#his eyes still haven’t gotten adjusted from the dark chambers of the facilities

[nokkayy]

sunlight, part 2

closeup and textless version

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (6)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: Sorry if I haven’t been uploading as quick as I used to. I’m not in a good place right now mentally. I’ve had random crying episodes that rooted from last night’s breakdown, I’m stuck dealing with overbearing parents who don’t understand and can’t be bothered to take in the time to listen to their kid. I had to look for that from my friends who really know and understand me. It’s really hard. Because what do you do when your boomer, overly-traditional parents misinterpret your artworks and then drag you down for it? But I’m trying my best to fight it off and be better, so I can still give you guys good stories. I’ll get through it, I’ll be better eventually. So, if my posting frequency seems slow, I hope you understand. Thank you for your continuous support! You guys are the greatest. Love, Veron.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 | Previous: Part 5 | Next: Part 7 | Masterlist

6 of ?

In the span of three weeks, you and the Second Brother were in constant observation by the medical droids—encoding and then relaying their findings to the doctors who occasionally visited you every other day. A medical droid reports that you might open your eyes perhaps at the end of the week. The same goes for the Second Brother, despite his severe injuries and that tedious surgical operation that he underwent.

When the third and a last week came, you did open your eyes. The Bacta-infused water stung your eyes and you realize you’re submerged—by instinct, you held your breath, unaware that you have a medical breather on until you bit on its silicon mouthpiece, you felt the rather uncomfortable armbands on your pruning skin. Through the glass of the vat you’re encased in, a medical droid hovers in front of you.

In confusion, your heart rate spiked—reflecting on the heart monitor just right next to the tank—but the droid wasn’t alarmed. It deduced it as a natural, conscious bodily response. The medical droid tapped hurriedly on its dapatad; shortly after, a doctor comes rushing into the ward, he approaches the vat to look at you.

Peering again through the glass, you can see through your squinting—and already stinging—eyes that the doctor’s mouth is moving, but the bubbling of the substances shrouded your hearing from any outside noise.

“Prepare to drain the patient’s Bacta vat,”

A loud rumble echoed in the back of your ears, your head jerked up to the source of the sound and saw the water level lowering. As the substance fell to the level of your breasts, you mentally prepare yourself to plant your feet on the floor and your palms to the walls of the tank once you needed to balance and support yourself.

Finally, the tank has been emptied—the remaining liquid gurgled under your feet as it disappeared into the drain. The glass whirred as it retracted into its round, metal frame and then the nurses helped your balance yourself. Their faint whispers of encouragement rang indistinctly in your ears.

“Hello there, can you hear me well?” asked the doctor.

“I… I suppose,” you groaned, hooking your grip on the nurse’s arm. You looked at your surroundings. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a medical facility, in Mons Golotha,”

“Mons Golotha? Where is that?”

“In the Outer Rim. Don’t worry, you’re safe here. We’ve been helping you recover,”

“It looks like you had quite a dangerous brush with death there,” the nurse added.

Still confused, you surveyed the room further—there were more droids manning the computers and the machines. It appears that you’re the only patient in this room. You blinked several times until your eyes adjusted to the light pooling in the dull, gray ward. Something didn’t sit right with you, but your waking up gave you a bit of a hangover that you can’t pinpoint it. Little did you know that the Second Brother is still submerged in his own tank in his own room and that you are in Inquisitor—rather, Imperial—territory.

The Inquisitors were informed in the comfort of their temporary lodges that you’ve finally awakened. The Seventh Sister smirked with satisfaction, as if her work given by Grand Inquisitor is close to its completion. At her mercy, she allowed you until tomorrow to rest, after that you will be sedated and transported to   the main fortress; when she finished hearing the report, she resumed her meditation in peace.

You stayed in bed, fed with three square meals, regularly checked for your vitals, temperature, blood pressure and the like—this was your entire routine for a day and half.

The Seventh Sister’s given timetable is due. As a way to not startle you, the doctor was very subtle on your sedation in the guise of a treatment.

“Alright, [Y/N], the vapor that’ll flow out of this mask when you wear it will dissolve the smoke and particles that may have polluted your lungs when you inhaled the smoke from your accident,”

You nodded, “Okay.”

You lied down flat on your back first, then the doctor gingerly placed the transparent mask, then the medical droid switched on the machine at the doctor’s command. It growled and the vapor hissed through the tube up to your nose and mouth; the sound sort of lulled you to boredom, you thought that it was a hypnotizing sound that you slowly let your eyelids drop and lean your head further into the pillow.

“Just a few more milliliters until she’s fully sedated,” the doctor mouthed to himself, watching you lie perfectly still in your bed.

Ten minutes later, the medical droid’s readings indicate that you’re now asleep.

“Vitals are still at a normal and optimum level, she is amenable for transfer,” the medical droid added.

Through his own comlink, the doctor contacted the Seventh Sister.

“Is she really unconscious now?”

“Yes, she won’t be able to recall a single thing before the sedation,”

“Good. Oversee the preparations for the transfer,”

The doctor nodded in compliance and the Seventh Sister switched off the transmission on her end. He immediately did as he was told and then you were transferred from your ward bed to the hovering gurney. It was a warden who escorted you to the main fortress, the apparatus used to administer the sedative is still attached to you as they wheeled you through the corridors.

—–

Eventually, you’ve arrived to the prison block. At the end of it is the torture chamber especially designated for you. The Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother were waiting inside the chamber, they turned to the door when they heard it whir and found you still as a rock in that gurney.

“Put here in,” the Mirialan ordered.

The warden pulled the gurney closer to the torture chair—with its restraints wide open, like an animal’s maw waiting to snap shut once its prey has fallen in—and put you to the machine. The restraints clamped shut when the warden stepped back, the metal clanged so loud that it startled him, making his shoulders jump. The warden was dismissed immediately and left the chamber.

The sedative wore off by the minute, the intensity of the light shone differently than what you recalled, and now you find yourself unable to move—you flinch your wrists and ankles to find polished, silver handcuffs that are three inches thick banding around them. Leaning in front of you is the mechanical limb of the torture chair with panels running with electrical current; you attempt to sink yourself farther into the bed, and the cold metal stung through your bleach-white tunic that the nurses dressed on you. Your heartbeat spiked again, the Inquisitors can sense the fear oozing out of you.

The Seventh Sister stepped out of the shadows, hands tucked behind her back.

“Oh don’t bother fighting it off, it’s not like you have the strength to break out of that,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, struggling to recognize her.

“You’re an Inquisitor, but I… I’ve never seen you before,”

“Who I am to you is not important. You, on the other hand, know something we don’t—and we’d like you to let us in on that,”

“Oh I bet you do,” you spat.

The Seventh Sister liked your snark, she’ll give you that, but she didn’t like other people outclassing her. One flick of her finger and the Stormtrooper operating the machine flipped a switch; the limb with the electrical panels lowered closer to you until only an inch hangs between you and the bright, violet cracks.

In the next second, a jolt courses throughout your entire body. The metal cuffs on your wrists and ankles amplified the voltage and doubled the pain of the shock. You didn’t even get to take a deep breath, you were simply taken by surprise. The limb then retracted, returning to its original distance from you.

“She’s got a kick to it, doesn’t she? You’re gonna have more than just a kick if you don’t tell us what we want to hear,”

“I’ve had worse beatings!” you winced.

“I’ll bet you have, [Y/N],”

It didn’t matter how the Mirialan knew your name. She proceeded with your questions that you retorted with the perfect opposite of it—sarcasm.

“Tell us where the rebels are hiding, and we’ll let you go scot-free. We’ll even give you a headstart so you can warn your friends,”

“The last time someone gave me a bargain like that…” you panted, recovering from the shock. “They found my lightsaber sticking through their ribs.”

The Seventh Sister sighed.

This is gonna be a long day… but I don’t mind. She thought.

Hours dragged on as you kept yourself mum, filling in the blanks of their questions with sarcasm or straight-up refusals. But for every time you decided to keep your mouth shut about the location of the rebels who staged the bombing of their outpost in Ulfin, you were returned with a shock of the torture chair—the voltage became more powerful and lethal than the last.

“Impressive,” the Fifth Brother commented. “Not many can withstand this many hours, let alone that high of a voltage, in the chair.”

“Perhaps, there’s a better way of persuading you,” the Mirialan chided.

From her pocket, she fished out her holodisk. She thumbs the button and out comes a figurine-sized projection of Cal. The faintest, sharpest inhale from you wasn’t spared from the Inquisitor’s keen sense of hearing. She smirked and glanced at you.

“Oh, you know him, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, but it already feels like the Seventh Sister has seen through your tough-faced façade.

“The longer you stay in this chair, the more likely my troops are capable of finding him. Who knows? I could bag a complete package if he was siding with the rebels the whole time. Definitely likely.”

The rage rooting from the pain and the Seventh Sister’s taunting flared in your body. The Mirialan could almost feel the blaze of that anger pouring out of you. She catches a whiff of it and was intrigued.

Your body impulsively leaned away from the backrest and strained yourself to get at least an inch closer to the Seventh Sister, but you’re nowhere even near six inches in front of her.

“IF YOU DO SO MUCH AS PUT A FINGERNAIL ON HIS HEAD, I’LL MAKE SURE YOU GET TWENTY TIMES THE PAIN YOU’RE GIVING ME NOW!!”

“Oh, there we go. Yes, use that hate, that anger!” the sheer adrenaline rush caused the Seventh Sister to slam her fist against the wall of the operating computer. “TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!!”

“I…” you hissed. “Will never… TELL YOU!!”

The Seventh Sister eased her shoulders.

“So be it,” she jerked her head to the operator. “Again! And don’t stop until I say so!!”

Your shallow, rapid breathing didn’t save your lungs to overcome the pain sent by a thousand to ten thousands volts coursing through your body. Your throat strained as you cry in agony, your fingers twisted and curled as the tendrils of electricity violently pricked the nerves, your body thrashed in all angles trying to alleviate the pain but it’s as though several daggers entered and left your body repeatedly.

Your head jerks back, unable to withstand any more of the gradual pain the longer it dragged on. The only thing that filled your eyes was the lamp that hung overhead and the cracks of compacted lightning from the electrical panels. You don’t know how much your heart can take. At the Seventh Sister’s mercy, she shot her hand up—signaling to stop—the Stormtrooper obeyed; it only was a ten-second breather, and she asked again.

“Where are they hiding?”

“In a Bantha’s arse,” you gasped.

Seventh Sister scoffed, she snapped her fingers and the torture resumed. Your mischievous snickering at your own joke was instantly replaced by a wail of pain. The longer you remained in that torture chair, the more the Inquisitors saw your rage and hate crawling out of you—and they relished each waking minute the darkness seeps out of you.

In the midst of your screams echoing across the entire chamber, the Seventh Sister stepped back into the shadows to join the Fifth Brother. She stood on the tips of her toes to reach his height, close enough for him to hear her, and she whispered.

“She will be a good Inquisitor.”

There was no worded response, but the Fifth Brother smiled in agreement. The violet light of the electrical current flashing and pooling over the surface of their faces as they watched you at the mercy of the torture chair.

[clareguilty]

Kinktober Prompt 6

Soldier 76 | Sex Pollen, Power Imbalance Word count: 2700 (look I know this is so fucking long) Rating: Explicit | No Warnings

"I don't think there's anything here," you sighed, turning to where Soldier 76 was patrolling the rows of abandoned, dust-covered desks. "Without power, we don't have access to anything that isn't on paper." You hadn't seen so much as a brochure since setting foot into the laboratory, so it was highly unlikely that there was any printed material in the building.

"We don't have access to anything on the drives; that's true." Soldier absently kicked a desk chair, watching it roll a few feet across the tile. "But it's not the end of the world that the power is out."

You cocked your head, trying to figure out what he meant. He was testing you. It had only been a few weeks since you started accompanying him out into the field, and he kept you on your toes, always quizzing you about procedure or strategy or whatnot.

The lab was abandoned and secluded, powered by a renewable grid that had gone out years ago. Atlas Research had been a leading scientific effort during the Omnic Crisis, but in the years following, they had slipped under the radar. Years of unreported research took place in a small, well-protected lab in Scandinavia. Until one day, everything went silent.

Athena had found the lab during a satellite scan and reported it to Winston; he had assigned Soldier to check it out and report back. Soldier had brought you along.

You looked around the room, trying to figure out what Soldier had noticed that you hadn't. It was a pretty standard research facility. Frosted glass panes let in the smallest amount of sunlight from outside. There wasn't much that stood out to you -- lab equipment and airlock chambers, a field of low desks across the main room, biometric locks… Biometric locks.

"The electronic locks are down," you turned to Soldier, a triumphant grin spreading across your face.

"Very good, agent." He nodded and pointed out the doors along the back wall. "Those are most likely specialized labs, we should check them out."

His praise made you flush, and you were thankful that the lab was so dark. You followed Soldier to one of the doors, waiting for his signal as he tested the knob. Sure enough, the lock was disengaged, and he carefully inched the door open.

The room was pitch dark. Soldier adjusted his visor -- probably switching to night vision -- and tentatively stepped inside.

"It's all clear," he called softly after a few seconds. "Do you have a light?"

You tugged a flashlight off your belt and switched it on. The white beam cut through the dust and the darkness as you swept it across the room. It was rather small, but you could see desks all along the walls as well as several cabinets. You began searching the desks while Soldier turned his attention towards the cabinets. You heard the squeak of a hinge and then the clatter of glass as what sounded like dozens of vials tumbled out of the cabinet.

You turned to see Soldier backing away from the countertop. Various solutions were already pooling across the laminate and dripping down to the floor.

"Get out of here," Soldier ordered. You obeyed without question. Who the hell knew what was in those vials.

He followed close behind you shutting the door behind him and dragging you several feet away. His hands were strong and insistent on your shoulders, and you longed for him to hold you longer.

"Nothing spilled on you?" He asked, looking you over.

"No, I'm fine. What about you?"

"I should be okay."

You turned back to the closed door. "What do you think was in those vials?"

"I didn't get the chance to see. They were leaning against the cabinet door, and when I opened it, they all fell out."

"We should find a mask and gloves," you suggested, "I could go check."

Soldier shook his head. “Whatever they were working with in there was chock full of biohazard labels. It isn’t worth the risk. We need to make sure we aren’t contaminated before we do anything else.”

“I’ll run and grab the medkits from the drop ship,” you offered. “We can run some field tests in a few minutes.”

Soldier nodded, and you jogged back through the facility. The drop ship was in a clearing about a half a mile east and you made it there and back in no time. All that conditioning Soldier put you through really paid off.

Backtracking through the corridors of the facility, you were surprised to find the door you had come from closed. When you tried to pushed it open, the handle turned, but something was blocking it from the other side. You knocked on it gently, “Soldier 76, Sir? Is everything alright in there?”

There was no immediate response, so you shoved against the door with your shoulder. It didn’t budge. “76?” you asked again, worry beginning to creep into your voice.

“Stay where you are, agent.” his voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything? What’s going on?” You pressed against the door again.

“I must have inhaled whatever was in those vials. I’ve been contaminated.” He sounded winded, breathy. His voice was lower and gruffer. “You need to stay out there.”

You took a step back. Contaminated? You didn’t even know what was in those vials.

“How are you feeling? Can you describe your symptoms?” You tore open the medkit, looking for any kind of detox materials.

There was no response from the other side of the door.

“Sir? Are you okay?” you shoved against the door again, throwing your whole weight into it.

“I said stay out there,” Soldier growled. He was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

“I want to help you,” you pleaded. 

The commander made a strangled sound.

“Please,” you begged, “Just let me help.” You were useless if you couldn’t get to him. There was nothing you could do with this damn door between you.

Another choked off sound, “It’s not safe.” 

“I don’t give a damn about my safety. It’s more important that I’m able to help you. I have the medkit right here. Whatever you need, I’ll be able to help.”

Soldier groaned. You banged your fist on the door. He could be dying in there, and you could do nothing to stop it. “Please…” you whimpered, “Just let me in.”

There was the sound of metal scraping on tile, and the door gave way against you. You clambered into the room, dragging the med kit with you.

Soldier was slumped against the wall. You kneeled at his side, reaching out for him. One of his hands snapped up to grab your wrist. He turned to look at you, and you gasped.

“Strike Commander Morrison?”

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. Just let me help you.”

He had already unzipped his jacket, and you could see his broad chest heaving under his shirt. A deep flush reached up to his ears, forehead already beginning to shine with sweat. “What do you need? Does anything hurt?” You gently pressed your fingers into his neck. His pulse was rapid and strong. He grit his teeth and let out a hiss.

“I’m sorry,” you couldn’t resist brushing his silver hair back. In the past few months it had grown longer, and you liked the way it looked. “Let’s see what we have here.” You turned to the medkit. “Would a fever reducer help?” You scanned the labels on everything you could see.

Commander Morrison’s -- you couldn’t believe that the strike commander was still alive, much less that he was dying not a meter away from you -- breathing only grew more labored. Growing more frantic, you tried to tug his jacket over his shoulders and down his arms. The commander shoved you away, strong enough to send you flying backwards. Your head collided with a nearby desk and you whimpered in pain.

The commander’s eyes widened as he realized what he had done.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He started towards you. You could see the conflict in his expression. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“You didn’t mean to throw me into a desk?” you groaned. “Holy fuck are you strong…”

Whatever reservations the commander may have had vanished as he ran to your side. Against his better judgement, he pulled you into his arms. “Look at me,” he ordered, and you blinked up at him.

“I’m good,” you grinned. “How are you?”

“Not any better,” Soldier’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I think it’s best that you head back to the dropship. I’ll check in with you every 45 minutes.”

“No.”

“No?” The commander blinked. God his eyes were gorgeous. “That’s a direct order, agent.”

“Fuck you,” you shrugged. “I’m not leaving here until I know you’re safe.”

Jack’s grip on you tightened. You unconsciously leaned into his chest, breathing in his scent. The room was starting to feel warm, and you wondered if you had gotten a concussion. Surely you hadn’t hit your head that hard?

You breathed in deeply again. Soldier smelled so good. You didn’t even have it in you to be embarrassed as you nuzzled against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” the commander rumbled.

“‘M not sleepy,” you whined.

“Fuck,” Morrison swore under his breath. “I think it’s spreading.”

“What’s spreading?” You couldn’t keep your eyes open. Burying your face into Jack’s chest, you tried to ignore the heat building between your thighs and pooling in your stomach. Now was not the time.

The commander took your face in his hands. Even the leather of his gloves felt like sparks against your skin. “Whatever was in those vials, it’s in the air. You’ve been breathing it in too.”

“What is it?” you slurred. 

“Something strong. I haven’t been this affected by something in years. It’s more powerful than my enhancements, which means you don’t stand a chance.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you grimaced.

“You should go,” Soldier said, but his voice didn’t have the same strength as before.

“I feel safer with you,” you grabbed at his shirt.

A growl ripped from Morrison’s throat. He moved faster than your foggy mind could keep up with, pressing you onto your back and pinning your wrists beneath his gloves. He loomed over you, blue eyes wild with something you had never seen before.

“That’s a bad call, sweetheart,” His scarred lips curled up in a grin before he buried his face in your neck. You gasped at the scrape of stubble against your collarbone. His lips found the curve of your jaw. A curse fell from your lips and your hips bucked upwards. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Your commander would never do something like this.

But you never wanted it to end. Your body was on fire, craving his touch. Months of longing, months of yearning, he was finally touching you.

His lips found yours. You kissed him back with everything you had. He had to know how much you needed this, he had to know that you needed him. “Please, Sir,” you begged.

“I know,” he cooed. “I’m gonna take care of you.” Soldier ground his hips against yours and you felt his erection through his pants. Fuck. You needed it.

He released your hands and you instantly began tearing at your own clothes. Soldier did the same. You threw yourself at him, drowning him in hungry kisses as he shoved his pants off.

Your commander’s hands gripped your ass. You grinned against his neck as he squeezed the softness there. Pressing your chest to his, you scraped your teeth over his pulse. He groaned and pulled your hips to his.

“Sweetheart,” he gasped, “I need you.”

You rolled your hips against his. “It’s okay,” you breathed.

You found yourself on you back again, staring up into Soldier’s eyes as he sank into you. He watched your expression carefully as your lips parted and your eyes rolled back.

“Commander Morrison,” you moaned.

“Jack. Call me Jack.” He grunted as his hips met yours.

“Jack, please fuck me.” You dragged your nails over his shoulder. Your desperation had grown tenfold in a matter of minutes. Whatever was in the air worked fast and it worked well. You could only imagine what Jack was going through, he had been struggling with this far longer than you had.

The commander wasted no time. You were lost in a haze of pleasure and bliss as he began to move his hips. His cock felt so good, long and thick, everything you needed as your desire burned even brighter.

It was absurd, the commander fucking you on the floor of an abandoned lab. He was so forceful, so possessive as he buried himself in you again and again. One of his hands reached down to rub your clit and you cried out and arched your back as an orgasm washed over you all at once. It felt better than anything you had known before, but it did nothing to abate the heat that was coursing through your veins.

Jack seemed to be reaching a peak as well. He shuddered and moaned, teeth catching his bottom lip as he spilled inside you. However, his pace didn’t slow. If anything, his grip on your hip tightened. You dragged him down for a heated kiss, whispering against his lips as he continued to fuck you.

The lab grew darker, and still, you and Jack were insatiable. He threw you over one of the desks and buried his face between your legs. You returned the favor, moaning around his cock as he came down your throat,

It was the dead of night when you finally succumbed to exhaustion. Jack was right there, pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your neck as you drifted away.

When you woke, the barest hint of light was spilling into the room. You sat up, finding Jack’s jacket draped over your otherwise naked self.

Oh shit.

You had fucked the commander. You had fucked Strike Commander Morrison. You groaned as the realization of what had happened began to set in. Glancing around the room, he was nowhere to be found. The rest of his clothes were gone, and yours were folded neatly a few feet away.

You mustered the courage to get dressed and head back to the drop ship. Maybe you could just disappear into the forest, never to return?

You were pulling your shirt over your head when familiar boot steps sounded down the hall. Shame began to claw its way through your chest and you tried to fight back tears. There would be no use in crying.

Jack cleared his throat, he had stopped in the doorway. You turned to see that he didn’t have his visor on. You gripped your pants with white knuckles.

“Are you okay?” he asked, shuffling awkwardly.

“Yeah,” you stared at your feet. “I’m fine.” You choked on the last word though, so it was abundantly clear that you were not, in fact, fine.

He crossed the room in three steps, pulling you into his chest and smoothing your hair back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You stiffened in his embrace. “Why are you sorry?”

Jack turned you to meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. I took advantage of you. I wanted things to be different.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” you countered. “We both got contaminated.”

“You’re upset,” he noted. “But not at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed heavily, pushing away so you could put on your damn pants. “We can’t do that again.”

Jack frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“I want to do it again.” You stared him down. “Preferably without some kind of chemical interference.”

Jack smiled and pulled you in close again. You looked up at him in awe, and he kissed your forehead. “There are many things I want to do with you, sweetheart.”