#HE IS MY PERFECT SITH BABY

[charmwasjess]

Lightsaber Theory: Obi-Wan "Sith Lords are Our Specialty" Kenobi consistently loses duels to Dooku not for any reason of technical form mismatch or lack of ability, but because Dooku is not even pretending to try to kill him. Resultantly, Obi-Wan can’t figure out what the fuck is going on when they fight. 

Obi-Wan: (preparing to defend an expected lethal strike) You’ll answer for your enormities, Count!

Dooku: (giving him the lightest love tap on the leg) Don’t be so sure, my special good lineage baby boy, so perfect in my eyes. 

Obi-Wan: …What?

Dooku: What?

Which Dooku and Obi-Wan proud lineage moment is even the most unhinged? There are so many to choose from! Is it Dooku’s frequent inability, both in AotC and TCW, to keep from spontaneously gushing about Sidious’s plans and even his own dark secrets to Obi-Wan?? Is it the time in Labyrinth of Evil where Dooku drags a long-suffering, bored Grievous over to watch a holorecording of Anakin and Obi-Wan thwarting his plans yet again, to point out how beautifully they’re working together as a team and how much he likes watching their lightsaber work evolve? Is it in the recent Brotherhood novel, where Obi-Wan just has to casually namedrop Qui-Gon to get Dooku to do exactly what he wants?

Obi-Wan is a big problem for Sidious in his mission to destabilize and corrupt Anakin, and Sidious knows it. He needs him out of the picture to do the same isolating, evil bullshit that worked so well when ensnaring Dooku himself. But the war has been going on for years now, and guess who remains inconveniently alive? And whose job was that to take care of? Oh yeah. I remember. His useless, Padawan assassin-collecting apprentice: fucking Count Dooku. By the time of RotS, Sidious has specifically ordered Dooku to make fucking sure Obi-Wan is dead only for him to completely ignore the command about a half-dozen times.

Going by the Stover RotS novelization, in the same scene where Dooku also literally refers to Obi-Wan as his fucking grandson actually, add that to our earlier list, Sidious reiterates that KILL OBI-WAN is the plan (over the sound of Dooku’s loud complaining) moments before that final duel.  I kind of wish we’d gotten a shot of Sidious's incredulous, enraged expression as Dooku knocks Obi-Wan unconscious and pins him safely out of the way. He is, once again, going out of his way to not kill Obi-Wan in that duel, and this time directly disobeying his Master to his face after they just had a conversation about it. You just know exactly what Sidious must be thinking at that moment. Oh, Dooku. You are so fucking fired.

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[readychilledwine]

hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍

I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️

No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙

Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold

Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.

Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)

A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜

Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.

Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."

Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.

"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.

He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.

"Were they even trying?"

Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."

The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."

The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"

The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."

Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"

Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."

You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.

Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.

"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"

"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.

Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."

You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."

"3," he whispered back.

6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.

"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."

You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"

"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"

Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."

You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.

Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.

"Az-"

"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."

You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.

The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.

It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.

Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.

"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"

"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."

The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.

Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.

Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."

Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."

Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."

You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.

"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"

"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.

*3 months later*

You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.

"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.

"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."

"You say that until they poop."

"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.

He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."

He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."

You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, y/n."

[thesassypadawan]

Missed You (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: You miss your big dork badly, so when he comes home…  Well, you just gotta make up for lost time.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because it never hurts to be on the safe side.  Making out and…Hayden’s skilled tongue and luscious lips.

Notes: A little something for @luvskywxlker!  (You had some very perfect timing for this, just saying. 😉)  Hope you like it!  ❤️

- As much as you wanted to go with Hayden to his latest event, you, unfortunately, had to stay home…stupid job. And since you’re missing your big dork like crazy, you decide to try to cheer yourself up with some of your favorite comfort things.

- A bottle of wine, your fuzzy blanket, one of his t-shirts, and, of course, that one special movie. Everything was going great. You were starting to feel your mood really lift and vibing pretty good. Until a certain scene came on…

- “Don’t worry, baby boy! I still love you; crispy, barbeque butt and all!” You yell at the screen, big crocodile tears streaming down your face.

- You were very caught up in the moment. So much, in fact, that not only don’t you hear the front door open, but also a familiar voice calling out your name.

- Since you don’t properly answer, unless sobbing ‘Anniii’ counts, the source of that familiar voice sneaks up on you. And then proceeds to scare the ever-living shit out of you when… “Really, angel? Revenge of the Sith? You must have been missing me bad,” Hay chuckles, plopping down on the couch beside you.

- “What the?!” You dramatically squeak out, instinctively grabbing onto his shirt and burrowing yourself into his side.

- More laughter. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to do that!” Followed by his strong arms wrapping around you. “Let me make it up to you,” he says all sweetly. Pulling you into his lap, blanket and all.

- You want to be mad at him oh so badly. But seeing his smiling face, you can’t help but do so yourself. “You better,” you giggle giving him a playful smack.

- “Don’t I always,” he mutters. Lips just barely brushing against yours, large hands trailing down your arms and resting them on your hips.

- Shivering at his touch, goosebumps freckle your skin. Oh the things he could do to you. “Haayyy.”

- “Yeah?” He whispers, voice deep and gravelly. Blue eyes gazing intensely into yours.

- Leaning in close, your chest pressed into his. You gently grip his biceps and softly sigh. “Missed you.”

- His hand came up, cupping your cheek. “Missed you too.” And captures your lips, pulling you into a hot, searing kiss.

- Your head spins, body feels all flushed. Lips gliding over one another, so hungry and desperate for a taste. Your arms lazily wind around his thick neck, somehow drawing yourself even closer to him.

- Hayden bites down on the soft cushion of your bottom lip. Making you moan, to which he takes the opportunity and slips his tongue into your mouth. The kiss becoming more heated, as his totally dominates yours.

- Pulling away; both of you panting, lungs greedy for air. “Sweet as always.” He flashes you a small grin before his lips are back on yours.

- Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, your throbbing core brushes against his hard cock. Causing each of you to moan and groan. His hands sliding down to knead and grope your ass.

- Passionate, needy kisses move down your neck. His teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, mouth marking you up so beautifully. His tongue gliding across your collarbone, savoring every inch of you.

- You gasp as he finds your sweet spot, nails digging into his broad shoulders. Your toes practically curling from the pleasure. “Fuck, Hay,” you whine, hips slowly dragging on his thighs and lap. “Please, pretty please.”

- Giving you one last nip, he, much to your disappointment, pulls away. His hot breath fanning over you, sending sparks of pleasure up and down your spine. “What do you say we continue this in the bedroom?”

- Biting your lip, you excitedly nod.

- “That’s, my girl.” Squeezing your butt firmly one last time, he grabs your hand and the half-drunk bottle of wine.

- Before you two go running off… “Wait!” You pause the movie. “Wouldn’t want to miss the ending.”

- Shaking his head, Hayden laughs and gives you a gentle tug. “Come on, little dork. I can’t stand to miss you a minute longer.”

- A wicked grin crosses your face as you slip an arm around his middle. “At least I’m not the one who talked about my snow blower in front of a huge audience.”

- You got a light tap on the ass for that one. “And my ride on lawn mower, don’t forget that.”

[wantonlywindswept]

adopted baby Guard Din idea that I am never going to write

because it would involve logistics and quiet moments and idle life which I am very down for reading but cannot for the LIFE of me actually sit down and write

So the war ends, Palps is outed as a Sith and an asshole and dies somehow, and the Senate eventually decides that the clones do count as people and thus are allowed to leave the GAR if they want. Give the bureaucrats another few years and they might even give out backpay and citizenship, so long as you stay in the service--wait what do you mean the entire Guard is resigning. What do you mean they've already left orbit?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE NOW MILLIONS OF FILES ON THE HOLONET ABOUT THE SENATE'S SHADY DEALINGS???

Guard, collectively: lol cya suckers

Fox is of course one of the last ones out, and since this was all planned on the down low, everyone's been split into groups so they can take commercial flights, since they're not about to be accused of stealing ships. (They also leave their weapons and their armor behind, in a giant macabre pile in the middle of Corrie HQ. Even their helmets, their faces, they discard: it's time for a rebirth.)

He and Thorn and a few other Corries have a stopover on some tiny station, waiting a week for a delayed transport to arrive, and in the meantime they're approached by some locals who just fled the planet below. Separatist remnants attacked their homes, forcing them to leave everything and everyone behind; can the big strong clones do anything about it?

The Big Strong Clones: Oh shit we finally get to kick some Seppie ass? Sign us the FUCK up.

The eager group does not include Fox, who could not care less about the Separatists and would very much like to finally catch up on his sleep. Unfortunately that means that the group that goes down to the planet is Unsupervised.

(Thorn does not count as supervision. Thorn, bereft of Senate oversight, has finally allowed his Inner Chaos Gremlin to fully emerge. Thorn needs more supervision than the shinies.)

Thorn, three days later, waking Fox from half-hearted sleep by dropping an entire natborn child on him: Hey boss, look what we found! None of the refugees claimed him, so we called dibs. Can we keep him? Fox, staring at the child: ...

Din, staring back: ...

Fox: ...no..?

Din: *sad but understanding big brown eyes*

Fox: Nevermind this is my child now.

Din has gone from two parents to one parent and hundreds of overprotective brothers.

Eventually his group makes it to their destination, Din in tow. I am uncertain of what the destination is but it is a planet that is as far away from Coruscant that the Corries could find. I am tempted for Tatooine not because I like Tatooine (I share Anakin's loathing of sand and deserts) but because Luke's description of Tatooine in ANH was 'if there's a bright center to the universe, this is the planet the furthest from'. 

Corries, hearing that: Fuck it sounds perfect. 

Anyway they make it to Tatooine, there is probably purchasing of some shitty land/buildings that nobody wants out in the wastes bc crime, scum, villainy, etc, but it's not like they have problems taking care of anything that tries to mess with them. 

Where did they get the funds?

Shh don't ask about it.

Stone takes up moisture farming. Thire takes up farming-farming. Thorn shoots gleefully at anything that shows up unannounced within a ten-mile radius. Literally everybody dotes on Din. There are a surprising amount of peaceful days.

Eventually some dumb shiny goes: Hey don't kids need friends? Shouldn't we set up some playdates for him or something?

The shiny is not called dumb for asking the question, but they are called dumb for thinking that the question would only ever be taken rhetorically. Fox disappears for two weeks and then comes back with a black eye and a yowling hissing Boba tucked under one arm, looking stupidly pleased with himself.

(Boba is also pleased to be back with people he knows will keep him safe. Boba will not admit to this under threat of death or dismemberment. Boba is a SERIOUS SCARY ADULT BOUNTY HUNTER.)

Boba also decides he will be Mortal Enemies with Din, which after about ten minutes of meeting him morphs into If Anyone Hurts Din I Will Kill Everyone In This Room And Then Myself because all clones be the same, really.

Din has gained another brother/bestie. (Or potential future boyfriend, whichever floats your boat.)

Somehow they still end up overthrowing the Hutts.

Officially the GAR knew and knows nothing about the Guard leaving Coruscant as soon as the metaphorical paint was dry on their sentient status.

Unofficially Fox's batch harangues him every single day for photos of his new kid(s). They eventually show up unannounced, demanding time with their nephew. (They are shot at by Thorn.)

Din gains five new uncles.

The batch proudly show pics and holos to their battalions. Din gains millions of new uncles.

Fox finally gets a full night's sleep.

[yandere-wishes]

hello it is i, your friendly neighborhood sol simp reporting for duty. i loved what you wrote for him last time, so i am here yet again to offer my thoughts that you are free to turn into stories if you so desire

consider: sol and darth teeth both have an intense fascination with you, and it comes to a head when they end up saber battling over who gets your heart (i think that since i have 2 hands, we can all learn to share but i digress)

alternatively: sith master sol. think of how wild the yandere vibes could be if he was just a little.... dark, a little fucked up if u will. he allows his desire to possess, his tendency for attachment to take hold until it corrupts him so deeply that he cannot let go of you

No cause this aligns almost perfectly with my original hopes for the series.

Before we knew anything about the show and just had one sentence to go off of for the plot. I genuinely thought it would be about a Sith acolyte disguised as a former padawan who slowly turns her former master to the dark side. All while plotting against her current Sith master. The story would have ended with the Jedi master and Sith acolyte killing the current Sith master. Then the Jedi master would become the new Sith acolyte and his padawon would be the new Sith master.

Anyway, I digress...

Imagine this...

You are Sol's new padawan, young and edger in all the ways a padawan should be. Desperate to uphold your Jedi legacy. But it's all so hard to become the perfect Jedi when your own master doesn't seem to believe in your abilities. He's smoldering, snuffing out your independence with cotton soft words that cut like blades. Sol constantly keeps you out of harm's way. Refusing to take you on dangerous missions or even let you out on your own. It's exhausting, tiring. Maybe that's why you run away. Maybe it's the guilt you feel whenever you see the unruly love glistening in Sol's soft eyes. He shouldn't love you like this. It's not the Jedi way. Not only have you disgraced your order, but you've ruined your master too. The shame chokes you, hot caol caught between your throat.

This is when "Darth Teeth" finds you. Wondering Coruscant, headed for the transport docks, desperate to flee away from everything. It's here where he tempts you, playing the role of an insightful stranger, a benevolent sympath. It's here where he slowly lures you in. You return to the Jedi temple that night, high off the promises of really learning the secrets of the force. Of training under a new master who wouldn't baby you. Little do you know you're decent to the dark side has already started.

You feel bad about deceiving Sol, truly you do. But it's his fault in the first place. He's the one who forced you into this corner...

Sol is pretty smart so I'm sure he'll piece together what's happening eventually. Maybe when -despite his best efforts- the council deems you ready to become a Jedi knight. It's then that he realizes you've been training under another. He decides to confront this "other master". It will definitely end in a battle between the two. While you're forced to sit there and watch.

I think an ending where -ultimately- Darth Teeth wins would make the most sense. Somehow he's able to turn Sol to the darkside and takes him as his new acolyte. While you, poor little doomed darling are forced to be their little lover. Ensnared once more in the cage you hate so much...

But I agree imagine just how suffocating a dark side Sol would be. He's allowed to embrace his feelings freely and let them control his every move. He'd be so possessive and protective of you!! Never letting you out of his sight, controlling every little thing you do.

I LOVE this concept so so much, the only problem is that the Acolyte has such a small fandom that idk if it warrants me making a full fic. But yeah let me know~💜

[marvelstars]

So I was thinking about a post I saw a while ago and it made me realize that I believe it didn´t really occur to Anakin that Padme was too young as a 14 year old Queen because he was a 9 year old slave and already making adult decisions, like:

Sure, I will risk my life to give you the ship parts you need new friends.

I will sacrifice the pod I built with many sacrifices that I wanted to use to escape with my Mom once I got her and my slave chip out of her body with my self made slave chip detector.

I know exactly how to cheat on my owner, I have know him all my life actually and he loves gambling.

Sebulba, leave Jar Jar alone, you could kill me instead but then you would have to pay for me so go away.

I built a droid to help Mom around the house and I am also looking after grandma Jira here, fixing her things so the heat doesn´t get too much for her.

Do you need the droid army that is invading Naboo stopped? No problem, I will just destroy their main star chip and I didn´t even get out of place as Master Qui-Gon Sir asked me to.

Then Anakin became a padawan and was send to missions in which he had to use his lightsaber to get out of "negotiations"

So of course he defended Padme being a Queen at 14, to him her words about being happy for being relieved of so much responsibility sounded as if she thought she was doing a bad job with her planet, that´s why he told her he heard people were so pleased with her they wanted to keep her more time as their Queen. He thought she was selling herself short.

I believe the whole, "too young to be doing this" only beat Anakin in the face when he was send Ahsoka in the middle of a war zone.

I mean, he called her a "youngling" not even a padawan, he most definitely didn´t want to be training a 14 year old youngling in the middle of a war zone and he only accepted because he saw how sad Ahsoka looked when she thought he didn´t want her.

Ahsoka just had to invoke a little bit of tears and she already had him grapped around her little finger.

Anakin: Sure I am supposed to be your Jedi master and you should call me master but we are in the middle of a war zone, we both could die tomorrow, your situation sucks Snips and you are too young yet to notice it so of course you may call me skyguy to your heart content.

He is actually worse with Luke, honestly, it didn´t matter to him his little boy already destroyed the death star in ANH and his Master was calling for his head because he could become a Jedi and try to kill both of them, to Vader he was just "a boy"

In ESB Vader was at the parenting stage of thinking about Luke like, that´s my baby, nobody can touch him or his friends until I say so ok?

So he can recognize when someone was too young to be send to war, slavery or fight his Sith Master and he was right most of the time, except when it´s about himself and his perfect Queen Padme, they were veteran kids just doing their jobs.

Love him honestly :D

[emoani]

summary: the sith lord darth vader is in love with you and your baby blue dress

pairing: darth vader x f!reader

warnings: insinuation of sex, vader in love, but still an evil sith lord

observation: i dedicate this post to my corazón @fuckmyskywalker because his favorite color is blue

▪︎baby blue dress▪︎

You run your hands through your hair, smoothing it down for the thousandth time. Until you hear his breathing. Vader has finally arrived, and that makes you excited.

- Are you getting ready for our special night, honey? Have you already chosen what you are going to wear? -His voice comes out through the modulator, he was looking for you anxiously in that big suite, but he doesn't see you.

- It's a surprise - You tease him, with a smile on your lips, you were hiding somewhere in the room so he wouldn't find you, even knowing he could do it quickly with force.

- Ok, darling. I'll do my best to guess. Will I get to know what you're wearing tonight? - Vader joins in the fun.

- At night... - You pause pretending to think - I won't wear anything!

The Lord takes a while to answer you, his breathing gets faster. You had managed to affect him with so little and it was so much fun.

- Honey... Please say you're going to use something...

You laugh at him.

- Yes love. I'll wear it, usually in front of others.

- Don't make me anxious, my dear. What are you going to wear for our special night?

- A long baby blue dress - You describe what you were wearing at the time and walk slowly towards him, feeling his anxiety.

- Forgive me, but I have to be honest... You're going to look like a goddess, dressed in a baby blue dress... Your eyes and hair match the blue so well - As he's talking you approach and poke his shoulder. He, anxious, can't stop touching you from your hair to your beautiful blue dress. He is in love with what he sees - Baby, you look beautiful, my love...

You laugh, so happy as you wrap your arms around your man to hug him. You loved him so much.

- Who knew that one would say I would see a Lord so in love like this - you think aloud.

- Honey, I feel like a seventeen-year-old boy by your side. I won't be able to take my eyes off you all night!

His voice might not be able to convey that much emotion, but how could you not be moved by those words? Vader could look so bad to other people, but not to you because you understood him. And that's why he loved you. You understood why he ended up that way, you waited for him for years until he allowed someone into his heart again. You loved that bad guy. And he didn't care what people said. You loved him so much that you would always be there for him, follow him to every planet and ignore the bodies he would leave lying around.

- I don't get used to so many compliments - you says blushing.

- Don't worry. When I marry you, I will always give you compliments. I will always tell you how beautiful you are, how perfect you are for me, how you are the woman of my life...

Its robotic arms were around your waist, holding you as tight as if you were going to walk away.

- I'm looking forward to kissing you now. But I'll control myself until dinner time... give me a hug, I'll control myself until later.

You can't not laugh about it all. Oh, how she loved him.

- How will dinner work, since you can't eat with me? - Worried question - Won't you mind?

It wasn't the first time you said that. Ever since you started planning this night, you've been insisting that you can skip that part. But Vader always said he wanted to give you the full experience of a romantic night. That included dinner. He made it very clear that it wasn't an option to skip this part, however you were so insistent.

- We've already talked about this - He reminds you, walking around the room - I don't care, as long as I'm with you, my dear. I will feed myself with your beauty, with your personality, with your presence, with the air you breathe, with the same air you exhale when you kiss me. I'll be by your side, watching you eat... To be honest: I'll be very focused on you; I want to see every little bite you take...

So passionate.

- You're obsessed with me, so glad I am with you too

- I'm a Sith Lord, but I'm the most passionate being you've ever seen.

(...)

You continued exchanging flirtations the entire time. As you walked, while Vader chose a good ship to take you to the planet he chose just for that night.

The whole place was beautiful, as well as the dinner. The place he took you to was more romantic than he expected. The walls with glass chandeliers. The soft wood floors, and the brightly lit stairs. There are roses on the ceiling. It's all perfect.

And the dinner that Vader insisted so much on was great, and once again you imagined what it would be like if that accident on Mustafar had not happened, you were sad to think that he could no longer feel and enjoy certain things.

- Honey - Vader says and you know he was in your thoughts - I'm feeling good now. We still have the whole night ahead of us.

You finish eating and thank him. The androids begin to silently clear the food from the table.

- I'm anxious to know where this night will take us - You observe.

- I can use my mind to show you a little what awaits you. Do you feel, my love?

You, still sitting, raise an eyebrow without quite understanding what he is saying. Seconds later you tremble all over, feeling an invisible touch between your legs. Was he really teasing you like that? You bite your lip and lower your head in embarrassment. You were out in public, by the way. Even if there was no one else in the place besides the androids.

- So, my queen? Are you feeling my rage? My desire to have you in that blue dress?

You squeeze your own thigh, trying in vain to contain the trembling in your legs as he, through the Force, touches you.

- Vader, please... - You ask softly - Not here.

- Here, yes. Do you think you have the right to deny me something? - He speaks each word slowly, as if he wasn't doing anything - I demand to be rewarded.

And you who were being stimulated the whole time, trying to hold your breath, don't even think about stopping it. Who did you want to fool? He was the Sith Lord, your Lord and he could boss you around and do whatever he wanted. And he knows it.

- As you wish - You answer, making your submission clear.

[highfantasy-soul]

it's so hard not to pull my hair out over staunch jedi-apologists who view absolutely nothing the order does as problematic in the slightest. I try not to engage so much, but y'all - there is no excuse for taking children from their parents and not allowing them to ever see them again. There is no excuse for training child soldiers. There is no excuse for the cult-like behaviors of the order.

I am firm in my reading of the prequels that George Lucas INTENDED us to not agree with the order! That his INTENTION was to show that their ways led to horrible outcomes and harm done to those who were raised in that situation!

I can't think of a single (good) writer who created a bureaucratic organization of super powerful beings with the intention of us hero-worshipping them and pretending they're perfect. Especially someone so against America's treatment of the Vietnamese and with a love of rebel cells rather than centralized power, I think the jedi order was meant to show that even the most noble intentions can go astray when you gain a certain level of power and absolute control.

The White Tower from The Wheel of Time is not portrayed as a 'perfect' system that is free from flaws - Robert Jordan took great care in displaying all their flaws, talking about them, and encouraging the reader to look at other issues he didn't even have time to bring up. Super hero organizations are ALWAYS being criticized in comics, etc. when they consolidate too much power and become the only source of control in the world.

Why should the Jedi Order be any different? Why are we being policed in what we're allowed to criticize about systems of power?

Hero worship is bad. No matter how cool the weapons, robes, or powers of a group, no matter how noble their original intention, no one is above criticism and most certainly not a group that has all the hallmarks of a violent cult.

It's just very funny (frustrating) when people claim those of us pointing out those issues are using 'Dark Side Logic' and are 'Siding with the Sith'.

Baby - these aren't real organizations. It's not an 'us or them' situation. I'm grown - I can understand that two things (even things diametrically opposed to each other) are BOTH bad (or have bad aspects to them). Get rid of your ideas of false dichotomies. Just because you deem one side worse, doesn't mean you now have to ignore all the flaws of the other.

Please take that thinking back into the real world, too. No real-world organization is above reproach either - always speak out in order to ensure we all keep moving forward to a better future rather than stagnating and letting corruption and abuse thrive because 'well the other side is worse - don't shine a light on our side's issues or the other side might win!'

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 5

Chapter Five: Closing In

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive!FemReader (Empath)

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, One Bed Trope, Awkward, Plot Holes

Word Count: 10k

A/N: I swear I don’t mean to take months to update! I get sidetracked so often by random things and other obsessions. I’m at a point with this story where I get lost with the timeline so then I have to reread what I wrote (try not to cringe at my writing) and then continue on writing the next chapter. Usually, I’m very organized with my outline so I don’t lose track of where I am plot-wise, but Star Wars is— it truly is something else. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re one step closer to the season finale. Love you guys :>

Song: De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – EVENING

It had become apparent to you that Din was touch-starved, even though he never openly admitted it. You could trace the progression of his need for physical contact, starting with subtle gestures like a comforting touch on your elbow or a gentle squeeze of your hand in public. These small interactions held unspoken messages of affection, revealing a side of Din that he rarely showed to the world.

His tactile expressions of intimacy grew more pronounced over time. Your heart skipped a beat the first time he cupped your face, his gloved hand warm against your cheek. The tenderness of that touch spoke volumes, carrying a depth of emotion that words couldn't quite capture. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that you were not alone in this unpredictable universe.

One memory stood out vividly: a day when the three of you found yourselves in a cantina on an outer rim planet. The credits Din had earned were put to practical use, securing supplies and a decent meal for all of you. While Din went to order drinks, you focused on the child, ensuring he was comfortable and fed.

Amid your care-taking, an unfamiliar man appeared, his presence casting a shadow over your booth. You regarded him with skepticism, raising an eyebrow as his words dripped with overconfidence.

"Can I help you with something?" you responded, your tone laced with a mix of caution and annoyance. The stranger's attempt at flirtation was as transparent as the space beyond the cantina's windows.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?" he purred, his words dripping with unmistakable intent.

Suppressing an inward sigh at the sheer predictability of his approach, you let a subtle, sarcastic smile curve your lips. The galaxy had taught you to navigate these situations with a mix of wits and composure.

As the child cooed beside you, curiosity evident in his innocent eyes, you shifted your gaze back to the stranger, his overconfident demeanor oozing from every pore. Your reply was measured, tinged with a hint of dry amusement, "Clearly, I'm not alone and occupied, so if you could leave, please."

Undeterred, the stranger continued with his advances. "C'mon, baby, don't be such a priss. I'll show you a good time."

You were on the cusp of rising from your seat, ready to firmly reiterate your point when a sudden shift in the atmosphere seized the cantina's attention. It was as if the air had changed, thickened by an invisible tension. The chattering voices seemed to hush instinctively.

Amid the palpable silence, Din materialized like an imposing guardian. His presence radiated authority and raw power, his Mandalorian armor reflecting the ambient light, turning him into an almost mythical figure. His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and unyielding, "She said leave."

The room held its collective breath as the stranger's bluster crumbled in the face of Din's command. The confrontation became a silent battle of wills, one that spoke volumes without the need for further words. The stranger's retreat marked a victory for the indomitable force that Din embodied, leaving the cantina in stunned silence.

Your gaze shifted from the defeated stranger to Din, who stood there with an intensity that both reassured and electrified the room. His unspoken declaration of protection wasn't lost on you, a testament to the bond forged through shared trials and unspoken connections.

And then, with a swift shift, Din's demeanor transformed. His grip on patience loosened, and his actions spoke volumes where words had been unnecessary. In a heartbeat, he had seized the offender, the loud crack of bone echoing through the hushed cantina as the stranger's resistance was brutally halted.

Your breath caught, a sharp inhale of surprise and a hint of awe, as the resounding crack of bone filled the air. It was a stark punctuation to Din's swift and decisive intervention, a thunderous echo of authority that cut through the cantina's previous cacophony. The clatter of utensils and the discordant symphony of bowls added to the jarring chorus, a testimony to the power that had just been unleashed.

The stranger, once so assertive, now resembled a scurrying insect, his escape marked by a trail of spilled drinks and overturned stools. He disappeared into the crowded haze of the cantina, no longer a contender in this silent duel.

Throughout this confrontation, Din's gaze remained unyielding, a force of nature that had momentarily swept the establishment into a hushed reverence. As the patrons bore witness to the unassailable might he wielded, their earlier bravado had crumbled into hushed awe.

With the situation resolved, Din's attention shifted back to you, and that deep, unspoken connection that had been nurtured through shared challenges seemed to shimmer in the charged atmosphere. His gloved hand gently found yours, prompting you to rise from your booth. You cradled the child securely in your arms, his innocent eyes bearing witness to this display of protective strength.

“I could have handled it,” you spoke, your voice soft and understanding, and Din nodded, a faint hint of gratitude in his voice. “I know.”

A beat passed between you, the atmosphere laden with unspoken words. Then, Din continued, his words tinged with vulnerability, "I could not just stand there and do nothing," he said, “I would... the things I would do to ensure you and the child are safe.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the weight of his unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a promise forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. A vow to protect and cherish, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of the galaxy.

You blinked, your gaze filled with understanding and affection. With a gentle hand, you reached out, placing it over his heart, and whispered, "I know. I would too."

To your surprise, he was the first one to initiate the hug. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you into an embrace that felt surprisingly warm beneath the cool, unyielding exterior of his beskar armor. You still held the child in your arms, creating an intimate tableau of unity. Surprisingly, the hard plate of his chest was comforting, the armor a symbol of his steadfast protection. In his embrace, you felt safe, secure, and trusted, as if nothing in the galaxy could harm you as long as you were in his arms.

Maybe that's why you two ended up where you are now. In the passing days and nights, your connection deepened, communicated through silent reassurances by the simple touch of an elbow or the light squeeze of his gloved hand. Din seemed to always find a reason to be near you, seeking excuses to touch and hold you, even if only for a brief moment.

There were times when you would prepare food for the three of you, and Din would just watch from a few steps away. Despite the helmet, you could feel his gaze as he observed you move around the small workspace, heating the food. You would glance over your shoulder to smile at him, and his heart would flutter wildly.

In those moments, you could see the shimmering outline of his silver aura mixing with shades of reds and maroons, a silent testament to the emotions he kept hidden behind the beskar helmet. 

The nights in the cramped bunk leave you no room to move, but you find it surprisingly comfortable, curled up together. The baby sleeps soundly in his hammock nearby, his tiny breaths filling the small space with a sense of peace.

During those nights, Din often surprises you with unspoken acts of service. He'll quietly slip out of bed, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, and return with a cup of hot caf. He never says a word, but the gesture speaks volumes, warming not just your body but your heart as well.

Sometimes, he'll softly hum a lullaby, a hauntingly beautiful tune that you've never heard before. The melody dances in the air, soothing both you and the baby, creating a bond that goes beyond words between the three of you.

As you lie there, nestled in his arms, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you've found something exceptional in the vast, unforgiving galaxy.

The peace the three of you had found seemed almost too good to be true. It was a fragile tranquility in a galaxy filled with chaos, and you knew deep down that it wouldn't last long. Still, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a small sanctuary for yourselves.

But as you entered the flight deck one day and saw the look on Din's face, you knew that the serenity was about to be shattered. Concern etched your features as you asked, "What's wrong?"

Din didn't immediately reply. Instead, he pressed a button, and a flickering hologram message of Greef Karga materialized before you. His gravelly voice filled the cockpit, delivering a message that sent a chill down your spine.

"My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive," Greef Karga's hologram began. "You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, and you exchanged a knowing glance with Din. It seemed that your past had come back to haunt you again, and the peace you had briefly tasted was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand from Tatooine.

Greef Karga's hologram continued to flicker as he outlined the dire situation on Nevarro. His gravelly voice held a tone of urgency as he explained, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize."

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you and Din. It was clear that this was no ordinary mission; it was a perilous gambit that carried immense risks. Karga's proposal hung in the air, the unspoken words echoing loudly in the confined space of the Razor Crest.

"So, here is my proposition," Karga continued. "Return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange, and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism."

The concern in your eyes didn't escape Din's notice as you voiced your doubts. "This has to be a trap, Din," you asserted, your voice tinged with worry.

Din nodded in agreement, his thoughts mirroring yours. "Possibly."

A small, determined smile graced your lips as you continued, "We're gonna need help... from our friends."

As you glanced at the sleeping Child, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of you. It was a decision that would determine the course of your future and the safety of the innocent life in your care.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Din made his decision clear. Without uttering a word, he steered the Razor Crest toward the coordinates Greef Karga had provided, the ship leaping into hyperspace. The die was cast, and a treacherous path lay ahead, but the bond between you and Din, and the allies you had made along the way, offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

SORGAN, 9ABY – DAY

The Razor Crest soared over the lush tree canopy of Sorgan, its engines humming like a contented beast. As the forest gave way to an open area, Din carefully brought the ship down, landing with the grace of a seasoned pilot.

Exiting the ship, you and Din followed a worn path that led to a common house in the distance. The atmosphere was different here, far removed from the cold metal of your ship. It was a place where the rustic charm of Sorgan had found a home.

Inside the common house, the commotion caught your attention. A sizable crowd had gathered, their voices mixing with the clatter of glasses and the low hum of conversation. At the center of the room, a makeshift boxing ring had been set up.

You and Din approached the ring just as Cara Dune, faced off against a male Zabrak fighter. Cara’s movements were swift and calculated, her strikes a testament to her combat prowess. The Zabrak, equally skilled, proved to be a formidable opponent. Each of them tethered to a laser that crackled with energy. The makeshift boxing ring suddenly felt smaller, the tension palpable as the combatants engaged in a fierce battle.

As the bout reached its climax, Cara executed a flawless maneuver, pulling the Zabrak in with the tether that connected them. The Zabrak, caught off guard by her sudden tactic, found himself unable to escape her grasp.

With a swift and decisive motion, Cara forced the Zabrak to tap out, his admission of defeat ringing through the air as the laser tether fizzled out between them.

Cara's triumphant grin illuminated her features as she basked in the adulation of the crowd, her chest heaving with exertion from the intense match. With a playful twinkle in her eye, she extended a victorious finger, punctuating her declaration to the assembled spectators.

"Pay up, mudscuffers! Come on. That's mine, thank you. All right, thank you," Cara exclaimed, her voice carrying over the din of the cheering crowd. In response, several patrons begrudgingly reached into their pockets, producing credits to settle their wagers.

You, Din, and the Child entered Cara's line of sight, drawing her attention away from the crowd. Din's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the noise of the common house as he addressed her directly.

"Looking for some work?" Din inquired as he broached the subject with Cara and you all decided to take a seat and have a drink as you discussed the situation.

"It's a straightforward operation," Din elucidated to Cara, his voice low and measured. Leaning forward, he rested his left forearm on the table, his gaze unwavering as he outlined the details. “They're providing the plan and firepower. I'm the snare.” Meanwhile, you tended to the Child who fussed beside you, keeping one eye on the conversation.

"With the kid? And her?" Cara inquires, casting a glance your way.

"That's why we're reaching out to you," you respond softly, meeting Cara's gaze.

Cara sighs, weighing the risks. "I don't know. I've been advised to keep a low profile. If anyone runs my chain code, I'll be in a cell for life."

"I thought you were a veteran," Din remarks, his silver helmet catching the light as he speaks. The defeated Zabrak fighter drops a credit on the table and nods at Cara, who offers a smile. "Come back soon," she calls after him.

"I've been a lot of things since. Most of them come with a life sentence," Cara explains, her expression serious. "If I so much as board a ship registered to the New Republic, I'm—"

"We have a ship," Din interjects, his voice firm. "I can take you there and back, and there'll be a handsome reward waiting. You can live free of worry."

"I'm already free of worry, and I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore," Cara says, taking a sip from her cup. "Especially not for some local warlord."

"He's not a local warlord," Din interjects, his voice low and with a growl. You finish the statement, your tone was distant, eyes glazed. "He's Imperial."

Cara takes a deep breath and offers a small smile as she nods. "I'm in."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

"Does your contact need to vet me?" Cara leans against the side of the cockpit panel, her arms crossed. Din shakes his head. "Doesn't know you're coming."

Cara raises an eyebrow. "Really? That could be a problem."

"It won't. But if it is, that's his problem." Din shrugs before exiting the cockpit. You give the Child a gentle pat as he sits beside you, then follow Din down the ladder and to the weapons locker with Cara.

"Is he alright up there alone?" Cara asks, nodding towards the cockpit. 

Din nods. "Yeah." He opens the locker, the doors hissing as they slide apart. Gesturing to the array of weapons, he adds, "Pick one."

"Do you trust the contact?" Cara inquires, brows raised as she sifts through the locker's contents, a grin playing on her lips.

Din lets out a sigh. "Not particularly," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of wariness. "He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business."

"So then why are we going?" Cara questions, her tone laced with curiosity as she glances over at Din.

"I don't have a choice," Din responds, his voice carrying a weight of resignation. He pauses, then reaches out to pull you closer to his side, anchoring you against him as he leans against the ship's panel. "You saw what happened on Sorgan. They'll keep sending hunters," he continues, his gaze steady. "The kid and her... they'll never be safe until the Imp is dead."

"And you're okay with bringing them back there?" Cara asks skeptically, a hint of concern coloring her tone. You frown slightly, your expression conveying a sense of determination as you respond, "I can take care of myself."

"What about the kid? We need someone to watch that thing," Cara remarks, gesturing towards the Child above in the cockpit. Din nods in agreement, acknowledging the need for a trustworthy guardian. "Yeah."

"You got anyone you can trust?" Cara inquires further, her gaze shifting between you and Din.

You feel Din's thumb brush over the exposed part of your hip, a comforting gesture that sends a subtle warmth rippling through your body. He hums softly, his presence enveloping you in shades of silver and grey, a reassuring aura amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

Suddenly, the ship begins to rumble, Cara stumbles, her hands reaching out to brace herself against the wall. Meanwhile, Din swiftly pulls you closer to his body, a protective instinct evident in his actions. With a gruff huff, he releases you and heads back up the ladder.

You and Cara follow Din up the ladder, only to find the Child meddling with the controls, causing the ship to thrash and rumble. Din takes charge, settling into the pilot's seat to stabilize the Razor Crest once more.

"We really need someone to watch over him," you remark, holding the Child securely in your arms while Din nods and agrees, “Yeah.”

MOISTURE FARM, ARVALA-7 — SUNSET

The Razor Crest settles on the desolate planet of Arvala-7, its rocky surface bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. As the ramp lowers, you step out alongside Din and Cara, the hovering pram carrying the Child trailing close behind.

Your eyes fall on the Ugnaught Din mentioned, a figure named Kuiil, who greets you warmly as you make your way to his home. With a nod, you duck your head to enter the tunnel-shaped structure, eager to get to know Kuiil.

"It hasn't grown much," Kuiil remarks, his eyes fixated on the Child.

Din nods in agreement. "I think it might be a Strand-Cast."

Kuiil shakes his head slowly. "I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly."

"I had a dream recently," you begin, your voice soft but earnest. "A creature like him named Yoda appeared to me… this little one is likely to be one of his kind."

Din listens intently, his gaze underneath his helmet fixed on you as you speak.

"It’s why I followed you, at first," you continue, turning to face him. "Because the last time the Empire had Force Sensitive children…" You trail off, overcome with emotion. "I just couldn’t leave him there."

Din's gauntleted hand gently clasps yours, emanating a comforting warmth that sends a tender sensation coursing through your veins. You feel a soft flush rise to your cheeks as you meet his gaze, the visor of his helmet lending an air of mystery to his expression.

Kuiil clears his throat, his gaze shifting between you and Din. "You and Din make a formidable pair," he says with a nod, his tone carrying a note of respect. "A union like yours brings strength and unity in uncertain times."

A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily. However, Din's firm grip on your waist draws you closer to where you sat, anchoring you in his reassuring presence.

Meanwhile, Kuiil turns to Cara with a playful glint in his eye. "This one, on the other hand," he remarks, "looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

You gesture toward Cara with a smile, introducing her to Kuiil. Cara responds with a nod, her own smile reflecting the camaraderie in the room.

Kuiil's eyes settle on Cara's arm, where the telltale tattoo of a Dropper catches his attention. "You were a Dropper," he observes, prompting Cara to raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Did you serve?" she inquires the Ugnaught.

Kuiil settles onto a stool, his expression taking on a thoughtful cast. "On the other side, I'm afraid," he admits. "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt, and now I serve no one but myself."

As Kuiil speaks, the room is suddenly interrupted by the mechanical steps of an approaching figure. You glance toward the entrance and see an IG-11 droid entering, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Instantly, both Din and Cara spring to their feet, blasters are drawn, their defensive instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, you remain seated, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on your face.

The IG-11 droid, its metallic voice crisp and clear, breaks the tension with an unexpected offer. "Would anyone care for some tea?"

Kuiil, ever composed, raises a calming hand towards Din and Cara. "Please lower your blasters," he urges, his voice steady and assured. "He will not harm you."

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Din asserts, his voice tinged with anger as he keeps his blaster trained on the IG unit.

Kuiil interjects calmly as IG-11 places the tray on the table in front of you, "Not anymore. It was left behind in the wake of your destruction.”

“I found it laying where it fell. Devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remained of its neural harness.” Kuiil recounted to you and you listened intently.

"Reconstruction was quite the challenge, but not impossible," Kuiil reflects, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It had to learn everything anew. This is not a task for mere machinery. It demands patience and repetition. Day after day, I nurtured its growth with care and affirmation. And as its experiences expanded, so did its personality."

Din remains skeptical, his tone betraying his doubt as he inquires, "Is it still a hunter?"

"No," Kuiil replies firmly, "but it will defend."

As the IG-11 droid offers, “Tea?” Cara grabs the cup and takes a sip while you exchange glances with Kuiil, sensing the sincerity in his words reflected in the warm hues of the sunset. With a reassuring touch, you rise from your seat and place a hand on Din's outstretched arm, gently guiding down the blaster. "He speaks the truth," you affirm softly. "It’s okay. We’re okay."

Reluctantly, Din secures his blaster back into its holster, his tension easing slightly as he acknowledges the reassurance in your words.

"I've encountered some difficulties," Din admits as he approaches Kuiil, who is tending to the Blurrg.

Kuiil emits a thoughtful hum. "Seems like you've been managing quite well. Especially with her support," he remarks, nodding in your direction. You're engrossed in play with the Child, introducing the little one to the droid, while Cara observes with interest.

As Din watches you, bathed in the warm glow of the setting suns, he can't help but marvel at your radiance. Your smile outshines even the brightest stars in the galaxy. In that moment, he feels a profound sense of gratitude for having someone like you by his side.

A warm sensation stirs within Din as he watches you laugh at something the Child finds amusing. The primal urge to claim you as his own surges within him, an instinctual longing he struggles to suppress. Beneath his helmet, his jaw tightens as he fixates on you, momentarily lost in the intensity of his emotions. When you glance his way and offer a smile and a wave, his heart swells with longing, yearning for a world where he could have you all to himself, free from the burdens that weigh upon you both.

Swallowing hard, Din tears his gaze away, attempting to regain his composure. "That's not... that's not why we're here," he insists, his voice tinged with an edge of determination.

"I assumed as much. There must be another reason for your return," Kuiil observes with a knowing hum.

Din's voice carries a low, earnest tone as he addresses the Ugnaught. "I need your services."

"I'm retired from service," Kuiil responds, his voice measured.

Ignoring the subtle refusal, Din presses on, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. "I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught.”

The Ugnaught, displeased by Din's persistence, harumphs. "I have a name. It is Kuiil."

Din's gaze remains unwavering as he makes his request clear. "I require someone to protect the child, Kuiil."

Kuiil shakes his head, his resolve unwavering. "I am not suited for such work. I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol duties."

Din's voice grows firmer, his tone resolute. "No. I do not want that droid anywhere near him."

"Why are you so distrustful of droids?" Kuiil asks, his tone curious yet skeptical.

Din's response is matter-of-fact. "It tried to kill him."

Kuiil nods, understanding. "It was programmed to do so. Droids are not inherently good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them." He looks to Din, hoping to impart some sense to the Mandalorian.

Din's voice carries a distant gravity as he speaks with a serious tone. "I've seen otherwise."

"Do you trust me?" Kuiil's gravelly voice breaks the silence, his gaze steady on Din.

Din nods thoughtfully. "From what I can tell, yes."

"Then trust my work. IG-11 will join me," Kuiil asserts, his tone resolute. "And we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery."

A weight seems to settle on Din's shoulders as he exhales softly. Kuiil's continues, "None will be free until the old ways are gone forever."

Din takes a moment to consider, his mind churning with the implications. Finally, he meets Kuiil's gaze and nods. "Okay."

"The blurrgs?" Din queries, a hint of confusion in his voice as Kuiil starts to walk away.

Kuiil pauses, turning back to face Din. "And the blurrgs will join me as well," he affirms, his tone carrying a sense of finality.

Kuiil turns once more and continues on his way, leaving Din standing there with a contemplative expression. As he disappears from sight, his parting words linger. "I have spoken."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

After securing the blurrgs in the Razor Crest's cargo hold, Din takes control of the ship's controls, steering it towards Nevarro. With the ship set on autopilot, you and he descend the ladder into the cargo hold, where the Child sits in his hovering pram, eyes wide with curiosity as he emits a soft cooing sound.

As you assist Kuiil with feeding the blurrgs, your attention is drawn to the sounds of grunting nearby. Slowly turning, you find Cara and Din engaged in an arm wrestle, their muscles straining against each other in the dim light of the cargo hold. Despite the intense competition, they appear evenly matched.

As you observe Din's impressive display of strength, a flutter of excitement stirs within you, mingled with a hint of something more intimate. His determination and power are undeniably captivating, igniting a subtle thrill that courses through your veins.

"I got you, Mando," Cara declares with a huff, her voice laced with determination.

Din's response is confident as ever. "Care to double the bet?" he challenges, his voice resonating with a subtle intensity. You catch a glimpse of his gaze behind the visor, sensing his determination.

Intense heat rises to your cheeks at the sound of his gruff grunt, the raw energy of the moment heightening your anticipation. You’ve been buzzing with anticipation for weeks.

But the heat fizzes out as a moment of panic grips you as Cara struggles, her hand dropping abruptly from the arm wrestling match. It startles both you and Din, prompting him to rise to his feet with urgency.

As you rush over to the Child, you hear Din's firm voice addressing the little one. "No! No, no! Stop! We're friends, we're friends. Cara is my friend!" he asserts, his tone authoritative.

Stretching out your hand, you tap into the Force, attempting to gently ease the Child's grasp on Cara. Gradually, the tension dissipates, and you release your hold on the Force, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Eager breaths escape your lips, leaving you slightly winded from the unexpected exertion.

Cara gestures toward the Child and voices her concern, "That is not okay!"

"Hmm. Very curious," Kuiil remarks, his gaze shifting to you and the Child.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaims, her alarm evident.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense," Kuiil adds.

"Mudhorn?" You interject, your curiosity piqued. You glance over at Din, who has now moved closer to you, checking to ensure you're okay as you still catch your breath from the ordeal.

"What is it?" Din inquires Kuiil while keeping you close by his side.

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this… This I've heard rumors of," Kuiil replies.

Cara shoots the Ugnaught a skeptical glance. "What? When you worked for the Empire?"

Kuiil stands his ground, his tone resolute. "When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

"Yet somehow, you walk free," Cara retorts with a scoff, rising to her feet. But Kuiil remains unfazed. "I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon what I am nor whom I shall serve."

As the swirling colors of intense emotions overwhelm your senses, you feel a surge of turbulence within. It's a challenge to maintain composure, especially given your empathic abilities.

Sensing your discomfort, Din's demeanor softens, a rare glimpse of tenderness shining through. In a voice touched with kindness, he addresses Kuiil, "Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?"

Kuiil acknowledges the request with a nod, his expression solemn. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

With purposeful movements, Kuiil sets to work, the hum of machinery filling the space as sparks fly from the welding gun. Meanwhile, the Child observes with wide-eyed curiosity. Feeling Din's comforting touch on your lower back, he guides you back up the ladder toward the cockpit.

You move to take a seat on a nearby chair, but before you can settle, Din swiftly pivots from his pilot chair. His strong hands encircle your waist, pulling you onto his lap in a single fluid motion. You emit a surprised yelp as you find yourself seated sideways, legs draped over his, and your head nestled against the cool surface of his beskar pauldron. Instinctively, you loop your arms around his neck to maintain your balance.

"Din! Cara could walk in any second," you whisper urgently.

He responds with a nonchalant hum. "She won't mind."

"But—"

"You seemed winded earlier, using your..." Din's voice trails off as he adjusts a few controls, and you finish his thought, "The Force?"

"Yes," he confirms.

You release a sigh and reach up to lightly touch the side of his helmet, wishing you could see beyond the reflective visor. "Din, I'm alright. It just took me by surprise. Later, I'll speak with the kid about using the Force responsibly. It's something we need to ensure he understands."

As you utter the word "we," something ignites within Din's chest. The notion of you wanting to stand by his side, to be integrated into his clan, strengthens his need to claim you as his own, to initiate the formal courtship.

With a gentle movement, he leans his helmet closer, as he uses his left gloved hand to hold the back of your neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his. The warmth of your skin contrasts with the cool touch of his beskar armor. You instinctively close your eyes, sharing a moment akin to the gesture known as the keldabe kiss.

You emit a soft sound, unable to suppress it as you sense him gently squeeze the back of your neck, expressing his desire to draw nearer. Din gruffly murmurs, "Soon, Cyar'ika. Soon."

"You better be fully clothed in there, I'm coming in!" Cara's voice echoes through the ship before the doors hiss open and shut, signaling her entrance. She finds you still seated on Din's lap, a sheepish expression on your face.

Wide-eyed, you attempt to slide off Din's lap, but he pulls you closer in a tighter grip. Your embarrassment intensifies, your cheeks burning as Cara smirks at you. Wanting to hide, you bury your face between Din's neck and shoulder, the heat of the moment igniting a mix of desire and embarrassment throughout your body.

Cara meticulously cleans her blaster as she addresses both of you, "So, we're heading to Nevarro?"

Din, still seated with you on his lap, engages in the conversation, "Have you been there before?"

"No," Cara responds, settling into her seat with the blaster and a rag in hand. "We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war.”

Din nods in acknowledgment. "The warlord we're taking out was an Imperial officer.”

Cara's curiosity piques. "What station?"

Din turns his chair, keeping you snugly in his hold, as he explains, "Hard to tell. No insignia anymore.”

You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp once more, but his arm around your midsection keeps you firmly in place.

"We took out the safehouse when we snatched the kid." Din continues, his tone grave. "More Imps have reinforced since.” 

Apologies for the oversight. Here's the revised text, retaining the original dialogue:

"There's something more going on," Cara remarks as she begins to clean a different rifle.

"Maybe. We'll find out more when we land," Din replies, his gaze fixed on the controls.

The doors hiss open, and IG-11 steps inside, its robotic voice announcing, "I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?"

"I'm not hungry," Din says flatly.

The IG-11 leaves.

Cara's chuckle echoes lightly in the cockpit. "You got a real thing for droids, don't you?" she teases.

Din's voice remains monotone as he responds, his helmet reflecting the dim light. "I got a real thing for that droid."

"The Ugnaught said he rewired it," Cara mentions, her tone casual.

Din shakes his head, his expression hidden behind the helmet. "That droid was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature."

Cara's departing words linger in the air as she heads back down to the cargo hold, leaving you and Din alone once more.

A hushed quiet falls between you, the hum of the ship's engines filling the space. You break the silence, the words catching in your throat. "We need to get ready..."

Din's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "Just let me hold you a little longer, Cyar'ika," he murmurs, his tone laden with affection. You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you, and with a quiet nod, you reply, "Okay."

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DUSK

The Razor Crest descends into a desolate corner of Nevarro, the distant hum of its engines fading as it settles on the uneven terrain. Your pulse quickens, the rhythm echoing in your ears as you adjust the cloak robe to conceal your lightsaber, keeping it out of sight.

The four of you dismount the ship, perched atop blurrgs, and spot Greef Karga approaching, accompanied by three other bounty hunters including a human, Nikto, and a Trandoshan. He strides toward your party, a mix of urgency and caution in his steps. "Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando, but things have gotten complicated since you were last here,” he says, coming to a halt a few paces away.

As he surveys the group, Greef Karga remarks, "It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail," His gaze shifts to Cara. "I'd suggest the shock trooper stays back to guard the ship. These lava fields are swarming with Jawas."

"She's coming with us," you assert firmly.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up," Greef Karga argues, attempting to dissuade you.

"She's coming," Din insists.

Greef Karga grudgingly relents. "Fine," he seethes, then relents once more with a resigned sigh. "Fine." Gesturing to Cara, he adds, "Just cover your tattoo. No need to draw unnecessary attention."

"Now, where's the little one?" Karga inquires. Din activates a button on his bracer, causing the hovering pram to glide forward, its hatch hissing open. Greef Karga leans in to inspect the Child, drawing uneasy gazes from the group. Fingers hover near blasters as tension mounts, and you clench your jaw.

"So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about. What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head," Greef Karga remarks, lifting the Child briefly before returning it to the hovering pram. Din swiftly closes the hatch with another press of his bracer, bringing the pram back to his side.

As the group prepares to embark on their journey across the lava fields of Nevarro, Greef Karga lays out the plan. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all. The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light," he explains. You nod in agreement as your group rides the blurrgs, ready to traverse the treacherous terrain.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — EVENING

As the group settles in for the night, a campfire crackles, casting flickering light on the surrounding faces. You find a spot on the ground, seated cross-legged like the others. Positioned between Din and the Child, Kuiil patiently feeds the young one while you quietly finish your meal.

Across the fire, the three bounty hunters sit, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. With a keen sense, you observe them, your empathic force powers awakening to perceive shades of darkness and red, hinting at hidden motives and deceit.

As you unconsciously shift closer to Din, preparing to whisper your observations, Greef Karga's voice cuts through the quiet night. He gazes at the Child, remarking, "I guess the little bugger's a carnivore. Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie."

"Let's go over the plan again," Din interjects, brushing off Karga's comments.

“We three enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him,” Greef Karga explains matter-of-factly, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

Din quickly follows up, “Tell me about his reinforcements.”

“They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter,” Greef Karga replies nonchalantly.

“And what if they don't?” You press further.

“They will,” Greef Karga asserts confidently.

Din shakes his head, “That's not good enough.”

Greef Karga sighs heavily, “If, for argument's sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and your Jedi will cut down anyone who bucks.”

“I’m a medic, not a Jedi,” you mumble with a clenched jaw.

“How many will there be?” Din asks Greef Karga.

“No more than four,” Karga replies as he rises from his seated position, heading over to the large piece of meat roasting over the campfire. He reaches out to grab a piece, confidently stating, “He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me. Nothing can go wrong.”

However, his confidence is shattered as a large beast emerges from the darkness. It's a species of winged, predatory reptavians native to Nevarro. With a large wingspan, scaly and dry skin, and a dragon-like appearance, these reptavians have a pointed snout, a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and two brownish eyes.

One of the reptavians swoops down, sinking its teeth into Greef's arm, eliciting a pained grunt from him. Chaos erupts as blaster fire fills the air, echoing against the rocky terrain. Each member of the group takes aim, firing at the winged assailants with precision.

With swift movements, the Mandalorian secures the Child in his hovering pram, shielding the youngling from harm. Meanwhile, you ignite your lightsaber, its vibrant purple hue casting an eerie glow in the dim light. Swinging it fiercely, you fend off the winged creatures with determined strikes.

Amidst the commotion, a blurrg and a Trandoshan bounty hunter fall victim to the creatures' relentless onslaught. As one of the reptavians swoops down to snatch another blurrg, it meets its demise in a barrage of blaster fire, falling lifeless to the ground. Unfortunately, in the chaos, a blurrg is accidentally struck by friendly fire.

After the Mandalorian's flamethrower repels the winged creatures, a tense silence settles over the group, broken only by the occasional groan of pain from Greef Karga. As the dust settles and the smoke clears, everyone remains on edge, waiting to see if the creatures will return.

Moving swiftly, Kuiil rushes to Greef's side, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "He's hurt badly," Kuiil announces, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Ow!" Greef insists through gritted teeth, his bravado failing to mask his discomfort. You kneel beside him, your focus on assessing his injury. The deep bite mark left by the reptavians catches your attention, and you speak with authority, "Hold still."

"They got you good," you murmur, your focus still fixed on the deep wound.

"How bad, Cyar'ika?" Din's voice comes from behind you as you work.

"Bad. The poison's spreading fast," you reply, urgency lacing your tone as you inject Greef Karga with a pen, hoping it will slow the venom's progress.

"So this... This is how it happens," Greef Karga says between labored breaths.

Cara rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?" you urgently call out.

“Anyone? I'm guessing that's a ‘no’,” you say with a huff, frustration creeping into your voice. You glance back at his arm, noting the venom's continued spread. “It's still spreading. This isn't working.”

“Get this thing outta here,” Cara exclaims, prompting you to realize that the Child had approached unnoticed.

Observing the Child, Kuiil interjects, “Wait.”

The Child extends his tiny green hand and places it atop Greef Karga’s arm. With a wince, Karga cries out, “He's trying to eat me!”

You sense it too—the subtle hum of the Force emanating from the Child. With each focused use, the Child begins to harness his abilities, channeling them to gradually heal Greef Karga’s arm, leaving no trace of a scar. Witnessing such skill from one so young fills you with awe; Force Healing of this magnitude is exceedingly rare. A collective exhale fills the air, each member of the group seemingly sharing in the astonishment of witnessing such a miraculous feat.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

As the sun begins to ascend, casting a dim light across the rugged landscape, the group presses onward. Smoke billows from the small volcanic vents scattered throughout the rocky terrain of Nevarro. An uneasy silence envelops the group, with Greef Karga's companions forging ahead, leaving you, Din, Cara, and Kuiil to tread quietly behind on foot, the Ugnaught trailing along atop the last remaining blurrg.

Cara speaks softly, directing her question to both you and Din. "You think they're having second thoughts?"

Din responds in a hushed tone, his voice barely audible. "Could be. I need your eyes."

"I'm watching," Cara confirms with a nod.

An hour later, your group arrives at the outskirts of Nevarro, with Greef Karga leading the way and you, Din, and Cara close behind. "I guess this is it," Greef Karga remarks, gazing out at the view. But something tugs at your gut, a feeling that something isn't right.

Before you can react, Greef abruptly turns around and fires at his associates, sending them collapsing lifeless to the ground. The sudden violence startles you, Din, and Cara. They swiftly unholster their blasters, aiming them at Greef Karga, while you grasp your saber hilt, activating it in readiness to deflect any blaster fire.

Din and Cara keep their blasters trained on Greef Karga, who raises his hands in surrender. "There's something you should know," he confesses as he ensures that both the bounty hunters are truly dead and kicks away their blasters. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it."

Your brow furrows as you listen to Karga's plea. "Go on," he continues, "You can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

Cara grits her teeth and shoots Karga a scowl. "We'll take our chances," she asserts firmly.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef Karga reasons, causing Cara to grow more agitated. "This is ridiculous," she tells Din.

"Perhaps you should let him speak," Kuiil interjects calmly, while you maintain a steady gaze on Greef Karga.

Karga points out, "Listen, we three need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you two…"

"No," Din interrupts firmly.

Cara clenches her jaw, her blaster aimed at Greef Karga. "Let's just kill him and get outta here," she suggests, her frustration evident.

You feel the Force connecting you through your empathic powers, sensing the true colors of Greef Karga. Taking a deep breath and deactivating your saber, you speak up. "He's right."

Din lowers his blaster, while Cara hisses in disbelief, "What are you doing?"

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the child," Din explains to Cara, who responds with a warning, "It's a trap."

"Bring me," Din suddenly interjects.

"What?" you exclaim, taken aback, while Greef Karga echoes, "Bring you?"

"Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him," Din states with determination, and Karga nods, “That's a good idea. Give me your blaster.”

As Din hands over his blaster, it prompts you to protest as you take a step closer to him. "No! Hold on, it should be me. Bring me instead," you insist.

Din begins, "Cyar'ika—"

You sharply turn your head to face Greef Karga. "Do they know?"

Greef Karga begins to respond, but you cut him off, your voice tense with urgency. "Do. They. Know?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Okay," you swallow, your mind racing through the options and landing on a decision. "You bring me in. Say that Cara captured me and convinced Mando to trade me instead of the Child." You then hand over your saber hilt to Greef Karga who pockets it.

"No. Absolutely not. You are going back to the ship with Kuiil and the Child," Din interjects, his tone firm.

"But without her or the Child, none of this works!" Karga exclaims, trying to reason.

"I’m going with you," you assert, stepping closer to Din. As he meets your gaze through his visor, you see the conflict in his eyes. He starts to protest, but you cut him off with a whispered plea, "I am going with you, and there is nothing you could say to convince me otherwise. We face these things together." You reach out and touch the side of his helmet, feeling the cool metal beneath your palm as you press your foreheads together. "Let me be there for you, like you were for me. Please."

Din hesitates, visibly conflicted. Finally, he lets out a shaky exhale. "Maker help me. Fine, fine. But you listen to me, alright? When I tell you to run, you run. Got it?"

You nod, determination in your eyes. "Okay."

Din grunts out his plan. "Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. Once you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

"Here's a comlink," Kuiil says, handing Din the device. "I will keep the child safe."

Kuiil looks at Cara and advises, "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

"Let's go," Din nods, prompting everyone to prepare. He turns to you, offering a pair of silver binders. You secure your hands in front of him, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the familiar sensation of the cuffs.

With a click, your hands are bound, and he asks softly, "Not too tight?"

Feeling playful, you respond with a cheeky grin, "You could make it tighter."

There's a warmth in his chest, almost like laughter. His mouth quirks into a smirk. "Cyar'ika, you are going to be the death of me."

You freeze, sensing the shift in his demeanor beneath the helmet. It's almost like awe or something.

"What?" he asks, catching your reaction.

"You're smiling, I can tell by your voice," you note, smiling yourself. Your eyes meet the visor of his helmet, and his skin prickles with awareness.

Suddenly, he wants you a lot closer. In his lap. Straddling him, maybe. Your hands in his hair, and his in yours. But there's no time for that. You clear your throat, breaking the moment, and gesture toward Greef Karga, who is waiting for the other pair of stun cuffs to restrain Din.

Din regains his composure, walking over to Greef Karga to be cuffed. As he does, Cara conceals her tattooed arm with a cloth, and Kuiil picks up the Child from the hovering pram. With your group heading in opposite directions, you hope fervently that everything will go according to plan.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — DAY

Greef and Cara escort the bound Mandalorian, you, and the hovering pram toward the town. At the gate, they come across two scout troopers riding 74-Z speeder bikes.

"Chain code?" one of the Scout Troopers demands, eyeing Greef Karga suspiciously.

Greef nods toward you and Din. "I have a gift for the boss."

The Scout Trooper repeats, "Chain code?" with insistence. Reluctantly, Greef retrieves his card and hands it over.

The Scout Trooper scans Greef's card. "I'll give you 20 credits for the helmet," he offers, eyeing the Mandalorian's helmet.

Greef lets out a fake laugh. "Ha-ha! Not a chance. That's going on my wall."

Din leans in to Karga, whispering, "On your wall?" Greef shoots him a pointed look. "Go with it."

"Go ahead," the Scout Trooper says, returning Greef's card. The group proceeds forward into town.

Cara gives Greef a sharp look. "You said four. There are more than four troopers."

Greef explains quietly, "Four guarding the client. Many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse."

Cara suggests, "Slip him his blaster."

Greef shakes his head. "Not yet."

You approach the cantina's entrance, Greef Karga announcing, "Here we are." As the door slides open, the once bustling space is now eerily empty, save for the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers stationed inside, their presence unsettling.

Greef nods towards the troopers. "You see? Four." He then leads you and Din towards the Client, gesturing towards both of you. "Look what I brought you. As promised."

The Client moves closer to Din, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns of Din's beskar chest plate. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It's remarkable how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans."

Your expression twists in disgust as you watch the Client touch Din's armor. Then, the Client's attention shifts to you, his hand reaching out to grab your face. You meet his gaze with a defiant glare as he remarks, "Ah, the Jedi. Word travels fast whenever your kind is spotted." His tone drips with disdain. "What a waste."

As the Client releases your face, you feel a surge of revulsion. Sensing Din's simmering anger, you brace yourself.

"Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" the Client proposes to Greef Karga, who accepts with a nod.

An RA-7 protocol droid sets to work at the bar, preparing drinks for Greef and the Client. Gesturing towards a nearby booth, the Client invites, "Please, have a seat."

As you take your place, the Client begins, "It's regrettable that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable."

He turns his attention to Din. "Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire enhances every system it touches." You let out a derisive scoff, prompting the Client to continue, undeterred. "Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside." He gestures towards the window. "Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos."

You grit your teeth and suppress a retort, sensing the Client's emotions swirling before you, a dark maelstrom of black and red hues.

"I would like to see the baby," the Client requests.

Greef Karga clears his throat. "Uh... It's asleep."

"We'll all be quiet. Open the pram," the Client insists, narrowing his eyes. You swallow nervously, feeling a sense of unease. But before the situation can escalate, a stormtrooper approaches the Client and murmurs something discreetly. The Client stands abruptly. "Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call."

A stormtrooper sets up a holoprojector as the Client strides over to it. Under the table, Greef Karga discreetly unbinds his restraints, while Din swiftly does the same for you, his hands deftly removing the cuffs. "Give me the blaster and her saber hilt," he instructs Karga, his tone firm.

"You get one shot," Greef Karga reminds Din as he hands over your saber hilt. Din passes it to you with a determined nod.

Cara leans in close, her voice barely a whisper. "This is bad. You said four."

"Well, there are more. What can I tell you?" Greef Karga replies quietly.

A tense moment hangs in the air, and you sense a shift in the atmosphere. Before you can react, gunfire erupts from outside the cantina, catching everyone off guard. The shots strike the Client and his stormtroopers, sending them sprawling to the ground. Instinctively, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef dive behind a nearby table for cover. Amidst the chaos, the RA-7 protocol droid is caught in the crossfire and falls to the ground, incapacitated.

Taking cover behind various pillars, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef cautiously assess the situation. Through the shattered windows of the cantina, a line of death troopers becomes visible, their ominous presence sending a chill down your spine. As if that weren't enough, an Imperial Troop Transport rolls onto the scene, unloading a squad of stormtroopers, further escalating the situation.

"Four stormtroopers?" Cara scoffs, her expression darkening. "This is bad."

The Mandalorian quickly contacts Kuiil via comlink, his voice urgent. "Kuiil? Are you back at the ship yet?" After a tense moment of silence, he presses, "Are you there? Do you copy?"

"Yes!" Kuiil's voice crackles through the comlink.

Din wastes no time. "Are you back at the ship yet?"

"Not yet," Kuiil replies.

"Get back to the ship and get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!" Din's command is sharp and resolute.

The roar of engines interrupts the chaos, drawing your attention outside. An Outland TIE fighter swoops into view, its retractable solar collectors gleaming in the sunlight. The Imperial officer emerges from the cockpit, clad in full black attire, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. His voice carries over the commotion as he declares, "You have something I want."

"Who's this guy?" Cara asks, her confusion evident.

"You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not," the officer asserts ominously.

"Kuiil, are you back at the ship yet? They're onto us!" Din urgently tries to reach Kuiil through the comlink.

No response.

Din attempts again, growing increasingly desperate. "Kuiil, come in!"

Still, there's silence.

"In a few moments, it will be mine," the officer threatens, his tone dripping with menace.

"Kuiil! Do you copy? Kuiil!" Din's voice echoes with urgency.

"It means more to me than you will ever know," the officer adds, his words sending a chill down your spine.

"Kuiil! Are you there? Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil, come in," Din pleads desperately.

"Kuiil? Are you there? Do you copy? Kuiil? Kuiil!"

TAGLIST: @wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil @n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

[dealingdreams]

The Acolyte s01e06: Teach/Corrupt

Just like all the previous ones of this...i'll be condensing all my quick in the moment thoughts into this one post as i watch the epiosde then at the end ill give some general thoughts.

obvi spoilers

letssss gooo

some quick thoughts:

you guys getting annoyed with me talking about episode titles caues damn...this is perfect

something about him taking the time to clean her wounds, make food, and leave her with easy access to weapons and clothinf is sweet lol

mae not leaving osha with her shoes is like extra rude to me for some reason lol

Im still obsessed with how Amandla changes how she walks for Mae

Sol's crying broke my heart a bit

I get Osha completely cause im also emotionally attached to Pip

Qimir's scar does not look like it healed well

His little smirk when Osha steps out behind the rock to grab his saber

'feels good, doesn't it, to hold one in your hand again' *screaming*

I'll join you.

The way he's toying with her cracks me up 'now you are wondering how i can read your mind *winks* i can't' SIR

Sol looks like he would give good hugs

Osha and Qimir spend a lot of time just following each other around

'Everyone does seem to want you' including youuuuuu

Osha's like damn...offering to let me leave takes the fun out of running away...guess i'll stay

his pause before desire gets me every time

him putting that saber to his chest is insane

i adore this scene so much. osha buries a lot of herself and Qimir just comes along with vulnerability and a shovel...like baby im going to make you face yourself because i get you.

Vern not liking hyperspace is fantastic

I think up until Sol said 'you were very young' Mae wasn't sure if Osha knew about what happened on Brendok or not. Mae looked releaved

him saying the power of two not rule of two is important

the fact that he fights in sensory deprivation is just...he's such a badass

The way Osha like softly caresses the helmet before she puts it on does something to me idk lol

general thoughts:

I spent a lot of this episode a mix between been giddy over oshamir and wanting to hug Sol lol

i do think its imporant the Qimir says 'power of two' as previously shown when the power of two was demonstrated it was when two of the coven memebers linked hands to be stronger together to block a more powerful Mother Aniseya. They were equals. They were sharing strength. The fact that this is the dynamic Qimir says he wants i think really plays into the fact that he's not full darksider...he's not a true sith.

not sure when i'll feel that high of Qimir softly touching Osha's arm while she has his saber to his throat again.

loved this episode

[adragonsfriend]

Reading Darth Plagueis,

by James Luceno.

Ok I finished this book. It was a wild ride, here are some highlights, (anything in quotes, " ", is in fact, a direct quote). Spoilers, I guess.

———

“At some point, probably when he was focused on murder, a rock or other projectile had pulped a large area of his lower back.”--Plagueis

Yeah man that always happens to me too when I’m focused on murder

———

Me thinking, *Plagueis is way too normal for a sith,* about five seconds before the narration goes *Plagueis was hungry. he thought about eating the eggs of some sentient lizards and also the sentient lizards themselves, but restrained himself*

———

Plagueis, a banker: nOt all mUNns R bAnkErS u kNoW

A pirate who wants a bribe: be better for you if you were some financial wizard

Plagueis, a literal wizard:

———

Captain La (the random pirate): how do u know my name

Plagueis: *truthing* I sliced you ship’s systems,

Plagueis: *lying* it’s not like I’m a telepath or something

———

*at the evil rich people party*

"Republic senators, at least those that weren’t present, would be subjected to ridicule—"

I love how the narration says "subjected" like Bail Organa would give fuck about some assholes making fun of him

———

Plagueis in a business meeting as hego damask:

Repeats himself multiple times conducting experiments in trying to force suggest to a resistant species

His assistant: bro what r u doing ur making us look bad

———

omg young Palpatine is so Anakin coded. Genuinely he throws tantrums it’s perfect

———

Tag this accidental baby acquisition some random dathomiri lady just handed maul over like a sac of potatoes

———

Sidious, about to gaslight, girlboss, gatekeep, mansplain, manipulate, and threaten to manslaughter Nute Gunray within an inch of his life all in the span of a 2 minute zoom call: *wearing his Sith cloak on their holocall* what is up my guy? did u get the rare collectible bird I sent u anonymously a while back?

Nute Gunray: uhh…yes…um… its very nice…who are you and why r u hiding in that hood bro?

Sidious: it's the traditional clothing of my Order

Gunray: ur a cleric?

Sidious: "Do I seem like a holy man to you?"

Me: the only holes I see here are in your logic, morals, ability to feel compassion, and *waves hand all encompassingly* vibes

———

Dooku: if one more Jedi dies because of the indolence of the republic, I’ll leave the Jedi and refuse to look back

Palpatine: *listening attentively*

———

Plagueis & Maul: (separately) gloat about being Sith Lords to people they’re about to kill

Sidious:

Sidious: these idiots cannot keep a secret to save their lives—

———

Plagueis ACTUALLY believes Sidious is about to appoint him co-chancellor. what an idiot.

———

Padme shocking both Sith at every turn during the Naboo crisis is sending me

———

Oooh Sidious' murder rant is incredible. He's like Plagueis you manipulated and abused me, now i'm gonna kill you so I can go do that to other people without you hanging over my shoulder. It's like the evil but still cathartic version of Zuko's speech to Firelord Ozai.

———

Dooku: That zabrak guy was definitely a Sith. There has to be another one, probably the master

Sidious, standing right next to him in a shadowy warehouse wearing a black cloak: “how would one even begin to know where to look for this other Sith?”

———

“For an instant, Palpatine perceived a touch of his younger self in Skywalker”

This book needs to stop. Maybe consider pulling its punches sometime. The only mark of disapproval I have here is that this is portraying Obi-Wan as an asshole for the five seconds he’s present

———

Bad news, the book did indeed stop. I have been gravely injured, but also greatly amused. The experience of reading this book is just constant vacillation between *wow so Sith Lord, so scary, so evil* and *Plagueis, my guy, that is the dumbest ideology I’ve ever heard. maybe if you took a nap (for the first time in 20 years) you’d finally say something that made sense*

I will also confess that I was taking detailed notes about Plagueis for an AU idea I have that I will not be starting for at least another year because I am married to BHOT and I refuse to be like the rest of you sorry fucks with 17 wips (ignoring that fanfic is in fact the only genre of writing I do not have at least 17 wips in)

[varpusvaras]

Helicopter parent cody please and thank you!

I had this thought a while ago about Cody just. really wanting to be an older brother. He hand-picked Fox for it (Fox for me is the batch baby haha) and he gets a little. overprotective. that's his baby brother, hands off, or he WILL hurt you. The Kaminoan's thought that this was just a phase and he would grow out of it.

He did not grow out of it, and now they have a problem. So they definitely put Cody and Fox as far away from each other as possible. That should do it!

Expect it doesn't.

(Cody does extend his tendensies to others as well. He looks at Rex. The other CC-batchers tell Rex to run. Some of the younger members of 212th have nowhere to run.)

This is essentially a funnier fix-it version of my other fic (And my arms were made to hold) where Cody, behaving like a helicopter parent, ends up overthrowing the government and planting the vode as the leaders from now on. Not because Palpatine was a Sith, no no. Because Palpatine was mean to Fox and Cody didn't like that.

Here's a little snippet!

Rex stares. He has met the Commander of the Coruscant Guard a few times before (without Cody present) and has definitely heard even more about him. Mostly from Cody. The things Cody has told him about Commander Fox had not previously made any sense to Rex, because the Commander Fox he has met before had not been anything like what Cody has been saying. But now. Now, for the first time, Rex and Cody and Commander Fox are in the same space together, and Rex can do nothing but stare. Fox is practically sitting on Cody's lap, with Cody's arm around him. They are snuggled incredibly close and Rex has no idea how they're both still holding onto their drinks. Wolffe leans closer to Rex. "Be thankful", he says to Rex's ear. "If we hadn't warned you, that would be you there. All the time." Rex stares. Cody leans his cheek against Fox's head and nuzzles him gently, and Fox, the strict, hard-ass (Cody's little brother, perfect little brother, perfect beautiful little brother who can do nothing wrong-) Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard just presses himself even more against Cody and seems to enjoy it. "How did this happen?" Rex whispers to Wolffe. "I think Cody just broke him", Wolffe whispers back. "At some point Fox realised that he isn't getting away and just accepted it, and has made himself believe he enjoys this." Rex stares. Fox suddenly catches his eye, and Rex very quickly hides himself behind his drink.

[tennessoui]

hello miss kit! loving all your responses to the asks everyone got such interesting thoughts!! I know you love all your children equally but which gffa au do you love just a bit more than the others? (excluding counselling au lol)

what a hard ask oof

good thing i have a glass of wine and a lot of time on my hands! so i just rated all my fics set in the gffa

(i had a LOT of time on my hands)

a fish hook, an open eye: 7/10 - it's hardly set in the gffa at all tbh i love earnest evil puppy anakin & conniving obi-wan who gets more than he bargained for. needed more cody, tbh a more perfect union: 10/10 - i'm biased obviously cause i just finished this fic so it's fresh on my mind but it was so fun to write! i loved trying to balance the humor and the seriousness and the council scene (both of them!) was just so great amort & amor: 6/10 - i just think anakin would probably not be that cool about obi-wan getting another padawan lol but it's fluffy and cute and i'm glad i wrote it! bed warden, bed warmer: 8/10 - obi-wan would be the worst patient in the history of the world. he's such an asshole which i love writing but he's also so clearly very smitten with anakin. he's just going to be an asshole about it building a boat with no blueprints: 7/10 - i know yall dont know how it ends but i know how it ends ;) burn every bridge but please leave me a boat: 6/10 - my first attempt at reverse master&padawan au which is a dynamic i really love. i would rate this fic higher, but i wish i had started it in a different place and relied less on mental flashbacks but a number: 9/10 - happy almost one year to this fic! i had to get someone to cheer-read this fic for me because i was worried that i was being too hard on aging/obi-wan's body falling apart and anakin feeling old and tired at age 40 but then i saw a bunch of gifs of obi-wan jumping off stuff and i was like yeah his body probably does feel like it's falling apart foolproof, foolhardy: 10/10 - i literally have not has so much fun with a cliffhanger since i last updated time & tide. no notes, just stupid oblivious padawan obi-wan trying to seduce master skywalker into his bed, unaware that master skywalker would crawl over burning coals to kiss his hand. hand in unlovable hand: 6/10 - not my favorite adaptation from tumblr fic to ao3 fic - i used too much of the original ficlet and always feels clunky to me. i do like sith vader manipulating obi-wan into falling!! yes baby, you twist and ruin that jedi master and make him yours haunt me then: 8/10 - i love non-sequential storytelling and also padmé loving anakin so much that she sacrifices a child to bring him back only for him to come back solely to live and breathe for obi-wan hold me fast or kill me quick: 3/10 - would be a higher rating but this fic haunts me. i want to finish her someday and until i do i will not rest peacefully at night. get these stupid soulmates to communicate! i pray the same, but my gods have changed: 10/10 - i love writing this fic, i love watching the polls as you guys vote for what should happen next, i love catty sith obi-wan working to seduce senator skywalker because he's hot lol but it's the voting aspect that makes this fic a 10/10 for me if you love me, let it remain unnamed: 9/10 - it surprised me how much i loved writing set as an actual character. one day i want to explore the universe that set's in, where he meets his own kenobi and falls in love with him. i really liked the outsider perspective on how absolutely wild obi-wan and anakin are - especially since the main scenario is that they're having a threesome, and obi-wan and anakin have to?? share?? each other? with someone else? unlikely! let’s get your fingers tangled in my hair: 6/10 - i wrote this in a fever state; it was fun and i enjoy a king kenobi as much as the next gal! do i actually think anakin could last that long without talking? no not the way i usually write him lol like saints, like monsters: 8/10 - i love the way the chapters are set up, with them going back and forth between the actual plot and the worst parts and darkest moments of the recovery lost to a sea of troubles: 7/10 - it will never not be funny to me that this fic is in response to the prompt "knocking on the wrong door". it could have been anythinggg. it became this instead, featuring light stockholm syndrome and an obessive, evil obi-wan

[thesassypadawan]

💚💚Luke (Skyboy)💚💚

Keep Count (Luke x FemReader) *Smut*

Summary: It’s taking everything in you to not just hop onto Luke’s painfully hard cock, but he did ask you for this. To be stripped naked, bent over your lap, his hands tied with you hair ribbon. And who are you to deny your baby boy, especially when he asked you so sweetly.

Sweet Sticky Dreams (Luke x FemReader) *Smut*

Summary: What better of a way to spend the evening then curled up with your precious baby boy…while he’s having sweet sticky dreams.

Red Five (Luke x FemReader) *Smut*

Summary: When you find Luke alone in the hanger… Working on his X-wing… Jumpsuit tied around his waist….. Skin glistening with sweat… You just can’t let the perfect moment pass you by.

Yes, My Master (Sith Luke x FemPupReader)

Summary: Pup, it’s the name your master ‘lovingly’ gave you…the only one you’ll ever need for the remainder of your life.  Life of passion, pain, luxury, darkness.  Life with a sith lord.  

Balance (Burnt Darth Vader x FemRebelReader x Jedi Luke) *Smut*

Summary: You’re not sure how you found yourself in this situation.  Captured and held hostage by the infamous sith lord.  Forced to engage in certain acts over and over…in front of the one you care for the most.  No matter how humiliating…erotic it can be.

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine Obi-Wan meets Leia and Luke in a world where Padmé lives and Anakin hasn’t gone to the dark side.

Warnings: none; fluffy light reading. Short story.

Warnings 2: not my art. The link to it is here:

***

Sun rises in paradise. Here, in Coruscant, where the Force flows it's natural course, no Siths cause troubles. The skies begin to brighten under a mix of orange and purple, the people start their day, not living a perfect life but under the certainty there is no war to fight, no violence to fear.

Peace has won. Balance has been achieved. And in such a scenario, the Jedis prevailed after learning difficult lessons.

One of these is the Chosen One himself. Anakin Skywalker was tempted by the Chancellor, but he resisted. Obi-Wan Kenobi helped him throughout the process. There were no judgements, nor pride. So was the emperor defeated.

"There is still justice in this world", Padmé remarked, relieved for the closing of the clone wars. "Yet our job is not done yet."

"Definitely not", so said Anakin. "Specially concerning our children. I still think it's going to be a girl."

Padmé chuckled then, caressing her growing belly delightely so.

"On the contrary, it's going to be a boy. I know because my mother told me that smaller bellies are usually more rounded because of the unborn boys. They are more practical, hence why they need little space."

Both laughed. It was a very good day that day, where Anakin had proven all why was he the chosen one. With Padmé in his arms, he rocked her gently, resting his hands over her belly.

"If your mother says so, I won't be the one to say otherwise."

"How prudent of you, Ani. One of the very rare times where you actually are reasonable", she teased him.

They laughed again in syncrony. Padmé turned at him, that very day dressed in purple silk gown with her curls loose on her back. She placed her hands over his shoulders. Anakin was so tall, strong and handome. Ah, had she not been in such a heavy state...

"You know I can hear your thoughts”, he remarked in between chuckles.

Padmé looked away, a weak blush painting her cheeks. Even after all this time, he never ceased to surprise her, to make her go red. And yet, it was such a feeling that brought her into the purest delight she was fortunate to experiment.

“Well… Once I am allowed…”

Anakin pulled her into a delicate embrace, still chuckling, and peppered her skin with kisses.

“…we will definitely have time for bringing more children to our blessed family.”

And time would prove him to be right, despite Padmé’s protestations that he was deluded.

***

They were baffled when not only one but two children were born. Twins. A boy and a girl.

“By the Maker, we were not so wrong after all”, said Padmé, astonished as she held baby Luke in her arms and Anakin rocked Leia in his. “Twins, Anakin.”

“Twins”, he repeated, in complete awe. “We are a family, Padmé.”

She knew the reason why he was emotional: having been deprived from his, he always sought to build his, one more functional. And here he was having his opportunity.

Padmé flashed him a big grin.

“We are. We have always been one. You are my family, Anakin.”

He took a seat by her side and pressed a kiss over her forehead.

“As you are mine, Padmé.”

As he contemplated their children, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“When will we tell Obi-Wan?”, Padmé inquired him after a while.

“He is at Mandalore doing you know what”, Anakin smirked.

Padmé sighed dramatically.

“Maker knows how Obi-Wan Kenobi is the slowest man in the galaxy. How did Satine cooperate with him? I’d have no patience with such a man.”

“Hence why you are married to me.”

She laughed quietly.

“Shush or you will wake the babies.”

They exchanged loving glances and proud smiles before sealing the happy moment with a kiss.

***

But it would take a few years before Obi-Wan Kenobi met his “grandchildren”. For in this time he was not only busy attending Senate demands, but also dealing with matters in Mandalore.

That means to say he finally took Duchess Satine as his lawful wife. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more suffering.

With that he spent considerable time with the woman he loved. Naturally so, considering the years apart. So even though he and Anakin managed to meet, it was only when Luke and Leia were running around and disputing attention with their younger sister named Soka that he and Satine managed to meet.

And when it does…

“This is where the fun begins!”, Anakin tells his children.

“Anakin Skywalker, you are not piloting fast with our babies…”

“Mom! I am not a baby!”, 3 year old Luke protests firmly, getting a smile from his parents. “I am a boy! And I love ships!”

Padmé leant against the door, sighing heavily.

“Even so, young man you may be, but you are still young nevertheless. So your father cannot pilot fast.”

Anakin feigns a face of innocence as he glances at his wife.

“Do you honestly believe I would put our children together?”

It doesn’t help his case that Leia, Luke and even young Soka burst into giggles. Padmé raises an eyebrow at all of them.

“What should I interpret from this sound, Anakin? I may reconsider going to Senate and…”

Anakin leans to peck her lips and smiles at her.

“Trust in me, boo. I will not put any of them in danger. Go to your work. I’ll pick Obi-Wan and be home in a moment.”

Padmé bites her bottom lip.

“Soka is a baby!”

“I can take care of them three.” Anakin sighs dramatically. “Honestly to Maker, Padmé, who do you think I am?”

She laughs heartily, her heart skipping a beat at his protests. As she looks at her husband with the sweetest devotion, Padmé smiles warmly.

“I know I chose well the one to father my children. Pilot safe, Ani. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her gently before finally closing the window. Turning at the kids, though, Anakin adds: “Say goodbye to your mother, children.”

“Bye mommy!!”, so say Leia, Luke and Soka at the same time.

But Padmé can tell that they are far too entertained with the ship and the stroll they are taking with their father to miss her. And that makes her beam with herself.

***

“There. Is. No. Fun. In. Piloting. This. Fast. Anakin”, so says Obi-Wan Kenobi when taking a seat by his former pupil’s side at the ship.

It does little to make the situation better that his children, toddlers, are having fun! How could they find this reckless behavior amusing is beyond Obi-Wan’s comprehension.

“Pa Obi is afraid of daddy!” Luke giggles.

“Because daddy has the higher ground”, says Leia.

Obi-Wan turns his face at Anakin, eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

“What does “Pa Obi” mean?”

Anakin is laughing hard by the time he finally makes to his home.

“Luke finds easier to call you Pa instead of Grandfather or Grandpa.”

“What?” Obi-Wan turns at the toddlers. “I am not that old to look like a grandfather, children.”

“Well, but you are not young either”, remarks Luke, making his sisters giggle.

Obi-Wan heavily sighs before casting Anakin a pained look.

“They truly are yours, Anakin. I am not even surprised.”

As they leave the ship, Anakin takes Soka in his arms and watches as the twins run inside.

“Well, what can I say? I am their father.”

Later that day, with Padmé still occupied at work, Obi-Wan watches as Anakin makes sure Soka is sleeping all the whilst he puts the twins to have dinner.

“Padmé is busy today”, Anakin explains when finding an unposed question behind his old Master’s eyes. “You have to eat vegetables, Leia. Don’t make that face.”

And turning again at Obi-Wan, who watches the scene with a small smile on his lips, Anakin offers the other a beer as he opens one for himself.

“Well, you met them. My little creatures”, he chuckles.

“Oh yes. They are very like you. Luke and Soka have your hair, but Padmé’s eyes. Leia, however, looks like her mother, but she has your eyes”, muses Obi-Wan, before adding rather sarcastically. “A bad trait the three seem to share with you is their taste for speed, though. Goodness me, Anakin.”

He laughs hard at his remark. Luke and Leia seem too busy entertained with their tasteless food to pay the older men some attention.

“What can I say? I told you, they are mine. Though Luke is very close to C3-P0 and R2-D2.”

“Oh really?” Obi-Wan raises eyebrows.

“Sometimes they get too close which is fine by me”, teases Anakin.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you are making the poor droids in the nanny position, Anakin.”

“That depends of the circumstances”, responds Anakin suggestively.

“Good grief!”

But even Obi-Wan cannot resist a laughter. Their conversation is then briefly interrupted as Leia wants her father’s attention. Anakin holds her in his arm, telling stories about princesses as well as senators who fought for a better world.

It’s when Luke comes at Obi-Wan.

“Pa Obi, my birthday is coming. Can you get me a saber as a birthday gift?” He makes puppy face.

The older male gets on his knee to match his height and ruffles with his hair. He senses the Force in the boy, as he sensed earlier in both his sisters.

“I am not giving you a lightsaber to you, Luke. You are not even four!”

The merry scenario is interrupted by the arrival of Padmé. Luke instantly runs to her, but Leia is already fast asleep in her father’s arms. Padmé quickly greets Obi-Wan, but she has to make sure the twins are in bed.

“Luke, darling, you had a long day. It’s time to go to bed. Tomorrow you have school. Come on, go on, young man. Say goodnight to grandpa Obi-Wan and to your dad.”

Once Luke says as he is commanded to, Obi-Wan stands by Anakin’s side, watching the young boy going upstairs holding his mother’s hand.

“He has the Force”, he comments almost to himself. “They all do.”

“I know.” Anakin hesitates. “But this is too early to discuss.”

Obi-Wan nods in agreement.

“Indeed it is. There is no need to rush with these matters. Well, it’s late. It was a delight to meet your offspring, Anakin. They do have a lot in common with you.”

Anakin chuckles, pressing a hand in his old friend’s shoulder.

“I, more than anyone, am very thankful for your presence here with us. Please come to visit us tomorrow.”

“I will try. In fact, I have news to share.”

Obi-Wan smiles and Anakin does not need to ask the reason. But it is only when Padmé arrives that they are informed that Satine is carrying their first child.

A great news to close a great day. But later as Anakin and Padmé slip in bed, he turns to his wife and says:

“You know… When Obi-Wan told me Satine is pregnant, a sentiment occurred me.”

Padmé raises an eyebrow, rather intrigued by what she is told. She puts the blankets over them and encourages her husband to tell more about it.

“Well”, he says. “I think a boy is coming. And if he does, he will be only a year younger than our dear Soka.”

Padmé laughs before lacing her arms around his neck.

“Anakin, let’s be reasonable. We don’t know anything about the child yet. Let’s not speculate too much.”

That evening, Anakin Skywalker has no reason to complain. Instead, he gladly complies to his wife by engaging in another marital activity that might as well bring one more Skywalker to the world.

Though sooner rather than later his suspicious are confirmed. Whether it’s a coincidence or not, nine months later a boy is born to Satine and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And it does seem strange that Korkie Kenobi’s path might cross Soka Skywalker’s in a nearby future… The result of that? No one could tell yet.