to find faith and goodness in the light, in the Jedi Order, and there were so many things about what Anakin was suggesting that went against everything you, hypothetically, believed in. But there was still somewhere within the little girl who’d met Anakin first on Coruscant, who’d longed to hear him say the feelings his stoic mask usually hid.

Hearing him begin his confession in this way, his voice lower and dripping with emotions you’d never heard from him before inspiring your own mind to explore feelings you never had before. The cocktail of emotions was overwhelming – anger, fear, sadness, confusion…desire, desperation, arousal…freedom. None of these things were the Jedi way – none of these feelings were acceptable, particularly not for him. And yet with his lips so dangerously close to your ear, there was no genuine attempt at suppressing them that could be made as his lips barely ghosted against the sensitive skin behind your jaw.

All too fast the feeling of all air being knocked out of you returned, your throat constricting as he returned to his interrogation of you. His tone was somehow a gentle contrast to the pressure he was applying to your throat, his lips still brushing ever-so-slightly across your neck. “I want the truth – I want to hear it from you. Stop lying to me – to yourself – to everyone. You are no Jedi – you are irreversibly attached to someone.”

His lips fully connected over your pulse at that point and the sound that burst from your throat at the feeling betrayed any chance you may have had left in saying you had no attachments. You could feel the curve of his lips as his smirk returned, his grasp on your waist tightening under the grasp of gloved metal, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek softly. Anakin’s eyes were always expressive, particularly compared to the more traditional Jedi, and yet even now after all of the years beside Anakin you were seeing something new in them – pleading…desperation…terror. It was impossible to place which one had started him down this path.

Anakin needed you to say yes. He needed you to agree to go forward with him, to forsake the treasonous Jedi and their beliefs and to become so much more at his side. His ideal future was only possible if your piece to the puzzle was added – without you, it would never be complete. But the first step down this path for you was to face the truth and accept the feelings you harbored from him – this was the only way forward. His voice was softer, his grasp lightening ever so slightly as he released his force grasp to allow you some freedom, still holding your body against the wall with his sheer strength as he tried once more.

“I already know the truth, angel…your attachment mirrors my own…there is no hiding this from me,” his eyes never left yours as his thumb familiarized itself with your cheekbone, his words dripping with sincerity.

The tears flowed down your cheeks again now that control had been returned to you and you couldn’t bring yourself to hide from him anymore – not from the one person who truly saw you. Your voice was hardly above a whisper as you finally gave into him, finally confirming the last piece to his galactic puzzle.

“I can never lose you, Anakin,” your voice broke, your hands sliding to rest on his shoulders. Despite everything, once again there was nothing but the pair of you together navigating this moment together. “I couldn’t…I can’t…lose you. In the whole galaxy, you’re all I ha-.”

Your final word was swallowed by him as his lips crashed into yours, his grasp on your hip once again tightening as he finally discovered the answer to how soft your lips were. His hand cupping your cheek slid back into your hair, grasping the strands there loosely to pull you closer to him, to hold your lips against his. You couldn’t have pulled away if you wanted to, but to his surprise you made no attempt, instead melting into him and returning the kiss.

Everything hummed around the pair once again as they made their way back into the chambers fully, a gasp falling from your lips as your legs hit the backs of one of the seats. Forced to sit you looked up at him, hands clutching at his sides now as both of his hands found place on your cheeks, eyes taking on a newfound adoration as he gazed upon you. This newfound freedom and closeness with Anakin had you feeling entirely new – empowered, uninhibited, greedy…selfish. He was the only thing that could hold your focus, particularly with his lips curved upward once again.

“Look at you…so pretty in your old Master’s seat,” his words caused the realization to finally strike you and he waited for you to fight the placement, only to pleasantly find you seemed to hang on his every word. Sinking to his knees in front of you he leaned forward again to connect his lips to yours, releasing his hold on your face to remove the glove from the cold, metal hand. Pushing your robe free from your form he marveled in the rarely seen sight of you without those bulky robes, his hands both finding place at your waist. “He always acted like he was better than us, and look now…he lies dead in the streets and you sit mewling for me.”

A whimper fell through your lips again as they sought to reconnect with his and his chuckle sounded again, his hands making quick work of removing your tunic, your belt, your pants…anything that was separating you from him. You’d wasted so much precious time resisting him tonight and there was no more time that could be wasted – but he simply couldn’t move forward without proving his devotion to you. Satisfied with the removed layers from you when you were bare to him he removed his lips from yours, wetting them with his pink tongue.

It was hardly fathomable as he dipped his tousled-curl covered head between your legs, reaching to lift your legs over his shoulders to angle you upward to him. His lips trailed a path he’d mapped in his mind thousands of times along the inside of your thighs, a content sigh releasing from his chest at the feeling of finally being able to confirm every suspicion he’d ever held about how your body would respond to him. Your fingers reached to find stability within his curls, fingers weaving into his locks as his face surged forward, his tongue licking a flat stripe against your already dripping cunt.

Anakin had never been quiet, certainly – he always had an opinion, always a sarcastic chuckle waiting to grace the room…but the moan that came from him as he finally tasted you would be the noise you heard in dreams for a lifetime. You rewarded his action with a pleasured moan of your own, your head falling back against the seat as his tongue began to work at you. His flesh hand dragged up your thigh before settling near your core, his index finger immediately slipping into you as he sucked firmly on your clit.

He began pumping the lone finger into you, emboldened by the first lovely sounds he had ever heard fill the walls of this room. Turning his head to lay claim across your thigh with his teeth he applied the force to your clit, sending vibrations through the little nub as he added his middle finger to your soaked sex. As his fingers scissored within you, preparing your tight walls for his soon-coming conquering of you. The combination of his fingers, the invisible vibrations on your clit and the feeling of his warm mouth sucking purple marks into your thighs inviting you to orgasm.

He felt the ways your legs begin to tremble and the tightening of your walls around his fingers. Placing a smirk on his lips as he looked up at your heavy lidded eyes as you watched him lean his lips back in to suck your clit, allowing the force to continue the vibrations. With a scream of his name your orgasm rushed through you, your walls frantically grasping at his fingers. When he was certain your climax had faltered he rose to his feet once again, pushing his pants to his ankles with fumbling hands, the anticipation of what was to come causing adrenaline to flood throughout him.

His metal hand reached to grasp you, to pull you to your feet so he could replace you in the seat, leaning back with his legs slightly spread, enticing you to him. Extending the hand not holding your waist he offered you to join him in your rightful place, and so you did, sliding your hand into his and dropping to straddle his waist. He fisted himself as he used his metal hand to guide your hips down, groaning as the wet heat of your cunt engulfed his cock.

“Oh, angel,” he moaned as you embraced every inch of him, hips bucking upward into you as the head of his cock found your cervix. Gripping his shoulders for stability and seeing stars at the feeling of him filling you, confirming that your imagination could never have adequately created this scenario – this was better than anything the mind was capable of creating. “I should have never waited this long to have you.”

His words caused the heat within you to boil over as you began to grind your hips down into his, desperate to feel him move within you. Grasping your hips and beginning to thrust up into you his head fell back, eyes closing at the feeling and taking a moment to savor how deep he reached, knowing time was short. Fortunately, he had you in his grasp now and he would never have to be without you again – he would never deny himself when it came to you.

You reached down to press a soft kiss to his neck, breaking him from his thoughts of the future as he began to pump up into you again, setting a steady pace up into you as he held you in place, your teeth dragging across the skin of his shoulder. Your voice was still roughened by his use of the force against your windpipe but it was the sweetest you’d sounded as you whined praises to him – how good he felt, how strong he was, how good he made you feel – giving him all of the validation he’d ever wanted from you.

Suddenly raising a hand and grabbing your hair at the back of your head he tilted your face up to him, lowering his face to burn his eyes into yours as he began a rougher pace. His voice was stern and serious, but dripping with satisfaction and adoration as he purred against your lips, “Please tell me you’re mine, angel. I have…to hear it.”

“I am, Anakin,” his frustrated huff that chased you using his name made your stomach twist, his pace coming relentless as he began to pinpoint that spongy spot deep inside you, using the force to send soft vibrations on your clit. His brows pulled together and he shook his head, fighting to find the words he needed. Fortunately, you didn’t often need to be told by him – you frequently just knew, whether it be by some connection in the force or just knowing him. “I am yours…Lord Skywalker.”

His features softened immediately, his bliss affirming itself in the sweetest, most appreciative moan as his lips found yours again. His hands grasped your hips as he rocked up into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as sweat dripped from his brown onto yours. No words had to be spoken as you both reached your climax, your nails digging into his shoulders as your clenching walls coaxed him to paint them with his cum. His forehead leaned against yours, eyes closed as he breathed in the feeling of coming down from what he was sure was what he’d heard some species call “heaven” with you in his arms.

It didn’t matter what path he chose to lead you down – from here, whatever path he chose was perfect as long as it was the path taken together. For so long he had been all you had, and nothing seemed too dark or impossible with him by your side – he was your strength. Placing a soft kiss to his lips once more you rose, fixating your clothing back onto yourself and covering your frame with your robe. The moment you finished he stood before you, using his thumb and index finger to grasp your chin and tilt your face to his.

“You know what you must do.”

And so you did, securing the hood to cover more of your face than you’d done before and leaving, intent on proving you weren’t afraid of the dark. Returning to the locked room you’d left the future of the Jedi Order, instructing those hiding inside to go to the High Council Chambers – you’d remember the faces that looked up at you until your final breath, but at the time, darkness clouded your vision as all your mind found clarity in was Anakin’s destiny – your destiny. As you watched those you’d sworn to protect disappear into the chamber, hearing the familiar hum of two lightsabers illuminating from within as the doors locked.

As Darth Vader emerged and continued his pursuit of peace, his robes billowed behind him as he made his way down the hall, his re-gloved hand motioning for you to follow. Unable to refuse him ever again, you continued to follow him on the path to the dark side.

masterlist. star wars masterlist.

#dead dove do not eat #anakin skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker smut #darth vader smut #star wars smut

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adragonsfriend · 16 days

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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)

#star wars #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #yoda #anakin skywalker #bail organa #luke skywalker #tw child death #tw violence #tw abuse #tw abuse mention #tw physical abuse

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vizslasaber · 17 days

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FRIENDLY FIRE ──── i.

summary: after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.

pairing: captain rex x female jedi!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it

a/n: it’s back!!! previously i posted this series on my main, @brrmian, but i changed that blog’s username and have mostly shifted over to fanart and general SW content. i’ve decided to dedicate this new side blog’s content entirely to fic writing under my old username, posting reader insert on here and everything else on ao3! this fic will be updated sparsely but definitely more often than it was on my main. i’ve changed a few things regarding the plot of this series specifically, and i like it a lot more now!!

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You hadn’t wanted to leave the Temple behind—you still don’t, even lightyears away from the Core.

When the Jedi Council had first made you aware of the plan to have you and a Master you’d never met capture an Umbaran airbase with troops that were not your own, you had put up something of a fight. What right, you demanded, did the Chancellor have the right to simply pull a Jedi from their sacred duty for a trivial air-to-ground assault?

The Council had either not wanted to answer this question or had not known how to, so now you stand on a transport gunship with two clone troopers and an intimidatingly tall Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell. Both of you are holding onto the grab handles hanging from the ceiling; you’re gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are slightly pale, but Krell looks perfectly steady.

Of course he is, you think bitterly. He has four arms.

The atmosphere of Umbara is breathable but strangely thick—fog seeps through the blast door openings, and the lights inside the gunship’s passenger bay seem to have dimmed. Your lightsabers bump against your hips and you wince slightly as sounds of frantic gunfire reach your ears.

This will be your first campaign.

You have seen death before, on missions as a Padawan before the war—but never on this scale, if the reports of your already-knighted friends from the Temple are anything to go by. You only hope that you will be assigned your own battalion soon, so you don’t have to go running around replacing wayward Generals.

It’s hard, standing at the side of an imposing Master, not to feel like a Padawan. The skin behind your right ear burns with the memory of the braid that had been there just last week, waiting to be sheared off as you prepared for your ascension to Knighthood.

While your battalion assignment is pending, Master Windu told you as you stood in the center of the Council Chamber, the Senate has requested that we send two Jedi Knights to replace Skywalker on Umbara.

Master Krell is already on-world, assisting Master Kenobi, but he will need another Jedi’s help if he and the 501st are to take the capital in Skywalker’s stead, Master Plo explained, his hologram flickering as he called in from some faraway world.

All due respect, Masters, you remember asking as you willed yourself not to tremble, but why me? I’ve never been anywhere near the front. I wouldn’t be much help.

Believe in your potential, we do, Master Yoda said. An opportunity for you to do good, the Force has given you.

And that, it was decided, was that.

Even now, after meditating on your anxiety for practically the entire journey through hyperspace, your nerves feel impossibly frayed. The transport jostles, but you only sway slightly, arm already holding onto an overhead handle for balance. There’s a shiny new military-issue commlink attached to your right vambrace. A morbid thought, of calling in a medevac for injured soldiers with this very communicator, crosses your mind—but you let it dissipate.

The gunship suddenly makes a sharp dive, and your stomach swoops—you must be about to land. You spare a glance at General Krell, who has now let go of the grab handles and has crossed all four of his arms over his chest. For a moment, you’re almost tempted to ask how he manages to stay so balanced while the ship is moving, but then the blast doors slide open and the gunship lands in shadowy darkness.

The first person you see is Anakin Skywalker. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger—despite having been knighted several years earlier, as one of the first Padawan victims of the Jedi Military Integration Act. Your Master, ever traditional even when the Order began to stray from its centuries-old teachings, did her best to keep you apprenticed for as long as possible, but even that eventually proved futile.

In the end, you and Anakin are practically of the same age, and yet he has infinite more experience than you. Uncertainty wheedles its way into your chest and slips a pin into your lungs; you’re holding your breath as you follow Krell off the gunship.

Being far shorter than the Besalisk, you have to jump down. When you hit the ground, you shiver at the misty atmosphere, watching as bioluminescent specks of dust fly up underneath your boots.

As the two of you approach, you hear the troopers of the 501st legion mutter amongst themselves, but you push it aside and focus on the pleasantries.

“General Krell. General Neridian,” Anakin says, smiling graciously. “My thanks for the air support.”

“Indeed, General Skywalker,” Krell replies, bowing politely. “The locals have proven to be more resourceful than we anticipated.”

“We managed to get here in one piece, though,” you add jokingly, and Anakin smirks, his eyes twinkling. You gesture to the troopers unloading the gunship behind you. “And we brought ration resupplies.”

Anakin nods appreciatively, then raises one eyebrow after a moment, looking slightly confused. “But—that’s not the reason for your visit.”

“No,” Krell admits. “The Council has ordered you back to Coruscant, effective immediately.”

“What?” Skywalker demands. “Wh-why?”

“The Chancellor...” you pause, searching for a word, before you settle on, “insisted that you return. The Council had no say on the matter.”

“That is all they would tell us,” Krell adds, though he doesn’t sound displeased.

“Well, I—I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin protests, and for the first time you notice the trooper standing at attention beside him.

He’s identical to all the clones you’ve met, of course, except for one detail—his hair is blond. You wonder vaguely if it would be polite to ask him whether or not it’s natural as you survey his armor. The pauldron on his left shoulder indicates a position of command, but he carries a sense of individuality in the Force that, despite your inexperience with working with them, you’ve come to realize every clone has. His helmet is painted with a distinctly Mandalorian sigil, but it’s not one you recognize.

His gaze is pointed directly ahead; he makes no eye contact with you. Probably just as annoyed at the change of plans as Anakin is, you realize.

Krell moves to speak, jolting you from your thoughts. You recognize Anakin’s agitation, however, so you calmly move to intercept.

“The Council would not just leave your troopers to fend for themselves—not that they aren’t perfectly capable of doing so, of course,” you add, which merits the barest hint of a smile from the trooper standing beside Anakin. “It’s just… well, the Senate needs a Jedi to be at the head of every campaign, and I guess they figured subtracting one of you would mean—”

“—adding two other Jedi,” Anakin says with a snort of derision. “Yeah… sounds like the Senate. But you guys’ll probably get it done faster anyway.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” interjects the trooper, and Anakin looks to him. “We’ll have this city under control by the time you’re back.”

“Generals, this is Captain Rex, my first in command,” Anakin says fondly, and you see something like pride show itself in Rex’s eyes. “You won’t find a finer or more loyal trooper anywhere.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you affirm earnestly.

“Yes, that is good to hear,” Krell agrees, then places a large hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I wish you well, Skywalker.”

Anakin simply nods at him, then stops beside you and says, “I hear you passed the Trials.”

You gesture to your hair, now void of a Padawan braid. “Apparently so,” you reply. “Funny, I didn’t think you were one to get swept into the rumour mill.”

A grin, boyish and bright, springs to Anakin’s face. “Nah, I’m always one for good gossip.” His expression turns softer, then, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, though… congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you say, but he’s already approaching the gunship and taking hold of one of the grab handles. The ship is off within seconds, and you can’t help but feel apprehensive as it flies away, up into the fog.

Taking a moment to gather yourself, you turn to Rex and offer a polite nod. He returns it, then says, “It is an honour to be serving with you, Generals.”

“The honour is all mine,” you return graciously, and Rex looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops when Krell begins to speak.

“I find it very interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honour,” he begins, then—almost as an afterthought—adds, “for a clone.”

Silence.

Your eyebrows shoot up, and as Rex stares at Krell in shock, you feel your armored chest tighten—with frustration or shock, you don’t yet know.

“Stand at attention when I address you,” Krell snaps, turning to face the other troopers, and as Rex obliges, you narrow your eyes and step forward.

“Master Krell,” you start, your jaw tightening, “I do believe it would be far more... prudent to show respect to the soldiers who have so graciously agreed to undertake this mission with us.” You tilt your head questioningly, sending your ponytail swaying. “After all—we are the ones who just arrived.”

A ripple of white-hot anger moves through the Force with lightning speed, but it’s gone before you can take time to process it. Now, all you can feel is something akin to gratitude, trickling like a cool waterfall from where Rex stands, back straight and eyes ahead.

“They agreed to nothing,” Krell counters, and you blink as his wide upper lip curls back to reveal a row of dangerously sharp teeth. “Do not forget, young one, that we are the Generals they serve under at present.”

“I...” you pause, momentarily at a loss for words, then clasp your hands behind your back and force your jaw to unclench. “I haven’t forgotten that. But I also haven’t forgotten that the only way to succeed in this endeavour is to work together.”

“And with what experience do you so kindly bestow this advice upon us, Knight Neridian?” Krell asks, and the question is like a bucket of ice water down the back of your robes.

You swallow, and search for the words to say, but none come. Cheeks burning with shame, you stare determinedly at the ground.

The tension in Krell’s Force signature disappears, as sudden as the crack of a whip, and he draws in a deep breath. You look up as the pouch-like piece of flesh under Krell’s chin grows in size and he begins to pace.

“Nevertheless,” Krell brushes off, acting as though none of your words register with him, “there’s a reason my command is so effective, and it’s because I do things by the book.” He walks past a soldier in an ARC Trooper uniform who has the number five tattooed on his right temple. The trooper doesn’t move as Krell passes him, but you can see a vein on his forehead bulge.

“And that includes protocol,” Krell puts in. He turns to you. “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately.”

You bristle. “I—I thought we were to make decisions together,” you protest, raising your chin defiantly.

Technically, there’s nothing to defy, seeing as you hold equal rank with Krell—but the Council specified in their briefing that this was supposed to be a learning experience, an introduction to combat before receiving your own battalion. And something about Master Krell demands respect, or at the very least obedience, despite the fact that you’re starting to want to do everything you can not to give it to him.

Krell simply huffs and turns around, his yellow eyes flashing, and walks away, leaving you surrounded by a platoon troopers.

You frown after him. “Well, now I know why Master Venn wished me good luck,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Some of the troopers snicker, but you hardly notice.

Your former master, Esya Venn, had pulled you aside just before leaving. The look on her face had been nothing short of concerned, but you’d shrugged it off in the moment, even when she’d told you to be careful, Padawan. She never told anyone to be careful—it was simply a reflex to think twice about your actions around Esya.

But now you understand.

Scrubbing a hand over your tired face, you take a deep breath and turn to Captain Rex. “Shall we set off?” you ask, and he nods, promptly putting on his helmet.

“Move out, soldiers!” he shouts, starting down the path after Krell. “Come on, let’s go!”

You give Rex a grateful smile, and though you can’t see his face, you know he’s returning it. With one last glance at the battalion, you hurry to the front and fall into step next to General Krell.

It’s silent for some time. Krell doesn’t deter, no matter how dark it gets, and after a while you begin to grow uncomfortable next to him. The anger you’d felt in the Force earlier is dormant, but certainly there, and it makes chills erupt down your spine.

"I’m going to check on the Captain,” you say, and Krell only nods when you turn around and quickly find Rex, who’s walking about two meters behind where you previously were.

The Captain salutes briefly. “General.”

“Captain,” you reply politely, before glancing back at Krell. “I can’t help but notice that there’s—” you pause for a moment. Do these troopers know enough about the Force to have conversations with you about it?

Knowing Anakin, you realize, they probably do, so you clear your throat and continue. “I get a strange feeling from Master Krell,” you say quietly.

Rex’s shoulders relax just slightly. “How so, sir?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I don’t know, exactly,” you reply, then gesture vaguely in front of you, where Krell is half-visible in the murky fog. “The Force around him is unclear. It’s... hard to explain.”

“Hard to explain, as in it’s a Jedi thing?” Rex guesses, and you grin widely.

“Yes,” you say. “It’s a Jedi thing.” Reaching up, you curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I may not be a Jedi, sir,” Rex says after a moment, “but I think I know what you mean by strange feeling.”

“Quicken that pace, battalion!” Krell suddenly shouts over his shoulder, and you jump. “This isn’t some training course on Kamino.”

You sigh and raise your voice, turning to the troopers. “What General Krell means,” you call, pointedly shooting a glare at the Besalik’s back, “is that we must continue to make good time. Keep up the good work.”

Krell gives no answer, but you feel a ripple of frustration coming from his direction. There’s another thread in the Force, one of gratitude, but you can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. You latch onto it nonetheless and file the feeling away for later, letting yourself make an easy pace just ahead of Rex.

“He certainly has a way with words,” you hear one of the clones say, and when you glance behind you out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the source is someone with similar armor to Rex’s. Another ARC, or someone of similar rank.

There’s a sigh. You think it’s from Rex. The troopers obviously don’t know you’re listening, so you direct your gaze ahead, keeping your pace steady.

“He’s just trying to keep us on schedule,” Rex explains, voice hushed and sounding a bit sheepish.

"By raising everyone’s ire?” the other trooper grumbles.

“Either way, he’s in charge,” Rex protests. “And we’ve got a job to do.”

“She’s in charge, too,” hisses the trooper, and you purse your lips, knowing he’s pointing to you.

Another sigh, again from Rex. “Just—treat them both with respect, and we’ll all get along fine.”

You’re about to turn around when your neck stiffens. It’s an instinctual reaction, like the Force tapping you on the shoulder—one that you’ve learned to interpret as a warning. Less than a second later, a loud screech echoes above your head.

“Ready your weapons!” Rex shouts, at the same moment you draw one lightsaber.

Faster than your eyes can process, a winged creature swoops down and grabs a trooper—but you don’t need your eyes. The cyan beam of your lightsaber casts a glow on the shadowy ground, and you jump upwards, landing on a large plant that allows you to swing from a vine and graze the blade across the wing of one of the creatures. It falls to the ground with another screech before flying away, relatively unharmed.

One to go.

You’re about to grab hold of a second vine and swing towards the other creature, but a flash of blurred blue and green makes you pull back—Krell beats you to it, landing on top of the creature and wrestling it to the ground.

“Wait—stop!” you shout as he draws his lightsabers, but it’s too late. He’s already skewered the creature mercilessly, and it lies dead on the ground, life blinking out of the Force in an instant.

You jump off of the large plant, landing on both feet, and hook your now deactivated lightsaber onto your belt. “Why did you kill it?” you demand, pushing past several onlooking clones.

“It is nothing more than a violent inhabitant of this area,” Krell dismisses, and you feel your jaw drop.

“But…” you start, at a loss for words. “The Code decrees—”

“The Code,” Krell says coldly as he turns to stare at you, “allows for self defense.”

You draw yourself up to your full height, switching off your lightsaber with a snap-hiss before hooking it back onto your belt. “That’s not what—”

Krell’s lightsabers deactivate loudly, cutting you off, and he returns them to either side of his belt before turning away and continuing on the path. “Anyone else want to stop and play with the animals?”

No one answers, but you feel your fists clench as if of their own accord.

This is going to be a long night.

Umbara’s plant life is fascinating. Observing the bioluminescent life forms is the only thing that serves a proper distraction from both the grumbling clone troopers and the pit of apprehension in your stomach. You’d been walking for twelve hours, give or take, and every time you’d tried to suggest a break to Krell, he’d snapped at you.

This can’t be allowed, you think bitterly, skipping over a glowing pink tree root, boots skidding on the dark purple ground.

You chew on your bottom lip and glance at the clones behind you. They are understandably worn out, and even with the extensive survival training Master Esya drilled into you as a Padawan, you were starting to get tired, too.

“Sir,” says a voice from behind you, and you jump, expecting in your exhaustion to see Krell—but it’s just Rex.

“We’ve been keeping this pace for almost half a rotation,” Rex points out, sounding vaguely nervous. “The men are... starting to tire. General Krell is...” he tilts his head, expressionless visor unreadable. “You know.”

You muster a smile, hoping you look at least a little like Master Enya, and nod.

“I know, Captain,” you say, and he shifts slightly, as though his blue-painted pauldron is uncomfortable. You can’t blame him. Running a hand over your ponytail, you blow out a breath and frown at the puff of air that appears in front of you. “Let me talk to him. Tell the men to start searching for a good spot to camp for a few hours.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rex giving an affirmative thumbs up to the troopers behind him, but by then you’re already approaching Krell, clasping your hands tightly behind your back.

“Master Krell,” you start, and Krell turns his head just a bit. “I’ve told the men to scout for a place to rest. I reviewed the mission plan on the way here, and we can spare three hours without being delayed, possibly more—”

“The men don’t need rest,” Krell interrupts, and you feel your cheeks flush with anger. “They need resolve to complete the task at hand.”

“Apologies, Master,” you say, squaring your shoulders as frustration heats your neck and face. You breathe deeply. There is no emotion, only peace. “But I don’t think the men will be on their best game when we reach the capital if they don’t take some time to gather themselves.”

“That they need to ‘gather themselves’ is a sign of weakness,” Krell cuts in, stopping and turning to face you with a sneer. “That is not what these clones were bred for.”

Not far away, many of the soldiers bristle at Krell’s choice of words, but you keep your focus on the yellow eyes staring you down for the second time that night.

“They weren’t bred to be mindless droids, either,” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest and making sure to keep your voice even. “And in case you’ve forgotten, even battle droids need to recharge. If we march on the Capital without any sort of break first, I promise you, this mission will not go as planned. Exhausted and underfed soldiers are a guaranteed disadvantage.”

Krell studies you, a sneer forming on his lips. “I see you take after your Master’s incessant need to get the last word on anyone she disagrees with.”

You scowl. “I beg your pardon, but Master Venn is—”

He ignores you, cutting past where you stand and walking away. “Do what you wish, Neridian,” he dismisses, then walks away to stand by a glowing tree.

A sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. It’s becoming harder and harder not to snap at him—but you know what the Order’s teachings require of you. Emotion, yet peace.

You grimace as Krell retreats to the back of the line, then turn back to the troopers nearby and give Rex a nod. The captain returns it in what you hope is a grateful manner, then calls for the men to make camp at the top of the ridge your group has been climbing.

By the time you gather all the troopers together, the battalion has put together a hasty campsite, with half the troopers having fallen into a fitful sleep and the other half keeping watch while eating as many rations as the limit allows. You frown and approach the trooper you heard Rex talking to earlier, his Force signature familiar from when you were eavesdropping. His helmet is now sitting in his lap, being meticulously cleaned with what little supplies the battalion has on hand.

You study the soldier. He has a tattoo on his right temple, and upon studying it, you realize it’s the same ARC trooper who’d been glaring at Krell when you stepped off the gunship. You wonder what significance the number five has to him.

Taking another step forward, you clear your throat. “Trooper,” you begin, and the soldier looks up curiously before abruptly shooting to his feet and snapping off a salute. You wave a nonchalant hand. “No need for that. I only wanted to ask a favor—can you gather troopers to stand watch? Six at a time, tops, and make sure they take turns so everyone can rest. That includes you.”

“You got it, sir,” says the trooper, and you smile.

“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name...” you say, then, and the trooper blinks.

“Oh, uh—it’s Fives, sir.”

“I see,” you reply, gaze flickering to his tattoo and back again. “Thank you, Fives.”

You retreat to your own tent soon after, shrugging off your vambraces and arranging them neatly next to your bedroll. This wouldn’t be the shortest sleep cycle you’d had, what with the nature of your apprenticeship at the temple—but not the longest, either.

From what you can hear inside your tent, the camp is silent. Slowly, you poke your head through the canvas flaps to find exactly six men—as you’d requested—sitting in the center of camp. Farther away, at the outskirts of the circle of tents, sits Master Krell’s hulking form. In spite of yourself, you frown.

“General?” asks a sudden voice above you; letting out an involuntary yelp, you scramble backwards before stopping at the sight of Rex standing near the entrance to your tent.

Embarrassed, you stand up, brushing off your cream-coloured robes. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I could swear I’m not usually so jumpy, I don’t know what—” you look up and stop short.

Rex has removed his helmet.

His blond hair isn’t a surprise this time around, but close up, you’re struck by how tired he looks. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but his face is cast in exhausted shadows.

You wonder if a full night’s sleep is something he’s ever had, or if the training regiments on Kamino prepared him and his brothers for this kind of halfhearted sleep cycle. Curiously, you study him.

Rex’s eyes are golden-brown in the dying light of this shadowy planet. They’re the same shade as all the troopers in the immediate vicinity. And yet, as you stare into them, something in you stirs as your Force signature brushes against his—something you know you’re not supposed to feel.

“Er, General,” Rex repeats, jolting you from your faraway thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know—the scouts are detecting a clear journey from here on out. We have approximately four hours to kick back, as predicted.”

Hurriedly, you turn away and clear your throat awkwardly. “Very good, Captain,” you mumble. “Thank you. You’re—erm, free to go and rest.”

For a moment, Rex looks surprised, but he composes himself seconds later. “Thank you, General,” he says. “But I—”

“Not up for debate,” you interrupt, holding your hand up. Bemused, Rex blinks, so you shoot him a reassuring smile. “You said it yourself: the soldiers need rest. You’re a soldier, yes?”

Rex opens his mouth, probably to say something about him being a Captain, but you lower your hand to rest it on his shoulder. The kind gesture seems to quell him, so you continue. “Don’t exclude yourself in that. Rest well, Captain.”

When you turn and reenter your tent, you don’t catch the way Rex’s eyes linger on the closed flap for far longer than they should, heat prickling up his neck as the remnant of your touch burns itself through his pauldron.

“You too… General.”

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 3 months

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star wars but I've never watched it

I'm flirting with death (the star wars fandom) and it's about to succumb. I mean, be seduced. I promise when I flirt the intended result is not succumbing (usually). Here, have this, I know you maggots have missed my summaries they're so comprehensive and well-researched. Two cups of black coffee down. LET'S GO, MAGGOTS.

It is not Star Trek, and if I mix them up, both fandoms will tear me limb from limb, but mainly Star Trek because they're less popular?

No, that was not intended to be inflammatory, it's just what I was warned when I first got kidnapped. Don't blame the student, blame the system.

LUKE, I AM YOUR FATHER.

Except that's actually a misquote, it's No, I am your father. Mad trivia game. Huge star wars fan, me (why do I sound like Crowley).

It's set in outer space.

Are daleks stormtroopers?

Yoda pulls sentences in half like Crowley pulls Aziraphale's legs apart while they're not talking, and then tries interesting positions.

Leia has space-buns and makes out with Luke.

Luke is Leia's brother.

Anakin, whom I thought was some sexy babygirl side character, is apparently Darth Vader.

I am certain some people still find him a sexy babygirl. I just hope if he has a sister, she doesn't.

Is incest hereditary? Besides the obvious, I mean.

Small and green, Yoda is.

Daleks or not, there are storm-troopers, and they wear white plastic but not in a kinky way. Mostly. I remember one video a maggot showed me of a dustbin and--anyway.

They have bad aim.

There is a Death Star, and there is also a Death Star in Star Trek, but this is the more obvious one.

It has machinery specially engineered so if you shoot at that one place, the entire spaceship explodes or shuts down, which is a convenient feature.

A baby Yoda, they made. To make merchandise in time, Disney failed. Money, they lost.

There's something called the Force which everyone irl uses to try and get their remote to fly to them while sitting on the couch watching TV. They squint and reach out their hand while doing this. It rarely works.

There are a lot of unnecessary sequels and prequels. People are not happy.

A lot of Star Wars has inspiration drawn from ancient Indian philosophy and Hindu mythology. Just fun trivia, since I'm such a huge Star Wars fan.

Chewbacca?

R2D2? Robot go beep beep.

Han Solo and Leia get together.

Who is Han Solo? The guy who witnessed Leia making out with her brother. Whatever gets you off, king.

Dead, Yoda might be. Not sure, I am.

Rogue 1?

Return of the... Empire? No, wait, Jedi.

Empire Strikes Back!

Jedi exist. Because uh, it was in the title. They'd better exist.

Luke's daddy cuts off his hand. Not in a sexual way. But you never know with this family.

End (Not. Disney is going to milk this cash cow till they run out of ideas because of underpaid writers, and then they'll do a remake, probably).

Welcome, you are. Comprehensive, all-inclusive, this summary is.

#good omens mascot #asmi #star wars #good omens #<- got to love the brainrot #it even sneaks into my other fandom posts #maggots #empire strikes back #han solo #luke skywalker #yoda #weirdly specific but ok #rogue one #star wars summary #return of the jedi #sw fandom #star wars fandom

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anakinskywalkerog · 9 months

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My Very Soul (Chapter 33)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 32

Warnings: grief!! depression!!! tread lightly!! things will get better, our girl will heal, but please engage with this only if you feel good/healthy yourself! also, drama/angst, but that's what you get from me

Summary: Anakin comforts you after the death of your Master; you wrestle with some difficult truths, and agree to train with someone new

Word Count: 2.7k

It was heavy. There was no other way to explain it. Your grief was a heavy pillow, suffocating you as you lay in your bed. You felt like the sheets might swallow whole you under the weight. The feel of Anakin's arms around you faded in the face of the soft, quiet, heavy feeling pressing on you. It was like being underwater. It was like trying to fight wind stronger than a hurricane. It pushed you down, and you felt like you had no strength to fight against it.

You'd awoken after Felucia in the Temple's medical chamber, Anakin at your side. You had no memory of anything that had happened after Yuma had been killed, and you didn't understand why Anakin looked so full of relief, why he had tears in his eyes at the sight of you. Obi-Wan had simply explained that you had lost consciousness, similar to the way you had when encountering Dooku's presence. Something in Anakin's face told you that it wasn't quite that simple.

Still, you couldn't find it in yourself to care, much, about what had happened after your Master had been taken from you. You couldn't find it in yourself to care about anything at all, other than the arms that remained around you, other than having Anakin by your side. You found that there were times when even that desire started to fade; when you felt the heaviness pressing in and lost any feeling at all.

"Y/N," Anakin whispered, shaking your arm a little, reaching over to run his fingers gently through your thick hair, pushing it away from your face. Every so often he would say something like this, something soft and gentle, like he were trying to make sure you could still hear him.

"I'm here," you replied, not looking at him, but reaching out and gripping his sleeve. Anakin brushed away the tears that fell softly and steadily out of your eyes and onto the sheets of the big bed in your Jedi apartment, situated in the Knight's Billet in the Temple. This is where you had remained for days, barely moving, barely sleeping or eating, struggling to fight the weight in order to keep breathing.

After you had left the medical chambers, you had recounted to the Council how Vyra had lured you into that cave, how she had manipulated the severity of the battle on Felucia and used the Sith dwelling to call to you in order to trap you and 'torture' you. You had told them what she had said of her reason for doing so, her grudge that she had held since you had been assigned your mission on Serenno. You had explained what she had recounted about Dooku and his mysterious "Master"; you'd noticed that Yoda and Windu had shared a look at that information. You couldn't bring yourself to care, at the moment, what that meant. You had struggled for breath, standing in the center of that circle of Jedi atop the tall tower, as you had recounted the last moments of Yuma's life: how she had been in the throes of a horrible vision, caused by the poison that made her live through her worst fears. You could barely get the words out when you described Vyra killing your Master, and taking her lightsaber. Obi-Wan had stood up to walk you out, his hand on your back the whole way back to your apartment, his face grim. You hadn't emerged since.

"Y/N," Anakin said again, stroking your face, your arm. "You need to eat something." You shook your head. The thought of moving at all, let alone eating, drinking, sounded too hard. You felt the heaviness pressing in on you.

"I love you," Anakin said again, and the agony in his presence was like a spark, a stabbing pain that brought you out of the heavy feeling, if only for a moment. Your eyes filled, again, with tears.

"I know," you whispered, looking into his eyes.

"I'll be here with you," Anakin said, reaching forward to kiss your eyelids, brushing the tears away with the gentle press of his lips. "I won't let them make me leave."

"You can't stay forever, Ani," you sighed, curling into him, wishing your words weren't true.

"I won't—"

Anakin cut off his words, feeling the same disturbance in the Force that made your senses heighten. Someone was coming.

A soft knock sounded on the door of the apartment. You and Anakin both looked at each other, sensing the presence that stood outside.

"Maybe he'll leave," you breathed into Anakin's ear, not moving. Anakin remained still, listening. You waited, holding your breath.

"Y/N," you heard, Obi-Wan's soft voice calling through the door as he knocked again. If he came into the apartment, it would only take a few steps past the kitchen for him to see through the open bedroom door, where he would find you and Anakin in bed together—

"What do we do?" you whispered, panicked, your eyes widening. Numb with grief you may be; but if you and Anakin were caught, it could risk your position in the Order. Anakin's eyes darted around, and landed on the tiny wardrobe built into the wall. Jedi Knights were granted little storage space, as they were not to keep possessions of their own.

"Anakin, he'll sense you!" you whispered frantically, but Anakin was already up and running in his boxers to the wardrobe. He sucked in his gut and used the force to close the wardrobe's doors as you heard Obi-Wan's voice sound again from outside the door.

"Y/N, I'm coming in," Obi-Wan said, his voice gentle and suppliant. You pulled yourself up in your bed, fighting against the heaviness in your limbs as you used the Force to summon your robe, hastily throwing it on over your nightgown as the door to your apartment opened and Obi-Wan stepped inside.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Obi-Wan said as he walked forward to stand in the open door of your bedroom. You knew you probably looked like Moraband; you hadn't visited the refresher in days, and your hair was a tangled mess on your head. You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts linger on the dark circles under your eyes.

"That's all right, Master," you replied, your voice hoarse. Obi-Wan walked forward and pulled the chair near the window around so that it was facing you. You gulped as he turned, looking back to you as if to ask, may I ? You nodded, gesturing that he should sit. Obi-Wan had never been inside your apartment before—his presence startled you enough that you felt the heavy numbness backing away from you.

"I came to bring you this," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward in the chair and pulling something from the pocket of his robes. As he reached out to hand it to you, you sighed in amazement.

"How...?" you asked, leaning forward to take your lightsaber from him and gripping it. You felt each familiar divot of the hilt like you had found an old friend lost to time; you felt the ghosts of tears prickle behind your eyes, and you willed them away.

"I recovered it for you, on Felucia," Obi-Wan responded quietly. "When you were found, in that cave." His tone was careful, quiet, and solemn. "I wanted to return it to you before, but...it seemed a difficult enough moment." You thought back to facing the Council, to the whirlwind of emotions you'd faced upon waking up here, in the Temple, without your Master, for the first time in your life.

"Thank you," you managed to get out, looking back up at him and keeping your tears at bay. He simply nodded. You looked around, feeling awkward, working to keep your gaze anywhere but on the wardrobe behind Obi-Wan's back.

"I also..." Obi-Wan started, and you met his gaze, his face lit by the rays of sun streaming in through the partially closed blinds. "I am also here because I wanted to make a proposition to you."

You squinted, gripping your robe around yourself, inclining your head to indicate that he should continue.

"You are, of course, under no obligation to do so..." Obi-Wan started, rubbing his hands over his mustache and through his beard. "But...I know how important it was to Yuma that you work on your ability, to block out the presences of the Sith." At these words, your heart dropped. The weight came back in full force, pushing you down. It was an effort to keep yourself seated, to not lay back into the sheets and give in to the heaviness that pressed into you. You swallowed, nodding. "I would like to continue your training, in that regard," Obi-Wan said, watching you intently, his voice soft. "Not to pick up where Yuma left off, necessarily. But to work to make sure you are fully in control of your abilities...so that, when the time comes that you must protect yourself, you are as prepared as you can be. I would like to do everything in my power to help you."

You struggled to breathe evenly, working the air in and out of your lungs. You knew that Obi-Wan meant well—that he was trying to show care for you, and for Yuma, by offering to help. And you knew you needed the help, knew now that your susceptibility to the dark side of the Force was a liability. So you couldn't help but hear the unspoken truth behind Obi-Wan's words—that it was your fault, what had happened on Felucia. That if you had made more progress in your lessons with Yuma, she would still...

Be here, you finished in your head, your eyes welling up against your will. You didn't need Obi-Wan to tell you. You knew the truth. You knew who was responsible for Yuma's death.

"Y/N," Obi-Wan started, leaning forward like he wanted to do something to comfort you, but you shook your head, letting the tears fall.

"I'll do it," you said, pushing against the heaviness. "I'll train with you." It was all you could manage. Obi-Wan paused, as if debating, then leaned back in his chair, putting his hand down.

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice contemplative. "I'd like to start right away, given that the war has made it so my time at the Temple is limited. Tomorrow?" You nodded, looking away from him, your face flushed at your embarrassment. You'd never cried in front of Obi-Wan, and you didn't like it—you didn't want to feel weak around him, the Jedi who was always so very much in control. Until recently, you'd thought of yourself and Obi-Wan as similar souls, similar warriors who kept their emotions in check. You now realized that you were useless in more ways than one, that people like Obi-Wan would always surpass you. You wanted to go back to sleep.

"The last thing..." Obi-Wan continued, his voice unnervingly gentle. "I wanted to tell you," he said, leaning forward in his chair, waiting until you looked up to meet his gaze, "that you aren't alone. Though I know that no one and nothing could ever replace what Yuma was to you—to all of us—I want you to know that you still have family, here. That you still have a mentor that cares for you deeply." You blinked, the brazen affection in this statement disarming you.

"And that if you ever need to discuss anything," Obi-Wan continued, "anything, even things that you wouldn't bring to others in the Order, you can come to me. Whenever you need." You could have sworn Obi-Wan glanced infinitesimally toward the wardrobe, but it was so fast, you must have been imagining it.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," you said, your voice small, your gratitude sincere. You felt so much affection and adoration for the Jedi Master sitting in front of you. You wished only that his faith in you wasn't so displaced. You felt your body shaking, the effort of pushing off the weight beginning to wear on you.

"That's all," Obi-Wan said, smiling at you as he stood, walking toward the door. "I'll expect you in the meditation chambers tomorrow." You nodded, feeling drained. "Don't—don't be unkind to yourself," Obi-Wan added, pausing in the bedroom doorway to turn back to you. "All of this is hard enough as it is." You nodded again, wondering how he could sense what you were thinking so accurately. Obi-Wan turned away, striding for the door to the apartment.

You listened as the front door slid shut, waiting, your heart beating. He didn't return. You sank back into your pillows, pulling the robe around you in a cocoon as you heard the wardrobe door slide open.

Anakin didn't say anything as he lay down next to you, pulling your whole body and cradling it in his arms, burying his face in your hair.

"Training might be a good thing," Anakin whispered, in a tone like he was trying to sound optimistic. You pulled yourself closer to him, your body quivering as if you were cold. You felt the tears at the edge of your eyes again, felt the quivers turn into quiet sobs.

"I'm here," Anakin said, kissing your head and stroking your back. "I'm here." What else could he say? Everything certainly wasn't okay. You tried in vain to calm the sobs, but they continued. Whenever you fought the numbness enough to stave it off, this was what happened. It was, in some ways, worse to feel.

"I should have been there," Anakin said vengefully, his voice shaky, "I shouldn't have left you." You inhaled, quickly, another sob breaking out of you.

"Are you saying—are you saying that you could have prevented it?" You pulled back in Anakin's arms, looking him in the face, your eyes wide. "That it's my fault, that she's...that she's...?" you felt your body continue to shake. Unfamiliar anger pulsed through you, the bitter anger that was only self-directed. You needed somewhere to put it. Nothing made sense, anymore. Your brain turned to fire.

"No, of course—no, Y/N, of course that's not—" Anakin started, alarmed, gripping your arms as you pulled farther away from him.

"You don’t have to say that, because I already know!" you replied, shouting now, as you pulled yourself out of the bed, standing before him. Anakin was on his feet immediately, his arms outstretched for you, but you backed away. "I know what happened is my fault entirely!! If I hadn’t—choked—if I had just listened—"

"Y/N, no, no, that's not it, no, listen to me, that's not..."

"You heard Obi-Wan," you continued, sobbing again. "And you said it yourself. Yuma was right. I was a liability, and because of me, my Master is dead."

"Y/N!" Anakin was shouting now, reaching out for you again, but you pushed him away, backing into the corner of your bedroom and sinking to the floor.

"Just leave," you choked, closing your eyes, feeling the world around you start to sway. "Just go." The world was starting to fade.

"Y/N," Anakin said gently, moving toward you slowly, his arms outstretched like he was approaching a loose rancor. "Y/N, it isn't your fault. None of it was your fault. I didn't think that for one second, and neither does Obi-Wan."

"Just leave," you repeated, softly, your sobs coming freely now. You didn't deserve to be comforted. You wanted to descend into oblivion. You were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, in your arms. You looked around, but saw that your vision was blurring over.

"I can't do that," Anakin murmured softly, and you felt his hands prying at your arms. You hadn't realized you'd been gripping your knees so tightly. You started to breathe quickly. "Look at me, Y/N," Anakin whispered, and you looked around, frantic now, your eyes clouded, unable to see. "Come back to me," Anakin breathed into your ear, and you blinked, his face swimming into view.

"I can't ever leave you," Anakin said, pulling you into his arms right there on the floor. You wanted to reply. You wanted to tell him that you couldn't ever leave him, either. You wanted to promise that the two of you would be together forever. But the world had changed, when Yuma had been taken from you. Or, you had changed. You now knew that everyone, no matter how much you loved them, would someday vanish. You didn't understand it—how one day, someone could be so very real, and the next, they could be gone. And Anakin would vanish, someday, too. You leaned into him, feeling how very real and alive he felt, with his arms around you. You felt the heaviness descend as you wept.

************************************************************************

NEW CHAPTER UP NOW!!!!!

just imagine this Obi-Wan comforting you after reading this angst 😂🤓

divider credit to @racingairplanes

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