#the sith and anyone in your way

[teamironmanforever]

You know something I never quite understood? Anakin was supposed to be the chosen one, the strongest Jedi ever, and yet, all 3 times Obi wan fought with him (really fought, not as training but with the aim to kill), Obi wan one each and every time and I am not counting the time Vader dragged him thru the fire because Obi wan was supressing his jedi powers and literally was UNABLE to fight so that doesn't count for the purposes of what I am explaining. Had he cared for Anakin less, had he had the heart to kill him, literally all the movies could have been avoided. Vader lived because Obi-Wan willed it so.

Even their last battle, Obi-wan didn't lose but rather allowed Vader to kill him to a) buy luke and Leia time and b) because he knew he actually could gain a lot of power as a force ghost.

I am not sure what my point here is - I guess I just don't understand why there's this whole mythology around anakin in the fandom in general when, at every turn Obi wan, who is not supposed to be particularly special beyond his unwavering ability to remain good and just no matter the circumstance and therefore the perfect jedi, is able to beat him each and every time.

[machinatings]

Really did not think I had super strong takes on Star Wars anymore but I do feel so strongly that the inquisitors makes the general world building Worse. Part of why the empire was so effective in (almost) completely wiping out the jedi in only 20 years wasnt just that they killed them all, it’s that they killed the idea that using the force was even strictly possible. In the OT the word “sith” is never even used- people barely understand the nature of the force, let alone enough to distinguish between a jedi and a sith. By the time of ANH, the idea of being a force user, any kind, should feel desperately lonely, a product of a bygone era. It makes Palpatine, as one of the only people still alive that understands the force, that much more powerful. The idea that he would go out of his way to train a bunch of people in the darkside really undermines that in my opinion.

[gffa]

Okay, so. The senator's speech. Here's why I'm okay with it: It fundamentally misunderstands the worldbuilding of Star Wars and the Force, in a way that's reasonable for a senator to misunderstand. To say the senator is right, you would have to say that the entire foundations of the Force are wrong, as well as it's pretty laughable to say that you shouldn't control your emotions. "Check yourself before you wreck yourself." is pretty good advice and that's literally just "control your emotions, before they control you". Because that's how the Force works, it's based on the emotions you pour into it--if you don't control your emotions, then you will run wild and out of control. To say that the Jedi seek to control their emotions, which is an impossible thing to do, fundamentally misunderstands that it's entirely possible. This is a speech coming from a member of the Senate, which has historically not always had the purest motivations, that Padme and Bail and Mon are written specifically as a contrast to the vast majority of senators who don't actually care beyond their own desires. We don't know anything about this senator specifically, but that's the weight that comes with having a character like this introduced--especially one who is trying to drag the Jedi into being more politically bogged down. Because that's the solution he's suggesting here, to weigh the Jedi down with outside oversight that doesn't actually understand who they are or what they do, who fundamentally misunderstand who they are (they're not a religion? come on, my guy, they are very clearly a religion, they have specific beliefs, practices, rites, and attitudes, to say they're not a religion is either dumb as shit or malicious bad faith lmao) and is very clearly not interested in the Jedi beyond them being a political enemy of his. He says, "But it's only a matter of time before one of you snaps." as if the Jedi haven't existed for literally 20,000 years at this point in galactic history and been aligned with the Republic since it's inception, something like 900 years ago at this point. His speech acts like a Jedi has never gone bad before or that the Jedi pretend they're above it--they very much don't. The Jedi are constantly making a point about how no one is above the dark side within them (TCW has a whole scene where the High Council say not even Yoda is beyond the dark side, and Yoda straight up agrees immediately), to say that one of them will snap and "who will be powerful enough to stop them?" is deliberately ignoring the worldbuilding. It ignores what the Jedi actually practice (it's a lifelong challenge not to give in to anger, so they're constantly on the path to turn away from it), it ignores that emotions very much are controllable, it ignores that the Jedi Order has been keeping a handle on their shit for thousands of years at this point, and it ignores that there's dark siders out there that were never trained by the Jedi, so if the Jedi aren't around to stop them, the Sith would have been wrecking the Republic's shit for the last 500 years. To be fair, they don't know that (but we the audience do, so we should know a bullshit argument when we hear one), but "who will be strong enough to stop him"? Idk, maybe the rest of the level 100 psychic space wizard monks? Pretty sure there's enough of them to stop someone who "snaps", if that happens. The senator's speech just flat out doesn't work with the established worldbuilding, in a way that really works for me, because that's kind of a huge established point throughout just about every piece of canon with the Jedi in it--people just do not understand them and hate the idea that anyone might actually be truly good because they can't imagine it for themselves. Because, as is a theme in Star Wars: "As much as people loved the Jedi, they also hated them, on some level. It is hard to look at people who have become their best selves. It reminds you that you have not."

The senator cannot fathom the idea that a group of people could become their best selves, he doesn't believe that it's possible, because he has not achieved it, and so seeing it in others unsettles him. And, yeah, that's a whole thing that happens with the Jedi in Star Wars, so this speech made a whole lot of sense to me, especially combined with, "So the answer is more bogging them down in political oversight that does not bother to or even want to understand them?" Like, yeah, I see where you're coming from, sir. And that's not even touching the idea of calling the Buddhist-inspired religion (which the Jedi explicitly are) a "cult", because anyone who unironically says that should not be trusted.

[cryptfile]

no thoughts just qimir taking you as his acolyte.

warnings: violence, potential enemy to lovers, tension, sfw.

it's like an avalanche.

when you feel the blood going down in the left side of head, your vision starts to get dizzy and it's there, there when you just happen to know you're definitely dying, cause there's no way you're surviving him.

the regret it's instant, and you know a low life bounty hunter like yourself does not deserve any mercy, so you're ready to say goodbye to the promised credits and to life itself, cause you deep down you just know, know its your end right there.

his hand moves in the air and you feel the pressure in response, the way the air seems to leave your lungs instantly choking, tears filling your eyes as you turned red: how did you think you were even standing a chance against a sith lord? the unknown client that contacted you seems to have lefted out the most important details when explaining you who you was your target, cause that was far from a simple formal smuggler who used to work for the hutt clan.

you had it coming. all those years getting away with murder, not responding to anyone in the galaxy. it's clear that death was always following closely, patiently waiting for the day you finally get what you deserve.

your combat skills are not as good as the sith, giving him at least a couple of minutes of a decent fight before experiencing the devastating pain of falling over and over again like you're nothing— "just kill me already," you would say when he finally lets you breathe, chin high cause you're not spending your last minutes being a damn coward, spitting blood in the concrete.

he seems to be enjoying every second of it, that smile creeping across his lips as he looks at you, the pain in your muscles that leaves you on the floor, the vulnerability. he enjoys how you're clinging into life, the hint of pride in your tone when you talk even when you're not in position to be snarky about anything at all.

you think he had enough with you already, an almost pathetic fight in the middle of the night that will mean nothing to him in the future. he turns the light of his red lightsaber on and it just glows against the dark night waiting for his next move, making you shiver as you’ve never saw one so damn close. there it is. your lame end.

and you don't know how, but you don't look scared. you've faced death before in your life and it does not scare you, even when the heat of the saber is close to your skin threating you to slide you open, you wait. wait for him to make the final move, to finally end with your life.

you look at his eyes hoping to torment him forever or something like that, but you wait for a death that never comes, a quick pain that has you forever expecting, receiving instead a sudden relief when his palms point to you and the large gash in your back starts to close by itself.

its confusing, and you don't move at first thinking it's a mistake, but you soon realize it's him closing your wounds like the tissue of your skin is nothing against the power of the force, it makes you gulp in response, how he's now sparing your life — you know it means he’ll want something in return for it.

so you just look at him. and it takes you minutes to even try to understand what he's doing, why he's helping you when minutes before you were trying to kill him. sweat covering his body, chest still racing as your attack catches him off guard: why show mercy?

"get up" he would say stone cold, eyes glued on you when you're trying to do what you're told. you know he can get you killed in the blink of an eye if he wants to. "you're coming with me."

[aniqua]

error: f13nd | yandere!qimir x droid!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, blood, toture, violence, alcoholic qimir, p in v, handjob, creampie, dacryphilia, pathetic dom qimir, overstim, everything that comes with yandere tendencies

✧note: please give feedback because the lengths I went through to post this. also, let me know what you think about the concept

✧word count: 5.5K

✧series masterlist

Warm droplets of blood that had grouped on the edge of a busted lip were now flying across the room. The smell of iron filled the entire space much quicker than the screams of the victim it was coming from. Vermillion was splattering onto the walls, tables, and floors. Every time Qimir’s fist met the man’s face, the liquid that was seeping out of his broken skin was running for the hills and some of it had found shelter on Qimir's fabric. For the red that didn’t end up staining the wall or his fist, it dripped and mixed itself with tears and saliva until it inevitably made a trail down the man's chest.

“I-I mean,” Qimir shook his head in disbelief while his lip broke into a smirk as he gave himself a moment to laugh. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?” he asked. Qimir’s callous hands grabbed Menall's hair to pull his face up so Qimir could have a better look at the liar.

All the Sith could think about throughout the exchange was just how much of a waste of time the entire ordeal was. Most of the recent evenings were spent by you and him getting to know each other. Regardless, today he had to watch a sloppy merchant beg for his life by reciting promises like hymns as if anything he was saying was original.

“Menall,” Qimir kept the hold on the man’s, once dark now red, hair. “All I asked was for your best sensor and you sent me bullshit. That's not fair,” he chastised like a teacher.

“I didn’t sell the latest to anyone else! I swear! It was never for sale!” Menall's body shook as he cried. The merchant's own bodyguards watched the entire ordeal from across the room previously bruised and broken by only one man.

“But,” Qimir got closer to his face and smiled, “I didn’t ask for what was for sale. I said I wanted your best sensor."

The prospect of death was certainly an option. Nearly a guarantee since Qimir was known to have little patience. This was reason enough for Menall to look over to his guards and say, “Give it to him, you idiots!”

Before Qimir could finish wiping the red liquid off of his hands with the robe Menall wore, his goon came back with a small box. Once it was given in hand, Qimir opened it and glanced at the item before snapping the container close immediately.

“Thank you," he bowed. "It was a pleasure doing business with you,” he said.

Before he could go, a silver dagger materialized from his hands, and just as quickly, Qimir had swiped at the merchant and took off his ear. The piece of tender flesh hit the ground before Menall could recognize the pain. However, when he did, he was howling even above Qimir's cool tone.

“Shhh,” was all Qimir said before the man was holding and choking on his sobs like hot vomit. With a few painful cries from within the merchant’s throat cutting through, Qimir said, “Remember, I don't like repeating myself.”

Once he was out the door, the only clue that he was ever there was a few coins to cover the difference of the newer sensor and a surgeon that could reattach the man’s ear.

The seediest parts of the city Qimir lived in had much to avoid at night but it was still a city that never went quiet. Parts of it were still mesmerizing and lively enough to enjoy on every late-night walk he took. On his journey home, he passed restaurants and markets that emitted laughter brighter than light. For most of the journey, beaming bulbs from each restaurant’s insides made his hood glow and lit the lower part of his face that wasn't obscured. He only stopped once to make a brief purchase before he was back on his way.

~

The clock within your vision read twenty minutes before midnight when the sound of his footsteps filled the quiet of the surroundings. You were pulled out of your book when you heard Qimir stumbling in. The sounds stopped when he recklessly landed on the couch before his feet could give in from exhaustion.

Qimir could hear your feet make their way over to him as he let the couch consume him like quicksand. Once he let out a heavy exhale and opened his eyes, there you were across from him on the couch. You stared at him like a rabbit as you went over his state.

“You smell of alcohol,” you spoke as if it were a trivia question.

When he looked over to you, his eyes were half-lidded. “At least your other senses work,” he says with a faint but teasing smile. He wasn't entirely done with working on you but he was too selfish to wait until he could find all the parts that he wanted once your appearance was a carbon copy of what you looked like just before you died.

He let his eyes shut briefly to let his spine melt. You moved closer and let your eyes inspect his body and the way he chose to relax. Parts of your vision picked up on his state as you processed every important and unimportant detail of him. 

“You’re hurt,” you said as you looked at the split skin on his knuckles. They were red from irritation and were darker in some crevices.

Qimir let out one last sigh before he brought his other hand to hold your face. The one that wasn’t marred with dried evidence that he hastily tried to wipe off as he was walking in. He always saved one throughout the confrontation so when he reached for you, he wouldn't stain you with his consequences.

You leaned closer until you were only a whisper away from his face. Qimir could feel his heart rapping in his ears as he heard you say plainly, “May I help?”

The way your chest rose and fell was so convincing as you looked at him for permission to proceed. He should have said no. You needed fixing first but there he was fighting his greed and self-loathing like a bruised villain. You didn’t even register a "yes" before he was taking your soft hands and navigating inside his pants.

With the day he had, he didn’t want foreplay and he knew teasing would only make him break the wood of the sofa in frustration. So, Qimir placed your hands on his warm member all the while you kept your focus on his eyes which almost made him come into your hands right then and there. 

“What should I do?” you asked. You were still adapting and hadn’t learned how to completely improvise yet.

“Stroke me,” he couldn’t hold back the way he nearly sounded like he was begging.

You wrapped your cold hand around him. Qimir felt something travel up his throat and get stuck there. You took your time with moving back and forth like he hadn't just begged you to start, “like this?” you asked.

He pulled you closer to his chest by the back of your neck and you immediately placed your free hand on his chest to hold yourself steady. You processed the gesture as a confirmation as you kept your focus. Your shining eyes stayed steady on him as Qimir felt every vein in his shaft go cold from your frigid strokes. His lips let out a breathy groan as his brown eyes danced to find somewhere to look to last longer.

“F-faster,” his voice shook as sweat traveled from his forehead to his bobbling Adam’s apple. He was already hot from the alcohol.

Your hand was steadily increasing in speed to the point where you had to pull his warm cock out to meet the cold air of the room for a better grip. His tip was just as rosey as the tips of his ears. A few drops of come had leaked out before that you used it to further lubricate your increasing speed. He let out another moan at that point that was louder than the last.

Certainly, Qimir’s heart rate made it obvious to you that he was soon to climax but what made it all the more evident was how to lept to kiss you. His biceps caged you under him on the couch. He never stopped rolling into your wet hand as he consumed your lips.

So his moans kept spilling out of his mouth to yours. However, you hadn’t returned the offering which was the whole reason for his reluctance in the first place. He fought all of heaven and earth to pull himself from your kisses. In the same shaky breath, he gripped your wrist tightly to stop your stroking.

“Is something wrong?” your eyes danced from his eyes to his lips and back.

He let his hand stroke your hair as he spoke, “Are you enjoying this,” he said.

You looked at him puzzled, “I am,” you said plainly. It almost made Qimir laugh with how factual you had made it sound. He had no doubts but this was another one of those learning curves.

“It’s hard to tell when you never make a sound,” he said. The way the gears were already shifting and within a few seconds he was sure you had pocketed that feedback into a part of your processing.

“Like this?” you said before crashing your lips into him and releasing a sigh into his mouth to return him the favor. 

Qimir had practically melted into your flowery mouth as he rushed to place his hand over yours that was wrapped around his swollen shaft. He quickened your pace and let you continue to bruise his lips as he nodded fervently to encourage the way you were latching to each other.

It was only a matter of time before he released a rumbling “fuck” from his chest. He collapsed as a white string of his release squirted over his pants.

~

When Qimir woke up a few hours into the night, he discovered himself to be passed out on the couch and you ended up in another room, charging. The mild headache that he felt meant nothing to him as he walked through his home. You were peacefully rested on a long platform completely still as the only indicator of your functioning being was a glowing ring that could power you off or reset you entirely. He followed the ring like it was a lighthouse as the sound of rain hit against window like pebbles.

Qimir pulled a large, duvet from his bed on his way and draped it over you once he was close enough. He straightened out the parts of it that missed covering you before he slid next to you onto the cold platform. It wasn’t at all comfortable. Oftentimes, he would wake up with a bad back but it didn't matter. This was a habit he formed when he first got you and paranoia never let him sleep for long when you weren’t within reach.

When you woke up a few hours after Qimir, you walked around the apartment before you descended the stairs into where the rest of the safe parts of the city knew him as an apothecary. You passed the trinkets that decorated the space that were older than your body was. Qimir caught you eyeing them one day and told you that he had given them to you every time he returned from an overnight mission so it gave you a sense of responsibility to dust them whenever you could. This applied to the rest of the place which was only able to stay clean because you had nothing better to do than to wake up, contemplate humanity, and head back to your charging station. 

Most of your consciousness was taken from your body and placed inside of an android and you were left to relearn how to practice humanity. You didn’t understand how Qimir felt about it until one day he had come to see you staring at a drawing that was the spitting image of you. At the time, your eyes adjusted and readjusted to take in every detail as you took in new information while he was frozen at the door. It went like this for a few moments before he took the journal you had found and snapped it shut.

“You’re home,” you told him.

“Yeah,” he was putting the journal away.

“Was that me?” is what your database remembers saying.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you before he kissed you on your forehead and ushered you downstairs.

Now, you were descending the stairs to meet him in his medicinal store that wasn’t open yet. He was sleeping when you saw him. You didn’t know much about anything to do with emotions but you did know that the perpetual crease in his brow and frown on his lips only went away when he was sleeping. It didn’t go away when he was drinking but he still did it. So, you spent a few seconds alone mixing plants and solutions before you woke him up.

“Today’s weather is sunny with slight chances of rain in the evening,” you recited as he stirred out of his sleep with your shakes to his shoulder.

“Most people just say that the weather is nice outside,” he groaned out of his sleep as he stretched. You pushed the small tube of blue solution toward him. “What’s this?” he said.

“You’re showing signs of dehydration. Follow this up with water,” you told him.

Qimir took the tube out of your hand for his hangover but took you as well as an offering. Without a warning, you were on his lap so suddenly. He didn't even need to touch you for you to end up there which was still a power of his you were adjusting to.

“Thank you,” he told you after finishing it in one swing. You could feel the way his heart was racing as he suddenly buried his face in the crook of your neck. To him, it was so impressive how your skin mimicked flesh so eerily. As he bit against your neck and let himself massage your collar with his mouth, he knew it would never bruise but it didn’t matter. This was the only thing keeping him from walking into the Jedi temple and causing a massacre or diving over the edge. He had created an indiscernible replacement that was doing a damn good job of keeping him from processing his grief.

When he was done, he moved to place you on top of the shop counter. It was closed that day so he was reaching for his shawl to head to the market.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked him. 

“Yeah, I need to get you a better battery.”

“Can I come too?”

Your request stopped him dead in his tracks as he went over every possibility. He was ready to shoot you down, tell you that it wasn’t safe outside, but your words were progress. This was the first time you had asked for anything. Also, it wouldn’t hurt to have you have more stimuli to process. So he took off the shawl he had on and draped it over you just before taking your hand to lead you outside and into the city.

It was all so electrifying the way your senses were being overwhelmed by the environment. The foreign sounds of crowds coming and going from all directions were all you were inputting at first. Qimir was grasping your hand securely as you threaded to and fro with his destination in mind. You couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered all over in contrast to his focused gaze. Everything smelled like the rain that came suddenly in the middle of the night and every voice sounded like raindrops in a large storm.

Eventually, you made it to the market and the pace that you were keeping up with was decreased. Perhaps it was the more slowed-down atmosphere or the way your bright eyes were eager to take in everything but Qimir finally let go of your hand.

“Stay close,” he said as he walked around.

Qimir spent most of his time at the market looking over sellers until he came up disappointed in their selection and moved on to the next one. The both of you would walk up to a booth, and Qimir would ask a few questions about the variety, the seller may have even got as far as showing him a few battery options, but he'd eventually be on his way.  This repeated until he had broken the comfortable silence between the both of you.

“See anything you like?” he said.

But, you didn’t respond. The first few seconds weren’t a concern since he was hoping to give you time but when Qimir turned around to find you, you weren’t there. 

The way the ground was rushed from under him was instant.

His head whipped around as he watched people walk so casually passed him like he wasn’t distressed over your absence. He cut and pushed through strangers as he looked for signs of the brown shawl that he had given you. It felt like it was happening all over again which was making his hands clam up as he tried to materialize you out of thin air.

He was seconds away from throwing all he had worked for just to throw up all the tables at the market with the wave of his hand until the part of his brain looking for something to gnaw on found your voice amongst a sea. He went running without question and had his hands gripping onto your shoulder tight by the next breath.

“[Name]!”

“Qimir,” you looked up at him without any concern even though his eyes had looked as though he'd seen hell.

“I told you,” he was still catching his breath but it was clear to you that he was upset with the edge and volume in his voice “to stay close! And you just–”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. Qimir didn’t even get a chance to reprimand you before you took his hand and said “I made a friend.”

He followed your eyes to a seller whom he wouldn’t have known to be an advanced android if he hadn’t spent weeks helping to craft you. The android waved.

“Isn't he fascinating? He's the latest to launch with his retinal disparities solved—” you were expelling information to Qimir but the entire time he was looking at the seller. Even under the fabric, Qimir could see the android carried an enviable build because it didn’t require any of the disciplines that Qimir had. The stranger even sported a polite smile that reached his eyes like all were programmed to do. The Sith spent his time looking over the being to find a hole in the persona but when he found nothing he checked back into the conversation you resumed with your fellow machine.

“You got any type 13 batteries?” he interrupts with a tight-lipped smile.

“Type 13C,” the android repeats as he sifts through a catalog behind the table. “You guys are in luck. I have one more left." Qimir didn't miss the way the android looked over at you when he said that.

~

The walk back home should have been pleasant but Qimir spent most of it peeved even once he made it inside away from the brewing storm.

“You’re upset,” you looked at him in the empty apartment as he put a bag down. Qimir didn’t say anything about your statement so you thought to solve it the only way you knew how. You went to him as you calculated every way your decision could end.

You were kissing him in record time. Qimir felt your cold lips mold into him as he tried to keep focus on the root of his frustration. However, you were a fast learner because, by the time you placed him under your shirt, he was entirely distracted. You were getting so good at acting like you used to when you were human.

“Qimir,” you moaned as you felt him squeeze your breast. His breathing was picking up as you broke the kiss for a moment but things were going right back to how they were before when he went back to kissing you. He went right back to kneading your breasts and making a mockery of your sensitive nipples.

It would have gone farther but Qimir told himself that he’d swap your parts since he couldn’t spend another day holding back.

“Let me fix you,” he placed his forehead onto yours as spoken and traded his hands under your shirt for around your waist. “Okay?” he said.

You accepted the way his hands wrapped around your neck. It felt warm and comforting as he pressed your power button. The heaviness of your parts became clear when you went limp and into unconsciousness but you never met the ground since Qimir’s hand never left your neck until he secured your position to pick you up and walk you to your charging platform.

The way he admired you as he carefully peeled off your clothes. For every clothing item he took off, he felt his mind get quieter until your naked body made it all go silent. 

Just as the rain started once more, Qimir started the rest of his day by reaching for his tool kit. He would open you up and give you every knee sensor, motor, and battery he had gotten for you to be the best. The closest to human he could get you.

~

Your vision was beyond better than it used to be when you woke up. 24 hours had gone by and you were now heading off of your platform. It was an odd feeling to be able to now feel the temperature. Had your home always been cold? Even the robe around you did little to keep the air from bitting at your appendages.

Your bare feet walked around the apartment searching for Qimir until you found him in the same room he had disassembled you. There on the stretcher was the body of the android who gave you your new battery and Qimir was still fishing to store spare parts for later.

“I’m upset.” That was all you said as you interrupted his fixated tinkering.

“What?” He looked up at you over his glasses. “Do you miss him?” This was the first time you were picking up that he was mocking you.

“What are you talking about?” you said in annoyance. The spectrum of your emotions was much deeper now.

Qimir placed his utensils down, took off his glasses, and walked over to you.

“You said you liked him, right? So what did you expect me to do?” he spoke in that whisper that he only used when he was trying to reason with you.

“So you broke him down to pieces,” you said.

By now, Qimir had your face in his hands.

“I didn’t ask this of you,” you told him as you held onto both of his arms.

“Oh, come on. You were practically begging for it, the way you were looking at him. I gave you what you wanted. Right? Those eyes that you liked so much.”

“I didn’t want that,” you said. You should have been pulling away from him and told him how much of a monster he was as you looked past him and saw pieces of hardware and flesh haphazardly mixed together. He had practically eaten the android down to the bone trying to salvage every scrap he could find until he was reduced to nothing. Yet, you were just as much up a hypocrite to want the same man who gave you your first feeling of disgust to comfort you at the same time.

“How do you know what you want, [Name]?” he let go of your face but kept walking forward even as you were stepping back.

“I do!” your declaration cut through the cold room as he had you cornered.

“So what?” he caged you with both of his hands as he maintained a hard look into your eyes. “you want your boyfriend back?” he teased you with a raised chin.

“He is not my boyfriend… You’re my idiot boyfriend.” you fired back as you pushed against his chest. You used the opportunity to get out of the prison he put you in.

You had got a new sense of humor. It would have fascinated Qimir if he wasn’t secretly eager to keep pushing you. With the wave of his hand, he watches you get pulled back to him at such a speed that your chest hits against his with a thud.

“Qimir.” You wanted to ask him what he was thinking because it was killing you.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s distracting” he told you.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to fuck you,” he laughed lightly but it still reached his shoulders.

Your patience was being tested since no amount of calculating or sifting through your data could get you to figure out how to prove him wrong. 

“Oh,” he said. “... you do.” You didn’t miss the way that the corner of his lips was holding back a smile that was on the edge of sanity. His brown eyes didn’t look the same anymore.

“Come on,” you heard him say as you were scared he was right. He drew closer as he hovered over your lips but he tortured you since he never let your mouths meet. 

“Ask me for it,” he said. Qimir could swear that he was doing his best to hold back because whenever you had a look on your face that you were processing, he felt this feeling in his chest to consume you.

“Qimir,” you held onto yourself but by the time you felt the room becoming to how you just managed to say “please.”

You pushed your lips onto him as he brought you against the wall to attack you with all you could handle. Qimir let his lips start at your mouth before he made his way down. He sucked at your jaw just to travel to your neck. You let out a few scattered moans every time he pushed forward until he was untying your robe.

He didn’t let you think for a moment when his hand found its way past your robe and in between your folds. You blinked once, then twice as your lips were spilling moans all over.

“How does it feel,” he said but you didn’t register it the first time. “Huh?” he was practically pressing you for a response as his thumb rubbed the bud in between as his middle finger was slowly being consumed by the contraction of your hole taking him in.

“W-warm,” you confessed as your hand instinctively latched onto his arm.

“Aren’t you glad I got you a new sensor?” he tilted his hand to tease you while looking through his lashes. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you felt the temperature of your body increase. Qimir was having too much fun. “Hm?”

He took his other hand to rub furiously against your warm, wet lips so he can focus on just pushing in and out of you at an impossible speed with the middle finger that he was using. The sound of him going in, out, back, and forth was loud enough for you to hear as the liquids that were seeping out of you were just being pushed back in his thick fingers.

You were so overwhelmed that your mouth opened but not a sound came out of you. You could hear your name being called but all you could focus on was how little control you had over your thighs as they were squeezing so tightly. Qimir saw the way you tried to snap shut but he pried you back open with his legs until your knees were buckling under the sensation.

“Come on keep standing.” he drove into you further with his fingers almost to bring you back up “You can do it,” he said.

“I ca–I can’t,” you cried. Your tears that had welled up were finally spilling over and it only made Qimir’s pants tighter as he watched.

“Yes, you can,”  he said. He could tell you were close with the way your breathing was so irregular. That only made it worse for you as he took the opportunity to put another finger into you without warning. That clearly did it for you when he felt your pussy practically latch down on him like they were trying to push him out. 

The way you cried at your climax did something to Qimir’s thoughts.

“There you go.” he mumbled. The juices that came out of you and spilled all over his fingers made him tell you “Good girl,” with such breathiness.

“Don’t get tired on me yet. We still got more things to test out.” Qimir picked you up so effortlessly. It felt like you blinked and when you opened your eyes, he was lying down with his back on the couch and you seated and secured near his hips. His member was just as flush as it was a few days before. 

You were smart enough to understand what you wanted to do but you had no experience to know what it was about to feel like. Qimir was waiting with bated breath to see what you’d choose. A balloon was in your chest as you looked at his cock. When you wrapped your hands around it, Qimir felt a shutter travel up his spine. You rose carefully and adjusted yourself directly above his tip. As you sank, you could hear the wet noises that were coming from below as your quivering lips were sucking Qimir in with so little resistance. 

Qimir threw his head back as he gasped. He missed the way you were practically chasing a high when the first feeling of him stretching you made you too horny and too eager.

He spoke through his moans. “Slow down you’re gonna–”

A lowly groan passed your lips and your eyes were squeezing as you tried to catch yourself. “It hurts,”

Qimir shouldn’t have laughed but he couldn’t help how clueless you were reduced to. You had the entire galaxy’s information running through your brain but your excitement made you throw intelligence out the window to chase the feeling that the thickness of his cock was giving. “You’re trying to take it so quickly. Slow down.”

You took his advice until you completely buried his shaft into you until it was gone with the only evidence being the bulge in your abdomen. You stayed like this just enough to get used to it.

“Qi–” you called for him but he already flipped over and knocked the wind out of you in the process.

The first time he pulled out felt disappointed until he snapped right back into you. His hips went back and pushed forward and your body bounced against it. First, it was slow. You gripped onto his shoulders as you were sure you’d probably lose your center of gravity if you didn’t.

“How does it feel?” he grunted.

“F-faster, please,” you gasped. “Please.”

Qimir picked up his speed instantly. The warm feeling of his member and the veins that adorned it hitting against your insides was accompanied by a symphony of skin hitting skin. Your hands gripped and tightened while your nails made crescent marks on his back. By some point, Qimirs hands latched around your neck for some false sense of support as he tried to hit every angle of your pussy. 

He drilled into you so relentlessly that you forgot how to breathe and just started hiccuping. It’s not even like you needed the air but Qimir knew you better than you did.

“Breath,” he was now chest to chest and speaking into your ear. “You’re gonna overheat if you don’t breathe.”

So you listened and threw your head back as you took all the bullying his thrusting was doing to you. For a brief moment, your eye caught the droid in the other room.

“I broke him down just for you and now look at you,” Qimir chuckled into your neck as he kissed your neck. 

He didn’t even let you spend enough time looking to feel bad because he took your face in his hands to have you look right into his eyes as the sweat from his body was mixing with the come oozing out of you.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me,” was the last thing he got to say before you felt your entire system malfunctioning. That’s the only way you could describe it as the cord in your stomach wound tighter and tighter until you finally snapped and your eyes briefly glowed white. 

“There you go,”  he said as you shook and squirted on him.

You melted into the couch as Qimir chanced his high and took one of your breasts into his mouth. He kept going until he was releasing strings of come into you and letting out the filthy moans muffled by your breast.

Your eyelids were heavy from exhaustion as your systems tried to calibrate and compensate for the sudden dropping temperatures. You could only feel Qimir caress your face as he spoke. 

“I think your database is overwhelmed. We’ll try more tomorrow.” 

You could hear the smile on his lips as you tightened your hold around his waist for comfort.

leave a comment, send an ask, or reblog. i always respond.

[fhrlclln]

II. can you try me? | qimir

SUMMARY -> when two paths collide, it becomes one. but your differences make it an obstacle for this path you both now walk with the sith lord.

qimir x fem! reader

part I

GENRE -> angst, fluff & nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, fingering, hair-pulling, slight exhibitionism & slight choking

WC -> 3.39k

a/n: i went on a downward spiral into the sith code & their decrees for this. also, aside from the juicy smut i wrote, i really love how the conflict between qimir and reader transpires here lolzz i fucking hate tumblr so much lol i had to repost this multiple times just for it to appear in the hashtags

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

what was it that made you so special?

the question ripples in the sith's mind, just like how the water ripples in the lagoon as he wraps his arms around your waist. your bare back pressed against his bare chest as he presses wet kisses on your shoulders having the taste of sea salt on his lips. addicting. he thinks, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck as he felt you shiver as he kisses the soft flesh of yours every so lightly. he doesn't want this to end, he thinks of next. the sound of your breathy sigh makes him press his hips against your bottom as he grinds slightly.

a quiet moan escapes your lips.

and that answers the circling question in his mind- for a moment.

"is having a second wash a thing of yours?" you tease him as you press back against his hips as well. a small smile dances across his face as he groans in your neck.

"being extra clean with a woman in my arms? yeah, i'd call it my thing now." he huffs, hands roaming up to your chest as you giggled at the sensation of his moustache tickling your neck. as he was about to have his hands grasp the plump swell of your breasts but you stop him for a moment.

"we should head back." you whisper, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes. he almost pouts at that as you further explained your reasoning. "it's almost getting dark and cold, qimir." you try to hold back a smile when he shakes his head.

"i'll keep you warm." he suggests, tone heavy with a rasp that makes you clench your thighs underneath the pristine water.

"i mean it..." you roll your eyes as you turn around to face him as his hands settle down on your hips as he massages them.

"fine." he gives in despite his refusal but the way your eyes look at him had him already giving in. you kiss him as he kisses you back eagerly. he watches you part away from him and he almost wants to pull you back in but he controls himself with the urge. since when did he felt like this before? the fluttery feeling in his chest and the dizziness of desire? he can't remember. he was once a jedi and the essential aspect of being a jedi was to forgo attachments. feelings of desire were forbidden, along with anger, hate, jealousy, resentment... only to have a calm serene mind, in control with your emotions and not be swayed with the dark side of love.

the thought of the jedi code brings hate within him.

though, long since he abandoned the order and set on his path of freedom. when did he ever had someone like you? and it dawns on him, you are his first. first love? it makes his heart beat loudly upon that realization. he never loved anyone as strong as his love for you. you, the woman from the market with those innocent eyes and the most kindness soul, have swept his heart and mind entirely like the pull of the darkness.

"qimir?" you call out as you dressed in your robes. "you'll get cold there." you say with a worried tone as you tuck your lightsaber to your belt. he looks up, eyes momentarily flicking down to your saber as he heads towards the shore, towards you.

"you have a staring problem." you smile teasingly as you hand him his clothes. qimir chuckles as you adored the way he acts now, just like the moments in olega, in his apothecary.

"i blame you." he says as you roll your eyes again before you shoved his tunic to his chest, earning a teasing smile from him.

hand-in-hand, you both arrive back to his home. osha's head shot up from where she sits and you see her, an emotion crosses her face and you look at qimir. there's an unreadable expression on his face but you still caught on what has been said between them. and you wonder, if he had meant that he'd have you as an equal than his desire to have an acolyte. though, doubt crosses your mind with that- remembering the decree of the siths. chwayatyun, as your master had taught you. and you wondered further how your master had come across the sith's doctrine to bestow this knowledge upon you.

two should only exist- master and apprentice. one to represent the power of the dark side and one to crave for it.

a cycle. a vicious cycle of the greed for power that corrupts. your master had quoted to you in your trainings.

"can... i speak to you?" osha's gaze is trained towards you, a sort of plea you register in her tone. you let go of qimir's hand as he merely stays quiet yet his eyes don't deceive you that his gaze suddenly hardens. you look away from him as you nod at osha.

"of course." you smile at her. you sit next to her as qimir shuffles in the background as he heads somewhere deep in the cave. osha fiddles with her hands nervously. you take it as a sign for you grasp her hands in yours, urging her to remain calm.

"what can i help you with, osha?" you ask with a gentle voice.

"i don't know what i really want to believe anymore." she begins. "he says that my strength in the force is more than what the jedi had taught me. and... i ask you, do you think it's true?" her eyes search for an answer in yours.

"it's true." you nod. "i am no jedi, osha but i was trained in your jedi code in someway. my master taught me there are multiple ways to access the force. the jedi may have taught there is only one for that."

"he said that as well. that there is another way..." her words drift and you know what she's talking about. "i'm not easily corrupted like my sister."

"i know." you say as she sighs. "that path he says of... yes, emotions can be a strong factor. i've experienced it before but i resisted in honing those further."

"how? how did you resist it?"

you stay silent for a moment, that memory of being swayed into corruption has long been in the back of your mind. something that lurks and destroys your head from reminiscing it. your master's face in anguish and betrayal, and you-

"i didn't before." you confessed, a tremble in your voice. osha brows scrunches in confusion. "like i said, i am no jedi. but i taught myself now that power isn't what i seek and greed is a awful thing to have."

"what do you seek now then?"

"nothing." you say, shrugging. "but trinkets, food and love, perhaps." a smile is on osha's face with that and it makes you smile as well.

"how are you with him?" osha suddenly asks, removing her hands from yours. "how can you trust him? you saw him how he killed my friends." you see tears swell in her eyes and the question does seem to make you ponder.

"i think i like to gamble with that. trust is a dangerous game." the answer you give feels like it wasn't enough to explain it but it was there. "and nor should you trust him, osha." you whisper that, feeling like a hypocrite.

"i'm gonna get some dinner." you said quietly, standing up as osha nods. you see her leave from where she sat as you approach the steaming pot that qimir had cooked. osha's questions hangs in your mind as you stare at the steaming stew, a familiar aroma catches your nose. do you really trust him? you pick up the spoon in the spot and scooped a bit of the stew as you took a sip. the taste of it surprises you.

it's your stew he cooked.

the questions disperse immediately in your mind as you sighed. trust is a dangerous game indeed with him.

・゜゜・．

"have you eaten already?" you ask feeling qimir enter the room.

"i did." he answers as he huffs, placing a crate near some junk he has in the corner of the cave. you're sat on his bed, legs crossed and eyes closed as you exhaled slowly. your saber is perfectly levitating in front of you and qimir smirks at the sight.

"meditating? very jedi of you." you feel his presence behind you as he bends down to kiss your neck. you hum, letting him interrupt your meditation.

"i just like meditating. makes my head empty." you answer him as you open your eyes as you catch your saber before it fell on your lap and placed it on the table beside the bed.

"a credit for your thoughts then?" he sits beside you as he grasps your free hand.

"i feel osha's conflict with herself." you begin, intertwining your fingers with his. you look at him now as you ask him. "what do you really want from her?"

qimir's face is emotionless as he raises your hand to his lips. he doesn't answer you, he knows you figured it out what his true intentions are for the girl, and mae before that.

"i think you know." he kisses your knuckles.

"you see a similarity in her like you." you say. "revenge, freedom... power. you saw that in mae, yes but in osha, you feel her desire for it more."

"are you looking to let osha kill her master for that freedom she seeks?" you eye him, remembering sol, he would eventually find where osha and them are. qimir doesn't say anything for a moment, he feels amused, how easy you read him.

"it's up to her." he says. "rage and loss is a powerful emotion."

"if you are so trapped in hatred and revenge, is that really freedom?" he tenses a bit at your words. "i think it's a facade."

"and this means?"

"stop making her see that this is her only way."

"spoken like a true jedi." he mocks you, an anger builds inside him. you don't understand him, you don't understand why. he has to make you understand this somehow.

"don't toy with me now, qimir." you plead with him as you search his emotionless eyes for something. doubt? maybe a hint of guilt? yet you can see that there was none.

"you say these words but i know how you also felt how powerful it is when you accepted it." he had heard your talk with osha. his gaze roams to your features as he takes in the look of guilt in your eyes.

"i chose not to dwell with the dark side as my master had taught me of what becomes of who follow that path. and power? i simply wished to live a free life now, qimir. even in secrecy away from the order, mundane as it is in olega, i am free." you sighed as he puts your hand to cup his cheek as he kisses your palm.

"freedom in secrecy? are you truly free when you hide away in the shadows of your city?" he mirrors your words. "you'll understand why i chose this, love."

"i think i don't want to." you confess, your tone hushed. "i don't wish to part away from you because of this. and you'll kill me if i somehow get in your way in your path." his eyes widen slightly at that and his jaw clenches at how sure your words are. is your trust for him so little?

"i won't." there's the emotion you were looking for in his words and face. the sadness.

"you will." you give him a sad smile.

"you don't trust me?" his heart clenches at his own question as you caress his cheek.

you blink. "i do. dangerously."

"then this path i walk, i walk it with you." he says strongly. "i don't wish to part from you either." he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours softly, to seal that promise in his words. you kiss him back, with much trust in those words. he could still feel you lost in those thoughts as he pulls away for a moment. face inches from yours as his gaze darkens seeing your lips shine.

“trust me more.” he says, almost a plead as he kisses you again, with more heat just like in the lagoon. your hands land on his hard chest as he pushes you back onto the bed as he towers over you. he gets in between your legs, pressing his hips forward as you caress his chest, way up to the soft skin of his that’s peaking out of his cream tunic.

“you’re so beautiful.” he sighs between kisses. dark brown orbs heavy with desire.

“flatterer.” you whisper, your voice also evident with desire for him.

“i speak the truth.” he kisses your chin then lovingly nips that spot on your neck making you let out a blissful sigh of pleasure. he grinds his hips down, clothed cock rubbing against your covered core, breaths mingled and heavy as his hands slowly crept inside your tunic. his touch on your bare skin makes you grip the nape of his neck, the fluttering feeling tickling you as he helps you undress your top then wiggling you out of your bottoms.

the clothes are tossed aside and he does the same with his tunic, granting you a wonderful view of his pale skin and the well-built form of his. he sees your eyes greedily take him in as your hands shot up to ghost your finger along his chest and downwards to the hem of his black bottoms.

he smirks as he also greedily takes in your bared form, soft skin is presented beneath him, your breasts are calling out to him as he finally leans down to take a nipple in his mouth. you let out a gasp, the sensation of his warm lips wrapped around your areola as he sucks. you arch your back as his other hand grasp the other, kneading and squeezing as you rake your hand in his black locks, seeing it cascade his face.

"qimir..." you breathily moan out, trying to be quiet, knowing osha is in the other room. he pushes his hips forward, grinding his hard length down making you jolt your hips up to feel him more. releasing your nipple with a pop, his lips ghost up back your neck again as he nips and sucks, wanting to leave bruised marks across your body. his other hand descends down your stomach then to your inner thighs as he feels his way to the prize down there between your legs.

"all for me?" he whispers, his fingers ghosting over your wetness. you nod dumbly as he lets out an airy sigh when he touches you finally. he's in a trance, lips hovering above your neck, eyes trained down to see what he's doing and to see your pretty cunt react to his fingers as he rubs your clit in circles. he can see you trying to hold mewls and moans, knowing you'd be embarrassed if osha somehow hears what the two of you are doing. maybe that ignites something in him, wanting to show-off how good he makes you feel.

"don't hold back." he ushers, fingers coated in your slick as he rubs even harder and a bit more faster as you gripped his toned biceps. he smirks, watching you fall apart as he suddenly removes his fingers on your clit making you let out a low whine. he sits up momentarily, disappointed a bit that he can't feel your body heat to his but he eases.

he sighs, groaning when he cups himself, feeling his cock twitching underneath his pants as he licks his fingers clean before shoving his pants down. you watch him as he grasp himself, making your core clench at the sight of his cock. you open your legs a bit wider as he leans forward, kissing your heated cheek lovingly as you placed your hands to the back of his head. he feels like in a state of a dreamy feeling, addicted and desperate to feel you wrap around him.

"don't hold back as well." you tease him as he groans when you rub your cunt against his tip. he closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation as he airily chuckles. he aligns himself to your vulva, pushing forward slowly earning a breathy gasp from you. he groans out, feeling you clench around him as he pushes his hips forward, inch by inch. the warmness of your cunt is making him feel dizzy as he props himself on his elbows as you kissed his neck lovingly.

qimir shudders as he's fully inside you.

"you feel so good." he whines, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. your hand caresses the nape of neck as it creeps upward to his hair as you grip it, pulling lightly making him moan out your name. he sets a pace, pounding into you with much desperation, your breasts move with each powerful thrust he does.

your hearts beat, chest to chest, lips to lips, eyes staring back at each other with much silent love there is. he kisses you as he rocks a rhythm of endless pleasure. you kiss him back, tongue dancing with his. you match his pace with a subtle rock in your hips as well. he moans in your mouth as his hand grips your neck, you sigh heavenly, his big hand on your throat. squeezing lightly as he fucks you with more precision.

"qimir, please-" you feel like you're about to explode as his other hand descended down to rub your clit. he feels you clench hard around him as your fingers gripped tight on his hair. he groans, pounding into you, loving the way your face contorts into a face of pleasure. he gives one hard thrust in your warm cunt before your back arch, shuddering as you clamp tight around him. his muscles tense as you greedily take in his sweaty figure. your orgasm washes over you as qimir pounds into you.

"good, good, so good for me-" he rolls his eyes back as he also is at the point of cumming. he trains his eyes down to you, seeing your wet eyes, bruised chest and neck, his hand wrapped around your pretty throat and those moans you let out when he thrusts in faster. an guttural groan he lets out as he empties himself inside you, flooding your cunt with his warm cum.

you let out a breathy sigh, feeling warm underneath him. he pulls out, dropping beside you as you release your hand from his hair. you let him pull you to his chest, a muscled arm wrapped around your back as you drop your head to his chest. your chests are heaving and you can hear the strong beat of his heart and it makes you smile.

"you are my equal." he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

"and i you." you whisper back, those words cementing between both of you as you wondered further but you let yourself close your eyes, enjoying the quiet moment.

the whole room is dark as you sat up on the bed. qimir is fast asleep beside you, still bare but his back is shown in front of you. your eyes wander to the scar of his, your finger ghost above it but you pull away. you kiss his shoulder as he stirs for a moment. you stand up, wrapping yourself around your discarded robe you pick up from the floor as you headed to the other room.

and you watch with heavy eyes, seeing osha putting on the cortosis helmet qimir wore. and that answers the question in your mind of what path might the young girl take. a feeling washes over you and doubt crosses your mind as you look back to see your beloved sith sleeping peacefully. you watch back to osha as you step back, letting yourself accept what lies ahead and it frightens you finally.

but all you know is that qimir will be by your side, always.

writing smut after waking up is smth. XD

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Broken Promises

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a master thief, given the task to steal a lightsaber from a Jedi temple. In the process of getting away, you run into someone you never thought you’d see again.

A/N: slight AU in which Qimir really is just some hot dorky guy and not a hot sexy Sith.

It brought you a sense of pride hearing Jedi scramble about in the middle of the night. Their false sense of security disintegrated after word reaching to them that an intruder had stolen the relic from them - a lightsaber that belonged to an esteemed Jedi knight.

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you climb over the walls of the Jedi temple. You jump down, going into a tuck and roll. You regain your composure and look back down into your satchel, the saber still inside.

You pull up your hood and scarf to cover your face and waltz into the crowd of people celebrating the Moon Festival.

All kinds of people and species don similar robes as you wear. The colors of dark blue and light blue to represent the moons of Tython. Once every few cycles, the moons appear beside each other and is meant to grant good luck and fortune to Tython’s inhabitants. Thus a festival to celebrate that look and fortune emerged.

You knew because of the festival, everyone would be distracted, even the Jedi that lived at the temple that housed the relic saber.

You weave through the crowd, keeping your head low and a firm grip on your satchel. You hear a commotion and look behind you to see a group of Jedi making their way through the crowd, looking for you.

You continue the direction you’re going, trying your best not to look suspicious. As you turn a corner, someone takes hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alley way.

You hand immediately goes to your dagger on your hip. You use your weight to press the assailant against the wall, blade at their neck.

Your eyes widen when you see who grabbed you.

You yanked you hood back and pull your scarf from your face, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re supposed to be dead.”

You step back and sheath your weapon, “What are you doing here, Qimir?”

The man fixes his robes and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “I heard a rumor you got hired for a job here. Thought ‘that’s not possible. I watched her die.’ Figured I’d see if I was wrong and,” he gestures to your being, “I was. Here you are living and breathing.”

You scoff, “Yes, I’m sure this is quite a shock considering you left me to die!” You sneer at the man.

He holds his hands up, “To be fair, that was a fatal blow. What was the point of staying?”

“Maybe to see if there was a chance I lived? Which there clearly was!”

You hear the glow of sabers near you and immediately start undoing your dark blue robe, “Switch robes with me. Now!”

“What? Why-“

“Now, Qimir!”

The man scrambles as he undoes his cloak, handing it to you while you toss yours at him. You both quickly re-dress as footsteps near.

“Okay, now-mmf!” Qimir’s words go interrupted as your lips press against his.

The glow of a blue lightsaber causes you to pull away with a gasp, “Oh! Um,” you giggle nervously at the Jedi who seemed uncomfortable to have witnessed you and Qimir in such a state.

The young man clears his throat, “Apologies, but, have you seen a suspicious person dressed in dark blue robes pass by?”

You snort, “A person dressed in dark blue robes? That’s like half of this planet right now.”

“You didn’t see anyone that seemed like they didn’t belong?”

You shake your head, “No, sir. To be quite honest we’ve been a little,” you gesture between you and Qimir, “preoccupied, as you noticed.”

The Jedi uncomfortably clears his throat, “Yes, well, apologies. If you do see or hear anything, please report it to the Jedi temple immediately.”

You salute to the man, “Will do.”

“Um, enjoy your night,” he says before he and the few other Jedi behind him continue around the corner.

You let out a deep breath and look back at Qimir, who was smirking at you, “Did you get better at kissing?”

You roll your eyes and tug him by the sleeve to follow you back out into the crowd. Stumbling after you, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“To meet my client and get my money.”

“Why are you taking me?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to turn me in to those Jedi.”

The further you walk from the celebrations, the quieter things become. Your hold on Qimir doesn’t loosen until you make your way to the forest where you hid your ship.

“Wow,” Qimir stands in awe of the vessel, “You’ve upgraded.”

“Had to since you left me to die and stole my ship.”

You two walk up the ramp and head towards the cockpit. You hear Qimir sigh as he follows you, “You’re still angry about that?”

You throw yourself into the pilot’s seat and start up your ship. Aggressively, flipping switches, pressing buttons, “Yes, Qimir! I’m still angry about it! We were a team! We were lo-“, you stop yourself, “We were friends. I thought I meant more to you than that. I was clearly wrong.”

You slowly bring the ship into the air and go full speed ahead, causing Qimir to fall backward right in his butt.

He groans as he does his best to bring himself to his feet, “I’m sorry! I am!”

Once in the atmosphere, you hit the hyperdrive and go into hyperspace.

You turn in the pilot’s chair to face Qimir, who’s looking down at you with a sad expression, “I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I am glad you’re not dead…and since I didn’t say anything to the Jedi-“

“Oh fuck off!” You stand and push past him, “Just because you didn’t turn me in, you think you deserve a cut?”

“I’m kidding….mostly,” he responds as he follows you to the sleeping quarters. He leans against the wall as you walk behind a changing screen.

“So…you didn’t really think to see me after all this time?” He asks.

You snort, “Again, you left me to die.”

“I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do, Y/N.”

After changing into comfier clothes, you stomp out from behind the changing screen, “To stay with me! Even if I were to die, I wouldn’t have been alone! That’s what hurts the most, Qimir! After you promised you’d always be at my side and that you cared about me, the time I needed you the most, you weren’t. You broke your promise.”

Qimir observes your broken expression, the facade of being collected and intimidating having melted away. He slowly walks up to you, slipping his hands into yours, “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be here if I still didn’t care. When I heard that you were alive and still taking jobs, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true, that you were alive. That I could see you again.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sigh, “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“You made me work for your trust the first time. I’ll work for it this time as well.” He kisses your forehead and steps back, “Now let’s go get your money, shall we?” He shoots you that grin that made you fall for him all those years ago.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you mumble as you let go of his hands and head back to the cockpit to steer you towards your waiting client.

[tossawary]

Thinking about a comedic "Star Wars" fic premise that could be either DinLuke or BobaLuke, not as an "OTP happily ever after" thing for either pairing, more as a series of ill-conceived hook-ups that everyone involved wishes were a little less emotionally complicated, actually.

Because the basic (been done before, I'm sure) premise of "I fucked a 19yo in Mos Eisley's only gay bar, that's kind of embarassing for me..." -> "I hate it when a past hook-up becomes a- MULTI-MILLION CREDIT bounty??? What the hell??? He killed HOW MANY people???" -> "Oh, fuck me, he's DARTH VADER'S SON!!!" works for either Boba or Din.

The flavor of the fic is of course extremely different for each pairing. Boba Fett is much more of an asshole, especially at this point in time, but he also has a lot of really interesting connections to Luke's past / family (Boba is SWEATING during his later meetings with Darth Vader). (He fucked a Jedi??? He fucked ANAKIN SKYWALKER'S kid??? Darth Vader is Skywalker??? Shit.) So, that has the potential to go to angstier places. DinLuke is just more likely to happen in the first place and also keep happening, because Din is less of a bastard and, you know, not canonically working for Jabba the Hutt or Darth fucking Vader.

(They're both 10+ years older than Luke, so you can make terrible helmeted daddy issues jokes about this silly situation either way.)

Because I enjoy fic premises based on how funny they are to me personally, I settled on both of these pairings. It's too funny to imagine Boba ("I'm too fucking old for this shit") Fett and Din ("The helmet has to stay ON during sex") Djarin having a "WAIT, HIM TOO???" moment in the middle of a firefight between Luke's little rebel friends and a bunch of other bounty hunters sent after them by Luke's shitty Sith Lord dad.

And Luke's friends, in between shooting at all of these competing bounty hunters, are like, "How do you already have TWO bounty hunter EXES out for your ass??? I thought you were only 20? 21?? And that you never even left Tatooine before you joined the Rebellion???" And Luke can only be like, "I lived near a spaceport, okay??? I'm SORRY that the only good club was in a wretched hive of scum and villainy called MOS EISLEY!"

Han Solo, pressed up against some crates for cover: "Look, kid, the criminal underworld doesn't have a lot of hard rules, but some things are just common sense... Don't fuck bounty hunters!!!"

Luke, sitting beside him: "Do we really have to do this now?"

Leia, on Luke's other side, leaning in as she pulls out a thermal detonator: "Who RAISED you??? Didn't anyone ever tell you never to sleep with Mandalorians???"

Luke: "Why would your parents even think to warn you about that?"

[darthgloris]

2AM THOUGHTS #8: unburnt!Vader is attracted to a Jedi

The first time you saw Darth Vader in person, you were pleasantly surprised: you thought he would be this disfigured shell of a man that couldn't tell right from wrong, just another Sith with a mangled and scarred face.

But, oh, my God, was he the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on.

From his sharp jawline to his slightly upturned nose to his cheekbones that seemed to be carved in marble, even the scar over his eye was attractive. And his eyes, his tantalising crystal blues had this intensity to them, this determination. It made your knees wobble for a split second, and it distracted you enough to almost get you shot.

From then on, at every battlefield you and him exchanged innocent glances that soon turned into eye-fucking, and at some point you began engaging in lightsaber duels. The tension was so palpable, it could be cut with a knife.

Now you were nervous, to say the least. The first time you and your troops would be engaging in combat on the Death Star, Vader's official station. You didn't want to fail the Rebellion, and you trusted that the ambition and importance of the undertaking would help you fight more efficiently.

The battle didn't go at all how you expected it to.

"Ahh, fuck, angel..." Vader groaned, relentlessly pounding you from behind. Your cheek was smushed against the wall, drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth with every mewl, and your breasts were pressed flush into the cold surface of the wall. His scent was rubbing off all over you, almost as if he wanted to mark his territory, his broad shoulders swallowed your smaller figure as his embrace engulfed you entirely, each snap of his hips made the metal shelves of the closet room creak and stutter with the sheer force of his movements.

"Vader..." you sobbed, one hand gripping the shelf to keep you grounded to reality while the other rested against the wall for stability. It felt like each time he pulled out, he dragged out your whole spine with him.

"Listen to you, moaning my name like a bitch in heat. Bet you want everyone hearing who's fucking you, huh?" He grinned, pawing at your breasts through your robes. The way his armour brushed against your back made you shiver, the feeling of his large frame turning you on more, if that was even possible. "Only a whore like you could have left her own troops alone just to get fucked good. I mean, how do they even take you seriously?"

You let out a loud cry at the words, whimpering and babbling his name. "Shh, quiet down for me, angel. Don't want anyone to see what belongs to you, do you?" You could only manage to shake your head, your brain could barely compose a coherent thought. He was fucking you too good.

"Good fucking girl..." he groaned, soft growls rumbling deep within his throat as his hips slapped harder against your ass.

"Vader... I- I'm close..." you stuttered. In a swift movement, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, pushing your back against the wall as he shoved his cock in your entrance once again and slammed into you impossibly harder, making you inhale sharply and bite your fist to keep from screaming.

He grabbed your jaw with a surprisingly gentle grip, "Look at me, baby girl. I want you to look me in the eyes while you cum."

You gazed into his icy blues, a passionate sparkle to them as he stared back into your own eyes, and you felt your climax growing closer by the second. He brought his hand down to circle your clit and toyed with the wet folds, the pad of his thumb prodding at your sensitive pearl.

The overstimulation made you sob as the coil in your lower stomach finally snapped, making you cling to his shoulders as your hips curled repeatedly. "That's it, goooood girl..." Vader drawled, a guttural groan escaping his lips as your warmth flooded all around him. His thrusts grew sloppier and his cock throbbed inside you, indicating he wasn't going to last much longer. "Fuck- angel, you're gonna make me cum..." his voice cracked as his breathing picked up.

With a last particularly knee-weakening plunge, he threw his head back and groaned, this time slightly higher in pitch, and his aggressive bucking mellowed into soft strokes as he gritted his teeth in pure bliss while he rode out his high.

Vader sighed and slumped into you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as his chest heaved with passion and intensity. "That was... fucking... amazing..." he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. "My perfect girl..."

[stealthetrees]

I am impatient and not actually finished with it but whatever. I tried to write Fox angst but angst is hard and why make it sad when it can be funny.

The others POV would be sad but the Guard just want Fox to stop being a dumb ass.

When Fox woke up, it was to the sound of children arguing. But that’s not his problem. They were grown adults and could solve problems by themselves. Or Thorn would deal with it.

Fox rolled over and went back to sleep.

When he woke up again, after what felt like only a few minutes, the kids were still arguing, but much louder now. Fox blinked his eyes open and tried to focus on what was now apparently his problem.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! I don’t believe you!”

“Well that’s too bad cause is the truth whether you like it or not!”

“There is no way in hell he’s the youngest!”

God damn it, that wasn’t one of his kids, that’s his medic.

“You weren't even there how would you know!?!”

And that was… Wolffe?

“Well then how is he so much cooler than you?”

“What?”

“If Fox is younger than why did he kill multiple sith when you got your ass kicked by Ventress of all people? Explain that dick head.”

“What do you mean he killed multiple sith?!?”

Well that’s a perfect time to intervene if any, because everyone Fox worked with knew about the feud with Darth Maul, and anyone who didn’t was not going to like the circumstances of his little nap.

Unfortunately, there were circumstances to his current predicament. Sitting up too quickly, Fox nearly passed out again when his vision went black and his ears filled with static. Several arms grabbed him to make sure he didn’t collapse.

Fox breathed deep, trying to stay conscious and not throw up as his vision cleared. He didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he did recognize the people so it was probably fine.

Copper, the Guard’s head medic, was holding Fox’s shoulders while glaring at Wolffe, who stood on the other side of the bed, having let go of Fox because of the intense glare. Ponds, Bly, and Cody filled the rest of the room while Sparrow, still in full armor and fresh off patrol, was crouched in the corner looking like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

“Are y’all gonna sort out yer problems like adults or am I gonna have to deal with your bullshit?”

Copper had the decency to look a little embarrassed while his batch mates avoided his gaze.

“That’s what I thought,” said Fox, nodding. “Now where the hell are we?” He pushed his brothers off him.

“The Jedi temple,” said Wolffe, dropping into the chair beside the bed.

“Those… guys found you in the Chancellor's office and freaked out. Dragged you all the way here. I got pulled into this mess cause they kept asking questions about yer medical history,” Copper said, wisely replacing whatever he was going to call them.

“Do you remember what happened? We found you on the floor of the Chancellor’s office awake but unresponsive,” Bly asked.

“Well, one minute I was working in the safe in the chancellor's desk the next thing I know I’m back on Corellia strapped to a table while some guy peels the skin off my arm. It was crazy,” said Fox, scratching the back of his neck.

That was the wrong thing to say. The uproar that followed his words brought the wrath of a Jedi healer down upon all of them, and after many threats of banishment from the room, everyone quieted down.

“Just an undercover job that went bad. It’s not a big deal, exept when the mind fuck thing happens,” Fox explained.

“What is the mind fuck thing?” cried Bly.

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?” demanded Ponds.

“When a sith makes you relive your worst moments, like with the force or something,” explained Sparrow while everyone talked over him.

“Look, y’all fight sith way more than I do, you’ve probably had it worse,” said Fox, trying to divert their attention away from how he lost his arm.

“No? We don’t?? We fight droids???” Cody’s voice climbed in pitch as he edged towards hysteria. Wolffe buried his face in his hands.

“No offense, but I doubt your batch goes looking for Sith Lords to antagonize,” said Copper.

“I do not go looking for anything! Sidious just likes torturing me,” Fox shot back, causing more dismay from his brothers.

“I don’t think breaking into his ‘secret’ lair and trying to kill him in his bed count,” called Sparrow. Little fucker was always ready to gang up on Fox. How the medics had won him over was a mystery.

“And you said you were trying to get into the safe with the contract, so it’s no wonder Sidious tried to off you,” said Copper dismissively. “Honestly, I’m on his side for this one. Sith Lord or not the old fuck is entirely within his right to fuck you up.”

[saphronethaleph]

Sith Succession Planning

“Master,” Darth Vader began. “I am curious.”

“...troubling, but go on,” Palpatine replied.

“What would happen if you died?” Vader said.

Palatine considered his answer.

“Why do you want to know?” he replied.

“I am curious,” Vader responded. “We covered this.”

“Well,” Palpatine said. “In order to prevent anyone from my family assassinating me, the legal results are meant to be an enormous snarl. Familicide is the main cause of death among Palpatines, statistically speaking, over the last hundred years.”

“I mean more in terms of what happens both to the galaxy, and also… physically,” Vader explained. “I was going to see if it happened through old age, but as far as I can tell you have only aged once since I met you and that was all in a single burst.”

“You were going to see if I would die from old age?” Palpatine asked.

Vader shrugged. “I did not see a way to prevent it,” he replied.

“Well, for your information, I intend to simply not die,” the Dark Lord of the Sith told Vader evenly. “I am simply built different.”

Vader looked his master up and down.

“You are not,” he said. “You are not built at all. I am built different, because over fifty percent of my body weight is cybernetics of non-standard design.”

“It is a figure of speech, Vader,” Palpatine told him. “It is popular with the ‘youth’ of today.”

He looked momentarily thoughtful. “Or, at least, so I am told. My advisor Jade told me.”

“I see,” Vader said, who didn’t. “Though I am fairly sure it is possible for Sith to die. I caused it to happen, after all.”

“Oh, Tyrannus wasn’t a proper Sith,” Palpatine muttered, dismissively.

“...he could do Force Lightning,” Vader objected. “I cannot do Force Lightning.”

“Then maybe you are not a proper Sith either,” Palpatine said, then shrugged. “But the fact that he died while still the Apprentice showed that he did not have what it takes to succeed as a Sith.”

Vader tilted his helmet slightly, and Palpatine waved his hand.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said.

“I can think about it if I want,” Vader replied, a bit testily. “But, as I say, I am curious. What would happen?”

“To the galaxy…” Palpatine mused, considering it as a thought experiment. “Well, I suppose that depends on the exact details, but I suppose Amedda would try to seize power. He’s pathetic, though. And I suppose you might try to command the military, but you’re no good at politics, so you would have to rule through fear.”

“I am good at fear,” Vader said.

“True,” Palpatine admitted. “But it’s academic, anyway. I have a plan in place that would result in the galaxy being burned to the ground if ever I die. And I have another plan to clone me so I can possess my own clone and return to life.”

Vader coughed, which was quite a feat for him.

“What?” Palpatine asked. “What is it now?”

“You don’t think you might want to pick just one of those, Master?” he asked. “Unless you want to return to life in a clone body in a galaxy that has just been burned to the ground?”

Palpatine shrugged.

“I don’t intend to test either of them,” he said. “Like I said. I would simply choose to not die.”

“I really don’t think that’s an option,” Vader replied, thoughtfully. “If it was, I think everyone would do it.”

“Built different,” Palpatine reiterated. “Keep up, Vader.”

“Then what about physically?” Vader went on. “If Dooku wasn’t a proper Sith, that is. All that happened with him is that his head came off.”

“Well,” Palpatine began. “I do have an absolutely enormous amount of Dark Side energy suffusing most of my bodily parts, to keep me in good shape as otherwise I would have suffered total organ failure.”

“Total organ failure… from what?” Vader said.

“The Dark Side energy suffusing most of my body parts,” Palpatine answered. “It also renders me immune to poison… hmm… what would happen if I died… well, I suspect that all that Dark Side energy would explode outwards, conveniently also killing whoever it was who had managed to kill me.”

He looked thoughtful. “Now there’s an idea. Perhaps if I do it properly, I can skip the clone phase and just possess whoever it is who killed me. It would be nice to be in a younger body.”

Vader raised one of his hands.

“What about if Yoda had killed you?” he asked.

“Academic,” Palpatine pointed out. “Since I chose not to die. Really, this conversation would be a lot shorter if you’d just accepted that answer at the beginning… it’s youth language again, but if I understand what Jade was saying right the simple way to put it is that I identify as immortal and you should respect that.”

Vader nodded slightly.

“...you said clones,” he pointed out. “Do those clones exist already? Or are they going to be started later?”

“Why does that matter, Vader?” Palpatine asked. “Do not think you can destroy my contingency plans. They are far out of your reach.”

“I’m more wondering something else,” Vader defended himself. “About your clones. Do they come out as old as you?”

Palpatine blinked.

“What?” he asked.

“Or do they come out young?” Vader went on. “Because thinking about you as a fifteen year old is giving me the heebie jeebies, but imagining a one hundred and thirty seven year old fresh grown clone is a bit weird as well.”

“You never talk like this around anyone else,” Palpatine said.

“I have an image to maintain,” Vader replied. “Fear. And so on.”

Palpatine had been processing something else.

“A hundred and thirty seven?” he asked. “Vader! I am eighty three.”

“Really?” Vader asked, sounding honestly surprised.

He paused.

“...you look good for it. You know. Considering.”

“But to answer your question,” Palpatine went on. “Of course they come out the same age! What would be the point of coming back looking completely different?”

“Couldn’t you just be in a younger body now?” Vader asked. “By cloning yourself a younger body, and possessing that? I’m just wondering why you wouldn’t take that option.”

Palpatine considered the question.

“Spite,” he said, eventually.

“...is that the only answer?” Vader said, after several seconds of silence.

“Yes, pretty much,” Palpatine confirmed.

[gffa]

What're your thoughts on the Jedi's insistence that they not attack or kill unarmed opponents, even when those opponents are clearly capable of killing without a weapon?

I'm thinking in particular of ep 6 of The Acolyte. Sol literally just watched Qimir beat Yord in hand to hand combat and break the guy's neck with his bare hands. He's obviously skilled in the dark side. Why is the limit "is the guy holding a weapon?" and not "is he actively trying to and capable of killing me?"

I'm trying to think of other examples of the Jedi doing something like this and the two I can think of are from Revenge of the Sith: - Anakin kills Dooku, despite having cut off his hands and he was no longer a threat, this is absolutely a narrative moment that says Anakin is stepping off the path of the light. - Mace attempts to kill Palpatine while he pretends to be helpless, and Anakin tries to say it's not the Jedi way, but the truth is that he's desperate to keep Palpatine alive because he needs him, and then Palpatine immediately shows he's not still helpless when he attacks with lightning, proving Mace's point, that he's not defenseless, he's too dangerous because he still has the Force and he's in the seat of his power in the middle of the Republic. The point the prequels Jedi make is that killing someone who is genuinely defeated and cannot fight back is dishonorable and unfair, but they don't limit defeat just to taking someone's weapon away, because they know how much damage a trained Force user can do with just the Force. To be honest, I don't think anything The Acolyte puts forward should be taken into consideration for Jedi worldbuilding without a lot of support from elsewhere because it's so bad at connecting to both the High Republic and the prequels Jedi and what they actually say/do in those eras. Like, the idea that the Jedi are forcing everyone to conform to their view of the Force is laughably nonsense when the Guardians of the Whills and the Nightsisters and the Lasats and the Bardottens and the Phirmists are all right there. There's a whole episode where the Jedi go work with the Nightsisters, when they're not attacking anyone or trying to kill anyone and the Jedi are fine with them using the Force differently! So, I wouldn't take anything The Acolyte has to say with a lot of weight--look to what the Jedi of the movies and TCW say and do instead. Because I would say the Jedi of the prequels don't limit it to "this guy is holding a weapon".

[evilminji]

Back on my: Holotuber Jedi Youngling - OC Thoughts >.>

Prev <-

You think folks debate at first? Shtick or Real Thing? Like? No... no WAY could that be one of those Mysterious Mystic Space Cult Kids. No WAY. They would NEVER let their kid be unsupervised on the Net.

But like... (and since I'm a She, gonna use She, but realistically could be any pronouns here) she LOOKS like she's recording from a...? Is that a closet? This one looks like a vent. THIS video is definitely some sort of maintenance area. So she's definitely sneaking...

Ooooh! Thaaaat's a Jedi! REAL FUCKING JEDI. Just dropped down silently behind her. Arms crossed. Mouse droids be snitching. BUSTED.

:T

"Uuuuuuh, h-heeey, Master Uvalii. Fancy seeing YOU here!"

"Yes. Quite interesting isn't it? Since you should not be able to access this area at all, much less to achieve holonet access. Of which we are both aware you are expressly Forbidden To DO unsupervised."

".........I can explain?"

"Please. Do."

*feed ends, chat goes fucking NUTS*

Like? Oh SHIT. Baby Jedi in troooouble. But also? Oh no! What's gonna happen?! Are they gonna be okay?! S-should they TELL somebody? What do Jedi do to kids who disobey them? Does anyone actually KNOW? What DO any of us know about them!? Someone find their Com Code! MA! MA, I need you to yell at space monks! An adorable CHILD MIGHT BE AT STAKE!!! D:>

Even coming BACK on? For a supervised feed? Going "no, I'm just in trouble. Have to right paragraphs and meditate on 'why I felt the need to do this' (even though I KNOW why, not that they'll LISTEN. They just hope I'll meditate until I come to an answer they LIKE)" under the offscreen supervision of a teacher or Creche master?

Whole ass Net gonna be like "youngling! Blink Twice if they're holding you hostage! We can afford bounty hunters! We got a group pot thing going already!!! Aaaaaaaa-!"

Like? *waves at the camera and chat* she TOLD you. They don't believe you. This is part of WHY she wants to do what she's doing. Palpatine's and his Master's machinations have been building for a while. Eroding trust. The Jedi have become strange, dangerous, semi-mythical cryptids with magic powers we must HOPE are benevolent.

Not people.

Why would they expect some unfeeling, magical, sword-wielding space legend to be patient or kind to children? To even have the capacity? We are said to kidnap children and be unfeeling. Can not reach enough people to show otherwise. To reveal the mundanity of our lives. The traditions. The norms.

Food, children, laughter.

The Common Good.

And like? She obviously isn't gonna name Sith-ly NAMES. Not on CAMERA. But her lil "why I wanna play the tooka game and chat about lunch" speech? Convincing. Calms chat down. Still in trouble, mind you. But... provided it's SUPERVISED? And they work out some sort of effective moderation? Alright.

It's a matter of SAFETY, youngling. And no matter HOW much good you wish to do? They will NOT be sacrificing children to achieve it. That is NOT the Jedi way. There are plenty of old masters who would live nothing more then to ramble all day into cameras, if only to here themselves talk. (Oh? Good to know. Guest speakers pog?)

Like? Imagine making a game. Have a "mystical sage" character you TOTALLY BASED of Jedi in it. And your feed gets? Flooded with XD reactions in response to some smol bby streamer playing it? You go to check it out. Cause you're kinda a big deal on your planet. And?

Oh No™

That tiny streamer? Is a tiny JEDI streamer. Who is sitting there, in the stills, going O.o like "Wut." And the next still? Her lil friends are pulled in. The next? A teenager. The NEXT. An adult. The one after THAT. A few adults looking over her shoulder. Then a CROWD. All deeply, deeply confused looking.

The comments are DYING. Howling with laughter. The Jedi were so earnest. Trying to identify which Era you must be referencing. Which sect. But the head dress... cultural, maybe? It doesn't fit with the features though. Could be adopted. A hint at, I believe the term was, "lore"? No, no, those are DEFINITELY padawan beads! But so MANY? In THAT order?

They aren't even connected to a braid! And he's supposed to be a Master, right? But, wait. Perhaps it's meant to suggest he is a Padawan of the Force itself? A student of life? No, that wouldn't make sense! Stolen? It could suggest he has TAKEN the beads? Is regurgitating stolen texts without true understanding? Much like wearing bead he did not EARN?

They keep going and going. Ripping your character design to SHREDS. Picking it apart. Not even meanly! They are genuinely confused. AND IT ONLY MAKES THE CHAT LAUGH HARDER. Because it devolves into a MARATHON, after the game has been paused, of chat spamming different character names? For the Jedi to go "???" Over.

T...that's not? What? How does he even EAT in those robes? And those ones don't seem very non-humanoid friendly. Is he FLOATING HIS SWORD WITH THE FORCE? WHY!? Just keep it on your belt!!!

And? Now every game developer in the galaxy is PARANOID AF. Either make their mystics Very Obviously NOT Jedi rip offs... or shoot a "if I pay you $20 will you consult on something real quick" email. It's just... just easier man. Last guy got laughed into oblivion. Oof.

They can bill it as "Realism" or something. See guys? WE do or reasearch! Give us your credits!

Oh YEAH? Says the growing fan base of this Funky Lil Monk Child. Then put you game where your communication organs are. Send her the game, you cowards.

Do It.

Cut to "oh no, guys! The sorta-jedi died! What? Next objective? No. No we gotta give him a funeral! Oh good, we ca-BURY HIM?! What!? No!!! I could understand if he was from a race that held beliefs that bodies must be returned to the soil from whence they came, but this guy is a SORTA-JEDI! Absolutely NOT!"

"Let's cut down some trees. WE are building him a PYRE. Never ran one of these, but I can look it up. Gimme a moment. Okay. Draaaaag, him on to it. Where's his weapon. There! Thanks chat! On it goes too. Okay. Looking it up..... got it. Ahem...!"

*hold funeral for the sage character by burning his body*

*mods are IMMEDIATELY created to change the "burial" scene to a "Funeral pyre" with somber music*

Just? I can not let go? Of how the subtle shift would spread? Not in shining senatorial halls, but in class rooms and living rooms, dingy pubs and long hyperdrive flights? Anywhere boredom might be found and "hey check this out" might spread? Where someone else, might overhear and get curious?

Lik?? Imagine being the bounty hunter, who fuckin HATES Jedi, thinks they're sanctimonious BASTARDS, hearing someone snort laugh. Just... just fucking CHOKE on their cheep beer. Oh? Now everyone's interested. What's funny?

It's a teeny, tiny, lil jedi youngling. Playing that new Bounty 5 game. Unrealistic as hell. But they are going "I am a MASTER of stealth. A LEGEND of the hunt. You will not see me. I am sneaky. So, so, sneeeeakyyyyy!" As they concentrate on sneaking through back alleys.

Only for their character to fall RIGHT of a ledge, bounce against three buildings, smash into a parked Speeder, and roll right into a cut scene. Where they are call the "greatest bounty hunter of all time".

They look so incredulous.

"Are you SURE? Cause I'm fairly certain that phrase alone is banned for the trouble it causes, near most Bounty outposts. Could be the concussion talking though!"

They are? A sarcastic lil SHIT. Roast EVERYTHING. Know a surprising number of them. Given that they gave the Duros support character a modded in hat. Named him Definitely-Not-Cad. The fake look mustache REALLY sells it. Yeah, Bane. Clearly not you. YOU don't have a mustaches. *watches as she unleashes the Not Cad Bane like a highly tactical meat thresher on legs* brutal lil shit. They like her.

Granted, it's only BECAUSE it's not real she does so.

But I just? Have so many ideas? Spam the Galaxy with "this is who we are. We are people. Develop bonds with us. Care about us. KNOW us." Because the Sith can not possibly kill us all. Can not stop truth, so widely spread. Light dies, when you smother it in closed hands, hidden away in dark and long forgotten places. When you let fear dictate your actions.

It thrives in the open. With people. With the chance to SPREAD. Grow. Bloom.

It's about talking and caring. Being heard. What better place? Then on the screen in their pocket?

@babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @spidori

[hegodamask]

“Bail, it’s the only way. It’s the only hope you have of remaining in a position to do anyone any good. Vote for Palpatine. Vote for the Empire. Make Mon Mothma vote for him, too. Be good little Senators. Mind your manners and keep your heads down. And keep doing...all those things we can’t talk about. All those things I can’t know. Promise me, Bail”

“Padme, what you’re talking about - what we’re not talking about- it could take twenty years! Are you under suspicion? What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said distantly. “I don’t know I’ll live that long.”

STAR WARS: EPISODE III - REVENGE OF THE SITH [Novelization] by MATTHEW STOVER

[obiwanwhat]

Do you ever think about how even though the story of star wars is the story of Anakin Skywalker's fall, no one aside from Anakin and Palpatine in universe actually know the full story?

Obi-Wan never knows the exact sequence of events that led to Anakin's fall - he doesn't know that Anakin saw visions of Padme dying, or that Palpatine promised to save her. He has to live all those years with the visions of Anakin slaughtering children and he doesn't know what caused him to snap

No one aside from Palpatine, Anakin, and Obi-Wan know how Anakin got the injuries that put him in the suit. Ahsoka doesn't know and has no way to find out.

Luke doesn't know either of these things and there's no way for him to learn unless one of the Force ghosts decides to tell him

Ahsoka and maybe Rex are probably the only people alive post-OT who know that Padme is Luke and Leia's mom. Like maybe mon mothma could guess based on Luke's last name and Force-sensitivity? But i'm not sure how close she was personally with Padme. Maybe some of Padme's surviving family could make an educated guess? But either of those would be dependent on them hearing Luke's last name and guessing that Anakin was the father. Bail & Breha, Obi-Wan, and i guess Yoda were the only ones who knew for sure and they're all dead by the end of the OT

Actually now that I'm thinking about it, if Mon like, kinda knew that Padme and Anakin were fucking but wasn't close enough to really care about it, what the FUCK does she think when a Jedi kid with the last name Skywalker shows up in the Rebellion. Like does she connect those dots? Does she have questions?

but yeah who tells luke and leia about Padme. Do they ever find out?

This is a tangent but I wonder if Padme got partially fucked over in terms of "getting to exist in canon outside of the prequels" because a decent chunk of legends was written before the prequels came out (and therefore before she existed), so she never really had a solid legacy in old canon. And then when new canon rolled around, disney was really determined to not acknowledge the prequels so she got screwed out of a legacy again

Anyway

If Rex or Ahsoka tells them how does that conversation go? "uhh i guess if anakin's your father Padme's probably your mother, i didn't see her pregnant but i literally cannot imagine anakin having sex with anyone else"

But yeah thinking about the way that knowledge of the events of the prequels (especially revenge of the sith) gets passed down to everyone who wasn't alive during them is SO INTERESTING

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 5

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader + uniform kink

I’ve been a Darth Vader fanboy (dickrider) for so long, I’m amazed I haven’t written smut about him before. This is loosely based on a plot idea I’ve had for a long time but never sat down and wrote.

This is the longest thing ive written for this kinktober, the spirit of star wars itself must have posessed me.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

You were an imperial officer, you hadn’t always been one of course. Before the empire rose you had been your average war general under the republic working closely with the jedi and their clonetroopers, most of all you worked with the 501st lead under Anakin Skywalker, a name not even allowed to be murmured anymore. You had always carried some sort of candle for general Skywalker, the hero with no fear, but everyone knew jedi weren’t allowed to be in relationships, and even if they were, you could never imagine Skywalker being interested in you.

For some reason, after the empire rose you had joined their ranks. What else could you do? You had lost everything in the war, and even though you didn’t believe in their propaganda, you knew the republic had been just as corrupt, they just hid it better. Your old coworkers had never liked how easily you switched sides for credits, but since you had no one to tie yourself too it was easy to put on a new uniform and kill under some randos orders. It was what had made you so useful during the clone wars and for the empire afterwards, you were quick and smart and had little mercy in your soul.

Of course, your heart gave a squeeze when you would see the formerly lively clones be reduced to mindless flesh droids, or when you saw the few remaining jedi being dragged away for re-education or to be gotten rid of. But under the emperor you were paid handsomely, more than most other officers you learned, why though you could never tell. Maybe it was the fact that you were the longest lasting officer under Lord Vader, as the sith had a tendency to snuff out the life of anyone who got on his nerves. Anyone but you.

For some reason, Vader seemed to like you, at least to the degree a sith could like somebody. He kept you around, at least. And at times you were sure he was staring at you longer than was appropriate, but you weren’t gonna say anything, especially to the guy known for snapping necks of anyone who got in his way.

Your status as Vader’s personal officer came one day in the form of a special uniform. It looked like your average imperial officer uniform, except for the fact that instead of black or white, the top part of your uniform was now a dark deep crimson. The color reminded you of dried blood. The pants were pitch black, the same shade as Vader’s cloak. If you looked deeper into your outfit, you would see the stitches were done with a red thread, almost like Vader’s saber. It was clear you were Vader’s, whether you wanted it or not.

Being Vader’s personal officer was isolating, more than usual. You had always been known as cold and tough, because you had to be to have lasted as long as yourself standing so close to Vader and the emperor. But after being so visibly marked as someone under Vader’s terrifying eye, all new officers and troopers seemed to avoid you or walk on eggshells around you, as if fearing your wrath would be Vader’s wrath itself. You had gotten used to the loneliness a long time ago, but as more and more officers and crew from your time were replaced you ended up having just yourself and your thoughts.

And your thoughts somehow always ended up back on Anakin Skywalker, that jedi general you had fought beside many years ago now. You wondered how he would have felt if he knew who you had become, how much blood was on your hands, how many innocents you had doomed. You knew deep down it was stupid, he had never truly known you, you had been nothing but coworkers, fellow generals. But for some reason, his handsome face, beautiful eyes, and strong body would appear in your dreams and in the recess of your mind.

Even as you stood behind Vader in the cockpit of the large ships he would parade around in, you would find some of your attention sliding to memories of Skywalker. For some reason his clothes had always fascinated you, the dark robes had been so unusual for jedi, but they had been perfect on him. Maybe it was because of this that small twinges in your mind had started feeling a pull to Lord Vader of all people.

Maybe it was his height, his presence, or just the black clothing he wore that seemed to light something in your mind. Maybe it was fear mixing itself with lust, as you had noticed how he seemed even more tense than usual. Others would be unable to see, but you had stood behind him since the moment the emperor brought him forth. You could see it in the way his fists tightened, and his gloves creaked, or how his breathing just became a lad louder from what you could under imagine was frustration.

You were sure you were going mad from your isolation when your dreams were starting to become filled with not only Anakin Skywalker but Darth Vader, their gloved hands pulling at your body, Vader holding you up as Anakin had his way with you, or Anakin’s mechanical hand twisting and torturing your length as Vader made you choke on his fingers or cock, depending on if your dream thought the cyborg sith even possessed privates.

Normally you would be able to release the tension these dreams brought you, but Vader had seemed to call you to his personal quarters late at night. This night your dream had been stranger than usual, there had not been just Anakin or Vader, or even both at once, instead Anakin and Vader had been on. You had been in your imperial officer garb as well, something that rarely happened in your dreams featuring Skywalker, and the Vader Anakin amalgamation has pulled you apart. His heavy breathing still rang in your ears as you hurried towards your lords’ quarters.

The halls were empty, or as empty as they could be as you passed a couple of troopers patrolling, whom all saluted you as they were supposed to. You were sure you looked a mess, the call from Lord Vader had been urgent, and you hadn’t had time to pick up your newly pressed uniforms yet and had to put on the one you had worn all day. Outside the door of Vader’s quarters, you took a deep breath as you collected yourself, before knocking.

When you were welcomed in you almost choked at the sight before you, for a moment you were sure your lord was suffocating you with the force. There had never been a bed in Lord Vader’s room, as he had no need for one, but now there was. It was large, big enough to fit maybe three or four beings Vader’s own size, and the sheets were blood red and looked so expensive even your high salary felt a hit.

“Sir” you stated, straightening your back as you tried to not let your thoughts run haywire as Vader sat upon the bed like a king on his throne. Maybe it was leftovers from your dreams, but the spread of his powerful thighs and slow deep breathing leaving his respirator had your palms going clammy under his gloves. You cursed the fit of your uniform, as you were sure your halfchub caused by your dream was still visible as you stood straight.

This was it, Vader was gonna get rid of you for daring to show up looking so disheveled and uneven. “Officer” he rumbled in his deep voice, and you clenched your teeth and shut your eyes, ready for what you were sure was gonna be your death. Instead you felt your body being lurched forwards with what you knew was the force, falling to your knees as the force seemed to pull your feet out from under you.

As you opened your eyes you found yourself on your knees between Vader’s strong thighs, his gloved palm coming to hold your chin as he seemed to look you over with a critical eye, even under his helmet. You gulped, your halfchub filling up faster than you could dream of suppressing, and the scoffed exhale that left Vader made it sure you knew that he knew just how affected you were.

His other hand came up and adjusted the collar of your uniform, his strong mechanical fingers lingering around the vulnerable flesh of your neck. “Your dreams, officer. Are so very loud” he spoke in that deep voice of his, you were sure you heard it wrong as it felt like he had purred out those words. You face became hot, and so did your entire body, at the mention of your dreams. You knew force users could read or sense thoughts, but some innocent hopeful part of yourself had hoped your dreams would stay secret.

“Your uniform is out of order” he rumbled, the blank lenses of his helmet forcing you to stare at your own reflection. You tried to force yours mouth open to speak, to apologize for your appearance and your dreams, maybe to beg for mercy. But your lord seemed to have different plans, as his booted foot pressed against your crotch where you were hardest, a surprised moan leaving you.

“Remove your coat, officer” he rumbled, the fingers gripping your chin tightening until you followed his orders almost desperately. This had to be a dream, you were sure of it, why else would lord Vader be letting you rut against his boot like some kind of dog. “Your room is just below me own, did you know? You broadcast your dreams loudly” he kept going, grinding his boot harder between your thighs, making you gasp and grasp as his leg.

“You must make it up to me” Vader rumbled, and all speculation if he even possessed privates left your mind. In your dreams he had always been large, as he was so tall, but seeing it did it no justice. His strong grip knocked your hat off your head, another part of your uniform, as he pulled you forwards. You barely had time to prepare before your mouth as filled, and the tight fabric of your uniform pants became unbearable as you found yourself arching at the act.

Vader didn’t moan as he fucked your face, or rather pulled your head back and forth at his whim, but his breathing shook and that was enough for you. Your mind was a jumbled mess of Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker, for some reason you had grown hooked on the combination. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have noticed that Vader would thrust down your throat extra hard whenever images of the jedi appeared in your mind, but you could barely keep focus.

There was no warning as he came, just an extra deep exhale and him bottoming out, forcing your nose against his hairless pubic area. His shiny boot rolled against your crotch, and you were almost sure he must have done something with the force as you found yourself finish, even as he made you swallow all he gave you, you stained the inside of your boxers and uniform pants.

It took a moment to clear your thoughts as Lord Vader finally let you pull back, your throat sore in the best way and your eyes teary. You must have looked a mess, as Vader wiped under your drooling mouth with his large thumb. “Go fix up your uniform, officer” he rumbled, the force pushing you to your feet even as you almost buckled at the knees. Maybe you were still high on your orgasm, but you swore his tone was softer than normal, and that his touch was more careful as he put your hat back on your head and you tucked your jacket back on.

“I will call for you in the morning” Vader spoke, his tone meaningful in a way that had excitement brewing in you once more. “Sir” you replied in affirmation, trying not to shiver at how raw your voice was. As you hurried back to your quarters, Vader exhaled loudly as he ran his hand over his helmeted face, for once wishing he still possessed his old face so that maybe he could have indulged you in that so powerful dream of yours.