#savage opress fluff

[justalittletomato]

OOOOO SAVAGE MAKING HIS LITTLE LEMONS A NICE BIG BOWL OF HOT PUNCH!

There was not too many fruits on Dathomir, and those that existed were not too sweet on their own, they were plentiful still.

The nightbrothers learned if they were cooked well? That was a treat!

Savage taking his little ones out to gather crabapples for such a treat. Eris and Ares with baskets full! Little Feral with a basket and his pockets full of apples!

To further ensure it was just as it was once done, the punch is prepared on a cold winter afternoon. Cut apples tossed in and cinnamon spice sprinkled in.

As the night comes Savage fills small mugs of the finished punch. The little ones blowing off the steam and sipping eagerly.

Such a wonderful drink! They giggle and sip, eager for another cup!

Huddled close as the winter night continues.

@patchiefrog

[codenameredkrystalmatrix]

Another Life

Perhaps parts of us die, but revival is all the more fulfilling for it.

A shape bounded across the crags in superhuman leaps. His roar startled the local wildlife out of their hiding places. Pants for air mingled with the early morning mist. It was brisk out, as chilling as his aura. The minimal light brought to bear hints of his rigidity in feature. His eyes burned with the hue of all the suns that had never smiled on him.

He was hated.

He was feared.

In trying to take a step forward, his body locked. Savage, after 5 hours of training (or rather, trying to pound the ghosts in his mind with his fists), had reached his limit. His legs buckled. Now on the ground and slumped against a tree, he stared at bloodied hands.

He was nauseated.

Just as that very first day under Count Dookou, he felt his frame crumble. Without the resentment driving him forward, he was no longer sure why he trained. Still moving in that way without the purpose behind it was to live as the undead.

His breath condensed, translucent tendrils rising and becoming lost among an invisible, infinite sea of particles. The world had a lighter tint, blue-grey and so very cold. The silhouette of the forest canopy drifted slightly in the breeze. The damp of the forest floor reached under his skin.

Stillness....

...but for the wind rustling the leaves...

...and the occasional caw among the trees....

The rage faded to a soul-sucking numbness. He would end things for the moment.

Walk.

To hands and knees. Then he staggered to his feet, and took a deep breath. One foot at a time.

Walk.

His body grudgingly obeyed.

Thump.

Another breath, another step.

Thump.

Boots dragged, heaved, stumbled past tree trunks, logs and scampering creatures, past wide-eyed faces to a little hut at the edge of the town. His fingers fumbled around the door's handle and guided it open.

The scent of caf and roasting meat permeated his senses. The hissing of the Dark Side, the biting air and the lingering resentment had no place within those walls. That old, painful skin they formed around his being began to slip. A breath left his lungs, and he stepped beyond the threshold.

Warmth. Quiet. Darker than the outside.

You moved about at the dining table, wearing an apron while setting the table. From the moment you looked up, you could guess at what kind of morning it had been. He still looked a little wild. You kept your voice low for a soothing effect.

"Take a shower, and we'll have breakfast, ok?"

You were not a threat. You weren't ordering him. Crossing the room in three strides, he stood behind and embraced you, the pads of his fingers pressing into your waist.

"Thank you."

He nuzzled your neck to remember your scent. Citrus, muted with something mild and fresh. You were soft. The arm reaching up to caress his jaw reminded him you were kind. His pulses, finally, slowed down. You wouldn't hurt him. You never did.

"Thank you." He breathed, a low, continuous rumble starting from his chest.

"Of course, my love. Now you..."

You turned, lifted his face with both hands, and looked into slightly-glazed eyes. "...should go freshen up. I'll be here."

Pecking his lips elicited a small sigh from him. "Promise me."

Longing, a dash of humour, and...fear. You wondered if, sometimes, he felt like he was walking in a dream.

"I promise."

After a few more moments, he left for his quarters. The hot water soaked him and refreshed his body. His mind could wander to lighter things. He remembered spending hours inside the fresher when he'd first arrived, in shock that he could just...stand there without urgency- and that he could be truly clean. Flying around the galaxy did not afford such pleasures.

After he dried himself and changed, he joined you in the dining room. As you said you would, you'd laid food out for you and him. The tension in his body loosened, and he could savour each flavour of the meal. He took the dishes and washed up once the both of you were finished.

His glances outside looked weary. Maybe he'd like something different. "Do you want to stay i-woah!"

You laughed as you found yourself slung over his shoulder and on the way to his room. Unbeknownst to you, a soft smile was dawning on his face at the fact that you weren't resisting.

Laying you on the bed, he rested his face on your stomach and wound his arms around your middle. (He wouldn't confess it, but that was one of the reasons he'd filed his horns low.)

You moved your hands along his shoulders, kneaded his neck, then moved to his upper back. On the golden and inky canvas, scars lurked. Long since having learned their contours, your hand traced gashes, puncture wounds and burns alike

The warmth permeating your little hut had finally found a hold inside him, welcoming him home. Being lulled by your touch, Savage closed his eyes. In this new world- this new life...

He was cuddled.

He was kissed.

He was held.

He was loved.

[mercurydancer]

An Unexpected Chance Pt. 10

Tiny boy has a very big day, and gets an even bigger, and more amazing surprise.

_  

        Ahsoka Tano was on the hunt…for a very tiny Zabrak boy that had been returned to the Temple.

          She knew that he was here, she’d heard about him being around, and she wanted to take the little boy hunting. Maul had a tooth missing, and by their traditions and rules, that meant that he needed to go hunting! It was what had happened with her, and…sure, Maul wasn’t a Togruta, but he was her brother! It was her job! And from what she heard, Maul had come back and was going to be having lunch, soon, which was just perfect for her.

          She was an accomplished hunter on her own, now, had just won her first pair of Akul teeth recently. She was perfect to teach him.

          The fact that she was planning on having him lie in wait up in a tree with her, therefore causing him to remove his boots and thus revealing the tiniest toe-beans she had ever seen had nothing to do with it…

          …

          Not that she would admit anyway.

          Ahsoka sniffed, her eyes narrowed as she walked through the halls looking for a little boy.

          When she finally found him she broke into a smile, finding him standing and talking to Plo, Mace just behind him. Ahsoka walked quickly, watching as those tiny, delicately pointed ears pricked slightly, before Maul turned around to look at her. Ahsoka smiled as wide as possible, giving a brief wave, and similarly drew both Mace and Plo’s attention.

          “Hello, Masters,” she said, bowing, receiving one in turn.

“Ahsoka,” Plo smiled, the look warm.

“It is good to see you,” Mace dipped his head in acknowledgement, the slightest of grins on his face. “Did you have a question?”

“I was wondering if you would allow me to take Maul hunting?”

          Maul immediately perked, and Ahsoka grinned at him, watching as he turned his attention to look up at Mace, his eyes so wide.

          Mace looked down at him for a moment, before looking up at Ahsoka.

          “He’s lost a tooth!” Ahsoka said, pointing to the one in her own mouth that she knew Maul was missing. “That means he’s supposed to be taken on his first hunt!”

          “If he were a Togruta,” Mace said, his expression shifting with the slightest bit of amusement, and Ahsoka did her best to nod heavily.

          “Yes, of course,” she agreed, “but he doesn’t know his own hunting culture…isn’t it only right that I share my own?”

          There was a pause, Plo looking to Mace, who looked to Maul, then finally back to Ahsoka, and then back to Maul.

          “Would you like to go hunting with Ahsoka?” he asked.

          “Yes, please!” Maul called out, beaming.

          Mace hesitated for another beat before looking to Ahsoka, “you will make sure to cook and butcher it for him correctly, yes?”

          “Of course!” Ahsoka beamed, “it’s my job! I’ll take good care of him, Mace, I promise! We’ll even ambush like he’s supposed to!”

          “Okay,” Mace smiled, “listen to Ahsoka, Maul,” he said, looking to Maul, who nodded very gravely, before looking to Ahsoka.

          “Hand?” she asked, holding hers out, Maul beamed at her and took it, and she immediately took him running, keeping her strides short and loping so Maul’s much smaller legs could keep up. Maul gave a brief call of delight, and she knew the adrenaline was starting to wake, could feel it in the way his hand tightened its grip around hers, the warmth in the laugh he let out. “Up?” Ahsoka asked shortly, looking down at him out of the corner of her eye, and Maul beamed.

          “Please!”

          Ahsoka immediately stooped, scooping Maul under the arms mid-run, and lifting him up into the air, hearing him squeal with surprise and laughter, before bundling him close, supporting under his legs and across his back, feeling the way Maul pulled himself close. Maul carefully moved her lek behind her shoulder with his hand, before putting his face where it had been, avoiding poking her with his horns as he did so. Ahsoka laughed, hiking him up just a little bit, prompting a giggle, and he held tighter.

She ran faster.

          Maul smelled nice, like fruit and nice oils, his skin soft where his hand held her shoulder, his head turning to watch where she ran. He was a Zabrak, so he was not as light as some of the other children of his size that she had carried, but he was young…he was so young, so small…

          Ahsoka could feel the hardness of bone in a way that she did not normally feel in one so young.

          …

          Ahsoka tightened her hold, feeling her heart swell in her chest. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair…

          Maul deserved to feel like this all the time, to be treated with kindness and held in arms that loved him…and yet she knew that he hadn’t been. She knew that Maul had more scars even now, and had broken more bones than she ever had – and she was over twice his age. A year over, maybe, but still. It hurt…it hurt knowing that Maul had been so mistreated. Knowing that the kindness he was receiving now was something so foreign that half of the time he informed her that he did not understand why they did this, why they bothered…

          Ahsoka thought of a Maul who had been five years older than her now…five years older than her, and even more deeply scarred, even more unused to affection and kindness, and she held the boy in her arms and thanked the Force, thanked the Light, thanked the Dark…that she had this chance.

          She knew that Maul had been terrified of this, that it had perhaps…perhaps…

          Ahsoka still could not think of it yet. It hurt that part within her, and she had yet to breathe it out…

          But she also knew that so much good had come of it.

          Maul’s Brothers were free.

          And now so was Maul.

          She slid into the lift, using the Force to push the button from a distance and causing a squeal of delight, and then promptly hit the button that would take them to the proper floor for hunting. The doors closed, and Ahsoka allowed herself to laugh aloud, pulling back just enough to beam at Maul’s face, taking in the bright smile, the way his eyes squinted in glee, and the breathless laughter that escaped him.  Unable to help herself, Ahsoka leaned forward and pressed her montrals to his horns, giggling, “was that fun?”

          “Yes,” Maul laughed, “thank you! You are very fast.”

          “I am!” Ahsoka beamed, “I’m built for sprinting long distances!”

          Maul nodded, “Does that mean you’re going to teach me how to run down prey?”

          “I don’t think so, bud,” Ahsoka shook her head, smiling, “I’m going to teach you the same thing that you taught me a long time ago – we’re going to ambush something. For as good and as fast as you are, I think we should do something that you’re built for first, and you are built to stalk and ambus.”

          Maul nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.

          That decided, Ahsoka put Maul down, taking his hand one more time and waiting for the elevator to finally slide open.

          Maul took a small step forward, letting go of her hand in his shock, staring around at everything with wide eyes, his chin tilting up as he closed his eyes, scenting. Ahsoka watched with pride, her hands on her hips as she saw him falling into typical Zabrak hunting instincts – at least that she had seen in other Zabrak. Togruta utilized smell as well, but their sense of smell was nowhere near as strong as their fellow carnivores – Togruta used their montrals.

          The world around them turned into echoes of movement, of space, waving grasses and rustling trees, and the animals that lived within them. She wondered what he smelled, which animal he was currently scenting, or if it was all a collective of scents, if it filled his brain and he weeded it out.

          It was fascinating.

          Normally, Ahsoka would tease him, poke at his usage of scent and talk about how he must be jealous of her ability to hear, but she didn’t think that this little Maul would understand just yet. She might actually hurt him. So, Ahsoka grinned, and took a step to stand next to him, the lift closing behind them.

          “Pretty wizard, huh?” she asked.

          Maul turned to look at her with wide eyes, before he seemed to recognize what she said, and his eyes narrowed. “Wizard?” he repeated.

          “Yup,” Ahsoka grinned, “you said it aaaaaaall the time when you were older.”

          Maul stared at her longer. “I do not believe you. I would never have that bad of a taste in positive exclamations.”

          He sniffed, turned on his heel, and walked away.

          Ahsoka cackled.

          She hurried after him after she gained control, coming up to stand next to Maul and look around with him. “It’s big, isn’t it?”

          “It makes sense,” he said softly, “we live on a City planet…there’s nothing left of the places that we could hunt for anything, and there’s so many Jedi that are carnivorous…shipping food in on that level would be an astronomical cost.” He looked to her, “what are we going to hunt?”

          “First off,” Ahsoka said, “I’m going to introduce you to how to use a knife.” She pulled the weapon from where she had hilted it on her belt. It was a ceremonial blade, one that she had used to kill her own first Akul, their teeth crowning her now, and she smiled. When Maul looked almost unimpressed with her statement she grinned. “You already familiar with a knife?”

          “I’ve hunted before,” Maul confirmed. “My Master left me alone for five days,” he said, standing straighter, “I used sharpened sticks then, a knife is better.”

          Ahsoka’s heart twisted, but nonetheless she nodded. “That’s pretty impressive,” she said, “and definitely makes the hunting a lot easier. Were you able to clean it properly?”

          Maul hesitated for a moment and then shook his head slowly, his eyes lowering, “I did not know how.”

          “Alright,” Ahsoka smiled, “don’t worry, I’ll teach you. What you did for me when I was older is we climbed up into a tree and waited for something to come to us. Do you think you want to do that?”

          Maul hesitated for a moment, clearly thinking, and then nodded.

          Excellent, her plan was coming together already.

_

          Maul had never expected this.

          He had known, had fully expected that the Jedi would have their own way to sustain the life within the Temple for the simple fact that feeding the lot of them from an outside means would be unbelievably expensive. Yet…somehow the smells of animal, of green things, of growth was beyond what he had ever expected. He was staring at a sustainable little ecosystem, could see artificial clouds close to the ceiling, could smell what might be rain… Maul wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be here if it rained, but he supposed it would depend on if he was up in a sufficiently sheltered tree.

          He did like the idea of climbing one of the trees that he could see, taking in their large and outstretched branches, the explosion of green and sweet-smelling leaves.

          The closer he got to them the more appealing they were, following Ahsoka’s lead of sneaking. They needed to make sure not to disturb the prey within.

          They continued until they were at the base of a tree that had a decent amount of cover and wide branches that they could lay upon easily. He looked up at them, before looking to Ahsoka, who was taking her boots off and revealing clawed feet like his own. Maul nodded his head decisively and began taking off his boots, relishing in the feel of the grass and the dirt on his pads.

          The moisturizer that Mace had been using had worked wonders, and Padmé’s work today had removed the last of the itchy and dead skin from his feet. He felt wonderful, better than he had in a long time, and it was enough to take the boots with the Force and work his way up the tree using his claws on his fingers and toes, the knife in his teeth. Ahsoka climbed in the same way as him, turning a brilliant smile his way. When they had finally made it to the branches that they wanted they sprawled across them, placing their boots close to the tree so they would not fall off, Maul took the knife from his teeth and made a few practice stabbing motions before looking back to Ahsoka.

          “And now we wait,” Ahsoka beamed.

          Maul smiled at her, and hunkered down.

          Maul was good at waiting.

_

          Ahsoka could see them.

          She could see each and every one of his little toe beans, watching as his toes curled and flexed behind him, the movements rhythmic and unfocused. They were so tiny, and the desire to squish them was building by the second. They looked so soft, and Ahsoka knew that this had been something that was fought for.

          Maul’s tattoos had not been allowed to heal properly, his Master not giving him anything to take care of them, and she had been told to be very careful when touching him at first. There were a lot of places that were genuinely infected, and she had been so afraid…

          But now he was doing much better, and all of the cracks that had been reported on his little toe pads were healed. He looked so much better, all told, even in the relatively short time that they had had him. It made Ahsoka gloriously happy.

          She still wanted to squish the beans…

          And as she watched them flex and relax as he kicked them over his back it was so much worse.

          “What is it?” Maul asked softly, his voice quiet, but still audible to her, Ahsoka blinking, looking to see those sharp eyes staring at her. “You keep looking at my feet.”

          “They’re cute!” Ahsoka said, “you have the tiniest little toepads, and I want to squish them!”

          Maul blinked at her, looked back at his own feet, and then looked back at Ahsoka. “You think my toepads are cute?” he asked, looking utterly baffled, his brows rising. Ahsoka couldn’t help it. She giggled. As Maul narrowed his eyes at her she shook her head.

          “I’m sorry, Maul, unfortunately I think that you’re cute,” she laughed as Maul narrowed his eyes at her and waved a hand, “but that’s not a bad thing. You’re very small, you see, and your toe beans are even smaller, and that’s adorable. It’s the cute-aggression, I want to squish them.”

          Maul sniffed. “I am not cute.”

          “That just makes you cuter.”

          “Unfair.”

          “You can’t change it, Maul,” Ahsoka said gravely, “it just is, you are cute.” Maul sighed, looking so put-upon that Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, Maul,” she said, “it just means that you’re more devastating because people underestimate you.” She nodded very sagely, and Maul took that in for a moment and then gave a slight tilt of his head in agreement.

          “I see,” he said finally, “so it is a bit like a weapon?”

          “Or a tool that you put in a box,” Ahsoka said, nodding, falling upon the metaphor that Maul himself had taught her a long time ago.

          Maul took that in for a moment and then finally nodded, before looking back at his feet. “When…when you say squeeze them,” he said softly, looking back at Ahsoka, “do you mean to hurt them?”

          Ahsoka blinked.

          The question for one moment seemed so utterly out of nowhere, so confusing that she was genuinely uncertain what he had said. She straightened up, watching Maul as he watched her, the start of something almost…wary in those golden eyes, in the way he lowered his head slightly, showing more of the small but still very sharp horns.

          “No,” she finally managed, shaking her head, “it’s not…it’s not a bad aggression, I don’t want to hurt you. Cute-aggression isn’t about hurting anything, really, and if they do hurt you while saying it’s about you being cute then that’s just…wrong.”

          Maul took that in for a moment before finally nodding.

          “I can show you what I mean if you want?” Ahsoka said. Maul took that in for another moment, before finally sitting up properly, gesturing to the other side of his branch. Ahsoka beamed.

          Crawling across to him, she found herself in the same position she had been in years ago, only in that moment their positions were in many ways reversed. Maul had been teaching her then, though they had not managed to catch anything…now she was going to be teaching him…now she was the older. Now she needed to take care of him, and that meant making sure that he knew she didn’t want to hurt him.

          Maul stared at her for a moment before finally offering her one very tiny, and very adorable little foot.

          Ahsoka carefully took his ankle in her hand, before pressing her finger directly into the center of the pad on the ball of his foot. Maul’s toes curled in response, and the feeling of all of those tiny little pads trapping her finger, the small pinpricks of his claws not causing pain but there… Ahsoka couldn’t help it. 

          She cooed.

          Maul jerked slightly at the sound, his claws digging reflexively, his eyes wide and Ahsoka immediately looked up at him, pausing. Maul stared at her, stared at his foot, and then stared back at her. She carefully pushed her finger into the softness of his pad, feeling the way it gave slightly to her finger, the firmness to it, and beamed at him. Maul frowned slightly, but let his toes slowly uncurl, eyeing her with uncertainty.

          Ahsoka decided this was the perfect time to pinch one of those tiny toes.

          It was divine. The pad was just the right amount of squishy, and she poked the other toes gently, delighting in the feel, before finally giggling quietly, and pulling back.

          “Thank you, Maul,” she said, beaming, “your toe beans are just as wonderful as I hoped they would be.”

          Maul stared at her.

          “Thank…you?” he asked finally, and slowly lowered his foot down, once again hiding the beans. “That was all you wanted? Just to…poke them?”

          “Yup,” Ahsoka beamed, “they’re very squishy and as nice to poke as I thought they would be. Thank you for letting me!”

          Maul hesitated for a moment and slowly nodded.

          Maul perked up at the same time as Ahsoka heard it, the two of them immediately turning to look at the far edge of the small clearing they had made their way into, watching as a large bipedal creature worked its way into the undergrowth. Maul shifted, staring at it with narrow-eyed intensity, his grip on the knife shifting. He looked back at Ahsoka, and she narrowed her eyes at it, taking it in.

          It was a mawgax… An herbivore, it had some nasty spines on its heels, and its hooves could be dangerous if you were within range of them. With that said, it had no wings, and while it could jump, they were above it. They were truly within perfect ambush territory…

          Ahsoka met eyes with Maul, who was shifting in the tree, getting ready for her approval, and the realization made her chest tighten. She put her hand on her lightsaber. If anything happened she would be sure to provide backup. Maul traced the movement, took in her hand on her weapon, and looked back up to her. Ahsoka nodded at him firmly.

          She had his back.

          Maul gave a slower, more hesitant nod back.

          He looked back at the mawgax as it took a few steps underneath their tree, changed his grip, and then dropped.

          Ahsoka watched as Maul landed on its back, immediately digging his knees into the beast, holding on with all his might, and all of the Force, feeling the way that spark in Maul flamed bright, his knife flashing with movement before Ahsoka could even properly register it.

          She did see the blood that spilled from the mawgax, realizing that Maul had slit its throat.

          It was a swift and humane death, all things considered, particularly judging from the depth of the cut, as well as the amount of blood.

          The mawgax slumped to the ground, Maul spilling off of it, rolling into an upright position, and looking up at her with wide eyes.

          Ahsoka beamed.

          “YEAH, MAUL!” she called out, throwing both fists in the air. “That was so good, you got it so quick!” 

          Maul’s slightly shocked expression, one that almost suggested he wasn’t sure how she would react, turned to a smile, his eyes gleaming with pride.

          Ahsoka dropped to the ground, walking over to look at the corpse of the mawgax, feeling the way the Force left the bird completely, and turned to beam at him.

          “That was so good!” Ahsoka praised again, “I can’t believe you got it so fast,” she said, leaning forward, dipping her head so Maul’s horns could brush her montrals. Maul rocked back on his heels slightly, delight and surprise and something so unidentifiable in his eyes, but something so beautiful, and he pressed his horns to her montrals. “Well done, little hunter,” she said, “you have earned your kill.” She pulled back, smiling, “shall we butcher it together?”

          “Yes, please,” Maul said.

          She held her hand out for the knife, and Maul gave it to her.

_

          Maul had watched and helped Ahsoka through the butchering process, listening and watching as the older carnivore taught him the proper way. She had started a roaring fire and as they worked they snacked, Ahsoka letting him take bits and pieces at first, but then roasting it as it took more time to clean.

          Maul was surprised to learn how nice raw meat could taste when it was fresh. He had been wary when Ahsoka had first held out some of the pieces she had cut for him, but after Ahsoka had nibbled on her own pieces he had taken it. It seemed more likely that she would not be attempting to trick him, that he was able to eat it, if she did it too.

          Ahsoka had done so without complaint, or even comment, though Maul could see the way her smile pinched.

          She wasn’t happy about the fact that Maul had not been willing to take it from her initially…though he thought…he thought it was because it made her sad. Maul was learning other emotions now, ones that were not hate, and fear, and anger, but sad was one that he had felt for a very long time without knowing what it was.

          Tiq had worked with him on identifying it, telling him that the older version of him had fought his depression violently for a very long time, but would periodically be overtaken by it. He spoke quietly of what that meant, of what it felt like…of the moments when he would wake up and not want to get out of bed because the idea of going through the day, even though he was in a place that was very different, was sometimes so heavy he could not even move. Maul had been able to identify that tendency in himself now, something that Tiq had taken his hands for, and the quiet promise that it would be something they would work on.

          It was…nice to know that so many people were looking out for him, so many people wanted for him to do as well as possible, and were willing to do so much to work with him.

          It made him feel very small sometimes.

          Tiq had told him that this was a normal feeling, but also one that he was allowed to, and indeed meant to ignore. They chose. They thought that Maul was worth it.

          They loved him.

           Maul had never been loved before, and the knowledge burned within him.

          He was loved, he was loved, he was loved.

          And he loved them.

          Maul and Ahsoka ate together, until they could eat no more, and then Ahsoka took him to an actual stream of water that he had not at all expected to see. When Ahsoka had pointed out that they were trying to make it as natural as possible, and as easy as possible for the creatures to graze and drink, Maul understood. They then finished dressing the carcass, before making a call to the Kitchens. Maul waited alongside Ahsoka, dividing the meat, and placing it on large leaves they had collected to keep it up from the ground. They’d buried the bones and the digestive organs, both of which Ahsoka had explained as a giving of thanks that her people still practiced. As Ahsoka was who was teaching him, Maul had followed instructions.

          It was not long before a Togruta leading a floatbed that had a conservator unit that could be used to transport the carcass upon it approached. He was tall and broad of shoulder, and his smile when he caught sight of them was broad…and it was proud.

          He went to business first, placing the meat within the conservator, quietly complimenting them on their butchering. He also took in the cut that Maul had first made, the one thing that Ahsoka had left whole and had in turn instructed Maul to do so as well.

          The Togruta smiled, before looking at the two of them, his expression full of pride. “And who made the kill?”

          “It was Maul, sir,” Ahsoka said, straightening up fully. “He has brought honor to himself and his people. He cut once and struck true,” she held up the blade that they had been using, “and he has buried the bones to honor the animal and honor the life he took.”

          The Togruta smiled, and turned to look at Maul with his brown eyes full of warmth and pride. “Well done, young one,” he said, bowing. “I cannot honor you with your own culture, but I honor you in my own. Your kill was swift and your blade true. Well done, young hunter. May your blade never miss, and your stamina never falter.”

          “Thank you,” Maul breathed, unsure what else to say, what else to do.

          “My name is Dormosh Silon, and I appreciate how you have brought food for our larders and for our people. And you,” he said softly, looking to Ahsoka, “thank you, young one, for teaching him. You are a credit to your Akul Teeth, and to your own,” he gave a brief wink and Ahsoka beamed broadly.

          “Come,” Dormosh said softly, “let’s bring it to the kitchens.”

          Maul followed the two of them, taking Ahsoka’s hand when she held it out to him. Dormosh smiled at the two of them over his shoulder, long lekku shifting over his shoulder. They piled into the lift, Ahsoka slinging Maul up to sit atop the conservator, giggling as it bobbed with the extra weight put upon it.

          Maul crossed his legs on it and sniffed which brought both Ahsoka and Dormosh to laughter.

          They took him down the halls then, Dormosh with a guiding hand on the floatbed to get it to where it needed to be. Maul had never been in the kitchens, but as they got closer he could smell it, tilting his head up farther, closing his eyes in order to properly scent it.

          There was meat and cooking things within, herbs and other beautiful smells that reminded him of Dex’s. It was good. When he opened his eyes he found both Ahsoka and Dormosh beaming at him. Maul ducked his head, but when Ahsoka gave him a small poke on the leg, her smile encouraging he allowed himself to straighten. Perhaps he really did have no reason to be ashamed.

          Maul slipped off the conservator when they finally entered into the kitchens, looking around at the numerous carnivore species within…and blinked at the sight of a single omnivore.

          Anakin was helping to stir one of the large pots, his hair tied up on top of his head and in a protective netting. Anakin caught sight of them and beamed. Maul smiled back.

          Anakin waved to one of the others he was working with, a Zabrak who caught sight of Maul and rolled her eyes at Anakin but grinned, taking over and letting Anakin approach the three of them.

          “Hey,” Anakin grinned, “how are you? How was hunting?”

          Dormosh grinned from ear to ear, hitting the conservator with a fist, and drawing their attention. “Luminous beings,” he called out, all of them turning. “Our young Zabrak has made a kill.”

          Dormosh opened the conservator, and they gave a brief call of delight, Anakin leaning in and giving a low whistle at the sight before him. “That’s a good looking mawgax,” he said, “nice job.” He grinned at Maul and Maul found himself smiling back. Dormosh pushed it towards the back of the kitchens to where Maul could see another conservator, this one bigger and likely for longer storage. “So,” he grinned, elbowing Ahsoka, “this one able to help you?”

          “She was able to teach me how to butcher it,” Maul said with a nod. “I have never cleaned meat before.”

          “That’s good,” Anakin grinned. “Do you want to help us cook?”

          Maul blinked, looking around at the kitchens, taking in the faces that were turned to him, the excitement within them, and finally nodded. Maul was not hungry, he had already eaten, but he would not mind being able to help cook.

          Given the way everyone seemed to beam at him, the way their expressions lit up…Maul felt as though he had made a good decision.

          Maul followed Anakin back to the pot, took the position that the Zabrak had been in, and helped.

          Maul rather thought he loved helping.

_

          Anakin took the hairnet off at the end of his shift, wiping his forehead and helping the little boy that had been his helper for the day off of his stool. Anakin beamed down at him, taking in the way Maul’s head dipped a little, the little kitten clearly utterly tuckered out. Anakin gave a soft sound, reaching his hands out in offer. After a moment Maul nodded, holding his hands up, and Anakin picked him up, placing him solidly just above his hip. Maul wrapped his arms around his neck, his little horns up above his shoulder, well out of stabbing range.

          Anakin remembered Maul carrying him around when he was little, and he wondered idly whether or not Maul had felt just as protective as he did in this one moment, knowing that Maul trusted him enough to let him hold him, trusted not to hurt him. Maul purred roughly, the sound low and rumbling, Anakin very aware of the feeling of it in his chest, unable to stop the smile that creeped over his mouth. He carried Maul out of the kitchens, giving his goodbyes to the others as he went.

          Anakin thought he should probably take Maul to Mace, very aware of the fact that the little guy probably needed one hell of a nap. It had been a big day, really, hanging out with Padmé (even though that had involved getting pampered for all that he was worth), eating at Dex’s, hunting with Ahsoka, and now cooking? Lot of stuff for a kitten.

          Anakin took him through the halls, the small boy barely awake enough to do much more than knead gently at Anakin’s collar. This was something that Anakin had learned only tiny Maul seemed to do. He had asked Agen about it, the older man beaming from ear to ear as he explained that it tended to be a kitten thing, grown out of eventually, though severely tired Zabraks had also been known to display the habit.

          Or drunk ones, Agen had finished with, staring into the middle distance in a way that Anakin hadn’t wanted to question.

          Either way, it made for an extremely cute, but admittedly kind of painful feeling. Maul’s claws were sharp.

          Anakin caught sight of Obi-Wan approaching, the older man smiling, and Anakin grinned, pausing in his stride to let the other catch up. Maul made a small noise at the lack of movement, looking up slightly. “It’s alright,” Anakin said softly, bobbing him, “just Obi-Wan coming to say hi.”

          Maul looked over to see him coming, his eyes narrowing slightly before he seemed to decide it was of no consequences and pressed his face against Anakin’s shoulder again. Anakin beamed.

          “Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said brightly, “hello, Maul.” He paused, seemingly recognizing that Maul was this close to falling asleep and grinned, “shall I escort you to Mace?”

          “Please,” Anakin grinned. Anakin was very aware that Obi-Wan was absolutely after the toe-beans. It was hilarious. But Anakin couldn’t deny he also wanted to squish them, and it was rather likely that the little tyke would take his boots off before he took a nap.

          Perfect opportunity.

          They continued walking to the lift that would take them to the Masters’ floor, keeping their talk low and quiet so Maul would not be disturbed. Ahsoka had already gone to report back for her own duties, but she had given a fond goodbye to Maul before she had left.

          Approaching Mace’s door, Anakin knocked it a few times, standing back to wait for the man to open up.

          A few moments later and the door slid open, revealing Mace Windu sanding there. He took in the three of them on his doorstep and smiled, backing up to let them in.

          “Gentlemen,” he said softly, “it seems like you might have something for me.” Maul perked awake just enough to immediately reach out for the voice and Anakin could not help the wide smile that split his face at the reaction.

          Mace blinked in surprise, before that surprise turned into the softest smile that Anakin had ever seen on his face, reaching out and taking Maul in his arms.

          “Hello,” Mace said, “did you have a good day?”

          Maul blinked at him, frowned at the sun that was still visible in the sky, and looked back at Mace. “It is not over yet.”

          Mace grinned at him, “you are of course correct. Would you like a nap anyway?”

          Maul took in the question before finally nodding decisively, looking back to Anakin and Obi-Wan, his eyes still tired. “Thank you,” he said softly. And then, with a decisiveness bordering on obstinateness, Maul kicked off one boot and then the other, looking to Mace, “couch, please?” he asked, using the Force to tuck them away to the side of the door.

          “Couch it is,” Mace agreed.

          Anakin could see the beans.

          He could see the tiny little toepads, and was very aware by the tiny huffed out sound that Obi-Wan made which sounded almost pained, that he, too, could see them. Anakin was then aware of Maul staring at both Obi-Wan and Anakin with narrowed eyes, before he stuck a very tiny foot out towards them.

          “Do you want to squish them, too?” he asked, those eyes little slits, gleams of gold in black.

          Anakin was going to pass out.

          Obi-Wan took a very small step forward, “Well,” he said softly, “if it is on offer…I would not…I would not mind.”

          Maul frowned heavily before sticking his foot farther out in offer. Obi-Wan reached a hand out very slow, his eyes flickering between Maul’s face and those tiny little toe beans. Anakin took a step as well, his hand outstretched, brows raised in question. Maul narrowed his eyes at him before rolling his eyes, gesturing with his head for him to get closer. The entire time Mace stood there holding Maul very patiently, laughter very visible in those brown eyes.

          Maul’s gaze snapped to the window, his ears pricking as he stared, and they were all immediately aware of a turn in the Force, Maul no longer sticking his foot up towards them but pressing against Mace’s hip, staring out…

          A shadow was crossing the window, and Anakin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Suddenly the last thing on his mind was the sight of Maul’s very tiny toe beans.

          There was something Dark on that ship.

          “TAKE ME WITH YOU!” Maul cried out and Anakin was very aware suddenly of the way that Mace had attempted to put him down, the way that Maul had gripped tightly. “I will run after, you carry me, or I will come on my own, take me!”

          Mace made a face, but said nothing, immediately running out with Maul on his hip. Anakin and Obi-Wan both ran as well.

They knew by now that that was no idle threat.

          They ran, feeling out that Dark, very aware of its presence, the way it did not seem…threatening. It was not as Dark as Maul, did not even feel as Dark as the small boy in Mace’s arms, but it was, nonetheless. The size of the shadow also did not seem to invite anything good.

          They leapt down stairways, tearing through halls, before finally coming to the wide roof gardens, the ship either too large to properly dock within the Hanger, or recognizing the way that the entire Jedi Temple was buzzing deciding to err on a quick getaway.

          Throwing the door open with the Force, Anakin ran out to see…the largest…flying saucer he had ever seen.

          “Oh…no,” Obi-Wan groaned quietly, Anakin shooting a look to him, before looking back as a boarding ramp was lowered and a…

          A…

          What?

_

          Obi-Wan knew the instant the Boarding Ramp lowered that he was in for a very long day. There, standing on the boarding ramp and walking towards them with a swagger that belied the fact that he had landed upon the Jedi Temple itself and swarms more Jedi were appearing from various doors and windows to peer at him, Hondo Ohnaka walked forward.

          Mace had stopped near the back, Obi-Wan was aware, still holding Maul in his arms, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath, walking forward, one of the few he was certain that Hondo had ever talked to. At least successfully.

          Hondo caught sight of him almost immediately, the Weequay pirate spreading his arms wide towards him, a grin showing all of his teeth spreading across his mouth. “Kenobi!” he called out, “it is so good to see you, my friend! However…I have not come looking for you at this juncture. Where…is my dear friend Maul? You see…I seem to have acquired something that may be of interest to him.”

          And as he said it Obi-Wan felt his heart sink into his stomach.

          Obi-Wan knew what would come of hearing his name. Obi-Wan similarly knew what it would mean if Hondo had a moment to see…

          And then Obi-Wan’s attention was arrested by the sight of someone…upon the ramp…

          Someone that was tall, crowned in horns, skin as yellow as the sun…and tattooed over with intricate black tattoos…

          Obi-Wan was staring at a Nightbrother.

          Hondo turned back to look at him, holding a hand out, beaming, “come, come,” he called out, “do not be shy my friend. I am quite certain that no one means to harm you. I do assure you as well that the one you are looking for did come from the Jedi Temple. I have it from his own mouth.”

          Before Obi-Wan could say a thing, before the Nightbrother standing there could decide whether or not to come down there was a further sound of repulsor lifts, and Obi-Wan’s attention was drawn towards something else… Something…

          That…was another ship. Smaller, it was able to maneuver underneath the saucer to park on the green itself.

          That was going to ruin the flowers, Obi-Wan was quite certain, the thought an idle sort of disbelief, staring at…

          Staring at…

          Obi-Wan was not sure if he should move for his lightsaber or not, watching as a Mandalorian stepped out of their own boarding ramp. Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with them, taking in the high sweeping montrals of a Togruta and then, following…soft ochre skin, tattooed in a deep brown…his horns were not as tall as the other Nightbrother’s, nor even of Maul’s, but as he stepped out, timid, so timid…

          The Mandalorian did not say much, merely held a hand out to them, one that the man took carefully, and Obi-Wan could see that there were other Mandalorians still within the ship…

          “Feral!”

          The unfamiliar voice called out with the intonation of a name, and he watched as the ochre Nightbrother blinked, immediately looking towards the Saucer, recognition blooming across his face, a cry of “Savage!” leaving his own lips. They were running to each other before any of them could quite react, though the Mandalorian put their hands on their hips, something fond in the movement.

          Savage – the taller, the one with the yellow skin, took hold of who Obi-Wan could only assume was Feral, pulling him in for a tight hug, the two men embracing as though they had not… Obi-Wan had the distinct impression that neither of them had ever expected to see the other again.

          Obi-Wan was momentarily so moved by the sight, the way that Savage took the other in his arms and bore him into the air, swinging him around, warm laughter spilling out… Obi-Wan looked away, giving them a moment.

          “Brother, I had been so afraid,” he heard Feral whisper. “I found…I found…” he paused, gesturing towards the Mandalorian, who had brought him there. “They helped me, they said…they said that they had been helping Maul, and that…that they would take me to them. I am so happy… I did not know if I would ever see you again.”

          “I am here, brother,” Savage whispered, “I am here, and I am so proud of you. I also found…I found Hondo,” he said, dipping his head towards the pirate who was wiping away large crocodile tears… “he said that he knew…he knew Maul, and he could take me to him…” Savage was quiet for a moment, and then whispered even quieter, something that Obi-Wan knew that Hondo could not hear, “I do not know if I like him, but he kept his word…”

          Obi-Wan took a breath and took a step forward, “gentlemen,” he said softly, drawing their attention to him. He watched as golden eyes…familiar…golden eyes…both turned to stare at him, Obi-Wan very aware in that moment that both of them were taller than he was. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I…” he paused, “I understand that you’re looking for Maul?”

          “Yes,” Feral said immediately, taking a step towards him, “please, do you have him, we…”

          Savage took hold of Feral’s shoulder, reigning him in slightly, Feral immediately lowering his head and taking a step back. “Yes,” Savage said, “we are looking for Maul. He said that Maul was here.”

          “So did the Mandalorians,” Feral said, dipping his head to the Togruta that was still standing there.

          “Please,” Savage said softly, “is he here? If he is not we shall leave without question, but please…”

          “What…is your reason for seeking him?” Obi-Wan asked slowly, thinking of a small boy that was waiting just within earshot, one that he knew was either held by Mace or had already worked his way out, was waiting…

          “He is…” Feral started, pausing, but when Savage said nothing he quietly continued, “he is our brother.”

          And suddenly Obi-Wan could not breathe.

[averagehorrorgirl]

Masterlist

Work in progress 💕 Hi and welcome! I do believe I should introduce myself :) So I'm Cass 21 female ace nerd. I've been writing since 6th grade but really struggle accepting people actually like my work so I always have drafts ready to be published but I'm my own worst enemy haha. Anyway stay awhile read some of my work and I hope you stick around :)

Request Rules: - No non-con/dub-con - No pedophilia - No incest Newest: Angel Wings Pt 2 2) I saved your fucking life (soap x reader) 3) Forged in War ( General Grievous x sith reader)

¤ Legend ¤

Fluff: 💫

Smut: 🔥

Angst: 😨

Author favorite: 💕

• Movies/Shows •

Miles Quaritch:

A Second Chance

Cooper Howard:

Cowboy Hat Rule

Then Fame and Fortune Never Could Compete

Zemo x reader:

Angel Wings [pt 1] [pt 2] 💫😨🔥

Michael Myers:

Bleeding Boogeyman

Clones:

Commander Wolfe x Padawan Reader

Captain Rex x Padawan Reader

Jedi:

Sith:

Darth Maul x reader: Ferocity

Darth Maul x reader: Laced Chains

Dooku x reader

Darth Maul x reader: I was There From the Beginning 😨💫

Savage Opress x reader: Darkness Takes All 😨

Savage Opress x reader

Bounty Hunters:

Cad Bane x Senator reader: I Don't Follow You

Bossk x reader

Boba Fett x fallen Jedi: I Told You [pt 1] [pt 2] 💫😨🔥

Din Djarin x reader: Flinch

Jango Fett x reader + Cad Bane

Others:

General Grevious x sith reader: Forged in War 😨💫

Billy Hargrove:

Scars

Dmitri Antonov:

The Enemy

• Video games •

Ghost

Wired Hideaway

Soap

I Saved Your Fucking Life 😨💫💕

Deathslinger (Caleb Quinn):

Just an Old Cowboy

Legion (Frank Morrison):

Picking up the Pieces

Pyramid Head:

Simple Kindness

Pinhead (Elliott Spencer):

Chains That Bind Us

Trickster (Ji-Woon):

I can Treat You Better

Vittorio:

Kissed by Fire

Nate (SS):

Friend's till the End

Mason (Nuka World)

She-Wolf

Joel Miller:

Sanity

Revenge

Scared

Tommy Miller:

I Gotcha

Revenge

Long Time No See

[therealricksanchezpleasestandup]

― NAME: Steffu

― PRONOUNS: she/they

― MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)? Rick Sanchez, and my OC I've spent an embarassingly lot of money on art of over at @relentlessgrief

― RP PET PEEVES? Fortunately the community has gotten better about it I think, but treating OC's as less when they're anything but.

― EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS? I started when I was 10, so I'm 30 now. 20 years. I went from Neopets -> Gaiaonline -> Tumblr. I wrote as Thrax from Osmosis Jones, V from V for Vendetta, King Candybug from Wreck it Ralph, Oogie Boogie, Scarecrow and Professor Pyg from the Batman Series, Courtney and Ghetsis from Pokemon, Nnoitra Gilga and Mayuri Kurotsuchi from Bleach, Savage Opress and General Greivous from Star Wars, Pitch Black from Rise of the Guardians, Davy Jones from POTC, Gantu from Lilo and Stitch, Randall Boggs from Monsters Inc. I'm sure there's others but those were my main. However, Rick Sanchez has persisted and I've kept him throughout 10 years. Currently on private servers I write Gortash from Baldur's Gate 3 with a friend. I'm TRYING to convince my friend to write an OC so I can ship them with the Ghoul from Fallout. My resume is long. But again, Rick Sanchez for better or for worse persists.

― FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT? All three.

― PLOTS OR MEMES? Both are good. Memes are a great way to get the ball rolling, but plots can also provide more structure. I like a balance between the two.

― LONG OR SHORT REPLIES? A mix. Quality over quantity.

― TIME TO WRITE? 7pm-2am.

― ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)? Rick, yes, I like to have fun like he does. Life is short, fuck it. But I'm not mean or toxic like him. I'm also not very witty like he is. I'm more like Jerry. Isn't that irony to the highest degree. No one knows a Rick better than a Jerry.

Tagged by: @amortean ily <3 <3 <3

Tagging: @unbearablyindifferent @somniaxperdita @heedingcalls @xluciifer @m-atchmaker/ @l-ucitiel @tilldeaths @advnterccs @defactomatriarch @moonrevolutions @manebloom @jizzlords @facsimila and anyone else who wants to do it!

[zeenmrala]

sonnet 29 - savage x gn!reader

summary: modern au. gn!reader. when savage finishes a late shift at work, he comes home and reads to you, as he usually does - but the content of the text that he chooses tonight resonates with him in a deeply personal and profound way. features sonnet 29 by william shakespeare.  pairing: savage opress x gn!significant other!reader  cw/tw: domestic fluff that snowballs into angst. hurt/comfort. grief, insecurity, envy, mention of manipulation, sickness and abuse. happy ending. word count: 2.2k a/n: thank you candy + kima for beta-reading! this was inspired by prompt 6 of this list: ‘reading to them late into the night.’ this is purely self-indulgent: i love shakespeare and i want savage to read to me. i also hated how savage had no time to acknowledge or process the death of his brother feral, and that we did not get to see the extent of how maul's madness and his mother’s terrible behaviour affected him.

Sonnet 29 - [Read on AO3]

The weather outside is wet, grey and cold, and peppers your bedroom window with the delicate pitter-patter of rain song. The bare branches of a nearby tree are encouraged closer by a whistling autumnal breeze, and frequently knock against the glass. The howl of said wind is a muted, soothing backdrop to both of those gentle tapping sounds, and the trio of noises are a grounding comfort as you awaken from your dreamless sleep. The flickering glow of candles drapes your bedroom with an incandescent cosiness, the light so pleasant and warm, perfect for your now sensitive, sleepy eyes. You roll over, leaning across the cold and unslept-in side of your double bed to grab and then squint at your phone, which reads 4:13am. Perfect. Savage will be home any moment now, so you won’t bother trying to get back to sleep. You smile softly and sit up with a yawn, stretching your arms out into the cold air, before quickly pulling them back into yourself and the sanctuary of the warm bed with a shiver. You turn onto your side and curl up, nestling beneath the duvet and fluttering closed your tired eyes to rest them as you patiently await the tell-tale squeal of the elevator from down the hall - the sound that will indicate Savage’s imminent arrival.

As if right on cue, you hear the softened screech of the lift, and then the muffled thud of large feet padding closer. The lock of your apartment door then clicks, and you cannot help but grin as you listen to Savage try in vain to be quiet, shuffling around in the small hallway in the darkness, no doubt knocking his horns into the lampshade that hangs from the ceiling. Being as large as he is, Savage still struggles with residing in a building that wasn’t designed for someone of his size, which, though frustrating for him, is endlessly endearing to you. You quickly decide to let him know that you’re awake before he breaks anything in his attempts to prevent rousing you. “Savage,” you call out, your words laced with sleep. “I’m awake.”

He turns on the light in the hallway then, and makes his way to the bedroom. “What are you still doing up?” he asks softly as he appears in the doorway, ducking beneath it to enter the room. He steps closer and drops his keys to the bedside table, and leans down for a kiss. As you peck his lips, you notice that his yellow skin is cold from the weather, and raindrops linger on his tattooed cheeks. He smells like the nightclub he works for, that cheap booze mixed with the ashy remnants of other people’s cigarette smoke - but beneath that there is still the intoxicating goodness of his natural scent, a musky richness that never fails to make your head spin. 

“I was just so excited for you to come home,” you whisper against him. 

His lips curve into a muted, amused smile and with a final kiss, he then pulls away to the wardrobe. He shrugs off his jacket which is damp from the rain, then grabs a hanger. It’s a black double-breasted topcoat that was tailor made to fit his unique large frame, and you always think that it makes him look so smart and stylish. “Tea?” he asks as he hangs it up. You cannot help but grin at his offer, knowing that he is once again beginning the early-morning ritual you always share when he works late.

“Chamomile please,” you respond.

“Of course,” he says softly. “So how was work?” you ask, sitting up again, rubbing your groggy eyes as he makes his way from the bedroom to the kitchen.

“Fine,” he replies back, but you notice that his tone is slightly dejected. You hear him fill the kettle with water and switch it on. Then he pokes his horned-head around the doorway to say, “But all the better now it’s over, and I have come back home to you.”

You smile at that comment, but before you can reply he has disappeared again. You can hear the sound of him traversing the tiny kitchen, cupboards opening and closing, clinking mugs and teaspoons, the bubbling rattle of the kettle. Then he returns - two cups of steaming tea in his grasp, one in each hand: he makes them look like shot glasses with how large his fingers are. He passes you your tea, and you gratefully accept, holding the cup in both of your hands, pleased for the warmth that it emits.

“No sugar,” he states. “And in the cup with the smiling little tooka on it.” 

“Just how I like it,” you reply with a soft giggle. “Thank you, love.”

Savage smiles at your gratitude and places his mug on the table, then kicks off his shoes. You watch him closely, noting how much you like his work attire on him, how sharp and dapper he looks: he wears all black, a crisp shirt that, as most of his clothes do, appears the slightest bit too small for him. No tie tonight, a leather belt with a simple silver buckle, and fitted trousers that show off the shape of his thick legs wonderfully. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him wear his work clothes, what with him having time off due to the events of the past few months.

“How are you doing?” you ask softly, tucking your legs beneath you.

He sighs as he then falls back into the old armchair across from the bed, which is situated next to the bookshelf. He spreads his legs and rests his thick forearms on the fraying armrests and briefly closes his eyes, shaking his head. “It is…strange. Being back at the bar again,” he admits hesitantly.

“What’s strange about it? Talk to me,” you insist, a spike of worry unfurling in your chest.

“Seeing people…laughing, dancing, celebrating. As though nothing terrible has happened.” He opens his glowing eyes to look at you then, and his face softens with grief. “I still can’t believe that he’s…gone,” Savage says wistfully.

“Me either,” you reply. 

A pause. “He really liked you.”

The absence of his brother has haunted Savage since the day that he died four months ago, and you know that the weight of responsibility that Savage bears for Feral’s passing will always sit heavy on his shoulders. It is not helped by the fact that his family has crumbled in the face of such loss, what with his other brother Maul’s sickness and his Mother’s total apathy and indifference to both of her son’s pain. It has been heartbreaking to witness.

Savage takes a deep breath then, exhaling with a pensive sigh. He then plucks his small pair of wiry reading glasses from the bedside table, seemingly keen to move on. “So what are we reading tonight?” he asks as he perches the spectacles on his nose. Late night reading sessions by candlelight have always been a part of your routine together. It’s always a highlight of your day, stealing these precious moments after Savage finishes his shift, indulging in each other’s company before the sun’s rise and your departure for your own job. And since Savage had to take time off of work, you both kept up the habit. Comforting him and distracting away the sleepless nights with stories of faraway people and places, getting lost in fictional worlds together to cope with the tragedy of Feral’s death and Maul’s suffering.

“I was thinking maybe a poem or two tonight,” you reply, grabbing one of the tattered books that litter the wooden floor by the side of your bed, then reaching over to pass it to him. “Maybe a sonnet?”

“Which one?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

He flicks through the small volume of poetry, which looks positively tiny in his large fingers, and stops at a random page. “Sonnet 29,” he reads.

“Sonnet 29 it is.” 

And after a brief pause, he clears his throat and settles into a comfortable position. Then he begins to read:

“When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state…”

His voice is deep and rich as usual, he speaks clearly and slowly, enunciating each word perfectly. You feel a tug at your heart as you hear him read these antiquated lines, written by such a sad soul, from a time so long ago. Words that despite their age are timeless, that now may very well be resonating with Savage. Disgrace. The despair he feels in the face of his loss has been monumental, and you both know that there have been those around you that blame him for what happened, and the guilt and sorrow of such sentiments has begun to decay him from the inside out. Outcast. You are aware of how isolated his upbringing was, of how feeling separate from those around him has always plagued him. How that feeling has only been exemplified with the loss of Feral. “And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate…”

It is devastating how well Savage is embodying the pitiful, downcast narrator of this poem. A man broken by tragedy, his pleas and prayers, no matter how desperate, ignored by the Forces above. His existence falling to ruin. You notice Savage’s fingers gripping the pages tighter, and it is then that you understand: he really does relate to these words. He pauses at the end of this line, blinking slowly as the meaning of what he speaks steadily settles within him. As he realises that his pain has been understood by a poet, who lived hundreds of years before he even existed. Savage inhales softly, then continues: “Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d…” Savage has never been one to complain, never been one to envy: does he truly resonate with these words? Does he wish he were someone else, someone without a violent past, without a broken family? Does he long for a temperament that is not easily inflamed, a body that is not large and imposing? To be someone whose friends and family have never once attempted to manipulate him for his strength? “Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least…” Savage’s voice is quieter now, the tragedy of these lines making his voice syrupy with regretful understanding. Though you are aware of him sinking into a grief-fuelled depression, one that has leached him of his hobbies and passions; he has never before struck you as insecure or unsure of himself in any respect. Has he envied those with more money than him? Your home is modest, but you get by, it has never been noted as a problem before. Does he secretly wish for the decadent lifestyles of those that he works for? Or does he simply yearn for the sweet relief of self-medication, exotic drugs and acrid drinks that he cannot regularly afford? “Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state…”

After reading these two lines, he stops talking, reading the rest of the poem in silence. You worry that this was a terrible idea, that the content has been unnecessarily upsetting. That the poem is going to end with a bitter lament on the poet's lover, and Savage wants to save you the awkwardness of it by ending it here. But then he reads those final four lines aloud to you, his confidence restored, his countenance painted with…relief. “Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.”

There is a deep silence when he finishes, as his words ring in your ears, the meaning of the piece striking you unexpectedly, deep in your heart. The poet’s spirits, once melancholic and dire, are immediately lifted when he thinks of his lover. That he is like a bird, flying the sky at sunrise, whistling songs of beauty and reverence. Joyous. That his love brings such richness and wealth to his life, he no longer wishes to swap places with those of such greatness as monarchs. “It is all very truthful,” Savage muses, shutting the book. He thinks for a moment, then brings his eyes to yours. “My suffering has caused me at times, to envy and wallow,” he admits. “I have often compared my own fate with that of others, desiring to swap our lives, to switch places and live a menial existence without the heartache of my grief. My guilt.” He pauses, and adds with a devastating inflection, “and the overbearing reality of my abuse.” Savage then sits forward, taking the reading glasses from his face. “But then I look at you, my beloved.” Your eyes prickle with tears as you listen to him. “I look at you, and I know that I would not change a thing. Not for the world. Not for the galaxy. How could I ever envy those without you in their life?” You inhale sharply at the sweet shock of his confession, placing your cup of tea aside and stumbling out of the bed and into his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, and feel his large, warm palm settle on your back. “Oh Savage,” you whisper. “I am so sorry for all of the pain that has been inflicted upon you. It’s not your fault. You don’t deserve this, any of it.” “When you say that, my love,” he mutters in a hushed whisper. “I truly believe it.”

–

tagging some mutuals who make like this (but please feel free to ignore if this isn’t your cup of tea): @kimageddon @eyecandyeoz @stardustbee @maulslittlemeowmeow @moonstrider9904 @dinsverdika @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @grinningnexu @elledjarin @gggoldfinch @nxctuaryninetythree @wingofshadow @seriowan @itsagrimm @lazarithebellydancingmime @corona-one​

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Come Away With Me

Summary: N/A [I want you to read this and figure it out yourself @amorfista ♥] Edit: I was gonna put something here, but nah. You got this babe!

Pairing: Me and my husband, Plo. You and yo husband, Savage.

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: Not telling. KTNXBAI. Edit: Angst / Fluff

Notes: I couldn’t write for Savage because I know very little of him apart from what I got from you. But I trust how you draw him, trust how you speak of him, trust even the insecurities that make you crumble about him; I trust you. Trust. ~ Many thanks to @botherbother-blog because I also needed quick consult over Savage ♥ Appreciate it, my friend! ♥

Color thingies because I'm deranged to not use them: Orange: Plo Koon Pink: Me - because babe, I have no self-control and I wanna be part of this because I made it for you? ilsym ♥ Red: Also me because still, no self-control omfg? Blue: You ♥ Green: Thoughts, You ♥ Yellow: Savage Opress Purple: Song ♥

Perfect divider by @idontgetanysleep with itty, bitty, cutie-patootie Plo Koon face ♥

Thank you for being unapologetically you ♥

So please play this first because I will be so angry if you didn't ♥ - I want you to be upset first because omg, babe need you to be conflicted? Because I can't carry the pain of it all? Because I'm just genuinely unhinged as a default? - Okay, done? Good. Now, pull up the second song, set it on loop and then die with meeeeeeeeeeeee ♥ Please play this in loop ♥

“Have we a deal, sunshine?”

It would have been a full-on collision if the 212th was among the 501st and 104th raining heavily from all possible entryways of the cavernous haven that held the crowned princes captive — entourage had been wiped clean by the Republic’s finest. The unsung hunter with an idle rifle lax on her side had sashayed her way past scouts and troops that now chatter in doubt whether they have procured tampered intel from a now deemed incredulous source, or they have been bested by elusion. 

“Come on big boy, Mommy doesn’t have all day. Well — she does but, you know what I mean.”

The timing couldn’t even be more perfect as distant howling from wolves stalked and seeped through cracks in between boulders piled over. The choice was simple; escape with a ‘yes’ or die with a ‘no’ — never anything in between.

He didn’t have to say anything after a very audible scoff — now whether that was directed at the huntress, the situation at bay, or the fact that a very disgruntled Maul paced impatiently and seethed so horrendously that it was, as the huntress would often say ‘sus-vibes’.

“Count to three, always three — never more, never less, yes?” 

Pleased beyond compare, she tossed two small chip-like devices with singular buttons that beeped in unison; one in vibrant tangerine and the other of coy periwinkle. As they vanish in comparison to the striped palms that cradled them like fragile glass, the huntress takes a step forward and gently taps his cheek thrice; always three — never more, never less.

“Tangie (tangerine) go boom, Peri (periwinkle) go zoom.”

And just as she said and slithered through a makeshift tunnel and up onto the sandy grains, she clicked her ankles twice and activated the thrusters — watching the sparks ignite that needed one more tap to get it going; always three — never more, never less.

***

“You’ve surely outdone yourself, P. I have to say, I’m digging the vibe.” “High praise, high praise.” “Hey! That’s not very Kel Dor of you. You’re supposed to say something regal and … proper.” “...”

“...” “Well, go on. Don’t keep me hanging, babylove.” “Very well.” Plo clears his throat and procures a very dignified baritone response. “Exalted preeminence…?” “Babe, you know that was shit, right?” “Language, my sweet. But yes, that was indeed…” Plo merely sighed, nodded and backed away. “Now come along, my darling.”

***

Come away with me in the night

And so he finds you again, laying in the designated cot under the comfort of your own insecurities.

“Hey. You stop that now or I will come get you myself and break every horn on his head.” 

You laughed, at least you thought you did — willed yourself to believe in the lie that you’ve woven with such grace that it would put kings and queens to shame; the same lie you’ve meticulously etched upon every touch, every breath, every thought, every word that would always fall upon deaf ears. Not because they refused to listen, but because you knew that even the faintest of whispers would be too loud.

— too. damn. loud.

So you deny yourself in fear of becoming more than the encumbered weight upon shoulders that have already sagged from the avoirdupois of the galaxy itself; repulsed by the conundrum of hate and love in the same sentence that you’ve starved yourself of and from his anger, that you have surrendered yourself to the role of dirt — a maid droid with some, at best, questionable information that would endure Maul’s relentlessness that Savage would always make sure he would never cross a line. 

“I mean it, babe. I will break all his kriffin’ horns and grind —”

You can’t help but wonder if gratitude is enough; you accept it under the premise that they stay with you — or that they allow you to stay with them. To be given that privilege, to bask in their greatness; to worship him and all encompassing him — to surrender in hopes of a morsel of trust, if not affection.

“I’m fine — I promise! Please, just… Go faff over Plo or something.”

You laughed, at least you thought you did — willed yourself to believe that this was your resplendent point of no return; that this was the grandiose moment in which you would liberate yourself from the shackles you’ve adorned like fine jewelry to match the king himself. 

That maybe if you had been as beautiful as he is; had painted your nails at a point, had bruised your lips with the finest rouge, or have held your hair in a seductive knot that bore not only your skin but the desolation of your soul  with each passing moment that you’ve shed tears that would just… not… stop.  

That maybe if you had presented yourself or have written a masterpiece with an allure so potent, trust would have fallen so callously  upon sweet hands for the taking. That maybe if you had a better hold on emotions that spilled with such rawness, you would not have wept so much and had offered joy — not this. 

This…. This painful existence has made you doubt every reason to linger. That beyond how much you might love him, there is no longer any cause to continue this charade — this unnerving circus of a concept that for him to be angry, for him to bestow upon you this carnal need of fury, he would first have to care about you. 

That maybe… 

“We leave in half an hour. Prepare yourself.”

And you indeed do as you’re told;  prepare yourself devoid of candor that you’ve stayed true to your purpose — a maid droid with some, at best, questionable information that would endure Maul’s relentlessness that Savage would always make sure he would never cross a line. But at this moment, it was only Savage. 

Savage who needed something, anything; a massage, a clean up, food, a pilot — something, anything, everything but you.

***

“Borrowed.” Heavy like fluids that taint your cheeks with salt, his voice rumbles, but soft? — soft like velvet ribbons that knot quaintly around your neck as you board a smaller ship. You nodded, tugged by the galvanic tune of his voice that drew your feet onto the ramp and your hand — heavens, your hand, your beautiful, blessed hand that had touched me with such divinity that it revealed the sacrilegious tenderness of your heart. Your beautiful, delicate, exquisite heart that I would die for — that honors each passing second to be called a friend. [ I love you ♥ I’m such a sap! ]

Maker, break me — smite me from where I stand for there is no place in the vastness of the galaxy do they belong other than upon his.

Come away with me in the nightCome away with me

“Careful.”

With her heart? Like come on, Savage.  You gotta put in the work, babe!

He’s held your hand once before, right? When fingers brushed as you served him sustenance while Maul hissed on the side like a proper untrusting ball of fiery rage, glaring daggers at Savage who held onto his saber. You’ve brushed upon stern shoulders and arms when the wound needed cleaning and or the mechanical contraption failed to accommodate an angle — just as you have, but once, placed upon the sweetest kiss of your fingertips along the broken crown that did very little to diminish the sovereign he has on you while you applied whatever it was that made him groan, grunt, and sigh some few nights ago. 

When he had taken you by the wrists because you’ve flown far too close to the sun — now whether it was the liquid gold of his entirety or the kindled orbs of his soul, it had been all but a blur.

And I will write you a songCome away with me on a bus

“Are…. Are you comfortable?” And once more, that velveteen ribbon had knotted even tighter, forcing you to swallow what little life you had left, what little dignity you thought should have been robbed of you. And so you do as you always do, starve. 

Come away where they can't tempt us with their lies

“Yes, my lord.” Fallen from grace, hazel meets the silver flooring of the ship — hands seek straps to bury yourself in the comfort of the chair, distancing yourself from tempestuous Gods of Celestia who a friend had devoted her nights to pray for you, of you, to you, with you, always and a day as she says.

[ Yes, it be me, bestie ♥ I pray you for and happy things ♥ ]

And I want to walk with you On a cloudy day

“Auroras.” The journey was silent, never loud with Savage — never, only with Maul. And indeed, Auroras — a burst of lights mangled by a plethora of colors that had painted the sky of fine blues and purples, of greens and pinks, tangies (tangerine) and peries (periwinkle), but never a shade finer than the sun that glimmered on the very face that had consumed you — mind, body, heart, and soul; never a finer shade indeed.

In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high

And now there were emeralds before your feet; fine, lush virescent fields of a vacant park that overlooked a river of sorts and mud. And beyond, by where lonely rivers flow to sea, to the open arms of the sea, is a table with a pair of chairs.

Your friend had always told you that the Gods of Celestia are always unkind to those who are — unkind to the kind. It had always baffled you how truly kriffed up Celestian Law is, but you weren’t one so it didn’t matter.

You were happy to have a friend — no matter how much of an unhinged bitch she is and how much she thirsted for a certain Kel Dor Master Jedi to an unhealthy degree.

But you adore her, adore her with all your heart as you’ve told her aplenty — and in turn, she adores you more than you could ever best her.

She adores you enough to lie and claim she’d draw you but ends up writing a sappy fic because she has absolutely no self-control and cannot draw for shit and her self-insert game be too damn strong even for herself.

And so we carry on.

So won't you try to come

Unforgiving were the short gusts of wind that blew locks of hazel over your face that had seemingly pulled you into arms lean and muscular, yet gentle. The same pull that drew the sun back into your smaller frame and a marked fingers sprawled to caress your face with such a dignified stroke, it had called upon the stray locks to twine in between and be lulled to the back of your head. 

His gaze lingered — so did yours.

And whatever it was, be it the Force that trembled the sovereign before you or the Gods of Celestia drawn to this magnificent spectacle that happens to be observed by a distant figure of a Kel Dor frame with his talons mindful over the muffled screams of the aforementioned, unhinged Celestian woman, who flailed her arms high enough for you to smile. 

Come away with me and we'll kiss On a mountaintop

And again, before the crude interruption of the intruders, whatever it was, be it the Force that trembled the sovereign before you or the Gods of Celestia drawn to this magnificent spectacle, it happened.

Just. Like. That.

Come away with me And I'll never stop loving you

Lips so silken and laced with release that you felt your body quiver as it bestowed upon you the highest form of opulent gratification— as if his lips were either Midas’ touch of gold from lore of childhood or one of all deities that hail the sun had confounded it’s fiery blaze of passion upon your supple, sweet lips.

And I want to wake up with the rain Falling on a tin roof

The scent of pine resin permeating the air, the symphonic cacophony of birds that glided over the small city of your homeworld, the pitter-patter and click of silly, little river crabs that assaulted the tablecloth so vehemently that it had drawn Savage’s gaze to the creature before turning to address to the approaching couple.

[ Sorry babe, you ain’t making out with Savage if I’m not making out with Plo. Fair trade ♥ ]

They bore plates and trays of food; an assortment of anything unfamiliar to both Kel Dor and Zabrak — only to you and this bitch who decided to walk in when the kissing was happening. 

Plo, unprompted and perhaps as evenly an emotional wreck as your friend — one could only speculate seeing his enigmatic allure is brought upon by his antiox mask; placed a rather assuring hand over Savage’s shoulder and an approving squeeze. 

“Please enjoy.” Plo Koon would say, offering a delightful nod as you and Savage took to your seats. “I will see to it that your dinner remains unperturbed.”

You could help but laugh as you watched the Master Jedi take your friend by the waist and haul her over his shoulder. You would have commented but he had bested you with an amused tone. “Forgive my primitive manner of doing so, as it is a necessity.” 

While I'm safe there in your arms

You hear your friend whine and beg for, as she calls it, ‘five minutes of tea’ — to which Plo Koon sighed with such resignation over the fact that this mode of ‘disposing’ nuisance (your overly eager friend), had brought him to a defeated and compromising position.

[ Yes, babes. We getting lucky tonight ♥ LOL ]

“A… dire… necessity.” Plo trails off, patting your friend’s rear three times. And somewhere, somehow, you find yourself in chorus with the Master Jedi. 

“Always three — never more, never less.” “Always three — never more, never less.”

As the couple departed, your smile never fading, Savage calls to you.

So all I ask is for you

Not by 'you' or 'hey'. But calls to you. Speaks your name with so much reverence and warmth you feel it in your chest — so much that your own called upon yourself and placed a hand over your heart.

To come away with me in the night

"(insertnamehere). Will you... Come away with me?"

[dinsverdika]

Hand Massage (blurb)

Pairing: Savage Opress/Reader

Tags (as posted on AO3): fluff, hand massage, savage purrs because I have no self control, reader's gender is not specified, this idea came up to me at 1am in a vision, this ends abruptly because I kept on writing and writing when this was just supposed to be a blurb, mentions of size difference (though it is a given with Savage)

Word count: 618

Savage was sitting on the couch facing your desk, rubbing at his own hand. He had been moving and lifting furniture around all day, making his flesh hand sore. An idea popped up in your head as your gaze was trained on his moving hands. You got up from your chair and brought it to the couch, sitting in front of Savage. He gave you a quizzical look as you were gently untangling his hands.

“Let me do it,” you replied softly, resting his hand on your thigh.

Savage did not say anything in response but leaned down against the back of the couch anyway. You started the massage by easing him to your touch, running your nails along the skin of his inner forearm. You were careful to not apply pressure onto your nails as your intention was not to scratch him. Once you felt like you had gotten him used to your touch, you squirted some massage oil onto your palm and warmed it up. Savage stayed quiet as he observed you working around. Using the pads of your thumbs, you rubbed down from the middle of his hand to his wrist. You could not help but notice how massive his hand was compared to yours. His palm could barely fit between your two smaller hands.

Your mind wandered as you focused on the feeling of his skin against your thumb pads. His skin was warm and smooth on his forearms but rough and calloused in his palm. Just like his hands were in movement, gentle and tender but yet so harsh and unforgiving. His duality is what had lured you in, such contracting facets but you both had welcomed and accepted them.

Savage’s gaze was on your focused face and the coldness of his prosthetic thumb between the crease which was drawing your eyebrow together pulled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him, confused.

“You should not be so tense while you’re trying to wind me down,” he explained.

“Oh,” you simply replied. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise, little one. I’m just looking after you.”

“I’m the one who’s looking after you right now, though.”

“This is a mutual thing,” he retorted, gesturing between you two.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you went back to your task.

You were now alternating between your thumbs and the heels of your hands using the same motion on his hand to the length of his forearm. Satisfaction bubbled up within you as you felt the Zabrak growing putty under your ministrations. That was your cue to use your hand to use a wringing motion on his limb, turning it around gently every so often.

A comfortable silence settled between you, Savage’s purring lulling you into a deep state of relaxation and well-being, bonding you closer. Your thumbs squeezed their way down his forearm to the back of his hand and finally to the tips of his pinky and thumb. You repeated the action a couple of times before tenderly squeezing the tension out of his fingers, one by one.

When you were satisfied with how his hand muscles felt under your hands, you finished off the massage by guiding his hand into several motions: extensions, flexions and finally circle motions. Still gently as to not spoil your work. You let go of his hand with lingering strokes along his limb with the tips of your fingers.

Your gaze darted to his other hand resting on his thigh. “Do prosthetic limbs also need to be massaged?” you asked.

You looked up to his face as a genuine chuckle made his chest move, “no, but I appreciate the thought, little one.”

[of-stars-and-chaos]

Welcome to my blog, heathens!

Thought I'd do a proper blog intro, lol. I'll probably edit and add things to this as time goes on.

For starters, this is a strictly 18+ blog, please do not interact if you are a minor!

I write and reblog smut fics mostly about villains and morally grey anti-heroes.

Some of my work features dark themes and the heavier kinks like dub-con/non-con, so if you are uncomfortable with that please do not engage with fics where that is tagged. I'm not only into hardcore stuff though I'm also a sucker for fluff and comfort!

Fandoms I like to write for:

JC Avatar

Marvel

The Witcher

Star Wars

Rick and Morty

LotR + RoP

Overwatch

Arcane

Characters I like to write for:

Colonel Miles Quaritch (and the Recoms by extension)

Loki (any kind of Loki, lmao)

Sigma- Sieben De Kuiper

Ramattra

Moira

Thrawn

Darth Maul

Savage Opress

Silco

Sevika

Rick Sanchez

Fic Masterlist:

Suppressants (JC Avatar | Quaritch, Lyle, Mansk, Zhang x fem Recom character/reader | NSFW) part 1 part 2

Lamb (Marvel | King Loki x reader | NSFW)

[ao3feed-obikin]

The Guardian

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51017503 by YourNeighborhoodPorg (Tino_Paston) When Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ashoka crash land on the desolate, ice planet Hoth, they meet a stranger with great power and deep connections to their past. You join the trio, hoping to face your destiny, which has long been foretold. But when the Separatists and Sith threaten you and your newfound family, you’re forced to make sacrifices to defend your friends, fulfill the prophecy, and protect the man you’ve grown to love. Series images and playlist can be found on Tumblr @yourneighborhoodporg Words: 5699, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 1 of The Guardian Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Reader, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Mace Windu, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Dooku | Darth Tyranus, Darth Maul, Grievous | Qymaen jai Sheelal, 501st Legion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Separatist Characters (Star Wars), Savage Opress Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s), Anakin Skywalker/Original Character(s), Anakin Skywalker/Original Female Character(s), Ahsoka Tano & Reader, Mace Windu & Reader, Mace Windu & Original Character(s), 501st Legion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) & Reader, 212th Attack Battalion (Star Wars) & Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Assumed Relationship, Developing Relationship, Developing Friendships, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Canon Era, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Banter, Fix-It, 501st Legion Shenanigans (Star Wars), Protective 212th Attack Battalion (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Protective Anakin Skywalker, BAMFs, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker is a Little Shit, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Mental Anguish, Mace Windu is So Done, Protective Mace Windu, Parental Mace Windu, Force Bond (Star Wars), Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Mutual Pining, Overprotective Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Jedi Training (Star Wars), Jedi vs Sith (Star Wars), Emotional Manipulation, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Slow Burn read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51017503

[justalittletomato]

Nee, Tomato-chan...

What about Savages loved one wearing his clothes...

With Maul...awsome but I wonder how Savage would react...only if you feel like it 🥺💛🖤💛🖤

AHHHHH YES SOME SAVAGE’S LOVED ONE IN HIS CLOTHES??!! YES YES OF COURSE DEAR STARDUST BEE

I’m bringing back Angel reader for this! For those new folks Angel reader is a gardener as well as apothecarian. They often give Savage little bouquets of camomile and fresh fruit particularly lemons 🍋 and mangos 🥭 from the gardens.

Oh savage’s love in his clothing? Well for starters they are much much too big. The sleeves might be too long, the size is just too large and it looks almost comical if they are just putting their arms out. But there is not laughter from Savages lips as his love tugs on one of his tunics. Yes too big, one shoulder exposed and much too long.

But….the way the fabric just ends at their mid thigh, a soft curve that his eyes longer on. It suits them.

Many a tunic has found it’s way into his Angel’s wardrobe much preferred over the nightgowns and frills.

Savage’s breath hitches at the sight of his love laying on his bed. Dressed in his tunic and hugging themselves. He had left that tunic there to change and their was his love happily garbed in his clothes.

If he dared he would ask that was all they wore, but alas.

A sight for him alone, his love in his tunics as they await him in their shared bed.

[codenameredkrystalmatrix]

Colours (Savage Opress X Reader)

Their colours change as he spends more time with you. He changes as he spends more time with you. (Cross-posted on AO3)

Red

When you found him at a wreckage site on Phu, his burning eyes and scowl told you he wasn’t the friendliest being. While he was passed out, you tried going through what was left of his flight log. The only pattern was that there was no pattern…

“Listen. Either you come with me, or whoever you’re avoiding catches up. And between and me, you don’t look ready for what they could be packing.”

A nod.

You’d bluffed well, and for your reward, were now the caretaker of a raging Zabrak male. His name (which you found out when he just about screamed it at you during a rant) made sense. Savage Opress. Any conversation you tried to have was shut down either with silence or a snarl.

He would stare daggers into your back while you worked. You couldn’t help the way your palms broke out into sweats. Things were getting out of control when you realized you could barely even pilot your own ship with him nearby. It was just…overwhelming. You’d thought it over and had decided that it would really be better if you both went your separate ways. At least, that was the original plan.

A bone-chilling scream echoed through the rooms. You jumped out of your cot, knocking your head against the wall in your wild twisting. Swearing, you doubled over and stayed put until you could stop seeing stars. But the screams weren’t letting up. Every urge in your body was telling you to get back to bed, huddle up and forget you heard anything. This was too much for you- how could you help? His health was none of your concern. Nothing would save him from whatever demons were-

“Hey! Wake up!”

You didn’t quite know how you’d gotten there so quickly, but you dismissed it. His eyes snapped open, and immediately the pupils narrowed. Sitting up from the floor where he’d been thrashing, he slumped. You realized your hands had found their way to his shoulders.

“Bad dream?”

He rose and silently sat cross-legged in another corner. Whatever he was running from, it haunted him. In such a state, you didn’t have the heart to leave him alone.

“I can’t afford any parts for this ship, got that? So, you better stop denting my floors.”

Still nothing. You huffed, returning to your room. Cargo deliveries  had just gotten a little more complicated.

Black

If there was one thing that was certain about your fellow traveller- he knew his way around combat. He’d slash his way through opponents with speed and brutality that made you shiver. The problem of running into a couple of goons was often resolved in seven seconds- maximum. But for the bigger fights (like intercepts by rivals of your clients), he’d put himself in serious danger, and sometimes narrowly miss death.

In the dim light of the medical room, his eyes were flat and dark after times like those. Half-closed, and drifting in and out of awareness, they seemed almost lifeless. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest showed he lived. You tried to be gentler with him, asking how he felt after he’d fully awakened.

“I live.”

“How about I help out a bit? I know a couple older tricks.”

“I will tend myself.”

“You pass out halfway through it.”

Another stare, so you continued. “That won’t help. I’ll do it, so you get back into fighting form quicker.”

He didn’t object- either to you patching him up, or to you rubbing some cream in so slightly older injuries healed better. After one such session, you saw him looking at you.

“You cannot feel the Force.”

“Nope. Why?”

He couldn’t answer that. There was just…he wasn’t sure what to call it. The Dark Side only offered anger to suppress the pain for a while. There would be no true healing for him. But this...what he felt around you... was not unfavourable.

His skin was soothed with the creams. He slept more deeply with the scent of herbal oils lingering in the room. Savage found himself stretching his limits, battering his body to be melded together again under your touch. Something prevented him from drawing on the full depth of his anger. So, he avoided meditation altogether. It had always been a waste of time better spent in combat.

“I swear- it’s like you want to get killed.” You griped, working some ointment into his lower back after a more serious run-in.

“It would not be something I avoided.”

He regretted speaking, as his words caused your hands to still.

“Savage? You…”

“I am tired.”

“You…I…Savage. You’re…”

The Force within you reached out to him, begging in ways words could not articulate to not say that. It stretched to someplace within his hearts, hurting for him. What…was this? Turning to look at you, he tried deciphering your intent, but found nothing that the Force had not revealed. A little tremulously, you laid a hand on his chest.

“I’m really sorry.”

And, if he were almost any other being, Savage Opress would have broken down into tears. As it was, he simply closed his eyes.

Brown

Once he noticed, it was impossible to ignore it. He liked that little path in the Force that bent around the shape of your being. It reached out to him- like what he’d imagine a loth-cat’s tail would be like wrapped around his soul. Not the insidious coaxing of Mother Talzin, or the durasteel-cold of Count Dookoo. And not the white-hot mass of rage that had pulsed from his brother. It was quieter. He could feel the fear that most beings did around him, but something just under that drew him in. He stayed with you more to sense it.

You noticed his thoughtful silence. Maybe some air would do him good. “Would you like to come to the markets with me?”

A silent stare. Not pointed, but not exactly welcoming either. He did, however, nod after a bit. After that first trip, he made it a habit- standing as soon as he saw you with your bags. He’d lift things too heavy for you and offer protection. Well, “offer” wasn’t quite the word. It was more that he’d stay at your side and chillingly glare at anyone who stared at you for more than 3 seconds. During one such trip, you saw a parent walking with their child. 

“Ever thought about it?” You cocked your head in their direction. He looked up at the sky, eyes less harsh than they used to be, but distant. Something…heavy came over him.

“I kill.”

“You killed. You can stop.”

His head darted down to you, expression asking.

I can?

He seemed surprised that he could be anything besides a monster. That left you with food for thought once you re-boarded.

After another unsuccessful meditation upon leaving your side, Savage stood. He looked to the corner of his area, where you’d left a costly lotion. What little rage he had mustered faded away, bringing clarity. It wasn’t that he’d been prevented from using his anger. It was that there was less anger in him to be used. Should he be worried about that?

He'd ignore it. He’d only wanted to be strong enough to fight alongside his brother. Dark power meant nothing if it could not bring him back. In any case, he felt too tired to tread that path any longer. There was another he wanted to wander down.

You worked around and with each other, settling into a routine over time. Savage served as your very-effective bodyguard and co-pilot, working the guns as needed. Your financial situation stabilized, and improved. So, it was time for a little treat.

“Ta-da!” You walked in with two boxes. “Gotcha some stuffed puffer pig.”

You sat in the opposite seat of the cockpit, passing him his food. If you hadn’t been so busy enjoying your algae crisps, you may have caught the surprise on his face, that melted into satisfaction as he ate with you.

As you took his box from him to throw it away, your shoulder brushed against his. A pleasant thrill caught him off-guard. He must have reacted outwardly, because you glanced at him.

“Everything ok?”

Catching your free hand, he guided it to his chest. Another floaty feeling. He leaned in and manoeuvred himself until you were nestled against his chest the way he’d seen others do. Unease, worry that you would break away. But despite that, every cell within him sang.  

“You could have just asked, Savage.”

And when you tightened the embrace, he became convinced there was power in you that the Jedi and Sith could only dream of. Something that somehow both weakened him and eased the tension from his body. You couldn’t respond to any of his questions when he asked, and he could tell you were being truthful about your lack of Force-sensitivity. He let it drop, content to experience the effect you had on him.

Yellow

Sometimes you’d brush fingertips. Other times, his hand fit itself in the small of your back. Others, he’d simply stand behind you, fascinated by the soft curves of your body against himself. You’d glance back, and…was that a smile on his face when you teased him? Even the way he moved was shifting. His predator’s stalk was slowing- stretching into a smooth, easy stride that often directed towards you. Something fond peeked through his once-impassive stare.

Once, as you sat in the cabin, he took one of your hands to the base of one of his horns. Under his guidance, your fingertips rubbed the flesh at the point where they started to jut out. His torso relaxed, and carefully- making a choice and surrendering to a wish- he laid on your thighs. You continued slowly, in awe of what this gesture was doing to him. When he looked at you, his eyes seemed to hold the beginnings of peace. You beamed.

He…could cause happiness? Savage could not for the life of him believe that he was the reason for those looks. He wanted to see them all the time. Was there more he could do? After cycles of deliberation, he approached. He reached forward, forward, but then stopped. Was this a mistake? What if you frowned or glared at him? His hearts squeezed. He couldn’t remember if, before this, his hands had ever trembled.

You took them halfway. Thumbs slid along bruised and cybernetic knuckles alike. Then, with all the gentleness in the galaxy, you stretched up and kissed his cheek. A gasp, and his eyes widened.

“I’ll take it slow.”

Over time, many more caressed his cheeks, forehead, nose and, eventually, his lips. Every time, he’d close his eyes, letting relief flow through his jaded body. His meditation sessions grew once more, but with the addition of this beautiful creature sound asleep in his lap. He felt himself smile when you were like that. It was no longer the Dark Side that fuelled him.

Days were spent stealing embraces while you worked. Fingers always lingered more than what was strictly necessary. During lazier times, you’d set the ship to autopilot while you relaxed in the cockpit. He’d have you snuggled against him, planting the occasional forehead kiss. And as you responded gently along his neck and shoulders, he’d hold you just a little closer.

Nights were spent on his bed, where scented oils were massaged into his aching muscles. Contented rumbles would fill the ship, and, with either tenderness or near-unbridled passion, he’d kiss every inch of you in gratitude. Instead of nightmares, peaceful blackness waited on him as he closed his eyes.

…o0o…

If there was anything you loved about him, it was how close he kept you. Be it the way his hand always found yours as you walked together, or the way his arms steadied you in your weakest moments. In your current position, his organic arm was wrapped around your torso as you laid on his chest. The cybernetic one had been taken off- something he did only when he was sure he could have a long, peaceful moment with you. And that he’d had- being able to rest after a successful delivery.

Harsh lines made up his face, but with a relaxed expression that softened you. Reaching out, you traced the path of the bridge of his nose, then across to his cheekbones, along his jaw…

His chest vibrated with a hum. You giggled at that, and the corner of his mouth turned up. Savage rolled over to straddle you. The pads of his fingers skimmed your wrist, and he left a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. As he pulled back, those eyes finally opened to the colour you saw most in recent times. The colour of the flowers you’d decorated his horns with after you’d raced through a field. That of the bracelets he’d given you as a declaration and a promise. That of the new sunrise of hope in your lives.

Beautiful, burning, heart-melting…

Gold.

[beating-a-dead-plot]

Character List + Rules

Hello! I’m Petunia, welcome to my blog! 

I am a massive Star Wars nerd, I spend most of my free time reading, writing, watching, or even talking about Star Wars. I will admit, I have not seen Solo or Rise of Skywalker, neither of them were available to me at the right time and I never went back for them, sadly. Despite this, if someone really thinks I should watch them, I am open to debate! 

Rule and Character List under the cut: 

Rules: 

NO SMUT, though, my blog is 18+ because I do share smut fics and that sort of thing. I don’t care if you’re only 17, wait that extra year before following or I will block you. 

I love romance, I am a sucker for love and fluff, so that is my main market, however I will write angst or hurt/comfort if requested!

No clone x clone except in platonic or familial situations, just not something I enjoy reading or writing.

No hate towards specific ships, even if I personally dislike them. 

No underage characters in relationships with adult characters in a romantic light, platonic or familial only please.

I WILL take requests of me to listen to a specific song while writing, I understand that music can greatly influence writing, and I’d love to bring your thoughts to life!

Characters I Will Write For: 

Din “Mando” Djarin

Boba Fett

The Armorer

Paz Vizsla

Omera and Winta (Only in a platonic scene) 

Cara Dune

Fennec Shand

Migs Mayfeld

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

Han Solo

Chewbacca (Only in a platonic scene) 

Krrsantan (Also known as Santos and Black Krrsantan)

Garsa Fwip

Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso

K-2SO (Only in platonic scenes)

R2-D2 and C3-PO (Only in platonic scenes)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, throughout his life. (Though I reserve the right to turn down a request I don’t feel I can fulfill)

Owen Lars (Young or Kenobi-Era only please)

Darth Vader (I’m iffy on this one, I may be selective with requests for this character) 

Padme Amidala

Any handmaidens of Padme Amidala who are mentioned in the Queen’s Trilogy by E.K. Johnston. 

Jango Fett

Qui-Gon Jinn

Darth Maul

The Grand Inquisitor

Hera Syndulla

Kanan Jarrus

Ezra Bridger (Only in platonic scenes)

Sabine Wren (Only in platonic scenes) 

Zeb Orrelios

Ahsoka Tano (Only in a platonic scene)

Hondo Ohnaka 

Embo

Asajj Ventress 

Shaak Ti

Aayla Secura

Plo Koon

Quinlan Vos

Savage Opress 

Satine Kryze

Any clone you want, just please be understanding if they are too obscure for me to feel I can accurately portray them. If I like the idea, or even if I just think it might be fun to write, I will definitely stalk Google and Tumblr to find more information before deciding whether I will write for them. If you want a fic for a clone, no matter how random or small ASK ME, I will always answer and let you know if I can do it!

Ships I Will Write For:

Blyla

Codywan

Quinfox/Foxquin/Vos

Wolffe/Plo Koon (Only in a platonic scene)

Rexsoka (Only in a platonic scene)

Anidala

Finnpoe

Cassian/Jyn

Baze/Chirrut

Han/Leia

Bail/Breha

Foxiyo 

Kanera

Obitine

Obi-Wan/Jango Fett 

DinLuke

Mace Windu/Commander Ponds

Owen/Beru

Other Assorted Platonic Ships, if you want it, ask me!

And, lastly, pretty much ANY clone trooper who appears in Clone Wars, and including Bad Batch! If they have a name, I don’t care how obscure, I will do my best to know them well enough to write what you desire. If I fail miserably, at least you’ll have a good laugh! 

[goddamnmuses]

Savage Starter Call

Give this a like for a starter from Savage Opress, if you want a specific vibe like smut or fluff or whatever, or something for a specific muse of yours if you have multiple feel free to specify otherwise I’ll keep it generic.

[subbing-for-clones]

Stranded Part 4

Savage x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: Gore, Blood, Death, All around violence, Oof fucking angst. Don’t read if you have a weak stomach.

A/N: So I haven’t written anything this graphic before and I’m positive there’s A LOT worse out there but I did push my personal limits. I kept this chapter short so if anyone needs to skip it, they can. It’s probably not as bad as I’m hyping it up to be but if gore bothers you badly you can absolutely skip this chapter and it won’t hurt the overall story. I’ll be sure to mention the important parts in the next chapter so if you do skip you won’t miss anything too important.

PREVIOUS          NEXT          MASTERLIST

  NO!

    Savage watched through moonlit woods, aided by his night vision. The gangly creatures dragged his princess away by her legs. She clawed at the dirt, tearing at anything she could grasp, raking at roots and soil as she was pulled deeper. Overwhelmed with terror, she let out a scream, “Savage!” Giving chase immediately with his saber-staff in an iron grip; his body tore through the underbrush. Running as quickly as his feet would carry him. These beasts were fast; their bodies whipped through the air around over growth and thick tree trunks. He lost sight of them but could still hear the guttural shrieks of the monsters and the terrified howls of his princess rip through the freezing night air.

Why now? Why had they breached the bounds of their territory tonight after all these years? What changed?

    He could feel them through the force. Cold, slippery signatures surrounded her bright flourishing light, attempting to violate what was pure. As he pushed forward, ignoring the branches and thorns scraping his flesh, their numbers grew. His mind wasn’t working fast enough to realize he was running into an ambush. Even if he did realize it, he would continue towards her anyway. Glowing putrid green eyes shone through dead branches, the occasional snarl tearing through the atmosphere.  

Her signature was fading into the distance.

He had fallen too far behind.

Her screams had stopped.

He regretted leaving her alone in the first place.

Panic began flaring in his chest, lighting his nerves on fire and boiling his blood.

But he was a hunter; as was his brother and his father before him.

This is what he had been bred for.

Fight for and protect the woman that had not only chosen him, but he had also chosen.

He stopped and closed his eyes, focusing on her scent and her fluttering force signature.

There.

He knew what path to follow.

He lit his saber and spun on the ball of his foot, cutting down one of the creatures that dared to leap out at him from the canopy. When its body dropped limply into a smoking heap the seal had been broken and chaos rained down on the golden Zabrak.

Dozens of the snarling beings dropped out of the branches swiping sharpened claws at his throat and his legs. He was born, lived and hunted in the night on Dathomir. Growing and training until he was the most fearsome thing that stalked through the forests once the sun had set. His roar tore from his throat as the red of his blade cut down any living nightmare that dared to stand in the way of his princess.

One of the creatures latched onto his back and before he could bite into Savage’s throat the Zabrak reached behind him, sank his claws into his shoulder blades and swung the monster over his head onto the rocky ground below him. An almost deafening crack of the monster’s spine rang out, killing it instantly. Igniting both sides of his saber-staff he twirled it in his hands and turned, gutting the three closest to him. The cauterization not stopping their entrails from dropping out of their now hollow bellies.

Savage leapt at the next one nearest him and tore out its esophagus with his fangs, blackened blood dripped down his chin as he stretched his arms out and gripped two more in a steely force choke. He squeezed until their heads sprang from their necks. He kicked another in its sunken chest, propelling it into the trunk of a tree. He made quick work of the remaining creatures with his saber in a barrage of quick and brutal moves.

Just before her signature gave out the last of the beasts dropped into a crumpled heap at his feet hissing out the last of their breaths. Taking off towards the flickering light he ran; ignoring the blood that seeped from the deep lacerations from the beasts’ claws.

He came upon a break in the tree line that opened into a large circular clearing. Moonlight shone on a tree that towered higher than any of the others growing in the center of the clearing. Its trunk thicker than the ship he had crashed here on. He could feel the dark side of the force ebbing and flowing from deep within it. He could smell her blood on the breeze. He could see her claw marks in the soil leading to a hollow within the trunk; sparse bloodied handprints dragged across the dead bark of the great tree. Her light was slowly being snuffed out by darkness.

He stepped inside and nearly stumbled over broken roots. With no moonlight to reflect off of his surroundings for his eyes to pick up he had to see by the light of his saber. His stomach lurched at the sight before him.

Bathed in a red glow, her body lay in the center of the hollow, barely moving. Her eyes were foggy and her chest was hardly rising or falling as they tore into her legs, her arms and her stomach.

One lifted its gaunt face from her neck, pulling a chunk of flesh away with its teeth, to shriek a warning at him. Grabbing it by its throat, he smashed its head into the ground, skull crashing under his palm and spurting black blood across the floor. He reached out with the force and pulled the other three off of her and sheathed his saber inside their chests in succession.

He looked upon his princess, bitten, bloodied, broken.

Her limbs were bent incorrectly, chunks of missing flesh revealed the muscles and tendons that lay beneath the skin.  

She lay limp on the earth.

Wet tear tracks ran from her eyes down her cheeks and pooled on the soil below, mixing with the blood that had poured out of her neck wound.

Her breath came out in rasping wheezes as she raised a trembling hand out to his face.

She didn’t have the strength to close the distance between them and when her conviction ran out, her hand fell to the earth.

He dropped to his knees beside her and lifted her into his arms, pulling her into his chest as tears pricked at his eyes. She opened her mouth and tried to speak but only a quiet gurgling left her lips, followed by droplets of blood that leaked out of the corners of her mouth. He watched her eyes cloud over as her pupils dilated from the loss of blood and she lost consciousness, going limp in his embrace.

Her pulse fluttered sporadically, weakly in his ears.  

A sob escaped him as he lay her back down on the ground and gently as he could, placed one hand on her chest and the other on her legs. Letting out one last wavering breath he closed his eyes and imagined his life force flowing from his hearts, through his arms and into her. Through the force he reached out to her, pleading for her not to leave him. Begging the gods for the strength to heal the only other love he has ever known, to allow him to repent for his brother’s murder.

He could feel his body weakening as hers started to mend itself. Flesh regrew over wounds before his very eyes, her pulse beat stronger with each passing second. Just before it became too much for him her eyes snapped open and a loud gasp left her lips. She force pushed herself away from the center of the hollow until her back thud agianst the inner wall of the tree. Glancing around the small space frantically before realizing that she and Savage were the only living beings in proximity.

“P-princess. I’m sorry I.. wasn’t… fast enough..” Savage toppled over from his knees onto his back and lost consciousness.

      When he woke, the first thing he saw was the familiar wooden ceiling of their small cabin. He groaned and raised his hand to rub his throbbing head. He had tried to sit up but two small warm hands pressed lightly agianst his chest, softly pushing him back to a laying down position.

“You must rest my love.”

He turned his head to look into your eyes and a thankful smile graced his lips before turning into a grimace.

“I did not fail…” he whispered.

“No, my sweet darling,” you cupped his cheeks in your hands and placed a lingering kiss on his lips, “you saved my life. I owe you for every breath I take now.”

“You owe me.. nothing,” his brows creased in effort, “I only returned what you have given me,” he allowed his eyes to close as you peppered his face in kisses and massaged his scalp; eliciting a rumbling purr.

“H-how did we get back here..?”

“Mira found us. You killed them all. There are no more beasts in the trees, the valley is free of them. She must have sensed it and came to our aid.”

“Mmm, remind me to save the best cuts of my next few hunts for her.”

You smiled, utterly grateful for the brave warrior that both saved your life and survived the ordeal himself.

“Please my love, rest now. You expelled much of your life force into me when you healed me. The sun will return soon, sleep.”

And so he did. Safe back home with the love of his life, he slept for days. Thanking the gods every minute for granting him what he required to vanquish the monsters that had haunted your nightmares and feasted upon your body.

While your love rested you rubbed the muscles in your arms. The creatures; bite must have been venomous. The veins in your arms and legs had blacked just under your skin and you could feel the subtle burn. Right now, all you wanted was to lay and rest with your Zabrak. Force healing could cure infections, mend bone and flesh, but toxins had to be treated appropriately. Not now, now you needed rest as much as Savage.

 Taglist :) let me know if you’d like to be tagged 

@thundersheild​ 

[smokahuntis]

Sana

Pairing: Savage Opress X Reader

Warnings: Blood, Needles, Injury, FLUFF

Summery: as the assistant to Count Dooku, you see Savage Opress often, tending to his wounds is a little bit of a habit.

Authors note: this is the shortest thing I’ve ever written for tumblr, but I just haven’t felt like writing but didn’t want to not do my requests so I am working on those rn.

(Y/n) was sitting in her room, getting ready to finally lay down after a long day of running errands for Count Dooku. Just as her back met the silk sheets her door swung open revealing a red Zabrak, no... he was yellow, and covered in red.

“Savage?!” She asked sitting up and moving towards him, helping him to sit on her bed, turning the lights on she finally got a better look at him. He was covered, she didn’t even know if some of it was his, one of his horns was even broken and in his hands as he looked at her silently, pain covering his face. “What happened?”

“They came out of nowhere I could... I- ... help me...” he said and she helped him go to her bathroom and sat him down in the counter. she made quick work of removing his robes as she looked at the large gashed and burns over his chest and arms, she let out a small gasp at his condition. (Y/n) nearly ran to grab the first aid. Grabbing the rag from her cabinet she wet it and started cleaning him off, he hissed in pain when she got to close to his wounds but he let her move on.

“Why didn’t you go to the medbay?” She asked as she pulled the Bacta-Shot from her kit.

“I don’t like them...” he grunted before she took his arm to give him the shot, he pulled away quickly. “No bacta-shot!”

“Yes! Look at you you’re hurt Savage!” She explained looking over him before taking his arm again. “Here... hold my hand...”

She didn’t have to tell him twice as he instantly took her hand into his, squeezing it as he felt the needle go into his skin, and a sting filled his veins before she pulled it out and throw it away.

“See that’s not so bad...” she said rubbing the spot on his arm so it didn’t bruise. She slowly pulled her hand away from his as she grabbed her needles and thread. “This however, might hurt...”

he groaned just letting her do it as he felt the cool metal pole threw his skin, it felt like hours but she was quick. Soon she was wrapping him up with bandages. Smoothing her hand over them one last time she looked up at him.

“They should start feeling soon...you’ll be okay...” she whispered and brought her hand up to caress his cheek, causing him to look down at her, a small smile forming on his face as he leaned into her touch. His skin was warm against her hand and she loved it, the room around them was cold so it felt good to feel his warmth.

“You’re cold?” He asked and she shook her head before stuttering a response.

“What, how did you kno-“ before she could finish he stood up taking her into her large arms and caring her to the bed.

“You take care of me, let me take care of you, my sun...” he said kissing her head lightly before laying down with her.

“But your hurt-“

“And I want to hold you... now lay down” he held her tightly to him but not tight enough to hurt him or her. She sighed finally giving in and cuddling closer to him, feeling the warmth of the Zabrak flood threw her as she finally drifted to sleep.

“Thank you, my sun...”

—

In the morning she woke up first because of her alarm, after all she was still Dooku’s assistant and still had to work. She had almost forgotten about Savage completely until she felt his strong arm pull her closer when she tired to get up.

“Savage?” She asked tiredly as her hand fell on his. He groaned into her ear sending shivers down her spine.

“Stay...”

“But count Dooku he-“

“I’m deal with him... just stay with me a little longer...” he kissed her temple and she moved to face him, his eyes opened a little bit to look at her, her small hand coming up to rest on his cheek.

“I don’t want to get in trouble...”

“You won’t, I’ll take the blame, My Sun...” he kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“But-“

“I’ll be here when you wake up I promise...”

Taglist: @hxldmxdxwn @extraordinarygrrls