#( comlink ) answered asks.

[thirdsght]

a war hammer pounds in his chest; rivk's heartbeat chases his gasps of breath. adrenaline lit his body like a live wire, staving of the ache from the rapid swinging of his scythes. blood dripped from the weapon onto the ground. rivk wiped the crimson liquid carelessly onto his jacket and stowed the blade in the sheath across from its twin. ❝ that was insane ❞ he rasps out. His cracking voice regains its deep, smooth timbre. ❝ I barely saw that ambush in my foresight ❞

rownei ren utters: a lot can change in twenty seconds .

❝ yeah. i guess it can. ❞ the post battle high moves his arms like puppet strings. before he realizes what he's doing, he is gripping row's chin and slotting their lips together. seconds? minutes? pass. the spell breaks. rivk's logical mind reels him backward slowly. it takes him a couple of seconds to slowly pull his hand away with one last thumbstroke along row's jawline. ❝ i've never seen you fight like that. it was hot. ❞ he smirks to hide that strange warm feeling in his chest. it's just sex right? rownei's smart and cute and they have fun together. nothing more. it can't be. rivk doesn't do relationships. the overhead of confused thoughts twists his brow. he drops it for now and throws a friendly arm around row's shoulder. ❝ c'mon, let's get a drink or five. ❞

[saphronethaleph]

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

[thesassypadawan]

Beloved Master (Unburnt Darth Vader x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: After a traumatic series of events, you find yourself being held captive by the sith lord known as Darth Vader. Alone and unarmed, you wish so badly for your beloved master to be here with you. Be careful of what you wish for.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.Size difference, hint of a breeding kink, and Vader’s big dick. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes:  The 'What If' Version: Beloved Master *Fragmented*

This is a non-burnt Vader fic.  Everything is still intact and has been ‘enhanced’ by the dark side of the force.

“Now behave yourself, jedi, the lord will be with you shortly.” The male attendant sneered, taking great joy in your current predicament.

Standing there, wearing nearly nothing; you tried your best to maintain what little dignity you had left. You gave him a small nod and muttered a quick thanks, before stepping inside the room.

“Try not to have too much fun,” he chuckled darkly and closed the door behind him.

Hearing the locks hiss into place, you began to reflect on the events that led up to this moment.

It had only been a few nights ago that you stood in the temple’s meditation garden. Waiting patiently for your beloved master to return from an ‘emergency meeting’. When your private comlink was hailed, his voice ringing out from it. “Run. Run swiftly. Run to me.”

Everything was fragmented and hazy after that.

The night sky was orange. There were cries of agony and pain all around you. The temple, your home, was engulfed in flames.

You felt utterly hopeless. Worried horribly about your master. Completely devastated at the thought of not saying those words to him one last time.

You tried to run, but someone tugged hard on your arm. Yelling at you to come with them, to ignore his call. Something happened to that someone in a blaze of blue light.

You were no longer being pulled, but carried away from the chaos. Being whispered to that it was ‘all going to be okay, you’re safe’.

That’s when your whole world went dark.

When you awoke, you found yourself locked up in a holding cell. Dressed in the most ridiculous outfit you have ever seen. One that left very little to the imagination.

You did not remain there long. Soon after, the male attendant had arrived. He, along with a pair of clone troopers, then escorted you swiftly to their lord’s private quarters. Apparently, this Vader fellow wanted to have an audience with you rather badly.

It was with this grim thought in mind that the weight of your situation truly set in.

You were alone. Stuck on an unknown planet, which you could feel was entirely encompassed in the dark side of the force. You were without your saber, it’s comforting presence no longer hanging from your hip. And, most gravely, you were about to presumably meet a sith lord.

Scanning your surroundings, you hoped to find something you could possibly use to defend yourself. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the lavish bed chamber that would provide much help.

You heard the door behind you slide open and then close.

Swallowing hard, you tried to compose yourself. Your master had always said to keep your wits about you when facing down an enemy. To stay centered within the force. To keep your mind clear.

How you so wished he was here with you now.

“I am, padawan of mine.”

Your eyes grew wide. “Master?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Is that really you?”

Not waiting for an answer, you quickly whirled around. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over you. Standing before you, a gentle smile on his face, was…

“It’s me”, Anakin muttered.

Without a second thought you ran to him. And he easily scooped you up into his strong arms.

Burying your face into his tunic; you finally let the hot tears flow free. “Ani, it was horrible!” You sobbed softly.

Stroking your hair, he gently swayed back and forth with you. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s all over.”

You squeezed him tight and whimpered. “I thought I had lost you.”

“Hey, look at me.” Hooking two fingers under your chin, he tilted your face upwards. “We’re never going to lose each other.”

Placing his hand on your cheek, he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “I made sure that we will always be together…no matter what,” he said malevolently.

Hearing his tone, it was as if you were suddenly released from sort of spell. Anakin was no longer the same, in oh so many ways.

His entire form had changed. He once only stood a head and a half taller, and now he absolutely dwarfed you. His hands were huge. His muscles blown enormous. He looked like an absolute beast, with yellow eyes and a heavy dark aura to match.

Maker, help you. He was the sith lord and you were finding it hard to resist him.

“Ani,” you spoke slowly, reaching to place a tiny hand on his chiseled chest. “What have you done?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, angel,” he replied nonchalantly. “I did what was necessary.”

Tightening his arm around your waist, he somehow pulled you in even closer. “You should be more worried about what I’m going to do to you in that outfit,” he whispered huskily.

A small squeak escaped you as you were suddenly swept off your feet and whisked over to the bed.

Trapped underneath him, it truly sunk in how utterly massive he had become…and how tiny you were in comparison. You shivered at the thought. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you weren’t quite sure.

“What is it, padawan?” He chuckled, hovering above menacingly. “Afraid of your master?”

You shuddered once more as Anakin brushed his clothed length against your inner thigh. Stars, he felt gigantic. “No, master,” you whimpered.

A wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Good, because this is where the fun begins.”

He crashed his lips into yours. The kiss was hungry and passionate. The kind that made you wrap your arms around his thick neck and desperately pulled him closer, deepening it.

You could hear a rumble of approval in his chest. The sound causes a warmth to spread throughout your entire body.

Parting for air, Anakin gave you a mischievous look before burying his face into your neck. He kissed and bit at the sensitive flesh. Making you purr. Marking you as his for all to see.

His hand, all the while, lazily slid down your form. Coming to rest on your breast, he cupped and gave it a firm squeeze. Eliciting a soft moan from you.

“I love the sounds you make for me,” he muttered against your skin.

“Ani,” you mewled, hands tangling in his golden curls.

“I wonder,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your body. “What kind you’ll make when I do this?”

“Kriff!” You cried out as his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. Sucking and nibbling at it through the paper-thin fabric. Causing your back to arch, your hips glancing one another in a fiery touch. You both groaned.

“Or better yet,” he whispered, sitting back on his legs. “What delicious sound will escape you when I do this?” With the wave of his two fingers, Anakin used the force to…

You let out a frightened squeal as the meager clothes were torn from your form. Instinctively you tried to cover yourself up with your hands, but he easily captured them in his much large one.

Pinning your arms above your head, he playfully scolded. “Now, now, don’t be shy. Let me see that beautiful body, little one.”

That name, it made you shiver. You could feel the dampness and you both knew it had shot straight to your soaking core.

“Oh? You liked that didn’t you?” He taunted, running his other big hand up and down your leg.

Wriggling beneath him, your cheeks burned hot. “I-I did, master,” you replied weakly.

He laughed darkly at your embarrassment and gave your hip a firm squeeze. “Tell me, tiny padawan of mine, what else would you like?”

“Your cock,” you whimpered. “I would like your cock inside of me.”

“Are you sure about that?” He mocked, flashing you a smirk.

Anakin used the force once more. This time removing his own clothes. Revealing…

Your eyes widened and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, a true monster. And yet, you wanted him oh so badly.

“Please!” You begged; your voice laced with need. “Want it!”

“I don’t know.” He laid his heavy cock on your pussy, dragging it slowly between your folds. “You were barely able to take me before I became like this. Aren’t you afraid of what will happen now?”

You moaned softly as you found yourself slipping into a haze. “Don’t care! Need it!”

Suddenly, he removed all friction. You were about to whine in protest, until you felt him lining himself up with your entrance.

“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

In a single, fluid motion, he pushed inside of you.

The two of hissed together, as you took every thick inch.

“So tight,” he growled as he bottomed out.

“So big,” you mewled. Relishing how full it made you feel. How his tip was dangerously pressed against your cervix.

Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he snaps them forward. Pounding into you at a brutal pace. Giving you no time to adjust to his colossal size.

“A-Ani…” You slurred, eyes going crossed from the stretch. “S-So big, An-Ani…”

He groaned at seeing your tummy bulge every time he thrusted back into you. “Yes, so big and yet your tiny cunt is taking me so well. Tell me, hatari, how much do you love it?”

You could feel the heat beginning to build in your core, tugging at you. “I love it! Love it so much!”

“Needy little thing,” he grunted. “Be a good girl now, let me into that perfect womb of yours. Going to fill you up so full. Going to make you heavy with the heir to my new empire.”

“M-Master…” You could barely form a sentence; you were so overwhelmed.

With a few more deep thrusts, he breached past the tight rim. Getting exactly what he wanted. “That’s it, that’s my sweet padawan,” he cooed.

You could feel the tears of ecstasy running down your cheeks. Your pussy clenching around him from the extra stretch. You were so painfully close and Anakin could tell.

“Let go,” he panted. “We’ll cum together, just like always.”

You went crashing over the edge. Mind blanking as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

His cock twitched inside of you. Filling you to the brim and beyond with his seed. Making your stomach round.

Catching your breath. Smiling warmly at one another. You both basked in the afterglow of it all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, still buried deep within you. Anakin placed a tender kiss on your forehead and whispered. “I love you. You’re going to look so beautiful carrying our child, my empress.”

A cold chill ran through you as you came back down from your high. You knew you should be terrified. That you should be distraught over the events that led up to this.

But as you gazed up into those yellow eyes…none of that mattered anymore. All that did was you being right by his side.

“I love you too, Lord Vader.”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Step Towards Him

Part Two of Betrayal. Or how meeting Gothams Vigilantes leads you to look for your ex. Does it count as a Fix-it fic if it's my own work? I do not follow the canon timeline in this. ~2.8k words

The world changes for you after that night, after finding out your boyfriend is a crime lord. And not just any crime lord. Gotham's biggest. It shatters you. You take some time off of work, request to be transferred off the case. Gordan gives you strange, worried looks over it, but doesn't ask. It makes you want to hide in your office and sob.

The world changes around you too. You try to ignore the reports about Red Hood, but you can't. Not when helicopters catch footage of him confronting Batman. Not when he's sighted entering an abandoned building before it explodes. (No, you don't throw up when you hear the news. Or let out uncontrollable sobs in the bed that he used to share.) Not when he comes back as some sort of vigilante, a protector of crime alley. (No, you don't drop to your knees in relief in front of the television.)

Your life finds some rhythm of normal. You go to work. You cook dinner alone. You curl under your comforter. You convince yourself the bed doesn't feel empty. That life is normal. Except some things aren't. 

It starts with Nightwing. He drops down next to you when you're picking through an active crime scene. It doesn't set off any warning bells at first, the Bats always seem to be where they're needed. Then he speaks.

"So, you and Red Hood?" He asks, voice light and teasing.

You nearly jump out of your skin to look at him wide eyed, before your head whips around to see if anyone's heard. They haven't, the crime scene is empty save for the two of you. You turn back to him, hackles raised and eyes narrowed. "How do you–"

He shrugs, smiling easily like he's not dragging the shattered pieces of your heart across the coals. "Found out by accident."

"Well, we aren't together anymore." You huff, averting your gaze from him and back to the crime scene. You know he's analyzing you, even under his relaxed demeanor. You're just not sure what he's looking for. 

"That's a shame." Nightwing chirps, spinning the sticks in his hands you know are equipped with enough electricity to bring down a rhino. 

You can't help the wince you make at that. "Why?"

"It seems like he really liked you." 

You tap your fingers against your thigh anxiously, a mannerism he definitely sees. You know Jason– Red Hood liked you. He used to say all that and more against your skin when he thought you were sleeping. (You don't relive that memory when everything's heavy and your stomach twists and you need something good.) "It's in the past." You answer instead. 

He opens his mouth to answer, but you never hear what he wanted to say. The sound of lab techs arriving at the crime scene draws your attention. By the time you turn back to him, he's already gone. You shake your head, trying not to read into the vigilantes' words. Damn Bats.

There's a kid in your office. Not just any kid. Red Robin. Ok, sure, he's not exactly a child, but he's definitely a teenager and definitely should not be sitting at your desk, in your office, and typing on your computer.

"Um, hello, Red Robin. Is there something I can do for you...?" You ask, lingering in the middle of the room. 

He looks up, turning your computer slightly towards you. You step closer to look. "Have you thought about using this cipher here?"

You glance over the screen. Huh. He's right. That code had been troubling you for a week. Leave it to a Bat to get it done in a day. "Oh. Thanks, that's pretty impressive work."

He grins at you and sits back in your seat. "That means you have some free time to talk to me?"

You eye him wearily, remembering your encounter with Nightwing. "I– yeah. Sure. Of course I do."

"Great!" He practically lights up and starts rambling. "Did you know Red Hood has a direct comlink to the batcave? And he saved that family from the Park Row explosion last week. Did you know he likes to read? He's kind of a nerd but–"

"Woah, woah, hey." You cut him off. "Look, I heard about the rescue and I know about the– uh, reading stuff, okay? What's this about?" He studies you, he can probably read your emotions better than you know them yourself. He probably knows exactly what you're feeling about Red Hood.

He smiles wider at you, like he's found what he was looking for, and stands up, almost bouncing to the window. "No reason. Just wanted you to know." He's launched his grappling hook and is out of sight before you can get another word in.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. Bats.

You're almost expecting it when you find yourself in the presence of the next vigilante. Sitting alone in an unmarked car, the most boring stakeout of your life isn't so boring anymore when Batgirl drops herself onto the hood of your car. You only embarrass yourself a little bit by yelping, spilling what's left of your coffee on the dashboard. She's at the door and tugging the handle by the time you've frantically wiped down the lukewarm liquid off the car. 

You unlock the door. If you didn't know better you would have said the stitches in her mask turned upward. 

She slides into the passenger seat.

It's quiet for a long time. So long you actually start to get comfortable with her being in the car with you. 

"Brother."

Your gaze snaps to her. "What?"

"Tries." 

You blink at her. She's already leaving the car as gracefully as she entered it. Okay. Okay. Definitely nothing to read into there. There's no way she was talking about him. Jason– 'no' you correct yourself– Red Hood is definitely not related to Batgirl and he's definitely not anything else she says he is. 

Work was particularly long today, your shoulders ache, your head is pounding. It's a relief when you finally open the door to your apartment.

"I understand why Todd likes you so much."

"Motherfu–" You half shout, reaching for the baseball bat by the door before you stop short, gaze settling on Robin, who seemed to have made himself comfortable in your home. 

He waves a picture at you, one with you and Jason together, the one you took during a date to Gothams botanical garden. The one you know you had tucked away under your bed. 

You exhale heavily, far too tired to find the energy to scold the kid and lecture him about boundaries. "What are you doing here, Robin?"

"I am here to join the others in their endeavors to reconnect you and Todd."

You tense, jaw dropping a little before you can gather yourself. "No one's doing that."

He places the picture carefully down on the counter. "Of course they are. You're good for Todd. And he asked for you when he was coming out of the fear toxin hallucinations. That shows trust."

"He what?" You ask, voice pitched and startled.

"He asked for you." Robin responds, voice steady and factual. "You didn't know?"

You shake your head, thoughts racing. 

"Oh." He looks unsure, you've never seen any of the Bats look unsure, it snaps you out of your spiraling. "Perhaps, don't mention I told you?"

"Course, Robin. I won't." You answer, and you're relieved when your voice doesn't shake.

He nods, like he expected that answer, but you're not sure if he did. 

"Can I get you anything?" You ask and he actually looks surprised. 

"No. I need to return to patrol. Technically my route doesn't cover this area."

"Oh?" You prompt, unable to keep yourself from prying. "Whose does?"

He scoffs like it's obvious on his way out your window. 

Despite your exhaustion, sleep doesn't come easily that night.

Your final straw is Batman, because of course it is. 

Gordan had handed you a stack of files. "Detective, I need you to take this to the roof, I have the mayor waiting in my office to hear more about the Freeze situation." He rolls his eyes, dark circles and lack of sleep evident on his eyes. "Though he should know by now hounding my officers won't change anything."

"Sir," You start, "can Montoya do it?"

He gives you a pitying look. "Sorry, Detective. Montoya's in archives. You're the only one I can trust with this."

That's how you ended up on the roof of the GCPD precinct. 

"Detective." A low, distinct voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin, even if you knew he was coming. 

You whip around, only relaxing when your gaze settles on Gothams Dark Knight. You silently offer him the files. He takes them, but doesn't look at them, watching you instead. Analyzing you. Studying. It's starting to get nerve wracking being judged by every vigilante Gotham has to offer.

"I know you and Red Hood–"

"Please don't." You cut him off with more bravery than you knew you had.

He doesn't. You look away. But the time you've found the courage to turn back, he's gone. 

You're walking through crime alley, alone, at night, just a few days later. You're not completely sure what your plan is, what you want out of this. But settling whatever is lingering between you and Jason is worth the danger. 

But, danger never finds you. You don't make it two minutes into crime alley before the sound of boots hitting the ground behind you reaches your ears. You know it's him. You know he could have done that soundlessly, but he let you hear him. It steadies some of the unease in your chest.

"What are you doing here?" His voice sounds robotic through the voice modulator, but his shoulders are stiff, body tense, when you turn to face him. You notice his fingers twitch towards you, that soothes another ache in your chest. 

"I wanted to talk to you." You say slowly, carefully. It feels more daunting now that you're here, in his element. 

He looks around. "It's too open."

You follow his gaze, the streets seem empty, but you know Gotham well enough that the shadows have ears. "Then where?"

He considers you for a moment. "The roof. Can I– can I carry you? Just to get us to the roof faster. Or I could drop a fire escape for you?"

"Oh. Um, sure, I don't mind you carrying me. How do you plan on getting us up there, exactly?" You ask, voice pitching slightly at the thought of being close to him again.

He holds up something you recognize as a grappling gun as he steps to your side, hooking an arm around you and firmly tugging you against him. "Hold on."

You wrap your arms around his neck and air is flying past your ears before you've even realized your feet have left the ground. 

He lets go of you slowly once you're both settled on the roof, hand lingering at your waist to make sure you don't fall over. "Good?"

"Good." You echo, and he reluctantly moves to give you space. 

"So, why are you putting yourself in danger just to talk to me? You know these streets aren't safe." He crosses his arms over his chest, it would seem defensive if you didn't recognize the stiffness in his shoulders, like he's bracing for the worst. You wish you could see behind his mask.

"I– could you talk to your family? They keep coming to see me and I think they have the wrong idea." You tell him, voice careful and even.

"Wait, wait. My family?" His arms drop to his side, confusion apparent even through the modulator his helmet.

"Yes? Some of the other vigilantes came to see me a few times–" 

He curses softly, shifting and clenching his fists. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. They shouldn't have done that."

You falter, "I didn't mean it in a bad way."

He sighs heavily, like he's carrying all of life's burdens as he unclenches his fists. "I know. It's not you I'm mad at." He shifts his weight, unsure. "It's just– you should have meant it. I'm not good."

You straighten out, upset he would even consider himself that after how much he's changed, tried to be good, succeeded at being good. You'll never admit it, but you can't help but follow every story about him, every tiny detail about what he does. "That's not true. I'm the one that's not good."

He levels you with look. "Don't act like I don't know you. You are good. You wouldn't have given up running my case if you weren't. You could have run me out of Gotham."

"You know about that?" You ask softly.

"No shit, I know about it. I know you." He says it like it's a fact, a universal truth. 

"But I– I broke up with you. Without really listening. I didn't try to understand." You protest, because with all the bad he's ever done, the good he's done– the fact that he's trying– outweighs it all.

He tilts his helmet towards you. "Because Iied to you. I was using you."

"You said you stopped that."

"I did." He answers, firm and resolute, then sighs out your name. "But I still did that to you, I still hurt you." He pauses, "Look, I'll talk to the others. They won't bother you again, okay? Just– Let me take you home."

"I don't want to go home." You step closer to him. You've decided what you want.

He seems to freeze at the movement. "You don't want to go home?" He repeats slowly, carefully like the words don't make sense to him.

"Red Hood– Jason. I'd like– I miss you, okay? I miss waking up next to you, I miss making dumb jokes with you when we cook, I miss cuddling with you while we make fun of movies together. I want to– I want to try again. If you'd let me."

"If I'd let you?" He echoes your words again. It makes your face fall, how stoic he seems. Then, his mask is clattering against the roof, his gloves tugged off and dropped haphazardly so he can cup your face with his hands. He leans his forehead against yours, and breathes out your name. "I'd let you take anything you wanted from me."

You grab his wrists, intent on keeping him close after so long apart, as your heart races, your breath catches and everything centers on him. Your eyes dart over his face, trying to see the truth in his eyes. 

"I mean it. If all you ever wanted from me was friendship, just someone to keep your bed warm at night, or something more. I'd give that to you." His eyes dart over your face in return, wanting to make sure you understand his words, his feelings for you. 

"I want more. I want you." You say quickly, because he needs to know he's important to you. That he matters to you and what he does as Red Hood didn't and can't change that. 

He lets out a breathless laugh and kisses you. It sets your nerves on end and for the first time since you told him you didn't want to see him, you feel grounded. You kiss him back, hands leaving his wrists to grab the leather of his jacket and draw him closer. 

He only pulls away when you're both gasping for air. "I know I have a lot to make up for–."

"So do I." You cut off.

"Then maybe we're even, yeah? A fresh start." He says softly, tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb.

You smile and tilt your head up to kiss him again, sweet and lazy before leaning back. "I'd like that."

He's smiling when he kisses you again, and neither of you move to untangle yourselves until you hear whooping and cheering coming from the rooftop across the street.

It's been a few weeks since then. And your relationship is good, better than before, if that's even possible. You're picking over snacks in the grocery store with Jason when an elderly, but alert looking man walks up to the two of you. 

"Ah, I see this is your partner you've been trying to hide from us?" 

Jason straightens out, "Alfred? What are you– uh, yes. Yes. This is them." 

You grin, pulling your fingers from Jason's to reach out and shake Alfred's hand, offering him your name as you do. 

Alfred's eyes seem to twinkle and he nods approvingly as he introduces himself. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. You're welcome to dinner any night, I know the others are eager to officially meet you."

Jason groans a little, and he rests his hand against the small of your back. "We'll think about it, Alfred."

Alfred smiles knowingly at you, "Of course. Take your time."

And as you lean into Jason's side, you have a feeling you'll be making it to that dinner sooner rather than later. 

A Side Story

[varpusvaras]

One day, Cody and Obi-Wan need to know something regarding Coruscant, and Obi-Wan suggests that they ask Fox about it.

"I can send him a message", Cody says. "He can answer it when he wakes up."

"Oh, right", Obi-Wan says. "It is night on Coruscant, isn't it?"

"Yes", Cody says. "It's currently 3.27 there, I have the planet's current time on my comlink, so I can say good-night to Fox and make sure he goes to sleep."

Obi-Wan smiles a bit. "That's very sweet", he says.

"I have to do it", Cody says. "Fox is not sleeping enough, it is affecting his health, so I need to remind him to go to sleep-"

Cody's comlink beeps. Fox has sent him a message back with an answer.

Obi-Wan can sense how the room they are in cools.

"I'm sure he just has a lot of work to do today", he says, trying to calm Cody down. "Guarding the Chancellor is a lot of work, you know?"

Cody turns to look out of the ship's window, and he stares very intently to somewhere into space.

"Yes", he mutters. "I know."

---

Fox is very tired and both of his hands are cramping.

He ignores both of those things and continues on, because the Chancellor wants to work done before the morning shift.

His comlink beeps, a message requesting some information. Fox looks up the right files and sends them over, before picking his stylus back up.

He gets through three more forms when his mind catches up with his body. He pauses, and then, slowly, opens his messages.

Oh. It was Cody asking.

Fox looks at the time. 3.36 AM.

He closes the messages, and picks the stylus back up.

Cody is in the Outer Rim right now. Fox can do nothing but wait to meet his fate.

In the meanwhile, he still, unfortunately, has work to do.

---

(Just a few miles from Fox's office, Palpatine wakes up.

There is a distant twist in the Force. Something like a warning.

He regards it for a moment, and then turns on his other side and continues sleeping. Whatever it was, it was so distant that it is not going to do anything tonight, and he has only gotten 6 out of his nine hours of sleep so far.)

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus with a goth and metalhead reader. Reader is female. Fluff.

TFP Optimus x Fem!Goth/Metalhead!Reader

Heyy so this was pretty cute to write. I had come up with a couple different ideas but I went with something simple and took creative liberty. I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: None, Fluff, reader is human.

Word Count: 1,259

'There's no escape from the thoughts inside my head,

Dark days has taken the best of me,

I can't go on like this.'

Sliding the volume bar up, you relax into the stained lounge not currently occupied with kids bickering for player one. They can be pestering at best. However, you love them a lot, especially Miko. That little rockstar has wiggled her way under your skin more than you would've liked. You can't count how often she's come to you with a new metal song she wanted to destroy your eardrums with, in a good way, much to the chagrin of the rest of Team Prime.

So when your fellow metalhead friend goes home with a big smile on her face and the second guitar she's broken this week, you take the opportunity to relax with your own music. With added earbuds, of course.

'Can you turn back time,

To change what you have done?

To shape who you become?'

Shutting your eyes, you let the rolling drums and metallic melodies flood your senses, the lyrics soothing you better than any therapist you could throw money at.

'DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUUUUU-'

Tap tap.

"GAHH!"

After nearly giving the base a new emergency exit via a Y/n-shaped hole through the roof, you rip off your earbuds to glare daggers at exactly who tapped you on the shoulder in your mid-maladaptive daydreaming.

A very concerned, slightly mortified Optimus Prime stares at you right back.

You have now exceeded your yearly quota for embarrassment in the span of five seconds.

"Oh! Optimus, sorry I-" You fumble for your phone that went airborne to the other side of the lounge, quickly pausing your music and clearing your throat, "Sorry, is there something I can... do for you?"

Optimus recovers from your sudden outburst and clears his vocalizer, "Nothing to be concerned about," He pauses, "I think... but I couldn't help but overhear music coming from your small device."

"Oh, these?" You show him your earbuds, heavily used and on its last string of wire, "Yeah, that's what they're used for. Personalised music only you can listen to from, called earphones."

"Ah, a device that recognises its user," Optimus says confidently, "Would it still be functional if another were to use it?"

"Uh, no," You hold back a soft chuckle. Optimus may be an eons-old robot, but it seems he still has much to learn about human culture, "I phrased that wrong. It sends music directly into your ears. Not only does it sound better, but it's more... respectful to the people around you."

Optimus seemed to understand that, nodding and leaning in to get a closer look at the magical, elusive earphones, "Hm, I see. How interesting, I am not sure if Cybertron ever had these."

You're unsure if you should explain the crucial 'ear' part, but then again, you also had some things to learn about Cybertronians.

"Maybe," You say, giving him an unsure smile, "Would you... like to try them out? I'm not sure how they will fit because, y'know, ears."

The mech perks up at your offer, seeming interested in something other than having a candle-lit dinner and wine with his datapad.

"If you allow me," Optimus holds out a servo, "I would be grateful for the opportunity."

God, he's so sweet. It's like you asked him to accompany you to a high school dance, except it's not. He wants to try out earphones.

"I am sure they will be fine. My comlink had previously been modified to accommodate external inputs."

You smile sheepishly. That's a good enough answer and one you were hoping for. You move from the lounge to step onto Optimus' outstretched servo, and now you realise that you've never actually been held by Optimus. You know he's big, but suddenly becoming inches close to his faceplates and getting a feel for the mech's true size has your mind spinning.

And this piece of heavy metal that holds you like a delicate flower is about to experience true heavy metal.

Optimus studies you for a moment longer, and his optics finally get a proper, up-close look at your unique style, "You look quite... different from the others. Before proceeding with this 'personalised' experience, may I ask why?"

That shouldn't have made your face flush, but it did. Questionable choice of wording, but he's right. You do have a different style even compared to Miko. Instead of colourful streaks of pink and the brash early two thousand' get-up, you chose to adorn yourself with all-black clothing and absolutely no bold colours in your hair. Even your make-up, black lipstick, and harsh eyeliner that would make a Christian mother weep. Optimus would undoubtedly question why you chose a different way of representing yourself.

"Well, I'm sure it's strange to you," You begin, trying to ignore how high off the ground you are, "But it's another way for humans to express themselves. It's more of an aesthetic of sorts, but a way of life for others. I guess you could compare it to Cybertronians choosing their alt modes."

Optimus nods, absorbing the new knowledge like a sponge. For some reason, that was easier to explain than the earphones.

"Ah, so it is a distinct way to present yourself to others—an identity of sorts. We Cybertronians are quite limited in our own modifications, partly due to the war." The mech reaches his other servo to your hair, toying with the ends to admire the softness, "I do not find that strange at all that you would choose to modify yourself this way. It's rather endearing and unique; I admire that about your species."

"That's..." Your cheeks flush once again as you watch him play with your hair, "Kind of sweet." You give him a soft smile, touching his servo near your head. He makes eye contact with you, and that's when your breath hitches, and you clear your throat, "But it's not just clothes or... or other mods we can use - we can use music too."

Optimus nods his helm in familiarity, "Yes, I have become aware of that. Miko can be quite the musician." You're unsure if he's saying that to be polite or if he genuinely means it.

"Yeah, I've been trying to teach her, I promise." You chuckle softly, as does he. You continue, unconsciously gripping his servo, "But music is the pathway to the soul, at least for me. It can help me think and even untangle my emotions or just let them be and only soothe. It helps me live in the moment. Like a... a therapist, if that makes sense."

The Prime seems to have connected the dots, "That is why you spend most of your time resting on the couch listening to your music?" Optimus realises his impudence towards you earlier when he startled you, "I see. I apologise for interrupting your therapy earlier; that was rather brash of me."

God, no, he is exceeding unprecedented levels of sweetness now. His optics' soft, apologetic look nearly obliterates you, thinking he had legitimately interrupted a therapy session.

"No, no, Optimus," You suppress a laugh, "It's okay, really. It's a figure of speech. It feels like therapy. Sometimes it's better."

Optimus exhales a gentle sigh, "Apologies. You humans have such expressive figures of speech I have yet to catch onto."   

"It's alright. Now, speaking of therapy." You try to hide your ever-growing affection for him and retract your hand, holding up one end of the small earbud, "How about that personalised experience?"

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Verse with tele-empath powers is getting a reboot to explore said powers? Hello, yes.

Re-verse, engage!

Covered in blood and filth, whimpering in the bottom of a cage, was a small, broken child. So small, huddled and androgynous- Dick couldn't tell if it was a male or female child. He only knew it was a child.

And that the feeling of fear and desperation- helpless, hopelss sadness, is coming from them. "Batman," he murmured into his comlink, "I think you need to see this."

"What is it?" Bruce demanded, silently ordering Tim out of the room full of bodies. Scientists that had taken their own lives.

"A kid," he answered, kneeling next to the bars. "It's gonna be okay," he said to you. "We're gonna get you out of here okay?"

Slowly an arm moves away from a face and reveals a gaunt face and hollow cheeks. Hair that had been shaved so close they've nicked your scalp... It made his heart twist. "You shouldn't let me out," you tell him.

"Why's that," he asked, keeping his tone light. Were you a Meta? An Alien? He'd seen other empty cages. Dead guards. And he felt... Well. He wasn't sure what he felt but. God it was so heavy. He wrapped his hand around the bars to keep his balance and settled in. You just looked so small.

"Monsters belong in Cages," you murmur, laying your head back down. Like holding it up was too much. Like the weight of the world was pressing down on you. "I killed them. All of them."

________________

"How is our patient?" Dick asked slipping into the medical bay of the watch Tower.

"Troubled," J'onn J'onzz answered, "but, I believe I would be too if I had had her story."

Dick nodded but, didn't ask further questions. He, Clark, Tim, and Bruce had been putting the pieces together while you healed. And what they found... well. They didn't say that you were a monster. They said that you were a little girl put in a monstrous situation.

"Thank you for sitting with her," he said, proffering a pack of oreos. "I just didn't want her to wake up totally alone when she opened her eyes." His preference would have been for Diana- but. She was who knows where. And at least J'onn could anticipate what she was thinking. And he could be patient.

"Of course. Poor creature. She yearns."

And before Dick could ask what for he was gone. And Dick pulled himself up a chair, and helped himself to a magazine, helping himself to a cosmo with a snort. "Let's see what my ideal date with Bruce Wayne is, huh? Bet he hate's all this shit. They always get it wrong."

[techs-goggles9902]

Soft!Crosshair and fem!reader please

Maybe with something about his hand tremors?

Why did you wait for me? - Soft!Cross x fem!reader

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. READ TERMS BEFORE REQUESTING ON MY MASTERLIST

Word count: 767

Warnings: none? Lmk if I missed something

A/N: Hey, I really wanna know who these anons are or if they’re the same person so I can thank you for these requests!!!! Sorry if this feels rushed or anything. I will happily rewrite it next week if requested. I’ve been sick since Sunday and I feel like trash :P

Ever since he came back, he’s been… off. His calloused fingers, his eyes, his voice, all once so familiar, now somewhat foreign.

But he’s your Crosshair, he always comes around. You’re his girl. This is no different. Right? And, he always comes back. It’s only been a few hours since the Marauder landed on Padu’s upper level, your home, at the crack of dawn. You were roused by that familiar chime on your comlink.

What the hell, Hunter, you thought when you woke. Couldn’t he wait a few more hours until your alarm went off?

He couldn’t, which you now know.

You met the batch while they were on leave a few years back, fell in love with that tall, lanky sniper of theirs. Once Order 66 happened, Hunter advised you to come with them since Crosshair wasn’t the man you met anymore.

You found Pabu, where you settled down while the boys didn’t. Could you blame them, though?

“Stop staring at me like that, Cross,” you say as you cook him breakfast in your warm kitchen, feeling his gaze dig holes in the back of your head as he sits at the island.

“I’m sorry… I just can’t…” he pauses, swallowing. “I can’t believe you actually waited for me.”

“How could I not? You’re you. No matter what Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” You turn, about to scrape the eggs onto his plate when you see his watery eyes. Those dark irises that usually pierce into people’s souls now desperately gaze into your own.

“I… I did a lot of bad things. Why do you still love me?” He whispers as you slowly put down the pan of eggs. You step around the island to embrace the sniper, his face buried into your sternum.

“Shhh… You didn’t have a choice, back at Tantiss.” His shaky hands lock around the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t make any sound, just lets the tears stream down his narrow face, catching on his stubble.

“That doesn’t answer my question, love.”

You sigh, cupping his tear stained face in your soft palms. “I loved you during the war, loved you when you left on missions, I loved you when you joined the Empire. This is no different. You’re mine, I’m yours.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly as he gazes up at you, for once.

“How ‘bout we get some food, real food, in you and then we’ll talk?” You softly ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He nods and you let him go to slide the eggs onto his plate. Watching him eat, you see the muscles working in his jaw as he chews, his temporalis bulging with each bite.

You haven’t seen him since… Kamino. You begged, pleaded for him to join the batch. You remember how he declined and begged for you to join the Empire, they’ll understand, he said.

He finishes eating and you scoop up his plate, turning away to put it in the sink. When you turn around, he’s gone off to your bedroom. You follow, thinking, I bet he hasn’t slept in a while. I mean, really slept.

He stops in the doorway of your room, turning back to you. He quietly asks, “Can I…”

“You don’t need to ask me for anything. What’s mine is yours.”

You sit against your headboard, his head in your lap. Before, you used to card your hands through his silver curls. Now… You make due with caressing his growing follicles, careful of his lumpy, dented scar.

His hands tremble as they lie against your knee. You tap his fingertip.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“What? No, why?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh… It just came one day.”

“Tell me… What happened?” You tenderly take his shaking hand in your own and you run your fingers over his too-short nails. Hemlock must’ve had them cut so he wouldn’t claw someone’s eyes out.

Poor Cross… Hemlock’s dying for this.

“You remember the shadows?”

“Mmhmm. The clone assassins.”

“He… Hemlock tried to recondition me into one… I was tested…” He doesn’t have to finish his explanation.

You’re quiet for a beat before you say, “I’m sorry, Cross…”

“Don’t be. You couldn’t do anything.”

“You know, a friend of mine has tremors, too. We can try exercises to��� help cope, if you’d like,” you say, pressing your thumb pad down onto his knuckles for a gentle massage.

“I’ll give it a shot, love,” Crosshair says, rolling onto his back to look up at you.

“I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you too, riduur. You’re my girl.”

Riduur = spouse in Mando’a

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @skellymom @hellhound5925 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR TAKEN OFF TAGLIST

Dividers by @ saradika

[dracowars]

Could I please request an Anakin X reader where reader gets overwhelmed in a mission and Anakin gets her out?

overwhelmed | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin x jedi!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where y/n gets overwhelmed on a mission

a/n: i missed writing so much, especially for anakin so i really hope that you enjoy it <3 feedback and reblogging is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of blood

universe: star wars

"What's happening down there?!", Anakin screams at the hologram map in front of him, demanding to know what is going on on the planet beneath the Resolute. His eyes frantically roam over the map, trying to find the source that caused the small transporter and the protective shields around it to be blown to bits. "General Y/L/N, do you copy?"

It was supposed to be an easy mission with no complications. The plan was simple: deliver the required weapons and care packages to the surface of Ryloth to support the troops and then leave again without a trace, not alarming the Separatists while giving your men an advantage. But instead of doing that, you walked right into a trap.

Pressing your body, which is still shaking from the bomb's hard impact, against a shattered part of the transporter, you try to control your breath, squinting your eyes to see through the dust. Inhaling it, you cough several times, waving your hand in front of your face to make the smoke slowly disappear. You hardly see anything around you, at most silhouettes of soldiers lying on the ground, injured or worse. And very close by, you hear the loud mechnical noise of spider droids coming your way.

Ignoring the panic rising within your veins, you close your eyes and try to think about your next move, trying to find a way out of this. Only then do you notice your com and the voice coming from it, instantly grounding you.

"I copy. We ran into an ambush, I don't know how many of my men survived", you answer into the comlink, forcing your voice to sound as steady as possible. But Anakin notices. He always does.

"You need to get out of there. Right now!", Anakin says with pressure, not paying attention to the fact that he has never felt so relieved to hear you voice, that, as far as he can tell, you are safe and sound. And he does not care what his men around him think, why he is so keen on getting you out of there in one piece.

When the explosions happened, Anakin felt his heart stop, his world stopped spinning. But hearing your voice right now makes it a lot more bearable because you are still there, you are still with him. He should have been down there with you and he is beating himself up for not insisting on coming with you.

"Sir, I don't think that is possible", another voice clarifies through the comlink as Bly, your commander, approaches your side, kneeling in front of you as he speaks to Anakin. His armor is covered in dust and mud, but he appears to have survived the attack without any major damages.

"Why not?", both Anakin and you ask at the same time.

"General, you are injured", Bly points out, motioning to your lower body, which is, indeed, covered in blood. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, your eyes widen and you press your hand on the bleeding wound where a piece of metal must have hit you. Only then do you notice the excruciating pain running through your body, previously hidden by the adrenaline that was still rushing through your veins mere seconds ago.

"How bad is it?", Anakin wants to know immediately, his knuckles turning white from grabbing the table with the hologram map forcefully as it is making fun of him for not being down there with you, only showing him what happened without him being able to intervene.

"I don't think any important organs are damaged, but I can't be sure, Sir. And the Separatists are approaching our current location quickly", Bly explains, offering you an encouraging smile, but all you can feel is bile rising up your throat and panic lacing your laboured breathing. "They knew we would come."

"And they were only waiting to strike", Anakin concludes, lowering his head while searching for answers. But with his heart painfully beating against his chest and your ragged breathing over the com, he can't concentrate. He needs to get you out of there.

"Prepare a shuttle", he orders one of the clones around him, his voice harsh and demanding while you are down there, possibly fighting for your life right now.

"Sir, we are not equipped for such a rescue", you hear from afar, the unbearable pain blocking everything out.

"I can do it, Anakin. It's f-fine", you try to convince him, your hands trembling and your voice only a whisper. Every breath hurts, it gets worse every second and you know that you reached your limit.

You know you won't make it. Even with Bly by your side, the chances of leaving this planet alive are falling close to zero. This realization hits you hard and a single tear slips down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your dirty face.

"A-Anakin?", you call out to him in pain, the beeping in your ears getting louder and louder. But he does not answer.

Looking up at the sky, in the direction where your transporter came from, where Anakin is located right now, you force a smile on your lips. Black stars cloud your vision as you desperately reach for the Force, calling him.

"General, what are you-", is the last static sound you hear before your body slips into complete darkness.

════════════

Anakin is not the type to stand there doing nothing when the love of his life is on the verge of leaving this galaxy, no matter the cost. And he certainly does not care about being equipped for the rescue. Because if someone is going to get you out of there safely, then it is Anakin Skywalker.

And that is exactly what he is planning on doing the moment he leaves the bridge, when he jumps into the Twilight and lands on the rough surface of Ryloth. When he takes down every single droid with his own hands, leaving behind a trail of destruction. When he finally reaches you, unconscious frame held up by your loyal commander.

Immediately, he takes you onto his arms, carrying you to his ship with the remaining soldiers following and flanking you. The determination in Anakin's eyes is eerie, he speaks no word, only making sure to get you off this planet in no time.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he reaches out to you with the Force, just like you did before leaving into unconsciousness, telling him to leave you behind and complete the mission. The moment he does, he feels your warmth, your joy emanating through his body and your eyes flutter. Softly, your hand touches his, your lips parting ever so slightly as you croak: "I knew you would come."

"I always will", Anakin answers, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, squeezing your hand in his gently. "I will always come for you, my angel."

[nimue44]

something something loose lips sink ships

Whether it was a prod from the Force or simply the comlink’s incessant beeping, Obi-Wan was roused to half consciousness in the darkness of his quarters. While he would have preferred to remain asleep, snugly pinned in place by the arm his commander had wrapped around him, calls in the middle of the sleep cycle during a galactic war were unlikely to be ones he could willfully ignore. 

To preserve the only benefit of his newfound wakefulness — being able to indulge in the steady breathing and radiating warmth at his back — Obi-Wan pulled the comlink to him so as not to disturb what were sure to be the last few moments of Cody’s sleep. 

“This is Kenobi,” he said quietly.

(431 more words below the cut)

There was a longer pause than Obi-Wan would have expected given the urgency of a middle of the night call. 

“Of course, sir,” Crys replied through the comm. “Only, I was trying to reach Commander Cody.”

Oh. Kriff. Surely he could come up with some explanation for answering the wrong comlink. But then Cody stirred behind him, sliding his hand farther down Obi-Wan’s torso and tucking his head into Obi-Wan’s nape. Momentarily overwhelmed by sensation, all he could muster was, “I see, very odd.” 

“My apologies, sir, I must have entered the wrong code.” 

Obi-Wan silently cursed himself for making Crys feel he was in the wrong when it had been Obi-Wan’s mistake to pick up the wrong comlink. “It’s not a problem—” 

“What’s the message, Crys?” Cody grumbled, cutting off his apology and assuredly necessitating an even more elaborate explanation on Obi-Wan’s part. 

“Uh,” Crys said, hopefully not too distracted by trying to piece together what was happening on their end. “That special ops unit is on approach from Kashyyyk with, um, they said a pet? But it really sounds more like a large bug, sir.”   

Immediately, Obi-Wan’s interest outweighed any desire for decorum. “Like an insect?” he asked, perking up.

Not nearly as amused, Cody sighed, the warm burst of air tickling Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’ll meet them in the hangar bay. Send a couple nightwatch teams, too. And Crys?” 

“Yessir?” 

“Good soldiers keep their mouths shut.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

With the comm delivered, duty called. Like most mornings, Obi-Wan maneuvered in practiced coordination with Cody as they extracted themselves from the small bed. 

“Firm but fair,” Obi-Wan observed. Certainly a swifter approach to handling his misstep than whatever Obi-Wan was working towards have come up with. 

“I’m glad you approve of my leadership methods,” Cody wryly replied, pulling on his blacks. 

Obi-Wan snorted and, while picking up his own tunic, retrieved a hand guard that had ended up across the room. “Always, my dear,” he said, taking Cody’s palm in his and pressing the armor over the back of his gloved hand. 

Cody’s free hand rose to softly cup Obi-Wan’s cheek, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention. In one of their moments of shared understanding and purpose, both were drawn together for a soft press of lips and a kiss of foreheads before parting. 

“Now, would you like to go see this bug in our hangar?” Cody asked, flipping his helmet onto his head with a flourish.

“How do you always know exactly what to say to woo me, Cody?” Obi-Wan said, falling into step at Cody’s side as they began another day. 

[thirdsght]

his impassive visage hides the disappointment brewing deep inside. he doesn't blame @sinibell. it's beyond the limits of her resources. he knew the answer to the question before posed it. uncharacteristically, the quiet knight had hoped he was wrong. for so long he had wondered if the home he grew up in was still standing and his parents were still alive. the secrecy of the chiss was too much for the most detailed database in the known regions. the miniscule information collected about the community was what was fed to the known galaxy by the ascendancy. civilian logs were off limits.

chloe admits: “i have no answer to this.”

❝ worry not. you have done well. information about my people is secured by our military. little is known by anyone in this part of the galaxy. ❞ he shrugs his shoulders. an effort to appear casual. he's been told by too many that his glowing red eyes and blank expression are intimidating. it gave an advantage on the battlefield. not so much in a casual conversation. ❝ thank you. ❞ he inclines his head to her briefly. ❝ for trying. ❞

⋙ ACCEPTING

[saphronethaleph]

Negotiate Early, Negotiate Often

The unknown Sith lit his lightsaber, one end, then both, revealing it to be a saberstaff.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan activated their own lightsabers, then Obi-Wan frowned slightly.

“Just curious,” he said. “But what’s your name? I just realized I’m only thinking of you as ‘the Sith’.”

“My name is Maul,” the Zabrak replied. “Darth Maul. I am your end, Jedi.”

“Hmm, debatable,” Obi-Wan replied. “We don’t actually know yet and that’s the point of this lightsaber battle. As soon as we get around to starting it, anyway.”

He shrugged, twirling his blue saber blade around his hand. “But I’m curious, that’s all. Why now? After hiding for a thousand years, Maul… why now?”

“Now is the time to reveal ourselves to the Jedi,” Maul declared. “To take our revenge.”

“Right, there’s two Sith at any one time,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“...Padawan?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I’m negotiating,” Obi-Wan replied. “It’s sort of experimental. I’ll see how it works.”

He returned his attention to Maul. “But – well. There’s two Sith at any one time. There’s currently… what, ten thousand Jedi Knights, and about the same number of trainees and padawans? It’s a lot, is what I’m saying. And now we know you exist.”

Maul’s mouth had fallen open slightly, and he shut it with a scowl.

“You’re lying,” he said, shaking his head. “There can’t be ten thousand of you.”

“There very much can,” Obi-Wan answered. “Though I’m not a knight. I’m a Padawan. Qui-Gon is a Master, but he is also a knight.”

He reached into a pocket. “I’ve not got the names of all ten thousand, but my comlink has a few hundred comcodes programmed into it-”

Maul snarled, reaching out with his hand, and threw a piece of detritus at Obi-Wan with the Force. Obi-Wan immediately put his comlink back in his pocket, spun his saber, and sliced the object in half.

That seemed to get the battle going more generally.

“Is this how weak the Jedi are?” Maul asked, grinning, as they locked blades in front of one of the power cores.

“I’ll be honest,” Obi-Wan replied. “I’m not sure you thought through that whole bit about how we haven’t known you existed for a thousand years.”

Qui-Gon advanced, and Maul twisted to block both attacks at once. That turned into a slash aimed at removing Qui-Gon’s head, and Obi-Wan deflected the slash away with a swipe of his own blade.

“You see,” Obi-Wan went on, as the battle ebbed and flowed. “We haven’t had much in the way of enemies with lightsabers for a thousand years. Most of our work has been dealing with enemies who, at the most, have blasters – and generally speaking we aim to disable, not kill, unless killing is the only remaining option.”

“A sign of the weakness of the Jedi!” Maul laughed.

Obi-Wan blocked all three of Maul’s next attacks, flowing through the forms of Soresu with an easy grace. “Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps it’s a sign of strength. To kill someone when there’s an alternative is to take the easy way out – finding a solution that doesn’t require killing everyone who disagrees with you is harder, but more rewarding.”

Qui-Gon just sort of stood back, watching his Padawan and trying to look for an opening where he could help without promptly getting decapitated.

“Are you the Master or the Apprentice?” Obi-Wan asked. “Because if you’re the Master, then – I’ll be quite honest, I do question why you didn’t reveal yourself years ago, and why you’re acting largely as hired muscle.”

He shrugged, working it into his bladework as he deflected one attack after another. “And if you’re the Apprentice, then… again, why do you reveal yourself now? If you didn’t know there were that many Jedi, what’s your Master’s motive?”

“Stop! Using! Soresu!” Maul snarled, trying to force an attack through Obi-Wan’s defences.

“I’d rather not,” Obi-Wan told him. “We’re talking, aren’t we? I’d rather have the time for a discussion. But please, do think through what I’m saying. Why Naboo?”

“My Master handles politics,” Maul said, then scowled.

“Ah, so you’re the Apprentice,” Obi-Wan declared. “In that case, allow me to compliment you on your excellent skill with Juyo. If I weren’t using a purely defensive Soresu style I’d probably have been filleted by this point-”

Maul punched him in the face with the hilt of his saberstaff, and Qui-Gon stepped in with his green blade flashing to save Obi-Wan from a fatal blow.

“If you could stop annoying the Sith, Padawan?” he suggested.

“Negotiations are often fraught, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, picking himself up again and working in tandem with his Master. “You need to know about the other person before you can reach an acceptable compromise.”

“So, your Master handles politics?” Obi-Wan asked, through the glowing energy doors. “And he sent you here.”

“I don’t want to talk to you any more,” Maul said. “I’m going to kill you both.”

“And then what?” Obi-Wan replied. “Your Master tells you well done, and you go back into hiding, while the next time you face the Jedi Order we’ll have been preparing for it? What about this is worth it?”

“Revenge!” Maul snarled. “At last, we will get revenge on the Jedi!”

“Revenge for something a thousand years ago?” Obi-Wan asked. “...even Master Yoda isn’t that old.”

He shrugged. “What I’m trying to say is that – are you really getting what you want? Or are you following the orders of your Master?”

“I am trying to meditate, here,” Qui-Gon said, kneeling between two of the force fields.

“It’s still a legitimate question,” Obi-Wan replied. “If at least one of us three does have to die, then don’t we at least all want to know why? Maul’s Master sent him here for something, but we don’t know what. Does Maul know? Or is he just going where he’s sent, into deadly peril, where his Master hasn’t even told him how many Jedi there are?”

He lifted his gaze, to catch Maul’s eye. “Has he been told as little as possible, to make him a weapon instead of a person?”

Maul snarled, then the energy gates began to deactivate.

Maul and Qui-Gon immediately engaged in a duel, and as soon as the gates in front of Obi-Wan deactivated he sprinted forwards.

The last one activated just before he reached it, and he stabbed his lightsaber into the projection systems. The whole laser gate shorted out, and Obi-Wan followed through to join his Master in an attack on Maul – then reached out his hand, suddenly yanking on Maul’s saberstaff with the Force.

That threw the Sith off, and Obi-Wan destroyed the staff in a single blow.

“Sorry,” he said. “That was very Niman of me.”

Maul stared at the two glowing lightsabers pointed at him.

“...Jedi don’t kill prisoners, right?” he asked.

“If you’ve committed any crimes, then that might eventually happen,” Obi-Wan said. “But that would be up to a trial. I don’t actually think you’ve done any crimes except trying to run over Anakin with a swoop bike and one count of assault… so that probably wouldn’t happen, no.”

He glanced at Qui-Gon. “Does that sound right?”

“I’m not even going to interfere here, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. “You’re clearly better at defensive negotiations than me.”

“Defensive negotiations?” Maul asked.

“Negotiations involving Soresu,” Qui-Gon explained.

“In that case…” Maul said, then paused. “I have a new person I want to get revenge on. He’s called Darth Sidious, and he did want a benefit from attacking this wretched place.”

He grinned. “He wanted to be elected Chancellor, using the sympathy for his own planet.”

Obi-Wan made an interested noise.

“Well,” he said. “That’s a very impressive revenge, achieved quickly. My compliments!”

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.8 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 7. Chapter 9.

Drosaria

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, canon typical violence, clone death, underground caves, non-canon planet and species, talk of unfair treatment of clones, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (Thank you!): @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69 @ghostlyembassy @notgonnaedit

The planet of Drosaria used to be a beautiful planet teeming with life. However, hundreds of years of war, bombs and death had caused the once gorgeous planet to ice over. The population, Pantoran colonizers, fled to the underground to escape the cold. Over the years, the survivors formed their own culture, identity and adaptations.

These former Pantorans are called the Drosari. 

The entirety of Drosari civilization is underground. Cities are connected by miles of caves, caverns and underground pathways. 

Your eyes roamed over the article you found. The 501st, along with the 212th and 41st elite Corps had been dispatched to the outer rim planet. While the Resolute was in hyperspace, you did some reading on your destination.

You’ve learned from Rex that several Drosari cities had been destroyed by separatists, and mining had begun to take root, causing cave-ins. 

One wrong rock broken by mining equipment could send an entire cavern down. Only the Drosari could break the stone walls without causing devastation, due to their skills and understanding of their own home.

The Drosari matriarch had pleaded with the Council for aid, giving up the planet's neutral status in order to receive help.

So the Jedi sent Generals Skywalker, who would take the ground, and Kenobi, who would take the surrounding space.

Go in, destroy the droids, arrest whoever is in charge of the mining operation, stop the separatists, and fly off to the next planet. 

Easy enough. 

Judging by the time, you and Kix needed to get to the hangar. Stretching your arms above your head, you prepared your packs with medical supplies. 

Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits…

You weren't expecting a bloodbath. The only active threat was going to be the droids. Though, cave-ins were something to consider. 

“Ready, Doctor?” Kix asked, waiting by the door for you. 

You nodded, adjusting your gauntlet. You hoped the comlink would work underground, communication would be difficult otherwise. “I’m good, let's go.” Your words were determined and resolute, walking out of the med bay.

The two of you made it to the hangar, already soldiers were preparing to get to the ground. You’ve gotten used to the chaos that occurs before each mission. Troopers rushed around, finding their places before going planet-side.

You and Kix split up, each going to your own designated LAAT’s. Commander Ahsoka stepped up next to you, followed by Fives and Jesse. 

The Commander didn’t entirely look excited.

“You alright, Commander?” You raised a brow, looking down at her in slight worry. 

“She lost 3 games of Sabacc, to Jesse.” Fives answered for her, “in a row.”

The mentioned clone had a smirk on his face as he got his helmet on, however, he remained silent. 

Ahsoka grumbled, “He cheated. I don’t know how, but he cheated.”

You laughed softly as the gunship carrying everyone lifted. The ride would be bumpy, as flying through a blizzard wasn’t the easiest thing. Luckily, the Drosari actually had several protected openings into the caves that were large enough for some ships to land in.

Didn’t make the flying much smoother though. The LAAT damn near tipped on its side the moment it hit atmosphere. After the gunship corrected, Oddball came in through Ahsoka’s com. 

“Sorry, windshear.” was all he said before cutting off. 

Lovely. You shared a look with Fives. Despite wearing his helmet, you could tell he was tense and slightly panicked. You pat his arm in comfort before grabbing the handle above you when the ship lurched again. 

The entire ride was unsteady, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as soon as you landed and stepped off. 

Solid ground. Thank all the gods in the galaxy. 

Ahsoka joined Anakin and Rex, who were already speaking to an ornately dressed Drosari. She had light blue skin marked with tattoos and jewels, mint colored hair woven with crystals and even from a distance she had an air of regality. 

All around you were high multicolored stone and marble walls dotted by crystals and coral-like rock. Above your heads was a large opening that led to the snowy tundra outside. Icicles reached down from the high ceiling, looking both beautiful and deadly.

You met up with Kix again and waited as the Jedi, Captain and Matriarch strategized. They were looking over a holomap, eyes roaming the winding paths and cave systems that connected the Drosari cities. 

Rex, Ahsoka and Anakin were probably thinking of some insane plan that would overwhelm the separatists and bring victory. 

Hopefully.

Not a minute later, orders were given.

The entire Legion would be split up into smaller squads to navigate the caves and caverns. Everyone would take a different path before all converging onto the remains of the closest Drosari city that had been taken over.

It would be impossible for you and Kix to help every single squad, so the two of you weaved between them as they formed and gave some first-aid supplies. Mostly bandages, tourniquets and some bacta, but it was better than nothing.

You would be with Rex’s squad. Kix with Ahsoka’s. Fives went with Anakin. Jesse had his own squad. Echo and Hardcase as well.

After some preparations, everyone moved out.

The 501st captain took the front, while you remained behind the troopers. Despite being underground, the caves were alight with glowing crystals and coral-like rocks embedded in the stone walls. It was a rather pretty sight. 

Despite how lovely your surroundings were, you kept a hand hovered over your pistol as you walked. 

Nere slowed down to walk beside you, “cuyir gar jate?”

You gave him a small smile. Ever since you spoke Mando’a in front of him, he randomly quizzes you, “Ni cuy' jate, Nere.”

He gave you an approving nod, as if you passed some type of test. The trooper had informed you a while ago that speaking in Mando’a had done wonders to help calm the nerves of some of the injured troopers. 

According to him, on Kamino, they were often poked, prodded and tested with no care for their feelings or comfort. You understood how that could be overwhelming for anyone, especially rapidly growing cadets.

Apparently, when you spoke the language while treating them, it took them away from Kamino. Helped them relax. 

Good. Your patient's comfort was your priority.

Rex stopped at a point where the cave opened into a massive cavern. He pulled one of his pistols and looked back at the men, “Prime place for an ambush. Be on guard.” He warned. 

The troopers readied their weapons. Blasters out, and aimed as the squad made its way forward. Each step had to be slow and careful, as the cave path had opened onto an underground cliffside.

The chamber was massive, allowing the men to spread out. Above your heads, the high ceiling was nothing but pointed stalagmites and shards of glowing stone. All around you were natural pillars of rock, crystal and coral. To the far left was a waterfall, and many meters below the outcropping where you stepped out, was rapidly running water. Growing all around you were bursts of glowing lichen and moss, helping light up the area. 

Luckily, the cavern had natural bridges that allowed you and troopers to cross the large gap. But before you could make any more moves forward, a blaster shot narrowly missed Rex’s head. 

Behind pillars, clusters of coral and boulders, droids stepped out, revealing themselves. Immediately they rained blaster bolts down. 

You dove behind the nearest pillar, pistol drawn and firing back. Nere got beside you, rifle out and aimed at the enemy. Rex was ahead, kneeling behind a thick cluster of pink, branching coral.

Nere peaked up, hoping to aim. However, in the blink of an eye, a blaster bolt pierced his forehead. His head jerked back and he crumbled, without making a sound. 

“Nere!” Your heart lurched and you knelt, feeling for a pulse. 

Nothing. 

You looked up, watching another trooper fall back, gripping his smoldering shoulder a few meters away. He looked up at you, “I’m good!” He called. 

“That's for me to judge!” you responded, leaning out slightly looking for an opening.

While the droids had numbers, the clones had skills. There were multiple broken and destroyed metal bodies across the way. More and more of the droids fell to perfectly aimed blaster shots from your side. 

After a second, you made your dash, getting to the soldier. A blaster shot narrowly missed your face, but you kept going. 

“Ni ganar gar,” You spoke, immediately assessing his wounded shoulder. The enemy blaster shots slowed down, but you still kept your head down as you worked. At least until all the droids were gone.

Not too bad. Shot didn’t go completely through. Bacta patches, mostly. 

Your hands worked fast. Within a minute you had the clone patched up and ready to keep going. 

He gave an experiment roll of his shoulder before giving you a thumbs up, “Thanks doc!”

You nodded before standing. Your eyes roamed over the other men, looking for any possible injuries. Satisfied that you didn’t see any, you looked to the Captain. 

Rex stepped over to one of the stone bridges, motioning for the squad to continue. He waited, wanting them to go first so he could watch the rear.

You looked back at Nere, sighing softly before following the others. What you, nor anyone else had seen was one more droid remained, half destroyed and barely functioning. You were focused on watching the men walk, making sure none of them were hiding injuries from you. 

They were halfway across when Rex nodded to you, and the both of you crossed the natural bridge. The other troopers made it across, double checking for any droids that were hiding or lying in wait.

You were halfway across when a blaster shot broke the silence. A half broken droid tried to aim at the Captain, but broke down completely. Instead, its shot went upward, breaking a massive stalagmite above you. 

The pointed stone slammed down in front of you, Shattering the natural bridge the both of you stood on. The ground beneath your feet broke and collapsed.

Rex managed to grab you, before you both plummeted into the dark waters below.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ezra just can't figure out why you hate him so much.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ghost crew x f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: requested, mentioned enslavement, reader is kinda mean, no use of Y/N

Now, Ezra wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but what other conclusion was there? 

You had to hate his guts. You refused to look at him and you wouldn’t talk to him, not to mention the glare you weren’t at all trying to hide. Sabine told him to not worry about it, that you would open up on your own time. Somehow, Ezra doubted that.

Hera told him something similar about giving you time, and he understood why; it’d only been a week since your grand and harrowing rescue from the clutches of the Hutts (the crew had yet to tell him why you needed rescuing in the first place).

A few months into joining the crew, it became clear that someone was missing. Sabine’s room held the belongings of another, another person’s blanket and pillow situated on the bottom bunk. An utterance of a stranger’s name was sometimes whispered, accompanied by shadowed looks and a tense silence.

When he got up the nerve to ask, Hera had pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “There’s a reason you’re Spectre 7, not 6. Six is… somewhere.”

“How do we find them?”

Hera hadn’t given an answer, simply letting out a sigh and turning to go back to her tasks.

So the mystery of Spectre 6 lived on, remnants of this girl coming to him in pieces. Little jokes here and there about how Six would yell about this or how she would laugh at that. Ezra started to piece together an image of this girl in his head, imagining a smiling figure with fuzzy features, doing flips and handstands across his mind.

“If only Six was here,” Zeb commented into his comlink as he and Ezra balanced across a skinny support beam. “Little acrobat would come in handy.”

Kanan and Sabine stayed up at odd hours of the night when they weren’t aware Ezra was watching from around the corner, mumbling to themselves as they scoured databases for clues as to where the lost Spectre had gone.

“Bingo,” Sabine grinned, frantically tapping Kanan’s arm. “The mercenaries that took her are from Corellia.”

Kanan set a hand on her shoulder. Hope flashed in his eyes. “Good work. We’ll get her back soon.”

Whoever she was, she sure meant a lot to the crew. So much so that he started to grow bitter at whatever had taken her away—Ezra started to want her back just as much as the rest of them.

And so naturally, when Vizago crawled out whatever hole he dwelled in to drop off a message from the Hutts, Ezra was a rapt listener—it went something along the lines of, “Take back your sewer rat… for five thousand Imperial credits.”

“We don’t have that money,” said Sabine, her voice a new dangerous low. Her eyes lasered in on the table before her as a sense of fury rose within the common.

Zeb scoffed, his fists curling. “Why weren’t the Hutts out first guess? Of course they wanted her back.”

“Why?” Ezra asked without thinking. 

While Zeb’s eyes flashed darkly, Kana answered offhandedly, “Back before we found her, she worked for them—the Hutts—she was their prize weapon.”

“We got her out,” Hera said softly. “But a few weeks before you got here… she went out on a solo mission.” She hugged herself. “I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“She would’ve gone whether you let her or not,” Sabine quipped. “That’s how she is.”

Ezra stepped forward and set his hands on the table everyone gathered around, his eyes raising to assess his friends. “Let’s stop talking about it and make a plan. She can’t be safe there.”

The rescue mission itself was near flawless; Kanan and Hera went forward with a crate “full of credits.” Plot twist: there were no credits. Coming in behind them, Sabine and Chopper infiltrated the lower kitchens of the Hutts’ headquarters, taking out a few droids and taking one prisoner. With a few gentle threats, Sabine sent word to Zeb and Ezra exactly where Spectre 6 was being held. 

That was where the plan went awry; while Zeb was held back by a wary yet naive droid, Ezra slipped past unnoticed, casting Zeb a wave as he dove around a corner and headed deeper into the fortress. 

Finding the cell wasn’t much of a problem, nor was getting the door open—the problem at hand was getting you out of the cell.

You were curled into a shadowed corner like some kind of alley cat, eyes lifting to gaze upon him with nothing but contempt. From the moment he saw you, he had the sense you disliked his very being.

Somehow—he still wonders how—he managed to convince you he was with the Ghost crew, luring you out of the cell and leading you to where the others had started up a racket after getting caught with no payment. The final escape was slim, and your hair was singed from a too-close blaster fire.

Ezra noticed, eyes wide as he moved to swat at the slowly rising smoke. “Are you okay?”

You swatted him away, glare ready and waiting. “Fine.” And you disappeared, rushing deep into the ship with a frazzled Hera on your tail.

His every attempt at communication after was met with backlash. You really did seem like a cat in his mind, all hissy and skittish. 

“Be patient,” is what everyone told him, but really, it was getting out of hand. After three months of your return, you had yet to drop your hatred, and it was starting to interfere in missions. 

Just last week he’d been about to make a shot that would have saved time concerning a quick escape when you completely ignored his presence and tripped him. 

“Sorry,” you’d said, not sounding very sorry at all.

That wasn’t the end of it either.

“Do you need something?”

“Go be useful, if you can.”

“Could you be more amazingly purposeless here?”

Ezra had to give it to you, you certainly had a knack for tearing down a guy’s self-esteem. Each insult seemed to roll off your tongue so easily that Ezra came to correlate your voice with a bad day.

You could not possibly have made Ezra feel more unwelcome, despite everyone’s assurances that you’d warm up eventually. Ezra started to question the crew’s definition of eventually. He really hoped you would start to like him soon, because you were quite possibly one fo the coolest people he’d ever seen.

When you weren’t actively making his life difficult, you were training day in and day out, practicing acrobatics atop the Ghost. Not to mention, if he and Kanan didn’t have some sixth sense thanks to the Force, your movements would be deadly silent. You moved like a specter, like your feet never even touched the ground. 

Today was like most days in accordance with you; you ignored his existence save for the occasional backlash whenever he stepped into your vicinity, and Ezra was left to wonder after the dark and nearly forlorn look constantly trapped in your eyes (he always tried to despise you, like he could easily despise Zeb at times, but there was something in how lost you looked that stopped him).

Though, today was different. Every once in a while you took to the habit of taking his beloved helmet for reasons only the stars could know. On these days he could scour the Ghost to find you lazing about like a cat, donning his helmet as you stared at the expanse of sky from the gunner. 

So he immediately set out for the gunner of the ship, already preparing his quippy remark, only to falter when you were nowhere in sight. Ezra squinted at the vacant seat, zeroing in on the dual beskar knives safely in their sheathes. Beskar, he awed for the umpteenth time. He’d asked after them too many times to count, only receiving one answer from Sabine: “We used to have similar lines of work. She was very skilled at hers. That came with perks.”

And the mystery of you expanded, as it always did.

“Hey.” Ezra looked into the dimness of your and Sabine’s room, finding the latter at her desk fiddling with her recently damaged blaster. “You seen Six?”

“Why?” She sighed as her blaster sparked up again. “You gonna start problems?”

“Okay, one, I never start anything with her. Two, I just want my helmet back.”

Sabine threw her blaster down, frustrated. “Haven’t seen her today. You checked the gunner?”

“Three times, just in case she was hiding.” That got a laugh from Sabine, who shifted to stand and stretch. 

“Then I dunno how to help you, kid. She’s gotta be somewhere.”

That would have been fine advice, if for the rest of the day Ezra didn’t continue searching the recesses of the ship, his intent slowly shifting from demanding back his helmet to just making sure you’re still alive. 

Ezra burst into the common room around the time the whole crew was gathering to grab something to eat at the end of the day, his hands planted on either side of the door as he said with a sudden urgency. “Has anyone seen Six?”

Sabine had the nerve to roll her eyes. “Again with the helmet? She’ll give it back—”

“Has anyone seen her?” Ezra cut in to demand once more, scanning his eyes across the room. “Think.”

Only a moment passed before the others started to furrow their brows and shift around. Hera glanced up at Ezra. “Not since this morning.”

A murmur of agreement ran through the crew. No one had seen her all day, neither had they heard her voice from across the ship, shouting about something or other that someone had done wrong.

Thus, the manhunt began, but even when everyone was shouting your name throughout the ship, there was no response. Lothal’s moons had already risen about halfway into the sky. Creatures started to come out at this hour, varying from the wild things to troopers. 

You were out on the Lothal plains after dark, without your knives, and Ezra suddenly forgot every wrong you’d done against him. You were a pain in his ass, but if you were gone, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. 

Setting out was the easy part, Hera and Chopper staying behind to watch the Ghost whilst the others rushed into the night, armed with their weapon of choice. Ezra took one of the stolen speeders stowed away in the hold, swinging a leg over and taking off across the plains as Sabine took the second speeder in the other direction. 

Ezra tried to ignore the wind hitting his face and focused solely on the hum of the speeder, the sway of the tall grasses, and the sudden and faint flutter of a heartbeat somewhere in the distance. Over the course of his training with Kanan, Ezra took to secretly memorizing the sound of your spirit, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your notorious sneak attacks. 

Practically shutting off everything other sense, he leaned to the right, following the ringing of your heart and soul deeper into the plains. The grasses grew taller here, unhindered by farming, and rocks stretched high into the sky, forming a sort of labyrinth between them. He weaved the speeder in and out of several stone mountains, sensing the ring growing closer. 

The ground elevated into a slope as the rocks fell away to reveal dusty ground, and Ezra took a left at the very last large mountain. It opened up to a bluff overlooking the East. Ezra slowed the speeder to a light rev, the ringing now a strong buzz, and your heart a steady beat in his head. 

You were here, that was for sure. 

Cutting the ignition, Ezra stepped off the speeder and sauntered forward, eyes scanning the area. Just when the buzz and ring of the force grew too much, Ezra caught a movement ahead of him, and the sounds all fell away. A figure was sprawled out on the grass, shifting every few seconds like they couldn’t get comfortable.

Then the figure sighed, and Ezra confirmed it was you (he’d heard that agitated sound enough times to know it as yours). 

Ezra should have learned by now to proceed with extreme caution, but he had always been a stubborn learner, so he trudged through the grass uncaring of the crunching underfoot. You lurched upward like a frightened animal, eyes locked on him in her instant. Ezra instantly drew a mental image of a loth cat, hackles risen and fangs bared. The likeness was uncanny.

“What’re you doing here?” You sat back slowly, examining him carefully.

He nearly scoffed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Blinking blankly, you turned and plopped down on the grass, facing the plains. He stood for an awkward few moments before you snapped, “I’m fine. You can go.”

“Yeah, right.” He plopped down in the dirt beside you, a generous berth between you. “You scared the kark out of everyone.”

Your answer was instantaneous. “Why?”

Ezra paused, thought some, looked at you, and spat the awkward words out. “We care about you.”

You waited for the blow, the butt of the joke, but it never came, and you were left awkwardly staring at his profile. “Oh.”

“Is that a surprise?” he wondered.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not for the others…”

Ezra rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands, unable to take it any longer. “Can I ask you something? Why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked as if the question shocked you, and wasn’t at all valid. “What? I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he scoffed. You huffed and turned away, crossing your arms over your knees. 

“Well, I don’t. You’re just…”

“Just what?”

Pursing your lips, your eyes darted back to meet his, brows furrowed. “Annoying.”

Ezra met your gaze back with a mirrored intensity. “And you’re rude.”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d leave me alone.”

“We’re on this crew together!” he snapped. “I physically cannot ignore you. So, if you could get over whatever grudge you have against me, that’d be great!”

“Don’t—” You got a grip on your emotions, averting your attention to the sky. In a softer tone, you warned, “Don’t yell at me.”

Taken aback, Ezra gave you an odd look, shifting to catch your eye. You just shifted further away from him, grunting something under your breath. You’d always been so haunted and withdrawn. No one would ever tell him why.

It couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Are you…” He hesitated, waiting till you cast him a glance. “Are you okay? Why were you with the Hutts? And what does it have to do with bounty hunters? Why—”

You sneered as your hand clamped down on his mouth, nearly knocking him backward. Holding his eyes in a glare, you huffed. “Just shut up, okay? You ask too many questions.” You plopped back down and retracted your hand. “Annoying, like I said.”

“I want to help you.”

“Did I ask?”

The silence was thick, broken only by the chirping of bugs in the tall stalks all around. You ran a hand over your face, almost trying to hide, before sighing and glaring at the sky. “Whatever… I used to be something of a bounty hunter. A weapon, more like.”

Ezra felt like that should have been obvious, and did his best to hold back his questions as you shifted uncomfortably. “Some bad people with the Guild found me as a kid, when I was just some nobody doing acrobat tricks for money. They thought I had potential, so they just… took me. Didn’t really matter. It was better than the streets, I guess.”

Tugging at your hair, you gave a little shrug. “They taught me a lot about killing and stealing and what-not. Long story short, I was sold to the Hutts like this shiny new assassin toy.” You pumped a fist. “Yay.”

He felt a little bad for grinning, sniffing as he nodded. “Then what? You got here somehow.”

“I’m getting there,” you gritted. You tried to look pissed, but couldn’t hold back a slight grin. “Sabine found me, like, a year before they found you. She was on a mission, and I tried to pick-pocket her. She chased me a mile around the city before she caught me.  A shorter story short, the crew helped me escape the Hutts, and the rest is history.”

One thing still didn’t add up. “How’d the Hutts get you back?”

“Oh, uhm… they caught me.” There is was again; haunted, a shadow crossing your eyes as memories played up in your head. “I, uh, didn’t think the crew would come after me, to be honest. I kinda resigned myself to a life trapped on Tatooine.” 

You caught his eye. “Then you showed up and broke me out.”

“Was that such a surprise?”

“Maybe. I mean,” you murmured whilst playing with the grass. “It didn’t take too long for them to replace me, did it?”

And suddenly, it all fell perfectly into place. All the hatred and coldness, the malice and contempt… you thought they’d replaced you. Really? Ezra coudln’t stop the laugh bubbling out of his chest, not even when you shot him a deathly glower.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just—What?” Ezra shifted ot his knees, beaming down at you as he shook his head. “They never replaced you. All I ever heard when I joined was about this mysterious crewmate they’d lost.” He flicked your forehead. “If they replaced you, then why’re you still Spectre 6 and I’m Spectre 7?”

You started to snap back only to stop short, gaping like a fish as you grasped for some kind of defense. You couldn’t find one, apparently, and promptly snapped your mouth shut. 

“I never thought of that,” you muttered at last.

No duh. Ezra barely held back a roll of his eyes. “Think about it then.”

You did (he could tell form your thoughtful sneer) and you slowly raised your gaze to look at him again. The haunting was still there, but your eyes were softer than they’d ever been when laid upon him. “I’m… sorry.” The way your face scrunched up amde it seem like ti was painful to say, your monotone going on, “The way I’ve treated you hasn’t been fair.”

“Thanks,” he said with a gentle nod, and an awkwardness settled around the pair of you. “So… wanna head back?”

Instantly you shook you head, returning your attention to the sky. “Not yet. Wanna watch the stars.”

He noticed your lack of jacket just as he shivered. “You’ve gotta be cold.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. You can head back if you want.”

Ezra didn’t move an inch. All he could think wa sthat maybe, he was finally going to get to know the Six the crew knew. The one who laughed freely and pulled tricks. The one that played hide and seek with Kanan and was always so frustrated when he cheated and used to force to find you. 

So he stayed right where he was, lazing back on the grass to have a better view of the sky. “Nah. I’ll stay.”

You cast him a short glance as you laid back as well. “Okay…”

Only an hour later, when you’d fallen asleep and punched Ezra when he tried to wake you (“I’m sorry!” “Yeah, yeah.”), did you and Ezra head back to the Ghost. You kept falling asleep on him, forcing him to use one hand to steer the speeder and the other to keep you hands around his middle. 

Relief coursed through him when he caught sight of the ship, warm light flowing from the open hatch, a few silhouetted figures pacing back and forth. He pulled the speeder to a stop and leg you go, sighing even as you slid off and hit the ground with a thud.

Probably not the best choice, especially not when Hera bolted from where she sat and rushed to your side. “What happened? It she all right?” She glared up from the ground. “Ezra!” 

He raised his hands in surrender, trying to defend himself, when you groaned and blinked blearily around. “Why am I on the ground…?”

Hera gripped your shoulder and held your face in her palm, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded hesitantly and tried not to seem too content with the soft touches. “Yeah? I was just asleep.”

Harsh footsteps echoed form the ship and out stomped Zeb moments later, rough around the edges per usual. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Uhm, out?” you replied, brows vaulted as Sabine rushed out beyond him. The whole crew stood around, all looking a mix of relieved and pissed. “I was just up on the bluffs…”

Hera let out a sigh and allowed you to sit up on your own. “And that’s fine, but you should tell someone before you disappear all afternoon.”

“I didn’t think it mattered that much.” You shifted around and stood to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. 

No one really said anything, only exchanged odd glances, until Hera blinked quickly and set a hand on your shoulder. “You look cold. Come on.”

She made to guide you inside when you suddenly stopped, turned to Ezra, and grinned tightly. “You’re… not so bad.”

And with that, Hera dragged you into the warmth fo the Ghost, leaving behind you a fairly confused crew. All eyes fell to Ezra as he smirked and gave a simple shrug. Sabine offered up a smile of her own before she snapped and pointed at the boy. “Oh, you were looking for your helmet right?”

He’d completely forgotten. “Oh, yeah.”

She passed a hand over his hair, ruffling it up. “It’s under your desk, idiot.”

Ezra huffed, hiding the flush in his cheeks as he muttered under his breath, following after Zeb and Sabine as they headed inside the ship. The hatch rose up behind them and hissed shut just as Kanan came up beside Ezra, one brow raised. 

“So you two are friends now?”

He rolled his eyes at that. “I think so? She’s very cryptic. But, I don’t think she hates me.”

Kanan laughed. “That’s a start, I suppose.”

Ezra had to agree. 

And as time would pass, and your walls slowly tore down to reveal a human so bright and radiant, both you and Ezra nearly forgot all about the days you’d come close to murdering him. 

[electrikworm]

Test Subjects: Part 2

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Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Drug Usage

Summary:

After finding out about the tampered with stims, Hunter tries to contact Crosshair. Only problem is, Crosshair refuses to answer is comlink. Hunter correctly suspects that something is very wrong.

Word count: 1,650

Read on Ao3

Hunter's crouched near the central landing platform in the base when his comlink activates, allowing Tech's voice to spill into his helmet.

“Do not use any of the new stims,” Tech speaks, sounding out of breath. “They've been tampered with.”

Hunter groans, catching what Tech means immediately. It's been a while since new supplies have been tested on them, Hunter should have expected something like this. Then it dawns on Hunter that it's strange Tech decided to inspect the new stims mid mission.

“Tech, what happened?” Hunter asks. Something feels off.

“I gave Wrecker two. He's unusually hostile and currently running from us.”

“Kark,” Hunter hisses.

“You can say that again,” Echo's voice joins their conversation.

“You two focus on getting Wrecker, I'll contact Crosshair,” Hunter orders, getting affirmative answers from both his vode.

As soon as Hunter's cut the communication with Tech and Echo, he switches to Crosshair's comm-channel. “Cross, we've got a problem. The stims we got are bad, don't use them.”

Hunter waits, waits for a full minute, then two, all with no response from Crosshair.

“Crosshair, answer your comm,” Hunter tries again, a little louder this time. Crosshair has a tendency to block out his surroundings when sniping, but this doesn't feel right. He doesn't answer Hunter this time either.

“Crosshair!” Hunter snaps. The silence answering him is deafening.

Hunter tries to remember the last time he talked with Crosshair, coming to the worrying conclusion that he'd communicated with him directly only at the start of the mission. Anything could have happened during that time. He'd heard the shots of Crosshair's Firepuncher, but that does little to calm Hunter.

He peers across the landing platform. Crosshair set himself up somewhere here, that much Hunter knows. There are deactivated droids littering the the platform in every direction, giving Hunter no indication of the origin of the shots. Crosshair will likely be on one of the roofs or raised platforms.

Hunter will have to rely on his senses to find his little brother. Crosshair's evidently too far away to be heard, Hunter can't hear his heartbeat or breathing. Hunter doesn't let himself linger on the thought that he might be unable to hear Crosshair because he's dead.

Tilting his helmet up, Hunter sniffs the air. There are dozens of smells hanging in the air, fuel and fire being those most noticeable. Some natborn separatist wearing an awful perfume must have been near the platform a while ago and a container of mechanical lubricant must have spilled some way away. Under all the different scents, Hunter can pick out his brother.

Hunter knows they all crossed the landing platform earlier, but distinguishing Crosshair from the others isn't difficult.

Careful of the open space of the landing platform, Hunter follows the smell. If Crosshair is well, he'll cover Hunter, but if Crosshair were well, he'd answer his comm. Even he isn't petty enough to ignore Hunter in such a serious situation.

Hunter moves slowly, watching his surroundings. He can't hear any droids nearby, but that doesn't mean he's safe.

Halfway across the platform, Hunter stops to look at the building he's approaching. The roof is high, no clear way indicating how to get up, but it's the direction the scent has led him so far. Hunter can't spot Crosshair on the roof, but only a lousy sniper would let themselves be seen this easily. That means nothing and says nothing about the state Crosshair is in.

That's when something in the air seems to tense, putting Hunter on high alert. He drops to the floor, blaster bolt clipping his shoulder bell. Ducking behind a crate, Hunter stays flat to the ground. He hisses between clenched teeth as he prods at his shoulder. A second shot rings out, hitting the ground near the crate.

Hunter recognizes that sound. Crosshair's Firepuncher, he's sure of it.

Confusion grips Hunter as he tries to make sense of that revelation. Crosshair wouldn't shoot at his brothers, not in a way that actually hurts them. But no clanker can snipe like that. Hunter's not even sure B1's and B2's can deal with weapons they weren't programmed for.

“Crosshair, what the kark are you doing?” Hunter tries his comm again, not even expecting an answer any more.

There's one way Hunter could explain the situation, that being Crosshair taking one of the experimental stims. He doesn't like the idea of two of his little brothers having unidentified substances in their blood, but it's better than Crosshair being dead and having his blaster stolen.

Moving close to the ground, Hunter sprints to the next crate, just a little closer to where Crosshair should be. Two bolts narrowly miss Hunter. If it's Crosshair on that roof, something in that stim is making him slow.

The next bit of cover is further off. Hunter doesn't doubt Crosshair will hit him if he's exposed for that long, so he attempts to create a diversion. Pulling the arm off a broken B1, Hunter throws it across the platform. It clatters across the ground and, as predicted, it is hit by a blaster bolt split seconds after landing.

Hunter can work with that. Grabbing two more pieces of twisted metal, a head and a plate of metal likely previously part of a droids chest, Hunter runs, throwing one after the other far away from himself.

He doesn't wait around to watch Crosshair shoot, only hearing the two shots across the landing platform. It's a distraction, but not a big enough one. A third shot is fired, hitting the outside of Hunter's thigh.

Either Crosshair's aim is off, or the shooter is toying with Hunter.

Laying on the ground behind the cover of a land-speeder clearly used to haul crates, Hunter listens for movement as he inspects his leg. It's worse than his shoulder, but thankfully missed bone. Hunter grits his teeth as he moves. He's closer now, almost certain he can hear a heartbeat. It has to be Crosshair's.

Hunter looks underneath the speeder, scouting his route. He's almost at the building, only needing to cross a few more meters to get there. The speeder looks functional and from what Hunter can see, he could drive it. Doing so would make him a target, but the speeder can serve as a diversion.

Without thinking too much, Hunter quickly pops up from his cover, activating the speeder. Speed clearly isn't what the vehicle was designed for, but as Hunter runs, he can hear it knocking something over.

Shot after shot is fired, but none at Hunter. Only when he's underneath where Crosshair should be does the agony of his leg catch up with Hunter. Pressing his palm to the thigh plate on his injured leg, Hunter searches for a way up. The heartbeat is louder here, fast and frantic. It's Crosshair's, Hunter's sure of it.

He's in a corner, one wall being almost featureless duracrete. There's a slight indent in the second wall due to a window and a ventilation unit a little above it near the first wall. Above the Ventilation unit sits a grate, likely a part of ventilation as well. Hunter reckons he could use the gaps in it to climb high enough to reach the roofs ledge.

Hunter sighs. Of course Crosshair would pick to scale something like this. If Hunter had the time, he'd look for a better way up onto the roof, but they're rarely afforded the luxury of time.

Pulling himself onto the tiny ledge of the window, Hunter can reach the space between the wall and ventilation unit. Pressing a hand against each surface, Hunter uses his legs to give him enough leverage to lift his hands higher. After a few more rounds of this, Hunter can press his back against the wall to keep himself in place.

Slowly, he shuffles up the wall, pressing himself against either surface to stay up. When he finally grasps the edge of the ventilation unit, Hunter drags himself up onto it, internally cursing Crosshair the entire time.

Hunter's legs shake as he stands up, groaning at the pain shooting through his injured limb.

The grate is a little ways up, so Hunter has to jump to grab it. Not wanting to hang there, begging to be used as target practice, Hunter begins to climb. He's yet to attract Crosshair's attention. If he had, he'd already be dead.

Once over the ledge and on the roof, Hunter crouches low, looking around as he gains his bearings.

Sure enough, Crosshair is laying flat on the roof, Firepuncher in hand. He still hasn't noticed Hunter. A couple of destroyed droids are spread across the roof, proving to Hunter that there must be a better way up here. The air smells of dried blood, giving Hunter an idea as to why Crosshair might have taken a stim in the first place.

As he shuffles closer to his brother, Hunter hears his breathing. Crosshair's almost panting for air, nearly as hectic as his heartbeat. There's no doubt in Hunter's mind, Crosshair must have took a stim.

Hunter doesn't want to opt for immediate hostility, not wanting to harm his brother, but can't think of a good way to subdue him.

Before his mind can go further than that, Hunter's comlink activates.

“We found Wrecker,” Echo says, sounding winded, “Everything good at your end.”

“No,” Hunter hisses quietly, hoping Crosshair doesn't hear him, “Crosshair had a stim too. I've almost got him.”

When Hunter cuts the connection, for a split second, he thinks Crosshair hasn't noticed. Then Crosshair suddenly sits up, turning quickly to stare at Hunter.

“Just me, Cross'ika,” Hunter ties, “Stay calm, I'm not the enemy.”

Usually, speaking softly works wonders against the fog stims put on his brothers minds. Not with the altered stim.

Crosshair stands up, raising his Firepuncher as something almost growl-like falls from his lips and pulls the trigger

Mando'a Translation:

Vod/vode – sibling/siblings 'ika - diminutive suffix, can be added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form

[erinkeifer]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀 - 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕖

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: You were certain that the Order would never make itself known to you again until your communicator woke you up. You find out that Anakin has stepped onto a path he shouldn't have.

Warnings: angst | hurt | descriprions of pain | mentions of injuries | kissing | subtle sexual references | fluff Author Note: So, the inevitable has come – the finale! I can't believe it's over already – NMC has brought me immense joy, but it's now wrapped up, exactly in the way I envisioned this ending from the start. So, my dear ones – play Duel of the Fates and I invite you to enjoy the read! Word Count: 3,3k

When the first signal on your comlink sounded, you were so groggy that you thought you were still dreaming. You slept through the night without a single interruption, unable to determine whether it was due to emotional exhaustion from the previous day or thanks to Anakin's warm embrace, ensuring your utmost comfort until you fell asleep. In any case, you wanted to continue your carefree rest and reached out for Anakin, who should have been lying on your left. Well, he should have been. You groped around for him but only encountered a cold pillow, the realization of which made you instantly open your eyes.

"Ani?" you called out in a slightly hoarse, 'morning' voice, but all you heard in response was dead silence. Rubbing your eyes, you noticed that his side of the bed was in disarray. Completely disoriented, you took a few steps to see that his boots were missing by the door, and the coat you sometimes borrowed from him was absent from the wardrobe when you needed a quick cover-up. Trusting that he had just stepped out for a moment, you decided to go to the kitchen and grab something to eat. However, once again, you heard a sound that seemed like a dream – the sound of the communicator.

"Um… Who's speaking?" you asked, answering the call blindly. "It's Rex." you heard from the other side, and you couldn't hide your confusion. "Rex? What's going on? Why…"

"Ma'am, I'm afraid something really bad has happened." The captain cut into your words, and you instantly felt a chill running down your spine. It was a tone you definitely didn't like. "What happened?" you asked, becoming increasingly certain that what you were about to hear would cause you considerable pain. "It's about Anakin. Please come to the Temple, preferably as soon as possible."

You froze for a moment, envisioning hundreds of possible scenarios at once when you heard Rex's words. Did someone harm him? Is he in danger? You didn't want to get worked up, but you felt like you were panicking more and more.

"Rex, I'll do everything in my power, but please tell me, what happened? Did someone hurt him? Is he injured?" You could only think of him. Only about how maybe he wanted to avenge yesterday's events and got into a fight, that someone laid a hand on him. You didn't want to imagine it, not when you couldn't be there for him, when he might need you.

"I don't know about him, but there are wounded. There are also dead." .....................................................................................................................

You've never been more grateful for the existence of air taxis in Coruscant than now - if it weren't for the available fare, you probably wouldn't have had a way to reach the Temple. You were surprised when you noticed Anakin's ship wasn't on the landing platform when you disembarked, but the Captain you had been communicating with just a few minutes ago was waiting for you right at the entrance.

"I arrived as fast as I could… I thought I'd find Anakin's ship, but…"

"Ma'am, you need to know something, now." Rex caught you by your arms, interrupting whatever you were about to say.

"I'm not waiting." You replied, hearing muffled cries from a distance.

"We had a massacre here… Obi-Wan and Padmé went after Anakin, and he… lost his mind." Your insides boiled upon hearing the Captain's words.

"How did he lose his mind?? Where is he at all??? And what about… Padmé?" You weren't surprised that Anakin struggled to say her name - over time, you found yourself feeling the same way as your attachment to him strengthened, and jealousy grew in equal measure.

"On Mustafar, Ma'am. The Senator didn't get clearance, she shouldn't have been there, but…"

"Of course, she shouldn't have been there." At this point, you tried unsuccessfully to break free from the Captain's grip.

"Let me go, I need to…"

"This could be deadly danger for you, you can't…"

"If so, am I to understand that he is also in deadly danger?" You cut Rex off before he could finish his warning. "I'm afraid…"

"Don't finish. If he dies - I die too." You looked deeply into the captain's eyes before he released his grip and you could return to the landing platform.

"Please, be careful." he called after you, and you turned around to nod in gratitude. Among all the ships parked on the platform, you chose the one you were most familiar with, wasting no time as you jumped into the vehicle. Before even slamming the door shut, you punched the coordinates into the console. You had no idea what you would find, and your heart was pounding - not because you're heading towards the most fervent planet in the galaxy, not because you're flying completely unarmed - but because you're afraid you might lose him. ..................................................................................................................... You landed on the platform near the command chamber - there you also noticed two ships familiar to you, which you almost brushed against when positioning your own. As you stepped out, you almost recoiled from the heat - you had only been on this planet once, and its atmosphere sent shockwaves through your body. However, you quickly felt that the physical heat was a minor inconvenience - you felt a boiling sensation in your veins when you saw Padmé sitting at the end of the platform next to Obi-Wan's parked ship. The senator had her hands on her head, and although her posture wasn't standard, you could have ignored her and continued, but at this moment, you needed to know one thing - where is Anakin.

You had no intention of exchanging pleasantries; you were distant, and acutely aware of it. "Where is he..?" you asked with a cold voice, wanting only one straightforward answer in return. Amidala remained silent, locking eyes with you, and with each passing second, you felt yourself slipping into growing fury.

"If you don't tell me, I'll find him myself. But if, before I do, anything bad happens to him, I'll come back, and I'll make sure something bad happens to you. So, I'll ask one last time - where-is-he?" you uttered through gritted teeth, making dramatic pauses between each of your last three words."

"Now I have no doubt that it was you who got to him." Padmé declared, and without hearing the response you needed, you provocatively withdrew. "So, you've chosen option number two. An exceptionally unwise move…" you began to walk in the opposite direction very slowly, feeling the tension building within you. "He attacked Obi-Wan… And me… They went there, I didn't want to witness it..." she finally replied, then you turned towards the direction indicated by Amidala. "You shouldn't be here." you muttered under your breath as you walked where the two men were supposed to go.

"Especially not you." she replied, as long as she still had you in sight. You stopped before disappearing behind the command station wall and threw the senator a final glance.

"I'm here for someone I love because I know how to keep promises, unlike the ones you threw to the floor like dirty rags." you retorted, and you heard no response. Instead, the sound of clashing lightsabers reached your ears. You immediately quickened your pace, heading towards the source of the sound. You cast off your covering just as you approached the edge of the platform, which was being flooded by molten lava, and you froze when the silhouettes of the apprentice and the master finally came into view before your eyes.

"You underestimate my power…!" You heard Anakin's scream and tried to get as close as possible. Skywalker stood on a detached piece of ground amidst the spreading lava, with Obi-Wan above him, positioned on a secure spot on the edge. "Don't try it…" You didn't understand what Obi-Wan meant until your vision sharpened, and you saw that Anakin was attempting to jump towards him from his precarious position. Too late. "NO!" you screamed desperately, straining your lungs, as Kenobi severed Anakin's legs in mid-air, also cutting off his left arm, which remained suspended along with them. You ran desperately, stumbling over irregularities in your path, crying and shouting, seeing your beloved one fighting for survival, clinging with one hand to the rocks. You collided with Obi-Wan when you reached Anakin. He looked at you with eyes you had never seen before - you didn't care whether they were consumed by darkness - you were doing everything in your power to save him. Dazed by the drastic sight, you didn't even hear Obi-Wan's cries behind you.

You pulled Anakin up by his shoulders, trying not to slip off the cliff yourself - you sobbed and drowned in tears, hearing his agonizing groans. You couldn't lose him. "Please, lean on me, please…" you pleaded with a broken voice, doing your best to prevent him from coming into contact with the lava. "I loved you… Both of you... But I can't help you anymore." Obi-Wan managed to shout at you before he left, and you exchanged a last glance with him - probably the saddest you've ever shared.

When you managed to pull Anakin to a safe point, you fell powerless and laid him back on your knees. His face was worn out, eyes visibly circled and reddened - he breathed harshly and deeply as you combed through his sticky hair with trembling fingers, and your tears fell onto his torso. "I… I…" he tried to say between deep breaths, but you quickly interrupted him, seeing that speaking was causing him tremendous effort. "Shhh, I know… Please, breathe deeply." you whispered, seeing the pain written on his face. Each rise of his chest was torture for him, and you could do nothing but wait - wait for someone to take pity on you and come to help.

"Don't close your eyes, love, please, don't close your eyes!" you cradled Anakin's overheated face with your hand as his consciousness seemed to drift away - you weren't surprised he couldn't endure it- you doubted you could bear such pain yourself. "Please, stay with me! Ani, I love you, please, stay with me!" he heard from you before his conscious vision was covered by a haze. And then, darkness fell. .....................................................................................................................

"Does it hurt him? Please, do something…" you asked, leaning with trembling hands against the Venetian mirror that separated the spacious but dingy operating room. "You must know, young Lady, that this pain will strengthen him." replied Palpatine standing at your side. When he took you from Mustafar, you could barely recognize him - almost until now, you were afraid to look him in the face, but you had to get used to it - just as you would have to get used to the new shape of your beloved. Anakin looked as if he were sleeping, but he winced painfully with every movement of the surgical tools - each involuntary reaction of his body broke your heart. You couldn't stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks one after another.

"Don't worry. This boy is the strongest being I've ever known. And soon - even stronger." added Palpatine, seeing your despair. Your legs buckled under you from stress, so you sat on the nearest seat, in a section of the room that resembled a hospital waiting area - with the difference that everything around was incredibly sealed, as if prepared and reserved specifically for him, just in case.

"Only a blind man wouldn't see the feelings that connect you two. What a shame that the Jedi would prefer to exile both of you in the name of their code." you stared at the wall as Palpatine spoke those words, and at that moment, you felt how far you were from the life you once led. "This is not my code anymore." you responded with a somber but confident tone, drawing Palpatine's gaze. "And I have a feeling it never was." you added after a moment, and a semblance of a smile appeared on the hooded man's face.

"I believe so too. That's why I had to set you free." he responded to your words, and you didn't say anything, just looked at him, feeling a complete emptiness inside. "Anakin swore allegiance to me- our cooperation can be fruitful like never before. But if you harbor feelings for this boy, you'll have to stand by him and strengthen him, just as he does for you. Together, you can be stronger than anyone in history and build your own." he continued. Barely after he finished, you heard a signal coming from the adjacent room - the procedure was over, and the doors opened. You rose impulsively and felt the urge to run into the room immediately, but you knew you had to maintain relative calm. "Please be cautious, Ma'am." said one of the exiting medical droids as you approached the table where Anakin lay, and you nodded, not wanting to make any abrupt movements. His torso and thighs were half-covered with robes – from the knees down, new leg prosthetics were already in place, and his left arm also had a replacement – each clad in black, leather-like material.

Only his face was as it was before – maybe not as bright, but his facial features, beneath all that pain and exhaustion, were still beautiful – temporarily concealed by sleep that you didn't want to interrupt. Temporarily, because Anakin woke up as if he felt your presence nearby. You pulled a stool towards you and sat down, gently brushing the matted strands of hair from his warm forehead with a soft hand motion.

"Hey." his voice was still rough and tired, but as soon as you heard it, a smile appeared on your face.

"Hey, love." you replied in a whisper, seeing a smile growing on his face as well. His eyes were darker than ever before- you focused on them, remembering how dynamically their shade changed on Mustafar – back then, there was red, there was yellow, but now, there was definitely more calmness emanating from them.

"For a moment, I thought I lost you." you said, and after a while, you felt his right hand – the one you both were already accustomed to – reaching for your cheek.

"It seems you'll have to put up with me a little longer." he replied, and you laughed, a reaction he also instinctively mirrored, but he quickly got winded and started coughing.

"Slowly, my love, take it slowly." you signaled to Anakin, placing your hand on his chest, not wanting him to exert himself. "You need to rest… Your body needs to regenerate and… Adjust." you whispered to him, running your hand over his shoulder, looking at his new prosthetics, to which both of you would certainly need to adjust.

"Where will you be?" Anakin impulsively asked, seeing you rise from the chair.

"If you want, I'll be here with you, but you need to rest." you replied, and you saw a smile on his face – now, without a doubt, knowing he wants you by his side.

So, you sat back down, glancing occasionally at the apparatus surrounding you. Anakin's heartbeat was stabilizing, and at this moment, that was the most reassuring thing for you. As usual, you would want to listen to it as closely as possible – just like you used to fall asleep, with your head on his chest – but you couldn't afford that, not yet. Instead, you leaned against the free space on the headrest of his medical table and gently stroked his exposed arm, ensuring he felt as comfortable as possible.

"Hold my hand." his eyes were closed when he whispered these words to you, and you immediately reached for his hand, enveloping it with your warm fingers, hoping he could feel your touch to some extent, as if it were his own skin.

"One more thing." you heard after a moment, and your eyes once again shifted to his, still peacefully closed. "Kiss me, please." he added in a whisper after a while, and you instantly felt warmth in your heart. You rose very gently from your seat and pressed your lips to his, uniting them in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips had a metallic taste of blood, which came from the small wounds caused by biting them in pain. You didn't want to press too hard to avoid additional pain, but Anakin deepened the kiss, so you held as much as he needed. Well, both of you needed it so much that you certainly wouldn't leave this room for a long time, but for now, it had to be enough.

When your lips finally parted, you returned to your position, never letting go of Anakin's hand. For the first few minutes, it was tightly clenched in yours, but little by little, the grip loosened, and his breathing evened out. You watched with tenderness as his chest rose and fell calmly, and his tired face peacefully sank into the pillow. In a moment, there was no more pain, no more fear and sadness – there was only a peaceful sleep that soon visited both of you. .....................................................................................................................

"Watch out, QT." you said to your droid, who occasionally had a habit of rolling over your long, trailing black gown that you decided to wear today. The past month had turned your lives upside down, but it was better. You could feel it.

"You are so…beautiful." you heard behind you as you combed your hair in front of the mirror. In the reflection, you saw Anakin, leaning against one of the pillars in your new apartment. His new style was much darker, but it suited him well. Your style had also changed, and you could almost say it had adapted to Anakin's. You chose long dresses more often than jumpsuits, while Anakin opted for black robes with small metallic accents that complemented his leather gloves.

"It’s only because I’m so in love." you responded, turning to your beloved and smiling at the sight of his dreamy face. "No. No, it’s because I’m so in love with you." he replied, approaching you with a wide smile, grabbing your hands—adorned with lace, black gloves to harmonize with his.

You left a short, sweet kiss on his lips and playfully grabbed his cheek, unable to look away from his face, which had remarkably healed since you started your new life. "I see you're getting used to it already." you said, looking first at the hand embracing you and then at Anakin's legs. "It was easier with the hand. Well, I'll definitely miss them…" he chuckled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression, his hand gently gripping your chin. "Do you know what else I miss?" he asked after a moment, and you quickly understood what Anakin meant, even just by his gaze.

"I know." you responded with a tender tone, and it was evident that both of you missed it. "Aren't you afraid anymore, the first time? With this?" Anakin whispered. "Honey, you know I'm not. I just don't want to cause you pain." you replied, stroking his cheek, to which he smiled gently. "You won't, I believe it will be perfect…" you approached each other, but soon heard a knocking on the door. "Come in." you said, and soon R2-D2 emerged from behind the door, emitting a few informational beeps.

"Yes, yes, we're coming." Anakin responded to his droid, and you looked at him with interest. "Are you ready?" he asked after a while. "If you kiss me, maybe I will be." you replied teasingly, but Anakin fulfilled your wish faster than expected, pinning you against the wall and overpowering you in a passionate kiss. "So, are you ready now?" he replied breathlessly after a short attack on your lips. "Like never before." you answered, embracing Anakin at the waist, but soon one of your hands dropped to grab his.

"I can't believe it… We're getting married, my love…" "We're getting married."