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ospreyeamon · 1 year

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the falls of the revanchist jedi

The narrative doesn’t directly examine why the Jedi who followed Revan and Malak fell. It is spoken of as a given – they followed Revan into war, so they followed Revan into darkness. That’s not how people work though. That’s not even how people under the influence of the Dark Side of the Force work. Spending twenty years as Palpatine’s thrall didn’t prevent Vader from throwing his Master into the reactor shaft to save his son. Revan can murder every NPC available to be murdered until reaching Rakata Prime only to pull a 180, redeem Bastila, and be feted as a hero of the Republic, Sith-eyes and all.

All but one of the surviving Revanchist Jedi who followed Revan and Malak into the Mandalorian Wars followed them again into the Jedi Civil War. Even the Exile, that lone dissenting actor, can say that they would have fought with their fellows against the Republic had their connection to the Force not been severed; that they were unable, not unwilling. Yet, the Exile can also say that they would not have followed Revan and Malak in attacking the Republic, that they went to war to defend the innocent. Many of the other Jedi who joined the war effort alongside them must have felt the same way, in the beginning.

Many of the soldiers of the Republic like Carth Onasi returned home after the Mandalorian Wars were over, even those like Saul Karath who would bow to Revan again. What then are the factors that led every surviving Revanchist Jedi, save the Exile, to follow Revan from the Mandalorian Wars into the Jedi Civil War?

1) The Mandalorian Wars changed the Jedi who fought in them. The Exile’s dialogue provides the different reasons why they might have left to fight in the war – to protect the innocent, to test their power, to defend the Republic, to win glory – reflecting varying motivations of Knights and Padawans recruited by Revan and Malak. However, despite the differences in the initial reasons for defying the Jedi Council to answer the Republic’s call, they all would have gone through similar uniting experiences during the war. Terrible experiences. Shared hardship often serves to reinforce group identity.

Older Jedi like Kavar and Arren Kae had fought wars before, but the initial expedition led by Revan and Malak was almost entirely composed of young Knights and older Padawans. Military morality, ethics in warfare, tends to be rather twisted from the perspective of modern western civilian morality. Your ability to prosecute the war and the safety of your soldiers takes priority over the lives of enemy, and sometimes even allied, civilians. Ruthless is more than a virtue, it’s a necessity. Collateral damage is an inevitability. For young relatively inexperienced Jedi, raised on ideals of valuing all life and always seeking non-violent resolutions, the transition to military command positions where they were not only required to kill, not only required to led troops to their death, but required to give orders which they knew would directly result in the deaths of civilians would have been distressing.

We know that the Exile once led troops directly into a minefield during the Battle of Dxun, but I think that barely scratched the surface. We aren’t given the full laundry list of the Mandalorians’ war crimes, but at the very least it includes the crime of aggression, murder of civilians, use of child soldiers, and conscription of captured civilians into the Neo-Crusaders and for forced labour. Given this disregard for the lives of civilians, I consider it likely that the Mandalorians also used hostages and headquartered themselves inside buildings like schools and hospitals. I suspect both sides used poison weapons, nuclear weapons, torture, and executed prisoners of war.

2) The Battle of Malachor V was a purge and a crucible of conversion. Kreia, HK-47, and the recording of Bastila Shan all say it; “a series of massacres that masked another war, a war of conversion”, “the intention was to destroy the Jedi, break their will, and make them loyal to Revan … Revan was "cleaning house" at Malachor V”, “to convert the last of the Jedi who fought beside [Revan] – and murder those who would not”. The Jedi in the radius of the Mass Shadow Generator would have included the Jedi Revan did not believe would agree with the plan to invade the Republic.

I think many of the Revanchist Jedi had already been falling by inches before Malachor. The Mandalorian Wars were brutal and one of the major symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is emotional dysregulation. Irritability, anxiety, depression, guilt, anger – the ongoing effects of trauma make a person more susceptible to inadvertently drawing on the Dark-Side of the Force. Using the Dark-Side of the Force was forbidden by the Code enforced by the Jedi Council, but the Revanchists had been pressured to compromise their ethics in other ways to effectively prosecute the war.

For any Jedi who had not already fallen, the detonation of the Mass Shadow Generator was a final blow they could not withstand. They all fell – into the Dark-Side, into death, away from the Force.

This was the conversion that Revan desired. The moral conversation – the acceptance of actions that violated their previous moral code, the previous moral code that would not have permitted making war on the Republic. The conversion in the Force – pushing Jedi to the Dark-Side ensured that they would not be accepted back into the Order by the Jedi Council even if they desired to return.

3) The Jedi Council’s decision to exile the Jedi who returned to face them was a gift to Revan and Malak. The Council’s judgement might have been rooted in their discomfort with what the Exile had become but the reason they publicly gave is that the Exile disobeyed the Council to follow Revan to war. That reason applied equally to every single other Revanchist. By exiling the one Revanchist to return the Jedi Council exiled them all, whether or not they intended to. They may not have, but by deciding to keep secret the true reasons behind their sentence of exile they ensured the other Revanchists could interpret their judgement no other way.

Telling the Revanchist Jedi they would never be welcome to return to the Jedi Order ensured that they would never go back. Onwards was the only path left to them.

4) Revan was extremely charismatic and competent. The Revanchist Jedi had already decided that Revan and Malak judgement was better than the Jedi Council’s when they chose to defy the Council’s orders to follow them to war. Revan, Malak and the Revanchists then won the war for the Republic. In fact, Revan even discovered the shadowy threat the which had been the Council’s justification for sitting out the war through engaging in it, while the Jedi Council remained ignorant.

The Republic government probably bungled the early stages of the Mandalorian Wars by not intervening sooner. The Mandalorians were committing more than enough war crimes for them to justify it, but they allowed Mandalorians to expand their territory, build their forces and industry, and entrench their advantage. When the Republic did enter the war, it wasn’t because the Republic leadership had made a strategic decision, or even a moral one; it was because some corrupt politicians organised bribes to fast-track Taris into the Republic because it was under threat and they wanted to protect their business holdings there. The Jedi Council was also tangled up in the culture of corruption; Lucien Draay was given a seat on the Council even though he’d been accused of planning and assisting the murder of four Padawans because of his powerful family connections.

The Old Republic was more an aristocratic republic than a democratic one. Alderaan, Onderon, the Empress Teta system – they were all monarchies during this period, not democracies. If aristocrats could hold power through right of blood and plutocrats through wealth, then why shouldn’t Revan lead the Galactic Republic by right of merit and conquest?

Revan was secretive, but at least some of the other Revanchist Sith knew about the shadowy threat – the True Sith Empire. If the Republic was going to need to fight another war against an even greater enemy, surely it would need better leadership. Leadership like Revan.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #kotor meta #Revanchist Jedi #Revanchist Sith #Revan #the Jedi Civil War #the Mandalorian Wars #the Battle of Malachor V #Darth Malak #The Jedi Exile #knights of the old republic #war crimes cw

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antianakin · 9 months

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A question, if I may? Do you think Anakin, as he was when he first joined the Jedi Order in TPM, was doomed to fail as a Jedi, so to speak? In-universe, not out-of-universe meta. At that point, do you think it could have gone either way for him, in that he was still capable of becoming a Jedi? And may I be cheeky and ask for full details of why you think that, one way or another?

I've written a post about this before because my answer to this kind-of encapsulates my primary interpretation of Anakin as a character.

In case people don't want to click the link, I'll rehash it a little below.

I think Anakin never would've been a good Jedi because by the time you reach him in TPM, he's already the kind of person whose values and desires don't match up with the Jedi lifestyle. This doesn't make him a bad PERSON, at all, and he's entirely capable of getting a lot of good out of the Jedi's teachings. I think that Anakin was capable of really being able to HEAL through Jedi training, but that if he had been able to really learn from them the way he should've, he would've left the Order voluntarily eventually out of recognition that this life ISN'T WHAT HE REALLY WANTS. Anakin doesn't WANT to be as limited as the Jedi are forced to be by making themselves answer to the Senate and the Chancellor. Anakin DOES want to be able to prioritize the people he personally cares about (in the more normal way that people tend to do, not the genocidal way he does in canon).

And all of this is FINE. Honestly, I think this is the ultimate good outcome for Anakin, to spend enough time with the Jedi to allow their teachings to heal him from his past and give him control over himself to the point that he can pursue the life he really wants in a healthy way. I think Anakin was always capable of being an incredible person and the character we see in TPM is entirely capable of going either way on that, but no, he'd never make a good Jedi.

I also think that if Anakin had been found a much YOUNGER age, like 3 or younger, he'd have been perfectly capable of being a good Jedi. It would remove his attachment to Shmi and the way they had to live their lives, it would allow him to have a better foundation of Jedi philosophies, and it would help him to really see the JEDI as his family rather than constantly searching for a "real" family beyond them. This interpretation comes straight from Lucas himself, who has said that if Anakin had been found at a much younger age, he'd have been fine with being a Jedi, but that being found late was, in many ways, his first stumbling block towards darkness. And that's no one's FAULT, obviously (aside from perhaps the slavers who took Shmi), but it doesn't make it any less true.

Let me know if you want more details on my personal interpretation of this!

#star wars #anakin skywalker #jedi #pro jedi #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #my friend and i came up with an entire au where anakin is born with a dyad connection to obi-wan #this also allows obi-wan to be a part of anakin's life as long as shmi is #and - through obi-wan - that connection to the jedi as his family too #he learns jedi things via obi-wan - both philosophical and physical #and this allows obi-wan/qui-gon to find him at like 4 years old #and this ultimately keeps him from meeting palpatine until he's already been knighted #so he identifies as a jedi more than just in name the way he does in canon #and while he struggles occasionally the way everybody does; he's not the selfish greedy fascist asshole he becomes in canon #he's a REAL jedi - in all of the ways that's supposed to mean #this au was born out of us trying to figure out just what it would take to ensure anakin didn't fall #and it took A LOT of work to give him all of that #because it requires both being brought to the jedi v early AND eliminating palpatine until much later in his life #BOTH of these things have to happen or anakin's fucked

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arcann · 5 months

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Haha I did finish it in time! Happy estar guars day to those who celebrate! 🤪💣💥💀

47. crave

There is nothing fun about planet hunting. Dozens of crews were given vague coordinates and possible sectors where their query could be hiding, and they were all set to figure out where it was. Some would compete and make bets (and, curiously enough, part of them would always land in the Alliance’s pockets, especially if the credits piled up and rivalries began to form). What started as a mission ended in a spectacle. Some of the participants never returned but if the location was found Command didn't complain much.

However, there was no profit if those credits begot grudges and someone began stalking and taking down Alliance ships in the same places they wished to explore.

And so a different kind of hunter was set loose. One that would search for hidden bases and secret refueling stations these dissidents could have set in nondescript planetoids with the objective of unsettling them enough to think twice before continuing.

Or they could outright kill them, take what they had, and let their bases become a dust trail in space.

Both solutions could be justified when the only ones who left those sequestered places were of the same mind.

And so when the need arose once more, plans needed to be made, each more effort and cost efficient than the last. In the beginning six teams were sent, then three, then two, lately only one. Still, the usual commanders needed to be informed.

“And with any luck, team Blue will deal with these laserbrained idiots and we’ll all be together again in less than a fortnight.” Risha Drayen’s voice echoes across the conference hall and people take it as her way to announce the meeting is over. She was known for disliking more formal parting words.

Diokos can easily hide his relief at the news that his team wasn’t chosen this time and approaches Blessaire, the leader of team Blue. She’s already reading the new information that had just been stored in her datapad but stops when she sees him approach.

“I have to bring a squad of no less than ten soldiers with my team, half of each faction, so everyone is pleased.” She sounds relaxed, even if her hand holds the datapad apprehensively. “The only good part is that I get to pick the ship.”

“Ten? I could do it with half that number.”

“Hey, didn’t you hear me? I have to.” Blessaire shrugs, but her mouth turns into a sharp grin. “I could do it all by myself if they’d let me.”

“You’d be fifteen in total.” He lowers his voice to ask. “So who gets to be angry this time around?”

“No one. I have to bring Vaylin. She is a permanent member of my team now.”

“Ah.”

“Yes. Ah.” It’s her turn to mock, now that he started it.

“Stop.”

His weak protest makes her giggle and she returns to her reading.

“It makes these situations easier, for now. At least one person in each of our teams isn’t marked as soundly supporting a side.” She glances at the entrance of the conference room, through where most of the attendants had already left. “That could change soon, but don’t tell anyone I said so.”

“Easier, you say.” Diokos frowns at that, “As if there weren’t plenty of reasons for why those two should stay in a gray area.”

“Just as many reasons to convince them to pick a side.” Her voice takes a more hurried tone. “In the most agreeable terms possible, if it were possible.”

“How could they find it agree–” Diokos starts, but the Battlemaster interrupts him, waving in his direction as she moves to his side. To him, she just walked past his left and then she was out of his sight, as if she had never been here, yet she probably allowed him to notice her as she walked away. To others, she must have disappeared completely, imperceptible to their senses and gone from their memory.

When he turns, he sees why she did that.

Vaylin and Arcann had just entered the room, awkwardly shuffling as the wary glances of those who were left fell on them, then returned to what required their attention. Vaylin’s gaze pierces him for a moment, as if she expected him to act against her, but it ends when she elbows her brother hard enough to make him flinch. With a few glances and nods, their postures change and Vaylin leaves the room in a rush while Arcann looks more secure of himself as he walks towards him.

Every time he looks at them, Diokos wonders what it would be like to share a bond like that from the beginning of his life. Even when everyone hates or fears them, those two could lean on each other and be confident that someone would be there to back them up, no matter how awkward or dangerous things would get. It made him jealous and angry at himself. No sith needed those types of bonds, especially if they required so many open shows of familiarity. But then again, those weren’t the most peculiar actions the siblings had done that shocked the Alliance members.

They used to kneel when they had reached some meters away from Diokos and Blessaire. Vaylin came close to raging in the brief time they reached the floor and some said she would hit her brother later that day, almost violently. Arcann, on the other hand, was clearly beaming behind his mask the first (and only) time they made their reverence in perfect unison.

Nemore’xiel had told him it was the exact same distance Valkorion’s twin sons kept when they knelt in front of him. Diokos didn’t know how the cipher got that information, but if he had a credit for every time he wondered that he would be richer than any planet hunter alive. He knew even less about how he should react to the act. With shame, perhaps? Annoyance would not cover what he felt.

Soon enough though, someone ordered them to stop. Blessaire had told him Vaylin’s mood had improved much after that little ritual was forgotten, so the one who came up with it became more than obvious.

He shouldn’t act too surprised if one of these days, when they were alone in some reconnaissance mission or the aftermath of a battle, Arcann knelt to report for no reason. As if he needed any more proof that Diokos was in fact never possessed by his father, or anyone else for that matter.

He wishes ardently that the fallen emperor wouldn’t do it now. Not after everyone is holding their breath, expecting something bad to happen between them. He wore his armor impeccably, as if he were still ruling the galaxy from his throne. His prosthetic arm had improved even further after he joined the Alliance, modified so the plates were shaped differently, like sharpened yet refined blades to keep others away, a symbol of a warrior going to battle. Diokos heard he had another one, for more casual settings, but there would be no reason for him to see it. Arcann’s mask had stayed the same, repaired to perfection after all the damage it had received when Diokos had defeated him.

The Wrath realizes he is also wearing the armor he used to defeat the emperor all those months ago.

And once Arcann reaches him, he doesn’t kneel.

“I heard there was an opportunity for us to go out this time, my lord.” Arcann says almost melodically, as if he wanted to get on his good graces as fast as possible. “There was, but team Blue was chosen at the last minute.” Diokos answers plainly. “Ah.” Something fades from his voice, as if he was reacting to bad news. “So Vaylin was right to hunt down Battlemaster Thul.”

Hunt down…

“Yes, meanwhile Team Red will have an open schedule for the next two weeks.” Diokos stares at him, waiting for his reaction. “Any thoughts on what to do with that time?”

Arcann scoffs at that.

“Really? They’ll quickly think of a way to send me on a mission to the other side of the galaxy, and they’ll hope it lasts just as long as my sister’s just they can do it again. And again. And again.” Arcann waves his hand distractedly, but he stares at Diokos with much more intensity than he does. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I wished to know what you preferred. That is all.”

Arcann’s shoulders slump, and yet his only visible eye widens at the offer.

“Very well, if you would intercede for me with Command I would very much like to go to… Nar Shaddaa.”

Diokos makes an inhuman effort to not roll his eyes, but he can’t manage to stop the temperature from dropping a few degrees. The other groups of people look warily at them and some, mostly imperial personnel, immediately take it as their cue to leave.

“I don’t even know why I–”

“If. You. Would. Let. Me. Explain. My lord.” Frustration flares in Arcann’s voice but by the end he is pleading. “During our imprisonment, Vaylin and I had a most unique perspective in some plans of the larger players of the Outer Rim and we wished to see if we could use that information.”

Diokos can tell he practiced this pitch, but he can’t figure out why he’s selling it to him.

“For the benefit of the Alliance, of course.” Arcann adds rapidly, for once letting his eye leave the wrath’s face.

“Of course.” Diokos repeats sardonically. “One thing: you speak of Vaylin. Shouldn’t she be here for this outing of yours? What will she think when she learns you’re planning to do this behind her back?”

He didn’t need to add that last part and the guilt swarms for a moment. Diokos had been told many times to avoid causing a rift between his new allies but his bitterness won at the last moment. He can only feast on Arcann's conflicted feelings while he pauses to think.

“Have they ever let me go on a mission with my sister? You know the answer is no. Now think of how likely it would be if they knew we came up with it together.”

Completely impossible, with good reason.

“Therefore, we decided if one of us saw the opportunity to do it then we should take it, even if alone.”

“She let you tell me?”

“Of course, I trust her and she trusts me.” Diokos decides to pointedly ignore that even if the temperature drops further, uncomfortable even to other force users. By now everyone had already left and it is just a matter of when this encounter would be reported.

“Did you hide this information from Command on purpose?”

“I didn’t hide anything. They know. They have just chosen not to act.” The frustration comes up again. He’s not used to being questioned like this. “I want you to convince them… I need you to convince them.” He corrects, self awareness kicking in.

“Careful, emperor…” Diokos lowers his tone even if it’s not necessary. “Tell me, now, why did you choose me?”

Arcann’s posture shifts, as if he had finally said something right. He approaches him as if he was about to tell him a secret.

“I would choose no one else. You know exactly how we should deal with these people. Only you and I are capable of giving them what they deserve.” The Wrath thinks back to Arcann’s falling flagship, when the haze of combat disappeared and Arcann had fallen to his knees. Everything around them was on fire. He watches Arcann’s eye darken from a pale yellow that could be confused with green until it looks almost red at the borders.

“You and I? Just the two of us?” He sees it now. The fallen emperor wants vengeance. He wants ruin upon the ones that hurt him and his sister, yet Diokos’ brain grips to the same old fear.

Betrayal.

“Yes.”

He gets his answer, thick with a feeling Diokos can’t identify. Anticipation, or awe, maybe. It’s clear Arcann’s mind is far away already, despite the pervasive surroundings the Wrath shaped just for him.

“Now tell me, what will happen when we land into that pit filled with your enemies? What will you do, Arcann?”

“I will protect you, or I will let you take the lead. Whichever you prefer. Other people would just slow us down.” Arcann pauses, his expression unreadable with his mask. It’s similar to how he looked when he had perfected his reverence, but not quite.

And yet, reality soon hits him and his next words sound almost disenchanted. “We will investigate, we’ll find the perpetrators, we’ll get results… We’ll return.”

“You want to return? This is not an attempt to escape then?” Diokos crooks his head, wishing he was discerning enough to understand what else Arcann wanted out of this.

Arcann stares at him, perplexed by his question.

“Escape? From you?”

Without warning his prosthetic arm reaches for Diokos and the sith stops him, fast like a reflex, just a few inches away from his face. That is completely unexpected, enough to leave the Wrath speechless. Another display of power he can’t understand from Arcann. It’s even more confusing when the fallen emperor doesn’t get the message, and he starts to fight Diokos’ telepathy with his own, his left arm insisting on staying on track, as if he craved to touch him.

Diokos doesn't want to crush his prosthesis' fingers, he knows how difficult it is for the former emperor to find repairs. His mind falters and Arcann’s hand gets closer. Everyone has told him so many times to not start fights and here he is, in a room colder than an ice planet, glaring daggers at someone he should fight side by side.

But why is he trying to do this now?

So he stops pushing him away, not knowing what would come next.

Arcann in turn falls back completely, staring at his metallic hand with wonder.

“Unthinkable.”

The sith doesn’t know what to answer to that so he sinks in his shock, waiting for his old enemy to choose when to restart the conversation.

“I apologize, you… I got distracted” Arcann’s eyes are just as dark, even if he seems less tense, decidedly ignoring their confrontation. “I beg that you think of my proposal and tell me your answer some time soon. Thank you for listening to me.”

That last part sounds memorized and practiced, but his voice betrays his words.

He bows slowly and deeply.

“My lord.” And with that he makes his leave.

Diokos glowers as he exits the conference room, not knowing what to think or how to act. He’s stuck in his frustration and his confusion and the walls creak as he lets his discomfort show. He wonders if that’s what it feels to be truly blindsided with the clumsiest provocations.

“What… was that?” A perplexed voice startles him, saying just what he thinks. Blessaire appears right next to him, as if she had never left.

“I… don’t know.” He answers, and he feels like he could blush if he felt healthier.

“Did you finally give him the go?” she murmurs, her voice tinted with something like apprehension.

“I will think about it. There must be something worth looking at if he wants to return to Nar Shaddaa, but I don’t know if I will be capable of noticing it. Or maybe he’s just looking for petty revenge.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean it like–” Her eyes widen and quickly move to a corner of the room, avoiding the sight of him. “Never mind. That could be good. For him.”

“Not so for me.” He sighs. Her gaze returns to his face at the sound of that.

“You’re right. This wouldn’t be good for you, especially if he’s becoming so bold. Keep that in mind.”

She gently lays her hand in his arm and Diokos is shocked by how warm it is. The feeling clashes with the freezing room which he made worse with his temper. He can’t help himself and puts his hand over hers, gripping her as if she could slip away any second.

“But I will not worry, because I trust you.” And with that he lets go of his temper, and allows the warmth to return.

#context: blessaire is my jedi knight and battlemaster #nemore'xiel is my imperial agent #a/rcann and v/aylin spent some time captured by the hutt cartel bc they left s/enya after voss and a/rcann was still fucking beaten up #and well. v/aylin isn't the best caretaker. tee hee #otp: no nature no nurture never again #oc: diokos #written words

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corruptedforce · 2 years

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@desireandduty

Anakin had been worried about Padme, since he got her away from idiot Rush Clovis’ house. Sure, he had given her the antidote. But, the idiot had also gotten her poisoned, and Anakin wasn’t just going to let that go. Sure, he’d left him there and didn’t care what happened to him, but despite their slight talk about how she gave him reason to lose faith in her, and he said no she didn’t, she was still sleepy on the way home. He’d carried her up from the launch pad, into the penthouse, not needing Threepio’s help, by any means, and he was beyond glad for the level separation between them and the handmaidens. She had newer ones, that she’d had when she was younger, but he didn’t want to deal with any questions, tonight.

This was part of why he knew that her investigating Clovis was bad. It didn’t matter that she got what she needed to help. She had been hurt and that bothered him.

He worked to undress her some, and reached to pull one of her simpler nightdresses out. The woman had far too many complex clothes. “Angel, wake up and help me. I need to make sure the antidote is working too. We’re home and you’re staying in bed, in the morning.”

#desireandduty #(Padme)#V: Jedi Knight aka Hero with No Fear (The Clone Wars)#// I went with something else completely

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sunnymoonxx · 3 months

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❝programmed for pleasure❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: Your best friend Qimir always had your back, and that didn't change when the Jedi accused you of treachery. Without hesitation, Qimir helps you hide. After days of close quarters and constant danger, things get heated and secrets flow to the surface.

warnings: this is just filth, english is not my native language, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (who needs it with him right), fingering, hints of mind control, reader finds out qimir's identity during the act, choking, cockwarming, degradating, praising, 5k+ words, not proofread

a/n: in ep2 when osha was pretending to be mae and qimir's mask dropped- so did my panties and i wish we could see what would happen if the jedi didnt barge in

also i apologise if this is not my best work my brain's rotting

now playing, fill the void by the weekend and lily rose depp

The sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows across the bustling market square. The air shimmered with heat, and the scent of exotic spices mixed with the dust kicked up by the steady flow of people. The cacophony of merchants hawking their wares and customers bartering for goods filled the air, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere. That's when you jumped in, covered in a heavy cloak, weaving through the crowd, moving with desperate urgency that contrasted sharply with the slow pace of the marketgoers.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and sweat trickled down your temples, but you didn’t dare slow down. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the fear that suffocated you.

You glanced over your shoulder, scanning for signs of your pursuers. There, in the distance, the unmistakable silhouettes of Jedi Knights moved with an unerring determination, their robes flowing like liquid shadows. Panic surged within you, propelling you forward even faster.

You stumbled into a fruit vendor, nearly toppling the cart, and barely registering the vulgar complaint thrown at you, only focused on your desired destination.

Ahead, through the throng of people, you spotted the familiar sign of your friend’s shop. It was a small, unassuming place, nestled between two larger establishments, almost easy to miss if you didn't know what to look for. You aimed yourself toward it like a ship setting course for a distant star, your legs burning from the exertion.

Another quick glance back showed the Jedi gaining ground, their calm, composed faces a stark contrast to your own panic. You had to reach the shop; you had to get to safety. With a final burst of energy, you pushed through a group of curious onlookers, thrusting them to the ground, and practically threw yourself against the door of the shop.

It swung open with a jingle of bells as you tumbled inside, the cool air a welcome relief against the overheating streets. You slammed the door shut behind you, the noise causing your friend, Qimir, to look up from behind the counter, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, what are you—"

"Shush," you panted, leaning heavily against the door, trying to catch your breath, scanning any sign of the Jedi through the glass door. "I need to hide."

“What is going on?” Qimir appeared right behind you, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. He motioned for you to follow him. This wasn’t the first time you had begged Qimir to help you, and many times you had promised to pay him back, but you never did. You tried to calm yourself as you followed him to the back of the shop where the infamous hidden trapdoor was placed.

“I owe you,” you breathed out, looking up at Qimir before you kneeled down to get in, climbing your way into a narrow space, the darkness of the room slowly enveloping you.

“You always do,” he murmured to himself before he closed the door, leaving you alone in the pitch-black darkness. You’d been here many times, so it wasn’t difficult finding a certain switch, turning on the lights that partially blinded you. As you quickly got used to them, your other senses heightened, hearing Qimir making his way back to the front of the shop above your head.

You pressed yourself against the cool earth, willing your racing heart to calm. Above, you could hear the faint murmur of voices, the unmistakable timbre of the Jedi questioning. You held your breath, every muscle in your body tense, praying that your hiding place would remain undiscovered.

You calmed yourself, putting your hand on your chest where your heart would be, carefully listening to the conversation above you.

“Have you seen a cloaked figure running by this shop? We saw them run this way; do not bother us with lies,” came Yord’s unmistakable voice. You had never liked him, even as a youngling or a Padawan. He finished his trials sooner than you and felt the need to remind you every second. Today was the last day you decided to respect it.

“I think I saw someone pass by, but I didn’t see their face or where they were going,” you heard Qimir lie to the Jedi, protecting you again. You never grasped how he could lie to the Jedi and not get caught. You always suspected he was Force-sensitive and accidentally blocked everyone out of his mind, but that theory vanished quickly when he once face-planted on the ground after you woke him from his peaceful sleep. Maybe he was just a good liar.

Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, you heard the Jedi grow quiet, leaving the shop. You allowed yourself a tentative sigh of relief, knowing that you had narrowly escaped capture. For now, you were safe, as long as you stayed with Qimir.

It didn’t take long for Qimir to come back for you, opening the trapdoor to get you out. You climbed fast, jumping at him, almost crushing him with your suffocating hug.

“I’d like an elaboration on this one,” he declared into your ear, waiting for you to let go of the hug but returning it with slight pressure. “Weren’t you supposed to be in the Outer Rim? That’s where your Master sent you.” You let him go, running your fingers through his hair, making a big mess on his head. He let out an annoyed scuff, furrowing his eyebrows, but his smile betrayed him.

“Hmm,” you whispered, turning back to him to walk to the door and shut down the blinds. The Jedi might have been gone, but you weren’t sure. “I was already there. Mission accomplished.” You replied with excitement as you threw away your cloak on the counter, turning in a circle back to Qimir. His expression was to die for.

“Wait,” he picked up his hand as if to stop you from coming closer to him. You stopped your movements, a cheerful smile playing on your lips. “You killed Kelnacca, without a weapon, and managed to come back and do whatever you did for the Jedi to hunt you down?” He didn’t trust you at all, and it was painfully obvious. He circled around you to block your way, even if you had no intention of going outside and leaned against the counter.

“I killed Kelnacca without a weapon, came back here, and killed Torbin.” You smiled, hoping for Qimir to cheer up too, for he was the one always believing in you and your Master’s missions for you. “That’s why they chased me; they found out. But it’s done. I did it.” You couldn’t help but jump towards him, looking up at him as he stared you down.

“You killed them both without a weapon?” he repeated his question, scanning your figure up and down, like he was trying to figure out if you’re joking or serious. Your smile dropped, as you realized he was more of a puppet to your master than your friend. You liked Qimir, but there were times when you didn’t know what he was thinking or where he was going on random days.

You scuffed to yourself, annoyed but understanding in some way. You weren’t always the best apprentice, but you earned it. You earned your place as his pupil and hoped, one day, your master would show his face to you.

“Is this what you want?” you asked, irritated, throwing a tied bag on the counter, right next to Qimir’s hands. He was hesitant but opened the sack, revealing two Jedi lightsabers: Kelnacca’s and Torbin’s. “I could have brought their heads, but that would defeat the purpose.” You added, frustration obvious in your tone. You were so excited to tell Qimir, your friend, about the great news and were immediately let down by his reaction. You hoped he’d be happy for you, finally safe from your Master as you satisfied him with your work.

"Sorry, just shocked," he let out a small chuckle before closing the bag again and leaving it on the counter. "He'll be so pleased with you," he turned to you, a wide smile on his lips. The drastic changes in his mood always scared you, but now you were simply happy you could share the happy news with him.

“Of course I’m proud of you too,” Qimir added, coming towards you to pull you into another hug, this one warmer and more reassuring. You hesitatingly wrapped your arms around him, melting in his embrace. However small and skinny he looked behind his untidy clothes, whenever he hugged you, you almost disappeared between his arms.

“Now who’s gonna tell him?” you muttered into his shoulder before he let go of you, his hands leaving your back seconds later. You were so happy about your success that you never thought of informing your master. Even though you passed his test, you were still nervous about talking to him. His mask was scary enough for you, and his quiet mannerisms were even worse. You could never read what he was thinking, what he was planning next, or what he might be contemplating doing to you. If Qimir volunteered to inform him, you wouldn’t protest.

“Well, you should,” he stated to your bad luck. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” He smiled before going behind the counter to search for something on the lower shelf. You had to snort at his choice of words.

“Please,” you chuckled. “My Master? Thrilled?” You came behind Qimir, observing as his long fingers grasped a small glass of orange drink and set it on the table. “I don’t think he’s ever shown any emotions besides boredom and anger.”

“That’s because he’s wearing a mask,” Qimir pointed out, pouring the orange fluid into two separate small glasses. “Maybe he’s smiling behind it.” You admired Qimir’s delusion.

“I bet,” you started, waiting impatiently for Qimir to finish pouring the drinks, “he’s actually planning my demise behind that mask.”

Qimir handed you a glass, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Or he’s planning your next big test, which he’ll pretend doesn’t impress him but secretly makes him proud.”

You raised your glass to his, a smirk forming on your lips. “To surviving another day and confusing my Master,” you toasted.

Qimir clinked his glass against yours. “To more victories and shared secrets.”

As you took a sip, the cool, sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the looming threat of your master’s reaction, Qimir’s unwavering support made you feel like you could handle anything. With a deep breath, you set your glass down and looked at him, determination shining in your eyes.

“Alright,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ll tell him. But if he decides to execute me, I’m holding you responsible.”

Qimir laughed, a sound that felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. “Deal. But I have a feeling you’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

“Let’s hope,” you sighed, leaning against the counter on your elbows, letting Qimir’s eyes wash over you. “Also, he has to be hiding something.”

“What do you mean?” Qimir asked, a confused expression on his face as he put his already empty glass down.

“What if he’s deformed under the mask?” you let out, your face scrunching at the thought. “Or what if he’s just ugly?” You stared at nothing, not paying any attention to the words you were saying.

Qimir’s eyebrows twitched with amusement as he scanned you carefully. “You haven’t seen his face yet?” he asked, noticing how you played with your ring between your fingers as you stared down at the ground.

“You know I haven’t,” you replied with an annoyed sigh. “Look, I made peace with it, but I’m still curious about what he looks like. I want to know who’s teaching me all these things.” You complained, pushing yourself away from the counter, your eyes glancing at the black curtains over the window.

Qimir leaned back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. “I get it. It’s human nature to want to see the face behind the mask. But maybe it’s more about what he’s teaching you than what he looks like.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. “Leave it to you to find the deeper meaning. I just want to make sure I’m not taking orders from someone who might be scarier without the mask.”

Qimir chuckled, stepping closer. “You’ve faced Jedi Knights, completed impossible missions, and survived under his training. Whatever he looks like under that mask, you’ve proven you’re stronger than any fear or curiosity.”

His words settled over you like a comforting blanket, and you felt a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. “You always know what to say, don’t you?” you turned back to face him, a genuine smile on your lips. Lately, you had noticed the way he looked at you. How his eyes darkened when he thought you weren’t watching. How his arms twitched your way when you walked past him and his intense gaze during your conversations. Like now.

Qimir was your friend, supplier, and occasional therapist. You could always vent to him about your Master, and he listened carefully. Many times, you slept over in his shop, passing out on the floor, exhausted from your tests and missions. You couldn’t count how many times you bled out in front of him and woke up the next day with your wounds bound and healed. You knew Qimir had his own secrets that he wasn’t confident in sharing with you, but some things kept you awake at night, wondering.

Despite his poor hygiene and greasy hair that framed his face in an unflattering way, you found him magnetic and charismatic. Something about him pulled you closer, and you didn’t know what. Between the nightmares and horrors, you were a victim to in your dreams, Qimir showed up to comfort you many times. You were embarrassed every time you woke from them, but the images never left your mind. And whenever you saw him after, you deep down wished they would become true.

Two days have passed since then, yet his intense gaze still lingered in your mind. He let you use his shop as your personal sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the Jedi that didn’t stop searching for you. Each day, you watched them through the window. Three times they've marched past, and twice they've entered, repeating the same questions, their eyes scanning for any sign of you.

Qimir once suggested you could leave the planet, but you quickly dismissed the idea. The Jedi now controlled who could leave or enter the exosphere. You regretted not hiding Torbin’s body, leaving him there to rot. Anger had taken over. You wanted the Jedi to find him. You wanted to shove it in their faces.

The days began to stretch into what felt like weeks, with only the tension between you and Qimir keeping you alert, even though it made time drag. The first night when you jumped out of the shower and had to borrow his clothes, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flew to your legs that the towel didn’t fully cover. Or when you tied your hair into a braid, his gaze never wavered. You didn't mind being observed, but with Qimir, it was different. His gaze made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t decide if in a good or bad way. His touch made you shiver, his presence alone made your skin burn. The only relief was that he wasn’t sensitive to the Force. If he knew what you thought every time you saw his hands or brushed against him, you’d want to drown yourself.

A few hours after you hid in his shop and got drunk together, you both decided it would be fun to practice some moves and fighting techniques, without lightsabers. Minutes later, you found yourself straddling Qimir’s lap, pinning his hands above his head. You knew he could easily turn the tables and have his way with you, but he didn't move a muscle. Instead, he laid there, letting you crush his lap as he circled your face. You remembered it vividly: how his breath tickled you, how his lips were so close that moving an inch would ruin your carefully built friendship. You were grateful for the self-control classes your Master put you through.

Now you were seated on the floor, leaning against the cold surface of the counter, staring out the window. The black curtains were no obstacle to you. You heard Qimir coming out of the shower; he didn’t want to smell like the gasoline you accidentally spilled on him. You held a glass of some beverage Qimir had prepared, both of you slowly getting dizzy from boredom and drinks. Resting your head against the table, you closed your eyes and saw Qimir through the Force. He was still in his small, cozy bathroom, drying himself with a towel. His hair was wet but looked better than it had a few days ago. His back muscles flexed as he raised his arms to dry his hair. You hadn't realized he was so fit under his clothes, and it made you squirm in your seat.

You knew you shouldn’t be spying on him like this, but the only time you had seen him like this was in your dreams, and reality was far more enticing. Your thoughts grew louder with each passing second, one screaming over another.

He was your friend and also worked for your Master. It would be wrong. You knew the consequences it could have on your relationship with Qimir, and you didn’t want to risk it. But the way he looked at you, the way his proximity made you feel, and the thought of his body against yours drove you crazy.

Your Master wasn’t against you having lovers and fulfilling your desires, as long as you stayed loyal to him. But you weren’t sure how he would feel if his two subjects started something together.

“You alright?” Qimir’s voice woke you from your thoughts as he stood in front of you. Only in his pants. You looked up at him, trying to contain your craving as you checked him up. Droplets still falling down his chest as he leaned against the other shelf, looking down at you from dangerous vicinity.

You almost choked on air, forcing yourself to look away.

“Yeah,” you choked on your words, lifting the glass to take a sip of your untouched brew. “Why you ask?” you forced a smile, missing his still wet, glossy chest to get to his face. Your heart dropped as you met with his prolonged stare. Half-lidded dark eyes staring right at you, his silhouette towering over you as he took a step closer, throwing the towel he was holding on the table.

“You staring into distance kind of scared me.” He chuckled, tilting his head as he leaned against the counter, you almost broke your neck looking up at him. He was right above you.

His hand was placed right above his pants that got to caress his thighs first. His skin was clean and wet, scars decorating his abs. His muscular chest was uncovered, free for you to admire. When he spoke to you his voice was low and raspy, different from the one he usually used. Your heart fluttered as you noticed his eyes wondering around you as he awaited your response.

You had to move, you thought to yourself. Pushing yourself against the floor you lifted yourself to your legs, the drink in your hand spilling as your hand twitched from almost falling into Qimir’s arms. You could feel the warmth radiating of off him and smell the shower gel he used. His hair was dripping wet, droplets adoring his sharp collarbones. His nipples were hard from the chilly temperature in the shop, his forearm big and large, holding his body above the table.

“Just, concentrating.” You coughed, putting the glass on the counter. “So,” you woke yourself from your dreaming, turning away from him, trying hard not to stumble. The drinking wasn’t as bad as Qimir’s half naked figure centimeters away from you. You felt faint and your thoughts only got worse, like somebody was putting them in. You felt a pressure, but you were convinced you were doing it to yourself subconsciously.

“Is everything okay?” You heard Qimir asked again behind you, feeling him walk towards you. You could feel his hands lifting, so when you turned back to face him, they brushed against your stomach. You had to fight back a moan.

“Just, the Jedi thing.” You smiled, hoping you were convincing enough, and he wouldn’t suspect even the theme of your thoughts. Resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms against your chest, you put a leisure expression on your face, as your mind raced with images. “It’s stressing me out.” You unnecessary added, trying to stare anywhere but his face or his arms or his exposed chest. He had to be cold.

“It’ll pass in a few days.” He smirked, lifting his arm to rest it against your shoulder. The cold skin made you gasp but not as much as his dark eyes.

“I just don’t want to bother you here for days.” You tried to convince yourself. “You surely have things to do, and my Master will be waiting for the news. I’ll go after sundown.” You didn’t wanna go but you had to inform your Master and the air between you and Qimir started to be intoxicating if you didn’t do anything.

“I’m sure he already knows.” He cocked his head, pulling his arm away but leaving his fingers to tickle your skin.

“You told him?” you wondered, pushing your thighs together as a small smirk appeared on his smile.

Fuck.

“No,” he denied, his eyes leaving yours, to trace them down your body. “But I’m sure he knows. Maybe he wants you to relax for a while.” He implied. You dropped your gaze from his eyes to his lips, your core slowly heating up.

“I would rather still be sure,” you swallowed your saliva, your voice breaking, his body dangerously close to yours. “Aren’t you cold?” you let out, embarrassment washing over you. He let out a chuckle when he saw your hand awkwardly pointing at his bare chest.

“Not really,” he replied, scanning your expression. He knew you were nervous; he knew your legs were about to give up and how you struggled to pretend to breathe normally. He enjoyed every second of it.

“Good, good.” You uttered, nodding along. “As long as you’re comfortable.” You wanted to fall into some deep hole and never come out.

“Are you comfortable?” he purred, closing the space between you two, his hand lifting to your face but not actually touching you. Just hanging there, below your jaw, right next to your neck.

“Why, why wouldn’t I be.” You stumbled over your words, his eyes burning your skin open. You felt his breath against your face, his curtain bangs brushing over your forehead. His feet met with yours, his chest in front of your face.

“You don’t look the best.” He whispered, leaning in, his lips now touching your ears, sending shivers down your spine. You moved your hand to the counter next to you, praying and holding yourself for dear life. “I think you need to relax.” He teased against your ear, slowly moving to your neck.

“I think I should get ready to go.” You panted, but not moving a muscle. His one hand moved right next to yours on the table, fingertips touching yours. You were so frozen by his lips tickling your neck, you inhaled sharply when you felt his hand sneak behind your waist to pull you against him. Your hands automatically pressed against his chest, closing your eyes.

“If you want,” he rasped, lifting himself to face you. You couldn’t recognize him. His eyes were pitch-black dark, animalistic look set in them. His lips were full and pink, not a sign of the Qimir that you talked to few minutes ago. You were breathless, your heart pounding heart against your ribs.

“Do you want to go?” he whispered, carnal lust in his gaze staring right back at you. You felt the wetness between your legs growing stronger with every passing second. “Do you want me to let you go?”

“No.” you answered so fast you felt ashamed. But what followed fulfilled all your dreams and more.

All the useless items and glasses on table thrown on the floor without any of you touching them, to make a room for you as Qimir lifted you up on the counter. You shakily brought your hands into his hair as he dived into your lips, imitating sex. His hands groped your breasts, fondling them and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric of your borrowed blouse.

You felt his hand abandon your face, making its way between your legs, feeling your wetness through the pants. You were soaked. You didn’t miss the smile on his lips when his fingers pushed against your core, feeling how wet and useless you were for him.

You whimpered against his mouth when he pulled away, resting against your forehead as you breathed each other air.

“For how long you were this wet?” he smirked against your lips, his fingers putting pressure against your pants making you gasp. He knew the answer, he knew exactly what you liked and where you liked it. But he wanted to hear it coming from your mouth.

“Since I first saw you,” you muttered, rolling your hips against his fingers for more friction. As soon as you made that movement, he pulled his fingers away to shoved them inside your mouth. You didn’t protest and without hesitation started to circle your tongue around them. His fingers were thick and long, making you choke when he moved them deeper.

“Such a fucking slut.” He growled, his legs spreading yours apart. Your heart fluttered at his words and confirming its statement when you let out a moan, from his fingers sneaking its way under your pants and panties to find your burning clit. You threw your head back, as your back arched, wanting to feel more of his touch.

Qimir watched you with satisfaction spread on his face as he felt you getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to his digits. He continued teasing your clit, rubbing it in circles as his other hand squeezed your breast roughly.

“You want it that bad?” he murmured, his voice raspy and electrifying. He chuckled at your failed attempt to respond, inserting his finger into your soaked hole. He pumped it slow and deep, reveling in your reaction. “No worries now.” He taunted.

Qimir couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he watched you squirm and moan. He relished the power he had over you, keeping you in the dark and letting you believe you weren't being humiliated in front of your Master. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch you for his cock.

“Let me hear you beg for it,” His eyes gleamed with lust as he towered over you, plunging his fingers deeper inside of your cunt. He curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot as he pumped them faster. “I want to hear you plead for my cock.”

You had no idea Qimir had this in him, but you were so dizzy because of his fingers fucking you hard, you had no strength to focus on anything else.

“Please Qim-“you shivered, eyes rolling back in your head. “Please I need you inside me.” Your breath hitched, his fingers curling and spreading your cunt.

“Atta girl.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you, receiving a vulgar insult thrown at him. He relished in seeing you like this. He dreamed of this every day, wanting you, his pupil, spread open in front of him, letting him take you however he wanted. You were his and he was gonna make sure you understood what exactly that meant.

He smirked mischievously before leaning forward to kiss you deeply, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Once I start, complain all you want, I’m not gonna stop.” He whispered against your lips before breaking away and looking deep into your eyes. He was a totally different man and it made you shiver throughout all your body. Even his energy changed, letting it wrap around you in the Force.

Qimir startled you when his hands landed on your chest, pushing you back so you’d lay open on the counter, legs spread open for him to take. Smiling excitedly, he grabbed your hips and move you closer to the edge of the table, before slowly unbuckling his pants.

“You ready?” he asked, licking his lips before pulling his cock out, already covered in pre-cum. He looked so beautiful above you, his hips so close to yours, his hair falling into his face and his chest raising as fast as yours. You looked a mess, but you were his mess and he wanted to devour you.

Nodding, you made yourself comfortable on the table, its cold surface making you shiver.

Smirking, he positioned his dick at your entrance and slowly thrust himself inside, making sure to stretch you nice and slow, taking his time to make the moment last. He bit back a moan, looking down at you lovingly as you struggled to keep your eyes open and not pass out at his thick cock filling you up.

“You’re doing great so far for me.” He grinned, before pulling out and slamming back in, his movements becoming faster and rougher. You forced yourself to grab the ends of the table to hold yourself in place, Qimir’s grip on your hips being nothing compared to the way he was treating your pussy.

His thrusts became harder, loving the way your walls wrapped around his cock, squeezing him tightly with each thrust.

“You’re finally getting what you dreamed of,” he groaned, lifting your hips to drive his cock deeper before pounding away. “Getting fucked by your Master.”

You cried out when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, not realizing the meaning of his words until seconds later.

“What,” you tried to lift your head up, but the way his grip tightened on your waist to fuck you harder had you failing to catch your breath. Your heart started to pound faster as the realization hits.

He saw your expression change but your body kept replying to his merciless thrusts. His hand moved from your waist to reach for your head, lifting you up, face to face. His forehead was covered in sweat, his long hair curling around his ears.

“You did so well on your last mission, I had to reward you.” He panted, not stopping his assault on your cunt. He read the conflict in your mind, letting you come to your own conclusion.

“You’re,” you trembled, his cock spreading your walls so good you had trouble to even consider the words he was saying, denying yourself.

“You’re such a good apprentice but such a slut now,” he mocked you, his hand moving from your hair to your neck, putting in pressure. “I wished you realized sooner tho. We could’ve had this every little visit of yours.” You cried out as his hand fully wrapped around your neck, his cock never stopping filling your cunt.

“Master, I don’t understand,” you managed to breathe out, feeling his cock start twitching inside your walls. You heard him groan, right next to your ear, at the feeling of your tight hole gripping him. He started to thrust harder, feeling the friction build up.

Resting your foreheads against each other and swallowing each other’s moans, had the both of you sweat, the room picking up your scents.

Qimir reached down, rubbing your clit as he continued to fuck you hard. He could feel the tension building inside of you and knew you were close.

“Cum for me, love.” He growled, his hand never leaving your neck and pulling you closer to him. “Cum for your Master.” He hitched, picking up the pace, slamming into you as hard as he could. He could feel his own orgasm approaching.

His grip on your throat tightened as he fucked you harder and faster, slowly losing control of his strength. He could see the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he pounded into you and squeezed your throat harder. Your hand automatically few to his hand that held you, struggling to breathe but not enough to make you pass out.

“You belong to me,” his voice broke, letting you know he was getting closer and closer to losing it. “You’re mine.” He whimpered into your ear, his hips bucking wildly, driving his cock deep inside of you as he came, filling you up, marking you as his. His paced slowed down to match yours, wanting to feel you cum around him, your walls almost crushing him.

Qimir didn’t move and kept his cock inside you, letting himself and you calm down and try to catch your breath. As you regain your composure, your head against Qimir’s chest, your mind almost exploded with the overwhelming thoughts.

I fucked Qimir.

I fucked my Master.

Qimir was my Master all along.

You wanted to run away, hide yourself and never come out, but Qimir’s, your Master’s arms wrapped around you and your pussy still keeping his cock warm, had you melting, not wanting to move an inch. You were confused, terrified, and thrilled all at the same time. All the times when Qimir disappeared without explanation, all the time he lied to the Jedi or did things only Force sensitive beings could achieve. It all made sense now and clicked together like a puzzle.

But you also realized he had the power to read your thought all along. He could see the impure images, the ideas, and pictures you had in your mind. Your complains and desires. Your fear. But that didn’t matter anymore. You let your Master used you, like the good apprentice you were. You had no idea what would happen now, your heart wanting to jump out of your chest, your skin covered in goosebumps. You were scared but the desire was stronger. And if Qimir ever taught you something was to transform those emotions into power. And you had enough desire to annihilate the entire Jedi order, with Qimir by your side.

#star wars #osha x qimir #qimir #qimir the acolyte #qimir smut #qimir x reader #star wars qimir #star wars smut #starwars #the acolyte #qimir fic #smut

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pasukiyo · 6 months

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TAKING OVER ME

anakin skywalker x f!reader word count; 3,801 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, reader is a sex worker summary; you haven't been able to get your mind off of the handsome jedi knight since the first night you laid with him. and now he's back, but something seems off...

The Jedi Knight was coming again.

The other girls grumbled their displeasure and glared her way as she applied her lipstick, rubbing her lips together while she touched up her makeup in the vanity mirror. She paid them no mind however— she knew they were only envious.

It’s not like she could blame them. Never before had she ever actually looked forward to working with a client, in fact, if you had told her she’d be this giddy like a young school girl just a month ago, she’d scoff as if it were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. No one was just excited to do this kind of work anyways, it was just a way to get by before, a way to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly.

It’s not like she still wanted this life for herself. Not at all, actually. If it were her choice, she’d have run away with the handsome Jedi long ago. But she told herself that if this was the only way she could have him, even for a few nights at a time, then it was worth it.

And he was coming back today.

This was only the third time he’ll have come to her, the third time in the span of a few months but she’d been dreaming of this moment since she saw him last. She’d practically been on a whole other planet since the last time he left her, she couldn’t even bring herself to care when she’d been called for other clients, didn’t even care when the gross Mon Calamari man came in last night.

It would all be meaningless come tonight, when she finally saw him again.

“How come she gets the actually appealing clients, Lizcar?” Vitta, a Twi’lek asked from the vanity beside her. She rolled her eyes as she touched up the blush on her cheeks, catching a glimpse of their Rodian employer, Lizcar, through her reflection in the mirror.

“It is not like I choose the girls for them, ho-tah,” Lizcar scoffed as she approached where she sat, eyeing her features through the mirror. She suppressed the urge to grimace when Lizcar approached, the strong scent of Ryll lingered on the Rodian’s breath and clothes. “The Jedi pays good money,” she said at last after a prolonged moment of silence. “See to it you are on the best of your behavior tonight, yes, kwa-sah tee?”

Lizcar reached out with her long, noodle-like fingers to drag them against the underside of her chin and she blinked away her distaste, peering up at her employer through her darkened lashes. “Yes, Lizcar,” she replied simply, silently willing her Jedi Knight to hurry up and rescue her from her awfully smelling boss.

Lizcar hummed low as she retracted her fingers, relief washing over her as the Rodian turned and made her way towards the door. “I will come and fetch you when he arrives,” she said before slipping out the door and she watched as it slid closed behind her.

The girls in the room continued their gossip, a mixed jumble of Basic, Huttese, and other languages permeating the room. Vitta, however, slid away from her vanity stool and she watched as the Twi’lek approached out of her periphery, her breath hot as she leaned down to face her reflection in the mirror. The Twi’lek’s seafoam green eyes bore into hers and the cerulean skin of her hand soothed down from her bicep down to the crease of her elbow.

“I wonder what the Jedi Knight sees in a simple girl like you,” Vitta’s voice said in a soft hiss, each syllable laced with a hint of venom. The Twi’lek’s animosity was palpable in her touch and she found herself grimacing, eyelids narrowing as she gazed at the woman beside her. “You are so plain,” Vitta continued, plucking a strand of hair from behind her back and tossing it before her face, a corner of her purple lips curving in a smirk when she twisted her face in displeasure. “So basic.”

“And yet, he did not pick you,” she replied in a hiss, turning to glare at the Twi’lek beside her. Vitta’s gaze darkened as she turned to bare her teeth, lip curled in challenge. Just before either could say any more, the door once again slid open for Lizcar to step back inside, calling her name.

“The Jedi is here for you, mwa-shashi,” she announced and she gave Vitta one last hard look before she rose from her seat, the Twi’lek, too, straightening her posture. With one last look at the blue girl before her, she spat, “have fun with the Snivvian.”

And with that, she pushed past Vitta, the thin lace of her long, black cover-up flowing behind her as she followed Lizcar out of the beauty room and into the foyer. The Jedi Knight was not there, however, and she turned to face Lizcar quizzically.

“He has already gone up to your room,” she stated as she circled around the front desk, bending down to reach for a bottle she had tucked away out of sight. “Seemed very worked up. Wouldn’t doubt that you have your work cut out for you tonight.”

She couldn’t help but feel the corners of her lips twitch at this as she made her way to the staircase, practically skipping every other step just to ensure she could reach her room faster. She could feel her heart lurch as it beat in her throat when she approached the door of her bedroom, willing herself to breathe and relax as she pressed the button on the panel beside it, the door sliding open.

The room was dimly-lit, illuminated solely by the setla lamp in the corner. A tall, dark figure stood with their back turned to where she stood and her heart skipped a couple of beats as the door slid closed behind her. The Jedi Knight still did not turn and she did her best to keep her composure, although it was proven difficult when she knew how good he could make her feel.

“You’re back,” she managed at last, speaking through a lump of saliva that had formed at the base of her throat. The Jedi Knight hummed as she cautiously approached, her fingers wary as they traced the line of his elbow through his thick, dark robes. She circled around until at last, his side of his face came into view, the thin scar that fell in a line down the end of his eyebrow, the plush of his pink lips that pressed themselves together in a firm, thin line.

This was hardly the first time she’d ever seen him but still, the sight of him never failed to take her breath away. It was truly devastating how beautiful he was, like a fallen angel who just so happened to stumble into their galaxy. He was simply unreal, for a human especially.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, finding his gaze beneath the darkness casted on them by his lids. His eyes were like endless pools of deep blue, like the murkiest waters of Kamino. There was something darker in them now, however, something she couldn’t quite place. Something was troubling him, it didn’t take a Jedi to sense it. Lizcar appeared to be right— she did have her work cut out for her. “Something ails you… are you alright?”

The Jedi Knight— whom she didn’t have a name for, for either of their safety’s sake— let his eyelids fluttered closed, his chest heaving as he drew in a deep breath. Her brow furrowed as she watched him, as the arm she had been gently gripping onto moved, his other hand— his mechanical hand— wrapped around her wrist, dragging it up to his face. She gasped when her knuckles connected with the warm flesh of his cheek, when she flexed her fingers and could feel just how soft his lips were.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said at last, turning his lips into the skin of her hand and she shuddered when he placed a kiss there. His fingertips pressed into her wrist and she pressed her lips together as he placed a kiss to her knuckles, another to the tips of her middle and forefinger, trailing his mouth down to her wrist.

Goosebumps erupted over the expanse of her skin as he worked his kisses down her arm, using her arm to pull her into him as his lips reached her shoulder, trailing from her collarbone, up her neck, to her chin where he peppered kisses along the expanse of her jaw. He nuzzled his nose against the underside of her jaw just beneath her ear and breathed her in, as if he’d been craving her just as much as she him.

“I’ve missed the way you smell,” he said and she gasped when he kissed the lobe of her ear, his teeth gently nibbling on the soft skin there. “I’ve missed your skin. The way it feels. The way you feel.”

She whimpered when he trailed his kisses back down her jaw until they reached the center of her throat, pressing the most delicate of kisses there. Then, his mouth made its ascent back up her chin until it reached hers, their lips touching but not quite. She was shuddering, her lips quivering against his in anticipation.

The Jedi Knight let his eyelids open and she, too, looked at him, his gaze so dark she swore she’d be reduced to a puddle at their feet any moment now. Locks of dark blonde hair fell over his eyes and she resisted the urge to reach up and swipe it away just as his lips parted once more.

“The noises you make whenever I so much as touch you.”

Heat flared from her chest and fell down in a line to her center, warmth swirling and wetness pooling in the thin panties she wore. The Jedi Knight pressed his lips harder into hers, sealing them in a kiss. Her knees began to wobble and she swore she’d be a puddle of magma at their feet had his hands not been there to support her.

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as his tongue swirled inside the expanse of her mouth, and it didn’t take much for him to have full control over hers. She mewled into his mouth, leaning into him for more until he pulled away, either of their chests heaving as they chased air back into their lungs. Cold bit into her skin as he removed himself altogether from her and she fought back a whimper as he removed the outer layer of his robes, dark gaze never once leaving hers.

“I’ve been from planet to planet nonstop since the last time I saw you,” he said in a low murmur as she lowered herself on the bed, slowly removing the lacy black cover-up she wore, the thin shoulder straps sliding down her shoulders. The Jedi Knight was down to just his pants, pulling the shirt he wore beneath all of his robes up over his head and letting it drop to the floor. “I’ve been to many beautiful places and met many new people yet, all I could ever think about was you.”

She flushed at the confession as she unhooked her bra, tossing it aside so that she laid bare for him, save for the black lace panties she wore. The Jedi Knight’s deep blue gaze wandered over the canvas of her body as he approached, hovering over her, his fingers woven through her hair as he shook his head down at her.

“I don’t know what you have done to me,” he murmured. “But I cannot get enough of you.”

He pressed his lips to hers again and she was putty in the palms of his hands, so eager for more of him that she didn’t know what to do with herself. His kisses ventured past her mouth, past her face, past her throat until they reached the valley between her breasts, his breath hot as it fanned over her skin.

“What have you done to me?” He whispered before turning to ravage one of her breasts, his tongue swirling over the peaked bud, her lips parting in a gasp as her chest heaved closer into his mouth. He removed his lips from one bud only to venture over to the other, truly not letting a single part of her body untouched. Her fingers wove themselves through the messy locks of his hair and she could just make out the dark gaze he was giving her through hooded lids, tossing her head back into the pillows behind her when he pulled away.

His kisses traveled down her belly until they reached the hem of her panties, pressing his lips against the lacy material. “I couldn’t stop touching myself at night thinking about how good you feel when you are wrapped around me,” his voice spoke in a low husk and she mewled as his fingers curled around the hem of her underwear, tugging them down her legs agonizingly slow.

“Please,” she gasped when he finally ripped her panties away from her body altogether, feeling his breath as it approached her arousal. She squirmed beneath his gaze, wiggling her hips, desperate to have him closer. The Jedi Knight simply watched and she swore she could feel the intensity of his gaze on her pussy, on the slick that was surely dripping down her slit. “I need… please.”

He glanced up at her through the dark of his eyes, slowly lowering himself closer to her throbbing heat, his lips but a mere whisper away from her sensitive bud. Her hips bucked, or rather, they tried to anyway before an invisible force held them down, away from him. Her eyelids snapped open and she peered down at him, his hands on the mattress beside her body.

He was using the Force on her.

“Patience,” he tittered and he was so close to her, she could feel the half crescent shape of his lips against her heat. “I plan to take my time with you. To rid you of the memories of the nights between when I last saw you.”

She was a mess and he hadn’t even touched her yet. She struggled against the Force, desperate for any sort of friction she could gather. It was no use, however. He was too strong and she huffed, deflating in defeat.

The Jedi Knight chuckled at her realization that she was defeated, lowering his head until his lips could place the softest of kisses against her clit. She gasped at the abruptness of his kiss, her chest heaving in anticipation as he kissed her again and again and again. The Force pried her legs open and his arms hooked beneath her thighs, tugging her in even closer.

His tongue flattened against her entrance and she hissed through her teeth as he licked one, agonizingly slow stripe up her slit, flicking his tongue against the underside of her clit in the process. Sweat already began to bead on her hairline and oh, how she ached for more. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted his tongue or his fingers or his cock inside of her— all she wanted was him as close as possible.

“Please!” She mewled as he teased her tongue at her entrance, as if playing with his meal. The Jedi Knight chuckled, “such manners.”

And then she was done for.

He buried his tongue inside of her, so deep that she wasn’t sure it was impossible for a tongue to be able to reach that deep inside of her. She was a shining, writhing mess as he ravished her pussy, practically shoveling her orgasm out of her with his tongue. Her hand reached for his curls again, tugging at his scalp, to which she earned herself a hum of approval, the vibration sending her even further down the tunnel of bliss.

The Force was back on her hips the second she began to buck them again, holding her down and ensuring he wouldn’t let a single drop of her release go to waste when she finally let go. Tears stung the outskirts of her eyelids as she came and she swore she could see the entire galaxy when he worked her through her orgasm with his tongue, lapping every last drop she had to offer up.

When he pulled away, she cried out, wanting more, needing him on her again. The Jedi Knight’s lips and chin glistened with her slick and he chuckled at how desperate she was as he pulled away to tug his pants down his legs, finally letting his cock spring free of its restraints. Even through the blur of her tears, she could make out just how big he was, could already feel her mouth begin to water at the sight.

“Please,” she murmured as he approached like an eclipse, casting a shadow over her. He was so big that all she could see was him, all she even cared to see was him. It was times like this she wished she had a name to put to his face, that she had a name that she could call out to, to moan. He was her beautiful stranger, her beautiful enigma she wished she could know everything about.

“You’re so… desperate,” he sighed as he hovered over her, pressing his lips onto hers for a brief kiss. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Once again, the Jedi Knight was able to steal the breath from her lungs, to leave her speechless. She sighed as he kissed her again, as his hard length prod against her thigh before against her entrance, gasped when the girthy head broke past the barrier between her folds.

She tensed and cried when he pushed just an inch further in and he shushed her, kissing the tears away from her face. “Relax,” he cooed, waiting until she eased before pressing himself further inside of her. Still, he wasn’t all the way in but still, she felt so full.

“You’re so… hngh!” She cried when he snapped his hips further to sheathe the rest of himself inside of her, her nails etching crescents into the flesh of his shoulders. The Jedi Knight kissed her just below her eye again, pressing kisses all the way down to the shell of her ear.

“Call me by my name,” his whisper curled around her ear and she fluttered her eyes open, just making out the darkness of his stare through her watercolor vision. “But… but I—“

“Anakin.”

She gasped when he pulled out almost all the way just to snap his hips back into her again, feeling full to the brim with him yet again. Anakin. He had a name and felt like he trusted her enough to share it with her. Something sacred fell between them, like a thread had been sown between their souls to bridge them together.

She now knew his name.

“Anakin,” she breathed when he kissed her again, pulling away so that he could grip the headboard of the bed with his mechanical hand, his other grabbing a fistful of her hip. He cursed when she said his name for the first time, using the headboard as leverage to buck his hips into her again, harder each time.

“Say it again,” he groaned, fucking into her so hard that the bed was shaking, his grip on the headboard not enough to keep it from etching dents into the wall.

“Ana…! Anakin!” She yowled as his tip bruised her cervix over and over and fucking over again. White hot bliss scorched her skin, Anakin had taken over every single one of her senses until all she could think about was him. He was a parasite, infecting every sense of her being until she couldn’t think straight anymore.

She wasn’t quite sure she cared.

“Anakin!” She screamed again as she pulsed around him, squeezing his cock so tight that he cursed and fell until his lips were against her neck, sucking marks into her skin. She was so close to the edge, so close to succumbing to the bliss that she almost didn’t quite hear him.

“Run away with me.”

She blinked, his pace never once stopping despite her own world coming to a screeching halt. Surely she didn’t hear him right?

“Wh— what?” She managed to ask through the murky slime of her mind, trying to make sense of what she just heard. Anakin lifted his head from the crook of her neck until their gazes could crash into one another again, much like a supernova. She mewled when his hips slowed but still, the feeling of him inside of her stayed.

“You heard me,” Anakin drawled, his mechanical hand woven through her tresses while the other caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I know you hate it here. So leave with me.”

She was at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing but nothing could come out. She wasn’t sure what to say— was this not what she had been daydreaming about only hours before?

Still, a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her this was just a joke, that he couldn’t have been serious. Yet, when she stared deeper into his dark blue gaze, she wasn’t convinced that he was just jesting.

“But where… I…”

“Don’t worry about that,” he shook his head, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Let me get you out of here. I can’t stand to be without you and… and I know you’re not happy here and I…”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She leaned forward, lifting her head until their lips were connected, stealing his breath away this time.

“Yes,” she breathed against his mouth once they had broken their kiss. “Take me away with you.”

Anakin smiled, white teeth peeking from the cracks of his lips. He bucked his hips into her again and she gasped, clutching the bedsheets as he grabbed either of her hips, fucking into her at such an animalistic pace, she wasn’t quite certain how she would even manage to run away with him if she couldn’t walk.

“Gonna be all mine,” he murmured beneath his breath as he pushed her towards that edge once again. In the back of her mind, she could only imagine the rampage Lizcar would go on in the morning when she realized her top girl was gone. She could imagine the look on Vitta and the other girls’ faces when they all realized who she must’ve left with.

And she smiled up at Anakin just as either of their orgasms washed over them.

a/n; so uh happy Easter!! 😭 not sure if this is the most appropriate thing to post on Easter but you know....

anyways, me?? posting two days in a row??? (do not get used to it LMAO)

TAGLIST;

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin smut #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars smut

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crowsandmurder · 2 years

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HERE - @bchemianrhapscdy

The lack of trust his master sometimes had in him was frustrating. He was the chosen one, the most powerful Jedi they had ever seen and met. And yet, it seemed none of these things were enough to prove him his worth. “Don’t worry, master. I had it all under control.” he replied, his tone respectful but it was clear he was making a little bit fun of his worry. “It was nothing I wasn’t able to deal with on my own. It’s just..” he paused for a moment, revealing his broken saber. “I broke it again. Nothing I can’t fix either.” he quickly replied.

Obi-Wan could be hard on Anakin, but Anakin needed some self-discipline. He was more arrogant, than he needed to be. Was he the chosen one? Sure. But, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t determined to turn him into the best Jedi Knight, that he could. He had promised his master he would. “Did you?” He gave him a look. “Anakin, Anakin.” How many times had he given him the talk. “Do you need the lecture or should I start it? Anakin, your lightsaber is your life..go on.”

#bchemianrhapscdy #✖ [Anakin]#V: Jedi Knight #✖ [Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi]

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writerbuddha · 9 months

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Yoda’s teaching on emotions in Episode V is simple and explicit: do not draw your strength from anger, fear and aggression, because they energize you easily and quickly, but they also kick you out of the driver’s seat and they will lead you to a place where you’re doing evil things, like Darth Vader. If you give in to them once, that will leave a permanent mark around which your future will unfold. In order to discern the currents of strength that are the energies of anger, fear and aggression within you, bring yourself into a peaceful, calm and non-reactive, i.e. passive state. This is what Luke fails to do in the cave, when he faces with his own fear, anger and aggression in the form of Darth Vader. And this is what he becomes a master of in Episode VI, when he manages not to give in to his dark parts, and choose compassion, selflessness, kindness and hope instead of fear, anger, aggression and hatred, and becomes a Jedi Knight. He faced Darth Vader - both within and without - and truly won the fight.

#yoda #star wars #luke skywalker #jedi order

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im-poe-dameron · 1 year

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─── BREATHE ME IN

a/n: so um...i have no idea what this is. i started this when the kenobi series was coming out and sort of dropped it after a month. but here i am, finally finishing it and making it longer than it was supposed to be. did we really expect me not to find darth vader hot? i think he's where my whole loving a masked character came from. honestly this is basically filth with me trying to shove plot in not so subtly. so i hope y'all enjoy!

summary: the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there's a secret he hides even from his own master.

word count: 5.5k+ (because i'm insane)

pairing: darth vader x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, tenderness which is shocking, thigh riding, choking (obviously), oral (male receiving), a tad bit of face fucking, dom/sub dynamics, rough p in v sex, overstimulation, more hints of anakin than vader.

You’ll never be able to forget the scent of him after that night one month ago. It was branded in your mind, forever a part of you as he bent you to his will—made you his without even saying a single word. You should have fought him on it; made him see that you weren’t ready to relinquish the power you once held, but you knew the man beneath the mask he wore. You had known Anakin before he became this, before he twisted himself up inside and gave into being Darth Vader.

Even now as you stood in your small home on a planet far away from the Empire’s touch, you could feel his control over you. Long before the order was given and Jedi were slaughtered, you had been one of them. A knight who fought alongside Anakin in the Clone Wars—a warrior who chose the side of good rather than evil.

Then things fell apart. You were told that the man you loved, the person you cherished the most, gave into the dark side.

He became a stranger once more.

But nobody runs from Anakin for long—especially when he’s become a force more powerful than any Jedi could ever hope to be. You were hiding out on Devaron when he found you, attempting first to turn you to the dark side with him. Only for you to see something break in his exterior, his walls dropping for a split second and you felt it like a punch to the chest. He needed you.

This absolute desire was not born out of lust but pure necessity, because even as Darth Vader…Anakin Skywalker still lived beneath the mask and he didn’t know how to live without you. You’d always been the person he turned to when Obi-Wan wouldn’t understand the nature of his feelings. When he could no longer control them himself.

So, he left you there—allowing you to remain a Jedi who chose the light side of the Force over him. But he would return again and again. Desperate for someone to put his strained mind at ease—the memories of his past haunting him with every waking day. Perhaps that's where the submission started. In helping him by allowing him into your bed, into your heart little by little each time until eventually…you yearned for him to.

Jedi weren’t allowed to have such strong attachments, but as a Sith…he could keep you as his for as long as possible. A deal you wholeheartedly agreed to with a single word.

The stars were starting to shine brightly in the night sky as you traversed the dense forest of Devaron, your lightsaber clipped to your side and hood drawn up over your head. You heard his ship land ten minutes ago; knew he now stood in the center of your home awaiting your arrival. So, you took your time. Anakin never liked to wait, Darth Vader was no different, and somehow that brought a smile to your face. So desperate to see you that he would battle his way through the forest alone to find you again.

He would come after you—you knew he would—and that brought back the pool of heat that always found its way to your body when he arrived.

There was something twisted about loving him even the way he was now. How could you, a Jedi Knight of your ability, love something so dark? How could you give into the sinister deliciousness of that side, yet still remain so true to the light side of the Force? The answer was simpler than you thought. In your mind he still remained as Anakin the man you loved and even though you knew what he did, what he now became, you couldn’t let go of your heart fully.

Even if the scars now showed as small canyons and ridges, each one holding a darkness that would ultimately cause your demise.

He knew this.

Nobody loved Darth Vader, nobody gave themselves to the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, without understanding they would die because of it one day. Perhaps that’s what caused the absolute ache in your bones at the mere sight of him. The thought of one day no longer being by his side. Some Jedi may claim you were betraying what you believed in—destroying yourself just for an inkling of mind numbing pleasure—but it was more than that. Pleasure ultimately gave way to the pain of loving someone beyond saving.

As expected you arrived at your small house to the sight of a black ship—big enough for one—in the clearing that was solely used by him. The darkness bled through the Force, encasing you in a biting cold as you walked towards the already open door. One might say the sight of him standing amidst your tiny living room was terrifying enough to run away. But you were never one to cower in fear from him and you refused to start now.

His head tilted, energy stretching out towards you through the old connection you used to have with him, and with a small smile you reached back. Twining your brilliant blue around his obsidian nature until you saw him shudder beneath his cloak.

“You’re late,” he said—his voice something you had to continue to get used to.

Humming, you dropped your robe onto the chair behind him, heading towards your small makeshift kitchen where you knew there’d be some bread from the day before. He turned, watching you move as you continued to press your Force signature against his own—reminding him of a time when he too held a blue lightsaber brighter than yours. This was a two way street. You savored the bitter sweetness of the dark side, relishing in the rush of power that flowed through your veins, and he once again fell back into what he used to know. The calming serenity of the light side.

“You’re early,” you teased, knowing his temper was far worse than before. However he always seemed to control it around you—the tight grip he had on his anger evident in the way his fist clenched.

“Where did you go?” He demanded more than asked nowadays and so you stayed silent, awaiting for the flare of anger to shove its way into your mind.

It never came though. The silence almost shocked you as you turned, eating the remainder of the bread. But that’s what he wanted out of you—a reaction that would show you actually acknowledge his presence. How could you not? When he stood there looking like the true embodiment of the dark side of the Force. Although there were times when you missed the sight of Anakin standing before you—a smile on his face that always reached his blue eyes.

“Exploring,” you said, eyes flickering down the length of him—taking in the sight of his rigid stance. “How long are you here for?”

“Tonight.”

His answers were blunt, to the point, because he didn’t have time to dawdle. You were his secret, you knew this. If anyone found out you’d be killed and knowing who Darth Vader answered to…he’d be forced to do it himself. So, you nodded and finished the remainder of your bread as you continued to watch him—prodding at the wall of his mind to hopefully see within. But they remained up, blocking you from anything other than his Force signature which remained tightly entwined with your own.

“How long will you be gone for?”

He paused, pressing against the walls of your mind to see what exactly you were thinking, but you knew he didn’t wish to forcefully tear them down. You were not a person he was interrogating—rather a lover who he may very well lose if he didn’t act accordingly. His fist clenched again, the struggle to remain in complete control now wavering as you stalled for time. He knew what you were doing and yet he still played along.

“I don’t know.”

You hummed, once more pressing against the wall in his mind. It was dangerous to be let inside—having seen what he harbored behind the thick barrier—but your curiosity always wished to drag you into trouble.

What was safety compared to intimately knowing the most lethal person in existence? To you there would be nothing more intriguing, nothing more worth the risk than this simple gesture.

“Don’t,” he spit out, stepping closer until your lower back was digging into the counter.

“You let me in once before—”

His gloved hand landed on your throat, silencing your words and causing a shudder to run down your spine. Though the position wasn’t unfamiliar, it still brought a small inkling of fear to peek its head out. He could kill you—without remorse. Yet he never did. He simply remained, holding your throat as tenderly as he possibly could—relearning what the meaning of gentle was. That thought alone brought a dazed smile to your face, your eyes nearly fluttering closed as his thumb ran along the column of your neck.

“That is no longer a luxury you are allowed to have.”

The words were sinister on his tongue, like a sharp knife to your heart, but you’d been scarred by him before. “Is it because I know what I’ll find? Or are you afraid?”

His control finally snapped, the pressure on your throat now crushing you until you struggled for air. But he didn’t squeeze harder, he didn’t make sure that you were unable to breathe completely, because he couldn’t cross that line. He refused to. You were the only light he let slip through the cracks of his helmet; the one thing keeping him stable on the ground and while it wasn’t very Darth Vader of him to keep you—it was the part of Anakin that still remained that held onto you tightly.

“You know nothing.”

Despite the lack of oxygen, you smiled. “I know you.”

The words came out choked and broken, but it was enough. He froze, his hand loosening around your throat as the final realization clicked into place just like it always did when he found his way back to you.

You knew him—knew Anakin that lay beneath the surface and Vader that rose to power crushing him in the end. You knew all the ugly bits that showed through the evident splinters of his being and in spite of all of that…you still loved him. Whenever he left you he seemed to forget that when he came here he didn’t have to wear a shroud of anger that resembled his cape. He didn’t have to wean himself from the light side with every bittersweet touch, because you held no expectations of him.

“Anakin,” you breathed, hand sliding along his leather covered limb. “Come home.”

Little by little you saw his walls come down, felt the darkness seep into his Force signature until you were surrounded by it. Until the only light left between the two of you was yours—guiding him back to you for a brief moment. He’d only be here tonight, so you’d have tonight.

You would take as much time as you were allowed if it meant seeing Anakin for a brief moment again.

“Anakin is dead,” he muttered, hand shifting until his thumb was pressing against your bottom lip. “I killed him.”

Parting your lips you allowed him to invade your senses even further—the taste of the leather permeated your mouth, driving a moan from your throat. Digging your nails into his arm, you felt him push against you—forcing his way into your mind and showing you images of a past that felt like yesterday. Anakin’s face flashed before you, the smile you ached to see again finally coming back to you, and it drew a whimper to the surface. A sound he liked if the pressure on your tongue was enough to go by.

The scene shifted and you felt the heat flare to life in your stomach as you saw yourself beneath him, sobbing his name as he practically shoved you into all encompassing bliss. Memories he still held onto—torturing himself because he could no longer have you in the way he wanted. But above all that, one stuck to the forefront of your mind. The taste of him as he kissed you; devoured everything you were and felt greedy enough to take even more.

The first hints of the dark side within him.

“Maker,” you gasped as he ripped his hand away, reaching for the ties of your robes. “I miss it too.”

Gathering enough of your energy you used the Force to shove him backwards until he stumbled into the wall behind him—his large frame taking up too much space. To anyone else it would have felt suffocating, but to you…this was as safe as you were ever going to get. He ached to have his old self back not to be a Jedi again. No, he thrived in the sinister ways of the Sith. He wanted to be Anakin, to have you again by his side—to kiss you like he used to on nights where things became too heavy a burden to carry alone.

Somehow in the midst of you pushing him back and him resisting you ended up pinned to the wall of your bedroom by him. He didn’t even have to touch you to make you beg for more; for you to do anything he wanted. This is what bending to his will became and he loved it.

He stood inches away, the tips of his boots touching yours and so like a fool you let your walls down without any warning. Shoving every memory and burning need his way until he was gasping through the modulator—his hand slamming against the wall beside your head. Each moment you were with him, each touch and night neither of you slept—too busy finding what made the other tick—it all poured into his mind. You made him see what you saw whenever you were near him even with the mask.

The cold feeling of his mask pressed against your cheek as he tried to push himself closer. This is all it would amount to. Nights spent in secret when really the both of you ached for one last thing. Something you never got.

A farewell kiss.

“Anakin,” you said softly, hand sliding to his shoulder. “Are you home?”

He let out a breath, the sound distorted through the modulator before finally breaking down the last of his walls. “Yes.”

You didn’t know how long tonight would truly last and so you began to clutch at his arm, feeling a hot press of his gloved hand dig into your thigh as he raised it to his hip. A natural movement he’d done a hundred times over. That was enough to make you smile, a small bit of laughter echoing off the walls of your tiny room. Although darkness still clung to him, still twisted tightly around your Force energy, he remained the man you loved.

Both Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader alike.

“Tell me,” he groaned, shoving his knee up gently and fitting it right at the seam of your pants.

It almost didn’t feel fair how he knew your body so well—how he knew which way to move you to finally hear that familiar moan tumble past your lips. Grinding your hips down, your head fell back against the wall when pressure was finally applied to your throbbing clit, sending sparks down your spine. You knew he watched every emotion, expression, and heard every sound behind that helmet and somehow…that made it even more electric.

“Tell me,” he demanded, hand going back to your throat and keeping you in place as his other one guided your hips along his thigh.

Fuck, you were still clothed and felt like you would fall apart at any moment.

“I—” Moaning, your hands scrambled for purchase along his chest. “I love you.”

Placing pressure on your throat he shoved pressed his thigh upwards, watching your eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched gasp escaping you as you finally broke. Light flooded his senses, nearly breaking his stance, but the sight of you writhing in his grasp—whimpers falling from your lips was too addicting for him to let go of. They say that the dark side made one greedy; desperate for whatever they wanted, and in this moment he was prepared to take and take until you had nothing left to give.

He knew you’d let him. You would give him whatever he asked for.

“Anaki—” He cut you off, dragging you along his thigh again and watching as your face twisted. Both pain and pleasure collided as you were shoved into overstimulation.

“Again,” he said, moving his hand from your hip to your pants—helping you yank them off until the leather of his glove slid through your hot slick. “I want to see you do it again.”

“Oh fuck.”

Gasping for air, you dug your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he ruthlessly began to toy with your clit. He knew exactly what to do to shove you right on that edge again and perhaps that’s what flung you over it. Or maybe it was him shoving the same words back into your own mind until it echoed over and over again.

I love you.

Sith didn’t care about things like love, but Anakin Skywalker was never truly a Sith just as he was never truly a Jedi.

He was stuck in between—crossing the border of want and need.

“I can’t.” A cry ripped from you as his other hand moved down from your neck to your chest, rubbing a thumb over your nipple. “I—Anakin I can’t.”

He chuckled, the sound menacing even to you. “Yes you can.”

This wasn’t a question—it was a choice of when you’d finally give in. The pressure in your body built, the coil twisting as he continued to rub sharp circles on your clit. When your legs began to shake and your vision became blurry from tears, you knew you were right there on the very edge of shattering, but you couldn’t. Not until he joined you on that edge—relenting his power to give you some of your own.

“Say it,” you begged, eyes screwing shut as he sunk two fingers into you right to the knuckle—his thumb continuing. “Say it for me. Please I need—I need to—”

“I love you.”

The words sounded foreign coming from his modulator, but you knew this was Anakin speaking not the twisted side of him that fed off of pain. He’d finally ripped free from the cage he was put in, leeching off the light coming from you with glee. He may not have meant the words entirely, but they did what you both intended them to do.

Sobbing his name, you felt the pressure snap in two flooding your body with a white-hot pleasure. You could hear his fingers as they continued to pump into you, rubbing against the spot along your walls that made your legs shake and tears flow down your cheeks.

“That’s it,” he muttered, hand going around your neck to hold you in place as you practically grinded on his hand—the pleasure still coursing through your veins.

You were lost to it. Mind numb to everything else but him standing before you.

It took you a few minutes to catch your breath and gain feeling in your limbs again and he waited. Gave you a chance to breathe as he fought against the impatience that trickled into his veins—a quality that was unnatural to him. Once you were finally able to open your eyes, sighing in contentment, you focused on his mind—allowing yourself a chance to see inside of it. As always it was inner turmoil that had you flinching, but right now all you saw were memories of you and him. The same ones he played over and over again while he was away from you.

“And here I thought you never missed me while you were away,” you said, lips curving into a smile sweet enough to taste.

“I don’t miss you.” He leaned closer, hand reaching down to cup your swollen cunt. “I miss this.”

Words like that should have stung, but you knew him better than that. You knew why he said the things he said. So you smiled wider, dragging his arm up until his hand was in front of your face, the black leather shiny with your cum. Twining your Force signature around him until he couldn’t escape, you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. He didn’t expect you to give in so easily—usually enjoying the fight you put him through. But tonight you’d settle for this so you could gain more.

“We’ll see about that,” you whispered, kissing his palm and dropping his arm.

You wanted him to give over the control he ached for; wanted to watch as the last of his residual armor came crashing down around you. Only one person would be able to say they brought Darth Vader down to their knees and it was you. His light, his moon, his lover.

Pushing his leg away, you pressed your hands on his chest, wishing you could once again feel the strong heartbeat beneath his skin. The steady thrum of it put you to sleep on long nights when you snuck away from the Jedi Temple, but for now you’d have to settle for the rhythmic timing of his breaths as they echoed around the room.

Without another thought, you dropped to your knees in front of him—his body keeping you caged in along the wall. You figured he already knew what you were going to do, if the way he widened his stance told you anything. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your gaze back towards him. It was the gentle nature of his touch that sent heat spilling into your heart. Anakin flared to life right before your eyes with every passing minute.

Undoing his belt, you allowed yourself a moment to admire what lay beneath the leather. What he always drew your attention away from. The skin was burnt, scarred beyond anything you’d ever seen before, but that never mattered to you. He stood stiff, his other hand pressed against the wall, helmet focused on you. Almost like he was unsure of what would happen.

Would you not care? Or would what remained not be what you wanted?

“Oh…” you gasped when he was finally free.

He was scarred there too, you’d felt it before. Except you weren’t shocked by that; no you were surprised by how worked up he was. The glossy sheen of precum building up at the tip practically dripped down your palm as you held him—begging for you to taste. Leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, the guttural moan he let out sending a flare of heat through your body.

“Is this for me?” you asked sweetly, knowing it would only succeed in riling him up even more.

He grunted, his hand pushing you forward until his cock was once more back in your mouth. Although you didn’t mind in the slightest. Not when his addicting salty tang spread on your tongue the longer you sucked on the head. He was shameless with the sounds he made. Entirely focused on his pleasure, but you felt the way he softly rubbed his thumb along your neck, sending goosebumps down your skin.

“Take me deeper,” he said, already knowing you were heading that way anyways. “I know you can.”

You moaned when he hit the back of your throat, his hips thrusting forward slightly until you gagged. That alone only made him do it again. Pressing against the firm line that stood between the both of you. He wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want—as long as you gave him control. Something you were more than okay with handing over.

It’s not like you had any semblance of it before he became Darth Vader. Anakin had always been one to take what he deemed he deserved. Except when it came to you, he always gave you the choice. Even now as your nose brushed the base of his cock, your throat squeezing him so tight his whole body shuddered, you still held the choice.

You sucked in a breath when he pulled away, tears streaming down your cheeks and spit covering your chin. Part of you wanted to keep going—to feel him spill down your throat—but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for. Dragging you up, he pressed the cold shell of his helmet against your forehead, hands grasping your hips tightly.

“I need—” He cut himself off, a loud breath reverberating through his modulator.

For the first time that night you felt it. The small flicker of blue in his otherwise black Force signature. Only in moments like this, when his desperation practically permeated the air, did you find your Anakin.

The only thing stronger than Palpatine’s hold over him had always been the love he felt for you—that was clear to you now.

“I know,” you murmured, leading him back and watching as he sat on your bed. His large frame practically took up the entire room. He spread his legs, allowing you to step between them, but you had a different plan altogether.

Clambering onto his lap, you held yourself up as you positioned his cock at your entrance. Your slick practically pooled over him, making it easier for you to take him in one thrust. But rather than rush this, you held yourself there. Hovering over his needy and wanting cock—making him wait for the one thing he so desperately needed. The blue flickered again, vibrating through you and forcing a gasp from your lungs.

You longed to pull it closer until it enveloped you entirely; til you suffocated from its light. But whatever remained was now small and fleeting, only seen in moments like this. His grasp turned harsh, impatient. Letting you know that he only had so much left in him before he took back the small sliver of control he allotted you.

Your whole body shook as you finally lowered yourself, feeling the stretch of his cock sliding into your cunt. A growl ripped from his chest, his hands pressing you down further and watching in delight as your head fell back, a garbled shout echoing off the walls. You went dizzy with the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. It rushed through you, setting each nerve in your body alight with a burning fire.

Which only made everything shine brighter.

Light flooded his senses, your Force signature practically bleeding out into the room. And he took it. He swallowed it whole in his never ending darkness with the hope that you were never extinguished.

“More,” you gasped, fingers digging into the leather that covered his shoulder.

He shoved his hips upward, grinding against you and tearing a sound from your chest that seared into his mind instantly. You were a wanton mess. Barely hanging on to the person you were thirty minutes ago—before he came back into your life. Instead there you were. The lover who fed off of his darkness; who took what the Jedi Order claimed was forbidden and begged for more.

“Maker—fuck—I-I’m oh fuck—” You made no sense, but that’s the way he wanted you. An incoherent babbling mess that rode his cock to chase that feeling only he could bring you.

Lifting yourself up slightly, you dropped back down haphazardly, hating the emptiness that came with his cock slipping out of you. A sound tore through his modulator, his hands tightening on your hips as you set a brutal pace. He groaned when your walls tightened around him, the sound of your skin slapping against the leather of his pants echoing in the room. If you listened closely you could hear the wet squelch of your slick as he set his own pace, pounding into you without abandon.

“Please, Anakin please,” you cried, unsure of what you were begging for.

He seemed to know though.

Without a response, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down tightly as he thrusted upwards even harder. The lack of oxygen seemed to only heighten the sensation you chased—pleasure building up to an almost painful degree in your body.

He bent you to his will, guiding your body in a way that felt familiar. You didn’t have to think when he was here, didn't need to focus your energy on any of this, because he did it for you. His gloved thumb pressed against your lips until you opened up with ease, sucking his finger into your mouth with a moan. It gave you a chance to take in a deep breath before he clamped down tight around your throat again. Turning your vision hazy.

“Good,” he muttered, pulling the spit slicked finger from your mouth. Only to press it firmly against your clit.

Your body arched, a broken cry falling from your lips as tears streamed down your face. It was too much, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop. You didn’t want him to. The pleasure nearly blinded you with each thrust of his cock into your dripping cunt. But what made you fall wasn’t the feeling of him finally striking against the spot that made your body curl in on itself.

No, it was the image he projected in your mind.

“That’s what you like huh,” Anakin’s voice grunted in your head, his blue eyes just as bright as before.

You sobbed out a garbled yes, eyes rolling back. The image continued. A bright blue light wrapped itself around you, nearly burning you from the inside out as he pinched your clit between his fingers. And you chased it; grabbed onto the sensation tightly and let it fill your chest until you swore your heart stopped beating.

“I want you to cum. Let me see my pussy drip for me,” he spit, dragging you closer until you were pressed so tight it nearly hurt.

“Don’t,” you gasped, shoving the image of Anakin away from your mind, eyes focusing on the empty soulless black mask he wore. His hand let up slightly, allowing you breath to speak. “I want to see you. Not him.”

Warmth spread through your chest when his hips stuttered, a groan reverberating against your breast. You wished you could kiss him. Feel the hot press of his lips on yours, but this—feeling him thrust into you quickly—was enough. His hand tightened again as his cock drove up into you harshly, hitting right where you needed to fly off the edge. Your mouth fell open, a broken sob making its way through as the all encompassing heat you so desired began to spill through your body.

A snarl ripped through your very being when he finally joined you, spurting into your swollen cunt and filling you until you leaked around the base of him. Except he didn’t stop. He pushed forward, thrusting into you until pain filtered through the pleasure. Once more you were shoved into that bliss, drowning in it with no way out.

Sobbing his name, you felt your body shake as he finally ceased his movements, allowing you to sag against him. The energy was completely depleted from you and he knew it. Which is why he didn’t move. Simply breathed deeply, his softening cock still deep in you, causing you to moan slightly at every soft twitch.

“How long until you have to go?” you sighed, your fingers tracing random shapes against his armor.

“Soon.”

“Will you come back?”

You knew you wouldn’t receive an answer. You never did, because even he didn’t know when Palpatine would finally release him again from his grasp. He let out a breath, his hands cupping your ass as he molded you to him. The blue light still flickered amidst the darkness, turning his once bleak Force signature a brilliant midnight color. And for a moment you saw the real him. The man who lay beyond the layers of his armor.

Laying a kiss against the cold shell of his mask, you allowed yourself a moment to be enveloped by him. The darkness would return eventually, wiping away the man who sat beneath you. But for now, he was here and he was yours.

Smiling, you pressed against it with your own, feeling him shudder beneath you. It was like looking at the night sky—a sight you wanted to keep until you were left alone once more. Curling around his body, you allowed sleep to finally overtake you, your mind soothed by the soft touch of the Force he pressed against you.

Only then did you realize.

In the small space of your home, beneath the strain of a galaxy under siege, your Anakin finally found his way home again.

#darth vader x f!reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader smut #darth vader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #star wars fic #my writing

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gffa · 3 months

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JEDI ORDER CITATIONS IN STAR WARS CANON, PART V [A Meta/Reference Guide on AO3] Welcome to my Jedi Culture and Teachings in Canon series, where I collate various quotes from current canon to provide a worldbuilding and reference guide, whether for better fic writing, just general interest in getting to know the Star Wars lore better, or if you want to be able to pull out some quotes when you're fighting the internet on behalf of the fictional space wizards. ;) So, what's here? Basically anything I think would be of interest to people who want to know what the Jedi are like in the canon--any worldbuilding bits (what special abilities do the Jedi have? do the Jedi have art? do they have funeral rites? what do we know about Knighting ceremonies? what are the themes of the Force? are the Jedi telepaths or empaths and what scenes in canon support that? what do we know about Jedi schooling?), any quotes from Lucas himself, all arranged in categories to help you find what you're looking for. Feel free to take this guide or leave it, it's not about telling other people what to do, if you scroll on by, that's fine, I'm not your mom, do what you want. But if you want to know what the Jedi have to say about Force bonds or what kind of clothing they way or everything we know about the main ziggurat of the Jedi Temple, I got you covered, babe. This section is admittedly overly large, where previously I would get to about 25k words of citations and post the next part, feeling that was a manageable chunk for readers. But with The Acolyte coming out, I made a challenge to myself to get caught up on all of The High Republic before it aired and I drop citations in as I'm reading, so suddenly I found myself with nearly 50k of citations and I was feeling in the groove, I had all my references easily accessible, I was getting through my backlog, I had access to some of the roleplaying guides, I was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, and, wham, suddenly it's ~70k and here I am now. But that's 70k of examples of what the Jedi say and do, my best attempt to give context to show the consistent themes and parallels within the Jedi Order all across this continuity. How to use this guide? Well, you do you, for starters! But I hope you'll read the intros, as often some books need to be put in specific contexts, and if you have any suggestions for future categories or better organization, feel free to mention it! I do this for me, but I format it for sharing, so I'm game! Feel free to check out previous sections for more examples, and just scroll through to skim the bolded sections to try to find what you're looking for, since not everything always fits neatly into a single given category! (Or just ask me! I love being a nerd about Star Wars worldbuilding.) The guide is broken down into seven sections as before:

How the Force Works

Jedi Culture & Philosophy & Teachings

Jedi As a People

Psychic Space Wizards Doing Psychic Space Wizard Things

Jedi Temple (Living Quarters, Training Rooms, Meditation Gardens and Dining Halls !)

Jedi Outreach, Politics, and the Bigger Galaxy

Fantasy Flight Games Are Not Canon But Canon-Compliant Is Close Enough

Jedi, Buddhism, and Everything Else

#lumi.txt #star wars #jedi order #meta #reference #resource #long post

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star-whores-a-new-hoe · 5 months

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The Comfort of Strangers //Padawan! Obi-Wan X Fem! Reader

A/N: Well...Hi! I haven't written in two years! I'll post a little update soon but I was INCREDIBLY horny inspired after seeing the Phantom Menace in theaters! Hope you enjoy this lil smutty Padawn Obi fic!

Summary: You and all of Queen Amidala's handmaidens are stuck on Tatooine waiting for Qui Gon to get the hyperdrive parts you need. With all the stress and anxiety of escaping Naboo, the good-looking Palawan stuck on the ship with you looks like a good distraction.

Warnings VERY IMPORTANT: I know Padme and her handmaidens are pretty young, but for the purposes of this story READER IS OVER 18!!!!! That being said, this fic contains, smut, kinda a hookup, using sex with a stranger as comfort, risk of being caught, P in V action, unprotected sex, pull-out method, handy, some finger-banging action, dirty talk, some implied Qui Gon x Reader x Obi-Wan action for a minute there oop, and probably some spelling and grammar mistakes!

Word Count: 2.8 K

With the whirlwind of events that was the invasion of Naboo, one would think that boredom would bring some welcome relief. They would be sorely mistaken.

The rush of adrenaline that had flooded your veins as you and the other handmaidens frantically dressed sabé, hands, and hearts a flurry, before chasing you up the ramp of the starfighter with gunfire at your back had finally subsided. Now, with the monotonous heat of Tatooine creeping into the ship, there was nothing but dull numbness left.

Padme had left over a day ago to experience this strange outer-rim world you all had landed on. That left the rest of you with nothing to do but worry. Senator Vancil regularly sent updates urging Queen Amidala to contact him. Each of his messages was more dire than the last. News of your people in camps, starving, dying, surrounded by those damned battle droids, those disgusting Numoidions watching gleefully from the high walls of the Theed palace.

You could practically feel all of the handmaidens' hearts sink in tandem with each new update. That young Jedi, Obi-Wan, simply reminded the Queen, (or who he figured to be the queen) to send no reply. Had he no empathy?! Obviously, none of you were dumb enough to risk the safety of your mission, the safety of your people, in transmitting any kind of message but could he not for a moment let down his Jedi knight persona and give you all some grace?

Jedi learner actually, I suppose. You thought to yourself. Curled up in an out-of-the-way nook, the hood of your orange handmaiden dress hung limply down your back. Normally you were grateful for the thick velvet robes in space, but even with the ship's cooling systems still online it seemed that they were no match for Tatooine. The oppressive heat sat thickly in the stale air, leaving everyone on board anxious and irritable.

You couldn't lie to yourself. Between your fear and anxiety, the sight of that young padawan was a welcome distraction. You were positive you weren't the only one who thought so, you had definitely caught your fellow handmaiden's eyes flick over him from under their hoods. There was just something about him. Maybe it was the cocky banter he had shared with his master, even in the flurry of battle, or maybe it was the way the collar of his Jedi robes opened just enough for you to want to see more. Or perhaps it was the way you could imagine tugging on that padawan braid as-

“Oh, apologies, I didn't realize there was anyone back here.”

You start, ripped from your thoughts by the man himself. He stood, palm braced against the doorway to your little hideaway. He’d discarded his Jedi cloak, leaving him the tan robes.

“Sorry,” You say sheepishly. “Just…taking a breather.” Truth be told, in a ship this size there wasn't much space for ‘breathers.’ There's a beat of awkward silence before he clears his throat.

“I assumed you would be with your queen and fellow Handmaidens in the royal quarters.” You resist the urge to scoff. Little did he know your queen was off in the deserts of Tatooine.

“I think we’re all just processing that last message from the senator. I just needed a moment to myself I guess.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” He turns to walk away and you scramble for anything to keep the conversation going.

“What’s it like being a Jedi?” You cringe at the question. He looks back over his shoulder at you.

“Well, Padawan.” He corrects, sheepishly.

“Right, yes. What’s it like to be a Padawan?” He turned to face you full-on, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

“It’s a life of service and peace.” He says simply. “I am devoted to the service of the Republic and the force.” You hum in response.

“What’s it like being a handmaiden?” He asks, a teasing edge in his voice. From this angle, with you still curled up on the floor, he towers over you, looking down at you with a seductive smirk that makes your stomach do cartwheels.

“It’s a life of service and peace.” You repeat. “I am devoted to my queen, my people, and my planet.”

“My, my, sounds like we have quite a few similarities.” You crack a weak smile.

“Why not take a seat?” You offer, motioning towards the cramped bit of floor in front of you. “I highly doubt you have anything better to do.” He raises an eyebrow at you before obliging. “You must live in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, right?” You ask as he squeezes into the cramped space, his knees knocking against yours.

“Indeed, Coruscant has been my home for as long as I can remember.”

“I've always wanted to see Coruscant. My family went when I was very small but I don’t remember it. I always meant to visit. I just never thought it would be under such…dire circumstances.” There's another beat of silence.

“How are you and the others fairing?” You pause, debating your response. None of you had discussed it with each other. Your grief was so profound, deep, and shared in the way only sisters know. There had been no need to speak of it. But perhaps voicing it would help.

“I think this is going to be the hardest part. At least I, we, were all doing something by escaping the planet, almost getting shot down. But this, just waiting… maker it’s eating me alive.” He nodded solemnly.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” It’s not meant to be a cruel question, but definitely a pointed one. “I thought Jedi didn't do emotions?”

“Jedi don’t do attachments. We are encouraged to feel emotions, they bring us closer to the force, closer to all the living things around us.” Maker, you wanted him closer.

A part of you hated yourself for wanting distraction, for seeing the first person in front of you, and wanting to find that special kind of escape and comfort. But a bigger part of you craved the young man in front of you, the release from this monotonous boredom and anxiety.

“And what about…entanglements?” You purposefully tap your knee against his, letting a sultry gaze flood your eyes. He straightened slightly, his quizzical gaze raking you over.

“Is that really what you want?” His question wasn't accusative or disgusted but genuinely curious, soft, and gentle. The seductive fire in your eyes dies down slightly. Your eyes flick down to the floor.

“Is that so bad?” It comes out barely louder than a whisper. A gentle hand lifts your chin till your gaze meets baby blue eyes, nearly the same shade as the lightsaber you watched him wield earlier. Oh how his hands had moved with such skill and grace, you couldn't help but imagine how those calloused, practiced hands would feel running over your body. Obi-wan smiled.

“If that's what you feel, then it’s not bad at all.” Abruptly he pulled back, the sensation of him leaving your bubble had you feeling cold even in the burning ship. “Yes, Jedi are allowed to have entanglements.”

“Oh.” you flash him a sly grin, confidence slowly seeping into you. “Good to know.”

“Indeed.” His eyes bore into yours, the tension between the two of you was electric.

“Well if you ask me,” You say, placing a hand on his knee. “We have quite some time to kill before your Master gets back with the parts we need, don’t you think?” Obi-Wan’s hand came up to play with the hem of your skirt.

“I’d be inclined to agree.”

“Why don't we kill some time then? Hmm?” Obi-Wan’s face lights up in a devilish smirk as his hands glide up to your waist.

“Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me.”

You lean forward, a soft smile on your lips that matches his before the young Jedi captures your mouth with his. It’s not the quick frantic touches one would expect of a hidden tryst. It’s soft and comforting like you both know you need the solace of another, the soothing touches of a lover not the hard and fast pace of a quick fuck.

You sigh against him, melting into his touch. Your hands slide over the expanse of his broad chest up to rest on his shoulders. One of Obi-Wan’s hands slides up over your spine, sending shivers through your body before he tenderly cradles your neck. His tongue teases the seal of your lips and you gladly let him in, pulling yourself closer to him as his tongue explores your mouth.

Pulling you fully into his lap, you can feel the bulge in his pants press against you. Simply the thought of it makes you wet. You grind your hips against him testingly and he hums his encouragement. One of Obi-Wan’s hands moves to your knee. Ever so delicately he slides his hand upwards over your thigh, the hem of your dress pulled ever upwards with his movements. His hand resting on the bare skin of your upper thigh, he gently moves you to grind against him again.

As you rut against him, Obi-Wan’s lips leave yours to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the expanse of your neck, and over the limited bit of collarbone exposed by your dress. You expose your neck to him with a sigh, letting your head fall back into the reassuring weight of his hand cradling your head.

This was it. What you so desperately needed. The reassuring touches of another that sent electric currents through your body. The safety of being held in someone's arms. Here, in this little nook with Obi-Wan, even if it was for just a moment, was paradise.

Your hands sneak their way between the two of your bodies. Reaching for his hand that gripped the pillowy flesh of your thigh, you guide him to rest it on your breast. Taking the queue, Obi-Wan gives your tit a gentle squeeze, smoothing his thumb in little circles over the fabric right where he knows your nipple is.

You practically whine at the sensation, grinding against him even harder. Your hand comes to rest on his crotch.

“Help me take these off?” Your voice comes out much more sultry than you expected. He flashes you a smile that makes your heartache.

“Why of course.” Together, you work him out of his trousers so that his erection stands tall and proud, a tiny bit of pre cum already beading at his tip. Your mouth waters at the sight. Without another thought, you spit in your hand before reaching down to grasp the base of him. He sighs at the contact and without missing a beat you begin to slowly move your hand over the length of him.

“Is that alright?” You ask, his hands slowly wandering over your thighs, ever closer to where you crave him.

“A-a little harder if you don't mind darling.” A part of you swoons at the pet name, and a bigger part of you smirks at making such a fine, confident man stutter.

You oblige, squeezing a bit tighter as you work his length and Obi-Wan throws his head back in bliss.

“Oh yes, just like that.” Seeing an opportunity in front of you, you lean forward to kiss his exposed neck, his padawan braid tickling your nose. A small blush creeps up his neck and over his cheeks as you continue to pleasure him with your hand.

Obi-Wan’s wandering hands finally reach under the skirts of your dress, his fingers dragging along the center of you, feeling the wetness that undoubtedly stains your undergarments.

“Oh my, all this for me?” He teases.

“Just shut up and touch me please.” You groan. Obi-wan places a sweet peak to your cheek.

“How could I say no to someone as lovely as you?” If you weren't flushed before that comment certainly did it. His hands push aside your drenched undergarment, letting two of his fingers leave teasing touches across you, never once letting them brush your aching clit.

“If I’d known you'd be such a tease I would have approached that master of yours.” You tease. Obi-Wan scoffs.

“I’m not a tease, you’re just impatient.” He replies slightly breathlessly. “Besides,” He adds finally drawing little circles in your clit. He leans in close to whisper in your ear. “You must be very naive to think Qui Gon Jinn wouldn't be a merciless fuck.”

For a brief moment, the thought of both of them pleasuring you enters your mind. The older Jedi taking you from behind while he instructs his learner on how to fuck your throat. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Obi-Wan capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, rougher than the last, full of need and lust.

“Obi-Wan,” You pant breathlessly, pulling away from his kiss. “Fuck me.” He groans, taking his cock in his hand to line it up against your entrance. You shimmy forward, knees on either side of him before sinking down.

You both sigh in unison, inch after glorious inch fills you up, stretching you out perfectly. He’s barely inside of you before you start moving, grasping his shoulder to help lift yourself on and off his cock. He grasps your waist, helping you move as you work yourself open on him.

the two of you build up a steady rhythm, it’s all you can do to bite your lip and keep from your moans of delight escaping the room. Obi-Wan hits a certain spot inside of you that sends a sudden gasp from your lips. His hand quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.

“Careful now, wouldn't want the other handmaidens hearing, would we?” You whine quietly in agreement. He smirks. “Think you can handle yourself without me keeping you quiet?” You nod eagerly. “That's what we like to hear.” He practically coos, his hand leaving your mouth to work at your clit, heightening your pleasure tenfold.

Every stroke of his cock inside of you leaves you a bigger mess than the last. You grind against him desperately, hungry for every touch, every current of pleasure he sends through your body, every sensation that takes you further and further from the predicament you’re currently stuck in. Everything was building up, threatening to spill over at any second.

“M-make, I won't last muc-ch longer.” Obi-Wan sighs. His movements on your clit are frantic, his thrusts sloppy like that of a man on the edge. “Please, need you to cum for me.” He practically begs. He slots his head between your neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Need to feel you come around my cock.”

He hits the perfect spot inside you as he whispers his filthy words in your ear, sending you right over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body, your cunt squeezing him like a vice, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing.

“Oh yes, just like that.” He works you through your orgasm, not even ceasing as you slump against him. It’s only when you push his hand away from your overstimulated pussy that he ceases. Reluctantly, you move yourself off of his cock, taking him in your hand and watching with immense satisfaction as he falls apart, spilling his seed over your thighs.

You both sigh, sweat beading both your brows and the air between you hot and heavy with a mixture of your previous actions and the stale Tatooine air.

Swallowing dryly you break the silence. “Thank you.”

“Sincerely my lady, the pleasure was all mine.” He nods to the evidence of such on your thighs which raises a chuckle from you. You produce a handkerchief from a tucked-away pocket and start cleaning his cum from your thighs.

A content quite settles over the two of you as you tidy up, helping each other straighten your clothing. As you tuck Obi-Wan’s padawan braid behind his ear, the high-pitched beep of a comlink interprets the tender moment.

“Obi-Wan, are you there?” His Master’s voice sounds through the device on Obi-Wan’s belt. He gives your hand a slight squeeze as he picks up the com with the other.

“Yes Master, any luck acquiring the part for the hyperdrive?”

“I'm afraid the situation has grown more...complicated.” Obi-Wan sighs.

“Why do I sense that we’ve picked up yet another pathetic life form?” Obi-Wan casts you an apologetic glance as his master continues. Tucking your hair back into your hood, you give him a small smile and nod for him to go. With a soft smile of his own in return, he turns toward to cockpit, the comlink in his hand updating him on the situation.

With a sigh, you turn and walk back toward the quarters where you know the others will be. The dull ache of the tragic events around you was still present, but somewhat subdued thankfully. Who knew you could find so much comfort in strangers?

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