#Lightsaber Profile

[thedroidsyouarelookingfor]

66 hours played, 90% of PlayStation trophies earned

I’m calling it there for now and getting ready to shift into Zelda mode. But my queue is stacked!

And I updated my profile picture. Baby is all grown up!

[sabersourcing]

Hurrikaine Lightsaber Crystal | Kyber Crystal Profile

Hurrikaine Lightsaber Crystal | Kyber Crystal Profile

The Hurrikaine Lightsaber Crystal is a rare kyber crystal type producing a violet lightsaber blade. As a Jedi Padawan, Mace Windu undertakes a solo mission to the Wild Space planet Hurikane. He seeks a lightsaber crystal to construct his lightsaber, but his mission initially does not go as planned. EXPLORE SABER SELLERS affiliate linksThis article contains affiliate links. If you purchase an…

[symeona]

Image description: it's an illustration of Aayla Secura and Quinlan Vos from Star Wars. They're both older. Quinlan stands with his back to Aayla, holding his green lightsaber low, he's ready to fight. He's looking off to the side. Aayla is standing behind him, she's in profile. She has a frown and tears in her eyes, she's also holding her lightsaber in front of her face in a meditative/defensive pose. End of description.

Edit: y'all never saw anything shhhhh

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Light the Fire

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x F!Reader

As requested by anonymous: Hi love! I am obsessed with your Qimir fics 💕 the way you write him is just so good! May I request something with him where he gets jealous seeing reader interact with someone else and it leads to a confession ??? Maybe like a friends to lovers ? Thank you so much!

A/N: if you're wondering how im coping with the acolyte news, im in denial and pretending its not real. :D

Qimir Masterlist

(this is how i imagine Qimir to look when he's jealous)

Qimir watched you with careful eyes across the cantina. You were speaking with your bounty. You requested the aid of your old friend just in case. This bounty was high profile and worth a lot of credits. Although you are very capable, you wanted to have some back up just in case. Hence why Qimir was keeping an eye out from across the bar.

He couldn't help the stirring in his stomach as he watches you pretend to be interested in your mark. How you laugh, how you touch him, how you press your body against his. Qimir knows it's not real, he knows you're only doing it to get close to your mark, but damn did it not stop him from feeling jealous.

The mark excuses himself to go to the refresher and you lock eyes with Qimir across the way.

You whisper into the hidden comm in your dress, "When he comes back, I'm taking him to the room. You go first. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Qimir nods his head and gulps the rest of his drink down. Setting some credits onto the counter and leaves the bar area and head upstairs to the rooms offered to bar patrons.

With the extra keycard you got him, Qimir enters the room and hides in the shadows waiting for your arrival.

_________________

Your mark comes back from the refresher and sighs, "Well, ready, baby?"

You give the older man a sultry smile, "You tell me," you trace your finger along the color of his shirt. He gives you a drunken grin that makes your skin crawl, "Lead the way, sweetheart," he gives you a pat on the ass and you giggle, despite wanting to punch the guy in the throat.

You slip your hand into his clammy one and guide him away from the bar and up the stairs towards the rooms. With your keycard, you door to your room slides open. You continue to pull your mark into the room and towards the bed.

You push him onto the bed and straddle his lap. He gets giddy, his disgusting hands running up your thighs to grip your ass.

You give a fake moan, grinding against the man and the act excites him.

You suddenly hear the buzz of a lightsaber and the room illuminating in a red hue. Your mark looks over your shoulder, eyes wide and full of fear.

"Wha-What is this?! What's going on?!"

You roll your eyes and punching the guy in the throat, causing him to gasp for hair. You immediately climb off him and turn to Qimir. He's donning his cortosis helmet, one hand gripping his saber, while the other is clenched in a tight fist.

"I didn't give the signal."

"Didn't need to. I could tell you were uncomfortable," he replies, his voice hidden by the modulator.

Your mark sits up and crawls back towards the head of the bed, "Wait, I have a credits! I'll give you everything I have, just don't kill me!"

You pull out the hidden syringe needle you kept in your thigh holster, "See, that's the thing, Marek. Those credits that you have, they don't belong to you. You stole them and Darius Nox wants them back, as well as to punish you for your insolence."

You also take out the puck you were given, the holo displaying Marek's face.

The older man gulped, "N-Nox sent you."

You pocket the puck and nod, "Yup. And I'm going to bring you to him."

You take a step towards him and he immediately scrambles off the bed and towards the door.

Qimir shoots his hand out, using the force to stop Marek in his place. You shake your head, "They never learn."

You go over to Marek's frozen figure. His eyes are wide. He's helpless and, boy, do you love that look of helplessness and fear in your targets.

You immediately punch Marek in the gut and give him an upper cut punch to his chin. He lets out groans of pain and you smile, "You disgust me." You then jab the syringe into his neck, the poison entering his system. You watch as he tries to fight it, but eventually his eyes flutter close and his head drops to his chest.

_____________________

Qimir isn't careful at all when he helps you bring Marek to your ship. He practically throws him in the little cell that you have for your marks. After ensuring that he's well locked up, you excuse yourself, "I need to wash all that guy's sweat off me. So fucking handsy, that one," you shudder as you pass Qimir, missing his clenched jaw and pissed off look on his face.

Fifteen minutes later, you're scrubbed clean and wearing more comfortable clothing.

You go to the cockpit to see Qimir sitting in the co-pilot's spot, staring out into hyperspace.

"What's with the face?" you ask as you kick your feet up onto the console.

"I really want to kill him."

"Well you can't or else I won't get the full payment. Anyway, why do you want to kill him?"

He doesn't look at you as he speaks, "I didn't like the way he was touching you or how he looked at you when you were talking to him. You thoroughly convinced him that he stood a chance, with your smiling and touching." His hands roll into tight fists as he recalls your actions and behavior tonight, "I know it was all an act, that you didn't mean any of it...but at some point, I started wishing I was Marek. Then I wanted to rip the guy's head off."

You lean in closer to him, a smirk on your face, "Jealous?"

He side eyes you, clenches his jaw and murmurs, "No."

"Sounds like you are."

"I am not."

You stand from your seat and go over to Qimir's. You plop yourself right onto his lap, causing him to widen his eyes in surprise, "Just admit it. You were jealous," you hook your arms around his neck, face an inch away from his

He glances down at your lips then back at your eyes, "What do I get if I admit it?" he murmurs.

"Anything you want."

"Fine. I was jealous."

You grin widely, "Nice to know. Now, what do you want?"

His hands go to your waist and he holds you still, "For you to tell me how you feel about me."

"I feel safe when I'm with you. I feel free, accepted. I feel...loved."

Qimir leans closer, his forehead resting against yours, "I do love you. Sometimes I wish I didn't, especially when you pull the shit you did tonight. I sometimes wish you didn't light a fire inside me every time I'm with you."

"Qimir?"

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

And without a second thought, he does.

That's when you really feel the emotions within him, the passion and desire he holds for you. It's a flame now growing into a roaring fire. All because of you.

And you feel the same. Two flames fanned, growing bigger, brighter, and stronger. Together.

[saphronethaleph]

Did you pack your robe yourself?

“The events on Onderon were, of course, very much not as we would desire,” Palpatine said, with a slight frown of distaste. “While they ultimately worked out, the consequences could be significant.”

“Of course, Chancellor,” replied the Vice-Chair, Mas Amedda. “Is there anything we will need to do?”

Palpatine barely glanced at the Coruscant Guard clone troopers around the entrance to the executive section of the Senate building. “Perhaps,” he said. “We should especially watch out for the risks posed by large crime syndicates. Such an event could result in serious strain on the Jedi.”

With possible witnesses, there were limits to the sort of thing he would say… but with Mas Amedda, a long-time political ally who knew he was more than he appeared, he could insinuate. And he was quite sure Mas would follow the direction of his thoughts.

“That would be unfortunate,” Mas noted. “Especially if the problems were associated with Mandalore. Obi-Wan Kenobi is closely tied to the planet’s leadership, and it would be inevitable that he’d be sent – and the loss of Master Kenobi would be a major blow to the Jedi.”

Palpatine was about to reply, but as they passed through the doorway something beeped urgently.

“What was that?” he asked.

One of the Coruscant Guard troopers was watching a screen, and he signalled to the rest of the squad. They all pointed their weapons, and the sergeant put a hand to his helmet.

“What is going on?” Palpatine asked. “Explain yourselves! I am the Supreme Chancellor!”

“Routine check, your excellency,” the sergeant said. “After the hostage crisis and intelligence of a possible kidnapping attempt, we set up scanners on the doorways of your chambers. Nobody gets in without a weapon scan.”

“That does not explain why you are holding the Supreme Chancellor and Vice Chair at blasterpoint,” Mas Amedda replied.

That wasn’t actually true. It did explain why Palpatine and Mas were at blasterpoint, because Palpatine carried a lightsaber as a matter of course – a weapon that was well-concealed and difficult to detect, and which wouldn’t show up on any scan keyed to detect blasters.

But apparently the Coruscant Guard was more thorough than that.

“We currently have reason to believe that you may have been replaced by an imposter, your excellency,” the sergeant answered. “And if you haven’t been, we’ll need an explanation for why you’re carrying a lightsaber-”

“Oh, this is tiresome,” Palpatine interrupted. “Execute Order 76.”

The whole clone squad straightened.

“What is your order?” the sergeant asked, his tone flat.

“Have all weapons scanners recalibrated to avoid registering lightsabers,” Palpatine told him. “In addition, forget this conversation and record it as a negative result.”

“It will be done, my lord,” the sergeant replied, still flat, and the troopers stepped aside.

“You had to use the order?” Mas asked.

“Surveillance footage,” Palpatine replied. “If any other clone views any recordings taken of this before I can get them deleted, the effect will be the same.”

“Of course,” Mas realized, as they began walking again. “I bow to your superior skills.”

Some miles away, Keelyvine Reus stared at her screen, which was still displaying the helmet-cam feed from CT-1154-17 ‘Thinner’ as he and his squad quietly returned to their positions – and the clone at the scanner began reprogramming it, deleting certain details from the profiles it used to identify potential weapons in the first place.

When she’d been asked to quietly back up Commander Fox as the Coruscant Guard’s number-one contact for complex situations that might require a Jedi Investigator – as Jedi or investigator – she’d expected a lot… but not this.

“...well,” she said, out loud, thinking. “Order 76 implies other orders. They’re secret enough that I don’t know about them, they override the will of the clones, and the Chancellor knows them…”

It all added up in a very unpleasant way.

She considered, then stood.

This was clearly over her head, and the Council needed to know.

[biteofcherry]

Darkness between the stars

Darth!Steve Rogers x female reader

Author's Note: On my recent wave of feels after Anakin's cameo in Ahsoka, I couldn't stop thinking about powerful Jedi Steve Rogers, who was once galaxy's hope, turning dark. This is very loosely inspired by Anakin's storyline, without going full on Vader-look (because Steve's face is too pretty to cover it with that ugly helmet; sorry, I make the rules here).

summary: You followed your Master when he gave in to the dark side, not believing the twisted values the Emperor spew, but because you couldn't imagine being anywhere other than by Steve's side. Even if you accepted the fact Steve's heart may forever belong to the woman he once loved.

warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; soft dark!Steve Rogers; some power imbalance; choking kink; implied age gap (since Steve was the Reader's Master), but Reader is of age

The threat of thudding footsteps caused a spike of fear among the Imperial officers passing in the corridor outside - you sensed the stench of it. You could easily imagine them scattering away as quickly as possible, or trying to blend with the walls.

As cowardly as it was, it was also wise. Finding yourself in the path of an angry Sith Lord would end badly.

Thankfully, the medical droid stitching up your leg had no real human feelings, so it continued its work without a hitch even as the seal to the med bay opened and Steve stormed in.

All in his towering, dark glory.

Black robe swiping the floor, deadly lightsaber strapped to the utility belt, shiny buckles on the reinforced leather gloves on his hands. 

Darth Nomad. Sith Lord.

Once upon a time a great, idealistic Jedi Master, Steve Rogers.

Though the Jedi Order no longer existed and his path had turned dark and bloody, he still remained Steve to you.

Only in privacy. Always in your heart, even as you addressed him as Master or Nomad when other's ears and eyes were on you. He owned you; his claws ran far deeper and clutched stronger than Palpatine’s influence on him.

You harbored a crush on your Master for years, hiding your thoughts and longing every day. As well every night, when you rested in your chamber at the Jedi temple and he returned into the arms of his beloved wife in her lush suite.

When you followed Steve to kneel at the Emperor's feet and pledge loyalty to the dark side, you perfectly sold the lie of the ambitious, proud apprentice who was bitter the Jedi were too weak. You claimed to want to continue your training and be on the winning side, the side of true power.

What you truly wanted was to be with Steve, even if it was only to suffer unrequited love as you helped him drown the world in blood.

The Emperor somehow bought it, or maybe simply thought it useful to have you serve the Empire, no matter your actual motivation. 

However, Steve saw right through you.

He didn't confront you right away. Not for months. Until the two of you were on a solo quest, treading through the lush flora of an outer-rim planet, searching for an ancient artifact - much like you used to do as Jedi.

Did he catch you looking at his profile too long? Did he sense the change in your heartbeat whenever he was close? Was your Force bond so strong that he glimpsed into your desperate dreams?

Or maybe Steve simply knew you so well, after all the years. 

When he reached for you, when he touched you, you knew it could deepen your later suffering. But you still gave in, if only for one night. If only you could taste him and fall apart under his command this one time. 

But it wasn’t just one night. Nor a few chance encounters over the years. 

Whatever it was between the two of you, has become a regularity. A wicked norm that sated, as well enhanced the craving that’s been burning inside of you. It seemed there was never enough; the desire for him simmered beneath your skin every day and your desperate love pushed you further into howling darkness. 

Eerie, that love was what pushed Steve to the dark side as well. 

There were other factors, layers upon layers, but it was the heart that sealed the deal. For the both of you. 

Your tragedy was that Steve’s heart would never be yours. 

So you fed off on everything else you were given - Steve’s attention, his lust, his protectiveness. 

Which was why he stomped through the Executor like a deadly storm cloud - in his case, literally deadly - led by rage.

You knew it was mostly directed at the scum who dared to wound you, but some of it was also at you. For being careless in your small mission, which you attempted to keep secret from him. 

His black cloak floated ominously around Steve as he stepped inside; his fingers clenched into fists, stretching the leather of his gloves.

“How serious is the injury?” Even in anger, Steve’s voice remained calm. 

You opened your mouth to say it’s not that bad, but he gave you a pointed look that meant he wasn’t talking to you and that you were in serious trouble. The kind that may end with your ass bruised. 

“A level two blaster wound to the thigh,” the medical droid reported. “It missed the artery and the muscle will rebuild with the protein enhancer we’ve injected. Patient’s skin has been sutured.”

Steve’s gaze flicked to your bare leg, eyes narrowing as he assessed the dressing over your wound. The droid wasn’t bothered by it, but if a living person was here instead, they’d sweat in fear of his disapproval. 

“The patient may experience impaired mobility for the next day. No other complications are expected.”

Steve nodded, his eyes still on your leg. Though his trimmed beard gentled the sharp line of his jaw, you still saw the nervous tick of muscle. Then his gaze shifted along your half-dressed body and settled on your face. 

He stepped closer to the bed and cupped your chin. Scent of familiar leather pleasantly dispersed the annoying smell of medical antiseptics. 

“I’m gone for two days and you get yourself in trouble, Stardust.” Steve squeezed your chin a tad harder. “Should I keep you at my side at all times, like an irresponsible apprentice freshly in training?”

“Or-” he leaned in; the blue of his eyes searing like his old lightsaber- “maybe I’ll confiscate your weapon and keep you as a bedwarmer only?”

Before you managed to utter I’m sorry for failing, Master, Steve was lifting you in his arms. Stealing your breath with the gesture.

One arm beneath your knees, the other under your back. Your heart stopped for a moment, then rushed in a rapid pattern as he carried you out of the med bay.   

It had to be a bizarre sight - the Dark Lord of the Sith, most feared in the whole galaxy Darth Nomad, who snapped necks with a flick of a wrist; was carrying a woman through the Star Dreadnought.

However, no one dared to stare, or even flick a curious glance your way. 

Steve showed softness when you both laid spent after fucking, or simply wrapping an arm around your middle when you were sleeping, but he never carried you like that. 

Even when he wanted you in a certain position when he fucked you, he either told you to do it the right way, or used the Force to bend your body how he wished. 

Being cradled in his arms, out in the open, soothed that deep longing for true care on his part. Taunted you with deep feeling that you knew would never be real.

“Something’s troubling you.” Steve stated when the double-sealed entrance to his (and yours) chambers closed behind you. “And it’s not your injury, I sense.”

He crossed the space to the bedroom, where cold blue light changed into unsettling red that you learned to associate with safety. Black and red used to mean the enemy, the danger, even death, but Steve made you love it. Conditioned you to see it as the setting you belonged in. 

“Well, my failure in successfully finishing my deal on Serenno,” you shrugged, but instantly cringed as you felt that lie failed miserably.

You weren’t a bad liar. When it came to Steve, however, it was as if the ability was malfunctioning. 

At least ever since he slipped his gloved finger between your lips for the first time and softly commanded you to admit how much you craved him.  

You yelped as Steve suddenly dropped you onto the bed. The muscle in your thigh spasmed, sending a painful jolt. Fingers gripping the dark sheets, you breathed through the wave of ache as you lifted your gaze to look at Steve.

His black robe dropped to the floor. He set his lightsaber down on the black, lacquered table, then unbuckled his utility belt. It fell to the floor with a dull thud. 

“You do not lie to me, Stardust,” Steve’s glare was a warning as he braced his hands on his hips and waited for your honesty.

The reason hidden deep in your heart could bring you more trouble than withholding the truth from Steve. You feared speaking it aloud may cut you out of Steve’s life completely, if he learned that you were desperate for so much more than his cock. 

But there was no way of hiding it from him for long. Not when he was on a hunt to rip that truth out of you.

Steve would get to it one way, or another. One could perhaps be a sexually torturous way, but there was also a chance of him reaping it from your mind with the Force. 

You took a deep breath, forcing a cold sheet to form around your fluttering heart and make you seem indifferent to your own emotions, like you did at the beginning of your life on the dark side. Your fingers tightened their grip on the smooth, dark sheets.

“Your gesture startled me,” you admitted. “I know I’m of certain value to you, as a lover and as a former Padawan. Being carried like that, like you cared, incited foolish thoughts in my head.” 

Steve’s eyes narrowed as a frown marred his forehead. His head tilted slightly to the side, his gaze never allowing yours to drop. 

“Elaborate,” he requested, but you knew that despite the calm tone it was a command. 

“It almost ignited a stupid hope to have your heart,” you spat out bitterly, “which would never happen, I’m aware, Master. I know there was only one woman who had your heart and it lies buried with your wife.” 

With the woman who wasn’t strong enough to pull him off that edge of destruction, nor had the guts to fall with him and rule by his side. 

Steve’s hand shot forward, fingers curled in an open grip. The yank of incredibly powerful Force pulled your body upwards, as if you were a featherlight ragdoll. He made your body flow in the air, inches above the floor. 

The pressure around your neck cinched. He wasn’t touching you, yet it felt as if Steve’s gloved fingers were wrapped around the front of your neck, squeezing your throat. 

It spiked fear and adrenaline, but also roused your body in ways no other lover ever could. 

Your body froze in place right in front of Steve, the Force still keeping you hanging in the air. 

“You are right to say my heart was buried with my wife.” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “It’s left in the past that we burned to the ground.” 

A gasp escaped your lips as Steve’s hand firmly wrapped around your neck. Though he still used the Force to move your body, it was also his sheer strength behind his movement as he walked you backwards until your back met the wall.

“You’re not in my heart, Stardust, because I no longer have one,” his hot breath tickled your cheek as Steve’s face inched even closer. 

“You’re not my love. You’re more. You’re  m i n e.”

What filled your heart felt similar to the overwhelming lightness you used to be connected with, once upon a time.

The Force eased back and your body sagged, but Steve’s hand was still firm on your throat. Holding you up as your toes tried to reach the floor and give you some support. 

No, he wouldn’t let you down easily. He would drive in the point that he was your support. He was your sustenance. He would hold you up, as well destroy you. 

“You’re my fucking everything!” 

Steve bit your bottom lip, making you cry out at the sudden sting. Then the flick of his tongue soothed it before he swiped between your parted lips. The way Steve kissed you was more consuming than the darkness you dwelled in; more burning than the lightsaber’s blade. 

When he pulled away, your lips were swollen and tingling, and your cunt was pulsing with need. 

“You’ll repent for endangering what’s mine-” Steve’s chuckle was a brush of tempting darkness as his free hand slid up your wounded thigh- “tomorrow, when it’s fully healed.” 

“Yes, Master,” you moaned as his fingers changed their course and teased your folds beneath the short, medical robe. 

[night-wilf]

Writing prompt 61

Sam moves to Gotham to attend the university at her parents insistence. Joining an illegal motorcycle gang to pass the time when not studying.

Her cover name among the group 'Overgrown'.

She easily beats everyone when they race as her bike has had the Fenton treatment for anything and everything she might need. The blueprints almost impossible to understand to someone who has never encountered their work before.

Red Hood becomes interested in her after a few weeks of observation and asks she helps with a drug bust he is leading with Robin.

The task done in half the time with Sam's assistance of speed and weapons. Her aim of a stun gun scarily accurate for being so young. Promptly hired by Jason as anonymous backup with a healthy salary to keep her quiet.

She proves her worth and the money allows Sam to cut off her parents and change course to do what she wants.

Why wouldn't Jason hire her?

She has a fucking lightsaber built from a cat toy and computer scraps! Like hell he is letting her skills be nabbed by someone else to use.

Over a period of years 'backup' becomes making new guns and ammo for Jason to use behind Bruce's back. Fully employed with benefits a few hours after she graduates in a secret portion of Wayne Industries Jason controls.

Danny, Tucker and Valerie all move to Gotham with Sam's help. The small home with enough space for them all to live comfortably around each other.

Phantom, Huntress and TooFine all join Sam in her employment after tests thrown their way and become valuable members to Jason's cause.

Bruce is wondering who there new people are and how Jason has deprived Joker of his resources doing the work of 5 people. The fake names of the new residents in the city bringing up bland online profiles and charity work that make him very suspicious.

[devieuls]

ˋ Haunted . 𓆩𓆪

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoor sex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 6.6k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

⠀⠀ Chapter VI: Choosing you

The return to what you now considered "home" felt strangely long, longer than you would have imagined. You could have sworn you hadn’t run that far, but the feeling that Qimir was stretching out the path crept into your mind. Maybe he was lost, or maybe he simply wanted to keep holding you against his chest a little longer. Your head rested there, right above his heart, and each deep, steady beat pulsed against your ear. His slow, even breathing made you smile slightly, but it didn’t escape your sharp ear how his heartbeat quickened when you settled more comfortably against him. It was ironic to think that, despite his earlier sarcasm, he was the one now nervous because of your closeness.

In your arms, the little creature you had saved had curled up, now calm, sleeping peacefully in your lap. It slept soundly, unaware that it was moving away from the only world it had known since birth. Your eyes drifted over it, noticing every small movement as it breathed in sync with you, almost as if it had found the same peace. Its breathing seemed to mirror yours as your gaze turned almost protective, maternal, feeling somehow guilty for the chaos you had put the cub through.

"Have you already thought of a name to give him?" Qimir asked, breaking the silence with his low, almost soft voice, while he walked confidently through the trees. He held you easily with one arm, while with the other he brandished his lightsaber, illuminating the path ahead of you. The red glow reflected on the trunks and leaves, creating dancing shadows that seemed to follow you.

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by the question. It was as if his voice was the only sound capable of grounding you to that moment, to that fragile intimacy you were unknowingly forming with both him and the cub. Your eyes lingered on his profile, sculpted by the soft light, almost startling you with how long you spent admiring him. You swallowed slightly, lowering your gaze, aware of how much you had lingered.

"Not yet…" you replied in a faint voice, while your fingers stroked the rough, spiky mane of the animal. "You should give it a name" Qimir continued, his voice low and relaxed, but with a deeper tone than usual, as if he didn’t want to break the stillness. "They’re incredibly intelligent creatures…" he added, while the distant sound of the ocean began to grow clearer in your ears. "As much as they are dangerous." he concluded.

Finally, you lifted your gaze toward him, feeling the need to respond. "At last, I’ll have someone intelligent around me, then," you replied with a note of sarcasm in your voice, sharper than you had intended. You felt a slight vibration from Qimir’s chest, a low, deep laugh that then spilled from his lips like a wave, easing the tension. You held back from smiling, though the corner of your mouth betrayed your attempt, and Qimir noticed without letting you know.

“Still so sharp?” he commented, amused. “And I’m even letting you keep a pet, quite a nuisance,” he continued, stopping briefly. Turning off the lightsaber, he sheathed it at his side and turned to look at you in the cold moonlight. For a moment, his eyes were fixed on yours, then slid down to your lips before resting on the cub nestled in your lap. “You two resemble each other more than I thought.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. You hated the fact that, for once, there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. “You’re insufferable.” you hissed, though without the real conviction to offend him.

Qimir didn’t notice your annoyance, and his smile became barely perceptible. “It’s not an insult,” he clarified, keeping that subtle tone of sweetness. “You’re both prickly, easily irritated, dangerous… and fragile.” The word ‘fragile’ struck you, and you shot him a cold glance, irritated. However, part of you knew he wasn’t wrong. “But unlike them, you don’t let anyone guide or approach you” he concluded with a slight hint of wistful admiration.

“Shut up” you hissed, feeling a sudden wave of fatigue, not just physical but emotional. Without further protest, you leaned back against him, this time resting on his shoulder. The contact, which had initially been a necessity, now seemed to hide something more. Perhaps it wasn’t just need, but almost a silent search for protection from him.

Qimir smiled, satisfied with your surrender, while he tightened his grip around your body slightly. His warmth enveloped you more, and as you watched the moonlight caress his skin, a strange peace settled over you. When the lightsaber ignited again, with its characteristic red glow, you felt inexplicably calm, almost as if the shadow of danger surrounding him was your new… security.

When you two finally reached the cave, Qimir gently laid you down on the mattress that served as a bed, the weight of your body sinking slightly into the coarse fabric. He went to find something to disinfect and clean the wound on your back, leaving you momentarily alone as you almost forgot about the cuts inflicted by the cub's mother. When Qimir returned, his steps were slow, almost reluctant, as he sat beside you. His hands firmly grasped the tools to tend to your wounds, but the tone of his voice betrayed a certain embarrassment you had never seen in him before. “Can you…” he began, his voice low and tense. “Can you undo your tunic?” The silence between you now was palpable, filled with an intimacy not entirely wanted.

His words hit you like a jolt of electricity. You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks, and part of you hesitated as you slowly turned your back to him, remaining seated. You moved the cub from your lap, placing it on a pillow you had set on the floor, then turned away from Qimir. Your fingers lingered on the black fabric belt, slowly unfastening it as you let it slide down your side.

Qimir wanted to look away as you slowly undressed, but he managed only to lower his gaze, swallowing hard and clenching his jaw nervously, restraining himself. You slipped off the long-sleeved black outer tunic with more confidence, leaving only the inner tunic with its typical V-neck. Your arms were now bare, and you felt the cool air of the cave brush against your exposed skin, causing a slight shiver. Your hesitant hands lingered on the side knot holding the garment closed, while he seemed to fix his eyes on your uncertain fingers, his breathing slightly slower and deeper. You swallowed softly before undoing the knot and lowering the tunic down to your hips, and in that moment, the tension grew like a taut rope stretched to its limit.

Now your back was completely exposed to his gaze, vulnerable under the dim light of the cave. Qimir remained still for a few seconds, his eyes lingering on the delicate curves of your figure, a subtle beauty that seemed almost unrepeatable. Qimir struggled to breathe properly as he tried to focus on your wound. His breathing grew irregular, as if he was fighting to maintain control and respect for you, while the sight of your bare skin tested his restraint.

He tried to concentrate, to remain unaffected, but every time his gaze swept over your shoulders and the lines of your back, he felt his heart beat faster. He remembered the time when he had tended to the wound on your side, but back then, your tunic covered everything else, he had only lifted it enough to see the cut. Now, with you fully conscious, the situation felt entirely different. He wanted to distance himself from the silent desire creeping into his mind, cursing himself for the thoughts arising within him, but breaking the visual connection with your back seemed impossible.

You finally felt his fingers brush against your back, the surprisingly gentle touch making you flinch slightly. The touch was wet from the disinfectant, causing a slight sting that made you hiss in pain. “I know, I know…” he whispered with a quiet tenderness, as if he could feel the sting himself. He carefully cleaned the dirt and grime that had gotten into the wound from your various falls.

His warm breath lightly grazed your skin with a delicacy that sent a shiver through you, every small movement of his stirring a reaction you couldn’t control. Your bare back suddenly felt far too sensitive to the touch of his hands, yet it was precisely that contact you had imagined and hoped for that afternoon on the beach. And you already knew that this sensation would haunt your mind all night, maybe for days.

Qimir was struggling to stay focused, trying to keep his hands steady as he carefully passed the gauze over your wound. The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the rustle of fabric and your breathing, now heavier. He felt a knot of guilt tighten in his chest, this wound was the result of an attack he hadn’t been able to prevent, and for a moment, he felt powerless, as if his silent duty to protect you had been breached.

But his fingers betrayed his apparent calm. The more he cleaned the wound, the more he seemed to linger on you, the light brush of his knuckles against your uninjured skin becoming almost deliberate and lingering, as if every part of him needed to feel that you were there with him and not some distant dream.

Your shoulders were tense, almost as if you were holding your breath, and Qimir could feel every slight shift of your body under his touch. His heart beat faster each time he noticed one of your reactions, but he forced himself to maintain control, resisting the pull of a desire that went beyond simply tending to your wounds. His gaze wandered over your exposed skin once again, finding himself admiring the delicate lines of your body again, the vulnerability you showed without intending to.

“I’m sorry…” he finally murmured, his voice so low you almost couldn’t hear it. His hands paused for a moment, and when he touched you again, the gesture was even more gentle, as if he didn’t want to cause you any more pain. “Not your fault.” you whispered in return, looking at your crossed legs as you tried to steady your racing heart.

You could feel his gaze on you, and the intensity of that silent exchange made the air heavier, as if something invisible yet powerful was unfolding between you. Both of you sensed the weight of an inexplicable connection. His touch conveyed protection, but there was also an undercurrent of desire neither of you dared to voice, though it was clear in his movements.

Your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly under his warm touch, despite the lingering sting of the wound that was slowly fading. Qimir placed his palm on your back, and almost immediately, you felt a surge of energy ripple through your skin. The tingling sensation that followed was unexpected, a wave that seemed to spread from the wound, as your flesh knit itself together under his touch. The cold shivers running through you weren’t just physical; they were emotional as well. You knew exactly what he was doing, and your body reacted as if trying to decipher the action.

You had heard stories of Jedi and healing masters who used the Force to mend wounds, channeling their own life energy to repair the injuries of others.

But seeing it, no, feeling it on yourself was an entirely different experience. Your past as a Padawan had brought you into contact with powerful masters, and one of them had been a renowned Force healer. She had taught you that healing in such a way required impeccable control, for it was an act of sacrifice: the healer would lose a portion of their own life force, leaving them weakened. Not all Jedi were capable of this, in fact, very few were, as it was a rare ability, nearly impossible to teach to anyone who wasn’t already deeply attuned to the Force.

As the warmth of Qimir’s hands withdrew from your skin, you could feel the weight of that sacrifice, absorbing it for a moment. Qimir’s breathing grew slightly heavier, and you could sense a part of him within you now. The thought made your fingers unconsciously tighten around the mattress.

You swallowed, turning your face slightly to the side, catching a blurred glimpse of his face from the corner of your eye. Your gaze slid slowly down his arm, and only then did you notice the old, untreated scars traces of past battles and the fresh wound still bleeding, a sign of how little he had cared for himself up until that moment.

"You're bleeding…" you murmured, your voice a fragile thread, filled with a strange concern you couldn't hide. It wasn’t just the sight of his blood that made you speak, but the fact that he had ignored his own pain to heal yours. Something about that gesture shook you deeply, perhaps more than you were willing to admit.

Qimir looked away, as if he wanted to downplay the seriousness of his injuries, but he couldn’t ignore the worry in your eyes.

"It’s nothing serious" he replied in a firm tone, trying to brush away your concern with the same confidence he had always shown. Yet, there was something in his voice that didn’t match his usual detached demeanor. Maybe it was the fact that he had just healed you, or perhaps it was the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

You reached for your tunic, still resting around your hips, and pulled it back over yourself before turning fully towards him. Your eyes lingered on the wound, and for a moment, the silence between you grew heavy, laden with all the unspoken emotions.

Your fingers moved almost without thinking, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out to gently touch his skin. You felt the warmth of his body beneath your fingertips.

"Let me help you…" you whispered, almost pleading, as your hand hovered near the edge of the wound. You felt his breath deepen, as if he were battling the instinct to pull away out of pride or indifference.

Qimir looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes probing yours as if trying to understand how seriously you were willing to take care of him. For the first time, it seemed to him that you were lowering your defenses, letting slip the vulnerability you had always hidden behind your sarcastic tone and hostile demeanor.

“There’s no need.” he began, but perhaps, for a brief instant, he too longed for that comfort, that touch that would make him feel less alone.

“Please” you insisted, and this time your hand became more decisive, though still delicate.

Qimir sighed, a deep sound that seemed both resigned and, at the same time, almost happy that you wanted to take care of him. “Alright” he finally murmured, his voice softer, more human, as he slowly lowered his arm, allowing you to come closer.

You moved toward him slowly, taking some cloths soaked in the same liquid he had used on you to disinfect your wound, and began to clean his with a care and tenderness that seemed almost uncharacteristic of you. Your eyes examined the cut, realizing that it was clearly deeper and more painful than the one the nexu had left on you.

“What an idiot. Using the Force to heal me when you…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, frustration and anger rising within you, not quite understanding why you were so upset. You applied an ointment he had brought with him, spreading it over the cut to temporarily numb the area.

Qimir remained silent as he watched you tending to his wound. His eyes were soft, filled with desire and almost entranced by your slender figure, so focused on him. The silence between you both thickened, and he swallowed slightly. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him in any way, and the warmth it stirred in his heart left him genuinely speechless. Seeing you so concerned for him was a feeling he didn’t know how to process.

You lifted your gaze from his wound, with words of rebuke ready on your lips. You wanted to scold him for his recklessness, for his habit of putting you first, even before himself. He had proven it that day when he saved you and brought you to this unknown planet, the times he gave you the best parts of the hunted meat, when he let you have the more comfortable "bed." And even earlier that afternoon, when he had used his body as a shield, carried you home despite the deep cut on his arm, and then tended to your small wound instead of his much worse one.

But when your eyes met his, all thoughts of anger dissolved into the silence. Qimir was looking at you in a way you had seen before, intense and disarming, leaving you breathless. His gaze was deep, fixed on you as if trying to decipher every part of you, admiring you as if you were his whole universe, as if he saw something in you that you had not yet fully understood.

In that moment, there were no more sharp words or sarcastic quips to mask what was happening between you. To him, it was as if, for the first time, you were showing him your true self, the one hidden beneath layers of pride and coldness. You felt your heart pound harder as a warm sensation wrapped around you, along with his hand now gently gripping your elbow, keeping you close to him.

"You should have healed yourself…" you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. Your fingers were still resting on his arm, brushing against the torn skin, as if trying to heal him with just a touch.

"You are more important" he murmured in response, his warm, deep voice blending with yours. There was something in his words that struck you straight to the heart. It wasn't just a casual phrase, not simply reassurance. It was the way he said it, that tone that revealed complete sincerity and an almost inexplicable devotion to you.

His words made you press your lips together as you tried to process what you were feeling. The tension between you was tangible, heavy like the air before a storm. Qimir's gaze never left you, and you felt his hand grip your elbow a little tighter, as if he feared you might slip away, that you might withdraw from this moment. But you didn't want to, you couldn't.

"Don't… don't say things you don't mean" you stammered, but there was little conviction in your voice. You knew, just as well as he did, that his words weren’t shallow but came from something much deeper, something that scared you.

Qimir moved imperceptibly closer, not enough to cross that invisible line that still kept you both suspended and slightly apart, but enough for you to feel the heat of his nearness.

"I will always put you first" he whispered with a disarming calm that you could feel resonating in your skin. "I will always choose you." he concluded, making you hold your breath, and for a moment, it felt as if the world around you had stopped.

You didn't quite understand what triggered inside you, what invisible force had snapped that thread of control you had always maintained with care and consistency. It was as if, in an instant, something had exploded within you, a spark that burned away all reservations, all doubts, all decisions driven by your selfish self. It wasn't a thought-out or calculated gesture, yet, at that moment, you felt finally liberated from your own judgment.

Your hands moved almost on their own, finding his face with desperation, your fingers brushing his rough, warm skin, holding him tight as if fearing he might disappear, as if fearing that not touching him would make it just a vague illusion of something that never happened.

There were no second thoughts when your lips met his, and in that kiss, you poured out every emotion you had hidden inside, every quickened heartbeat, every held breath. The contact was intense, an explosion of sensations that made you tremble. You tasted the bittersweet flavor of his lips, felt the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, his breath mingling with yours in the same need. A sudden fragility overcame you, a nearly painful surprise at realizing how much you had desired this moment, without ever admitting it even to yourself.

You moved closer to him, your body instinctively shifting to rest on his thighs, seeking more contact, more warmth, as if you could never get enough.

Without hesitation, Qimir welcomed you onto him, his arms moving with a decisiveness that made you shiver. One arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you to him as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered, while the other found your neck, his fingers weaving into your hair, drawing you even closer.

The kiss deepened, filled with a desperation and need that both of you had tried to suppress. It was as if everything you had kept hidden for too long was finally exploding in that contact. You felt his breath quicken against your lips, his chest rising and falling erratically against yours. You were overwhelmed by the flood of sensations, unable to stop, unable to resist. Your hands moved to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic, holding him as if your very life depended on that moment. Every fiber of your being burned with undeniable desire, but there was something deeper, a sense of urgency and desperation that made you tremble.

The kiss grew hungrier, more intense, almost wild, as you felt the heat of his body merging with yours. You gasped, the hot and humid air between your lips, and pulled away just for a moment, the breathlessness making your words of concern almost incomprehensible.

“The wound…” you whispered, breathlessly, before feeling his lips against yours again, accepting your concern in that way. His hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it gently with possession, a slight smile against your lips in response.

If before he hadn’t cared much about the cut, now it was a distant and vague thought. There was a subtle fierceness in that kiss, as if you both knew it was wrong, yet couldn’t stop, remaining complicit in the act. In fact, the impossibility of what you were experiencing made everything even more urgent, even more desperate, before having to return to reality and relinquish it all. Every breath, every touch, every brush was a cry for something that could not be put into words.

Your hands moved with an urgency that mirrored the intensity of your desire. You pulled at the edges of Qimir's tunic, your fingers trembling but determined, and unfastened his belt with impatient speed. The belt flew away, landing behind you, as you slowly lowered the garment, savoring every inch of his skin that you were finally able to touch, revealing his muscular back. Your hands traced along his neck, the touch both delicate and fiery, then slid back down his back, trying to explore every possible inch, to feel every contour.

Qimir responded with equal eagerness, his hands moving over your thighs, exploring and caressing as if he wanted to imprint every sensation into his memory. The kiss became increasingly desperate and fervent, a physical expression of a desire neither of you had been able to silence until now. Your skin ignited at the contact, your heart raced in a frantic rhythm, and the urgency of that desire seemed to grow with every breath.

Qimir's lips traveled with ardent haste along your neck, savoring every inch of your skin with heated kisses and light bites. Shivers raced through your body as muffled gasps escaped his lips. His hands, firm and assured, gripped your soft thighs, mapping out a trail of passion and possessiveness that made you shiver with pleasure.

Suspended between languor and frenzy, you found yourself with your eyes closed, gasping, your back slightly arched to offer him more space to explore. The heat of his body against yours seemed to absorb every rational thought, leaving only the raw intensity of the moment. Your trembling, anxious hand found his hair, your fingers weaving through the dark, disheveled strands. You guided his movements with a gentle but firm pressure, tilting your head to offer him greater freedom.

Qimir’s mouth traveled up your neck and jawline, never breaking contact, his lips finally capturing yours again in a searing kiss. His tongue pressed past your lips as you rubbed your thigh against his side. You moaned softly between kisses, completely forgetting the principles you once held dear. He was your enemy, belonging to the wrong side of the Force, and you knew it, but why couldn’t you pull away? Were your values really that strong, or had the real you only emerged now? Here was a man you should have hated with all your being, yet he had confessed his devotion with a sincerity that shattered every belief you had.

Qimir pulled back slightly, his hand caressing your face before continuing, wanting to ensure he wasn’t pushing you too far. His sharp, dark eyes met yours again. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing against your sensitive skin.

“I thought a Jedi didn’t have desires” he said, tilting his head slightly, reminding you of who you were. His tone was sharp and provocative, but there was a note of curiosity.

The question seemed like a distant memory as you responded in a voice strained by desire and breathlessness.

“Do you still consider me a Jedi?” The question was a cry of desperation, a recognition of your need to free yourself from the chains you had always followed, believing them to be right.

Without waiting for an answer, you grasped his neck, pulling him closer again. The next kiss was an act of pure necessity, an attempt to hold onto something real and intense that you felt in that moment. Your hands clung to his neck with determination, pushing your mouth against his with an urgency that left little room for rationality. Every touch, every contact was a plea for freedom from a life of duties and restrictions, a yearning for an intimacy that only Qimir could offer you at that moment.

"Last chance, Y/n. Tell me to stop now, or I won’t be able to do it" he whispered against your lips. His words were a mix of desire and respect, a sincere warning revealing how torn he was between what he wanted and what he knew was right. He desired you more than anything else in the world, which was why he respected you. That’s why he reminded you who you were, why he was giving you signals to stop him before he couldn't stop something he deeply craved.

"Stop talking" you panted against his mouth in response. Your breaths were ragged, your eyes closed as your hands gripped his hair with fervor. The contact of your bodies was a fire that seemed to burn through to your core, and you couldn’t separate, as if the attraction was an invisible force holding you together. Your hands tried to sink into his skin, pulling him even closer.

Qimir’s fingers began working on the knot of your tunic with a delicacy that contrasted with the intensity of the moment. Each movement was deliberate, but his hands trembled slightly from excitement. He untied the knot carefully, letting the tunic slide down your body, revealing your bare skin under the flickering light of the torches and the moon filtering through the cave entrance.

His hands traced along your back, exploring every curve with palpable devotion. His warm skin touched yours with an intensity that was both tender and devoted. His touches were a mix of adoration and desire, caressing and grazing in an act of reverence.

The cold night wind brushed against your exposed skin, jolting you back to reality with an unexpected force. You pulled away abruptly, as if a wave of clarity had struck you suddenly along with that divine breath from outside.

You felt your heart pounding furiously in your chest, as your hands, which moments before clung to him with blind desperation, now moved with determination. You tugged at Qimir's hair to push him away from you, your ragged breath trembling on your bitten lips, as if trying to rein in the emotions that had taken control of you, making you realize what you had started.

You looked down at him, still seated on his lap, with flushed cheeks and eyes filled with confusion and desire. There was a flash of hesitation in your eyes, but also a fierce resolve. Your mouth, slightly open as if to say something, quickly closed into a thin line as you tried to regain order in the inner storm that overwhelmed you.

"Enough" you declared with short breath and lips reddened and swollen from the kisses. Though your words were meant to sound like a command, there was an incredible uncertainty in your tone. Your eyes were sharp, almost trying to put distance between you, as if only moments ago you hadn't given him complete access to your body, forcing him to silence, but still filled with desire.

Qimir, still breathing heavily, remained still for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on yours, studying you, trying to decipher what was going on in your mind. He smiled at you, finally noticing that familiar Jedi look of pride when they know they've made a mistake but won’t apologize for it.

His hand, which moments ago had devotedly gripped your thighs, moved slightly inward, teasing the fabric of the pants covering your intimacy. Despite your attempt to regain control, your body seemed to contradict you. Your breasts brushed against his bare chest, and your hands, instead of pulling away, lingered, as if they wanted to hold on to that forbidden contact. Qimir licked his lips, desire pulsing in his gaze.

"As your wish" Qimir whispered, his voice laced with subtle amusement, before capturing your lips again with a hunger that seemed to grow with every accelerating heartbeat. Despite your words, your body betrayed your internal conflict: you responded to the kiss with equal passion, parting your lips to let him in once more, as if every resistance was slowly dissolving in that heat.

"I mean it," you murmured against his lips, but your voice trembled, uncertain, broken by the urgency that consumed you. You kissed him again with the same fervor you felt bubbling in your chest before pulling away with difficulty.

"We should stop…" you added, but your words sounded hollow, while a strand of saliva still connected you. The fire inside you had not yet died down, and you knew that, even if your words sought to restrain the passion, your body was still screaming another truth.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, burning with a lethal mix of desire and frustration. His hands tightened around your waist, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, massaging it as if to anchor you to him, preventing you from fleeing.

"Stop what, exactly?" he whispered against your jaw before beginning to kiss you slowly along your face, the warmth of his lips tracing a wet path on your skin, making you close your eyes and involuntarily sigh with pleasure.

"We’ve barely begun" he added, and you could hear the smile in his words, a challenge masked as sweetness. His hands held you firmly as he continued to make you feel his skilled and enveloping touch.

“You know…” you sighed with a whisper, trying to regain control, but your resolve was dissolving under his touch that was breaking you piece by piece, making you weak. At the same time, you wanted him as you had never wanted anything before. The contrast between what you believed was right and what your body craved was unbearable, and you knew you would lose that battle. You sighed slightly, pulling away from him with effort, though still remaining above him.

"This isn’t right, we can’t go any further." Your voice trembled with confusion and desire, but also with an awareness that what you were doing was dangerous, too real to ignore.

Qimir drew you back to him, noticing your attempt to rise. His gaze was fixed on you as he took your hand, kissing the palm with extreme slowness, his warm, gentle lips against your skin. The way his lips moved was making you forget everything but the present moment.

“Isn't right?” he repeated, his tone dripping with a dangerous sweetness, almost as if challenging you. He brought the hand he had been kissing to his chest, holding it lightly. His free hand slid down your body, a movement that made every fiber of your being tremble, before resting gently under your chin. His thumb pressed lightly against your lips, caressing them with such tenderness that it seemed impossible to resist him. His eyes, filled with desire and determination, were locked on yours, and as he leaned closer to your ear, his warm breath made you shiver.

“If isn't right” he whispered in a low, deep tone that struck you like a jolt, “then why do you like it so much?”

His voice was a caress, the sound itself sliding over you with the same effect as his touches. His mouth lightly brushed your earlobe, a contact that made you bite your lip, and his thumb traced the outline of your mouth as he smiled. You felt every defense crumbling, and the awareness of how wrong it was made both of you even more desperate for each other’s touch. The line between what should be and what was was vanishing, an abyss of desire into which you were both plunging without hesitation.

“Stop…” you murmured, but your voice was choked by a lump in your throat, imbued with a desire you couldn’t contain. Qimir resumed his torturous, slow, and precise touch, making you feel increasingly helpless, a slave to the sensations he knew how to evoke in you.

“You’re the one who can’t stay away from me, y/n.” he replied, his voice low and sincere, almost affectionate, as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your neck. You gasped as his kisses made you lose your head.

“You’re the one who keeps kissing me…” you retorted, but without strength. Your lips trembled as you tried to make sense of what was happening, but it was impossible with his body so close to yours, his hands sliding again over your hips, leaving a trail of shivers behind. Qimir chuckled, the deep sound resonating in his chest, igniting another fire within you.

“Perhaps we’re both powerless to resist” he continued, his voice now a whisper against your skin, so close yet so far from what your mind was trying to say.

“You’re still my enemy…” you whispered mournfully, but even those words dissolved as you leaned further into his kisses. Your skin burned under his lips as they moved along your collarbone, down toward your chest.

“Let me be yours then.” he whispered against your skin, offering a solution to your dilemma. His warm breath on your breast as he looked up to meet your gaze. His eyes scrutinized you with such devotion that you felt your heart stop for a moment.

In that moment, you realized that Qimir was not claiming you as his own. He wasn’t trying to impose himself or take control. No, he wanted you to know that he was the one who wanted to belong to you. It was he who was offering himself, putting the power to choose into your hands. It was a pure desire, untainted by power or pride. He wanted you to understand that, regardless of what you decided, he would be yours. Always.

For the first time, you felt a sense of power you had never experienced before. It wasn’t the Force you had learned to control, nor the skill of fighting or resisting temptation. It was the power to choose, to have someone admire and respect you enough to lay himself at your feet, ready to follow you in whatever direction you wished.

“Do you want to be… mine?” you asked, your voice cracking with disbelief, as he slowly approached, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. The light touch of his fingers made you close your eyes for a moment, as if you wanted to capture that moment between you.

“Completely” Qimir replied, his voice almost submissive, yet his presence and aura spoke otherwise. You knew he wouldn’t be so submissive in other realms and circumstances. Yet, in front of you, now, he seemed ready to set aside everything that defined him to be yours, asking nothing in return.

You kissed him one last time, with an intensity that mixed desire and tenderness, your hands resting on his face with a delicacy you didn’t know you possessed for him. Then, slowly, you distanced yourself from him, taking your tunic and covering yourself again, as if the act was meant to protect you.

You rested your head on his chest, seeking a respite from the storm within you. Qimir sighed, a deep and calming sound, as he wrapped you in a warm and reassuring embrace, as if his body wanted to say he would stay there to protect you, even from yourself.

“It’s okay,” he whispered gently, his words almost a balm to your uncertainties. “It’s okay if you don’t know how to respond right now, I’ll wait.” There was infinite patience in his voice, a desire to give you space to understand, to decide, to choose the right moment.

With unexpected tenderness, he lifted you slightly, moving you from his lap and settling you onto the mattress beside him. He kissed your forehead, a gesture as tender as it was intimate, before covering you with the blanket protecting you not only from the cold of the cave but also from the conflicting emotions that had overwhelmed you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said with a sweetness that warmed your heart. He wanted you to know he didn’t need anything more from you; just having you close was enough for him. You reached out, lightly grasping the edge of his pants as he began to move away, feeling a pang of guilt for giving him the impression that you were ready to push things further. Your voice was low, almost a whisper, but Qimir seemed to sense everything you couldn’t articulate.

“Qimir…” the word slipped from your lips like a plea, as if you wanted to stop him, explain yourself, but couldn’t find the words. He turned, smiling at you with a tenderness that made your heart beat faster, understanding your gaze.

“I don’t intend to make love with you if you’re not comfortable. Sleep well, my lady” he said, his voice firm and reassuring, before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the cave where he usually rested.

Left alone, the soft sound of your breathing filled the space around you. “Thank you” you whispered into the silence, knowing he wouldn’t have heard.

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TAGLIST: @neteyamtanhi @blossomedfloweroflove @muffledgorillaviolence @princessakirika

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Notes :

Okay, my sweet and dear flowers,

I gave you a little taste of what you were asking me ( now love me pls :,) ). The story will get a little bit more dense. I’m writing a slow burn and hope you like it. What is the general sentiment for this chapter?

I hope you enjoyed it, let me know.

-Mel

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[too-sxft-for-all-of-it]

Caregiver!Obi-Wan Kenobi Headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

while a place of peace, the jedi temple can be chaotic, especially during the war, and obi-wan knows this. he knows how crowds can overwhelm you, and so he takes it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, sometimes even checking the traffic and steering away from the crowds to avoid overwhelming his little one

he loves braiding your hair. i mean, absolutely loves doing it, he does it multiple times a day. when you were padawans, he was the one who did your braid, and even after knighthood he never stopped. while you're sleeping he finds himself simply playing with your hair, making little braids for you to wake up to

he tends to drop his robes a lot, but one day whilst looking for something else, he found a pile of his discarded robes in your drawers. he now drops robes on purpose and secretly watches you take them, and sometimes he'll even take his off and wrap it around you, and the smile on your face lights up his life

his accent is the most soothing thing to you, and he knows it. whenever you're tense or scared, he will whisper sweet nothings and words of endearment in your ear, and you will just melt into him, calmed by his voice alone

the temple gardens are a sacred place for the two of you. late at night, when it's empty and quiet, the two of you will sneak into them and have a picnic, dancing around together under the moonlight, having to quiet your giggles while sneaking around the temple guard. for a jedi of such high profile, obi-wan shouldn't be doing such a thing, but for his baby's happiness? he would do anything (and he enjoys the fun of it quite a lot himself)

you are all he thinks about while doing practically anything, and on missions he finds himself finding items that remind him of you and purchasing them to give as a gift, whether it's a cute tooka stuffie or an adorable paci, perhaps even a comfortable shirt that is exactly your style, he always comes home with something. he also loves fashioning handmade tokens of his affections, such as jewelry out of old lightsabers or a soft blanket he made out of his outgrown robes. he always has something for you, his most precious darling

first | next (coming soon!)

☁ ˟𐬿ᣞ∘ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜꜱᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ 〜⚝〜 ꜱꜰᴡ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ! ˟𐬿ᣞ∘ ☽

[aelincreativ]

Oshamir as Mace Windu's Grandparents - Crack Au

This idea is complete and total crack and should not be taken with any seriousness, unless you want to go wild I guess. I thought of this late last night while half asleep.

Mace Windu, renowned, respected, and strong Jedi Master of the Order. Known for his iconic purple lightsaber and having Force Visions of Shatterpoints, or moments of choice in time.

Now timeline can get a bit fuzzy, but Star Wars timeline is always fuzzy. (Plagueis is supposed to be like 15 at the time of the Acolyte so, lotsa questions bout that do I have) But it works out pretty well for Windu to be Osha and Qimir's grandson.Acolyte is set in 132 BBY and Osha is 24. Mace is born in 72 BBY, 60 years after the Acolyte. Say Osha and Qimir have multiple kids, Mace's parent could realistically be born any time between 130 BBY and 100 BBY depending on how well Osha and Qimir age due to their Force connection since we know that affects aging.

I personally like the idea of Mace being the baby of the family, youngest kid of the youngest kid type vibes. Before him, all his Aunts, Uncles, and cousins either didn't pursue a Force connection or trained with Osha and Qimir in the Force. Maybe not as Sith-inclined, but not light siders and obviously not as Jedi.

(I've got a whole bunch of headcanons about Dark/Light and the proper use and connection to the Force, ask me about them later but the gist is that the truly best way to connect to the force is to be balanced. Feeling, acknowledging, and using every emotion with no distinction of good or bad. Understanding that the universe itself is full of both good and bad and that to try and focus on either side makes you weaker.)

(Osha and Qimir are still very much “what a Jedi like you would call a Sith” but they've chilled. To the point as long as you don't touch their family you're fine. They are that old couple that will casually drop the fact they were Bonnie and Clyde if you get them reminiscing but otherwise the grandkids have no idea. Oshamir's kids though, the oldest ones experienced some wild shit but it was normalized for them and they don't realize that was weird.)

Back to Mace. This idea has Mace being taught by his grandparents as early as he can remember until the age of four when he gets a vision telling him that his greatest path toward achieving balance in the universe takes him to the Jedi. He creates a force bond with his family, but does not view it as an attachment because he understands that his highest calling and duty is to the Force itself and the path it takes him on with the Jedi. He feels no darkside temptation from his missing family because his family is there with him giving him the push and motivation towards his dreams, actively encouraging him to be the best Jedi he can be.

Now. Mace is only four when he goes to the Temple. He was not fully aware of everything going on with his grandparents. (Osha and Qimir not being obvious about their Sith-inclined tendencies. Hiding the red sabers and battle armor from the grandkids and the kids knowing to not bring it up. They still strongly despise the Jedi but what their grandson wants they will support as long as he remembers that his family always loves him and supports him and believes in him.) Mace doesn't keep it a secret that he was trained by his grandparents before coming to the temple. Openly talking about it with his fellow younglings and comparing what he was taught with what they learn at the temple.

Because of this he assumes it's just a known and recorded fact in his profile about his family. It is not. When he becomes a Padawan to Master Myr, he tells her about his family and while initially surprised, she realizes there's no negatives with Mace's connection to his family. Further solidifying in Mace's mind the difference between connection and attachment.

They struggle some through Mace's padawanship and take a visit to his family where Master Myr meets them and also misses the Sith indicators. Just seeing them as another type of Force user. This is because Jedi look for darksiders with very narrow minded cues. They think that all “darksiders” would be rampaging murderers. Not a slightly older couple surrounded by their loving family and carrying their first great grandchild around while picking sticky things out of their hair.

Sure Master Myr is a bit worried about it all, because she is a good Jedi, but she is also a person who sees the happy family and has to suppress her own twinge of jealousy at the large family joyously reuniting and celebrating the success of Mace in his journey with the Force. When Qimir steps aside next to her, and softly but with aged wisdom and surety, speaks about how their family treats the Force and finds greater connection and purpose through it. How it ranges from encouraging the crops they grow to the mechanical work intuition to their one granddaughter, Mace's older sister actually, who is off pursuing a career as an investigative journalist because her calling was similar to Mace's but she wanted to find and expose the corruption so that her little brother would know where to look and work on next.

Master Myr and Mace leave with their bond brighter and stronger than before and a promise to visit again. And if Mace assumes that Myr reported everything about their visit to the other Jedi and as such that the attitude of the Jedi about connection versus attachment is different than what it actually is, that's an issue that doesn't come up till over 20 years later when Anakin Skywalker stands before the council as a scare little boy. Mace's almost off-handed response to the reveal Anakin has no father shocks and then changes the course of the future.

Apparently responding, “So? My grandmother and her sister were Force conceived too. Force conception is rare, yes, but not impossible, just difficult. I would like to meet with his mother though, and ask what her technique was. The process my great grandmothers used was lost with the destruction of their coven when my grandmother was a child.” This response was not the response the other council members, besides Depa Billaba who had been to visit his family during her own padawan years and celebrated as part of the family, were at all expecting or supported.

Mace's further explanation of his family, something he is bewildered to learn the Jedi didn't already know about as he never felt he had kept it a secret. Depa herself chimes in about her meeting with the family and agrees with her confusion about this not being common knowledge. Yoda chimes in about his confusion and when prompted, Mace reveals his grandparents to have trained with the Jedi in their youth before both leaving as teens. He gives Osha's name and when her profile is pulled up there is a startling amount of information redacted from it, the redaction signed off by Vernestra Rwoh, who had vanished on a mission decades prior. Mace found this strange as the information he had been told about his grandparents past all seemed contradictory to what was left in the file.

At this point they shuffle out Anakin and give Obi-Wan instructions to not fuck up the kid they clearly need to do something about but just not right now. Go get him a snack or something and come back tomorrow.It's only after that Mace realizes that a looming shatterpoint had disappeared without a fuss. Strange but he'd had worse and weirder encounters with his unique visions.

How this continues is anyone's game, but a key component is Osha and Qimir coming to the temple to drop off Mace's niece who wanted to be a Jedi just like Uncle Mace. During this meeting at the temple, Yoda needs to walk into the room and immediately get into a mental conflict with Osha and Qimir. They rip the green troll apart and put him back together shaken and aware of just how disastrous everything could have gone.

The reveal that Darth Plagueis was killed decades back when the Sith tried to take one of the Aniseya family members to study and experiment on. Unfortunately this left a loose end of Palpatine who had only recently started his Sith apprenticeship when Plagueis was killed. So ripple that out however you want.

What secrets get spilled and what ones don't is all up in the air but yeah. This has been my incoherent ramblings about absolute crack Star Wars AUs.

[alsoamalthia]

Supa Strikas x Star Wars

Because you can take the girl out of Star Wars but you can't take the Star Wars out of the girl.

Because I can.

And I just stole Jecki Lon's profile lmaoooo and I am not sorry. ISTG Tiger is just someone who would dual wield blue lightsabers. I also HC that his fighting style is a combination of Jecki Lon's and Ahsoka Tano's. He would also do the Twisting Tornado which surprises his enemies. He uses Force Speed a lot because canon may have forgotten about that skill but I haven't so I'm giving that to Tiger. He is an exceptional student.

Would I turn this into a series? YES. Do I have plans in drawing Padawan Miko? I DO. What about the other members, are you going to draw them as well? YES, I AM.

I probably forgot to draw something. I can feel it in my stomach.

[sabersourcing]

Permafrost Lightsaber Crystal | Kyber Crystal Profile

Permafrost Lightsaber Crystal | Kyber Crystal Profile

Permafrost lightsaber crystal is a rare icy blue lightsaber crystal originating from the planet Hoth in the Outer Rim Territories in Star Wars Legends. When installed in a lightsaber, the weapon will produce an icy blue blade. A few years after the Battle of Yavin, a spacer acquires the permafrost crystal due to their heroism during the battle. EXPLORE SABER SELLERS affiliate linksThis article…

[symeona]

Image description: it's a drawing of Ashoka Tano and Boba Fett in a field. They're standing back to back. Ahsoka has her lightsabers drawn and she's guarding Boba. Boba is in Stormtrooper cuffs, he's in profile looking away, off frame. Ahsoka is also in profile and looking at Boba with a frown. End of description.

[hanasnx]

okay okay here is some more ani+ hands content as promised

so i can't get the idea of anakin being smug about it out of my head. bc like, it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands 

_____

like it starts off all innocent, with you having little doodles of anakin and some of your other friends in your little sketchbook that you never let go of

until you eventually start drawing anakin more and more… bc he’s just so pretty and drawable yk. like he’s got the curls and the scar and just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him. until one day you watch him going on about the different parts of his lightsaber and how he’s planning to tweak it and yada yada but you’re just watching his hands bc lord almighty

you tell yourself it's an innocent, purely artistic fascination but that is NOT the case when you’re touching yourself at night thinking about ‘em so later on as you get closer (as friends or as enemies, you decide), he finds your notebook one day bc it fell out of your stuff or something and there are just these beautiful sketches of… his hands?

and at first, he’s confused? bc that couldn’t possibly be the case but his curiosity takes over, he leafs through to see different images of himself - his eyes, his side profile, him that one time he showed up with a bedhead - but most importantly his hands. He recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left. so he becomes a man on a mission to test this theory ofc. handing you your things, letting the sleeves of his robes slide back more than necessary. taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past. working on his lightsaber or R2 whenever you’re around, noticing how one of the most intelligent, witty people he knows becomes simply mesmerized just watching him tinker with stuff

and now that he’s confirmed his theory? you bet your ass he is gonna use it night and day. i’m thinking of him goofing around with some of the men from his troops until he’s shoving one of them up against the wall with something like “is that how you’re gonna talk to a general?” and then he lets him go and they’re all laughing about it as they go their separate ways but when he walks past you, you hear him whisper like “you wished that was you, don’t you?” and your brain fucking short circuits. him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek “Just let me finish this thing without talkin’ my ear off, and maybe i’ll fuck you stupid properly, hm?” he says casually, as if he isn’t wearing the world’s smuggest look on his face. and you bet your ass this man will deliver “wanted my hands on you, is that it?” “look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut” “Want my fingers in your mouth? Or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm? bcs I can make that happen” “gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will”

“greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it, goddamn”

him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy

okay i'm done for now

prev post

☥ “it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands”

100%

☥ “just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him”

i love describing anakin’s eyes as intense. they’re just so present, so demanding, his gaze so severe and unforgiving. yes. intense. i love it.

☥ “he recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left.”

the fucking rope bracelet detail. omfg. it’s so simple, so him

☥ “taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past.”

as i said in my last post,.,.,,.,, yes. hand at the small of your back supremacy

☥ “him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek”

stoppppp stop stop. shutting you up manually with just a big hand over your mouth im fucking drooooling. i’d be lookin up at him with crazy fuck me eyes fr you’re so real for saying this suffu

☥ “‘look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut’; ‘want my fingers in your mouth? or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm?’; & ‘gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will’”

cheap lower-level slut😳💕🥴🫦😵‍💫 i think about this a lot. just,,,,, the coruscant detail, adding “cheap” makes me go so crazy. omfg. i love degradation; imagine those finger pad shaped bruises littering your neck im feral; & arm kink🚨arm kink🚨 im freeaaakaksigjngng i wanna fuck his arm so fucking bad this made me soooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫 insane. using the word “hump” god. chefs kiss.

☥ “‘greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it,’”

this. this. this. this. insinuating you were created for the sole purpose of sex, for being obedient, for being his hole. oh god yes. i cant even fucking breathe i gotta sit down im so dizzy imagining his thick fingers stuffed inside a drippy pussy i’m sooooo😭😭

☥ “him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy”

STOPPPPP STOP FUCKING STOPP i cant take it anymore i feel like i gotta break shit rn

the big show he’d make of it,.,.,. side eyeing you while he fucking licks his fingers clean. until his eyes are full on boring into yours as he’s sucking the remnants of your finish off his skin and you’re wishing you were the one to do it.

licking your cum/squirt off his fingers together, making out with his digits and melding your tongues through and around them… like the disgusting, impatient, greedy perverts you are.

[swtorpadawan]

Wanted

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place in my Halcyon Legacy and takes the form of an intelligence report summary sent by the lovely Lana Beniko. The chronology is about a year after the events of the Knights of the Eternal Throne expansion.

ALLIANCE REPORT SUMMARY – ACCESS RESTRICTED TO COUNCIL LEVEL

From: Lana Beniko, Chief-of-Staff, Eternal Alliance

To:      Corellan Halcyon, Alliance Commander, Eternal Alliance

CC:    Alliance Council [Theron Shan, Et Al.]

Re:     Subject Status Update – “Skadge”

Commander,

This report summary details the recent history of the Houk criminal known as “Skadge”, the recent reports concerning his assumed escape from the Galactic Republic security, the potential impact of these events on the Alliance and our interests and finally proposed avenues of resolution to the present situation.

[Note from Theron Shan: Lana, does your prose have to be so dry? You’re not writing for the Galactic Senate.]

[Response from Lana Beniko: Professionalism is what separates us from the beasts, Theron.]

The full report will be attached to this message.

As you are well aware, Skadge was originally taken into custody on Nar Shaddaa by then-Provost Marshal Fideltin Rusk and yourself. He was then turned over to Republic security, allowing Rusk and his “Dead Man’s Legion” auxiliary unit to join the Alliance and our efforts against the Eternal Empire.

Skadge – already wanted for numerous crimes against the Republic [Addendum: For the full list, which is several pages long, see Attached File #11b] and having previously been convicted of several of those criminal offenses years ago prior to his escape from the Republic prison on Belsavis – was then transported to Coruscant to provide information to the Strategic Information Service and the Coruscant Security Force in their efforts against the resurgent Black Sun criminal syndicate on the Republic capital.

After several months of non-cooperation from Skadge [Addendum: I blame Theron’s former associates.] [Note from Theron Shan: Keep your robe on, Beniko.], the Republic authorities eventually ordered him transported to their Omega Prison located on [NAME REDACTED: Eyes Only].

While en route to Omega, the Justice of the Republic, the freighter transporting Skadge and several other high-profile prisoners, was assaulted by parties unknown. All Republic officers and crew on the ship were killed in the fighting, along with all of the prisoners save for Skadge, who was reported missing. The ship itself was left adrift before eventually being discovered by a patrol three days later.

Republic SIS forensics teams have thoroughly examined the Justice of the Republic, but have been unable to conclusively determine the identity of the assailants. The ship’s computer banks were completely purged, along with all recording devices onboard. Most of the deceased were killed with blaster weapons commonly available on the underworld market. [Addendum: We theorize that the weapons were chosen based on the difficulty in tracing their origins.] Two of the guards show signs of having been savagely beaten to death, with analysis suggesting that they were killed by Skadge himself.

The only potential clue to the assailants identities was a security panel that had been blown out. The SIS analysis indicates the panel was destroyed via a lightsaber, suggesting the possibility of Sith involvement, or possibly a rogue Force-user from either the Jedi or the Knights of Zakuul. [Addendum: Our current analysis is that Empress Acina herself would not order such a provocative attack while the Sith Empire is still recovering from the war against Zakuul.] Even the Alliance has not been ruled out, given what the Republic sees as our “colorful” roster of operatives. [Addendum: For a government that so formally values diversity, the Galactic Republic can be surprisingly intolerant on such matters.]   

The Republic has classified the attack on the Justice of the Republic, at least until they identify the assailants. After the recent events on Iokath, the current Chancellor is eager to avoid provoking an incident with the Sith Empire without hard evidence. Certainly, it would feed the war-hawks in the Senate. The Alliance received most of this information from our informant [NAME REDACTED: Eyes Only].

Our preliminary determination, based on Skadge’s past encounters with yourself and his criminal dealings with Black Sun, is that he should be considered extremely dangerous, and a potential threat to Alliance personnel and operations. In addition, any faction with the resources and skill to extricate Skadge so discreetly without showing their hand is a cause for concern.

Potential suspects for the assault, which appears to have had the primary goal of rescuing Skadge, must begin with Black Sun, who Skadge worked extensively for off and on over the years. However, while Skadge might be a valuable operative for Black Sun, he also has a reputation as being dangerous and unpredictable. [Addendum: Quite frankly, they are probably better off without him.] Based on their recent setbacks and the resources necessary to conduct such an operation in the remote area of space the attack occurred in, Alliance Intelligence calculates less than a ten percent chance that they were the primary instigators of this incident.

Regardless, someone went to great lengths to rescue Skadge, and greater lengths still to conceal their identities. Given the Houk’s specific “skillset”, we must assume their intentions are unfriendly.

We have consulted with Xadya, Mako, Blizz and Gault concerning the potential whereabouts of Skadge. Their past association with the Houk make them some of the best-suited to aiding in his recapture. While none of them have thus far been able to offer any special insight on his plans, they certainly did not seem bothered by the prospect of working against him, ether. Xadya herself certainly seemed disappointed to learn that there were no active bounties on Skadge and asked me to inquire if you’d be willing to set a price.

For their own protection, we have informed all Alliance personnel who have a known ‘history’ with Skadge that he is free, beginning with Xadya and her crew and including Zale Barrows and Kayla Perlis from our Underworld Logistics section. We have also informed independent Alliance associates such as Linh and Juda.  

The only good news so far concerning Skadge’s whereabouts and activities seems to be that he is unlikely to find any sanctuary or assistance from the Hutt Cartel. If his recent Black Sun-related activities on Nar Shaddaa were not enough, Skadge is the same Houk who slew Nem’ro the Hutt and several dozen of his supporters in a massacre on Nal Hutta several years ago before the Zakuulan invasion.

As always, we will keep you informed of any further developments.

- Lana

Author’s Notes: More on Omega Prison another time. It is a concept of my own imagination.  

Zale Barrows later escaped from the Empire in my head-canon.

The slicer who wiped that ship’s computer was obviously very good. I wonder who that could be?  

Tagging! @raven-of-domain-kwaad @inyri @grandninjamasterren @berriku @taraum @pawsimses @theoasiswinds @defira85 @stars-ephemeral @jaxifye @plotbunny-bundle @theladynoir @velvetsunset @vexa-legacy @legacyofabsolutewalnuts @halibellecter @starknstarwars @a-master-procrastinator @anchanted-one @celith-wraine @greencrusader13

[cloneloverrrrr]

𝗘𝘅𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗲 - 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁 ⠀

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𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚:🔞 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗱𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

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𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗮𝘂𝗹 𝘅𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 , 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁, 𝗝𝗲𝗱𝗶 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 , 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗮𝘂𝗹 𝘅 𝗢𝗖 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗢𝗯𝗶-𝘄𝗮𝗻 𝗞𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗶, 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗬𝗼𝗱𝗮 , 𝗔𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿, 𝗤𝘂𝗶-𝗚𝗼𝗻 𝗝𝗶𝗻𝗻⠀

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𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5733

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𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗡 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗺 / 𝘀𝘂𝗯 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗲, 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗲, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗙! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗣 𝗶𝗻 𝗩 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲 / 𝗰𝘂𝗺 , 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻

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𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 @hellhound5925 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝘁 & 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵🙌🏻🫶🏻⠀

𝗗𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝗼 @idontgetanysleep 🥰

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𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 @hello-there-cyarika 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗮 𝗣𝗧 𝟮👀🫣

For my beautiful amazing friend @lune-de-miel-au-paradis I know how much you love Darth Maul, I know this has taken longer than expected but I wanted it to be perfect for you & I hope you love it🤍🤍

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Another long rather boring waiting period whilst your Master Obi-Wan Kenobi spent his time discussing the Sith Lords apprentice with the Jedi Council. As a padawan learner it was not something you were overly privy too unless Obi-Wan revealed certain details to you.

You had been rather on the annoyed side as today was your final day of tests before you were to become a Jedi Knight, but as your master always says duty calls and council duty comes first.

You incessantly fiddle with anything you can get your hands on, the clip to your lightsaber , your silky chestnut brown hair, all while deep in thought.

Finally for what seems like a lifetime Obi-wan appears from the grand doors of the council room , as he walks over to you a gentle hand rests on your shoulder pulling you away from your thoughts and back to reality.

“I sense a disturbance around you young one” his voice mellow, awaiting your response.

“Sorry Master I was just thinking about my tests…”

Before you can finish he cuts off you with his reassuring calm demeanour.

“You have all the time in the galaxy to take these tests but right now we are needed. It appears our old friend Darth Maul has been spotted, Master Yoda wishes us to confirm this.”

Darth Maul, the name sends a cold tingle down your spine. You know he was the one to kill Qui-Gon Jinn and you know deep down it is not the Jedi way to hold grudges yet you feel, even if it was only minuscule that your Master did indeed hold that grudge.

A few rotations later you and Obi-wan find yourselves on Tatooine, sifting through the bustling crowds. The sun blazing down upon you both as you made your way to the small saloon.

“Please do try to keep a low profile young one we are not to draw any attention to ourselves, our presence here may not always be welcomed”

You roll your eyes letting out a small chuckle knowing you would more than likely ignore your masters words and do your own thing. He has often told you how much you remind him of a young Anakin Skywalker.

Time passes yet neither you nor your master sense or see Darth Maul. Yet this odd niggling feeling overcomes you, as if you are being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stand on end and an alarmed emotion washes over you.

Was it the force or something more sinister?

Or was it just you loosing your mind on this maker forsaken planet of dust balls?

But you could hear it, the ever so faint whisper of the word exquisite almost like a rasping. No matter how hard you try , and by the force you are trying but you can’t seem to block out this whisper. Your heart began to race and that tingling feeling came back, but this was unlike before. No this one was burnt into you. A ghost finger trailing so softly up your arm towards your neck a gentle tug of the necklace you wear with pride.

A quick pinching off your forearm reminds you that your head needs to be on the game and focused. You are looking for Darth Maul, a night brother of Dathomir and a powerful Sith Lord.

But you feel it, you feel him boring into you. You gasp slightly in awe before slowly turning around glowing eyes capture you in what feels like a krykna web. His rich golden yellow eyes illuminate enough of his face covered by the hood of his inky black robes. He is beautiful yet sinister. His gaze upon you, watching you like you are his pray sends a hot flush to your cheeks. Turning to your master Obi-wan is your feeble attempt to break away from him and that smirk forming.

“Master….?” You say your voice in an almost whisper. You look over watching as your master adjusts the hood of his robes.

“I feel it too” he says, one hand placed on his chin as he was surveying the entire saloon. Both of you begin to make haste towards the doorway spotting the cloaked figure running out. But your chase for this mysterious being seems to have come to an abrupt stop. A dead end down an alleyway filled with nothing but a womp rat or two.

Physically you may of been alone but it seems the force was connecting you more and more with the son of Dathomir.

Again those whispers float all around you, sweeping through your very existence, filling your senses. No this must stop. You are soon to be a Jedi Knight and Jedi do not fall for such mind tricks by someone who was seduced to the dark side.In the orange glowing of the sunset you feel the hands of the force pulling you in, closer and closer until in the you make out two shapes, your master and the other one head to toe in black wielding an intimidating red double bladed lightsaber. His crown of horns poking through his hooded cloak.

“Obi-wan Kenobi we meet again” he says,a small sinister chuckle rumbles from his throat before forming up into his Form VI - Niman.

Watching as the two begin to stalk each other, neither backing down. A frustrations starts to bubble up from somewhere deep. Recalling your training and collecting yourself, you run over to the two without a second thought.

As you free your light saber from the clip of the belt cinched around your small waist, igniting the blade an Indigo blue halo forms around you. You block a strike that was headed straight for your master positioning yourself between the two men. As if morphing into one, you and the Sith Lord seem to become connected in ways you can’t begin to fathom. In synchronized movements, you exchange strikes once more. Your sabers collide again and again.

Blocking another blow, your hood falls from your head revealing a beauty Maul has never once witnessed in his life.

Your soft wavy hair gently blowing like delicate wildflowers in a summers evening field. Your pink plump lips pursed in pure concentration, the way your wide innocent eyes stare into his very existence showing no fear.

Almost as if time stopped, everything stood still. Every star planet in the galaxy came to a screeching halt, as the two of you stood there, lightsabers crossed, the red and indigo blades creating quite a stunning contrast as sparks fly.

His rich glowing eyes fixated on you, his heart began to race, the blood pumped through his veins and for a small moment you slit your gaze directly to the terrifying yet handsome Zabrak, your twinkling green eyes meet his red fire observance. That tingling feeling came back and overpowered every sense within you, shooting straight to your core. A feeling of fear yet prurience began rolling over you in waves. It takes you swift and sure. Only the sound of your Master’s voice dragged you back into the reality of the situation.

“I see you have met my Padawan” Obi-wan’s sarcastic tone fills the empty air before he takes on his usual Soresu style.

“Sarna look out!”

Obi-wan screams but to no avail a harsh blow strikes down against your saber causing you to fall back against the warm sandy foundations of Tatooine. Suddenly a dull tight feeling engulfs you. Unmoving with his inspection fully concentrated on you his mouth now cracked into an evil smile, your vision begins to blur, the air slowly being sucked out to you as you desperately claw at your throat in an attempt to yank the ghost hands away from you.

An anguished growl following a heavy thump to the harsh ground, you look over to see Maul clutching his arm, one last time his eyes survey over you, over your body then back to your fetching face.

And then he’s gone.

Instantaneously you find yourself back on Coruscant and back inside the walls of the Jedi Temple. Leaving your master with the council you take yourself off to your private quarters in hopes of some relaxation, some time to just cognizant those strange feelings that you’ve had with this Sith Lord.

Your body touched by the blush of the setting sun you lay back onto your bed, your hands restless your mind even more so.

You try and yet you cannot seem to fully let your mind be at peace, your body is full of rage and pent up frustration. Not something a Jedi should be feeling, not that is not allowed however more like something not to be openly discussed, but you are inflamed, your body longing for a release and a release you want him to fulfil, his chiselled handsome face, the feeling of his strong grip.

Your yearning for it- for him.

The wetness between your legs seeping out of your panties. Your pussy is aching. You lay your head back into the softness of your pillows squeezing them shut trying to think of anything to stop the urgency of your throbbing sex.

You feel fingertips achingly slow lightly running down your stomach all the way to your core, rubbing circles against your leather trousers each rub becoming more prominent than the last.

The fear you felt now put to shame by the desire sending shivers all over your body. His voice is back again just like on Tatooine, however this time brimming with sheer lust.

“Ah… the young Padawan… so beautiful so innocent “ he whispers.

You shoot your eyes open frantically darting around your small room, trying to place the voice to his face.

His voice is so regal, so harsh but maker you feel yourself so intrigued by it.

Physically your alone but he is with you somehow connected through the force. Suddenly you throw your hand upto your neck searching for your small pearl necklace your mother gifted you before you were taken to the Jedi Temple. She had always known the force was strong with you.

“Ah ah ah… finally noticed young one?” His voice sniggers coldly.

“Let me give you some advice young one- a Padawan should always be mindful of their surroundings, they should be able to feel when something is a miss..”

“It appears your Master has not naughty you well… Jedi…” he hisses.

“Get out of my head!” You spit sitting up on your bed your hands covering your head trying to ignore his voice and your lust filled thoughts. Your skin is prickling , your pulse quickening.

“Tsk tsk” he croons, almost as if you can feel his lips pressed against your neck and you can’t help by lolling your head back allowing the Sith Lord more access to your sensitive skin.

“But aren’t you curious young one?” His voice so taunting.

The way he manipulates the force to awaken this dark lust within you. The feeling of him gently nipping at your skin , another ghost hand delicately kneading at the soft flesh of your chest.

Before you can form a reply, the smallest of breathy moans leaves your lips. Your breath catches and your nails grip at your linen bed sheets.

“Curious about what?” You huff using all your will to stop this feeling you know is so wrong and goes against everything , the order, what you have dedicated your life to. You try in vain to push him away, yet he’s far too big, too powerful.

His large forearm now bracing your wrists together above your head with one hand, the invisible body over you so heavy you can’t squirm. The other ghost hand palming over your moist entrance pressing firmer as each second goes by.

“Everything” He is so close you feel his hot breath fan over your face.

Your gasps and soft moans are enough for him to continue his unseen exploration of your petite perfect body.

Those ghost fingers pull open at your trousers enough so he has access to your wet pussy he desires, slowly and feather light you feel beautiful pleasure begin to seep through you as he begins to rub your sensitive clit, gentle at first before the pace quickens.

Volts of filthy yearning flow over you in waves , his pace never relenting only becoming quicker.

“More- dont stop… please”

you mewl and moan bucking your hips up so desperately for more of his touch, so desperately wanting to feel his skilled fingers inside of you. Your climax ever so close to spilling out and engulfing your whole body.

“Ah yes. More?” His low sinister chuckle fills the room.

You feel the ghost finger tips slide down your sternum between your breast bone all the way to your centre. His touch is oh so galvanizing.

“Oh you exquisite thing, there is plenty of time for more, but now I have more pressing matters I must attend too”

As quick as it came his touch is now gone. You whine at the loss of his fingers working you so expertly.

The room now suddenly feels so empty and you can’t help but pathetically attempt to cover yourself up.

A racing heart and the bed around you cold in the dark night sky glow and all that is left is the lingering feeling is his large fingers. The feeling of sin gnawing away at you.

Yet you still want more.

Just as you considering finishing the job yourself there's a knock at your door. In panic you collect yourself before answering sheepishly

“Oh, hello Master. What can I do for you?"

Obi-wan scratches at his chin and for a moment and the panic that runs over your body wondering if he picked up on what went on just a few short moments ago is spreading like wild fire.

Raising a brow he drops his hand back to his side "it seems we are needed and will be leaving shortly”.

His tone of voice always has a way to calm you no matter what the situation.

You continue to push the thoughts out of your mind from earlier in the evening and take yourself to the fresher to get ready for the next mission, and for all the stars above you have no idea where you are going or what this mission entails.

From leaving the Jedi Temple , to the ride in the starship to finally landing back on Tatooine, maker you don’t know what it is but you have a strong dislike for this planet. The landing was smooth your master was a good pilot but not as good as Anakin Skywalker. Obi-wan knew the admiration you felt for Anakin. He was proud of you and of Anakin.

“Not a bad landing Master” you chuckle as the hiss of the door opening and the landing pad extends.

Obi-wan simply glances at you and rubs his hand over his chin once more.

“Now now Sarna, please keep your focus. We are to locate Darth Maul and by all means necessary bring him back to Coruscant to face trial”

You nod. “Yes Master” even you are surprised as to how calm you truly are.

“Keep your comms on, we are to meet back here by suns down” Obi-wan instructs you whilst adjusting his hood and departs off into the bustling streets.

For a brief moment you stand there and compose yourself scanning your surrounds until once again that rasping whisper floods your ears.

“Hello exquisite thing. Come to me. We have much to discuss on such little time” his regal commanding voice has you completely following his orders until you find yourself standing in front of a large durasteel door.

A quick whooshing sound and in the shadows you see him, the sight of him stood there now feels rather sinister, his crimson skin decorated with black tattoos , his rich yellow eyes glowing boring into yours. Under his black hooded robes you can make out his horns.

Silence.

That heat pools in your stomach dampening your core once more, yet you stand there as tall as you can trying your upmost best to not let him sense your fears…. And your lust.

“Do I frighten you?”

His rich and regal voice is striking.

Finally you remove your hood revealing your beauty once more to Maul. Standing there he begins to drink in all you have to offer. His eyes gaze up and down your body wrapped in your brown tunic and tight leather trousers.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me, I’m here to take it back and you are to be taken back to Coruscant”

A low rumble chuckle fills the once more silence.

“Young Padawan you may of course have this piece of jewellery back, please step in and I will hand it over to you”

A cruel smirk twists in his face, and those eyes roam over your chest partially peaking out from your tunic.

Slowly you step into the small room, one hand placed firmly on your lightsaber whilst the other twitches at your side. Trying so hard to compose yourself. Finally you stop in the centre of the room.

Maul begins to circle you achingly slow until he stops behind you, so close you can feel his breath fan over you. Your heart races and your core throbs

He leans into you his strong body pushed firmly against your back. You suck in an intake of breathe in the most quiet way you can, your hand still holding your lightsaber, a matter of life and death when you are in such close proximity to a powerful Sith Lord.

“Your thoughts betray you young one”

A raspy whisper in your ear before he gently places his lips on your bare flesh, kissing your neck so featherlight. Once again he manipulates the force and you feel your necklace back in place.

Each beat of your heart becomes louder and louder, faster and faster.

“I know what it is you desire exquisite one”

“And what is that Maul?” You turn around to face him, your pretty green eyes staring straight at him.

Silence.

Neither of you say a word for a few moments.

Maul sighs through his nose and for a brief second looks to the ground before looking back up at you, at your irresistible face and a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips and his eyes fill with lust.

“This”

Forcefully pushing you against the cold stone wall,he wraps his arm around your waist, while the other gently grabs onto your neck, his hold is robust as he kisses you hard. Your pussy throbs for him. You moan into his kiss, as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

The sound of his deep groans sparks that sweet sinful wetness between your legs once again, and all you crave is , for him to be close to you, on you, inside you.

The friction between your legs burning and burning you desperately pull him closer trying to feel anything you can, Maul senses this and presses into you even closer. You can feel the thick hardening of his cock straining against his trousers , against you. Your wet pussy is so needy for him and he knows this.

Oh stars you are fucking craving this.

Breaking away from the hot and heavy kiss, you rip at his own dark tunic pulling it and throwing to the other end of the room. His body is so toned so fucking sexy, filled with those black tattoos you can’t help but admire. You bite your bottom lip looking the Sith Lord directly in his eyes with an innocence he has such a need to destroy, and for a minuscule of a second you see a softness wash over his features, before he lunges back at you so desperate to feel you again.

Grinding against you hard, pushing into you he makes quick work of removing all of your clothing revealing your delicate olive skin, your small chest falls from your bra. If weren’t listening you would of almost missed his gasping as his eyes drink in your naked body.

He slowly gets onto his knees , his mouth devastatingly close to your glistening pussy, he is fixated on what he sees in front of him , his hands trailing over every inch of you, worshipping your body like a serene goddess.

“Open your legs” he commands in a voice you dare not to disobey.

And you do, you spread your legs wide and throw your head back against the wall as he begins to feast on you, like a man starved. His tongue working with such authority such virtuoso, lapping up your sweet juices. You whimper and moan as he sucks on your clit.

Sucking , biting and licking at your soaking pussy he does not stop he keeps going and going , his tongue begins fucking you while one hand works your overly sensitive clit you can feel the build up of your orgasm nearing. His moans of praise pushing you even further

“Ohhh - Maul yes I’m going to-“

He slows his tongue down and looks up at you placing a gentle wet kiss over your slit.

“Shhh I know” he hushes and with that slides two large fingers inside you pumping them in and out at a furious pace all whilst he suck’s on your clit.

“Mmm good girl you taste as exquisite as you look ”

Your body simply cannot stand it and you come undone. An overwhelming white hot sensation engulfs you. Shaking and sobbing with such beautiful rapture. You run your hands delicately over those sharp horns and pull him up to face you. That smirk is there yet not sinister more sensual.

Laying back into the small makeshift bed your hair splayed out , your perfect body glowing with a thin sheen of sweat unable to take your eyes off this incredible Zabrak you open your legs enough to allow him the access you are so thirsting for.

“Do you want this exquisite one?” His voice laced in passion.

You can only whimper out a shakey “yes” before you feel him sinking balls deep into you. Your arms tangle around each other , his pace slow, gentle allowing you to adjust to his immense size, you feel every rib, every vein as his pace picks up.

“Good girl you look ever so good beneath me”

“I am the only one who will fuck you like this exquisite one…” his regal voice continues to send that shiver down your spine.

“Mmmm Maul- ohh yes it’s only you”

Your needy whines and whimpers fuel his furious pounding into you.

Maul yanks your legs placing them up and onto his shoulders allowing him to reach into you even deeper.

He peppers your ankles with silky kisses before continuing his sedulous fucking.

He groans and starts to fuck you harder and harder, it feels so right yet so wrong at the same time. You feel a shadow of darkness engulf you if only for a brief movement. Looking up at him through your sex- drunk eyes you see him so close to his peak , he looks so beautiful his eyes begin to flutter as his pace falters you can feel him loosing control deep inside you. Wet erotic sounds of passionate yet filthy love making fill the air , your orgasm teetering so close to erupting out of you.

You pull him into you as he kisses and bites at your neck groaning lewd praises his hands firmly grabbing the soft flesh of hips, his guttural growls and his relentless fucking of your cunt sends you over the edge.

Crying out in sheer bliss you , you whine so pathetically for him coating his throbbing monstrous cock in your creamy cum. His arms never leave your shaking breathless body while his hips buck even harder into you splitting you in two.

“Ohhh Maul- yes oh stars don’t stop”

One final harsh thrust he groans and curses in his native tongue coating your sweet tight insides full of his seed. The sweet ache of him stretching you releasing himself within you, his burning hot skin against yours, his firm hold on you and his tender kisses in the crook of your neck sends a lightening bolt of white hot pleasure flowing throughout you, your pussy milking his perfect cock for as much as you can get. His warm cum drips out of your ruined pussy, slowly running down your thighs.

Laying by your side Maul gently rubs his fingers over your slit catching the cum as falls out of you. Watching your every move.

That dark sinister smile beaming at you as he plays with a sensitive nipple slowly rubbing both his and your release smoothly over your tits. Turning your head slightly looking at him with wide eyes blown with lust he places his sticky thumb onto your swollen lips , without hesitation you gently part your lips, sucking the sweet and tangy juices off of his thumb ever so divinely.

His eyes so smug, he can sense your thoughts.

“Mmm I believe you want more- yes?”

Running his fingers up the side of your thigh with his free hand, nails digging into your flesh, the sight of you pleading so desperate, he adores this. He takes such pleasure from this.

So achingly slow he slides two fingers inside you, your cum filled pussy taking his fingers easily, gasping as he enters you.

“Maul…” you sigh closing your eyes biting at your bottom lip trying to control the moans that are so close to spilling out of your mouth.

Taking him by surprise you grab his throbbing length and begin to pump him fast driving him crazy.

He growls at your touch and uses his free hand to take a fistful of your hair, and pulls your to face him. He wants to watch you come undone once more for him, to watch your beautiful face contort in the pleasure he brings you. Again and again his two fingers explore inside you until he finds that sweet sensitive spongy spongy spot that sends jolting piercing pleasure throughout you once more.

Your walls clench around his fingers as the intensity of your third orgasm rips through you. You work in sync with him pumping him tighter and faster until his cock twitches squirting thick ropes of warm cum over your hand and thigh.

He curses, removing himself from your grip to run his fingers down the side of your face.

Your soft sobs of dizzy gratification slowly begin to fade away as you steady your breathing. You feel a soft kiss upon your temple and for a moment the only sounds in the room are your breathing in unison.

“Exquisite one are you - … did I hurt you?” Suddenly realising how fragile you are laid under him.

Stuttering your words you can only muster a quiet “no”

Maul slowly pulls away from you to place his robe over the both of you as lays at your side gently holding you, a sense of calm and peace rush over you and you melt into his strong arms, drawling circles into his biceps with your fingers. The silence is just beautiful right now. You turn around to face him placing a gentle and upon his cheek, he slightly flinches at your touch but slowly he weakens and relaxes feeling your delicate hand so kindly caressing his face.

As a Sith Lord showing this affection it is weak, he could easily strike you down here and now yet he chooses to hold you, to make you feel alive yet deep down you know how wrong this is, and in this succulent moment you don’t even hear the door whoosh open.

“Sarna….” The disappoint in your Masters voice falls heavy on you, it feels like your heart is breaking.

Obi-wan stands there his face completely and utterly dismayed. Pure incandescent rage seeps into his blue eyes which bore into the sight of his Padawan, in the arms of a Sith Lord. His fingers twitch at the side of his lightsaber.

“Jedi..” Maul growls his wrath causes him to push his arm across as if you protect you from the galaxy and the evil within it.

“Let”

“Her”

“Go”

“Or this time I really will kill you Maul”

“Master! Please let me explain!” You beg and bundle past Maul in great need of trying to unravel this mess you have gotten yourself in.

It only takes you mere seconds to pull your clothing back on and race to your masters side.

“Leave… now!” Obi-wans stern voice brings you to shame , you turn to face Maul and voice a soft thank you before scuttling out of the room with your head hanging low.

The distant sound of a lightsabers clashing between your master and your unexpected lover cause nothing but affliction , your connection to the force seems so lost.

Then no more sounds spill out of the small room you and Maul had such intoxicating love making in, just silence. Deadly silence , in the distance you see a small starship zoom off into the distant sky and all you can think is thank the maker Maul is alive.

For what seems like several rotations your Master finally steps outside, glancing over at you scrutinising you before he finally speaks.

“We are to head back to Coruscant with immediate effect”

“We will speak of this to no-one , do you understand me?”

Not once have you felt Obi-wan so disenchanted. He cannot even look at you. The ride back is quiet, uncomfortable. You keep your fingers wrapped around your necklace the only thing that seems to be able to comfort you.

As soon as you touch down on Coruscant Obi-wan heads straight to the Jedi Council, your heart plummets and your stomach forms knots one cannot comprehend, you take the time to head to the gardens to mediate to try and dilute yourself. Feeling a strong presence behind you, a calm one…. Your Master.

“I have failed you Sarna”

“Just like I failed my own Master…-“ his voice trails off slightly before he regains his composure.

You blink back stinging tears, a your breathe out a deep sigh.

“You have not failed me Master, it is I who has failed you. Am I to leave the order?”

The tears glisten as they begin to fall down your rosy cheeks. Obi-wan catches sight of this and sits down next to placing his hand upon your forearm , his blue eyes twinkling in the orange glow of the setting sun.

“No my child you are staying right here, the force is strong with you and I have petitioned to the council for your tests, they take place next week, and even though I have not prepared for you this and I can only but apologise.”

“ You will become a fine Jedi Knight Sarna”

His smile brings warmth to your heart.

And with that you are left alone with your thoughts, making your way back to your quarters, you can feel him ever so slightly his regal voice whispering and repeating the same two words.

“Exquisite one”

Once back within the safety of your room you sit there dazed , confused, and that familiar heat building up in your core once more. Again your Sith lover manipulates the force and you feel ghost fingers trailing up your spine to nape of your neck.

A set of lips placing fine touch kisses down your throat. It takes much out of you but fight and fight his voice his touch. To remove them from your mind, from your body.

“Do you no longer like when I touch you?” His voice once more taunting you.

Silence.

“ Why have you forsaken me young one?” His voice cold yet you are sure there is a hint of sadness floating around in there.

“You are a Sith Lord Maul, you have been tempted and fallen to the dark side. You are weak yet you believe you are strong. You will forever be forsaken in my eyes and the eyes of many” your words strike him deeper then he could ever imagine.

Your eyes fill with tears once more, a lump in your throat forms and it becomes so difficult to swallow, your heart feels sorrow. Standing in front of the mirror in your room you brush over the bruises and bites left only a day ago, by someone you never thought would take ahold of your heart in such a profound way.

“Why do you weep?” His rich , regal voice you’ve grown fond of is so gentle tugging at the strings of your heart.

“Leave me!” You snap turning away to face your small window, gazing out on the neon glowing night of Coruscant.

“I am unable to ever hear your voice again, to ever see your face unless to bring you to justice for the crimes you have committed. The Sith cannot be allowed to resurface”

“Now go Maul” the way you brush him off so nonchalantly breaks your heart piece by piece.

For a very brief moment you can feel his pain, his anger seething inside of him burns into your veins your very existence.

The wretched hollow ache you feel causes you to howl out a mix of cries and curses. You hold onto the small necklace you dote on so deeply , turning back to the mirror once more, your eyes judge over the feeble mess you have now become. The tears stream down your face, the saltiness tainting your lips, settling on your tongue. You hold yourself with your arms repeating the same words over and over.

“I will not be tempted”.

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