#I wish more Jedi looking clothes were available cause

[burnwater13]

Grogu wondered how Ahsoka Tano had managed to remain hidden for so many years. Just the color of her robes, drab, not quite black, but not brown, would have given her away on Coruscant. Only Jedi wore such forgettable clothing there. But other than that, she was a very striking person and she commanded a lot of attention just by standing still. When Grogu stood still for too long in any one place he risked being kicked because he was so small people didn’t even look for him.

He supposed it was like his dad said while they were waiting in line to buy some fire snacks (a spicy Mandalorian pastry), that if you look like what people expect to see they ignore you. Grogu guessed that was why people never ignored his dad. Most folks never expected to see a Mandalorian in armor standing in front of them tapping their foot impatiently because they knew that fire stacks only took a few minutes to prepare and if the proprietor hadn’t been chatting with the pretty Twi’lek they could have made many more of the desserts and not run out just as Din Djarin reached the front of the line. 

Grogu wished that’s how things worked for him. Usually he had to go get his dad, from wherever he was, and explain what he wanted and then explain it again because the Mandalorian was stubborn and always took Grogu’s first attempt at communication with him to be just Grogu acting ‘cute’. When Din Djarin finally worked out that Grogu wanted something, then they had to go through the whole process of determining whether or not what Grogu wanted was actually good for Grogu, within the Mandalorian Creed, affordable (ha, armor polish was always affordable for the bounty hunter) and available wherever they were or wherever they were going. It was a lot. 

Even when he was at the Jedi Temple as a youngling he had to get help from other younglings to be noticed. His friend Ian helped him the most, but there was also a girl in their group who would help him from time to time. Cordy was almost as sassy as Ian. Despite that, she was also a person Grogu called ‘friend’ because he couldn’t think of any other word to describe a person who came to your defense but still never let you forget that they did it. 

Once, when they were all playing a game of ‘Who am I?’, Cordy was the only one who guessed that  when Grogu walked around the room with his shoulders back and his head tilted slightly to one side and sighing deeply, that he pretending to be one of the Jedi Masters. But instead of just calling out the name, like everyone else did, she said, ‘Aren’t you a little short to Jedi Master Windu?’ 

Of course Grogu was a little short to play any of them. You had to use your imagination and think and apply what you knew about other people and then draw a conclusion based on your data. Cordy was very good at that part, but why she had to notice the differences when proving to everyone that she also noticed everything else as well confused him. 

There was the time at the library when he wanted to check out a couple of data cards of a vid program called “Diggle and Daggle, the Fish that fish, present tips and tricks on fishing on Kamino. Grogu had never heard of Kamino, but he loved Diggle and Daggle and never wanted to miss a vid. 

The only problem Grogu was having was that the Jedi who was working at the circulations desk didn’t notice him standing in front of it. He had tried to move farther back to improve the angle of sight, but that didn’t help. He tried getting closer, but that also failed because the desk was covered with returned data cards. He tried being loud but that didn’t work either. 

He was about to give up when Cordy walked over to the desk and then walked around it and tapped the Jedi who was there to help on their leg… by kicking them. While that had definitely produced a result, Grogu wasn’t sure it was the result everyone wanted, because in her defense, when the head librarian asked who had caused the ruckus, Cordy had replied that it was the Jedi at the circulation desk, because how could he miss someone as completely noticeable as Grogu? 

When the head librarian noted that Grogu was small and wore a tan coverall that blended in to his surroundings, Cordy had snorted.

“Sure, he might look just like a scruffy nerf-herder, but then he also looks just like Master Yoda. You notice him, don’t you?” 

The librarian had no comment to that and just sent them on their way. Grogu was happy because the Diggle and Daggle vids had been in that stack of data cards that covered the desktop, so he got what he wanted. He also appreciated Cordy’s help even though it came with the comment about being scruffy. His hair had recently been trimmed and it just wouldn’t lay flat at all. 

He asked her if there was anything he could help her with, but she said not just yet. That had been kind of an ominous comment so he asked her when she would need his help. 

“You’ll know when I need help because I’ll be saying ‘Grogu! Help me! You’re my only hope’. If I’m not sayin’ that, I’m fine. But watch out for that nerf herder you hang around with. He’s gonna need someone to save his butt one day and it’s either going to be me or you doing the saving.”

Grogu wanted to laugh at that, but Cordy was right. Ian was going to need saving by someone. Probably from a garbage chute knowing Ian. She was also right that it would probably be her or Grogu doing that saving. He guessed that Ian was just fated to have that sort of life. A reminder that the Force was mysterious.

He wondered where Cordy and Ian were now. No doubt bound together in some sort of mischief. He had no doubt that Cordy and Ian survived, just as he and Ahsoka Tano had for all those years. They had probably set up a shop on Coruscant called Jedi-R-Us. Hiding in plain sight was a skill that some people were born with.  Like Grogu.

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Ten

Wc: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

“Master,” Anakin faltered on his way to the piloting chair. His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, unreadable. “I was wondering where you’d run off to after Grievous fled. Looks like you’ve earned yourself another vacation.”

Grievous had thrown him off a building? You’d heard legends about how awful the part-human mostly-droid General was, but you’d never been at the same battle as him before. A small part of you wished to see if the stories people told about him were true-- if he really was the feared Jedi-killer he was known for being all across the galaxy.

“That won’t be necessary this time,” Kenobi was thankful for the banter. It gave him an excuse to get his mind off the searing pain in his arm. “Thankfully, I have Y/n here to fix me up good as new.”

“You’re right. She is extremely capable, isn’t she?”

His eyes twinkled, just slightly so that only you could catch it. You smiled, chest blooming with warmth as your fears were all washed away. Things weren’t different because he’d been gone for so long. He still cared for you, the same as you cared for him. The war couldn’t change that.

“I would trust no one more with my saber arm,” Kenobi grunted again as you began to wrap gauze around his shoulder, fitting it into a makeshift sling.

“Enough flatter,” you hushed them both, though the smile was evident on your face. “Keep this ice on your shoulder and take it off if it goes numb. And don’t move too much-- we won’t know if you broke a bone until we get you x-rayed.”

You let him take over holding the ice pack to his shoulder, reaching into your medcase for some painkillers. You were scraping the bottom of the bottle, honestly surprised you even had any left to spare.

“Lucky you, you get the last two.”

Kenobi grunted in an attempt to laugh, and swallowed the pills you gave him. After waving off your attempts to get him to lie down somewhere, he stood with a groan and braced himself on the back of Anakin’s piloting chair. He began to heckle him, trying to kick him off so you could have a look at his head.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had seen a trickle of blood on his cheek, but that was it.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, but gave his seat up anyway so the injured man could sit. He pressed a few more buttons on the piloting interface, putting the ship on autopilot as he stepped away. “Y/n, I’m fine.”

You were already pushing him by the shoulders to sit on the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying. He sat with a huff, crossing his arms childishly as you turned his face in your hands.

“See?” he mumbled. “Nothing to worry about.”

His forehead had been gashed open, from the top of his hairline to the tip of his eyebrow. Your blood began to beat thicker in your veins, the panic causing your stomach to knot as you got to work dabbing the blood away with some alcohol cloths. It looked worse than it was-- the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it had bled a lot. Head wounds always do.

He winced slightly as you cleaned the wound, the half-second of pain crumpling his face causing your movements to freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you stroked his jaw with your other hand, the one that was holding his face steady. You hoped it would distract him from the sting.

Those blue eyes stared at you the entire time, unperturbed. “It’s okay, really. I’ve had worse.”

You assumed he was right. If this scratch was all he’d come out with after weeks on the battlefield, he was either really lucky or really skilled. You guessed it was both. The evidence of less fortunate encounters rested on his right thigh, clad in a leather-buckled glove. You couldn’t even imagine what that pain had been like.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said this quietly, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear. Anakin brought his flesh arm up to hold your hand to his face, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of your soft, smooth skin. He had desperately missed your touch, your voice, those steely eyes and that gentle strength. After so long wishing you were there to curl up beside him in the off chance he got to rest, you were finally here. Now, he was going to be selfish and make up for that lost time.

“We’ll be right back,” Anakin called to Obi-Wan with his eyes still closed, hand still holding your palm against his cheek. “Y/n’s going to come to engineering with me to help repair my arm.”

“Your arm? You mean the metal one? I didn’t know it was damaged.”

“Just a little waterlogged. Shouldn’t take too long… or maybe it will. We’ll see.”

Anakin stood, the tips of his fingers tickling yours. He led you out of the room, through the halls of the cruiser, slipping into an unoccupied resting room and slamming the lock on it.

“If you’re expecting me to know how to help you with your arm, you are very mistaken,” you admitted. “I know nothing about mechanics.”

Anakin blinked at you, and then laughed. That glorious, glorious laugh. His arms fell to his waist, where he unclasped his belt and then discarded it on the desk. His tabards came next, and then the robes underneath. You ogled him as he stripped, a steady flame rising to your cheeks, thawing out the weeks of grey-nothingness.

“Umm.. Anakin.. what are you doing?”

It was suddenly very hard to swallow as his bare middle was exposed to you, rippling with muscle. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were frozen in your spot, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes so I can properly hold you,” he explained, bending down to dig through the drawers underneath the metal cot. He turned to eye you up and down, shamelessly lingering on every inch of your body. “I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh?” You looked down, seeing the blood stains splattered all over you. “Oh.”

He was pulling a loose-fitting recreational shirt over his head, the same kind that was supplied in all resting rooms for people to wear if they wanted to sleep in something more comfortable. You were still rooted in your spot, forcing yourself to gather enough wits to unzip your field suit.

All you were wearing underneath was a black undersuit, tight enough to leave little to the imagination. It was meant to keep you warm and wick away moisture, not to be seen in by any incredibly sexy Jedi Knights. Your heart hammered in your chest, skin beginning to sweat as his eyes probed into you.

“You need help unzipping?”

“Uh… I got it,” your fingers snapped to your zipper, now that he was watching you, you didn’t want to be a fumbling idiot.

You were glad for when he seemed to become enamored by the state of his clothes, and you knew it was for your sake. Still, it did little to calm the pounding of your heart as the suit dropped to your ankles, every inch of your black-spandex clad body now available to his eyes.

Get it together. Your chest was visibly moving up and down as you fought to control your breathing, almost panting with anxiety. It’s not like you were naked. What a fucking virgin.

He turned from his pile of clothes, those blue eyes making no effort to hide the way they scanned you up and down. All you could do was stand there at his mercy, burning under that stare.

You expected him to frown. To snarl and pull away and tell you to get dressed again. How disgusted, he should be, you thought. How appalled.

You knew you didn’t have the best body. You’d been to enough nightclubs, seen enough people naked in your workstation, watched enough programs on the holonet to know that. You had always wanted to be like Ahsoka and Sabè— they were slim and toned, long and graceful. Their cheeks were sharp, their fingers elegant, and waists tiny. Your thoughts turned to Padme— his past lover— horrifying you further.

You were nothing like her.

That tiny frame, the beautiful face, and the perfect body. She was so smart, so important, and shaped so womanly. You were nothing to compare.

How could he even stand to look at you?

“Okay, I guess I’ll come to you then,” that silky voice teased, and suddenly you were wrapped in a pair of big, strong arms. It took a moment for your breath to return to your lungs before you realized he hadn’t pushed you away, and instead he was clutching you to his body like a starving man.

“I missed you,” he breathed into your ear, cementing this reality. Your body erupted in a flurry of butterflies, warming you from the inside out.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He still liked you. He missed you. Even after seeing your body like this.

“I missed you, too,” you returned his words with emotion thickening your voice, bringing your arms up to wrap around him as well. He sighed at the feeling of your arms on his back, melting further into your neck.

“Wanna move this to the bed?”

He did most of the work shuffling your embrace onto the metal cot, lying down and pulling you so that you were on top of him. You were beginning to think you actually just had a heart condition, because it was beating out of rhythm constantly now, your pulse spiking and temperature rising at this new position.

You loved it.

He was hard, and warm, and strong beneath you. You were able to lay your head on his chest, stare at the exposed skin of his neck as he rested his chin on your head. Your legs slotted between his, so long in comparison to yours, while his arms secured you to his body around your back.

You’ve never felt safer in your entire life.

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder. Were you crushing him? Was he uncomfortable? What if he was and he was just too polite to make you get off? These thoughts caused you to tense up in his arms, suddenly rigid with fright.

“What’s wrong?” He caught onto your worries immediately. His hand smoothed up and down your back, hoping to soothe your tense muscles.

Maker, you were sick of being the insecure one in this relationship. You wanted nothing more to lie on the man you adored’s chest. Anyone else could do it. Why couldn’t you?

Relax. You hissed at yourself. Relax relax relax relax relax—

“Am I making you uncomfortable again?” The pieces clicked in his head, and the brush of his hand against your back stopped. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

“No.”

You wiggled your body, wordlessly begging him to resume his motions. You clutched tighter to his shoulders, dug your head deeper into chest, even turned to plant a small, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” The smile was evident in his voice.

“Yes.”

You could never ask someone to make more of an effort to make you feel comfortable around them than Anakin did. And he did it with no price held over your head, no expectations, no pressures. If your timid nature put him off, he never let you see it. Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. Any other guy, you wholeheartedly believed, would be running in the other direction when they realized you couldn’t even hold eye contact with them for longer than 5 seconds.

But this shyness— it was exclusive to Anakin. You wouldn’t be this way with anyone else, and it frustrated you to no end.

The least you could do was prove that his patience was paying off, and take a leap yourself.

You planted your hands on either side of his body, pushing yourself up so that you were hovering right over his face. Your knees followed, holding your weight as you sat yourself onto his lap.

Scandalous, for the amount of clothes you were wearing.

A surge of confidence ran through you at the surprise that crossed his features. His eyes were wide, confused, as you took his face in your hands, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

This was your domain. You had always been the mynx of the group, luring men in and then leaving them cold. You loved the power it gave you, the ability to promise everything and then take it all away. It left them yearning for you, begging for you. And you loved it.

Sabè and Ahsoka were entertained to no end, watching you string along guys all night just to leave them hanging by the end. It was all a game to you, the flirting and teasing and wooing. You loved to feel needed, to feel wanted, but you never actually planned to do anything more with them.

So when the night ended, and you wanted to go home, you would break the game off and leave them feeling cold, and angry, and cheated. That’s when you’d get cussed out by egotistical whiny men, demeaned and degraded until their little hearts felt satisfied. To be fair, you never promised that anything would happen. It was simple flirting. It was completely on them that they expected things to go any further than that.

That’s why when Anakin came around, you felt like you had been run over by a speeder. He was the only one capable of making you feel like a bug next to him. Every moment he had you tripping and stumbling, your heart stuttering out of time, your cheeks burning with bashfulness, you hated yourself. How could you let one man have that kind of effect on you? It was pathetic.

But now, you were determined to get a little part of your old self back. You wanted to feel in control again, to have that power. He was just a man, after all, and most men were the same. You just needed to dangle, and they’d be all over you.

You continued to smooth his bangs away with the tip of your finger, ignoring the adorable look of confusion he had on his face. Actually, he seemed to really be enjoying himself despite not understanding where this was coming from, so much that his eyes were closing and he was thinking about maybe taking a little nap.

With his eyes closed, it was easier to lean your face in further. Your eyes zeroed in on those perfect pink lips, so full and inviting and soft, even after weeks of brutal combat. You wondered how they would feel on your own, how he would respond to you kissing him. You could imagine the way he might sigh and cup your face, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. Sharp pangs of longing twisted your stomach into knots.

Anakin could feel your soft breath on his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest, fingers tightening on your waist. Were you going to—?

He was ready for it, no matter what it was.

Just as he was sure you were going to press your lips against his, you pulled away, planting a teasing kiss to his cheek instead. With no explanation, you fit your head back onto his shoulder, lying down against his body again.

What was that all about?

He opened his eyes, glancing down to see you resting with your head buried in your neck. You were like a kitten, breathing quickly and softly, a small smile curling your lips.

He dismissed the thoughts to analyze for another time. Right now, his body ached and his head throbbed. Your figure was soft and warm against his, and your calming presence was making his eyelids grow heavy. He decided to take your lead, and followed you off to sleep.

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Two

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I’m making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

Baast woke to the scent of cooking meat. It made her stomach rumble and mouth salivate but also confused her. There had been no one in her life for many years. There should be no one to cook. Her eyes snapped open, prepared to fight whoever had found her.

Then her eyes fell on Din playing with Grogu, and it all came flooding back. He spoke softly through the modulator, encouraging the boy to float the small silver ball from Din's hand to Grogu's.

When the child succeeded, Din whispered a pleased, "Dank farrik!"

Baast almost purred, watching him with the child. He made an excellent father, and she was of an age to desire a mate, a home, a pride. But a warrior like him deserved someone better than a broken Zentari. It mattered not that her soul cried out whenever he touched her without the barrier of his gloves.

He'd stripped them off yesterday, and she could smell him—the spicy scent of masculine soap blending seamlessly with the musk of a man warm in his beskar. But the underlying scent of Din Djarin was that of the sandy dunes of her homeworld. He smelled of warm winds and dusky plains, of tall grasses whipped by fragrant breezes. 

He smelled like home. 

The stars were cruel indeed to drop her in the lap of the one made for her.

She watched them for a time as he encouraged Grogu. Their bond was strong, too strong if the Jedi were to be believed. Such attachments bred fear for the one they loved, and fear lent itself to the Darkside. 

The idea of Grogu's pure soul becoming tainted made her ache, and though she said she couldn't help them, Baast knew she must. Grogu deserved a chance to grow up on the side of good. 

She sat up, drawing Din's notice, the man turning toward her across the fire. 

"Morning."

Baast wondered at the voice behind the modulator. Would it be deeper? More robust? Would it be even more pleasing than this one that stroked fingers of violent want through her blood?

"Good morning," she murmured, voice husky still with sleep. 

Before she could ask, the canteen he carried on his belt was in his hand. "Drink?"

She nodded, catching it easily when he tossed it to her. "Thank you. I'm not used to morning conversations anymore. Or any conversations in some years."

"You've done well, evading capture until now. Now, the Tribe will help."

"The Tribe," she whispered. "I've been alone for so long." The idea of being part of something was both appealing and terrifying. "I look forward to meeting your Alor."

"She will be glad to meet you. They all will. Everyone will hope-" He cut himself off, busying himself with the lizard cooking over the fire. 

"Mando, they should not hope for what I do not think I can give," she sighed, lifting Grogu to her lap when he shuffled over.

"You don't know for sure you can't bond, Baast. Give it time."

Time was all she had. Life was a long thing for a Zentari alone in the universe. 

Small green hands gently touched her cheeks, causing her to look down at Grogu. He cooed a sweet noise as she gazed into big, dark eyes. They were expressive in their own right, and she felt herself falling, diving once more into his mind. 

The images came fast and furious. Din running, fighting, killing, but almost always alone. 

Baast closed her eyes as pain washed through her for the Mandalorian. "I cannot," she whispered to the child. "It would not be fair."

Grogu frowned at her before squealing loudly. More images filled her mind, these of a man reckless with his safety, one who had little to nothing to live for. 

She gasped and wrenched her face away from his hands, but it didn't stop the flow of ridiculousness. Kriff! The man had a death wish!

When Grogu disappeared from her lap, only then did he release her from his grasp. 

Baast sent the green menace a glare. "That was entirely rude."

He smiled and blew a raspberry. 

"I'm sorry," Din murmured, holding the child away like Grogu was a danger.

She held up her hand, continuing to glare. "Do not apologize for something he did. It sets a poor president. Invading my mind is bad manners, little one. Disregarding another's desires is a step down a dark path. This will not be allowed."

"Dark path?" Din asked. 

"The Jedi and the Sith. One force believes in peace and passivity. The other wants power and are often corrupted by that passionate desire, both use the Force. He has the potential to be extremely powerful, but with that power comes responsibility. It is a razor's edge to walk, one I am not confident I have the skill to help him navigate."

Din straightened, but his shoulders lowered, relaxing his posture. "You'll help him? I didn't want to bring it up, but I'm running out of options."

"Yes," she sighed. "I know of one who may be able to help him, but I do not know if he will come at my call. Where is your covert?" He said nothing, and Baast tilted her head in apology. "That was an improper question. Forgive me."

"Always," he murmured.

She wondered if that would still be true should he learn what Grogu already suspected. "If I am to make contact, it must be from Tatooine."

"Why Tatooine?"

"Because it is the planet we agreed upon." She turned toward the fire and the spit of roasting meat before looking up at Din. "Have you eaten?" 

The movement was subtle, a single negative action.

Baast hummed and reached for the cloth that tied her pants' to her calf and began to unwrap it. 

"What are you doing?"

She ignored him and continued until her pant leg fluttered free. The cloth was only a couple inches wide, but it was long and thick enough to make an adequate blindfold. 

She lifted it to her eyes, only for his hand to shoot out and grab her wrist. It felt odd for him to touch her with the slightly cracked but soft leather of a glove now that she knew the feel of his skin.

"You don't need to do that."

Baast blinked slowly, gaze drifting to his hand before returning to the visor where his eyes would be. "It is not a need but a want. I will do this, Din Djarin, so that you may eat freely with the child and I. This is the Way."

"It is unnecessary."

She unfolded, rising gracefully to stand before him, wrist yet held in his grasp. "When last did you eat?"

He said nothing.

She tilted her head and held out the cloth. "I have not shared a meal with another in many years. I would share this meal with you and Grogu. Allow me to honour your Creed."

There was no sound, no movement beyond what Grogu contributed to the conversation in small burbles of noise. The Mandalorian was still and silent, a hunter in all things.

Baast waited, quiet, calm. After so many years in a cell, the forest gave her peace, but those years had taught her patience. She could wait for eternity for his decision. She had the time, after all.

What went on behind the helmet, she couldn't know, but eventually, he set Grogu down, released her wrist, and took the blindfold. "Turn around."

She did so, pushing her hair back to uncover her ears. "If possible, try not to cover them. The tips are sensitive, and the fabric will feel abrasive."

The cloth came down over her eyes, hooked behind her ears, and crossed at the back of her head. 

"Again," she murmured. "I can still see."

Twice more, the fabric circled before he tied a knot. 

Her senses heightened, hearing, smell, and the sixth sense that had been with her all her life. The Force resonated in every living thing, glowing and pulsing, connecting all of them. She could see it like an orange glow, thin lines and thick, veining out around them. 

"Good?"

"Yes." The heat of the fire warmed her skin, but before she could move, Din took her hand and elbow. 

"Kneel. I'll get you some food."

Baast followed his direction, aware of the bright light that was Grogu coming to her side. He placed his hand on hers, flooding Baast with a gentle apology. She turned her hand over to hold his little claws.

A quiet hiss filled her ears, causing her to turn toward Din. The beskar blocked some of his energy, the Force somehow muted by it. Then he lifted off his helmet. 

It took every effort to restrain herself from gasping. He glowed white, the shining brightness of a sun. Shock left her mute as she tracked the supernova that was this Mandalorian as he set down his helmet and removed the spit from the fire. He pulled off a piece of meat, maybe a leg, she couldn't quite tell, and brought it to her. 

"Here." The deep baritone was like the softest of silk to her senses. 

Baast held out her hands for the meat. His bare fingers grazed her palm as the hot meal hit her flesh, and grease trickled through her fingers. 

"Thank you," she managed to force from a throat gone tight with emotion. 

"It's hot. Be careful."

She stuffed down the aching need to reach out and feel the lips that produced such a voice and smiled crookedly instead. "Too long have you travelled with only Grogu for company."

He chuckled. "Perhaps."

Another wave of needy desire hit her, but Baast fought it off. She would not doom him to a half-life with an unfinished bond.

She ate and made sure he ate once Grogu was fed, asking questions about the child and how they came to be together simply to keep him talking. His voice was a balm to a soul grown used to silence.

When they finally finished their meal, she waited for him to return his helmet and come to release the blindfold. His hands were deft, skilled, and careful not to pull her hair.

Baast blinked to adjust to the quickly blooming daylight, then retied her pant leg as Din smothered the fire. She reached for Grogu and stood, ready to leave. 

"I can carry him."

She tilted her head, already missing the gentle ebb and flow of the Force from him, now encased in all that beskar. "Do you object to me carrying him because you think I am weak or out of principle because he is your foundling?"

"Uh…"

She arched a brow. "Do not underestimate me, Mando. I live because I am jatnese be te jatnese. The best of the best."

"I know what it means," he huffed.

"Then stop being ori'buyce, kih'kovid," she smirked. "I will care for the child as you have cared for me."

"Atin," he muttered. 

She didn't protest because, yes, she was stubborn.

"Fine." She could almost hear a pout in his modulated voice as he turned and marched out of their temporary camp. "And I'm not all helmet," he grumbled, likely thinking she couldn't hear him.

Baast smirked and gave Grogu a wink. "Come along, ad'ika. We weak ones best keep up with the big strong Mandalorian," she teased.

"I will leave you behind."

She grinned at his back. "No, you will not."

***

By the time they reached the Razor Crest, he was sweating in his beskar again, but with the luxury of the fresher within sight, Din didn't let it bother him.

He disarmed the ground defences and lowered the hatch, heading inside to get them underway. He wanted off the planet before anyone else thought to come looking for Baast'mal. 

Hopefully, the Alor would know who to bribe to falsify a new chain code for her. Either that, or there would be an all-out war to eliminate the threat and bounty on her head. Or, she would spend the rest of her life hunted by the Empire.

He hated that thought. Baast was not a creature who should spend her life hiding. She should be allowed out into the light, a creature of hope and beauty. 

Though he hadn't seen the true colour of her eyes, the rest of her was so mesh'la, when he'd removed his helmet, it had momentarily taken his breath. And without the helmet, her scent had filled his nose like something he'd loved and long forgotten. It was warm, soft, and decadent, all things a Mandalorian put off when he put on the beskar. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep his hands to himself.

She closed the ramp and followed him to the ladder, climbing up with Grogu to slip into the seat back and to his right.

"Once we've left the atmosphere, you're welcome to the fresher, food, whatever you need," he offered, getting them airborne.

"Do I smell?"

He froze. "That wasn't what-"

Her laugher, that throaty purr, cut him off. "It's fine, Mando. An actual fresher after years of lakes and waterfalls will be pleasant."

"Hm. I have to make a stop on Nevarro, then another before we go to Tatooine. Is there anything you need?"

"Clothing. A cloak. And a weapon."

They cleared the planet, and he made the jump into hyperspace before turning around. "What kind?"

"Short sabres or staff will do."

He watched her pet Grogu's ears, gently using those long claws in such a fashion the kid was almost comatose in bliss. She sat with one foot propped on the seat, comfortably leaning on the armrest. He wondered if her skin would begin to lose its sun-kissed nature now that she was off-world.

"How did you learn to fight?" he asked, forcing himself not to think about her skin and how soft it was. 

"Mandalorians are not the only warrior race. Zentari are taught from birth; the rest I learned from the idiots who held me captive. They sought to make me a weapon or a slave, with that came training, but Zentari are not so easily coerced, nor do we forget the slaughter of thousands. I am no weak-minded individual to be controlled by some Sith," she spat.

"Sith?" He knew next to nothing about Force-wielders and felt the lack of knowledge acutely. 

"They oppose all things the Jedi stand for, desiring power over peace or balance. They corrupt what they touch.."

"And how does a Zentari hold out against someone so powerful?" He didn't wish to insult her, but surely a child against a master Sith couldn't win.

She sighed and looked away, watching the lights of hyperspace. "Zentari are neither good nor evil. We are Force neutral. The blood bonds distinguish much of our future. To avoid creating bonds with those that would bring harm was why Zentarus was so well hidden. But someone betrayed us. They used to brag about it, the Imps. How one who we trusted gave us up to the Empire."

"If you are Force neutral, why allow Mandalorians to know of Zentarus? Why let us come seeking mates?"

She shot those vibrant eyes back in his direction. "Because the Way was honourable once. Perhaps, at some point, Mandalore was led astray by their leader, but that was not our doing. Those that came to us knew the Way. They humbled themselves before us, and if they were denied, they left knowing such was not their destiny. Those who came knowing not the Way… did not leave Zentarus alive."

"Then I am glad I knew the Way," he murmured, wondering who would have won between the two of them had she not revealed herself.

"As am I," she nodded, looking as regal as the Sand Panther she claimed in her blood.

"Were the Jedi not part of your Way?"

She scowled. "The Jedi saw us as a threat. Naturally born Force users who required little training to do much of what they could, who lived for generations, and who were neither good nor evil. They feared what would happen if we were corrupted. An attempt was made to wipe us out. It failed, and we Zentari veiled Zentarus from those who knew not where to look."

"And that's why you didn't want to help us," he sighed, realizing the untenable position he'd put her in.

She stood, placing the sleeping Grogu down on her seat before taking the step she needed to stand between his spread knees. Her hands lifted to land lightly on the sides of his helmet, gliding over the metal. "It is no longer a want but a need. I will not watch Grogu fall to the side of the Sith because of my fear of the Jedi. He must be trained."

She leaned down and rested her forehead against his helmet as long lashes veiled her eyes. "This is the Way."

Without his permission, Din's hands found her hips and drew her incrementally closer. "I will protect you, Baast."

"We will protect each other."

He hummed his agreement and wondered at the low ripple of sound vibrating through his chest.

Next chapter

[kinsbin]

Brother and Sister [Xena/Obi-Wan Kenobi {Platonic}]

Title: Brother and Sister Pairing: Xena/Obi-Wan Kenobi {Platonic/Familial Selfship} Word Count: 2710 Rating: T [Drinking, Mentions of Vomit]

Summary: On an undercover mission to scout out a wanted criminal, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Xena find themselves in a cantina with a little too much alcohol in their system. Well, too much in Xena’s system at least. The confessions it causes Xena to spill to her friend comes as a shock to them both as she tells him feelings she hadn’t told anyone else before. Yet, it brings them closer all the same.

A/N:A piece I did for my platonic ship with Obi-Wan because HE’S MY BROTHER and thought we had a rocky relationship at the start, I grow to love and cherish him as my family ;w;

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Xena threw her head back, swallowing her fifth shot of hard liquor in one fell swoop and slamming the glass down onto the table with a satisfied sigh. Obi-Wan felt his eyes narrow as he watched the girl before him sink comfortably down to lay her head on one of her arms against the table, humming as her eyes lazily scanned over the crowd with delightfully obvious curiosity. .

Obi-Wan kicked her under the table, making Xena yelp and slam her head a bit too hard into her glass. 

“Obiiiiiii-” Her whine was childish as she pouted, her gaze genuinley misty with near tears as she threw herself forward to tug at his arm, “Why’d ya do thaaaaaaaaath-?”

“Shush,” Obi-Wan ordered carefully, “We’re undercover, remember? You shouldn’t use my name in a place like this.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Xena nodded as she waved down a passing waiter, tapping the edge of her shot glass with two fingers to signal her need for a refill. She smiled as the Mandalorian woman in the cantina’s uniform gave her a nod and scooped up her glass without another word. She waved as the server disappeared behind the bar and giggled when she saw the look of near fatherly disapproval in his eyes as he watched her form. There was another tap to Xena’s leg, softer this time and with more of a worried reach through the force than pleasant. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? I doubt you could even see straight enough to identify our target.”

“Puh-LEASE-” Xena giggled out as she accepted her shots from the same Mandalorian server as they passed by, throwing it back as quickly as she had the fifth one, “You said we’re undercover right? You’re not a patron in a cantina unless ONE OF YOU is drunk off their asses. ‘Sides, it’s been a while since I’ve had any good liquor! Can ya just let me have this?”

Obi-Wan sighed, knowing that no matter his orders she was too far gone for him to truly be able to stop her. Her mind was swimming in a groggy field of wet soup, endless and vast in its reach as he prodded gently at her with the force to assure her state of mind. Xena tilted her head from side to side as she stared at the table for a while longer with a spacey curiosity that seemed to overrun her mind. 

The two wore such casual clothes in the night that one would never assume their position as Jedi and Force Sensitive sidekick, Xena mused with a giggle to herself. Indeed seeing Obi-Wan out of his Jedi robes, a pair of simple trousers on and a top that showed off his arms a little too much (Anakin’s defense being that it was the only thing they had available, though she was sure he just wanted to embarrass his master) was a sight that no one would believe should she try and describe it to them.She couldn’t wait to message his lover, though, and describe the sight to her. Lord knows it would make the woman flustered and that, Xena hid her mischievous smirk, was worth this entire mission. A bubble of giggles rose in her throat and she exhaled them with a smile beneath her arm.

“What’s so funny?” Obi-Wan took a sip of his own water as he asked the question.

“You look stupid,” Xena declared, “Your face and those clothes... all so stupid!”

“Are you always this brutally honest when you’re inhebriated?”

“Maybe? Can’t remember! Haven’t been proper drunk since I left Tatooine YEARSSSS ago.”

The mention of her old planet made Xena pause as she leaned forward, touching the rim of her sticky shot glass with moderate fascination as she let the sound of the music and laughter surrounding them overrun her senses for a few, sweet moment of blissful static in the back of her mind. 

“He never liked drinking... We rarely went to cantinas unless it was for trying to find information on the Jedi... even then, it was always to eat more than to get a drink.”

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything. Xena could tell from the tenseness in his shoulders that he knew clearly who she was talking about. Her smile turned something between bitter and sad as she sat up a bit, wobbling through her lack of central balance and leaning her face on the palm of one hand, staring at the Jedi with vague interest as her mouth curled and offered itself to continue with an almost biting done behind her slurred speech:

“You know, he was a really good guy, Obi.”

“He was a sith lord.”

“HE WAS THE MAN I LOVED!”

She yelled this last part, hands slamming down on the table as she flew upwards into a standing position. Xena’s eyes were fire, red and hot and angry so much so that her tattoos seemed to glow along with her frustration. At this point the cantina fell silent as patrons turned to face them both, eyes suddenly all too interested in the spat of friends that seemed to be occurring between them. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and stood up, slamming down his own glass alongside enough currency to cover the tab both of them had accumulated before making his way to Xena with a sigh.

“I think you’ve had quite enough for one night. We’re going back to the hotel.”

“No,” Xena bemoaned, “I want another shot.”

“No,” Obi’s firm voice left no room for fighting him, “You’re going back.”

---

Xena couldn’t walk straight as they left. Obi-Wan settled for wrapping one of her arms over his shoulder and carrying her sideways, like a drunken puppet, out of the cantina and towards the overlooking inn a close distance from the small hole in the wall they had found. All the while Xena didn’t look at him. Her gaze cast itself to the side as she wobbled, mumbling words to herself in languages she was clearly mixing up and slurring with the alcohol in her system. 

Eventually she fell, laying down on the cool concrete and refusing to stand, causing Obi-Wan to groan and simply scoop her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

Xena let him, though her constant wiggling and shifting in his grip was enough of a signal that she wasn’t thrilled. 

No words were spoken until they arrived to their shared room, the two beds on either side sparse in their decoration but comfortable enough. Obi dropped her unceremoniously onto her own bed and ran a hand through his hair, sighing at the chances they had wasted all for one drunk assistant. 

“Next time,” Obi-Wan groaned, “You get one drink and water the rest of the night.”

Xena giggled and rolled in her bed, sitting up and hugging a pillow, tilting her head at the Jedi with a deep sigh.

“You know,” She hummed, “I used to really. REALLY fucking hate you.”

Obi-Wan froze and turned to her, his brows furrowed. He would be lying if he said those words didn’t hurt him just a little bit. Xena looked away before she continued through the pillow pressing ot her mouth.

“When you first found me on Maul’s ship... I lied to you, you know? I saw you kill him... I saw his body fall and I was so. So angry at you that I went to that ship and waited for you because I wanted to kill you myself... But when you came and I felt your... Your force and aura and... I thought ‘whats stopping him from killin you if he finds out what Maul was to you’? So I lied and told you ‘n the council that.... that he kidnapped me. But you know- you know i know you do- that that wasn’t true. He was-”

“Your lover,” Obi finished for her as he saw the tears stain the corners of her eyes, “I know.”

She laughed as her sadness rolled off of her in waves. A hot and warm thing that boiled the air of the force around her as she clung to the pillow tightly and shut her eyes to try and stop any more wetness from accumulating in her ducts. Instead the tears fell anyways, hot and thick down her cheeks as she laughed a little more.

“I hated you for months after that. I hated seeing you... Hated being near you... But... But I... You offered to keep me with you and Annie... Let me stay by you and train even th-though I wasn’t even fully anything but a little force sensitive and... you were so fucking kind to me it made me want to throw up -k inda still does but i also had six shots of liquor...”

Xena winced, suddenly queezy, but she finally opened her eyes, still tear filled and wet but... she was smiling now, wincing at Obi as she tilted her head.

“Now I... don’t hate you, just so you know. I don’t I... You’re the closest thing to family I ever had, really.”

“Family?” The word left Obi-Wan’s lips before he could stop himself, confusion and awe clear in his face.

Xena nodded vigorously as she smiled wider.

“Yeah! Like an annoying older brother who never lets me have any fun.”

“You don’t get ot have ‘fun’ because I let you have fun tonight and the result was six shots and a scene in the cantina we’re supposed to be laying low in.”

“Yeah exactly just like that!”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and Xena giggled, falling backwards onto her bed and taking a long, deep sigh as she pulled her pillow closer to her and shut her eyes.

“I don’t hate you anymore, Kenobi... I just.... Wish that things had been different and I could still know you and have him... I know they can’t be but... As much as I love you....I miss him.”

Obi-Wan had nothing to say to her words. He merely approached her bed and sat at the side of it, running a hand through his friend’s hair as he watched her slowly, surely, pass out into a deep and immovable sleep. 

Obi-Wan didn’t move after that. He simply sat there and watched her rest, the slow and steady breathing of her dream-state the only sign of contentedness he had ever seen on the woman’s face in his life. Even then, there was something troubled about it. something in her brow and within her force that laced itself with a pained sort of pity that only substance abuse could possibly bring up within her as she clenched and unclenched her jaw rhythmically through her dream. 

She hated him, but now she didn’t. The words repeated themselves in his head as he thought of his own feelings towards the other. Similarly familial, he thought of having a sister. Of growing up at her side, protective and careful should any man or woman or creature alike try to hurt her. It was a strange sense of protectiveness that overwhelmed him. A gentle worry for the girl before him as he exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps if they were truly brother and sister, he could have led her away from the path Maul had set for her.

With her stubbornness, his mind warned snarkily back, he honestly doubted he would have made any successful progress.

Standing, Obi-Wan left Xena to her rest and exited out of the hotel room they shared. She wasn’t going to be feeling well in the morning, that was for certain, and he had to make sure that she at least could function during a call from the other Jedi Maters of their progress. 

---

Xena awoke the next morning with a pain in both her head and her stomach.

She groaned and rolled slightly in her bed, wincing as the light from the window above her assaulted all of the senses that were just too sore for her to function. Reaching aimlessly for a pillow, she flung it over her head and groaned in exhaustion as the hangover began to pump itself excessively in the back of her mind. What the hell happened the other night?

She spent the next few minutes simply thinking, as hard as the task was, about the night and the events of the bar. With Obi-Wan Kenobi and-

Her eyes widened and her face paled. Oh. So that’s what she had said to him, huh?

As if on cue the door to their room opened and Xena felt guilt sink itself fiercely in the pit of her stomach as she tried to bite back tears of shame. Her aura could not be hid as Obi-Wan stared down at the amalgamation of her in the bed, his eyebrow raising as she tried to curl herself into an even smaller ball against his Jedi presence.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted with a small smirk to his lips, “Still in the mood for another shot?”

“I’ll shoot you,” Xena groaned from her pillow despite herself, “Next time cut me off at two shots, please, I’m begging you.”

“I tried that,” Obi-Wan chuffed, “You gave me a less than pleasant gesture with your finger before taking your third.”

“Yeah, that sounds like two-drink Xena.”

There was a long swatch of silence as Obi-Wan walked over and placed a glass of water at the side of her head atop the table, the cool beverage making itself known with the metallic ‘clink’ of the cup as it hit the wood. Alongside it, a couple of small white pills were placed just in arms reach. Xena lifted up one edge of her pillow to squint at the newly arrived items in surprise.

“Some pain killers and water,” The Jedi above her stated, “I figured you’d need them after all of that.”

“Oh... thanks.” Xena murmured as she sat up just enough to take the beverage, popping the pills and chugging the water gratefully as her dry throat heaved in refusal of anymore liquid. God, she was probably going to vomit later, she winced at the thought. 

Obi-Wan smiled before going about his business in their room, and silence engulfed them once again.

Xena swallowed hard as she finally spoke:

“Master Kenobi about... What I was saying the other night... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Obi-Wan paused and turned to look at her with another raised eyebrow.

Xena didn’t look him in the eyes, hugging her cup close to her as she bit her lip and nodded.

“I talked about... I know he killed your master. I know what he did is wrong... I shouldn’t have shared what I did with you, and I especially shouldn’t have gone out of my place to talk about my personal feelings for you and-”

“That’s quite enough of that.”

Xena startled as Obi-Wan plucked the empty cup from her hands and set it on the nightstand with a sigh. 

“I won’t pretend what you told me didn’t hurt. It did-” Xena winced at the words - “But... You also told me how you see me as a brother. As someone, now, you care for. Was that part true?”

Xena blushed and huffed, nodding her head ‘yes’ as she curled in more on herself. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“And that feeling is mutual. I can’t stop the decisions you’ve made in the past, Xena, but I feel your future brimming with a brighter hope than ever before. Should I have the honor of being in your life to help guide you, well, I won’t say ‘no’.”

Xena stared, slack jawed in shock at the man before her as he ruffled her hair (causing another long pained groan to escape her lips) and returned about his business. She watched his back with curiosity, tilting her head and wincing as more light poured over his form and hurt her eyes and head all at the same time. Then, looking down at her hands and seeing the simple shape of them against the sheets... Xena smiled slightly.

Jedi couldn’t make decisions with their feelings... but it certainly didn’t stop them from having them, now did it?

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“... Thank-You.”

And he smiled despite himself.

“Of coures.”

[kittypeas]

An Agreement of Sorts

Summary: When Rey rejects Kylo’s offer, he has no one to turn to … and they say that an old enemy is better than new friend. Together with Hux they come to a certain agreement.

A fanfiction in which Hux and Kylo have sex but both ship reylo.

Warnings: dubious consent I finished it two years ago but somehow couldn't bring myself to translate it. Then, a week ago I just felt a need to UPLOAD THIS BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.  A BIG "thank you" to @shadowlass​  for beta-ing this one for me literally in the last moment. You are amazing! <3

Hux was his first lover. He knew it the moment Kylo Ren looked him in the eyes.

He watched Ren take off his shoes and his many layers of clothing and waited until he stood before him completely naked. Hux would remember this sight. Supreme Leader had the body of a giant and a boy’s face; his strong arms shivered from the cold. Then he lifted his head and their eyes met, and Hux could see that he was afraid.

Never before had he seen Kylo Ren so unsure. Ren was quick and didn’t hesitate when he gave orders to drop bombs, or when he decided to negotiate, or even when they were forced to give up a planet and retreat. Hux had to admit that Ren has fared well in his role as Supreme Leader. Especially his decision to create an intergalactic network of orphanages and schools seemed promising, even though it had already consumed billions of credits; now, in addition to an extensive health care plan, psychotherapeutic droids were purchased for every school, each machine assigned to no more than fifteen students. It had cost them a fortune, but Ren’s intent was unwavering. It was a great PR move; people would see that First Order had something to offer, something far more valuable than the promise of freedom, a beautiful but hollow idea that cannot protect anyone from cold or satiate hunger.

But when Hux and Ren meet, they don’t talk about politics; in fact, they almost don’t talk at all.

Experience had taught Hux how to recognize signs of interest from a potential partner. But what he suspected from their first meeting and what became apparent not so long later was the fact that Kylo Ren wasn’t particularly attracted to men. Hux wondered why he visited him at all, if that was the case; of course, he wasn’t excessively concerned with Ren’s well-being. Simply, Hux liked puzzles, and this particular one still lacked a satisfactory answer. Also—he could openly admit it—he wanted him; when Ren proved to be such a treat, Hux didn’t see a reason why he should deny himself. They were both adults, and he assumed that each of them could take care of his own needs. Yet Ren’s needs were peculiar.

That first time, Hux thought that he had misheard him. They were lying in his bed, covered in sweat and still breathing heavily; Kylo was facing the wall and Hux looking at the ceiling when, suddenly, Ren said:

“Could you scratch my back?” After a long pause, he added, “Please.”

That was how they came to this special agreement. Ren walks inside his apartment without a word, passes him by, and heads straight to the bedroom. They both undress and Ren kneels or lays himself on the bed, exactly the way Hux had instructed him first the time, and he waits. He doesn’t look at Hux or try to change the position; usually at some point during the act he would grab his penis and start jerking off. Hux then moves his hand from Ren’s hip and places it between his shoulder blades—he learned this quite quickly—and slides it along his spine; when he grabs his neck and holds him tight, Ren responds with a moan or sighs, and comes. But sometimes he just lays there, completely inert, and lets Hux fuck him as long as Hux wishes; then they both collapse on the mattress, and Ren asks him to touch his shoulders or his back, an odd but harmless whim that Hux can easily satisfy.

Kylo says, “You can go to the bathroom first,” or he asks, “Where are the towels?” but every now and then he says other things. When he said, “My mother was on bridge of that ship,” Hux didn’t know how to react. But it turned out that this question didn’t need an answer, nor do the others.

Ren says, “How could someone who grew up on a desert planet know how to swim?” or “Could the First Order technicians track a smuggler’s ship?” Then he stays motionless for some time before getting up and dressing as if nothing has happened.

It had been like that for weeks. Ren always took the initiative: During meetings he looked in Hux’s direction, waiting for him to notice, or casts him a fleeting glance when passing by in the corridor. Sometimes he doesn’t do anything at all, but Hux knows anyway, like the last time, when their spies brought bad news about the “new Jedi,” that filthy sand rat. Ren smashed every object in the conference room into pieces, and two soldiers were sent to the hospital wing.

Hux awaited him that evening. He was finishing his third glass of brandy when he heard the whizz of the automatic door. He got up immediately, catching Ren in the doorway. He grabbed his tunic.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”he roared into Ren’s ear. He would never dare to address him that way in public, but in this room, under his touch, it was as if Ren were on his leash. “These are my troops, Ren. Supreme Leader or not, you must understand that!”

“She was here, inside our ship,” Ren mumbled.

“Enough of this nonsense!”snarled Hux. He could feel his head spinning. “You pissed me off, and I don’t want to listen to you! Undress, now!”

But instead of waiting, he seized Ren by the neck and shoved him forward to the bed. He thought that Ren would fight him, but he didn’t; he fell on the edge of the bed and dropped to the floor. Hux approached him, knelt, and slid Ren’s trousers from his hips; he tried to remove them completely and he struggled to take off his shoes, but after the first one he gave up.

Hux took his penis into his hand and began stroking it urgently up and down. He looked around for the lubricant, cursing when he saw the tube standing on the dresser out of reach. Fuck this. He spat in his hand and hastily rubbed his saliva on his own cock. Then he grabbed Ren by the hips and entered him without any warning. Kylo breathed in sharply, but remained otherwise silent. All his muscles were tense, his spine twisted like wire. Hux pushed into him fast and hard until his breath became ragged and shallow, sweat dripping from his brow. Finally he came.

When he withdrew he saw a pinkish fluid oozing down Kylo’s thigh.

“Kriff…” he said with start. “Ren… you should have told me…”

But then Kylo started getting up from his knees and Hux saw his face;blood was trickling from his nose. Hux felt himself sobering immediately. How did this happen? He must have hit the bed frame when he fell.

“Get up, sit on the bed,” Hux said, and went to the bathroom. He took one of the towels, rinsed it in the sink and squeezed it out. He returned to the bedroom and sat beside Kylo. He sighed.

“It was not my intention to hurt you.” Hux said. Gently, he put the towel to Kylo’s lips and watched the white cotton turn red. “Causing you pain was never part of the deal. An apology is in order.”

Kylo sniffed, a wet, gurgling sound, and swallowed what must have been blood; Hux felt his insides turning. Instinctively he reached into his pocket for a cigarette. He picked one, fired it, and, laying down, took the smoke deep into his lungs.

“Do you want some?”

Kylo nodded and laid down next to him. His fingers were trembling as he took the cigarette. He brought it to his lips, but as soon as he inhaled he started choking and coughing. He returned the cigarette to Hux.

They stayed silent for some time. Hux saw that one of Kylo’s socks had come off together with his shoe. His trousers were still tangled around his ankles.

“Hux…” he said, looking at the ceiling. “Do you think I’m ugly?”

Hux glanced at him. He saw the scar on his cheek, wet, tousled hair not quite covering big ears, swollen, bruised nose that seemed to take up half of his face.

“Where did you get this idea from?” he said.

“Do you think…” Kylo tried again “That I could be considered handsome by some… be considered handsome by some girl?”

“I’m not an expert, but I would say that girls like emperors. Well, not all girls…” he added, thinking of Rey planting bombs in the cargo deck of their freighter. “Although I think that the idea to open new orphanages should help in this matter.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Ren murmured. “Hux, could you…”

“Massage your back?” he finished for him. Good, no more talking. Hux didn’t wait for the response. He put out his cigarette and slipped his hand under Kylo’s shirt. He put it just under his shoulder blade and felt Ren’s ribs lift abruptly with an intake of breath and fall shortly afterwards.

“No… could you hold me? Just for a while.”

For the first time in his life Hux was lost for words. Slowly he moved closer and embraced him. Ren smelled of fresh sweat and something that reminded Hux of either laundered cotton shirts or milk, but underneath he could also sense this indistinctive scent of hair and bare skin, similar to every person that he had ever held in his arms.

Although Kylo was now breathing calmly, half asleep, Hux still remembered his giant palms clenched into fists and that horrible sound when soldiers’ necks were being crushed by the grip of the Force. While Hux used to show a studied disregard for Ren’s special powers and most certainly wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he also had tried once to lift an empty glass from his desk with the sheer power of his mind, to no avail. Of course such silly ideas were excused by the late hour and the considerable amount of alcohol he had drunk that night. But truth be told, Hux had never understood the Force, and it was probably the only thing in the galaxy that he was afraid of.

At the same time he knew that it was not the Force sensitivity that made Ren truly dangerous.

When he closed his eyes a memory came back to him. He was maybe five years old then, and he was watching his father feed his dogs. In order to stir their ferocity, father would starve them for days. He was a cruel man, and the poor beasts howled and wailed at nights.

One of the hounds was chewing on a bone when small Armitage extended his hand to pet it. In a moment its jaws were clutched tightly around his wrist.  

The wound was later sewed up and bandaged, and his father said “Don’t touch a hungry dog. It may bite your hand off.”

Now, lying in the bed, he tried to keep some distance. He could feel Ren’s heart beating wildly in his chest and hear Father’s words ringing in his ears.

And, Hux thought, if it weren’t for this girl who seemed to preoccupy all of Ren’s attention, most likely he would go for his head instead.

Hux closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

[nny11writes]

Let’s Try This Again- Chapter 2

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They had dithered in the alley for a while, Anakin pacing with Ahsoka and Obi-Wan turning his head to watch their route. It seemed like a bad omen to him, that his future p-that she would appear in a dingy back alley covered in trash. That she would scare him at such a young age. How easily he found himself fond of her and wishing to keep her, and feeling terrible for that. Keep her. As if she was a slave instead of a child. Anakin wasn’t sure what else to feel about it, they belonged to each other now didn’t they? That’s what a force bond did right? While he quietly tried to wrestle with the implications of it all, his Master asked some rather important questions to no avail.

“Where are your parents?”

She’d answered by pointing at Obi-Wan and then patting Anakin’s back.

“Who do you live with?”

“You!”

“How did you get here?”

This was answered only with a shrug.

“How do you get food?”

“Trade.”

That had left Anakin laughing, imagining this little thing walking up to any of the stalls and unable to see above the top while demanding food.

“Oh, how do you do that?”

“Shiny!” She motioned around Anakin’s neck with one hand, her other arm still locked around him. Her steadfast refusal to let go of him during this whole affair was rather impressive.

It went like that for while. Her answers little more than fluff, and the few that weren’t were only half explained. Generally they were all worthless to their attempts to ascertain her current living conditions. It left Anakin with his gut turning. She was alone, an orphan or a runaway, or who knew what. Savvy enough to at least survive and to present herself a certain way. He’d seen something like this, people who would exploit themselves in any way possible to get money; the only way they often could make money. People who would roll in filth and excrement and then lay prone to beg. Those missing limbs putting them on full display for alms. But that was usually on outer rim worlds where people were desperate and the law was loose. This wasn’t Nal Hutta or Tatooine; this was a mid rimworld. Ahsoka would have been snapped up by some authority or do gooder by now if that was what she did. The longer the questioning went on the more upset Anakin found himself. Someone had abandoned this child, someone had left her on her own. That sat very, very wrong with him.

And by all accounts, it appeared that Obi-Wan was very insistent on figuring out where to drop her off. Looking to abandon her again.

The questions became too much, all the thoughts flying around his head until Anakin turned sharply to look at Obi-Wan. “We can’t leave her, I’m taking her with us no matter what you think.”

Obi-Wan’s calm facade splintered, their own bond momentarily flooding with hurt, before reshaping into a smooth wall again. “Anakin, I was never going to suggest leaving her behind.”

He could feel the guilt there, under his righteous anger, everything twisting up inside him and all of it just outside of his reach. Tears pricked at his eyes and Anakin knew he must be turning shades as he fought it off. He sniffled and found his voice raising with almost every word. “It’s not right, it’s not right what they did to her!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan moved quickly, halting his pacing with one hand on each arm. “Anakin, you need to calm yourself.”

Anakin squeezed the girl in his arms tighter as if to ward off his own growing anger. “No! This is, like, super Republic space! This shouldn’t have happened! Where were the police, where were the Jedi? We can’t leave her!”

The world shrunk down to the blood in his veins and the pounding in his head.

“Anakin, no one is saying we’ll leave her, she’s coming with us and-”

“Good, because this is stupid! If I ever found out who did this, I’d-”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s shout finally snapped him out of it. The hands on his arms almost vice like. His Master’s blue eyes piercing and shocked, and so very worried.

Anakin sniffed as hard as he could, he could feel snot on his upper lip and tears rolling slow and fat down his face. His head felt tight and his chest hurt as he trembled, coughing and gross. He dropped his head only to find Ahsoka staring up at him with wide scared eyes.

“I’m...I’m sorry Master, I don’t know what came over me.” He whispered the words watching the cautious way Ahsoka moved. She squeezed his neck and it occurred to him that she hadn’t completely let him go even though she’d been scared.

“We will discuss that later, and I do mean that we will discuss it and the repercussions it will have on the both of you with that bond. For now we will go to a medcenter to make sure Ahsoka is physically well and then we will return to our ship to head back to the Temple.” Obi-Wan spoke plainly, his voice harsh and brokering no argument. For all the steel in his voice, Obi-Wan gently pushed Anakin into walking again.

The disappointment was hard to bear, but the silence was worse.

Anakin trudged, wiping his face as best he could on his shoulder and feeling worse for knowing he’d dirtied his new clothes. He let his Master guide him, trying to make up for his outburst, for embarrassing his Master and disappointing him. Desperate to show he could behave and be good. He was just unsure what to do to prove it right now. They reached a med center long before Anakin had a chance to try and say anything.

And the silence was finally broken when a nurse tried to take Ahsoka out of his arms.

“No!” Ahsoka shouted, clinging to him with all her considerable strength.

The nurse soothed as best they could, “We just need to weigh you and get your height sweetling then you can be right back with your friend here.”

“No! No, no, no!” Ahsoka was howling in his ear.

The nurse looked at Anakin and he gulped before trying it himself. “Hey Ahsoka, I promise I’ll pick you right back up ok? Please?”

She jerked back to glare at him with a trembling bottom lip before she started to cry, wailing and jerking in his arms. “No! Ani no! Say no! No!”

He looked helplessly at the nurse and then at his Master. His own recent emotions already surfacing again like a giant bubble of gas rising painfully behind his ribs. Obi-Wan appeared almost frozen, apparently a crying toddler and a crying padawan was too much to handle.

“Ok,” the nurse said calmly, hands lifted placatingly, “it’s ok then. You can stay right there alright? No one is going to force you.”

Ahsoka continued to cry and chant her litany of no’s for the rest of the visit.

Anakin obediently stood on a scale and gave the nurse his weight with his kit. He hummed softly to Ahsoka and tilted her head as the nurse took her temperature. He patted her back and rocked her as the nurse asked him and Obi-Wan questions about her behavior.  Anything to try and glean some insight into her health. He kissed her head as they took blood, causing a whole new wave of screaming and crying. He walked and bounced and rocked and hummed until his throat hurt. Eventually he wondered if Ahsoka would simply cry forever; if she would never run out of steam. Anakin felt a bit like he understood as he miserably watched the way Obi-Wan was trying to subtly watch him. He kind of wished he could just join her. The two of them could cry and growl for the rest of forever. The results came in saying that she was physically fine. Her midichlorians were high for a child. Emotionally is where they guessed a problem might be.

Anakin had wanted to laugh, fighting off wave after wave of inappropriate laughter.

The walk back to the ship gave her time to finally relax, her screaming breaking off into hiccups and then into sniffling. Anakin was excited when he thought she was nuzzling him again, only to feel his Padawan braid being tugged. A slight turn of his head revealed that she had managed to get it in her mouth and was chewing it now. Rather aggressively chewing it. He cringed even as he sighed. Chewed and snotty tunic, puffy face and eyes, why not a slobbery braid too. Not long after that she finally dropped off into sleep.

Despite her relative calm, Anakin kept his mouth shut the rest of the way to the ship. Unwilling to tempt her or his Master’s tempers.                                     ��                                                                             Next->

[sserpente]

A/N: Request by @sallyp-53 and anon. I mixed them up a bit. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2004 Warnings: execution attempt, mentions of an abusive relationship, a bit of angst

There was no rejecting a mission. Not because it went beyond your skills and surely not because it went too personal. When they chose you to spy on the First Order to forward valuable information to the Resistance, you had not hesitated. Or maybe you had… what if you met… him?

Kylo Ren. It was a strange name, really. All you could remember was calling him Ben. It was Ben whenever you had had playflights, whenever you had kissed and whenever you had had sex. It had broken your heart when he had left to join the First Order and killed a bunch of young Jedi in the process. He had disappointed you. Not because he had turned to the Dark Side, of course. You had talked about that a lot, the ways of the Sith were no more harmful than the ways of the Grey or the Jedi… but because he had left you. You, the person he had claimed to love so much, had been left behind.

It was ironic, really. For as long as you had been on Starkiller, you’d never actually seen your teenage love in person, only heard them speak of him. Did he still look the same? Had he changed? You didn’t even know.

Well, right now, you couldn’t let your feelings get the better of you anyway. You still loved him, that was for sure, even if you had gotten yourself a new boyfriend by now. A weird fellow, vexed easily. Not once had he laid hand on you but then again… you liked him and you knew he needed somebody in his life. Just like Ben once had. Maybe you were cursed for attracting guys like that.

Sighing, you wandered through the halls of Starkiller Base. It was in the middle of the night, with barely anyone patrolling in the dimly lit corridors. As soon as you heard footsteps, you hid, and every now and then, you passed on the plans and all of the scheming the First Order did to the Resistance. Only today… something was different.

Somebody was getting closer and that somebody certainly was no stormtrooper. You swallowed thickly, looking frantically for a hiding place. When you found it, you held your breath. A cloaked figure walked past your concealed form. Robes? No… it was… a blanket. A dark grey blanket. Carefully, you looked up and… Ben. His black hair still framed his beautiful face as if he was a prince and the determined expression on his face… it scared you, sent ice cold shivers up and down your spine.

What was he doing? So late at night? Maybe he couldn’t sleep? Years ago, whenever his nightmares had stolen his sleep, you had both sneaked into the kitchens to eat ice cream or drink hot chocolate.

You almost scoffed in an amused manner. Surely, he wouldn’t be doing that now, though on the other hand, you wished he would. You wished he would remember you and maybe even miss you. It’s been so long… he probably couldn’t even recall your name.

After he had gone, you waited for at least thirty more seconds before you came out from your hiding place. Paralysed and shook, you attempted to regain your composure but you were shaking like leaf as you continued your way to get back to an inconspicuous and unused chamber used for broken droid parts, where you hid your datapad, always ready to send out new information.

It was then you felt a sharp pain in your neck, followed by nothing but pitch-black darkness that had you drop the ground, your legs not supporting you any longer. You fainted before a proper thought could form in your head.

When you woke up again, you were in a chamber. Metal walls surrounded the empty room, except for the odd plank bed you were lying on… tied up. You panicked instantly, struggling against the metal restraints but it was to no avail. Your ankles and wrists remained in place, not moving a bit.

You had been caught. And now… you were as good as dead. Shit!

“She’s awake,” It was a stormtrooper talking, you realised. Anonymous with his white armour and helmet, he stepped in front of you. You could swear he was grinning underneath that stupid mask of his. “Good morning, pretty girl. You know for a spy, you’re really attractive. And young. It’s a shame.” Another stormstrooper came in sight, chuckling at his colleague’s words.

“Now, surely you wonder how we caught you, huh? We found your little datapad last night. After we found you, that is. The Commander had us investigate a little, you see. Said there must be an intruder. He could sense it with the Force or some shit like that but hey—he was right.”

The Force. Of course, the fucking Force! Had he been able to sense your presence last night when he had walked past you? Or was it just you not being careful enough after he had gone? Shit, shit, shit!

The fear in your body was physically painful, it was like thousands of daggers were piercing your skin.

“You’re lucky. I’m in a good mood today. You’re with the Resistance, aren’t you?”

“No,” you lied. It earned you a smack across the face, your cheek stinging with the impact as your head was forced to the side. You could taste blood in your mouth. Fuck. “Yes, god damn it, what else would I be, you morrons…” You mumbled then.

The stormtroopers giggled again. It was a ridiculous sound, really.

“It’ll be quick. No hard feelings, just one shot right in the head and no suffering. Ain’t I generous?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him drawing his blaster. That’s it. It was gonna be over. You’ll be… dead. Wiped from existence, just like that! Don’t show them you’re scared, don’t, DON’T.

“What do you think you’re doing?” It was a mechanic was that spoke. Deep and throaty. A black cloaked figure entered the room, his form concealed by dark clothes. Leather gloves decorated his clenched fists. He truly looked terrifying. Intimidating. Who was that? A higher ranked stormtrooper?

“We are executing the spy, just like…”

“You are not going to execute her.” No? What then? Was that… creature… man… going to torture you first? Please, no, no, no! Ben… Ben, where are you? You thought. Help me. I don’t want to die yet.

“But—“

“Out.” His voice was threatening, making both of the stormtroopers in the room flinch before they legged it and hurried out of the interrogation chamber. Confusion spread on your face.

“What’s your name?” The stranger asked, circling you slowly. You hesitated. Was your name important? You were but a spy for the Resistance, dead or alive, your name wouldn’t really be useful to him.

“I’m… (Y/N). My name is (Y/N).” You whispered.

He took a sharp breath, his fists clenching even tighter.

“It’s you then. It’s really you.” What? Did he know you? He wasn’t… no. Your lips parted in shock as you swallowed, searching for any kind of emotion behind his black mask. But there was nothing. Nothing at all. Could it be?

“W-who are you?” You chocked out, unable to talk properly but instead of answering you, he simply reached up to remove his helmet. It fell to the ground with a loud clonk, making you flinch and then… you looked right into the face of Ben. Your Ben… it was him. This was Kylo Ren.

“Ben…”

“Ben is dead, (Y/N).” Your name from his lips… it sounded like music in your ears.

“No, no that’s not true and you know that.”

He simply ignored you. “What are you doing on Starkiller?”

You frowned. “I came on a mission. The Resistance sent me to spy on you. I’ve been forwarding information for a full week now.” It was like he’d never been gone. One look straight into his deep brown eyes and you would tell him everything he wanted. You had trusted him with your life back then. Now, however, you weren’t so sure anymore.

It was like he had read your thoughts. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then what are you gonna do? It’s short of a miracle you even remember me, Kylo.” You spat angrily. You could feel tears forming in your eyes. No, no crying. Stop it! Don’t let your feelings get the better of you!

“Of course I remember you. I never forgot you. My own spies have been informing me of your whereabouts and your well-being ever since I left.”

Your eyes widened at his words. “You… what?”

“Your new lover. Who is he? I was told he is abusive. Are you suffering?”

How… dared he? Intervening with your life after all these years? He didn’t love you anyway, he had shown that when he left without you and still… he was still… looking after you?

“I… he’s not abusive. Sometimes he… he… I mean when he’s angry, maybe his hand slipped a few times, that’s all.” The bruises on your body proved different but certainly, you were not going to tell him that.

“My spies have informed me of something else.” There was concern in his eyes. Real concern and it made you realise that Ben was indeed still in there, somewhere. Buried deep inside this dangerous man but… he was there. Did that change anything? No, a quiet voice in your head whispered. It didn’t. The heartache that very man in front of you had caused you… you couldn’t just forget it all.

“It’s none of your business,” you finally replied then, lifting your chin in defiance. Kylo only snorted.

“You don’t get to decide that.” Excuse me?

“I don’t? So… so what now, Kylo?”

“You’ll stay. Here. With me.”

If your heart had been malfunctioning before already, it had stopped completely by now. You blinked at him as if he had lost his mind. Well, maybe he had.

“I-I… I can’t stay! I work with the Resistance, I—“

“Not anymore. You work for me now. (Y/N), I won’t let you return to that abusive man. He hurts you.”

“You hurt me too when you left, you know.” Taken aback, he paused as if you had slapped him across the face.

“I had no other choice.”

“You had the choice to take me with you.” You stated, your expression blank. At least you hoped you would come across as emotionless. Ben was a skilled Force user though, he always had been. He probably noticed that you weren’t at all repelled by the idea of staying with him.

“You’ll stay with me now and in return, I’ll make sure you’re safe.” With that, he removed your restraints and watched you climbing off the plank bed, crossing your arms as you stood there in front of him. You wanted to seem confident and proud but all you could muster was a desperate whimper. There was nothing you could do about it. Next thing you knew, you had already flung your arms around him, hugging him so tightly he stumbled back.

“I missed you so fucking much,” you murmured into the black curtain of his hair, letting out a relieved sigh when he finally put his arms around you.

“I missed you, too. You’ll be staying in my quarters. Don’t come out unless I tell you to. Call me if you need anything. I’ll go and talk to the Supreme leader.”

Reluctantly, you pulled away, biting your lower lip as he led you to his private quarters. It wasn’t exactly a Happy End but maybe… maybe you finally had your Ben back. And you’d help him. Help him to get through whatever it was he needed to go through. Fuck the Resistance, as long as you could stay with him. It would take a long while until you could fully trust him again but for now, his promise to keep you safe was enough. For now, it had to be.

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 6

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"Good luck, my friend." Anakin whispered knowing Bail hadn't heard him. He turned back to Ahsoka as the other ship separated from his and leapt to hyperspace. 

"I may not know who I am," he started carefully. "But I want you there while I figure it out."

"Right beside you, Skyguy!" Ahsoka said without skipping a beat and threw herself around his neck. He held her close. 

"If we survive this, Snips, remind me to teach you caution." He said hoarsely.

"I’ve done nothing but be cautious since the end of the clone wars. That’s how I lived for years before joining the rebellion." She said with emotion. "It didn't really work for me. I'm a woman of action. Deal with it."

"How about you stop talking and show me some of that action?"

"You wish!" Ahsoka teased and then strolled to the controls. He let her fly them back to Mustafar, watching her through the eye sockets of his helmet. He'd forgotten how much he liked having her next to him. How used to her presence he'd been. For months after she’d left the Jedi order, after she left him, he'd been so lost. He hadn't wanted a padawan, he hadn't wanted to be responsible for somebody else's life, especially a child's. But the one he'd gotten tricked into having had been snippy, annoying, too eager, a know-it-all and a huge pain in the neck; and all of those things had eventually become what he loved the most about her. Not the traits themselves, but how they combined to create such an interesting and dynamic personality. A welcome change from the ho hum bore that most of the Jedi were. Ahsoka was definitely a handful, but at some point, quicker than he'd have thought possible, he'd stopped being bothered by it.

Why had he let her leave in the first place? If she'd stayed with him, maybe none of these things ever would have happened. But then again, she was right, until he knew who he was, it wouldn't matter who came and went. Walking away from everything and everyone she'd ever known, had forced her to figure out who she was; now he understood where the power that radiated from her started. And because she'd succeeded at doing that, nothing could truly taint her. Even when she'd been under the influence of the same drug he'd been being poisoned with, she was in total control. And that's also why she'd been able to resist his mind manipulation. She was so strong in her sense of self, that nobody could change her. Nobody could make her be something she was not. Oh how he envied her. Would he ever know what that was like?

 ---

 The medical droid shuffled out to meet them when they arrived back at Anakin's fortress. "Scanning," it said. "I am happy to report that you did not injure yourself running off." It directed at Ahsoka. "But you should follow my earlier recommendation of another night in the bacta tank so you'll be back to one hundred percent efficiency." 

"Thank you, doc." She replied. "I will follow your advice." 

"Very good. Is there anything else I can do to assist you? If not, I will shut down and recharge."

"Yes," Ahsoka replied before Anakin could say no. "Can you find a way for him to breathe without this suit?" She said pointing at Anakin.

"That's not necessary..." Anakin started.

"Scanning,"

"No you don't need to..."

"Done," the droid interrupted again. "While you were out I took an inventory of your supplies. I am pleased to report that I can upgrade your breathing apparatus and make the suit obsolete. When the procedure is finished, your lungs will function normally. I can also repair the damage to your trachea, and update your artificial limbs to make them less bulky and more natural. Shall I begin?"

Anakin stared at the droid, speechless. "Can you really do that?" He asked finally. "With stuff just lying around?"

"Yes," the droid replied, "I have been updated with the most recent medical procedures and research. My knowledge far surpasses the technology in the suit you wear. Senator Organa supplied a few vital pieces in the supply crates he brought, but everything else was already available here. I can guarantee it will be a painless experience."

 ---

 "Anakin," Ahsoka said, taking his arm, "do this, please." He looked at her through his mask. Did he dare hope he could be free from this torture suit at last? He thought back to the first time he was put into it. It had been a traumatizing experience. The droids that had worked on him had kept him awake, and gave him nothing to numb the pain. It was part of Sidious's plan to build his hatred and anger by causing him such immeasurable pain. He shuddered internally. He'd been so blind to the promises of the dark side, he'd never allowed himself to think about what he'd endured to get here. Only to find out that the person he'd put all his trust in, was the one responsible for so much of his pain. He'd pretended to be his friend, only to mold him into his most puppet. And because Anakin had been so used to being a slave, he'd not even noticed. As Ahsoka had said at the end of their duel, it was time for him to free himself.

He couldn't get his life back. There wasn't much left of it. But he could choose who he was now and who he would be. She'd been right about that too. 

"Let's get you in the bacta tank first, then I'll let the doc work on me." He said at last.

 ---

 She let him unzip the back of her dress, as her skin was revealed, he paused. He looked at it longingly knowing he'd never get to feel the softness of a woman's skin with his fingers anymore. He remembered Padmé and that day by the lake on Naboo all those years ago. The way she had felt compared to his rough hands. She had been the only soft thing he'd ever known in his hard life. It was hard to breathe, remembering that after so many things had changed. Padmé had been a light in the overwhelming darkness that lived inside him. Something so grand and so wonderful that he could only covet it. 

To him, Padmé truly had been an angel. Her appearance in his life had been a beacon of hope. She'd been a symbol of his freedom. She'd represented everything he'd never been allowed to have, and if he could win her over... simply by possessing her, he could possess everything he'd been denied. But Jedi weren't allowed possessions or attachments. So before he'd even had a chance to become a Jedi, he'd already failed as one. She had been a symbol of his freedom... and yet... he'd wanted nothing more than to cage her.

"Anakin?" Ahsoka's voice interrupted his reverie. He loved Ahsoka, he really did, but letting go of Padmé was going to be harder than he thought. She turned in his arms and looked up at him, the silky fabric of her dress now loose around her shoulders. She couldn't see his face, but he knew she could sense his feelings. It wasn't that Ahsoka wasn't soft, he'd just never thought of her that way. When she'd touched him so tenderly, it had been the first time in years he'd felt someone’s touch; it had felt so good, he'd wanted to hold onto it forever. Did he dare open up, knowing he could hurt her?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's been so long... I'm not sure I remember how to be human..." he gulped. It was weird saying the words out loud. He'd loved machines because they couldn't hurt him. And in many ways, he'd become one. 

She took off his helmet and looked into his eyes like she was searching his soul. "You will." She said softly. It was his turn to lean into the touch of her hand as it caressed his face. "I'll help you." Oh, of that, he was sure. If Ahsoka made a promise, she kept it. She hadn't failed him yet.

"Don't worry," she whispered, "I'll keep you safe." She kissed him on the head, and when he looked up at her, again on the lips. 

She stepped back from him and let the dress fall around her ankles exposing her naked body. She was slim and fit and definitely not a child anymore. He'd seen her body before; there wasn't much privacy in a war zone. Not that he'd really given it much thought. You didn't have the luxury to be modest when you're fighting for your life. When you have business to attend to, you do it, and then you get back in the fight. It didn't matter who was around. Though it must have been hard for her to get used to when she was around men most of the time. She'd never really been shy about showing skin, at least on the upper half, but he'd always figured it was a Togruta thing. They were predators, it made sense to have tight fitting clothes that allowed the maximum amount of movement and flexibility. They were also fast, so excess fabric would only slow them down. Early on, she'd worn a sash that hung from her belt, that must have had some kind of meaning; along with the akul teeth that she'd fashioned into a headdress for her Jedi braid, or in her case beads, since she didn't have hair. But he'd never really asked what any of it meant. Though war created deep bonds from the shared experiences, you didn't really have the opportunity to get to know the people you fought with. You knew important things, of course, like whose side they're on, and what they'll do in a fight, but you never get to know what's important to them when they're not slicing through things. And Anakin realized, he really didn't know much about her at all. He hoped they'd have time to change that.

She changed into the pajamas Bail had left to prepare to get in the tank, but then she bit her lip. "I don't want to sleep while he operates on you. What if he needs help? What if something happens?"

"Underneath this suit, you'll find a mutilated body. Half human, half machine. It's a very unpleasant thing to behold. Are you sure you'll be able to stomach it?"

"Pain is a vile mistress; she leaves her scars on all of us. Some are in our heads, some are in our souls, and some are on our bodies. But she cannot make anyone less worthy of being loved." Her voice was low. She hadn't exactly answered the question he'd asked, but somehow she'd managed to answer the one he needed to know; if she would still love him when she found out what was left of him.

 ---

 The medical droid directed Anakin to lie down on the table he'd prepped for the surgery. He was going on about all the different things he'll have to do in order to free him from the suit. He'd hooked up life support monitors and laid out all the tools and pieces he would need. And then he put an oxygen mask with anesthesia over Anakin's head.

Ahsoka stood nervously to the side as she watched his eyes close. She'd been careful not to give into her fears about the procedure. She knew she'd still love him no matter what he looked like, but she could not have prepared herself for what she'd see as the doctor slowly and deliberately began to remove the pieces of his suit. Had Sidious done this too him? How had he lost the rest of his limbs? His incredibly pale skin had bumps and scars running in all directions, indicating terrible burns like he'd been set on fire. She couldn't even begin to imagine the extent of internal damage such a trauma could induce.

She'd understood that he could not breathe well without the suit, as it was, he spent more time with the helmet off than he should. But it wasn't until the droid explained that the suit was sealed to prevent the collapse of his lungs that she fully understood the state he was in. The droid worked methodically on each part one at a time. It inserted a kind of stabilizing device onto his lungs that would work with the body's normal ability to breathe. He had to prop open his trachea in a few places, and was able to minimally restore his vocal chords. A pacemaker device was hooked to his heart. Once the doctor had restored normal functionality to his vital organs, he went to work on his sensory organs. Using a specialized laser treatment, he was able to fix the damage to his retinas and ear drums. 

Hours slid by as Ahsoka watched the droid put a human back together. It was hard to watch, but at the same time, she couldn't look away. Some parts the droid said, were easier just to upgrade rather than replace, but assured her, that when he was finished, Anakin would no longer need external sources to survive. Built into each device the droid inserted, he claimed had fail safes. Electrical pulses couldn't disrupt their ability to function and the battery life, he assured her, would outlast his life expectancy. The process got considerably slower when it came to designing more efficient prosthetic limbs because the droid had to keep stimulating certain nerves and encouraging the body to accept the new appendage. 

 ---

 At some point during the procedure, Ahsoka dozed off in the chair in the corner. For the first time in years, she wasn't able to stop herself from dreaming. 

Above her flew a convoree, it was a familiar sight. It was the same one that seemed to follow her around. She didn't know what it meant, but it was always there. She could feel the turu-grass beneath her, and hear the familiar sounds of the winds across the plains. The birds calling out to each other, small rodents snaking their way around trying to hide from the predators in the sky. Shili was a peaceful place, most of the time. Except for when the akul were on a rampage. They were incredibly dangerous creatures, the only thing on the planet higher on the food chain than the Togruta. They traveled in large packs and could raze entire villages within minutes. Like the nexu, they were large with lots of sharp teeth. 

She froze as she felt the ground shake beneath her. Her heart started racing and she was on her feet in no time. Above the tall grasses she caught a glimpse of the orange striped skin of the akul. She reached for her lightsabers, but they weren't there. She searched the ground where she'd been laying, but came up empty. The akul was within range, it had surely smelled her by now. She had no choice but to run. She raced to the edge of the plains, knowing that she couldn't run to the village for help. If she did, she'd put them all in danger. She ran as fast as she could but she could feel them gaining on her. The trees were too far away, she'd never make it. She had to fight, but where were her lightsabers? She tried to steady her breathing. The akul could not only outrun its prey, it could also outlast them. If she wanted a fighting chance, she had to pace herself. She'd beat one before, she could do it again. After all, she was a Jedi now.

She raced into an open patch of grass, only to skid to a halt. Somehow they'd managed to surround her. How had she not realized they'd gotten in front of her? She spun slowly, looking for weakness in their ranks, but she saw none. As one akul stepped towards her, her vision started getting dark around the edges. They began to morph into cloaked figures, black as the night. One lunged at her, shooting lightning from its fingertips but she was rooted in place. Out of nowhere, the convoree she'd been watching earlier flew in between her and the cloaked creature, absorbing the stream of lightning. It screeched in pain but continued to swoop in again and again, stopping the cloaked figures from hitting her with the spells. Suddenly one of the figures picked up a spear and lofted it at the bird, skewering it. The convoree dropped from the sky and landed hard nearby by her. She cried out in anguish and forgetting the immediate danger, she rushed to where it fell. There lie an ethereal looking woman in a white gown and flowing green hair. The Daughter from Mortis! 

"We are one," she told Ahsoka, with failing strength. "You mustn't fall, or the light dies."

"What do you mean?" Ahsoka begged her as she cradled the woman in her arms.

"He's coming..." with that the Daughter went limp. 

Ahsoka spun around in time to watch the akul/creatures combine into one more powerful creature, towering over her. It laughed maliciously.

 "You think you saved him? You're wrong! You only weakened him! He cannot beat me now! And neither can you!" The cloaked figure let out a horrendous screech and then pulled out two red lightsabers and thrust at her with such force, Ahsoka could barely react. But she had reacted. She was suddenly older and there in her hands were now her white lightsabers, as she pushed back at the figure with all her might. "You're weak," it taunted her. "Give in, give in to the darkness." Ahsoka went to strike only to get electrocuted by purple lightning. She could hear herself screaming.

 ---

 "Anakin!" Ahsoka yelled, jumping up from the chair. Heart racing, she was breathing hard. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. Standing above her was a tall, thin man. He had mechanical arms and legs, but a gentle, however now concerned, smile. He was hardly recognizable. Was this the same person that had lived in that awful suit? It didn't matter now, "Sidious," she shivered. "He's coming! He's here!" 

"Calm down, Ahsoka, it's okay, it's alright." She looked up at him wide-eyed.

"You don't understand! That wasn't just a nightmare, he's here! He's going to kill us both!"

He pulled her into his arms. "Breathe," he said and kissed her forehead. She struggled for a minute and then relaxed. Once she stopped trying to fight him, he let go. He picked up her boots, belt and armor and as she put them on, he handed back her lightsabers. Then he picked up his own. "We knew this was coming. But I have a few tricks up my sleeve." He said rolling his shoulders. "Follow me."

Next chapter ->

[jeswii]

Layers of Deception Part 2

Character: Mitaly Fandom: SWTOR

No one is asking for more but I’m having fun

The ship was rather quiet upon my return, Kaliyo had gone to the cantina, Vector was meditating, SCORPIO never really talks to anyone, and Ensign was with Lokin treating each other’s injuries. I was alone in my room. The walls were decorated with some art and a few posters of bands I liked, nothing personal though. Due to my work my life is hidden from everyone, even myself at times. I lie down to nap when my personal com goes off.

Incoming Transmition: Lana Beniko

“I would like to speak with you in private, could you meet me in the cantina, preferably soon?” She asks

Its still strange to be asked instead of ordered “I��ll be there” I reply

I sit and pour a drink, I need one after today. Anyone in my line of work who says they don’t drink is clearly lying, and I am no acception. Lana walks into the cantina clearly not able to hide the fact that she’s looking for someone. I aproach her before she draws too much attention. 

 “You came, good. I’m aware I have been somewhat quiet following your success on Tython. Do not mistake my reticence for apathy” she says.

Being thanked is another thing I have yet to get used to, especially by Sith. I invite her to sit and pour her a drink.

“The truth is I have a great deal to say. Now that we are alone we can have some real dialog” she sits but doesn’t touch the drink, odd. 

“Are you saying you don’t trust Darth Arkous?” I knew something was strange I just wasn’t expecting help  

“Darth Arkous wasn’t entirely forthcoming about his reasons for invading the temple on Tython - not even to me. He was after a very specific item, an artifact” She avoided my question 

“What sort of artifact? The more I know the better I can understand his motives” and the better I could work if you cause problems 

“I wish I could say. Whatever it was, Darth Arkous was enraged with Lord Goh until he found it. And there’s more” she looks down “I know believe the Republic’s attack on Korriban wasn’t a retaliation. It was meant to coincide with our own attack” 

Now where have I heard something like this, someone manipulating both sides to counteract each other. “Attacking Korriban while we still held Tython wasn’t logical and gained them little” 

“Persisly, but a wider context may exist to explain recent events. There’s something in the force that I’ve never felt before, it exists everywhere and nowhere at once. Writhing, growing” she gets up and looks away, this is deeply concerning her “I think I send this ‘growth’ because I am associated with it. But no matter, I feel the Empire is in terrible danger. Will you help me, I can not handle this alone?” Lana really is a strange one, she’s admitted she can’t do it. 

“How do I know you aren’t trying to use me to make some kind of power play?”  

“Your caution is understandable but clearly you can see something unusual is transpiring. I wish I had more evidence to support my claims against Darth Arkous” Either she’s a great liar or telling the truth, this is worth investigating. 

“I’ll help, for now. If I learn you are trying to pull one over me you’ll regret it” 

“I understand. I’ll keep my ear to the ground to try to find answers and suggest you do the same” She then just get ups and leaves 

I have 2 more drinks when I notice Kaliyo eyeing me from across the bar, clearly drunk, she walks over and sits across from me. 

“So we got a new boss to lie to?” She says in a slurred, hushed voice 

“I guess we do” I reply pouring her a glass. 

“So one thing I have been wanting to ask, how long you plan on keeping this till you join a new side?” She asks trying to frustrate me 

I sigh “I know what you’re doing, I have my reasons to do what I do. This can’t end without inside help” 

“Hey, I know that but what if you just had some fun" I smile, her kind of fun while she’s drunk is always entertaining. 

“You have anything in mind?“ 

She motions over to two guys four tables over, both clearly drunk past what they should be for a place like this “How ‘bout them?“ 

Before I even answer she’s over at their table smooth talking them. They were new recruits to the army from Dromund Kaas but unlike some one was amazed Kaliyo instead of repaulled and the other wanted to see what my hair looked like ‘free' 

 That night wasn’t a close to a memorable one. It wasn’t bad, just wasn’t amazing either, it was just fun. That all nights like these ever were, ‘entertainment’. Luckily for me it takes far more than normal to get me wasted so there was no hangover the next morning. I wake up in a hotel room on Dromund Kaas and can hear one of the men puking in the shared restroom. I struggle to get on all my gear and tie my hair back in the bun and braid its normally in before anyone sees. Last night I didn’t get the chance to change into something besides my traditional black gear, still covered in red sand and bits of blood. Outside the room is the other person passed out in the hallway with their arm wrapped around Kaliyo. I tap her with my foot to wake her up and luckily she’s half dressed, this time. 

“Uhh, do i have to?” She grunts

“Yes Kaliyo, get up. We have to get back to the ship before someone notices” I preferred hiding in the shadows when on Dromund Kaas, there’s too many eyes.

“Can we not go one day without…” She trails off

I grab her arms and try to drag her up when i notice something wrong “Kaliyo you need to get up, now.”

“What’s with the rush, agent” She sits up as her face fills with distress “Is that…”

Darth Nox, how did she end up here and where was the other man? I’ve worked with her a few times before, when she was apprentice to Zash, and on Corallia but haven’t heard much from her since she ascended to the Dark Council. How the hell did she end up in Kaliyo’s arms? I never backed out last night but last I checked Kaliyo and her friend had gone out for more alcohol. And isn’t she married? 

She springs up and grabs out her lightsaber faster than I could blink "Agent? How wasted was I?” She puts her lightsaber away. Good to know I’m somewhat trusted by another Dark Council member. 

“I’m not sure, you weren’t here when I fell asleep” 

“Lets not tell Andronikos” She runs into the room across the hall, puts on her formal robes and helmet “I’m late for a meeting, if word about this gets out you’re both dead” then she runs over to the elevator and leaves 

“Well that was an adventure” Kaliyo laughs 

“How did that even happen?” Last I checked sleeping with Dark Council members is something most avoid 

Kaliyo walks into the room Darth Nox got her clothes from and but on her boots and gloves “well soldier boy and I went to get more to drink when on my way back man gets cold feet. Now I’m in the hotel lobby with some alcohol when Darth Nox strolls in, slightly tipsy, and asks for the best room available. Now I saw this as a chance to not let his cold feet ruin my night and took it.”

I’m trying hard and failing at not laughing “Since when were you even into girls?” Kaliyo had made it clear to me that she wasn’t one night when we were board

She chuckles “Remember Anspi’?” 

The girl she tried to sell on Nar Shaddaa “No way” I let out the laugh I’ve been holding in 

“Look I was drunk and she was cute, end of story” Kaliyo huffs

A few days later Lana’s droid contacts me on the fleet. 

"A7-M1 = honored to meet returning legend. You = prepare for incoming transmission” 

Lana appears as a hologram “It’s great to see you again Commander” I hated that tittle from Marr “I wish I could say this was a social call. I told you after the events on Tython and Korriban that I had particular concern. I was right, The Empire is in serious danger” when isn’t it “I can’t tell you more over holo. Come to the planet Manaan at the nearest opportunity and all will be explained” 

The shuttle ride to Manaan was rather uneventful, Lokin went on a tangent about needing to take precautions when meeting with a Sith in private. It appears he heard about Kaliyo's small affair with Darth Nox. I have Lokin wait outside the room just in case. 

"Welcome, so good to see you again" Lana puts away a datapad and stands up. Its strange to have a Sith who's happy to see me "As implied in our last communication, Darth Arkous is at the center of a grand conspiracy. He had the Jedi Temple raided to find Rakata technology that could harm the empire. Even now he plots against us." 

"Grand conspiracies make my job much harder" even though I have my own plot to end this war, other's ideas let a lot of innocent people die 

"Yes, I must say I'm a bit out of my league on this one. I've managed to follow Arkous to a secure laboratory here on Manaan where he's working with a Selkath geneticists on... something. I've also learned the Colonel in charge of the attack on Korriban also arranged passage to this lab" Lana says 

"He maybe after Arkous, Dark Council members make large targets" I doubt it but it's become a habit to not rule out even the most unlikely possibilities 

"We won't know more till we get into the lab. Its heavily fortified, you'll have to disable their defenses and get passed well armed Selkath guards" She hands me a layout if the facility 

"You're not coming?" I ask

"I'd intended to confront Arkous my self but I sense a presence here - a potential ally. I'll stay in touch and inform you on the progress of my search. May the Force be at your service" Lana replies and walks away

End of Chapter 2

[burndownthesun]

Comic Con 2017: The First Day

I do not remember a great deal of the travelling involved, beyond saying that airports are boring and I was awake for 24-25 hours. I do not enjoy planes, as some of you well know. I fear them deeply. Rather, I fear take-off and landing, but take-off the most. My doctor now knows this too and her advice was diazepam.

Turns out diazepam is magic as rather than a full blown panic, take-off caused only a mild worry. Bonus. That, and the foul garbage they call coffee on an aeroplane. These are my memories. I was swiftly abed upon landing and getting to the hotel.

So, the first day: Stepping out of the hotel door into the sunshine I was struck with a single thought, one that was tinged with a little disappointment as I wouldn’t be able to engage in the traditional wandering around, that thought was ‘Fuck walking anywhere, oh my god.’ I am reliably informed that it was around 27 degrees celsius and the humidity was about 85%. Eighty. Five. With breathing being a chore I waited for the shuttle bus service to take me to the convention centre. It was mercifully air-conditioned.

Upon arrival I set off towards the centre proper, over a bridge that only mildly triggered my acrophobia. I was struck with a banner for Fox’s new show in the X-Men universe: (Seems I can’t add images when typing this up on my phone. I will add that as soon as I can.) It seems interesting but I wish they would give mutants back to Marvel. Ah well.

I came then upon a line. This I was well forewarned about. Lines, they say, are naturally drawn to Comic Con. I walked down the line. Then I walked further down the line. Then I walked further down the line. Eventually I came to the end of the building. It is a very large building. This was not the end of the line. No. It snaked around the side and vanished under an archway that looked to be the staff entrance to the building. The end of the line was here so I joined.

Not too bad, this line. It moved fairly rapidly, up until it stopped doing that and we were simply stood. At this point the sun was starting to get angry at us. There were moments when it was almost too much to bear. We crept forward at snails pace, ever hoping to reach the next spot of shade. Begging the line to move just three or four more steps to allow you under the cover and the people behind you be damned. It was every nerd for themselves at that point. What boggled the mind at this point were the cosplayers. They of crafty hands (or hefty wallets) dedicated to portraying a favourite character with their own attire. There was fantasy warriors in furs and leather. There were mascots in full suit. There were plastic-armoured space-marines and the like. All suffering no doubt from heat stroke. I do not know if they are heroic or just stupid. Probably both, as is the way of things.

Eventually an hour passed and the line led me inside. Air-conditioning is a marvelous thing. I stopped sweating finally and after grabbing my badge (very quickly once through the doors) I went in search of water, paying $4 for a bottle and not even caring a jot. (I cared immensely what a rip-off).

Comic-Con then, set about the two floors of the convention centre (and other places besides). Upstairs you will find the meeting rooms and halls set aside for panels and whatnot, mostly filled today with interesting sounding talks by interesting sounding people. Hall H is infamous. It is GARGANTUAN at 1600 seats, it is on the ground floor and it is notoriously difficult to get into for the more popular panels. Tomorrow is a Game of Thrones panel and there are probably people waiting in line NOW to get in for that. The Stranger Things panel is in there on Saturday, we shall see if I brave it. I wandered around a few laps of this upper floor reading schedules on doors before heading downstairs and into the main convention hall.

This room is the size of an aircraft carrier. Possibly two. It is unbelievably enormous and it was full. What strikes you as you enter is sound. People and sound and THINGS. Just stuff, everywhere. End to end this room is crammed with stalls, people selling comics, t-shirts, pins, posters, trading cards for obscure early 90’s cartoons, the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack for $40 and a lanyard for $10. As well as this large entertainment companies have stores to ply their newest show or whatever. There was a tantalising red curtain with the words Twin Peaks above it, but too many people around to really find out what it was. Wall to wall this room is filled with these stalls, and in literally all available space between are people. People. Everywhere, People. Those in regular clothing, some who have dressed up. Some who had dressed down, as it were; cosplaying a character who doesn’t wear much is genius in this climate (and if you’re a bit of an exhibitionist, I suppose).

It is a wonder unto itself, this vast collection of people. This ocean of humanity waving to and fro between stands, chatting and looking at all the STUFF. I was not chatting; I have travelled alone again (see my Vancouver posts from several years ago) so today was spent mostly people watching and looking at the STUFF. Although one fellow in the line was chatty, and almost immediately wrongly identified me as Australian. This, I am told, is fairly common for those of us from England’s North. Strange, as our accents are not even that similar. Also you’d think Game of Thrones fans would have learned to recognise a Yorkshire accent by now (even if they do think it’s just Northern Westeros.)

I wandered out eventually, having been overwhelmed quite enough for the time being, onto a terrace overlooking the harbour. There a group of people dressed as knights (including some in half-plate. Actual metal armour.) hit each other with sticks in lieu of real swords for the delight of a woman who they all called the queen. This seemed strange but fun. I overheard a woman explain this to someone nearby as a kind of ancient western martial art training thing. With LARPing royalty mixed in I suppose. If this happens in England I don’t know of it but I assume it does, it is our history they’re recreating after all. I returned inside.

After another quick dip into the grand hall of STUFF I exited another door and out into the streets in search of food. The streets were an insane place too. People everywhere, costumes galore. Every restaurant and cafe within a certain distance of the centre had a mile-long queue and an hour long waiting time once you were at the front. I eventually returned to an area beside where the shuttle dropped us that morning which housed a couple of food trucks amid myriad distractions including a full-size snow speeder from Star Wars(!) and grabbed something and fries. Some meat or other.

It was time to return to hotel. I had been about for hours and my feet were starting to ache. I still cannot lift my shoulder properly thanks to the efforts of my backpack. I shall be emptying that almost entirely tomorrow to avoid a repeat performance.

A strange and exciting day then, filled with colour and vibrancy I saw a great many things; I saw Team Skull from Pokemon getting nachos. I saw a child decimating all comers at Marvel vs Capcom Infinite by picking Rocket and Hulk and just spamming the Reality Stone. I saw Spiderman buying Magic: The Gathering cards. I saw a thousand Harley Quinns, several Starfires (for an unknown reason, are the Titans popular again?), ten thousand Daenerys Targaryens (no Starks though. Perhaps I should buy leather armour and furs. I’ve already got the accent.), and SO. MANY. JEDI. (perhaps I should have brought my Jedi robes?)

I think I have become slightly sunburnt on my arms. My face has been unaffected, mercifully.

It is time to think about food and the eating thereof once again.

All in all a successful day one, I’d say. To day two!