#jedi knight filter

[jypsyvloggin]

How to get the Mortal Kombat ai filter on TikTok?

How to get the Mortal Kombat ai filter on TikTok? #mortalkombat

How to get the Mortal Kombat ai filter on TikTok? @walidyari 🤩🤩😂🙌🏽 وحش الاخير ♬ original sound – Rememberthe80sn90s Tiktok Challenges are a good opportunity to get new followers. By joining a trend, you can benefit from the general interest. I have introduces you to a few of the past Tiktok challenges and given you tips on how to participate. Now it’s time for the Mortal Kombat ai…

[kemendin]

This went from my brain to photoshop to tumblr in the span of about three minutes, I take no responsibility

[cactuswaterscactusfields]

Him.

I wrote this instead of sleeping. I have no regrets. Reader is femme coded and 18+.

OR

When you find yourself accidentally walking in your Master, Anakin Skywalker, you're affected more than you think. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, so was he.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff (just the tiniest bit tho), this is filthy, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm, Forced Orgasm, Bathroom Sex, dirty thoughts, Force Mind Reading, Breaking the Jedi Code (fuck the Jedi code), Hand and Finger King (squint and you'll see it), Sex Pollen, Muscles, and an Alien planet.

crossposted here on ao3

Thank you to Rio and Cilantro for inspiring this and also being there as I wrote it. You guys are the best!

All you can think about is him. Him. With those water beads running down that sinfully muscular bare chest, that tiny white towel covering his waist, just barely disguising the girth of his member, those muscular legs that could crush you in bed..maker, what is wrong with you? You quickly turn to leave the fresher, of course, you didn’t mean to walk in on him. You’re just his padawan, you’re just his student. You’re nothing more. You can’t have feelings, you’re a Jedi. What would the other padawans think? What would they think of you, having these thoughts about your master, the Anakin Skywalker, about the man supposed to be training you? You look around as you push the door of the fresher open, the pink sky of some alien planet other than Coruscant gleaming above. You pause.

Sweet. Like flowers. Like warmth, straight to your core, you can feel your heartbeat in your center, pounding away. God, your panties are so slick they’re borderline soaked. There’s some kind of pollen in the air, and you lift your hand towards it. The gentle green grains settle on your palm, bright against the sky, vibrant against your skin. Is this some plant’s pollen? Your inner academic calls to you, ask your master! He’d know–

That’s right. Your naked master, with his massive muscles, bare less than ten feet from you, you could turn at any moment and see him again, surely it wouldn’t hurt, right? Surely it wouldn’t hurt to see him fresh out of a hot, steamy shower, drying that delicious sandy blonde hair of his, removing that towel from his waist to change, that rippling scar against his perfect face, surely it wouldn’t…

No.

You’re a jedi. You’re soon to be a knight. Your whole life, you have studied and prepared, prepared to fight for the Republic, prepared to die for the cause you were born with. You cannot lose your way. The code is life. No attachments, the code reads out, clearer than a Nabooian summer day. No attachments. Not to your master, not to your life, not to the things you find..so deliciously attractive. 

You shake your head, trying to clear it again, and continue walking..before a warm, strong, perfectly tanned hand wraps around your waist, pulling you backwards, further, further, and you’re suddenly in the fresher, the door sliding shut silently in front of you, and you’re pressed into the wall, steel and ice cold against your cheek, and the hand around your middle begins to fiddle with the wraps holding your robe together. “You should really keep your thoughts to yourself, padawan.” His voice is so perfectly baritone, so perfectly deep against your ear, the hot breath of his voice whispering past your ear and sending earthquakes to your core. You can see out of the corner of your eye, more of that strange green pollen filtering in through the air vents, and his other hand presses your face further into the wall, icey and so, so hot, the perfect juxtaposition that rocks your mind.

 “Fuck the code.” He finally finishes pulling the straps of your robes apart, sliding them down your shoulders, revealing more and more of your skin until all that is left is your chest wrap and underwear. His hand slides up from pinning your head, and it coils itself into your hair before twisting and gripping and pulling. Maker, his blue eyes burn themselves into your retinas, filled with a fire you’ve never seen before, filled with a light that you never imagined you’d be able to experience. It’s feral. Inhuman, with darkness and desire in his eyes, with those slightly pointed canines of his glinting in the light, as he runs his tongue across his lips. 

“Maker, you’re gorgeous. You have no kriffing idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He runs his hand up your chest, before running his thumb along your bottom lip and pushing. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, and you immediately begin to wet them with your tongue. They taste like warmth, gunsmoke, like a thousand memories left unsaid, like a thousand salty tears caught. Maker, he tastes absolutely divine.

He pulls them out, a slight string of saliva connecting his fingers to your lips, and he looks down before growling at the sight of your still-covered core. He flicks his hand, and the underwear rips to shreds.

The back of your mind laments at the loss of a nice pair of undergarments, but it’s quickly replaced with a blazing hot need as he lowers his fingers, closer, closer, Maker they’re right there, and..he stops. 

“Padawan..we shouldn’t do this.” His voice, no longer animal and rumbling, less a tsunami and more a gentle entering tide, moves away from your ear.

“Master, I…” Your voice, reduced to the tiniest little whine, sounds strangely far from your ears. 

“It’s the pollen. My master, Obi-Wan, had told me about pollens on certain planets that could negatively affect how a soldier performs, and even affect us Jedi, but...I didn’t know this would be what he meant.” His hands start to slide away from you, but before you think, your hands secure themselves around his, keeping him pressed against you, wrapped around you.

“P-please. Don’t-don’t..don’t let go..” You whimper out, and he growls, deep in his chest and throat. You can see that green pollen swirling in the air again, and it flows into your nose, down your throat, into your lungs before you can even think. Maker, you’re so hot. You’re burning up, like someone tossed you into a volcano and the only escape is your master absolutely ruining you. It doesn’t look like it’s affecting him any less, you can feel something absolutely rock hard pressing into your back, right into the triangle bone below your spine, just above your ass.

“P-Padawan. We-we really..fuck…oh, fuck the code..” He snarls into your ear, re-coiling his hand into your hair, pulling back, and his fingers quickly find your entrance before pushing.

Oh maker, you’re so full. The stretch of his thick fingers is almost painful, and he pushes further, further, you’re so full, you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t see, oh maker. And then he begins to rub, his thumb pressing right on your clit.

You feel like you’re out of the galaxy. His fingers are pressing right against the spot that makes you cry, that makes you sob with need, that makes you moan his name as if it’s a prayer to the only maker you’ve ever needed to believe in. Maker, his fingers are too big, there’s no way they’re going to fit, you feel so tight. 

And then it spreads. The tingling, flickering like fire all over your body, down to the tips of your fingers, up your hands, up your arms, closer and closer to your core, you feel like you’re running toward a cliff edge, sprinting closer, closer, closer, the band in your stomach tightening, tightening, and then you jump.

Maker, it’s like you’re flying, for a moment, and then you explode.

Like electricity soaring out from an arc tower, like a volcano erupting across a massive landscape, fusion at the seismic level, the white-hot pleasure races through your body, crackling and rushing, like a massive hurricane smashing into the dams and barriers of your Jedi core. Falling, falling, falling for what feels like an eternity, as wave after wave after wave breaks through you, crushing you, shockwaves out across the room, the base, the planet, the whole universe. You’re alive. Like the whole of the force flows through you, you’re alive. So, so, beautifully present, like the whole of the Jedi Council could burst in at any moment and it wouldn’t affect how happy you are. The pleasure is indescribable, spreading from his fingers through you, to the whole world. Your heart beats to the drum of your shocks, loving and so, so aware yet unaware. His fingers slow, you can tell from somewhere, and the volcano finally starts to cool. 

You finally feel yourself starting to return to your body, your whole body cooling, breathing, maker, you’ve never felt so alive.

“That was gorgeous. You have no idea how beautiful your force signature was, Padawan.” He purrs into your ear, and you feel your cheeks redden impossibly further. He removes his fingers, and they’re covered in your clear, salty juices. He brings them up to his lips, before licking. He licks his fingers clean, before smiling and pulling you back from the wall, twisting you to face him, and finally releasing you

Jellylegged, you collapse into the wall, sliding down, and you look up at him. Maker, he’s so perfect. Rock hard, his member is huge. He crouches down to eye level, before running his thumb softly across your cheek.

“My padawan. Meet me tonight in the bunks. Don’t be seen.” He smiles that fanged smile, sending another shock to your blissfully used core. 

“Y-y..yes, master.” You giggle out, and he shakes his head chuckling.

“Just one orgasm, and you’re already reduced to a blubbering mess? What will I ever do with you, beautiful?” He presses his lips to your forehead, and for the first time in decades, you feel loved.

He starts to pull your robes back around you, affixing them and tying their straps, before helping you slowly stand. He runs his hand through his hand, and aside from the occasional green pollenite specks, he looks..normal. He pulls his robes and armor on, already back to the honorable and powerful Jedi Knight that padawans and separatists alike fear.

You, on the other hand, are nowhere near that. Your hair is everywhere, your face flushed, your clothes still messy and lopsided, and your eyes are…so glassy. 

“Clean yourself up, Padawan. I need to go make sure Jesse hasn’t killed someone yet.” He turns to leave, before looking back at you one last time, those gorgeous blue eyes leaving you so, so hungry for more.

[vixenmulder]

Early Morning Comforts

Summary: Reader wakes up in bed with Yord. Very fluffy

Warnings: Kissing

Word count: 1500

—————

Y/N slowly drifts awake, her senses coming to life one by one. She becomes aware of a weight wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she takes a moment to orient herself. Realizing she's securely enveloped in Yord's embrace, a sleepy smile spreads across her lips.

Yord, still slumbering, had wrapped his arms tightly around her during the night, his chin resting comfortably on her shoulder. His breaths are warm and steady against her neck, gently stirring her hair.

As Y/N gradually becomes fully lucid, she takes stock of her surroundings. The morning sunlight filters softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden light. The scent of Yord's skin mingled with the smell of freshly laundered sheets fills her nostrils, sending a shiver of affection through her.

She can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the slow rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing reassurance of his presence. His arms remain firmly wrapped around her, holding her close as if even in sleep he couldn't bear the thought of letting her go.

Y/N allows herself a moment to enjoy the feel of Yord's body against hers, his embrace offering a sense of comfort and security. She can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the heat of his breath and the subtle scent of him enveloping her senses.

Y/N turns slightly, shifting so she can look up at Yord's face. His features are relaxed in sleep, the usual intensity of his expression replaced by a rare vulnerability. She can't help but smile at the sight, contentment flooding her chest.

His brow, usually creased in concentration, is now smooth and untroubled. His lips, usually pressed into a firm line, are parted slightly, forming an inviting curve. She can't help but find him impossibly handsome in this unguarded moment. The soft lines of his face, the dark lashes resting against his cheeks, and the slight pout of his lips. In this moment, he looks younger, almost boyish, without the usual weight of responsibility and seriousness that he carries as a Jedi knight.

As she looks at him, a warm affection fills her chest. She knows that this side of Yord - the gentle, caring one that most people never see - is strictly reserved for her. The thought fills her with a sense of privilege.

Tentatively, she reaches up and gently brushes a strand of hair away from his forehead. His skin is warm and smooth under her touch, and she finds herself fighting the urge to run her fingers through his hair.

Y/N's hand lingers on Yord's forehead, her fingertips tracing the contour of his brow before trailing down to cup his cheek. She's struck by the vulnerability he shows in sleep, a side of him normally hidden beneath his stoic exterior.

As her fingers brush against his skin, Yord's eyelashes flutter, and his eyes slowly open. He blinks blearily, disoriented for a moment before his gaze meets her's. A soft, drowsy smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he registers her presence in his arms.

Yord's eyes focus on her face, his gaze softened by sleep. His arm around her waist tightens slightly, pulling her closer to his chest as he fully wakes up. "Good morning," he mumbles, his voice gravelly and low.

Y/N can't help but grin at the sight of him, his usual stern demeanor temporarily replaced by a sleepy, affectionate expression. She props herself up on an elbow, her hand still resting on his cheek. "Hey," she replies, her voice equally soft.

Yord's gaze flickers to the hand on his cheek, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He turns his head slightly, nuzzling into her palm. "You're still here," he mumbles, his eyes drifting closed again.

Y/N's heart skips a beat at the sight, the simple gesture making her stomach flutter. She chuckles softly and quirks an eyebrow at his comment, her grin widening. "Where else would I be?" she teases, running her fingers lightly across his jaw.

Yord's hand moves lazily from her waist to rest on her hip, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt. He studies her face, his gaze warm and gentle. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead gives a soft chuckle, his hand sliding under her shirt to rest against her bare skin. His touch is light and soothing, his fingers tracing a gentle path along her spine.

Y/N shivers slightly at his touch, her skin prickling with awareness. She leans in closer to him, her eyes sparkling with humor. "You thought I'd ditch you, huh?"

Yord's hand continues to roam over her side, his touch both possessive and comforting. "No no, I thought you might have slipped out of bed before I woke up," he admits, his voice still gruff with sleep.

Y/N chuckles softly, her hand coming up to thread through his hair. "And miss out on this?" she teases, giving his hair a gentle tug.

“Lay your head back down.” Yord says lightly, but Y/N shakes her head still looking at him “I don’t want to”

Yord pretends to pout, feigning offense at her words. "Hey, now. I thought I made for a pretty comfortable pillow."

Y/N laughs, her fingers continuing to card through his hair. "You did," she concedes. "But I like looking at your face too much to go back to sleep."

Yord's expression softens, his gaze warming at her words. He brings his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw.

As Yord's hand cups her cheek, his fingers brushing gently over her skin, there's an unmistakable tenderness in his touch. His eyes roam over her face, his gaze filled with a mix of affection and something more subtle, a quiet intensity that betrays his feelings.

"You’re beautiful." he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

Y/N blushed and tried to turn away but Yord's hand slides up from her jaw to the back of her neck, gently tugging her down toward him. His lips find hers, the kiss soft and unhurried.

Y/N melts against him, all the playful banter replaced by something more intimate. Her hand moves from his hair to rest on the side of his neck, her fingers tracing his pulse point.

As their lips move together, the kiss deepens, their bodies shifting closer. Yord's arm around her waist tightens further, pulling her flush against his chest. His fingers splay out against her lower back, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her shirt.

Y/N's hand slides up from his neck to caress his cheek, her touch light and feathery. She can feel the stubble on his chin scrape against her palm, a delightful contrast to the softness of his lips.

Y/N breaks the kiss for a moment, pulling back slightly to take a breath. But Yord doesn't let her get far, his hand at the back of her neck holding her firmly in place. He presses his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips.

"Stay," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Just a little longer."

Y/N nods, her eyes closing as she melts against him once more. Her body fits perfectly against his, the warmth of his skin seeping into hers. She presses a kiss to his jawline, then to his neck, her lips mapping out his skin. “Y/N?” He asks quietly.

Y/N groans, stirring in her sleep as she hears a faint voice calling her name. She's half-conscious, trying to hold onto the remnants of her dream.

"Y/N," the voice repeats, a little louder this time. "Wake up, you overslept."

She blinks her eyes open, slowly adjusting to the real world. Y/N sees a figure standing in the doorway of her room, the morning light silhouetting their form. As her vision clears, she recognizes her best friend Yord standing there.

"There you are," Yord says, both irritation and amusement in his voice. "Finally decided to rejoin the land of the living, huh?"

Y/N sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes groggily. "What time is it?" she mumbles, still half-asleep.

"Late enough that you missed breakfast," Yord replies. "And your alarms went off like crazy, but you slept right through them."

Y/N frowns, now fully awake and aware of her oversleeping. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier then?" she asks, her voice still laced with sleep, she ducked her head to hide her cheeks burning with embarrassment, his face reminding her of the dream she had.

Yord leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. "I tried," he says, his tone nonchalant. "You were out cold. I wasn't going to risk getting my hand bitten off by shaking you awake."

Y/N groans again, flopping back onto her pillow. "Sorry," she mutters sheepishly. "I was having a dream."

Yord leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Must have been some good dream."

Y/N blushes lightly, remembering the details of the dream. She pushes the memory away, sitting back up. "Yeah, it was..." she trails off, a small smile tugging at her lips.

[faexfilms]

What You See in the Shadows

Summary: After Anakin comes to you for comfort in the middle of the night, you find yourself in an awkward situation when you wake up next to him the next morning. And now, he’s committed to taking you for everything he’s ever wanted from you…

Warning: Fingering, degradation, etc.

Word Count: 3.7k

You turned over in your sleep, shifting comfortably on top of your bed as warmth seeped into your skin from the sun shining through your windows. Your eyebrows furrowing when orange filtered into the darkness behind your eyelids. Taking you away from your peaceful dreams and into reality.

It was another minute until your eyes opened, glaring at the incessant sun gleaming in from the window adjacent to you. Cursing at it as the sunlight streamed across your face and into your half lidded eyes that begged for another moment of sleep.

It was then when you felt another presence next to you. A small disturbance in the force that usually surrounded the early mornings in your room hiding away before Obi-Wan came to get you for training. A very familiar disturbance.

Another small curse escaped your lips when you saw Anakin's sleeping form right next to you, startling you.

It was late last night when he had walked through your door completely silent, shuffling his feet across your floor. Making his way over to you as you sat in bed, completely avoiding the question in your eyes and the slight uneasiness you felt by the random intrusion. Only focusing on your face as he sat beside you.

You could see the defeated look on his features. How dejected and absolutely tired he seemed. His hair was in a disarray as if he had been raking his fingers through it over and over, thoughts running rampant through his own mind.

It was then when you noticed the single tear sliding down his cheek.

You never were one for comforting others. Showing emotions and helping others deal with their own struggles was never something you excelled in no matter how much you would try to ease others pain so seeing Anakin in such a way made you freeze.

He had never been open like this with you, had never cried or sought guidance about his sorrows. Never did he seek comfort for the weight on his soldiers weighing him down.

It was only a single minute but that time felt like endless hours. Frozen in place. The air struggling to leave your lungs as you stared at your friend, a brave Jedi knight, a man who had been there for you and saved you more times than you could ever begin to recount. A man that does anything and everything to protect and shield those who he loves from harm And most of all,  one that you cared so incredibly for finally letting his guard down in front of you. Letting the cracks of the 'chosen one' shine their light onto you. His visage of which could only be described as someone incredibly lost, buried deep within the current of their own sorrows. Every weight toppling down on them. That feeling of unabashed helplessness. Begging for any ounce of anything else.

His pleading eyes looked in your direction but you could tell his mind was completely somewhere else. In a faraway land that he couldn't help but grasp, feelings that he couldn't shake refusing to leave him. His eyes watered more, unshed tears wavering and overflowing. Threatening to spill down his cheeks.

Anakin looked like he was almost trying not to break apart in front of you. Barley hanging onto his sense of self, his pride, his whole semblance of how he was taught by the council to feel and cope. The very Jedi inside of him crumbling to bits.

It didn't take a fool to see the shame coming off of him in waves. With every second you sat frozen in front of him, he looked more and more hopeless.

A struggled gasp escaped his throat as more tears slid down his face and you were making your way over to him in an instant. Grasping your trembling hands around his body. Your own tears threatening to spill as you held him close to your chest.

You had never seen him this way. Felt him so shaken, so separated within your hands. Hands that held tightly around him unwilling to let him go. You could only hope to ease the pain. You could only hope for the warmth of your body to his own shell of a person would be enough for him to know he wasn't alone. He would never be.

He made a small sound as he wrapped his own hands around you. Holding onto you for dear life. Finally letting his worries crumble away and allowing himself a moment to breathe. To finally feel you holding him in a way he had wished from you for so long. To feel the closeness between both of you in a way you both hadn't before.

It wasn't long before his eyes fluttered open.

His deep blue eyes settled on your own as his body layed almost unmoving, the steady rise and fall of his chest being the only indication that he was still with you. Still close to you, breathing. Alive. Anything that reminded you he was here and that he was real. That last night was more than a figment of your imagination.

You guys had been instant friends since Obi-wan and him stumbled upon you on one of their missions. Tearing you away from a path of vengeance on a lower being who had taken someone dear to you. Giving you a new path to follow. One as a Jedi, another padawan for Master Kenobi. One who submitted themselves to the rules the council abade them to follow. Drilled all the very same lessons and teachings about certain emotions leading you down a path to the dark side. No anger. No fear. Compassion. Aiding and abiding orders. No attachments.

It wasn't exactly surprising that you found it hard to obey that rule.

The more you trained under Obi-wan Kenobi, the closer you got to Anakin Skywalker. In the time you spent with the both of them you could feel yourself slowly teetering off that edge.

The times you spent poking fun at both your Jedi master and his other young padawan. Laughing as Anakin's face changed and swayed as you teased him. Cackling together when Obi-wan could do nothing more than scold his young padawans who had now became Knights for failing to hold themselves together and poking fun at their superior. Smiling when you caught your Jedi master hiding that smile of his.

The times you spent speaking with him in the temple gardens as you both fed your fingers through the grass. Swapping stories of childhood memories, of regrets and mistakes, laughs and dreams you both held dear to our heart. His on Tatooine and yours on a faraway planet. Much too far for you to call home.

It was hard not to feel that magnetic pull to him. Like a moth to a flame it drew you closer, beckoning for you to follow. The force channeling its will through the both of you. The electricity that thrummed under your skin when you and Anakin found your way in close quarters. Seated on the ship, fighting side by side on a mission, trying your very hardest to beat him in combat(though neither of you wish to confirm who was the true winner when you found yourself inches from his body. Waves of heat flowing from you. Heat radiating between the two of you. Almost unbearable)

It wasn't the Jedi way

All of that feeding into delusions of intimacy was wrong. Imagining the what ifs and what coulds of every instance in which we were left alone. Unsupervised. How it would finally feel...

It wasn't the Jedi way

How many times you had to keep ingraining that into your too stubborn head.

Yet here you were.

A silence had drifted over the both of you. Eyes staring, drilling into one another. No one moving to make any small difference.

Initially his presence had spooked you...

It took a few seconds for the previous night to replay within your mind. You didn't know what to expect then and now there was no difference.

Anakin looked nothing of the the man who had stormed his way into your room late last night. The other looked broken. Lost. A whole storm brewing behind silent eyes yet this one was anything but. There was a certain calm that enveloped his body. A buzz that thrummed in the air around him and into you. A newfound focus and calamity. It was nothing  you knew to describe.

The sun billowed around his unruly dark curls through the blinds, shadowing parts of his face from total view but you could still see him. His bright eyes still focused on you. Sensing you...Reading you. Taking you in.

The light hung high over his head, sprouting farther up the walls, traveling and branching out from whence it came. Brightness overtaking the outline of his form.

He almost looked like an angel.

You guys were inches apart, your bodies intertwined in your wide bedspread you must have pulled over the both of you half-asleep not even remembering he was there.

You guys were never this close like this. Never.

You could feel your cheeks warm at the realization and embarrassment of the entire situation. You didn't even know what he was thinking. Why he hadn't backed away or why he hadn't made more space between the two of you. Why he kept staring at you like that...

It was another half a minute before he shifted, his head easing backwards a ways. A small curl making its way into his eyes before he moved again, pushing it from his vision. Angling his neck differently so he could get a better look at you. Almost inching a little bit closer to you.

You moved your head on the pillow, looking back at him. Trying to figure out what sort of game he was playing if it was any game at all.

His eyes traveled across your face, taking in your features in a way you had never seen him do. Outlining the lines of your eyes, following the curve of your nose. Glancing at your lips. Putting you together in his mind like the pieces of a puzzle. A small smile at the corner of his lips.

"You're so...beautiful..." He whispered

A part of you was screaming warning signs within your mind. Telling yourself to get up, to inch away. That this isn't a game you should play. But another part of you needed to wait it out. Begged and pleaded for one more second this close to him. For one more second in which you could imagine yourself finally closing the gap between you two.

His eyes looked down at your lips briefly before he brought his flesh hand up to the side of your face, brushing your cheek softly. His gaze not leaving you. His touch sending shivers down your spine. The emotions in his eyes as he stared over at you made your stomach turn. You could feel the biological yearnings of your human body trying to take over but you were a Jedi. You knew better.

You sat up in bed, his hand leaving your cheek as your hair caressed your shoulders. Your body now on full alert, thoughts running rampant in your mind.

His body followed yours as he sat in your bed as a well before you.

"Anakin..." You warned softly, telling him not to go further. A part of you was so confused. He had never acted this way before. Been so domineering in the way he was with you, had he sought out such physical affection. But right now, there was no question of the way you felt for him. The way you know you shouldn't feel. The burning pit in the bottom of your stomach set aflame by just his eyes on yours. This closeness with him....You already felt as if you were losing your mind.

His eyes didn't change at your hesitancy, his hand making it way back against your skin. The warmth of his fingertips brushing your cheek making your body ease slightly back from him. His eyes fixated on your full lips as his thumb brushed your chin gently. Just grazing your bottom lip experimentally before he pulled it down with the pad of his thumb. Watching as your pretty mouth parted at his touch. Only moments passing before he brought his lips to yours, not being able to hold himself back any longer. Even with his fingers on your face, his thumb against your lip. His eyes focused on you, yourself being so in the moment, you gasp as he finally closes the distance between you. Gasping at the feel of his soft lips against your own, the fire burning through your body at his very touch. How he ignited it so easily...

He kissed you like you were oxygen. Like he was swallowing you whole, tasting every part of you. As if you were the only thing he needed to live. There was such a passion to him. Such a need for you that drove you insane. That erupted goosebumps against your skin like no other. You couldn't bring yourself to fight it anymore.

You kissed him back eagerly, tasting his lips against yours. Feeling as his tongue brushed your bottom lip, begging from more. His hands clinging to your body, pulling you into him. Needing you closer. Desperately needing to feel you.

His fingers caressed the bare skin of your back through your Jedi robes, undoing them with such ease. Feeling your bare skin. Imagining what it felt like against his. Finally having you after so long.

This was like a dream.

Like those instances you couldn't stop yourself from thinking of when you lied awake in bed at night. Except it was real...

His hands ripped away your Jedi robes as your fingers removed his vest. Your lips still on his as you guys moved at a speed that seemed too fast to even be real. The passion overtaking you as his hands caressed the bare skin of your back as he pulled you onto him. The heat of his hands melding with the heat of your own body as you didn't let your lips part. Needing the taste of him, committing it to your memory. Telling yourself you would never be without it now, knowing that you couldn't be.

Now that you had him, you couldn't let him go. Months, if not even years of fantasies and longing glances finally bringing yourself to this moment. Your hands longing to feel the warmth of his skin, his beautiful lips against your own. And now you had finally touched heaven.

Felt it against your lips, a fire burning between both of you as you messily discarded of each others clothes. Rushing fingers undoing whatever fabric they could as Anakin's fingers wrapped around your bare waist. Creeping up your back to undo your bra as your fingers settled against his neck. Brushing the warm skin softly before your fingers made their way into the hair at the nape of his neck. Gasping softly as you rocked down against him. A struggled breath escaping his lips as his hard cock rubbed against your heat through his slacks, feeling you even through the material between your bodies. Wanting you even more.

You didn't know if you could even take it anymore. Your heated eyes trained on Ani's as you lifted your hips slightly, his hands digging into your hips as he looked down at your heat. His fingers playing with the band of your underwear, his eyes focused on what he wanted the most. Playing with the idea of sinking his lips against your needy cunt. Tasting your juices on his lips. Burying himself so far into you, his hips meeting your own. Images flashed within your own mind from his, a small satisfied look on his face as he did that on purpose. Your hands pulled his pants off enough you looked back up again. The lewd images that Anakin played in your mind making your throat burn as you looked at him. Breathless and surprised that he could even be this way. Your lips parted slightly as his eyes trained on yours as his fingers ghosted over your slit through your underwear. Your eyes fluttering as he pushed his thumb against your bud through the material , emitting a soft moan from you.

"Already so needy for me..." He taunted with a little smirk on his face. His pupils blown wide as he stared at you. His fingers teasing you a little more as he chuckled softly and stared into your eyes. Watching your face as he touched you, knowing just how right he was, feeling him where you wanted him the most but still so desperate for more.

He pushed your underwear aside as he covered his fingers in your slick. Touching your bare cunt for only a moment before he plunged two fingers into you, making you moan in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Feeling his fingers scissor inside of you as he stretched you out for him. Your spongy walls pulling him needily, his eyes falling to where he entered you. His dick twitching at just imaging that around him, desperate to feel you. To cover himself in your sweet little juices.

"You need me to fill you up, don't you baby? Need my cock in your pretty little hole?" He asked softly, his seductive eyes trained on you as your hips involuntarily rocked slowly against his fingers. Your breathing increasing as he moved his digits inside of you slowly. Another soft moan falling from your lips. You couldn't handle this...He was being so lewd, so seductive in the way he was with you. Pulling you apart with his fingers. Using your body for his own pleasure in the way that made you almost like putty in his hands. He wanted to see you tremble against him, he wanted to make you feel slightly humiliated when he played with you. Masterful in making you fall apart before you barely got started.

His fingers massaged that deep spongy spot inside of you before he pushed his fingers into you again, settling a slow pace as he watched your face. Smirking softly as you let out struggled breaths at the pleasure coursing through your body. Him hitting that spot inside of you that made you absolutely desperate. "Ani..."

You begged, your eyebrows creasing slightly as he arched his fingers inside of you, pushing into you further. His thumb ghosting of your clit as he penetrated you.

"Say please" He smiled teasingly as he looked down at you. His eyes half-lidded as he fixated on your body, your lips. His focus on making you feel everything he did to you. You didn't understand the effect you had on him. How he so desperately needed this, needed you all the time. You could see it now..., how long Anakin had wanted you. Thought of you like this. Imagined your thighs settled around his hips as he thrusted his hard cock in his hand imagining it was your pretty little pussy when it all got too much. How much he cared for you. He wasn't going to let you go now...

His fingers continued his assault on you, feeling you clench around him as he circled your clit with his thumb, continuing to enter you. You could feel yourself already close, the impending euphoria hanging over your head as he pleasured you more and more. Making you fall apart into a moaning mess. "Anakin, please..."

He smiled as he knew what you were begging for but he continued moving his fingers inside of you, settling a brutal pace as looked down at him inside of you. Your juices against his fingers as his tongue settled against his bottom lip. Begging to just taste you, to feel your pussy against his lips. But he knew what he wanted right in this moment first, and that was for you to come against his hand.

Your eyes clenched shut as he brought his lips to your neck, feathering light kisses before biting your soft skin. Easing the little bruises with his tongue as you were breathless against him. Feeling yourself clench around him again and he moved relentlessly into you. Yourself tensing slightly as you couldn't hold it back anymore, feeling yourself succumb to the waves of pleasure that washed over you, a euphoric haze clouding your body as you moaned his name.

He loved the way you already looked fucked out as you came down from the high. The way your hair messily caressed the sides of your face, falling down your bare shoulders. Almost all of your skin on display for him as you looked into his eyes, relaxing against his body. His arm wrapping around your waist as he held you to him, his other hand gently caressing the side of your warm cheek as he looked at you deeply. Pulling your lips to his as a reward for being so good for him. His soft lips breathing in your own in a gentle kiss.

Out of all of this, that's what took away your breath more.

All of the emotions behind the gentle kiss, the love he shared with you as his lips met your own. The need he had for you...How relieved he was to finally have you in his arms.

It made you more emotional than you wanted to admit. Being wanted that way was something you never thought you could have, nor was it something you had ever really began to imagine. Such a drive to love you, to be with you was almost inconceivable to you...Yet it was there. And the man you wanted more than life itself had it for you...

His eyes traveled your face as your lips parted, his hand still caressing your cheek softly as he looked down at you. His heated eyes traveled your body as a smirk formed at the corner of his pink lips.

"You don't really think this is over, do you?"

[darthrevan-lord-of-the-sith]

a worse foe

The blaster bold freezes in mid air, and Krell and the clones all stare at it as it crumbles to nothing.

"Fives," a voice, filtered through a voice modulator, says softly. "Take Dogma's blaster."

Lord Revan is standing at the entrance to the cellblock, tall and imposing and crackling with the energy they know as the Force. Fives takes the blaster from Dogma and unarms it, then tosses it aside. Dogma looks small at his side as Revan approaches, and lays a gloved hand on the side of his neck, thumb brushing just above where Dogma's blacks end.

"It's alright," Revan says softly, and leans forward slightly. Dogma meets him, resting his forehead against the cool, emotionless metal of Revan's helmet. "Fives, take your little brothers back to the barracks. Rex, can you stay?"

"Yes sir," Rex says. "Jesse? Kix?"

"We can stay, sir," the troopers answer.

"Good," Revan says, and everything is quiet as Fives gathers Tup and Dogma and heads to the barracks.

Once they're gone, the rumbling Rex has felt in the air becomes a roar, and then Krell is slammed against the wall.

"You don't scare me," Krell snarls. "You carry his name, but you are just a knight wearing old armour."

"Is that so?" Revan says, quiet. His hands go to the release clasps on his helmet, there's a hissing sound as the suit depressurises, and Revan lifts the helmet free.

It falls unceremoniously to the floor, and the sound echoes out across the room.

Rex sees Krell's throat contort as he swallows.

Revan's eyes are burning, flickering from red to gold to green, every line of his handsome face twisted in rage. His hands are clenched, muscles shaking, the Force roiling around him like a cloak. "You believe you can control the Dark?" Revan asks, and he pulls an unfamiliar lightsaber from inside his robes. "You believe you could be a Sith? You are nothing. You are an insect, vermin, compared to the Sith I have known. Have trained. Have inspired!"

The saber lights, and a ruby blade illuminates the room.

Krell's body is lying smoking and decapitated only a few hours later, tortured with lightning and lightsaber and terrible mind tricks that leave him screaming and babbling for mercy. For death.

Rex doesn't feel sorry for him as he picks up the decapitated head and hands it, smoking stump and all, to Revan, whose eyes still flicker between red and gold and green, but he's relieved to see the green appear more often than any other colour.

"Did Wolffe tell you?" Revan asks, taking the head and shoving it into a cryo-bag. "About-"

He holds up the lightsaber with the red blade, giving Rex a pointed look.

"You being a four thousand year old Dar'Jetii who is also the hero of the bedtime stories Fett used to tell the CC's?" Rex says. "No. General Skywalker complains about you a lot, some of that confidential information slipped out and Ahsoka filled in the rest."

Revan nods. "I want Dogma transferred," he says. "The 104th would be better for him that the 501st, he's lost his trust in the Jedi...Plo will be good for him."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Jesse asks.

Revan nods, and picks up his helmet.

"You'd be better for this army if you took command," Jesse says. "If you're really...really the Conquering Jedi-" Revan sighs at the title "-then you should be leading us, not the Council, not the Senate. You...you've done this before. You beat a better army than Grievous and Dooku."

"Mand'alor the Ultimate was a challenging opponent, yes," Revan says. "But after, the Republic faced a worse foe, one I could not defeat."

"Who?" Kix asks, always one for the stories. His eyes are big and full of wonder.

"Me," Revan says, and puts his helmet on. "The reason the Jedi don't want me heading an army is because they're worried I will turn it against them, like I did the last time someone gave me an army."

"But you wouldn't!" Jesse exclaims.

"Maybe I might," Revan says. "Perhaps I might start a war over you all."

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Part 1 | Part 2

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Series Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. Chapter: A dusty mission wrecks havoc on the team – and the success rate of CF99 is in peril. Good thing that their Jedi is creative with solutions; even if the solutions come with a cost at their own expense. Hunter starts to question his care towards their new member. Word Count: 2,138

The only thing guiding Hunter was the light from your saber.

His HUD was long gone, the dust storm making everything hazy and unreliable. His shots were going wide, the wind somehow managing to mess up even his blaster.

He knew Crosshair was nestled somewhere above the fight, taking droids that he deemed too close to his brothers. Even with all the wind and dust, his shots found their marks, having his brother's back always.

Hunter lost sight of his other brothers, but he had to have faith in them. Bred to be soldiers first, brothers second and all that.

If it weren't for the filters in his mask, Hunter was sure the muck would disorient him even more. How you could manage without a mask, he couldn't understand.

Your sabre hummed dangerously as you whirled around, using the droid's blaster shots against them, blue light deflecting red again, and again. In between clouds of dust, Hunter could see you pulled some fabric over your nose, trying to filter some dust out.

His comms flickered back to life, crackled chatter filtering through – it seemed that his comms were as happy as he was with this storm.

'–unter... –isiton is compromised. Repeat. Posi–... Position is... –ised. ..._ggesting a retreat...–ver.'

Kark.

Hunter tried to change the frequency of the comms channel, but all that filled his ears was the sound of static. Angling his visor towards you, you gave no insight if you heard Tech's report.

Even the droids were slowing down, which was great – it meant Hunter could reach you for a tactical retreat and make a plan with you.

One that didn't involve:

Him getting Force thrown;

2. You jumping into the heat of battle without a plan.

Noticing his presence, you swept with your eyes over the area once, twice and finally closed your lightsaber. Pulling down your mask, Hunter could see your flushed cheeks underneath the grime and soot, as well as remains of your favoured blue sparkles over your eyes.

Putting you hand up in a very Tech manner, you stopped him before he could even utter a word. Rude. Instead of trying to stop his tactical retreat as he expected, a violent cough seized you.

Ah, so you couldn't manage that well with the dust.

Righting you back up as you continued coughing, Hunter scanned the area, anticipating an attack any second.

Keeping his hands on you, he started guiding you towards the last known location of the Marauder. Even with all of his devices going haywire, nothing could beat Hunter's sense of direction. At least in the safety of the ship, your lungs could take a break. He could deal with your indignation later.

For now, his priority was to discuss with the squad another battle plan.

Because there is always another battle plan.

Their success rate of 100% was not going anywhere.

For the first ten steps, you lagged behind, feet dragging. If you didn't use your words, Hunter would not let you stay and fight some more.

After only 2 months with them, you managed to find a small space to call your own. Hunter couldn't lie and say that you blended in the group seamlessly... But. There was what Hunter would tentatively call hope.

After the first mission it was clear that whoever on the Jedi Council thought that you would reign them in, was absolutely wrong. In fact, the plans seemed to get even more dangerous.

You weren't even a General. He thought that only Padawans were Commanders, and that Padawans need Masters, so... Where was your Master? Or why weren't you a Jedi Knight?

He could ask Tech to look into it.

Well, he did want to know who was the person he had to live in close quarters with... Where's the harm in that?

So there you were, creating each plan. with zero regard to your safety and some regard to the squad.

Climb over the smoothest wall? Well, we can always jump from the Marauder and catch us with the Force.

Sit on the wing of the Marauder while flying? It's only the calmest place to meditate.

If your words were few, your actions were certainly something.

Your lungs gave an ugly rattle that made Hunter wince underneath his helmet. Although, with you, it didn't matter if he had a helmet on or not – you just seemed to know what face he was making in the (relative) safety of his helmet.

Sending a scowl to him, you started shaking some dirt from your long Jedi robes and cleaning up your face with a clean rag.

Jokes on you – Crosshair's scowls, sneers and general being made him immune to anything negative sent his way. The perks of having younger siblings, he supposed.

As soon as Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair joined them on the ship, a rare silence engulfed the walls. The only thing that Hunter could hear was the wind howling.

'It is clear that we will not be able to take off during this storm. However,' adjusting his glasses, Tech continued, 'we can utilise the storm to our advantage. It might cause some issues with the data transfer, but we should be out of the planet's atmosphere in good time.'

'We just needed to take the information from a data bank, right?' Your voice was still small when asking questions, but it was getting better. Or the entire squad was getting better at becoming silent once you started speaking. 'What if we just take the entire data bank? Tie it to the Marauder and leave. We can transfer the data in a more secure location.'

Four sets of eyes were trained on you unblinking. Credit where credit is due, you did not hunch down or flinch back... rather just stared back. Running your hand through your dust filled hair, you looked away first. 'Look guys, we are losing daylight here. I don-'

'Technically we would not be losing daylight, as days on this planet are much longer than the standard that we know. This is due-'

'Yes, thank you Tech. This is not the moment.' Although he loved his brother to bits, they really needed that information on time. Hunter could apologise later and would ask Tech later about all the small oddities that they encountered on this planet.

Looking back at you, Hunter gave you a nod, urging you to continue.

Your plan was not that bad. Except for the fact that they couldn't fly the Marauder, could they?

Your attention was on Tech.

'Tech, do you know in how much time the storm dies down for a bit, so that we can fly at a lower altitude?'

'Of course. In exactly 2 hours and 10 minutes the storm should stop. Based on how the storm is going on at this moment... we could theoretically fly blindly towards deep enemy space and retrieve the data bank. If I understood your plan correctly.' An uninterested blink from Tech, and then his attention was back on his datapad.

Crosshair was the first one to object. 'Do you even consider that we don't have to die?' His sneer was sharp and his eyes were on fire, but you weren't deterred.

'No one has to die. We just need to be creative with our survival.'

—

The price for your plan was two blaster grazes and just one sprained ankle for the whole team. Hunter could consider himself satisfied.

The only thing he was unsatisfied about was that once the mission was over, you locked yourself into the fresher with a medkit and that was it.

And here he was, stationed with his brothers on either side of the small door, trying to figure out how to approach you.

Everyone was patched up and cleaned. The only one un-accounted for was, well, you.

'You think she died?'

'That would certainly solve our issues now.' Leaning agains the wall, Crosshair had his arms crossed, toothpick in his mouth and eyes closed. Relaxed even. A rare occurrence indeed.

Silencing his brother with a glare, Hunter turned towards the door. No biggie. You were just a Commander. A Jedi. Padawan?

Hunter knocked on the door.

'You alright in there?'

'Uh-huh.'

Your voice was muffled, and while Hunter couldn't really hear you breathing... you did sound out of breath, and your heartbeat was elevated.

'I'm coming in.' Giving you an extra 30 seconds to cover up in case you were dressing up your wound, Hunter punched in the override code to the door.

Opening the door slowly, he expected to see you near the mirror, cleaning the blaster wound on your shoulder.

What he did not expect was to see you curled up in the corner of the fresher, head between your legs. As he entered, you gave no sign of acknowledgement. Crouching next to you, he could see your back moving with each shallow breath. Instinctively, his arm moved to your shoulder. With no flinch from you, he gingerly put his other arm on the injured shoulder, a sharp inhale coming from you.

'C'mon, sit up straight, it would be easier to breathe.' His words were hushed, trying to emulate the way 99 used to calm him or his brothers down. The fresher was not silent. Your breath echoed slightly, bouncing between the walls. The ship hummed, pipe creaked. And even with all those small sounds, Hunter heard the moment you decided to shift.

Guiding you in a better suited position, Hunter reluctantly took his hands off you. If it were one of his brothers, he wouldn't hesitate to slide behind them and try to match their breathing. With you?

He didn't know if he could do that yet.

You kept to yourself, and even after almost two months, you still looked standoffish every time you were alone with Hunter.

At most, you let Wrecker hug you sideways when he was excited with something, or manhandle you into a 'throw the Jedi' game-plan you two had going on.

Your eyes, still closed, fluttered slightly before settling again. Hunter could faintly smell the shampoo you preferred, all the debris and dust washed away into the pipes of the Marauder.

Well, almost all of it.

'We really need to work on your communication skills Commander.' All he got from you was a huff and a smile, but it was more that enough for Hunter. Raising his voice, Tech's name carried through the ship.

'I'm right and you know it. You need to come to us when you're injured.'

His brother appeared in the doorway, data pad and med scanner in hand. With so little space, Hunter knew he had to get out and let his brother in. Reluctantly, he got up, knees creaking in protest. Even if he didn't stray far, Hunter already missed your proximity. Crouching near you, Tech started scanning you to further know the issues caused by your lungs.

With a small beep, the scan indicated its end. 'We should move you into one of the lower bunks, Commander. It will help you breathing.'

'I'm fine... just. Just give me a minute, alright?' Hunter would bet his entire non-existent pay check that you were not, in fact, fine, if the pallor of your face or the fact that you hadn't opened your eyes were any indicators.

'It will also finally clear up the fresher. Are you done dying around?'

'Cross.' It seemed that no matter how many times Hunter warned his younger brother, or glared at him, Crosshairs mission was to antagonise you. Looking back at you, you were pulled up by Tech, your legs not cooperating for the first few seconds, but your eyes were open, trained on the sniper.

Huh.

At least that made you more alert.

'Very funny Crosshair. Didn't your mama te-' Maybe it was a good thing that your coughs were unpredictable. The last thing Hunter wanted was a fist fight in the tiny fresher.

Now all they had to do was to rendezvous with the Negotiator, and make you sit still long enough so that the medics can take a good look at you.

As most things related to Jedi, this might be easier said than done.

Maker help him.

—

The debrief went as smoothly as it could go.

All Hunter wanted to do was to get some chow, get all of the sand out of his hair and finally get some sleep. After all, you were in the hands of the highly skilled medics.

And yet.

His legs were on autopilot, and there was Hunter, in front of the medbay. If he strained his ears, he could hear the faint chatter of the medics, soft beeps creating a soothing rhythm. Nestled between all the sounds, there it was.

Thud. Thud-thud. Thud.

Your heartbeat, familiar after just a couple of months with the team, reached Hunter. You were not asleep. If he just opened the door, he could probably see you, data pad in hand, not one second wasted.

Would you smile?

Shaking his head, Hunter took a step back. Why would you smile? You were there because the Council ordered you to wrangle them, his band of mischiefs.

As if.

With one last sigh, Hunter took another step towards the barracks. The next mission was inbound sooner rather than later. He needed to rest, without a Jedi on his mind.

[hereticpriest]

Mercy Chapter 4: Anakin

Rating: Explicit 18+

MDNI

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter warnings: Lots of fluff, discussion of Anakin's mistreatment as a slave, canon-typical violence, mild medical descriptions (I tried to keep it very vague to avoid making anyone uncomfortable), Qui-Gon's actions and their affect on Obi-Wan are discussed, canon divergence goes real hard here. If you think I've missed anything, please do feel free to let me know!

Read on AO3

Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Chapter 4: Anakin

The Halls of Healing begin with an open, peaceful reception area. Large windows provide natural light, filtered in the evening to avoid distractions. Triage lays beyond the reception area, leading into countless private rooms. There is a room with several bacta tanks and a bacta bath, along with tables for massage to relieve the pain of old injuries. Operatories lay towards the back of the Halls, loaded with medical droids to assist the healers. The Halls were mostly led by Healers who hadn’t made it through their own Jedi training, either by choice or because their skillset lay outside of that of the Jedi, however there were several Jedi Knights and Masters who worked in the Halls either part-time or full-time.

The Halls have been home to you for many years, and you enjoy the peace, interspersed with bouts of excitement. Your commlink beeps sharply, and you answer it with a serene smile on your face. You got to spend your morning doing the younglings first healer visits, and your heart was full from their youthful energy. You were knighted the year prior, passing your trials with little difficulty, and you were excited to take on a Padawan of your own, though you knew you wouldn’t be ready for several years. Nothing could possibly bother you today.

“Mercy, I have a young boy who needs to have a physical.” Obi-Wan’s soft voice chimes over your commlink, and you perk up.

“You always bring me the best gifts, Kenobi. I’m in the Halls. Room 23.” You click off your commlink, attaching it back onto your belt, then head into the pharmacy you’d only just left. Luckily, you hadn’t put away the small basket of vaccinations. As you head back to your room, you open a new chart on your datapad and set it down on the counter. You refresh the bed, pulling the downy-soft blanket you used to comfort younglings from the sterilizer and folding it across the bed. It doesn’t take long before Obi-Wan opens the door to your room, gesturing for a young boy with sandy-blonde hair to go in ahead of him.

“Anakin, this is Mercy. She’s a Jedi Knight, and a Healer.” Obi-Wan introduces you, “Mercy, this is Anakin Skywalker. Master Qui-Gon picked him up on Tatooine.”

You smile kindly, taking in Anakin’s obvious interest in the lightsaber at your hip, and the tail swaying calmly behind you. You pat the top of the bed, “Would you mind hopping up here?”

Anakin does as he’s asked, and Obi-Wan stands in the corner of the room, out of the way to allow you room to work. You go through the basics with Anakin, filling out his chart as best as he can recall. The boy allows you to take a blood draw, eased by the gentle flow of the Force to make it painless, and you find him severely lacking in several nutrients, and even more vaccinations. When you explain in child-friendly terms that he needs a couple of vaccines to keep him safe, he doesn’t protest, though he asks you half a million questions throughout the process. How do you make it painless? How do you heal with the Force? Can all Jedi heal? What does it feel like when you heal someone?

It’s as you’re doing a physical examination to determine the depth of his malnutrition that you feel a hard piece of metal under the boy’s skin, near the back of his neck. You freeze, and Anakin makes eye contact with you briefly, nervous about your reaction. You take a soft breath, crouching in front of Anakin with your hands on his knobby knees.

“Would you like me to take it out?” You ask, and Anakin’s clear blue eyes widen with wonder at the idea.

“Can you do that?” He asks, glancing back at Obi-Wan for confirmation. You nod, and he grasps your arm with his little hand, nodding eagerly, “Please.”

It’s not a particularly difficult procedure, and it's easy enough to heal the wound as quickly as you create it. The slave chip is subsequently destroyed, and you look at Obi-Wan seriously over the boy’s head as you wipe away the tiny drops of blood left over after healing. Your friend looks older, wiser and more serious than he had the last time you saw him. It’s been months. Every time you return home from a mission, he and Qui-Gon have either just headed out on their own, or are leaving shortly after. It didn’t surprise you - Qui-Gon was a sought after Consular, and you were quickly becoming one as well, making your own mark upon the galaxy.

“He needs to see someone. Talk about his feelings.” You say as you pull Obi-Wan to the side while Anakin occupies himself with your datapad.

“Qui-Gon will-”

“Qui-Gon won’t. Neither will the Council. They mean well, but even Qui-Gon in all his rule-breaking wisdom doesn’t deal with his emotions properly. This boy has not been raised among the Jedi - he doesn’t know anything but the world he was raised in. You should’ve told me he was a slave, Obi-Wan. He needs extra care. Stars, I can’t believe - has Qui-Gon told him that he thinks he’s the chosen one? The weight of that on his little shoulders…” You dig your palms into your eye sockets, then take a deep, calming breath.

“He hasn’t yet, though Qui-Gon told him he was going to be a Jedi, against my cautioning. The Council will never allow it.” Obi-Wan explains, his gaze drifting over to where the boy was unscrewing the back cover of your datapad. You notice, but allow it. You’ve got more than one, and Anakin needs the distraction.

“His training is not my concern, Obi, I care only for his well-being. He’s only nine. He shouldn’t be raised with the fate of the galaxy on his shoulders, whether he’s the chosen one or not. He’s just a boy who misses his mother.” You sigh, leaning your shoulder briefly against Obi-Wan’s, then part from him to approach the youngling.

“You’ll be leaving soon, Anakin. Would you mind putting that back together for me, sprout?” You ask gently, and he gives you a smile bright as the sun. You’d felt his flicker of nervousness that you would reprimand him, and his instant relaxation when he realized you weren’t upset. He begins to put the datapad back together, and you smooth his hair back out of his eyes as you pass him to get a couple of nutrient-rich meal bars and shakes from your cupboard. You hand them over to Obi-Wan, who hesitates as he takes them.

“He needs to have either a bar or a shake with every meal. Three meals a day minimum, with at least two healthy snacks. He needs to put some weight on. Tell Qui-Gon that if Anakin hasn’t gained 6 kilograms by his next physical, I will hold him personally accountable.” You insist, hands sternly on your hips. Obi-Wan smiles fondly at you, and you flick your ears with irritation, cheeks hot. You’re torn from your embarrassment by thin arms wrapping around your waist, and your tail curls automatically around Anakin as he hugs you, holding him protectively to ensure he doesn’t fall. You smooth his hair back again, then poke the tip of his nose.

“Be good. Listen to Obi-Wan more than Qui-Gon - he’s the sensible one of the two of them. Unless he’s being boring, in which case you can certainly listen to Qui-Gon instead.” You tease playfully, “I’ll see you soon for a follow-up, sprout.”

Anakin hides a smile at the nickname, moving to Obi-Wan’s side and holding onto the edge of his robes as they leave the Halls of Healing together. You watch them until they’re gone from your sight, then sigh, closing your eyes to lean into the embrace of the Force.

“Take care of them for me.” You whisper into the ether, unaware of the interesting future before you.

~

“He set me aside.”

His hair is too short to run your fingers through properly, but you do your best, gently massaging his scalp. You’re curled up on the settee in the living room of your chambers, Obi-Wan’s head in your lap, his fist clenched in the fabric of your robes. His emotions are warring, but here in the safety of your room, he can allow himself to feel and process them without judgement.

“He said I was ready for the trials. I-I felt ready until he said it. He does not put me forward for the trials because I am ready, but rather, so he can train the boy. The chosen one.”

It’s said bitterly, and halfheartedly. Obi-Wan has slowly been cooling off in your embrace, the gentle weight of your tail curled around his stomach helping to soothe him. Your left hand rests in his hair, your right clasped with his, wrist-to-wrist. You haven’t held him this close since you were children, and it eases an ache in your heart you didn’t even know you had.

“You are ready for the trials, Obi-Wan, however it should have been a decision you made with Qui-Gon, not a decision made without your input. Qui-Gon made a mistake, as all Masters do. I’m sure he will apologize when he realizes the error of his ways.” You murmur, tracing your finger along the shell of his ear. He sighs, rolling over to face you and burying his face in your stomach.

“We leave for Naboo tonight. The Queen means to reclaim her homeworld, and we’ve been instructed to go with her to protect her.” Obi-Wan mumbles into your tummy. You hum, tracing your fingers over his Padawan braid and watching him shiver at the attention. It was surprisingly intimate to touch someone’s Padawan braid, and you expected him to reprimand you, but he only leaned into your touch.

“Would it make you feel better to know that I’ll be joining you to Naboo?” You ask, and you feel Obi-Wan stiffen in your lap, his Force signature bright as a star.

“Truly?” He asks as he sits up, and you laugh softly, nodding.

“I asked my old Master, and he convinced Master Yoda and Master Windu that I would be an asset for my healing ability if nothing else. What would you do if the Queen were injured, after all?” You grin conspiratorially, and Obi-Wan gives a happy sigh, pressing his forehead to yours.

“It’s almost time. I should get ready to go.” Obi-Wan says with a hint of whine to his voice, drawing another chuckle from you.

“Go on, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

You feel him melt against you at the term of endearment, and vow to use it more often if that’s the effect it's going to have.

~

Naboo is a beautiful planet. Green and lush and full of life. You feel full of the Force here, even as the impressive - but in your opinion, far too young - Queen Amidala leads you through the streets of her capital city. Droids and despair line the streets like a plague. You’re furious to find Qui-Gon appears to intend to just bring Anakin along and hope he doesn’t get shot, though you know the Jedi Master would protect the boy with his life. You’re being overly critical, defensive in the wake of Obi-Wan’s pain.

Together, you make swift work of the droids in the hangar, and the pilots fly off in their fighters. You hesitate to leave Anakin alone in the fighter, but you tell him to close the cockpit and crouch down if anyone comes in, the Force whispering at your back to have faith. The doors to the rest of the palace open, and before you stands Darth Maul, the Sith Obi-Wan had encountered with Qui-Gon on Tatooine. He’s a red-skinned Zabrak with black markings, and you wonder briefly if the Sith specifically sought him out because he looked evil, and if he would have even had the propensity for evil if he hadn’t been born looking the way he did. Was it nature or nurture that made Maul who he was?

You launch yourself forwards, the Makashi opening coming so naturally to you you barely even realize you have reverted to your old form. Your blade catches Maul’s as it is about to slice Obi-Wan’s thigh, and you growl at the Sith, baring your sharp canines at him in a threat display you hadn’t used since Daiyu. He clashes with Qui-Gon, then back to you, and your riposte makes him swirl away from you to gain distance. Obi-Wan fills that gap, and you continue to drive him back together as a triad. Between two Ataru wielders, your Makashi form finds purchase, until you hear a clanky rolling sound.

“Droidekas.” You curse, force pushing Maul back, then spinning on your heels to face the new threat and protect your allies, “both of you, stay in one piece while I take care of them.”

Separated, you do your best to keep their force signatures in mind as you face off against the countless droidekas that have rolled into the room on various platforms. You feel Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s struggle through the force, only feet away from you, but you are useless to help them at the moment. You have the advantage over the droidekas in such a tight space, but they have numbers, and two on higher floors harrang you from above, keeping you on the defensive.

Ray shields.

Your spine stiffens, and your ears twitch as you feel the pull of the Force against you, and swing your head to see Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Darth Maul approaching a long corridor. Obi-Wan is further back, and he gets caught in between the last ray shields while Maul stands in the wider chamber beyond the corridor, and Qui-Gon kneels patiently one shield behind him. You force push a droideka off the platform it’s on when it nearly gets you in the hip, batting away blaster fire as you watch your companions desperately.

Something hangs in the balance here. You have an awful feeling deep in your gut, and you can’t look away. The ray shields open one by one, and Qui-Gon meets Maul’s sabre with ease. Obi-Wan runs, and you see it happening - the ray shields are closing, and Obi-Wan will be cut off. As skilled as Qui-Gon is, no one has faced a Sith in a thousand years, and Ataru is not necessarily the best form for lightsaber to lightsaber combat. Qui-Gon will face the Sith alone, and he will not be able to do it by himself. Qui-Gon will face the Sith alone, and he will die.

No, he won’t.

You reach out, grasping at the shield generator on one side of the corridor as Obi-Wan races towards the circular chamber at the end. A roar rips its way from your throat as a blaster bolt tears its way through your side, but you focus on your goal single-mindedly, and you rip the shield generator open long enough for Obi-Wan to get through. You clutch your side with your left hand, swirling your lightsaber around your hand, then leap across to the nearest platform. Close-combat is not the speciality of a droideka, and you rip your way through them now, fueled by the sound of blood rushing in your ears, and a rightness in the Force with what you’ve done.

“No!” You hear Obi-Wan shout, but you don’t have time to turn and look. No one is dead, and that’s enough. You can work with ‘not dead’. You were about to begin to heal yourself as you tear the last droideka apart, but instead choose to save your strength. You’ll need it for whatever injury Qui-Gon has sustained, and it wouldn’t be the first or the last time you fought injured in order to heal someone else.

In a rush, the blackness seeping through the Force rushes away, and you jump back down to the platform leading into the ray shield corridor. You catch yourself when you stumble, clutching your side a little tighter as you approach your fellow Jedi.

“Very impressive, my young Padawan.” Qui-Gon praises shakily, and you smile at the relief on Obi-Wan’s face as he clutches his Master in his lap. There’s a slice into Qui-Gon’s hip, and you frown as you approach, clipping your lightsaber to your hip.

“I told you to stay in one piece, Qui-Gon Jinn.” You scold the older man, and he smiles weakly, brushing his fingers across Obi-Wan’s cheek.

“Technically, I am in one piece.” He replies, and you roll your eyes, crouching beside them.

“Barely.” Your retort is soft, and you place your hand against his hip, closing your eyes. The Force comes to you as readily as it always does when you wish to heal, and you knit flesh and Force together, encouraging Qui-Gon’s cells to repair the damage. The stiffness in his frame eases, and he relaxes into Obi-Wan’s arms, breathing out a sigh of relief. It will take time to fully heal, but you’ve eased his pain and begun the process. You slip a bacta patch from your med pouch and apply it carefully, then grab another for yourself, pulling your cloak out of the way to expose the ragged tear in both your robes and your torso.

“Mercy-” Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon begin to scold you in unison, but you cut them both off with a look as you apply the bacta patch to your skin.

“A thank you will suffice.” You retort, getting to your feet and holding out your hand to Qui-Gon, “Together, Obi-Wan. We should find our way to the Queen.”

You’re met with a glare, but he helps you lift his Master, and the three of you begin to make your way back through the halls of the palace. The sound of cheers reaches your ears, and you puff out a sigh of relief, silently thanking the Force for guiding you to this moment. In the hangar, you find Anakin clambering out of a fighter with carbon scoring and hints of blaster fire.

“Stars above, I’ve been saddled with keeping three menaces alive.” You grouse, and both Master and Padawan sheepishly laugh beside you, “Sprout! Are you alright?”

Anakin beams when he sees you all, though his face falls in concern when he notices you holding Qui-Gon up. He races to you, clearly failing to see you were also injured as he slams bodily into you, arms locking around your waist and face buried in your stomach. You bite back the wince, allowing Obi-Wan to take more of Qui-Gon’s weight so that you can put your arms around the boy.

“Are you okay Master Qui-Gon?” he asks, and the older Jedi reaches out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair fondly.

“I will be fine, Ani. Tell us all about your adventure while we find the Queen.” he instructs, and you walk together as the boy begins to weave a wild tale of starfights and flying inside of an exploding battleship. You think you have at least one heart attack by the time the story is done, and Obi-Wan doesn’t look much better.

[chena-h]

As someone who remembers the flak the Star Wars prequels got and, in particular, the complaints from certain fans about how those movies ruined Darth Vader retroactively

I find the fandom's initial reaction to Dark!D@any (aka D@ny for folks who aren't swimming in that river called The Nile) to be kind of amusing. In part because I think Lucas wanted to do something similar with Anakin in the prequels - basically, examine how power can sometimes corrupt a young, vulnerable person, putting them on a path of self destruction, especially when that person has been brought up to believe they're destined for something greater.

I wonder, sometimes, if Lucas had decided to tell the story of Anakin instead of Luke and Leia first, would the fans have reacted the same way they did to the prequels. Or, would there be a large contingent of Star Wars fans who defend or sometimes outright deny Anakin's villainous choices, like all the way up to the moment he literally chooses to serve the Sith instead of the Jedi (and in some cases after)? Would people still argue that Vader's legacy as an iconic villain was hampered by the prequels if we'd gotten to know his full story first?

I think I have to remember that there's a difference between how Vader/Anakin's story is told vs how readers see D@ny's story in ASOIAF. for the most part, D@enerys is the POV from which her story is most often told. We're in her head for a lot of it, and if we're not, then we're in the pov of someone like Barristan, who's little more than a sycophant. And I think what I'm getting at is that there's an interest in presenting D@enerys' actions as justified, maybe even noble or heroic. For D@enerys, it's self-interest, of course. People, in general, want to believe they're often acting in the right, so they'll look for ways to rationalize things to make themselves look better, even if the facts say otherwise. For Barry, well, he's an old knight who remains heavily invested in the customs and beliefs that lie at the core of Westerosi society. To admit that he has and continues to serve a dynasty that was responsible for years of violent conquest (among other things) is probably too much cognitive dissonance than the old man can take, or so I would suspect.

With Anakin, though, his story is told from a third person omniscient perspective. So, not only do we know more about the world of Star Wars than Anakin might be privy to, we also know (thanks to the non chronological storytelling) how these events are going to play out, and more importantly, how he will be perceived by the narrative (if that makes sense). We know where he's going to wind up is what im saying. We're getting his story, but not solely from his perspective. Thus, we're less tempted to fall into the trap of taking everything at face value and thinking that his reading of events is 100% accurate.

So, now I'm wondering - if seeing Anakin when he was more vulnerable after knowing him as a villain was received poorly, how will it look if and when D@ny's questionable decisions all come to a head and she goes full tyrant, as in she does terrible things while dropping all pretense of believing or caring whether her actions are seen as morally just? How will her descent be received when her actions aren't being filtered exclusively through the perspectives of her and her staunchest supporters? I'd argue that she's pretty close if not already at that point in her story, but it's a matter of seeing how she moves now that she's gone full tilt.

I know Show!D@ny got a lot of negative criticism, but I think grrm could still make her fall just as interesting (and especially tragic) should twow and ados get published. (Also, I attribute the flaws w that arc more to D&D and their rapidly waning interest in the show.)

[knamil]

Spoilers for the Jedi Knight story.

Filter if you don't want to see this ever again: #knamil stasis comic

This story takes place not long after the main Jedi Knight story ends. This is an AU Comic because nothing that was released after initial story launch (Makeb onward and esp not KOTFE KOTET are considered "true" for this universe.)

Notes and captions below the cut.

I wrote the story for this in 2014 and I'm using it as a basis to follow along with an art class I'm auditing. It's inspired by companion content that was originally cut from the game, but was datamined and posted online. If you've never seen it, there was supposed to be a quest where you can help Lord Scourge get his feelings back.

I don't know how to write captions for a comic so I'm including the script as a caption.

If there is a standard way to caption comics for screen readers, msg me and I will do my best.

Conventions used

IM: stands for Internal Monologue. Scourge’s internal monologue appears in black boxes with red text and red outline.

Speech bubbles are rounded white bubbles with black text and black outline.

Setting descriptions/general captions are blue boxes with black outline and black text.

The script labels each image as a page. Each panel will have a short description of the picture then the dialog within the panel.

Begin script

Page 1 Scourge kneeling in a cell meditating. Red forcefields surround him. Title: Stasis Part I (by knamil)

Page 2 Caption: Coruscant Holding Cells - 86 Days After the Emperor’s Defeat (A.E.D.)

Panel 1 Scourge is kneeling in his cell meditating. The frame shows a partial profile of his face. One of his eyes are open. A figure is shown walking toward him. Behind the figure are closed doors.

SCOURGE IM: The Medic. Interesting.

Panel 2 A head portrait of Doc

Caption: Archiban “Doc” Kimble

DOC Hey Scourge. How’s it going?

Panel 3 Scourge is kneeling in his cell looking at the floor. He says nothing. Doc stands in front of the cell facing Scourge

DOC Just seein’ if you need anything. Maybe you want to chat? Have a little heart to heart. You know?

Panel 4 Scourge looks up.

Panel 5 Doc is looking down at Scourge. The back wall of the holding facility can be seen behind him.

Panel 6 Closer focus on Scourge.

SCOURGE Tell me, Doctor… has the Jedi stopped screaming yet?

Page 3 Panel 1 Doc looks angry

Panel 2 Doc looks sad

Panel 3 Doc looks resigned

DOC I don’t know.

Panel 4 The Jedi is on a surgery table. Machinery and tubes cover her abdomen. A breathing mask covers her mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut in an expression of pain.

DOC They kicked me out two days ago. Her wounds won’t close. The bleeding won’t stop.

They’re rerouting half her organs with cybernetics just to keep her alive.

Panel 5 Doc leans over to sit on the floor.

DOC I heard they put you in here because you wouldn’t talk when you brought her in.

I don’t understand why you won’t tell us what’s happening to her.

Panel 6 Scourge still kneels in his cell.

SCOURGE Because there is nothing in your limited understanding of the Force and its potential that can help her.

Panel 7 Doc is sitting on the floor on the other side of the force field facing Scourge.

DOC Can you?

SCOURGE No.

Panel 8 Close up view of Scourge. He looks down.

SCOURGE The ritual may not be undone.

IM: It would mean the end of everything.

End Script

[wanderinginksplot]

Limit + Achievement

Medic!OC Limit and gn!padawan!reader (no use of y/n and no pronouns). Platonic.

Word Count: 2,300

Warnings: post-battle fatigue, mild anxiety, feelings of alienation

---

“All things considered, Masters, our mission was a successful one,” Master Secura summarized, giving a shallow bow to the holographic images of the Jedi council.

“From your field reports, it seems your padawan has done well,” Master Fisto’s smile was warm. “Not a surprise.”

“No, it was not a surprise,” Master Secura agreed, pride in her voice. “But we faced several challenges on the mission, ones that I could not have handled alone. I believe we were correct in our theory, Masters. This was indeed a set of Trials.”

That took a moment to filter through the post-mission fog of weariness. Your head snapped up, staring at Master Secura before you redirected your attention to the smiling members of the Jedi Council. “I- I don’t understand…”

“Well, you did, Padawan,” Master Yoda told you. “Ready to become a Knight, you are.”

The remaining Council members agreed, directing compliments and congratulations your way, but it all seemed too distant to take in. You managed a wan smile and nodded at them in thanks, but it felt as if the ship were tilting dangerously to one side.

Master Secura took pity on you before everything became too strange. “After we have rested and made our reports, we will perform your Knighting ceremony. For now, see Limit about your injuries and get something to eat. You may leave, Padawan.”

You nodded, grateful for the dismissal. As you turned, however, your master rested a strong hand on your shoulder. Her familiar face curved into a smile and she leaned in to tell you, “I am proud of all you have accomplished.”

That broke through the strange detached feeling and you smiled at her. “Thank you, Master. I could not have accomplished any of this without you.”

And then you left, feeling as though your feet were only just able to keep up with how quickly you were moving. Or maybe you were having trouble separating the pace of your body from the pace of your thoughts. 

You had been chosen as a padawan later than some of the others, a year or two into your teen years by the time Master Secura was ready to start teaching. She had been fairly new to Knighthood herself, but the Force had instructed her to take a padawan and she had listened. 

For your part, you had been a quiet youngling, dedicated to your studies of everything from field medicine to saber training. You weren’t overly fond of Force-augmented gymnastics, but you were passable at everything else. When Master Secura had chosen you as her padawan, you had been surprised. However, Master Yoda confirmed her choice had been guided by the Force and you were off to learn from the Twi’lek Jedi. 

And now, that learning was complete. 

You didn’t feel ready. Should you? Surely the Council wouldn’t make you a Knight if you weren’t ready. The Force wouldn’t let them. And yet, you had heard of padawans being made Knights earlier and earlier with the war going on. There was a greater need for generals to lead the Republic’s troops and help fight against the Separatist forces…

Your thoughts circled, sharp and angry as an akk-dog’s jaws. Your feet kept moving, the weariness of battle and the armor in your clothing a distant detail with no bearing on your current state. All you could do was walk and think, think and walk. 

This was going to change everything. You would be leaving the 327th and all of the troopers who were part of it. They were technically your subordinates, but they were more than that - they had been for a long time. You had worked with them, fought with them, laughed with them, comforted and been comforted by them. They were just as much a part of your life as any of the Jedi you had grown up alongside in the Temple. How would you manage without them?

Beyond that, you would be in charge of a group of men. As a padawan, you had been able to get away with certain behavior. The closeness you shared with the men was frowned upon by the Jedi, but would have been entirely inappropriate for a general. It was behavior you wouldn’t be able to repeat when you were a general, in charge of your own troops. 

Something brushed your shoulder and you jumped, only then becoming aware of a large shape looming to your left. You used a touch of the Force to redirect yourself sideways, settling into a half-turned stance with one hand near the lightsaber attached to your hip. 

So much of your most recent mission had been based on stealth and undercover operations. Perhaps that was the reason you were so jumpy. Whatever the cause, you had been fully expecting to see a droid when you turned - a super battle droid, or even a commando droid if you were particularly unlucky. 

Instead, your eyes fell on Limit, the 327th’s medic. 

His eyes were wide - he was as surprised as you were. Still, he left his hand outstretched, palm-out and nonthreatening. 

“Easy, it’s just me,” he soothed. “The General said- said you should have gotten to the m-medbay by now.”

“Limit, I’m sorry,” you apologized, instantly feeling like a monster. “I was just thinking too hard, I suppose. Lost in my own thoughts. I… honestly kinda forgot I was on my way to the medbay.”

Limit was the most patient person you had ever met, including the Jedi masters you had grown up idolizing. He cared about the men, and when he felt they weren’t taking care of themselves, he was willing to tell them that directly. More than one trooper had been guilted into the medbay after a quiet, sincere chat with Limit. He was the perfect medic, and one of your favorite people. 

“That’s o- that’s okay,” he assured you. “I’m on my way there now. Will you come wi-with me?”

“Of course.”

You trailed behind the medic, feeling shame. It was a fortunately unfamiliar emotion - you rarely allowed yourself to feel it. Limit was taller than most troopers by a noticeable amount, and you had never been able to figure out if he really was broader or if it was a trick of his height. Either way, you had to choose between walking beside him or staying behind him and being totally cut off from a view of the hallway ahead. 

You opted to walk beside him. 

“Did Master Secura seem upset that I hadn’t been to see you yet?” you asked, feeling like a small child frightened of being chided by a parent.

“No, not upset,” Limit said, shaking his head thoughtfully. “She seemed- seemed more concerned. Said you had got-ten some news.”

You nodded silently. It was still too fresh to delve into, too strange to consider in concrete terms. 

Limit was watching you. You didn’t realize it until he asked, “Good news or bad?”

“Good news, I suppose,” you said, recognizing dimly that your tone wasn’t making it sound that way. You smiled up at him, trying to take on a lighthearted attitude instead. “It was good, just unexpected.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Something you c-can share?”

You paused, struggling between the desire to avoid talking about it and the need to tell your friend about something so major. Because that’s what Limit was, you realized with a bit of surprise. He was your friend. You opened your mouth.

“No,” Limit interrupted quickly, pretending to be fascinated at the view of hyperspace that flashed from the viewports. “I don’t want- don’t want to hear about it. Not until you’re ready to sh-share. For now, I want to hear a-about your mission.”

The relief you felt at that redirection was only slightly tinged with regret. Immediately, you were more absorbed in explaining the mission to Limit, a process that lasted until you reached the medbay and he began to patch up the minor injuries you had sustained.

It had been a simple mission, but remarkably effective. Master Secura had allowed herself to be captured on her way to rendezvous with the rest of the 327th and, as a Jedi General, had been taken to a command ship. After some investigation, she had found that General Grievous was not on the ship, having left to launch an attack on a different ship. 

That was when she called you. 

The objective had been plain in theory, but far more complex in execution. You had to sneak aboard the ship, free your master, gain as much information as possible about the whereabouts of other Separatists ships and bases, then set the ship to detonate before you left.

“Stupid of them not to expect you to help- to help the General,” Limit commented, bandaging a burn on your forearm. “Everyone knows you have her b-back.”

You shrugged, cutting the motion short when Limit shot you a look of warning. “I don’t mind being underestimated. It makes things easier.”

“Makes sense,” Limit agreed mildly. 

When he finished with the burn, he turned his attention to your final injury - a small cut above your eyebrow. The helmet you wore as part of your armor protected you from the worst your enemies threw at you, but nothing could save you from what happened when the helmet itself hit your skull. 

As he gently applied a bacta ointment, Limit remarked, “Sounds like i-it went well.”

You warmed at his unspoken concern. Limit had been sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. He wasn’t going to push for information, but he wanted to be sure you were okay. 

“It did.” You frowned, thinking over the elation you had felt when you and Master Secura had completed the mission and were successfully on your way back from the Separatist ship. Abruptly, you decided it was time to share with Limit. “So well, in fact, that the Council is considering it my Trials.”

Limit’s eyes flew to your face. “Your Jedi Trials?” 

A moment later, a pained look came over his face. “Of cour-course your Jedi Trials. I don’t know wh… don’t know what other Trials you would be talking ab-about…”

Limit’s increased stammer told you he was flustered, but it was such a perfect moment - so human - that you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. You could feel his embarrassment through the Force, but it ebbed when you patted him gratefully on the arm. He even joined you in laughing. 

When you were finished, the tension and stress in you thoroughly broken, you nodded. “Yes, my Jedi Trials. I am now considered a full Jedi Knight. Or, I will be when Master Secura and I perform the ceremony.” 

“Is that all?” Limit asked. He gave you an apologetic look when you frowned at him. “Earlier, you looked so up-upset, I thought I missed a… missed a name on the KIA list.”

You shuddered at the thought. Since this mission had been just you and Master Secura, there had been no trooper casualties. No casualties at all, actually. “No, I just… Well, I’m a Knight now. That means I can’t stay with Master Secura or the 327th anymore. I have to leave, and I’ll be assigned my own group to lead.”

“And, you’re worr-worried about that?” Limit asked. “Why? You won over every trooper on this ship.”

“As a padawan,” you specified, making a face at Limit. You could tell what he was about to say. “Even a padawan who was also a Commander. It’ll be different when I’m a General. I’ll have to be distant from them, not friendly like I am with you guys. And what-” You broke off, clearing your throat to disguise the way your voice had broken mildly. When you continued, it was in a whisper. “What kind of Jedi is worried about being lonely?”

“The same kind- kind of Jedi who speak to the troopers as equals,” Limit told you, voice firm. “The kind who never leave anyone to suffer alone. The kind who have earned every ounce of respect from the men and will only earn more as time goes on.”

That made you smile despite yourself. Limit returned the expression immediately. 

“Don’t worry a-about the troopers,” he continued. “We all talk to- talk to each other, and every member of the 327th would gladly sp-speak up on your behalf. Before long, you’ll have a whole group who sees you as- as someone they can trust, not just a general.”

“I appreciate that, Limit,” you said, trying to let your voice and expression broadcast how much his comfort meant to you. “You really are an excellent friend. I think I’m going to miss you more than anyone else.”

“Thanks, Commander,” he answered, grinning. “If there’s any room in your new division and you think you mi-might need a medic… Well, I wouldn’t mind a- mind a change of scenery. I’ve been with the 327th for a long time. It can’t hurt to have a fr-friend along with you, can it?”

“That would be the best!” you told him exuberantly. It came out too loud, but you couldn’t help it - this was the most hopeful you had felt since you had heard the Council’s decision. “But I don’t want you giving up your place here if you would rather stay.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if- if I wasn’t willing to go,” Limit told you, turning away to start cleaning up the area where he had treated you. “Just pr-promise you’ll tell me when you know what division you’ll be in charge of.”

It was the easiest promise you ever made.

---

Author's Note - I know the timing of this is off. Most estimates place Aayla Secura a few years ahead of Anakin Skywalker in the Temple. She wouldn't have had time to fully train a padawan (a process that takes roughly ten years) before the end of the Clone Wars. But we're just going to pretend, because I love Limit so much and I like this one-shot.

Thanks for reading! Have an awesome day!

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[jypsyvloggin]

How to get the Jedi Knight ai filter on TikTok?

How to get the Jedi Knight ai filter on TikTok? #jedifilter

How to get the Jedi Knight ai filter on TikTok? @jypsyvloggin #jedi #jypsyfix ♬ Cantina Bar Theme (From “Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope”) – Geek Music Tiktok Challenges are a good opportunity to get new followers. By joining a trend, you can benefit from the general interest. I have introduces you to a few of the past Tiktok challenges and given you tips on how to participate. Now it’s time…

[kemendin]

Choice

Technically a bit of Fortress Funtimes WIP, but it can sort of stand on its own so. Thought I’d post it!

He is held captive by the darkness. 

It stalks around him, grasping at him with fingers greedy for a taste. Pounces on him and claws him open so that the light inside will bleed out, and leave a hollowed space for fear to spread its stain.

The darkness is everywhere. In the shining of obsidian walls. In the burning of scarlet lights. In the thrumming heartbeats of the Sith who drag a desperate, dying star towards the centre of the void, where hatred has become incarnate upon its throne.

They make him bow before it. Push him to his knees, force his head forward in submission. As if he can do anything else. As if he has a choice.

Does he?

Obey. 

Obey. 

You will obey.

The voice husking through his head is now a dooming knell around him, and every echo brings his mind to the brink of shattering. He has no breath to scream, no life to spill from his eyes as he lifts them towards the darkness.

Submit, commands the voice. 

You are nothing. 

You are mine.

I am -

I am -

“I am - a Jedi.”

A spark of silver pierces the void as he glares at the umbral figure pulsing upon its throne. He feels the shadows sharpen, driving into him, tearing him apart, and somehow he swallows his scream, forcing it back behind the trembling wall of his defiance.

You are my slave. You will submit -

I won’t.

YOU WILL OBEY -

“I won’t!”

Do you understand now, Caspian? says a kinder, quieter voice, rising from the depths of his past like a bubble of breath in darkened waters. There is always a choice.

Always a choice. 

He will not choose this.

And with everything he has, everything he is, he rises before the darkness.

Trembling.

Defiant.

And then suddenly his head is splitting open, as the shadows scream their hatred of him, at him, and his body fractures under their assault. In an instant he is slamming onto his knees again, onto his hands, onto his face, compressed beneath his enemy’s fury as it hammers blow after blow upon his naked being.

Break him, snarls the darkness. No longer cold, unfeeling, but roiling with incalculable rage.

Break him.

BREAK HIM.

And then bring him to me.

Unfeeling hands are upon him, shackles closing around his arms, his neck, and the shadows around him shudder and groan as he’s dragged away.

You will learn, Caspian, says the darkness, and saying it seems to strip the name from his existence, no longer his to wear.

You will learn the meaning of fear.

[levenllan23]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 50 likes! here are some story that i have been reader on AO3 and one that i made as will here them are

Conceal Me What I Am by @himboskywalker

this is a really good here here the Summary:

Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front. An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage, between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi, for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be. and here the link to the story

and here the other one that i have been reader and that is

Streets of Gold by @barmadumet

this is a really good here here the and here the Summary:

“Master??” Anakin asked in confusion, trying to force his stubborn eyes to stay open and focus. This was Anakin’s Master, but he looked the way he did ten years ago! Undoubtedly, he was even younger than that; the evidence hung behind his right ear and down to his shoulder – he was a Padawan. Anakin sat up in shock. “Master, what’s going on?” Obi-Wan looked back over his own shoulder, but there was no one there. Who was this boy talking to? Who was he calling Master? “Uhh. . . I, uhhh. . . I’m. . .” Obi-Wan started to back away. “Obi-Wan?” Anakin tried again. Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks. “You – you know me?” “Of course I know you!” Anakin’s expression was painted with horror. “You don’t know me??” he asked unnerved. *****Obi-Wan Kenobi goes to sleep as a thirty-six-year-old Jedi Master and wakes up as a seventeen-year-old Padawan. ***** "You’re with me, and I’m with you,” Anakin said assuredly. “You rescue me, and I rescue you. We will always save each other. When I am weak, you are strong. When you are weary, I will be your strength. You are the light to my darkness. You give me balance. You give me peace, and all I want is to give you the same.” i love this story so much and this is a long one to read but that is a really good part of this it help the story out all and here the link to it

"Together We Are Strong: or The Path of the Wayseeker

is by me @levenllan23 and this is a story is one that i made here that you made like a lot because how the story talk about a padawan that has SPD or  Sensory Processing Disorder  and you like how i did this story i made here and the Padawan is the reader or Y/N in this story.

here the Summary:

“Together We Are Strong: or The Path of the Wayseeker is an story about here are what the main idea of the story are about here.

The Padawan’s Struggle The story follows the journey of Kara, a young Padawan who struggles with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), a condition that affects how they perceive and respond to sensory stimuli. SPD makes it hard for Kara to cope with the loud noises, bright lights, and crowded spaces that are common in the galaxy. Kara often feels overwhelmed, anxious, and isolated because of their condition.

The Master’s Guidance Fortunately, Kara has a caring and supportive Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who helps them learn to manage their condition and use it to their advantage. Obi-Wan teaches Kara how to use the Force to calm their mind, filter out the distractions, and enhance their senses. Obi-Wan also shows Kara how to embrace their uniqueness and diversity, and how to respect and appreciate the differences of others. The Mission’s Challenge Kara also has a loyal and adventurous friend, Anakin Skywalker, who accompanies them on various missions and battles across the galaxy. Anakin helps Kara to have fun, to take risks, and to explore new possibilities. Together, the three Jedi Knights fight for justice and peace in the galaxy, facing many dangers and enemies, such as the Sith, the Separatists, and the Clone Wars. They also have many thrilling and memorable adventures, such as visiting exotic planets, meeting new allies, and discovering ancient secrets. The Love’s Growth As the story progresses, Kara and Obi-Wan, grow closer and develop a strong bond of love, acceptance, and mutual support. They learn to trust each other, to communicate their feelings, and to overcome their conflicts. They also learn to balance their personal and professional lives, and to deal with the challenges and changes that come with being Jedi Knights. The story sends a powerful message of love, acceptance, and mutual support, which will inspire and uplift readers who love Star Wars and stories about overcoming difficulties.

[etoiline]

Holy kriff I just made it through the final boss fight in Jedi Survivor without dying once! Of course stims were used and of course it’s good old default Jedi Knight difficulty, but wow, it only took me three times through the game to do so ;) I can’t tell you the number of times I died to that boss on my second playthrough, and how I was maxed out on perks and skills and had an extra stim then, whereas this time I just had my old reliable (fully skilled) dual wield. I was very sure I would die immediately because I wasn’t really prepared for it. I knew it was coming, and all, but I realized as I was running towards the fight that I hadn’t upgraded my blaster, and well…

(I love the dual blades. Did this playthrough with white blades all the way through, which I adore, but freely admit is a little strange to see while embracing the darkness.)

I really hope they flesh out the final planet. There’s got to be more to it.

Have this sort of creepy-until-you-enlarge-it screenshot of Cal and his green eyes staring directly at you. No filters, from this last playthrough, just before traversing the Abyss.

[firesofmustafar]

For the HoloNet—

It didn’t take long for the Holo-Net to run rampant with rumors and petty lies about me. I’m not skilled in conversation, nor do I care for interview processes. If you’d like to set something straight. Talk to me here.

➣ Nothing is off limits, though I reserve the right to ignore whatever I don’t feel like requires my immediate attention.

Between my duties as a Jedi Knight, General of the 501st Legion in the Grand Republic Army, as well as a Master to a Padawan, I don’t have much free time. I’ll get to it when I get to it.

That being said: My silence is not compliance. Whatever you’re asking to run in your little articles will be denied and disputed if you don’t receive my explicit consent on it.

➣ My favorite color is yellow. It doesn’t matter that much, so stop asking.

➣ Don’t believe everything you read. My memory fails me sometimes but my honesty will not.

➣ I apologize that English is new to me, and a lot of this is being translated from Basic-Aurebesh. I like the way my name looks written down in this language.

➣ My agent also runs, customizes, and filters through all content. If you have something to say to them, I will be happy to give you their official contact.

I assure you I will be the one answering your questions. My agent does not speak for me.

➣ If you are representing Sweetsweet Photography™ in an attempt to coerce me from using my profile picture because your company owns the rights— it’s my face. You shouldn’t have taken the picture without my consent, and I will not pay for the paparazzi droid that I allegedly sliced in half.

➣ I will not answer your comments, your direct messages, or any other form of communication. The only form I will receive and interact with is my inbox. See you there.