#but anakin's choices were his own and its not

[faint-taste-of-almonds]

yes there's a lot of things to criticize about Star Wars but one thing i will always love it for is being so unabashedly tragic

i'm sure it's been said before, but one of the main things i think powers the SW fandom (fics in particular) is the (in)evitability of it all

time travel fix-its are one of the most popular sub-categories of fics that i've seen (for the prequels at least) but i see it much more rarely in other fandoms. i know each fandom has their own niches that they dig into but star wars fic writers took one look at this decades long story of people who were doomed from the start and said 'not in my house bitch'

and i'm never tired of it, because there's so many places where just one different action could have changed the story entirely, but didn't

was it over the moment Palpatine succeeded in feeding Anakin's fears and his distrust toward the Jedi? the moment the Sith gained control of the senate? what about when the war started, when the Jedi were made generals of men designed to be their executioners? what about when Dooku left the order? when Qui-Gon Jinn died, leaving barely-knighted Obi Wan Kenobi to raise a child he had no idea how to care for? when the Jedi massacred the Mandalorians at Galidraan, leaving Jango Fett primed (hah) for revenge? when Palpatine, and thus the Sith, first gained influence? when the Jedi were tied to the Republic, all the way back at the Ruusan Reformation?

there are so many little moments that turn into this huge web of cause and effect when you take a step back. and in canon, these characters are dooming themselves while we watch, but what reason do they have to do anything different? they don't know they're in a tragedy - its dramatic irony at its goddamn finest

but there's this thing about decisions: for it to be a choice, there has to be another option. and our heroes make their mistakes because that's what they do, while we aren't privy to that other option, leaving that little what-if. it's a favorite human pastime, to think about what might have been.

we start at episode 4, though, fourty or so years after what you could arguably call the start, and find ourselves watching the dominoes fall in place throughout 1, 2, and 3.

and we can hate the choices, hate the tragedy, hate what happened to our beloved characters, but we knew. we had the luxury of knowing.

it's a love story, it's political intrique, it's sci-fi at its finest, and they were dead from the start.

[rose-of-red-lake]

Leslye Headland cares more about the Sith than the Jedi. I think her particular fascination is pretty undisputed at this point.

She explicitly says she wanted to write a Dark gothic romance featuring the Sith. And she got as much money as Dune 2 to do that. She got an enormous gift to tell the story she wanted. Okay. Fine. Not my cup of tea. But kudos to her for somehow collecting all those coins.

However, as a consequence of her lack of care for the Jedi, she ends up gleefully twisting them to fit her own power fantasy.

For example from the Collider interview we learned:

How the Jedi became stand-ins to attack the "institution" (of her choice, likely a religious one)

That the Jedi were used to critique patriarchy, with the Jedi master-to-padawan relationship somehow analogous to sexist father and oppressed daughter.

That Anakin murdering Tuskens and keeping it a secret inspired how Vernestra kept the Brendock scandal a secret (and that Vern is on a tragic arc too).

That she roots for Mae because the Jedi would never hold themselves accountable.

How the Jedi destroy children's worlds and how empowering it can be when, for example, they reclaim the saber that killed their parents.

How Sol and the Jedi caused Osha's loneliness.

That Sol talking about his love for Osha somehow robbed her of her agency? The agency Osha uses to join forces with the man who kidnapped her, killed her friends, and tried to kill her sister the previous day.

How she's using Senator Rayencourt as the voice of reason, and an audience stand-in, who asks "legitimate" questions about the Jedi having too much power.

That the Jedi have become cluelessly unaware of how they are perceived or that they could do wrong, because they've relied too long on their high status.

How the Jedi have always been "extremely flawed" (from the GQ interview)

A lot of this is not just divisive or cynical. It's creepy?

Headland wanted a dark Jane Austin romance featuring the villains in Star Wars - okay fine. I still think it could have been done without burning her Jedi Barbies to create new canon. I mean...its just brutal.

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[laylaplease]

WARNINGS — Anakin × Fem!Reader, Dom!Anakin × Sub!Reader, ovulation, masturbation, breeding kink, pet names (love, baby), verbal degradation, humiliation, swearing (fuck, slut, cockslut, bitch), oral sex (m), fingering (f), pain kink, impact play (face slapping), manhandling, brief dacryphilia, brief dub-con, drooling, mentions of cum, clit play, creampie.

WORDS — 2.3k

Imagining Anakin with your own fingers rubbing onto your clit was a nightmare. It was agonizing torture to experience pleasure that was nowhere close to the feeling of his nine-inch cock rubbing against your cervix. Especially now that the moon has shifted and your womb is pulsing with the need for his seed.

Anakin has quite literally ruined you and your body, molded it into its own personal plaything that couldn’t get satisfaction without him. His touch was a remedy for everything —fear, anger, sadness — but it was especially skilled at calming your need to be fucked dumb.

Haunted by the inability to get yourself off and get rid of ovulation cravings in the process, you make your way to Anakin’s home office, where he’s been studying some dull Jedi scrips you had no interest in. The room was dimly lit by a single torchiere, which left a soft cast of light on Anakin’s scrumptious body. Peeking through the partially opened door that he’s purposely left for you, watching the soft frown between his eyebrows and the way his exposed forearms tensed while flipping the papers, you didn’t even notice how your hand slipped past your panties again. The absurdity of the situation was what made your walls clench extra tightly around your amateur digit — so desperate, you had no other choice but to secretly watch your own boyfriend.

Your head partially pressed against the doorframe, one eye peaking and savoring Anakin while your finger messily maneuvered around your clit, you couldn’t believe Anakin was still oblivious to your deed. Especially when your wetness has long ago seeped past your underwear and is now making a pathetic sloshing sound, which only fuels your desire.

“Come here, love.” Anakin’s voice drags you out of your fantasies; he pats his thigh, calling you as if you were a dog. If your hand wasn’t glued to your pussy, you would definitely follow the command instantly.

Even with your brain dumbified by all the hormones, it was quite easy to realize that Anakin indeed had it all figured about your activities. His nonchalant behavior, however, was surprising and not decipherable for your little head.

“Come on, hands off yourself and come, I won’t ask again."

This time, you move. Wiping the remains of yourself on the back of your skirt, you follow the soft light inside the room and display yourself in front of Anakin with pouted lips and a suspicious gleam in your eyes.

Anakin slides the papers aside and turns his chair to face you. Familiar heavy stare of desire filling you with the feeling of inferiority, even if he’s the one sitting below your eye level. He remains mute as he reaches out to dig his fingers into the supple flesh of your thighs.

“Wanna tell me why you’ve been humping every corner of the house the whole fucking day?” He asks as he slides his warm hand across your skin, brushing the very bottom of your ass with his fingertips.

“I’m just—”

“A bitch in heat.” He cuts you off, grabbing your butt-cheek at the same time as the sharp words sting your dignity. “Say it.”

Before you can open your mouth again, his fingers slip past the crotch of your panties, hooking under it and pulling it aside, allowing two metal digits to slide past the brim of your wetness as his other hand is welcomed under your skirt.

“I’m a—AH!” Your knees buck when the cold edges scratch at your walls; not even your pooling arousal relieves the bittersweet tingle.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with a voice of mock pity. “Needy cunt shuts you up, mmm? Can’t speak unless I fuck my cum in you?” His fingers move at a slow but forceful pace, each powerful stroke making you trip over your words.

“A-A-Ani-i-i s-stop!” You grab at his wrist, trying to pause the movement, which only encourages him to create a more agonizing pace.

“What was that? Harder?” He slaps your hand off his, intensifying the pumping into your hole. Creamy juice drips down his wrist as he’s tearing at your insides with an insensitive, artificial touch. And all you’re capable of is whimpering and letting him satisfy his sadistic needs.

Your eyes are clouded with tears of pleasure, yet the limited sight allows you to see the tightness of his pants, covering his hardening shaft from your view. You can’t help but create a mental image, replacing the mechno-fingers with his nine-incher. That’s when your sore pussy finally starts clenching down around him, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

When Anakin frees his hand out of your grasp, there is no other response than whimpering at the loss of delight between your legs. He doesn’t acknowledge your desperation. Raising his hips up slightly, he frees himself off his pants, letting them sit midway his thighs. Following the hint, you try to make your way on top of him, climbing into his lap while pushing your skirt up — ready to receive the reward you’ve been craving since eight in the morning.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks, looking at you with his eyebrows slightly up, an expression of mockery.

You bite your lip, surprised by the sudden change of events. Your eyes bore into his, looking for a sign to proceed before your pussy grows cold.

Anakin smiles at you, seemingly holding in a small chuckle. His hand reaches back for your cunt, but instead of entertaining it further, he gently pats you twice. “Get on your knees.”

Frustrated, you slide your knee off the chair, standing back up between his now spread legs. You give him a needy stare, speechlessly begging for mercy.

“I know that look, baby.” He finally speaks, his fist wrapping around his length to smear the precum over the sensitive skin. “Unfortunately, little sluts don’t get their wombs used, get down." He points to the floor. Hypnotized by the way his hand squeezed the swollen tip with each stroke, you lower yourself.

Wasting no time, Anakin’s hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his crotch. Your lips settle at the base under his cock, resting it across your face as you stare at him, glossy eyes blinking in a silent plea. He strokes your hair, admiring the view.

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” The grip tightens, making sure you are locked in a humiliating position.

Without receiving an answer, Anakin guides himself past your lips, sliding in slowly as your throat and walls pulse in unity, one at the stretch and the other at the lack of it. He lets out a satisfied groan as the warmth of your mouth surrounds his painfully swollen dick.

“Fuuuck, what a tight little hole—” He curses, eyes staring up as his eyebrows furrow slightly. If you hadn’t been so depraved of him fucking you properly, you would have enjoyed the sight of his pleasure.

He doesn’t bother to use his hips as his hand guides your head up and down his length, each stroke appearing to be impossibly deeper than the earlier. Suffocating from the tears and salty precum spilling all over you, there is no other choice but to claw at his thighs as you try not to pass out from the intense feeling of your throat being stretched out and adjusted to the size of him.

“You’re fine, take it.” He groans, not switching the pace. He glances down at you, chest rising and falling as he uses you to his heart’s content. The sight of you drooling all over his dick without having a say in it made him feel like a god. He owned you.

Feeling him twitching inside you, you sense the end of your torture is near. As you brace yourself to receive his load, Anakin suddenly slides all the way out.

While your body greedily gasps for air, he tugs on your hair, making your head bend backwards without any remorse for your fucked-out state. His hand reaches up to slap across your cheek, grounding you.

“Now let’s try again. What are you?” He speaks, the same harsh tone making it obvious that he’s not a bit disturbed by his ruined orgasm.

Sniffling the tears away, your lips struggle between his fingers. “I’m a b-bitch in heat—” Your stuttering earns you another slap, followed by the return of the harsh grip.

“Again.” He says, lips in thin line, as he waits for your obedience.

“A bitch in heat!” You repeat it more clearly, trying to satisfy him by fighting the need to cough. Another slap is delivered to the same cheek, this time making you twitch and hiss in pain.

“Yeah? That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Anakin takes more pleasure in abusing your cheek, each strike forcing you to gasp and sob as your head rested inches away from his still throbbing cock. “Stupid cockslut, each month the same thing, your needy cunt begging for cum, need to breed so bad, hm? Say it again.”

“I’m a bitch in heat!” You say loudly, trying to make him stop and finally give you what you actually need.

Anakin seems to be snapped out of his trance by how loud and desperate your voice was. His hands grip your wrists, pulling you up to your feet. He doesn’t speak as he turns you around, bending you over his desk. Rough hand at your neck, pushing your face into the long-forgotten documents, which will soon be stained by your drool and tears.

He yanks your skirt and underwear down with one tug, his own pants sliding a bit lower in the process, allowing him more freedom of movement. Not waiting for your whines, he stuffs your pussy full, thick length splitting you open, fitting perfectly between your soft heat. Anakin’s instantly covered in your arousal, juices wrapping around him, making it easier to slip back inside with each sharp thrust.

“'S what you wanted, huh?” His hands grab your hips, raising you so your legs dangle while he ravages your hole. “What do you say? Let’s shut this tight cunt up for the next nine months.”

Anakin’s words made you spasm rapidly around him. Your body, determined to get knocked up, didn’t even bother to consider what your non-hormonal brain thinks about it, so when he asked the question, you couldn’t help but cry multiple begs about how you need to be filled up. You’ll worry about it later.

“Yeah? Say it again: What was that you wanted me to do to you?” He pounds away his pent-up frustration as you gather enough strength to speak through the quivering of your whole body.

“Ani, please! Need you to— ah! Come inside—!”

Hearing your trembling voice begging to be fucked full, his hips slap against your butt-cheeks with greater force. You feel Anakin’s chest press against your back, the warmth of his skin easing the way your insides bruised in the shape of each vein on his shaft. His moans and grunts of pleasure go straight into your ear in a new-found position. The room is full of lewdness: a wooden floor stained with love juices and spit, desk scratching the wall with each pump of Anakin’s cock, your pussy sloshing around it, struggling to accommodate his size comfortably but taking every inch without a whimper of displeasure.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck— S’ like that, take it, fucking slut!” He swears, grunts mixing with whimpers. The more he curses, the messier and more out of order his thrust becomes, signaling his inevitable release.

His hands snake around you. One finds his way to your clit and instantly begins rubbing it messily, causing your whole body to shake violently. His other arm reaches all the way across your chest to grab on your shoulder from under you, making sure you’re pressed nice and tightly against him with no chance of slipping off his cock until he’s fucked you full of cum.

“Aaaani, don’t stop—!” You beg when the tingle at the very bottom of your tummy seems to be unknotting slowly. Your hands reach to hold onto the one that’s squeezing your shoulder.

“Gonna cum, fuck, fill this pussy up, yeah? Want my cum baby? Yeahhh— Gon’ breed you properly—”

With the last strength left in his body, he proceeds to piston short and hard strokes into you while his fingers work furiously over your clit to bring you to your own pleasure. Anakin’s fingers dig into your skin, forehead leans tightly against the back of your head, his deep groans are mixing with desperate whimpers as his pleasure is reaching its peak.

“C’mon baby, don’t stop squeezing me, that’s it— fUCK, yeah— Baby—!” 

With the last deep moan against your skin, you feel hot ropes of cum shooting all the way inside you, tainting your spongy walls with white. Your own orgasm follows when you feel his cock spasming with release. Curling your toes, your whole lower body trembles against him, unraveling the intense feeling of pleasure deep between your folds. Anakin’s fingers dedicatedly abuse your sweet bundle of nerves until your shaking subsides completely and you grow limp on top of the desk, your feet finally lowering to the ground.

Anakin lays on top of you, still holding you tightly against his chest to prevent your weakened body from sliding down to the floor. Still deep inside you, his entire weight squeezes you in a protective embrace while he’s slowly going soft, basking in the mix of your and his cum. When both of your heavy breathing seem to finally cease, his lips press against the back of your shoulder with a deep sigh.

“Think I fucked the slut out of your cunt for good?”

[starlazergazer]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Combining two very similar requests! The overall summary is that the reader finds out she’s pregnant and out of fear leaves the republic (quickly becoming the empire) without Anakin knowing. Anakin tracks down the reader years later and leaves everything behind to live happily ever after with the reader and their child.

Warnings: Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 4K

A/N: Hey guys its been a while! She’s a little short but she’s got some good angst and some cute moments so I really hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t proud to admit that you didn’t see it coming.

The warning signs were all there, and in hindsight you can’t believe you had missed them. But no, not missed, for every time there was a new announcement about the condensation of power you felt your stomach drop, felt the voice in the back of your head whisper that this wasn’t right, you never missed a single warning sign, it was even worse than that. You ignored them.

Because you knew chancellor Palpatine, he was a nice old man, offering his wisdom to younger senators such as yourself, he wanted what was best for the republic same as you.

You thought you knew Anakin too.

But you did know Anakin, you wanted to argue, he was passionate, emotional, funny, someone looking only to do right in the world by those he loved. You just thought you were one of those people.

And maybe you were, maybe this were some big misunderstanding, maybe there were forces at play here you couldn’t see that changed things. Maybe you could be the one to make those changes.

In another life you’d stick around and see.

Not this time. A hand ghosting across your stomach, staring down at an empty suitcase. Circumstances have changed and you couldn’t afford to chance it.

But even as you stood in you room amongst the ruins of the republic you had fought so hard to build, all that echoed in your mind was Anakin’s last words “I’ll find you later I promise” spoken in that tone of voice that had you smiling no matter what. Even as he pulled away, even as he interrupted the most important surprise of your life you couldn’t help but smile back at him, watching his own lips quirk up in response.

How could so much have changed in such little time.

A knock at the front door knocked you out of your stupor, a spring in your step as you rushed out of the bedroom just in time to see Anakin walking into the living room.

And you were amazed at how he looked exactly the same, how your whole world came crashing down and Anakin was still Anakin, looking at you with so much love and worry in his eyes it made your chest ache.

He was across the room before you could even comprehend his movement, his arms wrapping tightly around you not even noticing that you never raised yours to do the same.

It would have been far too easy to melt into the hug, to reach up and cover his hands with your own as he stepped back and cupped each cheek, to ignore the new yellow tint in his eyes as he scanned your body frantically asking if you were hurt.

But your choice here wasn’t just your own anymore, and if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that whoever this child came to be deserved more than what the empire offered.

It took you a second to find your voice, a second to push his hands off your cheeks, to take a step back from him, offering a small I’m okay that he clearly didn’t believe before you fully collected yourself “it’s just a lot to take in ya know?”

And there was a small sigh of relief that racked through him, before he took up your hand, giving it an experimental squeeze, as if afraid you were going to reject him “I know but really all that’s changed is the title, the senate still exists, you still have the same job, emperor Palpatine is just doing his best to protect people”

And you wondered if he really believed that, if he thought that the senate mattered in any way but a  symbolic one at this point, that Palpatine was still prepared to just give back his power when he deemed it was best. Anakin was many things but never naive.

A bitter part of you noted how easily the change to Palpatine’s title came to him.

“Of course” you tried to assure him with your best smile, an awkward hand coming up and patting his “I’m still a senator”

He seemed to relax slightly at this, his posture slouching ever so slightly as his smile grew easier, crinkling the edges of his eyes just a little more now than it did before.

“What about you are you okay?” The question held more weight than he could possibly realize.

“I’m good” he sighed out, leading you softly over to the couch “the jedi order, the republic, all of it wasn’t working, hadn’t for some time and emperor Palpatine changed that. I really think it’s for the better”

And you weren’t sure whether it would’ve been worse if he had told you he was being forced into the whole thing. If you would rather he had somehow been blackmailed into his new role or if he truly believed in the empire, choosing instead to dismantle all that you devoted your life to of his own volition.

“Good” you nearly choked on the word as it came out, your forced smile starting to ache in your cheeks as you fought to keep it on “I’m glad”

He smiled warmly back at you and in that moment he looked too much like the Anakin you knew, the man you’d shared many stolen moments with in closets and empty rooms, the man you wanted more than anything in that moment to just come home to.

“Anyway there was something important you wanted to tell me” he prompted softly, turning softly into you, encapsulating both your hands in his with a soft squeeze.

And your mind jumped immediately to the test hidden in your luggage in the bedroom at that very moment, to the moment you had pulled him into the nearest closet just before everything went down, to the excitement you had felt in that moment and carried with you even as he told you he had to go, that you could tell him later. Only for later to never come.

Your mouth dropped open slightly, an amalgamation of words tumbling around inside you with no real idea which would spring forth first. A part of you wondered what would happen if you told him. Would he give it all up? Run away with you? Become the fantastic father you knew he would be away from the sway of the empire, from Palpatine?

But you knew better.

“Oh it was nothing” you shook him off “can hardly remember it now”

He studied you carefully, mistrust evident in every feature on his face. Instead of objecting, however, he just brought a hand up to softly cup your cheek.

And oh how you hated how quickly your body reacted, leaning into the touch softly, your eyes fluttering closed before you could stop them.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His words were soft but you could hear the earnestness in them, the slight beg for you to let him in.

“Yeah I know” you opted for a half truth, never that good at denying him anything, knowing that in any other circumstance you wouldn’t have even hesitated, hell before all of this you were excited to tell him.

But circumstances change, people changed, you just wished that he had picked a path you could follow down.

“I’m just feeling a little tired, I think I’m going to lay down for a nap” you shrugged off his hand softly, pulling yourself back from picking it up with your own, forcing yourself to drop his other one, to push yourself up off the couch, to take a step back, to put that first bit of distance between the two of you.

And you could see him recoil slightly at the sudden declaration, at your sudden dismissal of him, a brief moments shock spent frozen on the couch before he pushed himself up with a dejected nod, a soft hesitant voice you hardly recognized as Anakin’s coming from him “yeah of course, just let me know if you need anything okay?”

For a moment your mind was captured by thoughts of what could have been, Anakin taking care of you through bouts of morning sickness, bringing you packages of whatever pregnancy cravings you had in the middle of the night, rubbing your swollen feet while you talked lazily on the couch. It felt unfair that a person could mourn something that would never come to pass.

“I will, thanks Ani”

And despite the tension in the air you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up at the familiar nickname. He gave a small nod before backing away and heading for the door, his hand coming up to the panel and hovering over its surface, a brief moment spent frozen before he spoke, calling out your name and spinning around to find you.

But he didn’t need to look far, you hadn’t moved from your spot as you watched him go.

“I love you”

And it would’ve been so much easier if he hadn’t have said that, if some part of you could’ve been able to push his feelings over all of this to the back of your mind, if you had been left to believe that on some level he would be okay if you left him.

“I love you too Ani” and even worse you meant it

-

“So this is why you ran?” the familiar voice broke you from your thoughts as you stared forward at the busy playground but didn’t necessarily surprise you, it was after all a voice you had been waiting to here again after too many years.

A million reactions to that voice ran through your head all at once, each one completely contradicting the one before. Run away, embrace him, hide your daughter, introduce him to her. So instead you stayed frozen in place, your gaze locked on the colorful jungle gym before you.

“I decided she deserved a better life than what the empire could give her” Still you refused to look at him, refused to put a face to that comforting voice you had always been inexplicably drawn to. Instead you focused on keeping your head held high, to stave off any guilt that threatened to leach into your tone. You couldn’t afford to look weak over this decision not now.

“she?” but god that little tremble in his voice nearly broke you, every doubt you had over the years amplified by a minor change in pitch. It was precisely why you had left in the first place, and here he was again threatening to pull you back in all over again.

You cleared your throat softly, gesturing across the playground vaguely with your head “bright pink coat, attempting to climb the monkey bars”

A shaky exhale sounded from beside you, a slight shift as he scooted closer but you weren’t sure whether you liked the feeling or hated it. “she looks just like you” The smile you could hear in his voice, however, that you relished.

“She’s got your eyes” you responded softly, laughing quietly as you watched her run and jump off the platform in an attempt to get high enough to reach the first rung “and your reckless relationship with danger”

You felt Anakin go tense beside you the minute her shoes left the ground, watching as she sailed missing the bar by mere inches and tumbling to the ground. Your hand came out to his elbow the minute you felt his weight shift as he got ready to go help her, freezing the two of you in place as you watched her pick herself up and dust herself off before abandoning her quest for the monkey bars and taking off for the swings.

“Tough kid” Anakin laughed almost in disbelief, watching her shake off the fall as if it were nothing.

“taught her early on if she was going to make stupid decisions she better be prepared to deal with the consequences”

A tense silence fell over the two of you at your words. It only occurring to you then that you still had your hand on his arm, pulling it back quickly, acting as if it were nothing, as if your fingers weren’t aching to reach out to him again.

“You know I was high up in the empire” he broke the silence with heavy words, inlaid with more depth than he probably meant “I could’ve given her a good life”

You shook your head at his words, eyes never leaving your daughters form as she started to swing, blissfully unaware of who had just shown up “there was a time I would’ve believed that” you responded honestly with a sigh “but after everything the empire has done, after seeing what is has become, I know I made the right call”

“the schools I could get her into, the house I could provide-“ Anakin pushed on only making your lip tremble slightly, your eyes closing as you let out a shaky beath, cutting him off.

“stop Ani” and the two of your froze at the nickname, the way it slipped out too easily from your lips, how much you liked the sound of it “the empire destroyed everything I fought for in an instant. It overthrew a democracy I devoted my life to in favor of a dictatorship, it killed millions of people I gave my life to serve as their representative, it took everything from me including you” and finally you turned to face him, not at all surprised to see familiar blue eyes already staring down at you, each feature swimming through an ocean of emotions he wasn’t quite sure which to land on. “I wasn’t going to let them take her too”

You each took a moment, eyes bouncing back and forth between one another’s, you taking a moment to take in a face that somehow looked the exact same as it had years ago and yet changed so much.

Still he shook his head softly, eyes casting back out to the playground before him “I would’ve come with you”

And you’d spent too much time pondering that same question to just let it slide “you wouldn’t have”

Anakin’s head snapped back to yours, eyebrows drawing in in confusion and hurt “You think I would’ve chosen anything else over you? Over her?” he gestured over to the swings, your daughter kicking her feet to climb higher and higher into the air.

“I think you would’ve tried to talk me into staying, and I was afraid I was too weak to say no” you answered honestly, watching as he shook his head again clearly not liking that as an answer “and I think even if you had wanted to come with me they wouldn’t have let you” that gave him pause, his brows furrowing slightly at your words, silently prompting you to continue “you were the emperors right hand man, the one set to inherit everything. They weren’t going to let you go that easily”

“I was in too deep, so you just gave up on us” he paused for a second, a deep breath running through him before he continued “gave up on me”

Immediately you were scooching yourself closer to him, thigh coming to rest right along his as you took one hand in yours, using it to pull his attention back to you. “If circumstances were different” you began slowly, blindly searching for the right words for the feeling you had never been able to let go of “I would’ve stayed with you. No question, no hesitation, I would always choose you.” And you gave those words a second to sink in, hoping more than anything that he would believe you on that much, “But now I have her to think about” you nodded vaguely in your daughters direction, Anakin’s gaze briefly following yours before snapping quickly back to your figure, his hand squeezing yours just a little tighter “At that time that meant getting her out of there by whatever means necessary”

“And now?” he asked quietly, eyes practically begging you for an answer

“Darth vader has no place in our family” you answered solemnly, giving the statement a moments pause to cement it “however, Anakin Skywalker always has a place at our table”

You could see his face start to break out into a smile but your attention was pulled away too quickly by a familiar voice shouting “mommy” before a weight was pushed onto your lap as your daughter buried her head into your chest, not bothering to slow down from her dead sprint before she jumped onto your lap.

You gave a dramatic “oof” that had her giggling as she brought her gaze up to meet yours, a wide smile on her face as she started to talk “did you see how high I went on the swings mommy? Did you see me go?”

Her excited fast talking pulled an easy smile to your cheeks as your voice got higher slightly, nodding eagerly along with her “I did see you went sooooo high you’re such a brave little girl”

“I’m not that little” she protested with a giggle and a dramatic roll of her eyes, her gaze cutting briefly to Anakin’s form next to you, the question of who this man was clearly bubbling beneath the surface, nothing but her own shyness keeping it at bay.

“Come here” you said softly, twirling her around so she sat in your lap with her back against your chest, her head tucked perfectly just beneath your chin “do you remember all those stories I tell you about the super cool Jedi?”

“Obi-wan?” she asked innocently and you couldn’t help but laugh, if nothing else the girl’s comedic timing was on point.

“no the other one, the one that worked to bring balance to the force?”

“Daddy?” she asked eagerly and you heard a breath escape from Anakin, a quick glance up to him showed that his eyes were glued to the little girl in your lap.

“That’s right” you assured her with a smile growing more strained by the second, a tightness in your chest growing as you knew what her next question would be.

She looked over at Anakin curiously, not quite shying away from him but keeping her distance from her spot in your lap, choosing instead to carefully study the man before her. “Is he going to come live with us now?”

Your eyes jumped up to Anakin’s as he tore his gaze from the girl in your lap, an expression on his face that seemed to ask you the same question.

“I don’t know sweetheart” you began hesitantly “I think Daddy’s got some things he needs to figure out before-“

“Yes” Anakin cut you off before you could finish, making your eyebrows shoot up at him, your eyes silently asking him if he was sure, if he knew what he was agreeing to right now, if he was really prepared for a step like that.

Instead his gaze broke back down to his daughter, a small smile growing on his face as he stooped slightly as he spoke “that is if it’s okay with you?”

“mmmm” you daughter hummed loudly, clearly missing the desperation in Anakin’s expression as she held him on the edge of his seat, pondering the question carefully before asking “are you a good swing pusher?”

A strained, relieved chuckle from his lips at her question, an eager answer following it quickly “I’m an excellent swing pusher”

“Then as long as it’s okay with mommy” she declared simply, Anakin’s eyes breaking once again up to meet yours, a single question held within them.

And looking into his eyes you thought of the person he had become after the republic fell, the person you felt you had to flee in order to raise your daughter in a safe environment, the person that became the very thing you’d once worked to destroy.

But looking at him all you saw was your Anakin. The man who had only ever tried to do what he thought was best, the man who would lay down his life with no hesitation to protect you, the man who ever since meeting her had been hanging off your daughters every word. Five minutes in and she already had him wrapped around her little finger.

“What about your job” you asked him, your expression holding more meaning than your actual words “back on Coruscant”

“I’m done with that” he answered immediately, inching closer to the two of you “no one knows I’m here”

“Are you sure” you asked him slowly, a million tiny expansions on that question flowing silently through you. Are you sure that you’re done with the empire, that no one will come looking for you, that this is really what you want?

“I’ve never been more sure of anything” he answered softly, eyes never breaking contact with yours as he said it.

And you let that answer hang In the air for a moment, searching his expression for any sign of doubt but ultimately finding none. You opened your mouth to speak when you daughter decided to break the silence for you, grabbing Anakin by the hand she hopped off your lap and started to drag him towards the playground. “Good you can come push me on the swings now”

And you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him follow her eagerly, a grin on his face you hadn’t realized how bad you had missed seeing as he helped her into the seat, starting to push her almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid she would fall off.

So true to form your daughter demanded higher, eliciting a hearty laugh from the former jedi you could hear from across the playground, bringing a soft smile to your face as you watched the two of them, whispering softly to yourself “welcome home Ani”

[im-poe-dameron]

THE ROCKROSE AND THE THISTLE

➛ THE BEGINNING

a/n: originally this fic was a one shot. except it became too long to keep it as one part so it's split into two. this is honestly me obsessing over the idea of anakin remaining anakin while being a sith. no armor, no mask, just him with yellow eyes. so i ran with it and turned it as angsty as possible.

summary: after the galatic republic fell to its knees, whispers of anakin skywalker begin to surface. claims that he was no longer the hero they once knew, but a darkness they came to fear. darth vader. yet when he begins to call to you in dreams, you make a choice that might kill you in the end. you choose…to save him.

OR old friends meet now as enemies.

word count: 4.5k+

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader; darth vader x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, so much of it that it's insane, the hunger for what once was, anakin being evil, dark dreams, talk of death, trauma, fluff, padwan!anakin, soft romance, hopes being tarnished.

THE END | FIC MASTERLIST

His laughter stuck to your skin like a cold sweated fever that refused to pass. It edged its way towards your heart, breaking open your ribs and settling right underneath them. You gasped for air, the heat of the planet seeping into your already bare body with every passing second, and if you weren’t careful it might kill you. Choke you while you slept and continued to dream of the one person you couldn’t save—even if it wasn’t your job to do so.

“C’mon Bandit, that's the best you can do?”

You could see him, a smile on face as he danced around you—the assuredness in his stance and ease in his nature did nothing but make your heart twist violently. The both of you were so young. So innocent and naive; holding beliefs that the galaxy wasn’t as cruel as the Jedi Masters made it out to be. It was a hope that you held more than he did. A reminder in the back of your head that you hadn’t chosen to become this without knowing the consequences. After all, what was light without the darkness that crept around in the shadows, waiting for a chance to strike.

How oblivious were you to what was truly going on with him? How could you not see it? The turmoil behind those blue eyes of his, the pain that laced his voice with every word he spoke to you.

“Anakin,” you breathed, your hand clutching at the sheets that were tossed over your body.

“Well don’t just stand there padawan,” he called out as you were pulled once more into a dream you did your best to fight against.

Twisting your body away from the close swipe of his lightsaber, you felt the heat of the blade brush past your cheek. Master Obi-Wan had said you weren’t yet allowed to fight like this, but Anakin always did like to break the rules. Even if it meant getting hurt. Yanking your own lightsaber off the belt it hung loosely from, you pressed the switch—feeling and hearing the familiar thrum of it as it came to life.

“Last time I checked we’re both padawans Skywalker!” You dodged his move, nearly landing into the bushes that lined the edges of the training courtyard.

He shrugged. “Yeah, but in terms of training, I’m definitely ahead of you.”

Scoffing, you leapt forward, swinging the lightsaber towards his leg. He stepped out of the way, attempting to avoid being sliced open but your other leg got beneath his sturdy one, swiping it out from underneath him and causing him to topple to the ground. He fell with a groan of pain—his lightsaber landing a few feet away, now turned off. Anakin’s eyes went wide as you brought your green blade down until it was directly in front of his nose—nearly singing the hair off his face.

“You were saying?”

“What are you two doing?” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed off the walls, startling you from where you stood above Anakin. “I thought I told the both of you that training alone was off limits until you were ready.”

“Master—” Anakin began, his hand reaching out for something—eyes flashing up to see the panicked expression on your face.

“We were just—”

Obi-Wan raising his hand stopped you in your tracks, the all too familiar sigh leaving his lips as he walked towards you. Shifting your footing, you moved to give Anakin space to get up, but didn’t expect his lightsaber to fly through the air, nearly hitting you in the shoulder. He jumped up—a joyous cry of victory echoing around you as he swung his lightsaber towards you, the blue glow of his blade heading towards you.

Switching yours on with a swiftness neither of you knew you possessed, you managed to block his attack—the clashing of the two colors flashing before your eyes. Obi-Wan’s pleas for the both of you to cease whatever this was were suddenly drowned out as you glanced up—a smile on your face.

Expecting to see the friendly blue eyes you’d grown attached to, you felt a shock go through your system as you were met with a glowing yellow. The green of your blade was striking against the red of the lightsaber he held—his teeth bared in a snarl. Dropping your weapon, you stumbled back as he advanced, a cry of his name leaving your mouth. No longer were you friendly sparring with a boy you’d known as long as you’d been alive, but instead you now faced the man who had been twisted up inside—the man you couldn’t save.

“Anakin!” you shouted, hitting the cold ground beneath you.

Gasping sharply, you shot up in the makeshift bed you had on the rocky floor of what looked to be a cave. A ragged sob left you as you scrambled to gather the sheets around your body, tears streaming down your face while the memories of your dream played on repeat in your mind. Anakin’s face—the jagged scar running down his face, the sinister yellow eyes, the absolute fury in his expression—left you shaking. That was not the boy you had known, but a mere fragmented piece of him that still lived in your mind.

It took you a few minutes to remember where exactly you were and how you got there. But eventually you were able to recall landing on Tatooine, the call from Obi-Wan through the Force coming in loud and clear as you meditated on your ship. For years you’d been traveling from planet to planet. Hiding wherever you could and searching for any Jedi that might still be alive. You knew it was a small possibility, but you couldn’t ignore the tug in your gut at the idea.

So far you counted three. Obi-Wan, a boy from Bracca that recognized you when you hid on the planet, and Ahsoka Tano. The hunt for more put you in a state of constant weariness. With every Jedi you found dead, you continued to feel the break in your connection to the Force. The pain you suffered now brought you to the very edge of giving up entirely.

What use was being a Jedi if you had no one to protect but yourself?

You couldn’t even recall the image of your master’s face anymore, let alone remember what it felt like when peace lived within the galaxy. Now you were constantly looking over your shoulder. The fear of being found, always leaving you teetering on the edge of panic.

Exhaling out a stuttered breath, you heard your name called from the other side of the cave as Obi-Wan was roused from his own sleep. The twin suns were starting to rise in the distance—light breaking through the darkness within the rocks and you felt some sense of peace fill your lungs. For now you would push the nightmare aside and focus on the present. There was no use remaining in the past—in things you couldn’t change.

No matter how much you wished you could.

“Is everything alright?” Obi-Wan asked, his bare feet coming into your line of sight as he shuffled closer.

You nodded, the sweat sticking to the back of your neck. “Yeah I just…I had a nightmare.”

He sat beside you on the floor, offering you a small canteen filled with water, which you took gratefully. “About Anakin?”

Simply hearing his name brought the fire back into your chest, the pain that ran through your body returning with enough force to have you shrinking in on yourself. You only knew Anakin as a friend; had seen him one last time when he entered the Jedi Temple before you managed to escape and drag a few younglings with you. But Obi-Wan knew him like a brother. They were closer than you could have even imagined and while you sat there fighting back the pain—he’d already gone numb because of it.

There was speculation that he died on Mustafar. That Obi-Wan had delivered the final blow—put what once was his apprentice out of the agonizing misery he left him in. But you now knew otherwise. After all the whispers of sightings grew—claims that they’d seen the once heroic Anakin Skywalker destroying planets, killing innocent people—reached your ears. Until you had no choice but to let him in—find him through the one final connection you still had yet to cut off.

“I know where he is,” you muttered, staring at the light dusting of sunlight that covered the floor.

Obi-Wan turned quickly towards you. “What?” You nodded, tracing the cave’s entrance with your eyes. “Where?”

“Right where you left him,” you breathed. “I suppose Palpatine thought he was being funny by remaining on Mustafar.”

“He’s—” Obi-Wan let out a breath, looking down at his hands. You felt grief flicker through the Force—dark and muted. A stark contrast to his usual cerulean blue. “Did you see him?”

“That’s the awful part Obi-Wan,” you said, the tears streaming freely down your face. Or perhaps you hadn’t stopped crying in the first place. You could no longer tell. “He called to me…like you did, placing memories in my head of our past together. And—then I saw his face and his—his eyes are…” Trailing off you wiped roughly at your cheeks. “He’s no longer Anakin.”

“He called to you,” Obi-Wan murmured.

At first when the dreams started, you couldn’t tell if you were finally losing it or if your mind truly held a twisted sense of humor. Playing back every happy memory you shared with Anakin. Every daring adventure you both took together and more often than you would have liked, the kiss you shared in the middle of Tatooine—the night his mother died. It was a past you wished to forget and yet it was seemingly forced upon you night after night.

“Why?” You shut your eyes, once again seeing his yellow eyes flash in your mind. “What does he want with me?”

Obi-Wan stood, turning his back to give you a chance to dress yourself. “He may not even realize he’s calling out to you.”

Shoving your tunic back on, you tied it around your waist, your boots going on next. With the heat that spread around Tatooine you regretted showing up in the black clothing you wore, but they were all you owned. The black cloak you’d been wrapped in reminded you of the man you tried so hard to forget about. After all, it was his to begin with.

One freezing night on Ilum—a mission to get him a new kyber crystal after he destroyed his lightsaber—led to him handing over his cloak. In a foolish turn of events, you forgot yours on the ship and Anakin didn’t want to return back to Obi-Wan with you half frozen to death. You could recall the way he’d wrapped it around the both of you, his arms tight on your waist as you hid in the caverns of the planet. What you thought would be simply another mission, wound up being far more than you expected. 

You realized the depth of your love for him in the perils of a planet that would end you without mercy. The irony wasn’t lost to you. Trapped in a place that felt like your fury of emotions—the danger of what you harbored like a fugitive.

Sure, you’d shared your fair share of emotions with him, kissing here and there, but nothing progressed further than that. His heart had always belonged to another. And you accepted it without question.

“He’s dreaming,” you whispered, picking up your lightsaber and clipping it to your belt.

“His mind may not yet be settled completely in the dark side of the Force. It would betray him in dreams.”

“But why me? Why not you?” They held a closer bond and Anakin would surely call for his former master before he called for the girl he once entertained the idea of feelings with.

“You represent a time in his life when he was happy.”

“So do you. So why does he—”

“I left him half alive on Mustafar. Padme is dead,” Obi-Wan stated monotonically as if he were reading it from a book. “His mind wouldn’t turn to memories of a woman he could no longer reach. If anything that would only push him further into the dark side.”

You sighed, the pain in your head now spreading down to your neck. “Unless he’s trying to figure out where his children are.”

“No, he doesn’t know they’re alive.”

Letting out a breath, you tried to focus on the small inkling of light that came through the Force. Your last attachment to it suddenly become your life line every night you fell asleep; the pain of reliving your past was so grueling it became torture in its own way. You felt the familiar press of Obi-Wan’s energy against the back of your mind as he gently asked for permission to see what you saw. To relive the memories with you.

“You won’t like what you find in there,” you muttered, slipping on the cloak that somehow still carried fragments of Anakin in the fabric.

“Perhaps not, but nonetheless Bandit.” Flinching at the nickname bestowed upon you by Anakin himself, you relented and allowed your walls to collapse to the ground beneath you.

None of it mattered anymore. Not the love you felt for him or the anguish you endured when he fell for someone else, because he wasn’t Anakin anymore. He merely wore the face of a man you thought you knew once upon a time—a memory that refused to die.

“Just remain still,” Obi-Wan said, watching as you returned back to where you were sitting, your legs crossed and eyes falling shut. “This won’t hurt.”

You both knew it was a lie, but you didn’t care much at that point. He’d already delved past your walls and was now digging through your memories, yanking up each one that Anakin had placed there. Inhaling sharply you dug your nails into your clothed thighs as he pulled up one that proved you and Anakin both went against the Jedi Code at least once in your life.

Once again his laughter filled your mind, splintering your heart in two.

“Tell me Bandit,” Anakin leapt over a rock in the middle of a river, his boots splashing water everywhere. “Why didn’t you want to come here?”

You sighed, picking up a stone and tossing it—watching with satisfaction as it floated in the air for a second. Courtesy of Anakin attempting to show off his powers.

You were sent to Kashyyyk as a part of the Jedi's diplomatic training for padawan, but halfway through Master Yoda told the both of you to stand guard near the camps. Which led to Anakin and you residing in the middle of a river, watching as birds flew overhead. The sounds of the forest around you breathed life into your lungs.

“I can’t help it if my master thinks I need diplomatic training,” you replied, emphasizing the word diplomatic with a roll of your eyes.

“Every Jedi needs it.” He tossed a pebble your way, watching you focus to float it in mid-air, copying him. “Or at least that’s what Obi-Wan tells me.”

“And what do you think?”

He shrugged. “I think that diplomatic training helps us make a difference in the galaxy. We’re meant to be peacemakers right?”

“I guess…” Shifting, you turned to see another bird fly overhead, making a shrill sound you’d never heard before. “But what’s the point of being a peacemaker when so many think of the Jedi as soldiers?”

“That’s where the training comes in handy,” he said, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Then tell me Skywalker, what makes you such an expert in the diplomatic areas of life?”

He tossed another pebble, laughing when it hit your shoulder. “Sometimes you have to make negotiations as a Jedi.” He jumped to shore, dropping another stone to the collection he’d been steadily building since you found the river.

“Ah yes but not all of them are peaceful,” you called out, following him and landing on another closer rock.”

“Obi-Wan likes to call them…aggressive negotiations.”

“Let me guess… That means negotiations—”

“With a lightsaber,” he finished for you—smiling.

You fell into laughter at that, throwing your head back as a lovely ache spread through your stomach. Only for it to quickly divert into a yelp at the feeling of your foot slipping on the rock. Losing your balance, you quickly tried to right yourself, but knew there wouldn’t be a way to fix it in time. So you gave into the fall. The pain would last for a moment, but Anakin’s hand grasping onto your wrist steadied your movements. He brought you back to a standing position. Where you promptly fell against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands cupping your cheeks to tilt your head back.

Nodding, you felt your throat dry up once you realized exactly how close he stood to you. It wasn’t right to feel the sharp tug in your heart at the sight of his blue eyes which bored into yours—the color nearly putting the river itself to shame. You shouldn’t hold these feelings for a fellow padawan—you knew the rules inside and out, and yet…he still hadn’t let go of your face. His thumbs rubbed gently at your cheeks, a faint smile playing on his lips as he saw your own part slightly.

“What would you call this?” you inquired breathlessly, hands pressing against his chest and feeling his heartbeat beneath them.

Anakin breathed out a puff of laughter—the warmth of it washing across your cheek as he moved even closer. “A polite conclusion.”

Before you could smile, he dipped down, pressing his lips against yours and effectively ceasing your words. You’d always wondered if he would ever kiss you a second time after what happened on Tatooine. Neither of you spoke of it again after he pulled away and left you standing there, but you knew something had shifted between the both of you. Just like it did now. Sliding your hands up until your arms wrapped around his neck, you tried to keep yourself balanced as he once again tore the ground up from underneath you.

It was him pulling you closer that did you in. His lips were soft—you always knew they would be—and it took everything in you not to ask for more than just this. The warmth of his tongue pressing against your bottom lip jerked you out of your reverie, causing you to practically tear yourself away from him. His arms only tightened around your waist, lips more insistent as he coaxed you once more into a kiss that shouldn’t have happened.

You opened your mouth, melting into his hold as his tongue pressed against yours and felt the steady thrum of your heart speed up exponentially. Until you were sure it would burst out of your chest.

“Beautiful,” he murmured—pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“They could find us,” you said, fighting against the haze he put you in. “They could—”

“I don’t care.”

Three words shouldn’t have made you submit so easily, but there you were giving into his kiss yet again. Whimpering into his mouth and kissing him back with enough fervor to throw him off slightly, causing him to stumble back a bit. This shouldn’t happen. It wasn’t right. Jedi weren’t meant to form attachments. Especially not with other Jedi. The heat of his tongue against yours shoved the words right out of your mind, but still something continued to feel off.

It wasn’t…right.

This…didn’t—it didn’t feel…right.

“Enough!” you exclaimed, shoving Obi-Wan out of your mind as you clutched your head, the tears now falling down your face in waves. Heaving in a ragged breath, you tried to piece the walls that enclosed your mind back together, but found you couldn’t.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Just don’t,” you snapped. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

You knew it wasn’t right to turn your anger on Obi-Wan, but there was so much of it that you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. At this point you weren’t sure if the anger truly belonged to you or if it was Anakin’s pouring into you from the Force. Still you struggled to maintain it, breathing deeply as you fought to get back to the light side of the Force.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, watching as the inside of your mind waged war on itself. “I know why he’s calling out to you.”

“Why?” you asked, helpless against the mental anguish that you were going through.

“He loves you.”

Scoffing, you struggled to get to your feet. “Don’t be ridiculous Obi-Wan. He never loved me.”

“If you believe that then there’s no hope in saving him.”

Turning, you felt the anger flood your veins, shoving its way to the surface. “Saving him?” you shouted. “There’s no saving him! He murdered the people we cared about. Younglings! He turned himself into what they wanted him to be—what they molded him to be.”

“We’re Jedi. We must keep the peace no matter the cost—”

“And how far will you go to keep this peace? My death? Your death? The death of Luke, of his sister?” Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed. “Anakin Skywalker is dead. In his place Darth Vader walks the path of the Sith.” You shut your eyes, doing what you could to right your mind. “Saving him was never an option.”

“We have to try.”

“I don’t,” you replied, effectively shutting yourself off from the Force as Obi-Wan attempted to push his way through to you.

“Then what will you do? Keep hiding?”

“Yes!” you cried. “I will keep hiding, because the Jedi Order is gone and everything we stood for, everything that kept the balance…he destroyed. I would rather think him dead than be constantly reminded of his betrayal.”

Obi-Wan stood, his expression exactly the same as when he told you of what transpired that fateful night. “You’re being selfish and that’s not the Jedi way.”

“Fuck you.” The words were spat out harshly in his direction. “I choose to forget all that pain and if that makes me selfish…then so be it. Perhaps you should try it.”

You were being cruel to him—unfair—because the anger inside of you could no longer be contained behind the walls of your mind. Whether it was yours or Anakin’s you could no longer tell, but it hurt either way. It felt as if you were being stabbed repeatedly in the heart with every new memory, dream, and hope that was shoved your way. Obi-Wan’s ideas of saving Anakin were merely fantasy. Yet that didn’t stop you from believing they could be true—that you might be able to save him and stop this madness.

“Do you think I haven’t tried?” His words startled you. “I wish I could forget what I did to leave him there, how I nearly killed him. It haunts me with every dream and every memory—just as it does you Bandit, but I…do not have the luxury of forgetting.”

He was right. You knew it down to the very marrow of your bones that being able to forget was simply a transparent hope you held onto. Eventually it would shatter in your hands, leaving you bleeding in the end, just as he did. Only how could you try and save the man who did so much damage? Who broke your heart over and over again simply to gain the power to save the ones he loved from death.

“He’ll kill me,” you whispered, eyes staring at the now orange sky that peeked through the entrance of the cave.

“How do you know?”

Scoffing, you glanced at Obi-Wan. “I just do. Even if he did love me, love is a weakness to Sith.”

“Yes. You’re right.” He stepped closer, his palm falling to your shoulder and grasping it softly. “But a weakness in Anakin’s case could be just what’s needed to save him.”

You wanted to deny his words, to pretend you could simply remain as you were. A fugitive in a galaxy that was under siege—a galaxy that could no longer be saved. But the familiar feeling that pulled at the back of your mind rose up—making space in the hollow space of your chest that once housed your heart. The need to help. To bring peace once more and show that the Jedi of old weren’t gone entirely.

“I don’t know if I can face him,” you whispered, staring at the lines of your palm in the hopes that they would make his eyes vanish from your mind. That you wouldn’t have to live with this suffering.

“We all have to face him eventually,” Obi-Wan admitted.

You knew what he meant; how the feelings waged a war in his own mind too. He was just as terrified to finally see the man he once knew, to witness what Anakin had become, what the dark side turned him into. The fear still lingered in his mind, overtaking everything he knew like a plague. There was never any other alternative than this. The second Anakin turned, the both of you were left with nothing else to do except scatter amidst the galaxy.

It was a grief that weighed heavy on your shoulders.

A loss you’d never come back from.

“There’s nothing we can do to help him.” As much as Obi-Wan wanted to see otherwise, you knew that to be the truth. Anakin was beyond helping, but even still you found yourself unable to let go of the hope. That constant echo of what once was now resurfacing the longer you tried to fight against this.

You were a keeper of the peace. A protector of those who couldn’t protect themselves.

You were everything Anakin turned his back on and somehow in a twisted way…it might just be what could bring him back.

Obi-Wan watched as you fought with yourself. Your mind was dark and filled with turmoil, but then he saw it. The small glimmer of something bright reflecting back at him. That once evergreen hue flickering to life again—matching the light of the weapon you once wielded with pride. He watched as the Jedi you once were—the master you came to be—bloom before his very eyes. Obi-Wan try as he might would not be the one to bring Anakin back from the dark side. Even you might not succeed in this task, but he could see the determination in your eyes, the power that filled your stance.

In the depths of your memories he saw the truth. The reason why he urged you to go.

You would die for Anakin.

Just as he would have died for you.

It was a bond stronger than any he’d witnessed before and he could see that you knew it as well.

“I’ll need a ship,” you said, finality echoing in your tone—eyes sharp and clear.

He grinned, reached for his cloak and the small pack of credits. “I’m sure there’s something to be found.”

[underacalicosky]

I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?

“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“

“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”

His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.

“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.

Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.

“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.

Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.

“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”

With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.

“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”

This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.

Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.

But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.

“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.

“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”

“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.

“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.

With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.

“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.

“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.

Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.

With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.

Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.

“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”

Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.

“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.

“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”

“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.

[brrmian]

something that so many star wars fans somehow fail to realize is that george lucas always intended for the fall of the republic to be a completely unavoidable tragedy. that’s what makes it such brilliant storytelling.

placing the blame on just one party in the galaxy-wide farce that was the clone wars just isn’t interpreting the story the way its writer intended. neither is saying that all players should be held equally accountable. i don’t think the jedi were at fault for the state of the republic, and (despite the fact that he did horrible things) neither was anakin, on a galactic or governmental scale.

the real villain is palpatine, who shaped the government into a corrupt system by his own hand. the blame for turning a democratic republic into an authoritarian dictatorship (which it was long before it became the empire) under the noses of thousands of incredibly corrupt politicians must be placed entirely on him, and him alone.

by the end of the war, the jedi council recognized that they had already lost the ability to hold onto what it truly means to be a jedi. in their prime during the days of the old republic, the jedi knights were “the guardians of peace and justice.” they’re meant to as diplomats, peacekeepers, mediators, and public servants. when the clone wars began, they were essentially forced into being soldiers, generals, and quasi-politicians by palpatine and the senate. all of those things are antithetical to the jedi’s beliefs, but they had no other choice.

placing even the smallest bit of blame on the jedi for anything leading to the republic’s downfall—and their own—is not only unfair, it’s factually incorrect. the jedi order is a monastic organization. they have no say in the senate and no voting power. saying they’re corrupt, when in fact they were just as conned by palpatine as the rest of the galaxy, is victim-blaming and scapegoating.

palpatine shoved the jedi face first into fighting the war, and pretty much threw the clone army into their laps on top of that. the jedi had no say in the matter, and they certainly had no say in the war itself being started, either. because he controlled both sides, palpatine was able to make the CIS and the republic declare war on each other even though its citizens wanted the same outcome: political independence and survival. if not for palpatine’s schemes, the separatists would have been allowed to secede peacefully, the republic would have continued existing, and the war would have been completely avoided. but that was unfortunately not the case.

so in a galaxy thrown into an unavoidable war by its own secret dictator, with an army of sentient slaves suddenly at their command, and the risk of billions of deaths at the hands of the droid army imminently approaching, what do the galaxy’s official peacekeepers have no other choice but to do? be peacekeepers. why wouldn’t the sworn defenders of the galaxy be out on the battlefields trying to end the war? if they sat in the temple and did nothing, they simply wouldn’t be jedi.

the jedi were forced into a lose/lose situation. every religion and organization has faults, but that doesn’t place any blame on them for the catch-22 they were trapped into falling for. when the clone wars started—and the key point here is that it never should have in the first place—the jedi still needed to be jedi. unfortunately for them, that meant having positions of power not meant for them being thrust upon their shoulders. they couldn’t drop the burden, because that meant actively choosing not to save lives—but the other option, becoming soldiers despite the tenet of their beliefs that dictates they shouldn’t, was no better.

see what a cruel trap palpatine set? it’s like a fish being caught in a fisherman’s net. the net is spread out across the ocean floor, and the fish swim above it, not knowing that the trap is waiting to be drawn in around them from below. in the end, when the net starts to tighten, dragging them closer to the surface, they can’t swim fast enough to escape from the middle to the edge—and to safety—before the net is completely tied. it’s the cruelest kind of trap: the kind that gives you just the right amount of time to think you can escape while being sprung just quick enough to make actually escaping impossible.

in the end, the order actively chose to fight the war because they needed to. there was no other way to continue on as who they were. militarizing the order was not the right choice in a vacuum, but this was not that; this was a situation in which every galaxy-changing choice was the wrong one. the jedi knew they were making a decision that drew them farther away from their beliefs, but it was the lesser of an infinite list of evils, and they didn’t see the walls closing in on them until it was too late.

lucas himself has even said that the order was not corrupt or decaying from the inside, nor did they make a series of bad choices that ultimately led to their own destruction. they were always just trying to do the right thing—but unlike literally everything else in fiction, the jedi order’s death was completely unaffected by any of the choices they made. no matter what they did, they were always going to lose. the fall of the republic wasn’t caused by its defenders choosing what they saw as the least bad choice. it didn’t come down to any decisions, political or not, that the jedi council made with the limited tools that they had. it certainly didn’t come down to one emotionally unstable twenty-three-year-old’s slow descent into insanity, either. the republic and the jedi would still have been destroyed with or without anakin’s unhinged nervous breakdown.

anakin, just like the order, the republic, and the separatists, was taken advantage of by palpatine. even if a person’s choices are their own, they don’t exist in a vacuum.

anakin would have made better choices if not for palpatine, but he didn’t. the jedi order would have kept the peace if not for palpatine, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t. the republic, and democracy with it, would not have crumbled if not for palpatine. not the order, not anakin, not the separatists, and not the republic.

in the end, they were all just pawns in a decades-spanning plan, one that none of them saw coming until it was too late—and by then, it was already irreversible.

[antianakin]

It's really sad that the Jedi Apprentice series and its impact on Obi-Wan's character in fandom is reduced to a combination of: uwu sad Obi-Wan with trauma, Qui-Gon is an abuser, or "this is how Obi-Wan learned to shoot a gun/fight a war."

When there's honestly SO MUCH you can do with Jedi Apprentice and its impact on Obi-Wan that goes way deeper than that and really takes the themes and messages of the story into account. Like all the lessons about attachment and how Obi-Wan was so caught up in wanting to be a Jedi Knight that he couldn't conceive of any other future for himself and saw everything else as inferior and the fear of the uncertainty in his life if he couldn't be a Jedi Knight consumes him to the point of hindering his relationship with Qui-Gon and his understanding of what it means to be a Jedi at all. Obi-Wan learns to understand what being a Jedi is all about because he makes a mistake that ultimately has a lot of unintended consequences that he can't really undo, either by himself or at all. Obi-Wan has to learn to take responsibility for his own choices and accept that life is often uncertain before he can truly be a Jedi. This is what makes Obi-Wan such a GOOD Jedi later on. This is why he can connect so well to Anakin even, because he's felt many of the same fears that Anakin would be struggling with upon joining the Order.

You can look at the impact of different kinds of friendships Obi-Wan makes within his first few missions, from a fellow slave to Service Corps members to the children of Melida/Daan. They're all from very different walks of life and have radically different personalities and agendas, and Obi-Wan learns things from all of them that he takes with him. And none of them are romantic! Because he doesn't NEED a romantic love interest to be interesting or relatable or a foil for Anakin.

And his relationship with Qui-Gon is so interesting because the two of them are suffering from many of the same issues and have to grow through them together. They both see themselves as failures due to the actions of others (Bruck's bullying and the rejection of the other masters for Obi-Wan, and Xanatos's betrayal for Qui-Gon) and only by learning to see each other for who they are rather than the symbols of their regrets and fears are they able to truly connect to each other and move forward in their relationship. It's honestly really beautiful! They are neither of them perfect in their handling of their relationship, that's the POINT. They both make mistakes and screw up and have to deal with the fallout and figure out if fighting for each other is worth the possible pain if they make a mistake again. And it is. Of course it is. They both make each other BETTER because their relationship with each other allows them to see themselves more clearly.

Jedi Apprentice could be a really interesting basis for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's characters if more people were willing to do a more than skin deep analysis of it.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Torn by the Dark

Part 2

Summary: Confronting Vader reveals the truth of who he truly was, leaving you torn between conflicting emotions. As you continue to fight him, you come to a painful realisation: there's only one way this can end.

Warnings: angst, character death.

A/N: Here comes another angsty Anakin oneshot, because I can't seem to give that man a happy ending 😭.

WC: 2.7 K.

You can read part 1 here. Fictober Challenge

He inhaled deeply, his mind a tempest of emotions he thought he’d long buried. The name- the one you knew, the one he’d abandoned, hung on his tongue, a bitter reminder of the man he once was, a man he now despised . Unable to say it- to confirm it, he raised a trembling hand and lifted his helmet, revealing the face of the man you had once loved. His eyes brimmed with sorrow, pain, and unspoken regret.

You staggered back, a lump forming in your throat as tears threatened to spill. Shaking your head in disbelief, you whispered, “No… it can’t be.”

His eyes darkened, anger and resentment igniting. “I hate that name,” he said, the words escaping through clenched teeth. “Anakin was weak. I had to kill him.” 

Fury boiled over as you ignited your lightsaber once more, charging at him with everything you had. Your anger wasn’t just at him- it was at yourself, too.

He stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard by your relentless assault. But your anger made you predictable. He blocked your strikes effortlessly with the Force, his lightsaber untouched at his side. The fact that he didn’t even need it only fueled your frustration further.

“Slow d-” He stopped himself mid-sentence, catching himself in the old habit of advising you, just like he used to when you sparred.

“You fucking left me!” you screamed, breath ragged, exhaustion settling in, but you kept attacking, determined to make him pay.

“I had no choice!” he barked, his voice rising in raw frustration.

You glared at him, eyes burning with rage. “And I have no choice.” You swung again, but he easily deflected your blows with a mere flick of his hand.

After a few more strikes, your body screamed for rest, and you paused, gasping for breath. Through gritted teeth, you forced out, “Why haven’t you killed me yet? Stop playing games…fight me!”

“Because I still care about you!” The words burst from him before he could stop them, surprising even himself.

“Lies!” Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. You were trapped, torn, and unsure of what to do next.

The monster before you resembled the man you had loved so deeply. If there weren’t traces of his old habits- those familiar gestures and expressions, it would’ve been so clear to you, so easy to hate him. But seeing parts of Anakin still alive within him only stirred your conflicted emotions.

You sensed the struggle within him, a battle between the mask he wore and the person he once was. You could see Anakin trying- fighting to reach the surface, but Vader was forcing him back down. Just as you wrestled with your own feelings, he fought his own war within.

“It’s not a lie! I still care!” His fists tightened at his sides, trembling as he tried to contain the storm building inside him.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have left me! You wouldn’t have chosen power over me.” Your voice cracked, the weight of the words suffocating you. “You made me a promise.” You exhaled a pained breath, steadying yourself. “But you know what? I release you from that promise… You mean nothing to me anymore. Anakin is dead. You killed him.” Though the words left your lips, you knew you didn’t mean them. Frustrated by your own weakness, you attacked again.

His heart sank at your words, a sharp pain shooting through his chest- a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He had never wanted this- had never wanted to lose you. But he’d had to let you go- for both your sakes. 

“FIGHT ME!” you screamed, trembling with fury. His restraint felt like an insult, mocking you with its indifference. He wasn’t even trying. He wasn’t using his lightsaber, and it tore at you.

He hesitated, his inner conflict warring within him. But in the end, anger overtook him. “Fine,” he snarled, igniting his lightsaber with a sharp hiss. “You want a fight? You’ll get one.”

Though he still held back, his anger surged, as he charged at you, unleashing a flurry of strikes, faster and more powerful than before. You struggled but held your ground, desperately trying to keep up.

His anger fueled each strike, pushing you back until you stumbled, crashing to the ground. Yet he waited, watching you rise- granting you a mercy he offered no one else.

“I hate you,” the words slipped out, barely above a whisper. You hadn’t meant to say them, but his restraint, his pity- it only made you angrier. You hated how he still had this hold on you.

“You don’t mean that,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion.

“I DO mean it,” you spat, trying to provoke him, trying to push him to the edge, to make him strike, to make him kill you. 

He sensed your provocation, felt your need for him to lash out, to end it. But he wouldn't give in. Not to that. He refused to let you bait him into something he would never forgive himself for.

“Stop it!” he barked, his voice shaking with rage. “You don’t mean what you’re saying.”

“Every.Damn.Word.” You spat, eyes boring into his, daring him to strike. If looks could kill, he would have been dead long ago.

His anger reached a boiling point, frustration and pain twisting together in a dangerous blend. He couldn’t bear to hear you say those words, couldn’t stand to think you hated him this much. He feared what his rage might lead him to do- he had always been impulsive.

Your fight became vicious, both of you moving on pure instinct, relying on your emotions. His strikes were powerful, almost overwhelming, but you held on, fueled by your own rage and determination.

Though stronger and more experienced, you sensed hesitation in him. His anger should have consumed him by now, yet something held him back. For a moment, you thought you saw fear in his eyes- not fear for himself, but fear of what you might become. Fear that your anger might lead you down the same path he had taken.

“You can’t keep this up forever,” he said, trying to mask his worry with a smug tone. “You’ll tire before I do.”

“Then strike me down,” you challenged, your voice defiant as you pushed forward again. Exhaustion tugged at your body, but you refused to give in.

He faltered at your words, his anger giving way to disbelief. You couldn’t be serious-  couldn't truly be asking him to kill you. Not now, not when he was already cracking, his walls beginning to crumble.

“No,” he said firmly, his voice controlled but conflicted. ”I can’t do that- I won’t do that.”

You scoffed at his words. He had already killed many of your fellow Jedi, so many of your friends, and you wondered if he would’ve killed you too had you been at the Temple during Order 66.

“The most powerful Sith in the galaxy can’t kill a rebel- a Jedi? That’s new,” you mocked.

He clenched his jaw, his anger resurfacing at your words. He couldn’t stand being teased, not by you- not like this, not now. “I don’t want to kill you…I could never hurt you like this.”

You lowered your lightsaber briefly, your voice laced with bitterness. “Could never hurt me? All you’ve done these past years is hurt me.” You held back a blink, determined not to let your tears fall again.

His heart ached at your words. The pain of your accusation cut through him like a knife. He had thought- hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would understand, that you might see why he had done what he did.

“I never meant to hurt you” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You let out a cold, bitter laugh. “In what world did you think turning to the dark side was the right thing? That killing all those innocent people was right?”

He hesitated, replaying all the thoughts, emotions, and choices that had led him to that moment. He knew some of what he’d done was wrong, though part of him felt it was justified. But this wasn’t about the Jedi, the Sith, or the Republic. 

“I thought… I was doing right by you-” he admitted quietly, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours.

“Right by me?” you repeated, your voice thick with disbelief. “By fucking leaving me without a word? By making me think you were dead while I mourned you?” Your grip tightened around your lowered lightsaber as the sting of betrayal clawed at your chest.

He couldn’t look at you anymore, his gaze falling to the floor. “I knew how you’d feel if you found out the truth- that I betrayed the Jedi… betrayed you.” His voice wavered, thick with guilt, shame, and regret. “I thought staying away would spare you the pain. That by doing what I did, I could save you from watching me fall to the dark side. I…I was afraid there was a chance you might follow me down that path.” He let out a frustrated sigh, his last words slipping out in barely audible tone.

His words stung. You could see the guilt that etched on his face, and it was so painfully familiar. The Anakin you once knew, the one who always feared loss, was right in front of you, but twisted by darkness. You hated that it made sense.

“You should have trusted me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You should have let me help you. I could have saved you.”

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of all he had done. “I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“Then why did you turn?” you asked, your voice tinged with heartfelt bewilderment. “Why did you give in to the dark side?”

“I thought…the dark side would give me the power to save the ones I loved. I thought it would make me strong enough to protect you from any harm,” he admitted, finally looking up to meet your gaze once more.

You nodded slowly, a disappointed smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Protect me?” You scoffed. “Well, now that you have it, tell me. How does it feel? To have all that power yet no control? No one left to protect?”

He paused, your words cutting deep. He had believed in the dark side, convinced of its power to make him stronger. And yet, here he was- emptier than he had ever been. He had wanted more power, yes, that was true. He had wanted the strength to protect those he cared about, to save them from death. He had thought that ending the Order and the Republic would rid the galaxy of corruption, that he would create a peaceful Empire. But in the end, all he had achieved was the opposite. 

“It feels…hollow,” he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper. For the first time, you saw true vulnerability in his eyes.

You nodded slowly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. “Good.” 

Without warning, you raised your lightsaber, determination flooding your body. No more talking, no more dwelling on the past. This fight had to end.

He sighed deeply, sensing the shift in you, and prepared himself, knowing you wouldn’t back down.

As you engaged him, he sensed a disturbance within you- a grim resolve that wouldn’t end well.  You energy was fading, but you refused to stop.

“Stop this madness! You’re going to get yourself killed!” he shouted, panic seeping into his voice, his tone almost pleading.

“I don’t care! This ends now, one way or another!” you snarled, your strikes growing more desperate, your movements slipping as exhaustion took hold.

“Please!” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t do this.”

“You should have thought about that before you revealed yourself! Before you stopped me from leaving! Hell, before any of this…It’s too late now,” you spat, your energy fading, but your will remained unshaken.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, and this time, the words carried genuine sorrow. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice.

His apology shattered something inside you. He had never apologized, not like this. You knew that if you stayed, maybe- just maybe you could help him, save him- save countless lives. But after everything, after the truth had come out, you were selfish, impulsive- consumed by your own feelings and pain. You realized he’d been right: if he’d come back then, you might have followed him down the dark path. You couldn’t live with the possibility of becoming like him.

Now that you were fighting him, you saw just how much you’d changed. Anger, hatred, resentment, and pain- they were all-consuming. This wasn’t the Jedi way. Yet, even though they were ‘extinct’ now, you had tried to hold to their principles. But now…now you had nothing left.

And the worst part? After everything he had done, after all this time, you still loved him. But you couldn’t live with that fact, and so you knew there was only one thing left to do. 

Summoning all your strength, you managed to push him back one last time. And just as he prepared to strike again, seeing you about to block, you deactivated your lightsaber, letting his blade pierce through your gut.

Your weapon clattered to the ground as you fell to your knees. His lightsaber immediately switched off, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what had happened- what you’d just done- what he’d just done. Before your head could hit the ground, Anakin was there, catching you, cradling you close in his arms.

“No!” he cried, pulling you close, his face twisted in panic and pain.

When he looked down, you were smiling softly, a single tear tracing a path down your cheek.

“No, no, NO! What have you done? What have I done?” His voice was frantic, laced with panic, pain, and fury. He couldn’t understand why- why you had let him do this, couldn’t bear the reality that you’d allowed this.

“It’s alright…Anakin,” you whispered, your voice weak as your trembling hand reached up to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, finally allowing himself to feel you. He had waited so long for this moment, but now…now it was all wrong.

“Why?” His voice cracked, the strain of his emotions uncontainable. “Why would you do this?”

“It was the only way,” you whispered, your breath growing weaker. “I…I still love you after everything, but I can’t live knowing what I might become.” You could feel yourself drifting away, your vision dimming as the end drew near. At least now, just as you promised, you’d die before betraying the cause.

“No. Please, don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his tears falling freely now. “My life without you was nothing but darkness. And now that I’ve found you again, you- I-…What cruel fate is this? To lose you all over again?”

“This time…it’s not your fault,” you murmured, the strength fading from your voice. “I…forgive…y-”

Your heart stopped before you could finish, and the light in your eyes flickered out as your hand slipped from his cheek, falling limp. There was so much more you had wanted to tell him, so much more you needed him to know, but time wasn’t on your side.

“NO!” he screamed, his voice echoing through the halls, the weight of your death crashing over him.

He held onto your lifeless body, his grip tightening as if he could keep you from slipping away entirely, almost crushing you in his arms as grief and rage consumed him. His hands clenched into fists, and in a moment of blind fury he couldn’t contain, he unleashed the Force in a violent wave, obliterating everything around him. Stormtroopers fell, machinery shattered- all caught in this storm of his despair. By the time he was done, nothing was left standing.

As the dust settled, an agonizing emptiness remained. Still cradling your body, he felt a hollowness more complete than he’d ever known. You were gone, and nothing- not even the power he’d sacrificed everything for could bring you back.

Tags: @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @dcrthbaeder @aoi-targaryen

[loveliestlovelygirl]

divine temptations | 111

say yes to heaven, say yes to me

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: anakin, a seraph, has lost himself to his obsession of you. with every moment he can, he watches over you as you attend to your daily duties around the convent. and day by day his desire grows. when your guardian angels fail to protect you, anakin believes he has no choice but to intervene, breaking numerous heavenly laws in the process.

w.c: 2.2k+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from catholicism primarily, sexual themes, corruption kink, light sexualization of the reader as a nun, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns, attempted sexual assault

table of contents | 222

The crux of his obsession began with your voice. Harmonious and pure. Passionate and sweet. The soft vibrato and splendid timbre of your voice could be heard above all the clatter from the realms of Earth. The melodies you sang haunted him from the rise of the sun to the white shadow of the moon. And while he needed not sleep, he found no rest as he smoldered in his selfish desires for you. After he had fulfilled his duties for that day, when he was alone, he remained perched in the Heavens watching over you, drowning in the beauty of your voice, and lusting for your human touch.

His name was Anakin. And day after day he watched you, wishing he could descend to the realm which held your precious life. But that was a boundary that he was forbidden to cross. He was confined to be a guardian of the Heavens, not of Earth. To him, it was a cruel, cruel fate. Watching you from above, lightyears of distance between your realities, was as close to you as he was permitted.

An angel of his status, chosen to protect the thrones of the deity, a seraph, should give no eye to the realms beneath him nor find solace in the voice of human girl. The way that you had captivated him was unnatural and unholy. If anyone found out he entertained himself with you, he might be marked with shame by the highest councils, until he repented publicly. Though he might never obtain such a position as his ever again. As it were, he found himself considering these things, as if shame might be a solution to making contact with you.

He'd prefer to be your guardian angel than a guardian of his own father. He wanted to serve creation rather than its Creator. And that was sin. He could not deny this secret was a source of guilt. And it would not be long before the all-knowing Maker noticed how far from perfection Anakin had fallen.

But he wasn’t afraid of the fall. He wanted to connect with you in a deeper way than this parasocial existence. He wished to be your guardian angel. But you had many. Someone so beloved by the Creator had five guardian angels. And he hated each of them with equal rage.

Hate was dangerous. It was said that hatred lit the path of the fallen. And if it were true, then he had already doomed himself the moment he began desiring you.

He watched you as you prayed in the chapel, kneeling on the bench and making the Sign of the Cross, touching your beautiful skin with your fingertips. Contentment marked your face, and he felt it in your soul. It was only a feeling he had when he listened to your voice pray and sing with such grace and beauty. In your dainty hands, you held the rosary beads and began to say your prayer. Holding the first bead between your fingers, you whispered Our Father to yourself. Day after day you’d repeat the same prayers with equal passion. Your love and faithfulness to the one who gave you life was unmatchable. You had sacrificed much to serve him, cutting off your family and material possessions entirely to live a humble life in the convent. Your prayers never revolved around your desires, only for others. You often prayed for your sisters. Never for yourself. Anakin often wondered if you had any dreams of your own at all. Despite all his abilities, he could not hear your thoughts. He only heard what you said aloud to yourself.

As you worked with your hands in the garden, you often sang psalms of praise when you thought no one was around to listen. You sang softly, the most beautiful melody which would stain his thoughts day and night forever. He would hear you even when you were silent; the barriers of all the heavenly realms echoed with your voice, to his ears never ceasing. But perhaps, it’s only because he desired you so.

His obsession was different than that of men. Though not immune to your divine beauty, his craving for your touch transcended that of sexual pleasure. Sex is something created for humans to enjoy with other humans. His being was never made for intercourse with mankind, and he viewed it as a simple animalistic action. A way to express desire, but to him it was lacking in true passion.

What he felt for you was true desire.

He wanted to consume you.

Corrupt you.

He wanted you to desire him, crave him, lust over him, with every atom of your body and with every piece of your soul. He wanted to see you overturn your religious convictions and worship him instead. He wanted your prayers, your psalms, your whole heart.

Was that too much to ask?

Forbidden was what it was. Sacrilegious even. And enough to get him cast out of the heavenly realms forever.

But the longer he wished for you, the more he thought that it might be worth it. There was nothing he wanted more than you. And only you. He wanted to live out the rest of eternity adored by you. That would be enough.

But you were unaware of his existence. Which awakened rage within him strong enough to tear galaxies apart.

He could see you, but as long as he remained in his dimension, you would never be able to see him or know that he existed. He was forbidden to show you his glory, to share his voice, and to touch your skin. It was never meant to be.

And yet he still found a way to make contact, against all heavenly odds.

You were plucking red apples from the orchard trees close to the road. It wasn’t a common route from the convent to the market, but some used it. Anakin had finally caught a break from the council meetings with the Thrones and Cherubim and sneaked away to see you. He hated that your sisters sent you out alone where you could be harmed.

Your five guardians flitted around you in a circle. He knew that they would do almost everything in their power to keep you safe. Everything except actually physically intervening. For you, there would be no limits in how far Anakin would go to protect you. He would break every earthly and heavenly law.

For you.

And only you.

When you had filled your basket with apples, you climbed down the ladder to rest. You leaned back against the tree and looked up at the sky. If you had eyes to see the other dimensions, you would have been looking right into his eyes. His heart swelled with pride, knowing that you shared a connection, even if you didn’t know it yet.

An older human male was steering a small buggy pulled by two horses. Anakin had been watching him for miles coming down the road. Your guardian angels seemed to be unconcerned about his approach. And they could hear the thoughts of humans, which meant that you were likely safe.

But there was something about that man Anakin didn’t like. Perhaps it was only his proximity to you. He was jealous of anything that was closer to you than he.

You sang to yourself softly, and Anakin drew as near as he were permitted just to listen to your voice.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said to you. He had gotten off his buggy and walked over the road and a stretch of grass to meet you at the tree.

Anakin held himself back somehow, though if he saw fit, he could scorch the man from the inside out until he returned to dust.

You looked up at this stranger standing over you, and instantly, your eyes widened in fear. Anakin assumed it had been a long time since you’d spoken to a man. It was natural for you to be afraid. You thought you were all alone.

Anakin only watched the interaction transpire.

“Thank you,” you said back, your voice trembling.

“Would you sing a song for me?” the man asked.

“I think… that you should leave. This is private land, sir.”

A sane person would have backed away and said his goodbyes, but he didn’t. And Anakin knew instantly that he should have trusted himself to know this man’s intentions for you. This despicable creature kicked the basket from your lap and grabbed you, holding you by the throat against the tree trunk.

Your guardian angels had failed you. All five of them. Were they not paying attention to his evil thoughts? How had they missed them? They held the power to influence the thoughts of men. They could have convinced him to turn away and leave you alone.

But they didn’t.

They were going to let this man defile you.

Anakin watched them scrambling around, trying when it’s too late to change this man’s heart. But they could do nothing to interfere with free will once man had decided.

And Anakin thought that to be a stupid law. One meant to be broken.

With a singular motion of his index finger, Anakin sent lightning from the clouds, lightning that struck this man and stopped his heart. He was burned and scarred instantly and fell back, turning to ash.

You screeched and cried and sobbed, crumbling to your knees in a shaking mess. He wished he could comfort you, but he had already done enough to ruin himself entirely. But it was worth it to keep you safe. This was as close to you as he had ever gotten. The electricity from his lightning bolt just buzzed your skin. And he felt it. He wanted you to feel him in some way.

Your guardians looked up at him all at once with fire in their eyes. Anakin smiled and gave them a wave. They were angry and picked him up. He could not overpower them when they were together.

They carried him to the high council and dropped him in the center of the chamber. Anakin did not need to explain himself; they already knew what had transpired.

“Need we remind you of the law of free will? The law given to humans by our Creator?” the Throne of Reason, Mace, said. His eyes were full of judgment and understanding at the same time.

Anakin picked himself up and stood, stretching out his layers of feathered wings. “I could not stand by and watch her be harmed.”

Mace closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. “You are in dangerous territory, young one. You know that what you did is one of the greatest of sins. To interfere with man’s will—” Mace pressed his lips together, “in such a physical way. Using the Heavens’ power against mankind. Anakin, you killed a man today.”

This was all such a waste of time. He knew what they were going to say. How they would interpret his actions. But why was no one speaking of that human’s sin. Rape. Raping a young maiden. That wasn’t worthy of a discussion? It wasn’t worthy of being mentioned?

“What about him?” Anakin asked defiantly.

Obi-Wan shot him a warning glare from where he sat. Obi-Wan was a cherub, one that was usually too busy attending to the wishes of the Creator to attend the high council. But Anakin did not doubt that his friend’s presence was needed today.

“The human?” Mace did not appreciate the diversion from Anakin’s sin.

“Yes. He was going to hurt her! And they—” Anakin pointed at your guardian angels, his entire being catching fire from his rage, “they weren’t going to intervene in any real way. They failed to listen. If I could hear the thoughts of men, I would have done something before he laid a hand on her.”

“Your obsession with this human is… concerning. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Why are your thoughts on the Earth realms? Need I remind you that your duties are the greatest in all of Heaven?” Mace said.

“But they could have done something!”

Disapprovingly, Mace shook his head. “You can’t know that. Only the Creator does. And it is not your place nor mine to judge men. That is for the Principalities to determine. They enact rightful punishment on humanity. You are not to interfere.”

Obi-Wan spoke up, coming to Anakin’s defense. “He is young. Neither you nor I can say that we haven’t made mistakes.”

“It wasn’t just a mistake. He broke the law. He overstepped his boundaries. He killed a man.”

“In his eyes, he was protecting her.”

Mace sighed. “She does not need him for that.”

Anakin stood there for a long time, drowning in their criticisms. His chest felt heavy, and he couldn’t hear himself think. He couldn’t hear you. All that he could do was worry for you. He knew the human mind could not erase trauma. It would remain with them for good. Tears streamed down his face at the thought of your pain which you did not deserve.

“I don’t need to listen to any of you! You have no authority over me!” Anakin announced without shame. Seraphim were of the highest order.

“I was not the one who called this meeting,” Mace said sympathetically. He looked above.

There was only one who held authority over him.

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@ejs398 @anakinsgirlfriendreal

[yourneighborhoodporg]

Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

[fanfic-obsessed]

Ten Years in Two months

While the meat and potatoes of this idea comes a bit later, it does require some finangleing beforehand. Some of the beginning does feel a bit contrived, because it is. In order for the dominoes of the plot to fall right later, we do have to force them into shape now in a series of improbable actions. 

Bear with me for a bit, we’ll get there. 

There is not really a particular point this starts, save that it is after Padme becomes pregnant (though well before she realizes she is) but before the Umbara arc (or ignoring the Umbara Arc), for no particular reason other than I want Waxer there.  A mission is assigned to the 212th to escort Padme Amidala and her retinue to a neutral world for negotiations with the Separatists.  They are taking with them commander Ahsoka Tano (the in-world explanation being that she was on Coruscant catching up with course work and they would rendezvous with the 501st, who were on a campaign in that region). 

On the way to this neutral world, from the perspective of the rest of the galaxy, the 212th in its entirety vanishes for two months. 

From the perspective of the 212th they become trapped on an uncharted planet for 10 years. 

For the rest of the galaxy those two months are enlightening into Anakin Skywalker's particular brand of instability.  Without the tempering influence of the bonds to his Master and Padawan, compounded by the fact that his secret wife disappeared as well, Well…his attempts to find them could, in the best of lights, be described as unhinged. He did not fall in at this time, for he was given no reason to make that choice (and falling to the dark, into evil is very much a choice. One does not fall by accident, after all), but he made it very clear that the war, protecting innocents, the Republic, or even the lives of his own men meant nothing compared to finding Padme (occasionally he would remember to make it seem as though he was focusing on finding Obi Wan or Ahsoka, though he never quite remembered to include the rest of the 212th). His obsession presented itself in such a way that even Palpatine was reconsidering some of his plans (he still intended to break Anakin into Vader, but he was now inclined to let Padme-and maybe even Ahsoka; Obi Wan was always going to die-live on as a stabilizing influence to his ultimate apprentice). 

He was swiftly removed from command of the 501st and had to be kept partially sedated for at least 6 of those 8 weeks. 

With the 212th for the first few months, from their perspective, they tried to contact the rest of the fleet. Tried to contact anyone.  Tried to escape from their orbit around this one planet, thankfully habitable and with an abundance of edible food. However, though they did not know it, the planet was out of sync with the rest of the galaxy.

Over the period of about two years they shifted from living mostly on the ships with just enough people on the surface of the planet to keep everyone fed to a more permanent settlement on the planet with a rotating skeleton crew up on ships to keep everything running. 

Padme found out about her pregnancy pretty early on, and with it came the knowledge that her relationship with Anakin was not the secret she thought it was.  Nor was the relationship forbidden like Anakin told her. The marriage was forbidden, because of the Oaths Anakin swore as part of the Jedi Order and how they conflicted with the traditional Nabooian Wedding vows (though she also finds out that the Jedi Order would have helped revise both sets of vows so they did not conflict).  Even beyond her own misunderstandings of the Jedi, she started to see the many places where Anakin either deliberately misunderstood his own culture, or deliberately misled her.  

In fact it became obvious within the first six months that every culture represented in the ships (The variety of cultures from the natborn admiralty, the Nabooian Delegation, The clones, and the Jedi) all had some misconceptions about all of the other cultures ranging from the humorously minor to massive misunderstandings (One of the minor misunderstandings is between the Jedi and the Clones on names and numbers. The Jedi believe that they are making sure that they are calling the clones what the clones want to be called instead of their designation. The clones think that the Jedi as a whole are uncomfortable with their designation AS names-Which yes but also no-so even though most of the clones prefer a name to their designation, even the few that want to use their designation are told by the other clones that the must choose a name to use around the Jedi). 

Obi Wan takes over Ahsoka’s training and the gaps that Anakin had left become very obvious; the place where he taught her something that was outright wrong even more so. About three months in, Ahsoka tells Obi Wan about Anakin’s ‘training’ of being surrounded and fired upon by the 501st.  One of the few things that Anakin was right about was that he Jedi would not understand, nor condone, that training. Ahsoka had not realized how disconnected from her own culture she had become in her short time with Anakin. How isolated he had made her from her people. Though she and Obi Wan were the only Jedi, she felt closer than ever to everything she had grown up with as he took on her tuition. 

In month 8 Obi Wan, who was looked to as the leader, arranged for a series of times to address the misconceptions held by an for each culture present.  When it became clear that they were cut off for the long haul, he helped the variety of people to start to live instead of just surviving.  And at the beginning there were a number of natborns among them that were anti clones, or anti Jedi, just as there were many clones that were anti nat born.  But with only about 1500 people in total (1300 clones, about 50 natborn officers and support staff, about 150 senatorial support staff) there were simply not enough people to support those kinds of prejudices.  It is hard to say that the clones were not human when you listen to the stories of decommissioned batchmates during one of the remembrance ceremonies.  Or hate the natborn lieutenant that got drunk and cried all over you about the pregnant wife they left behind.

The twins were born with a village of aunts and uncles, and though they are the oldest, they were not the only ones. Sache, one of Padme’s former handmaidens and part of her senatorial retinue, entered into a relationship with Waxer and Boil, having a child with them that was a year younger than the twins.  Many relationships formed and broke apart during those years.

Ahsoka and Padme ended up co parenting the twins, with Padme being called Mom and Ahsoka being called Mom Ah.  It was the twins who insisted on their names from their earliest ability to speak. 

In year four Cody and Obi Wan get married. Though theirs is not the only relationship that develops, nor the only one with healthy communication, their relationship does highlight to Padme how unhealthy her relationship with Anakin actually was. (It should be noted that, although Anakin’s instability and actions were flashier, this is not Anakin abusing/coercing the poor innocent Padme. In this they are toxic together, both acted in unhealthy ways that compromised their own morals).  Padme was able to see how Cody and Obi Wan did not use their love for each other as a bandage for deeper wounds. That CodyWan did not become all consuming; each man had friendships and hobbies and duties separate from each other (even with the friends they shared, they did not act as a single unit, inseparable from each other).  The other relationships she saw only drove this point home. 

At some point in those ten years she tells Obi Wan of what happened on Tatooine, just before the start of the war. And Obi Wan, eyes betraying his grief and horror at the massacre of the Tuskens asked her why she absolved Anakin of his crimes (By technicality, as a senator Padme did have the authority to absolve Anakin-so even if Tatooine becomes part of the Republic, and the crime is reported, Padme’s actions mean that Anakin cannot be tried under Republic Law). Padme cannot answer him.  

Though it does take time, Padem is eventually able to meet Obi Wan’s eyes again after the revelation. 

6 years in, Ahsoka and Padme realize that they have fallen in love.  Driven by the Jedi teachings for healthy and open communication (though many cultures value open and honest communication, few need it in the same way as the Jedi who are all some degree of Empath), they talk about what was happening. Neither is sexually attracted to the other, but they do want to date each other.  But Padme is married to Anakin. And it might have been six years, so they do not know if Anakin even still lived, and if did, he had likely moved on (both of which are reasonable assumptions) but being together without first speaking to Anakin felt too much like giving up the idea that they would find a way home. So they agreed to wait until they were ready to give up that idea. 

They had not given up by the time that the 10 year mark rolled around.

In year 7 the chips begin to deteriorate. The material they were made up of were not meant for the extra years of use, plus the method Helix used to stop the accelerated aging (discovered within 5 months of actually having time) created an enzyme as a byproduct that had no effect on the clones, but accelerated the deterioration of the chips.  The first three chips were removed after the clones involved complained of migraines. All the documentation in the computer banks (the archive of what was readily available, instead of what was stored on the galaxy’s version of the cloud) of the ships said the chips were to inhibit excess aggression. No one had any reason to not believe the documentation, not even with the realization that the chips were not in the right place for what they were supposed to do (the assumption is that the Kaminoans, for all their genetic know how, just do not understand near human neurology enough to have put it in the right place).  Obi Wan met with Helix, the head medic, with Cody after the removal of those first chips.  Obi Wan assumed that he did not know about the chips because he had not been on the council when the order was put in. Helix is able to confirm that all of the clones have these chips and what they are supposed to do (according to the literature) and that some were beginning to deteriorate.  After it becomes clear that the removal will not hurt the clone, they make the decision to remove all of them. However, believing them to be behavioral modifiers (if incorrectly placed), and as they did not have the optimal equipment to decode them, they all left it at that and put the Chips into storage and basically forgot about it. 

Just 15 days shy of the 10th anniversary of their arrival to the uncharted planet, whatever grip that was holding the ships bound to orbit the planet vanished (The planet was in sync with the rest of the galaxy- it is a window of time that is six hours long in the larger galaxy, or 15 days long on the planet) Still not able to raise communications to anyone outside of the planet’s orbit, not knowing how long they would have before they were stuck again, and fearing that they would be cut off from anyone left behind (no one had forgotten that the planet had not registered as there until they were trapped), everyone was loaded onto the ships along with all of their food stores and the 212th left the uncharted planet. 

As soon as they hit the galaxy at large again, alarms began to shriek. Every system that communicated with the central systems (basically everything outside of life support) experienced a fatal error upon reconnecting with the galaxy’s central system. It takes 4 days to fix. They have to reset all of the internal clocks/calendars in their computer systems to a date and time two months and 3.5 days after they became trapped (the last 24 hours of that time was spent inputting random dates into the system). 

NOTE: There is a very important reason for this. Computers are very black and white about some things, and communicating between computers is often validated on specific information to make sure that both systems are dealing with the same information at the same thing. Current Date/Time had to be validated for the purpose of navigation. Galactic/Stellar drift is very real, and in the mapped regions of the galaxy that drift is precisely calculated.  It is impossible to keep a real time map of every object in the galaxy, instead there is a systematic ping that goes out at specified times (Twice per Galactic Standard year) remapping every object in the known galaxy and correcting the location in the centralized system.  Then Navigation computers calculate how long it has been since the last ping to figure out where everything is and a safe route.  That only works if the current date time matches the current date time of the centralized system exactly (some of those object movements, even objects large enough to damage the largest of ships, can be measured in microseconds). 

No one realizes why this is an issue. The entirety of the 212th believe that 10 years have passed (born out by their time keepers, which had ticked along for ten years) and yet to the larger galaxy only two months have. They absently notice that by the time anything is working again the planet they were on had vanished. 

A message is sent to Coruscant, to the Jedi temple, but it is a hesitant thing. Deliberately vague in details. Obi Wan has no idea what 10 years has done for or to the war effort.  The response is almost immediate,  a call from the Jedi council. The very first question out of Mace Windu’s mouth is a cranky sounding ‘Where in the Force have you been for the last two months?’ (Look Master Windu is absolutely ecstatic that they are safe and not dead, but he has spent the four days helping to keep Anakin contained-the sedation began to wear off faster now that he could feel Ahoska and Obi Wan in the Force again-, the last two months realizing that Obi Wan ran about a third of their side of the war, and had been in the middle of sleeping for the first time in weeks).

There is quite a bit of confusion as both Obi Wan and Mace were absolutely sure the other had lost it over how long the 212th had been gone (Obi Wan: we were trapped for ten years; Mace: Bullshit! You’ve been gone for 2 months).  It is Ahsoka’s appearance that convinces Mace that something more is going on (he would not know the children, and Ahsoka is the only other one for whom 10 years-or 10 years and 5 months for the clones- would make a huge visible difference). Mace is able to convince Obi Wan that they really have only been gone two months and the 212th makes its way back to Coruscant, reeling over the disconnect (The Lieutenant who spent the last 10 years mourning over the missed moments with their wife and unborn child…hasn’t even missed the birth).

The mind healers who have been dealing with Anakin nearly weep in relief at the news that Padme Amidala is with the 212th and safe. They know that Anakin needs many much therapy still but they have hope he will actually pay attention now that his wife is back. 

The 212th, now a community in a way that they had not been, returned to Coruscant.  They do not split in the ways that they would have before (before relationships and children) and peer at the lives they had left behind that they no longer quite fit the shape of. 

The lieutenant brings home their best friend (a clone who had not picked their name before the mission, but decided to go with 29, which they picked to reference the number of a decommissioned batchmate)  to meet their wife, only for some of the wife’s family make an awful comment about flesh droids and being a pet (thankfully their wife was equally embarrassed by her brother’s behavior). 

Obi Wan, Cody, Padme, and Ahsoka go to the Jedi temple, to the Jedi Council (the twins, like the rest of the children, were left aboard the Negotiator in the care of their extended family). They speak of the planet where they had been trapped and the lives they grew there. 

Padme took the time to apologize to the Council, formally, for the violation of their beliefs that she and Anakin had perpetrated by marrying as they had.  She could admit that while Anakin had not told her of any Jedi traditions for marriage, or really any traditions they might be violating by marrying, she had made no effort to check either. 

As an afterthought Obi Wan told the Jedi Council about the chips deteriorating, but that they did not appear to be doing anything anyway (To which every other member went: “What chips?”). Upon being asked Obi Wan calls for Helix to get a chip or two out of the storage closet they had been forgotten in. Which was then promptly handed to people with specialized equipment for decoding bio mechanical chips. 

After the latest round of sedation has worn off Padme, Obi Wan, and Ahsoka go to see Anakin. They are told that before Anakin can be released he needs to be assessed by three different mind healers. They go intending to tell Anakin of the twins. Padme also goes with the intent to test the waters about the possibility of separating (She does not know that her and Ahsoka dating would go anywhere, nor are either of them even thinking of it right now, but even leaving that aside Padme has realized that her and Anakin are not healthy together). Things do not go quite as intended. 

At first Anakin is so happy to see all three of them, he exclaims over Ahsoka being so grown up (she is now 24, now older than Anakin). It rapidly becomes clear that Anakin expected he would be released immediately, now that they were back.  There was a small blip, a frown and a strange heaviness when he realized that all three of them were backing the healers that he needed to be assessed.  Anakin also did not like how close Ahsoka and Obi Wan were, oh before they vanished he would joke about Ahsoka being their shared padawan, but he preferred it when Obi Wan’s lessons unintentionally reinforced the idea that Ahsoka was better off with Anakin than any other Jedi.

There were a few moments when he could speak to Padme alone, and the way he spoke left  Padme feeling cold. There was nothing overt but it all reinforced a possessiveness that Padme realized she did not want in her or her children's lives. They leave without telling Anakin about the children. 

Padme tries six more times to go and talk to Anakin about separating. At best he acts like he does not hear or understand her words.  At worst he starts ranting about Obi Wan trying to steal his wife and needing to be sedated. 

Regretfully, and with the backing of both the Jedi and the 212th community, Padme starts the process to get a divorce. Nabooian traditions insist that a couple that wants to divorce must meet with a Nabooian marriage counselor first, to see if reconciliation is possible.  Setting this up takes several months as, upon being informed of proceedings Anakin had a second breakdown. His connection to the Force was such that the Jedi needed to block the connection lest he become very destructive. Only the Force Blockers left him not coherent enough to attend the session with Counselor. In the end the Jdi built a special room just to block Anakin’s specific connection to the force for them to meet in.  Traditionally the divorcing couple meets at least 5 times before permission is given to divorce.  It took one meeting for the Counselor to grant Padme her divorce. 

The 501st had not been assigned a new general by the time the 212th returned, and Ahsoka was almost ready for knighthood.  She took command of the 501st for a total of 4 months, it was too uncomfortable and too much like she was replacing Anakin (made weirder by the fact she still wanted to date his soon to be ex wife  and was helping to raise his children).  In the end Obi Wan ended up taking direct command of the legion, with Cody taking the lead of the 212th.  This also made everyone uncomfortable, thankfully the war ended three months after that (the revelation of what the chips did had the council contemplating finding the planet that 212th had been stranded on).

Palpatine had been indiscrete around someone who he had assumed would back his power play for an Empire. To be fair, in another world that family would have been high ranking imperial with very human centric tendencies. 

Palpatine had not expected a Lieutenant of the Galactic Navy, member of the 212h or not, to whip out a slug thrower and shoot at a party when Palpatine had admitted to knowing about the slave chip in the clones' heads. 

To be fair, neither did the Lieutenant.

[kenobster]

The thing about Anakin (in prequel trilogy movies) is that he actually is a really good person by default. He is a war hero for a reason; he cares so deeply and unconditionally. Sure, he's a little careless sometimes and a little impulsive. He makes mistakes and bad calls and sometimes he needs to get his hormones under fucking control. But overall, he's very much trying to do a good job. He listens to feedback, he asks for advice, and he apologizes and tries to improve when he realizes he's wrong. 

Really, he only ever crosses unforgivable lines when two very specific criteria are met: (1) when the most sensitive points of his trauma are being put under an immense amount of pressure; (2) when his support system, for whatever reason, is absent. 

And even when those two criteria are met, he still struggles not to cross those lines as hard as he can for as long he can--until he eventually just snaps under the pressure.

Example #1, the Sand People massacre. Long before going to Tatooine, Anakin’s trauma points were already under an extreme amount of pressure. He was having nightmares about his mom--reminding him of his childhood as a slave and of the slavery in which he’d left her behind. When Anakin does go to Tatooine, his support system consists solely of a girl whom he does like and does trust but whom he doesn’t know very well. Old wounds continue to reopen as he takes his first steps into Mos Epsa and speaks with Watto, a being who owned and abused him. Anakin has no reason whatsoever to think Watto isn’t the orchestrator of his mother’s torment. But does he kill, dismember, or otherwise attack Watto? No. He remains polite. So polite, in fact, that it’s unsettling.

When he hears about his mother's capture and torture from the Lars family, Anakin is, suffice to say, upset. To rescue her, he goes alone (no support system). Even with his mother actively being brutalized (trauma), Anakin does not arrive with the intention of violence. He does not massacre the entire village in an attempt to rescue her. His plan is clearly to sneak in unnoticed, grab her, and sneak out. Even after seeing her strung up, at no point does his plan seem to change… Until she dies. In that moment, his mom, the epitome of his failure to free all the slaves, has just taken her last breath. He is completely alone. His mom has practically been slaughtered. His mom. Thus, his trauma hits a breaking point, and his usual support system is out of sight. 

He snaps. 

It is his choice, yes, but it is the result of a decade of abuse and generational trauma. It is also very much a mistake/accident… In other words, it is not an example of his true values and beliefs; it is an example of their temporary absence.*

*Evidence supporting this is in the scene with the line “to be angry is to be human,” but that’s a subject that needs its own whole ass post. I’ll link it later if I ever write it.

Example #2, the Jedi massacre. There are so many posts on the subject already that I'm not going to spend time detailing every single instance in which Palpatine isolates Anakin or manipulates Anakin into isolating himself. But a brief overview: sowing distrust in the Jedi Council, creating a narrative of deceit around the Jedi Order, orchestrating events to get Obi-Wan dead/offworld, and associating the dark side of the Force with Padme’s presence (via suggestions that only a Sith Lord can save her). With that, Anakin's entire support system is crippled. Unlike in AOTC, he is surrounded by loved ones, yes, but they can’t help him. By Palpatine's design, Anakin eventually bars each of them from entry.

Meanwhile, Palpatine is putting his trauma under extreme pressure and manipulating the shit out of him. Starting on the Invisible Hand itself, when Palpatine encourages Anakin to kill Dooku.* The movie explicitly connects this scene to the sand people massacre, which immediately establishes an awakening of old trauma. Wounds reopen, and Palpatine presses on them and he presses on them and he presses on them. Padme’s looming death becomes the symbol of his past trauma (of what he failed to protect and what he did as a result). And through Palpatine’s misinformation campaign, the Jedi become the perpetrators of this trauma, rather than the support system.

*For reasons beyond the scope of this post, I do not consider Count Dooku's murder to be an example of Anakin crossing an unforgivable line. I consider it to be an example of Anakin making a bad call. Even so, one could easily argue that his support system was absent and that his pressure points were being targeted in this scene, too. But I find that argument uninteresting because it doesn't apply imo.

Still, Anakin resists. Still, he tries again and again to retain his ideals. He seeks advice from Yoda. He listens to Obi-Wan's feedback and apologizes. He opens up to Padme. He initially rejects Sith Lord Palpatine. He tries to do the right thing by telling Mace Windu and letting the Council handle things. Because that's who he is--that's his true nature. Anakin is alone in the Council chambers (no support system) when Palpatine taunts him with Padme's inevitable death (trauma). And still, he resists. He races to Palpatine's office, but does he immediately kill, dismember, or otherwise attack Mace Windu? No. Even as Palpatine continues to press on his trauma (“I have the power to save the one you love!”), Anakin tries to reason with Mace. However much he is rationalizing the truth to his benefit, he is still trying to get out of this trap. He even admits the core of it in the end: “I need him!” Even then, even when Mace rightly goes for the killing blow, Anakin is still resisting! He attacks, he dismembers, but he doesn't kill. He makes an impulsive, ill-thought-out, almost reflexive decision (supported by the horror in the line “What have I done?!”). It’s as if Palpatine has shoved him right up against that unforgivable line, and Anakin is using his last inch of space to not teeter over it. 

Then Palpatine kills Mace Windu. In his mind, Anakin has nothing left after that. In his mind, he is responsible for getting Mace killed (trauma), and he doesn’t see how the Jedi can possibly forgive him (no support system). In his mind, his wife is dying (trauma), and he is alone in the presence of his abuser (no support system).

He snaps.

Unlike in AOTC, this does not happen by accident. These events were deliberately and continuously manufactured by a Sith Lord with an agenda. Palpatine directs Anakin’s explosion onto the Jedi Order, where Anakin compounds upon his trauma with more murder and more death. He becomes isolated to Palpatine's manipulations by killing (or enraging) his entire support system.

Afterward, Palpatine has all of the fuel he needs to make Anakin snap and snap and snap, over and over, for a very long time.

Who is to blame is such a boring, irrelevant question when we have such a fascinating character. The prequel trilogy gives us a complicated villain who is simultaneously the executor of such horrific violence and also the boy who wanted to free all the slaves. A villain who kills a part of himself every time he kills another. A villain who is so horrifically victimized even whilst he commits his terrible crimes. And because it's fiction (aka the victims of his actions are narrative elements, not people), I'm allowed to feel unashamedly devastated for him. I’m allowed to see the truth: that Darth Vader is only the suit he wears. The mask concealing the good person underneath. The Jedi Order was Anakin’s family, too, and you should feel sorry that he lost them. You should feel sorry for the way he is abused in ROTS. Darth Vader doesn’t represent who Anakin is or what he believes, and blame is irrelevant to this truth.

Because support systems matter. They matter to people who have gone through trauma. Yes, sometimes they are even the ONLY difference between the choice to do good and the choice to do bad. Sometimes, all that is necessary to prevent a heinous crime is to help them before they snap. I think people are uncomfortable with Anakin because that kind of helplessness is a really hard thing to admit. It's not fun to realize that you could have made similar choices if you had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong person. Research has shown people greatly prefer to attribute their accomplishments to their own actions and choices in life. It makes sense. The realization that external factors may have played a role in everything we take pride in is scary--but this fear leads us to the bias that we could never become Darth Vader. Even if we were raised as a slave, even if our loved ones were taken from us, even if our sense of reality was being manipulated and distorted--somehow we would not be broken. We would remain Anakin Skywalker.

It's a comforting fantasy for people who have done nothing wrong.

As someone who is human, someone who has made mistakes and bad calls and who regrets the times I might have crossed lines, I find a lot more comfort in the message George Lucas provides. The prequel trilogy is a story about the harm someone (anyone) can do if they're not careful. Anakin becomes Darth Vader not because he’s innately evil but rather because he’s under extreme pressure and no one is able to help him. In contrast, the original trilogy offers compassion and an opportunity for self-forgiveness. Darth Vader chooses to become Anakin simply because one person looked at what he'd done and said, "Stop. This isn't you." In the face of how helpless and dangerous every one of us can be, I find Anakin’s story to be really meaningful, and I wish more of us appreciated it.

[palfriendpatine66]

Home

For Anakin, home wasn’t a place.

He had learned, far too early, that where he and his mother lived wasn’t for them to decide. Where they slept at night, or even whether they slept, was dictated the whims of another. There was nothing that truly belonged to them, nothing that fell completely under their own control.

Not even their bodies.

The only things that belonged to Anakin were things that couldn’t be seen or held and so they couldn’t be taken from him. His thoughts and his feelings, his memories and his dreams: those were all he could lay claim to.

And so home wasn’t a place. It wasn’t even a person, because they could be taken too. Anakin had plans to fix that as soon as he could; he was determined that with enough scavenged parts and repairs he would be able to buy his mother’s freedom, and his own as well.

But until then, home was a feeling.

It was the embrace of his mother’s arms.

A gentle warmth, like the soft swaddle of a blanket, so different from the blisterning, burning heat of the twin suns.

Home was comfort.

A temporary shield from the harsh world of harsh words and the harsh reality that his life wasn’t his own.

Home was a peaceful quiet that replaced the building growls of the smoldering dragon that wrapped around his heart and howling winds of cutting sand.

A wordless lullaby that reminded some part of him of a time when all he knew was the safety he felt held close against his mother’s chest, the love that he heard in every beat of her heart.

It was made up of whispered words of support and strength, of love and hope.

But in the cold silent void of space, Anakin had never felt further from home. He had been given a choice - not much of a choice but there was always a choice - the choice between home and the promise of freedom and the future he had always wanted.

Almost.

It wasn’t like he’d dreamt of leaving all feelings of home behind and walking away from everything and everyone he knew, not knowing if he would ever return.

The stars flew by in a blur that brought him further and further from home, and as the distance grew the dragon that lurked inside of him sank its claws into his heart. Away from the blaze of the twin suns its grip wasn’t the fiery rage that he had felt slowly burning within him, growing with each injustice that fanned the flames.

Here in the cold of space it was the icy grip of an all encompassing fear. A paralyzing terror that was slowly eating at him with no regard to the fact that he was still living and breathing, like a sarlacc lurking in its pit of doom from which there was no escape. It would surely consume him.

“Are you alright?”

Padmé spoke softly. Her gentle hands wrapped a thick cloak around his shivering shoulders, his first offering of warmth since leaving his home.

“Many things will change when we reach the capital Ani. My caring for you will always remain.”

“I care for you too. Only I…”

Anakin couldn’t finish as he fought to hold back his tears, the icy bite of the dragon’s claws freezing the words in his throat.

“You miss your mother.”

Padmé knew without having to be told. She extended her arms and pulled him into a soft hug that felt all wrong - the silky fabric of her robes cool and slippery against his skin instead of the rough spun warmth of his mothers dress - but it was comfort all the same.

The feeling thawed the icy clutches of the dragon just enough to ease the tightness in his chest so that he could take a full breath. A small spark lit within him once more.

It wasn’t home.

But it was hope.

[ahamkara-apologist]

Fuck it. Big Taniks headcanon dump go

-One of the last remaining pureblood Eliksni from House Scar.

-As a result, he sports the phenotype from Scar: a dark red-brown striped carapace with a boxy, viper-like muzzle and heavy jowls, yellow eyes, very thick, blood-red setae with hooked barbs on each strand (where its still present), large mandibular teeth, and prominent chitin spikes on his carapace. If he was born on Riis, he would have had horns like a horny toad- many short, sharply triangular chitin spikes ringing his jaws, cranial crest, and eye spikes. As is, the remnants of those can still somewhat be seen in the way his carapace overlaps each other, but not to the extent it should. Body type is more on the burly side, but he grew up malnourished so he's thinner than he should be, even after getting as much ether as he could ever want after the fall of his house. Has 8 eyes, which his mother took to auspiciously mean he was born lucky (as he was lucky to be born at all): really this luck is more of a curse at this point, but Taniks doesn't like to think about that all too much

-However, it should be noted that most of these features have mostly been completely lost to scarring/mechanization. He's kind of like the Anakin Skywalker of the Destiny 2 universe: handsome to scarred mess, minus the fascism

-While he broke his House, the culture he was reared in still informed some of his behavior: Scar used to be full of honourable, ritualistic fighters and healers in the old days of Riis, known for their strict adherence to moral code and their technological advancements, but devolved into brutal violence post-Whirlwind. (By 'ritualistic fighters', I mean that they used to do elaborate swordplay dances to settle debates that House Judgement alone could not appease, and that this ability with blades was secondary to the fact that they were doctors first and foremost. The idea was that a healer would willingly do less harm than another Eliksni, hence why they were often chosen to be fighters as well)

-Post-Whirlwind, particularly brutish rituals arose to desensitize their members to violence, which got worse and worse as Scar sought to subvert their old healer ways and lean hard into being warriors. By the time he hatched, the only remnants of House Scar's culture as healers was that they were better at patching up their wounded than the other Houses

-How is this relevant to Taniks? Well...in Taniks's case, he was born to a drekh that was too low-ranking to be allowed the luxury of reproduction. He was allowed to live after he was found out, but when he grew old enough to fight, he was dragged before the Kell and told that had to prove his right to be survive through two trials: one, to be docked and fight as a wretch, or two, to kill his own mother and become Captain immediately- the choice his mother begged him to take. So he honoured her wishes, and killed her

-His kell double-docked him anyways.

-This prompted Taniks to go into the frenzied rage he was known for, where he made himself new arms and killed the kell, breaking House Scar. His disdain for the brutish ways of the House system + his hatred of kells continues to modern day, with the exception being Eramis, whom he fought beside, and who earned his trust by never trying to lord over him or demanded a house oath to keep him in line

-Unfortunately, breaking his house pretty much sent him into exile and marked him as an unstable traitor for the rest of his life, leading to social ostracization. Taniks didn't care personally, but since this happened while he was still very young (+ the fact that eliksni are deeply social beings, perhaps even moreso than humans), it did permanently fuck up his mental and social development. He's only half-socialized at best, and struggles intensely with navigating Eliksni society outside of dominance plays and combat rules. Granted, he doesn't particularly care about any of that stuff, but when he does, his own ineptitude can send him into a rage

-It also affected his physical development as well. Because the Eliksni function like lobsters in that they only grow more fertile as they age, and bc I hc them to be sequential hermaphrodites (ie, able to change sex as needed, bc traditionally the kells were the most fit breeding adults so being able to change sex to maximize compatibility was key), eliksni puberty is a long, drawn-out event that's heavily influenced by social and environmental cues. Taniks's isolation during his early teenage years ended up with him stuck as a simultaneous hermaphrodite, which is not really how Eliksni are supposed to work (they can live relatively normally, but their fecundity is drastically reduced in both egg and sperm production, and they suffer from health conditions as a result). Again, he doesn't really care bc he's used to it, but the hormone imbalances certainly didn't help with his mood or chronic pain problems

-Bc oh yeah, he's essentially got Eliksni PCOS. He's spayed himself at least twice to try to alleviate the symptoms + sterilize himself, but since he's not a doctor, he missed tissue both times, and he grew them back both times- the second, entirely without his knowing

-His identified gender is also a clusterfuck to match, though that's entirely a Taniks thing, and isn't necessarily tied to his physical sex organs. Most Eliksni just default to their equivilant of masculine pronouns for him bc that's what he had when he killed his kell, and Taniks never really cared enough to bother correcting them. The only Eliksni who knew he was genderfluid was Eramis (who likely explained genderfuckery to him to begin with) and maybe Atraks, who was also genderfuckery in her own special way. He never revealed this to others because with the Eliksni, I imagine being trans is seen as more of a soul-state that the body doesn't need to mimic, and the last thing that Taniks wants is for random people to know his soul-state.

-Because of his sex alignment and his attempts at spaying himself, he is entirely convinced that he's infertile. He Is Not.

-Part of the reason he wants to believe this is is because he's terrified of children, and is terrified at the thought of making any children. Kids are a wildcard, and and they trigger nurturing instincts in him that he has no frame of reference for dealing with. Pair that with the fact that his mother had him in secret, hid him away from the rest of the House, and often told him how dangerous his conception was to her, and you get Taniks

-Intense distrust/fear of doctors. You will not voluntarily see him in someone else's medbay if it kills him. The one he has on his own ketch is specifically set up to be fully automated, and whatever the machines don't do, he does himself. It's impressive given his lack of official training, but still very crude and slapdash, and his houseless, suspicious nature means that there's not many painkillers on board

-Intensely intelligent with a very keen eye for detail: would have been an amazing scribe in another life. Writes poetry in his free time that's actually really damn good, though nobody else gets to read it. Most of his prosthetics were engineered by himself, building off of dataplans he picked up himself, and are genuinely innovative and high-tier tech even though they're made of scrap metal

-(On a related note, I don't think he actually lost his legs when he fused himself to a shank- I think he was already missing most of his legs bar his thighs to begin with, and what he did was just hotwire his prosthetic connections into the guts of the shank to control it. It would have been quicker and easier than the alternative)

-Became a mercenary because the puzzle + thrill of a hunt gives him an adrenaline high like nothing else, and because if there's one thing he's good at, it's killing. Guardians are his favorite prize because they're the most dangerous game, forcing him to use all of his skills and all of his strength- though the fact that he still hasn't killed the Young Wolf off for good is something that pisses him off immensely

-Despite having the same level of socialization as a rabid racoon, he's still able to navigate the Eliksni honour system pretty well, based off of his knowledge of it alone. He also has a strong sense of honour and opinions about what constitutes as a fun/fair fight- he just doesn't stick to them if they're a hindrance, and thinks that the old ways of the Houses are bullshit. He's cunning and practical above emotional...in most cases

-Has sensory issues. He thinks he grew out of it, but the reality of the situation is just that he's reached a point of chronic pain that's so bad that he just doesn't notice it anymore. Unfortunately it is hereditary

-Deeply suspicious and hateful of most Eliksni, *extremely* loyal when/if he's won over. Very few have managed that: Eramis, Phylaks, and Kridis are some of the few who did. Everyone else he either ignores or tries to goad into a fight/toy with their pride, because he thinks most of his species is full of uptight pricks. Dude would make waves with the anarchist movement on Earth

-Not religious in the slightest. Get that Great Machine bullshit outta here

-Very chatty when his emotions are running high, near-silent and broody when not. If you're talking to him and he's just grunting back, that's a good indicator that his patience is rapidly dwindling and he's going to snap-roar at you soon. In that case, it's best to back off quickly, because he tends to not fuck around with warning signals very much, and he does not have any degree of bite inhibition

-Has a VERY strong Drift + Scar accent that is essentially the equivalent to Space Texas, but he masks it as much as possible when he can because lots of the old kells tend to look down at that sort of thing, and it pisses him off when people do. And, again, it's a part of himself that he doesn't want others to know about

-Probably would have been a hopeless romantic if his upbringing wasn't so harsh. As it is, he's a very bitter fuck who scoffs at the notion of love, and doesn't think that he's capable of it or that anyone would ever be interested in him (while he's shared a nest with Eramis during some of his seasons, that was entirely a platonic endeavor based on mutual trust + a need to be with someone who both of them knew they WOULDN'T ever fall in love with). While he claims this is just him being realistic, asking about it is a good way of getting him to grow violent real quick

-Paranoia? YES. He's cocky, but he's not stupid. He's got all sorts of traps rigged on his ketch, and all sorts of backup plans for every different scenario you can think of out there. He's cunning and clever and a nightmare to try to get the drop on

-That being said he is the type of person who will deny things until he can no longer afford to if they're something he doesn't want to acknowledge, so there's a fatal flaw of his right there

-Rules the few crews he keeps with fear and is comfortable with that. He likes the smell of it, and it means that nobody is going to look down their noses at him

-Cannot cook. Do not ask him to cook. Do not eat what he offers you. He prefers his meat raw, but he's not at all picky from years growing up chronically hungry, and will eat anything and everything, including stuff that's rotten or not technically edible. His teeth are really fucked up and lots of them grow in snaggled now after he's repeatedly broken and regrown them trying to eat things he really shouldn't. If it fills his belly and enables him to survive, that's good enough for Taniks

-His molts are no longer true molts, as the amount of scarring and prosthetics he has going on makes it impossible for him to go through a full, proper molt. He's usually got old carapace flaking off of him in bits, and that just adds to the whole 'old machinery/rot/death/pain' stink he has going on at all times. He's eternally itchy on top of everything else, and that does not improve his mood one bit

-Has been forcefully bathed and groomed by Eramis at least once. Hates to admit how much he likes it

-Has a propensity for hoarding/collecting things, both as trophies and also just as oddities. He's got an entire trophy room, an armoury that can put some Houses to shame, and a whole load of human-based odds and curios that he's hoarded over the years scavenging. Among them is a whole bunch of shiny old car parts and stained glass, among...other things. He is one of the very few Eliksni who know how to do taxidermy, self-taught from old records he hoarded, and has a collection of stuffed Sol animals tucked away in the corner somewhere. Other Eliksni and humans have been off the table...so far

NSFW:

-Externally he has the hemipenes (kind of) of a male, internally he has a very reduced broodpouch (male) + the sperm storage tubules and ovarian ducts of a female. His sperm is barely viable, and he cannot take or produce many eggs without causing himself severe pain during the duration of the experience. His huge size has mitigated a lot of this, as now most Eliksni cannot stuff him full enough to cause such pain NOR do they want to fuck him long enough to induce him to ovulate, but that's also unlucky bc that means he can (technically) still reproduce, even if he himself doesn't believe anything that comes out of him is viable

-He's proportionate to his size, maybe a little bit more on the thick side, which ofc means that he's fucking huge

-His right hemipene has been cut off halfway down the shaft, while his left has been scarred, and is pulled into an odd sideways bend towards the middle as a result. The right is still semi-functional in that it can get erect and isn't blocked off from the scar tissue, but the muscle is still damaged enough to not have much control over it so it just oozes relentlessly whenever he gets aroused. He's a leaky boi

-The left hemipenis also functions as an ovipositor (which, in females, is just a fused hemipenis with a wider passage to allow eggs through). The wider passage further increases his drippy factor. Don't mate with Taniks if you don't like it sloppy and wet...and rough. Taniks goes hard, fast, and has no real inhibitions outside of what his partners have to beat into him. Anything goes, and he likes sex to be a fight just like he likes everything else in his life. He's also very very bitey, though he at least has the sense to not make any marks that last...most of the time

-That doesn't mean he always has to dominate or top, though; he's actually a size queen who likes to be forced to obey when the mood hits him. The issue is that Eliksni who are big enough to actually give him that that are vanishingly few and far between, so the poor guy doesn't always get the same rough treatment that he doles out even though he's into it

-Very chatty during sex. Has a bad habit of running his mouth saying all kinds of dirty talk, with most of it being degrading for the purpose of goading his partner into snapping at him. If you're not into that sort of thing, it's best to just tune him out, bc he's mostly just doing it for himself and/or on autopilot than actually trying to get you off with it. The only time he goes quiet is if he's got to deposit eggs, and that's out of a mixture of instinct and because it's often paired with a non- fun sort of pain for him

-(Oviposition should not hurt either party, as it is an essential part of the mating process for Eliksni, but again- this is Taniks. His body never works as it should. That doesn't mean that he doesn't derive pleasure from it, but it's a weird mix of sensations for him, and he doesn't like it one bit)

-Remember the hoarding thing? He has a Bad Dragon collection. As well as a fuckload of other monster dildos; he just happened to find one of their factories to raid once. He's both very amused by them and also a big fan of using them liberally when he's in heat...though he skips out on the ovipositor models

-Probably would do sex work if it would give him glimmer, as he figures that he's already selling his body through mercenary work to begin with. As it stands, nobody is interested, so Taniks's OnlyFans is still off the table for now, alas