#i may or may have dressed up as a Sith for my birthday….

[madamealys]

Imagine Lord Vader tempts you. (+21)

Warnings: unburnt Vader.

(I)

***

You have managed to become friends with the dark lord, this Sith man by whom looked as more a machine creature than human being. You’ve managed to bond with a cold, heartless former Jedi, whose path to power is bloody.

What is more: Lord Vader is infatuated by this sweet innocent, naive even, woman who manages to make him laugh with terrible jokes, whose service to the Empire is deprived of ambition—you need to pay your bills, you are a regular woman.

Unlike his former associations, you do not judge him by who he was, nor who he is now. You partially fear him, but this is more prudence than properly fear in itself.

But as time goes by, Vader begins to see you as something else. He notices the clothes you dress reinforce your curves. He never noticed a simple black shirt would make him realize you have good and firm breasts. That the jeans you wear is slightly loose in your waist… and when he spotted you on your knees, he thinks he saw you wearing that kind of undergarment that… well, he has no words to put it.

When night comes in, he is reminded that he is a man with natural desires. He thought he’d long overcome these, for since Padmé died all that was his followed her to the grave.

This night, however, all he can think of is the possibility of having you naked. Would you command him with your well shaped thighs, ride his cock? Or would you prefer to be under his ways? Would you take his cock to your mouth, swallowing all?

The idea of corrupting you, of making you cry out his name—makes him release the pressure himself. This night he jerks at the many possibilities, all of which involving you, of not being alone anymore.

A question remains, though: how will he get you to his bed? He cannot take you for granted. And regardless who he is and what kind of reputation he lives for, Vader is no disrespectful man.

But he waits.

He is patient.

***

There is a feast this evening and you are surprised to have been invited to take part of the imperial banquet since you are a common woman who doesn’t possess much to be counted as elite.

Nevertheless, you have in mind he will be there, and moved by it, you opt to dress your best clothes. Whilst your conscience admonishes you for thinking of your friend in other shades, you want to be seen as something else than the “clean lady” who is held in high esteem by the most feared man of the galaxy.

Perhaps you are being bold, but you end up dressing a simple, long gown that, however, has a way to show your thigh and reinforces your curves. It may show your collarbone, disguising not very well your nipples. You take pride of your pride when seeing your reflection.

You do well in remember of wearing the jewelry he gifted you on your birthday. And letting your y/c hair loose, you are ready to go.

Every pride dies when you see this handsome, devilish man standing tall, looking bored as if he wishes he is anywhere but there. You forget how to breathe, though, when he senses your presence.

And when his flaring gaze meets yours, a shiver runs down at your spine. Regret almost instantly seizes your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn’t dress that indencently, perhaps…

“You are looking beautiful, Y/Nickname”, he says in his risky voice, looking up and down at you with no effort in disguising his approval, which makes you uncomfortably wet in between your legs.

“My lord”, you greet him rather shyly.

“Lord?”, you spot amusement behind his flaring eyes, yellow as sun, inviting to burn. “We’ve past formalities, my dear. I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

You notice today his hair is shorter, but his curls remain the same.

“I see you are wearing the gift I gave you. Looking lovely as I judged so”, he smirks. “I feel inclined in not staying longer, but I wonder whether or not to extend you the invitation since I fear many eyes are on you now.”

“Yours are that matter most, Darth”, you speak rather bluntly, much to his amusement—and contentment.

***

Walking alone in these corridors should warn you of possible dangers, of how imprudent you are behaving. But when Vader takes your arm with his, you never felt safer.

“It has been a while since I last felt attracted to someone”, he begins after a while spent in silence. “But beyond your wit and sharp tongue there is a beautiful woman who tempts me every day and fuck, I cannot just content myself with my hand.”

“Your hand?”, you inquire awkwardly.

Vader chuckles quietly before telling you right away what he means, pleased to see you are blushing.

“Oh.”

“But if you tell me you don’t feel the same…”

You lean closer to him and Vader spots your firm breasts, how close to show out of the gown your nipples are. The man holds his breath, despite the effect in his pants.

“I feel. You know I do.”

And just like that you press your lips against his, not entirely surprising him for doing so. No innocence lasts long when spark of desire is about to leash in fire.

Vader sighs in content, patiently letting you have your way, as your hands move to his face up to his hair, tiptoeing to kiss him better. As one tongue pairs with the other, he soon locks you against the wall, his hands now all over your waist.

“So beautiful”, he leans to kiss your jawline, moving to your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Oh Lord!”, you moan lightly, enjoying this new sentiment you’ve only got familiar from books. You play with his hair, wishing he’d go below with his lips.

Reading your thoughts as you know he does, Vader smirks:

“What do you want me to do?”, he asks you, showing how gentle he can be when one gets to his heart.

You like his firm grip of your thigh, how he lifts each to fit in between; how he teases you, even if you feel indecent for wishing… to know where this will lead you.

“Well?”, and here he tempts you. “Ler darkness flows in you, dear heart.”

You gasp in desire, but there is no need to say further when Vader removes your gown just by using the Force. You feel his rigid erection, wanting to feel it, but forgetting all about it when he says:

“Your nipples are so beautiful”, he draws his thumb over each, making you squirm. “You’ve thought about me doing it so, haven’t you? I will suck each, I promise you. I will fuck you slowly, you will not regret it.”

“Vader, you make me naughty!”, you find support in his shoulders, moaning insanely louder, forgetting where you are and your state.

“Then you’ll be punished”, he chuckles before slapping your bum.

And before you say anything else, his tongue is right where you want him to be: twirling around your nipples, taking a long time in each, biting it, playing with it as you moan louder and louder.

Vader doesn’t waste more time when he inserts his metallic finger in you, enjoying how soaked you are as he plays with your clit.

You throw your head back, burying your fingers in his neck and shoulders, loving to be in this state before such a man. And as he fastens his pace, you finally release all of your juices to his fingers.

“V-Vader!”, you pull him to you, lips clashing in one fervent kiss as you shake to your core.

He knows he could fuck you right there. As he takes hold of your face, watching you panting frantically, catching your breath, Vader knows you belong with him.

But he hears voices.

And despite himself, some part of him doesn’t find just to ruin you amidst these people. So he helps you dress.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you ask after adjusting yourself.

For the first time you spot his former true self rising. A shade of blue is spotted in his yellow eyes.

“We will have more time to enjoy ourselves, my dear. I fear I’m too fond of you to treat you wrongly.”

The way you smile leads him to think he shouldn’t have done it. But fuck it.

When you and him kiss, balance occurs and all is well that ends well with you two together.

[jaytheirishwolfboy]

Guess what today is….MY BIRTHDAY! And I’m so excited!

And of course my theme for my birthday is Star Wars lol 😆

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 23

After a quick comm to Obi-Wan to let him know the girls were on their way. Satine fell into a deep sleep, only to be woken three and a half hours later to prepare for the day.

“Count Dooku’s coming, remember?” Parna whispered gently.

The Duchess groaned.

“We all feel that way,” Khaami sighed, freshly ironed dresses in her arms, “but this is for the good of the system.”

Satine sat up, feeling her bloated stomach, now empty.

“Dear God,” her eyes widened, “the Count!”

“Exactly.”

Satine threw herself out of bed then groaned.

“Go to the fresher,” Khaami advised, “there’s wrappers under the sink.”

After her underwear came a long chemise, today’s corset required a protection layer, and Satine wanted extra covering in case her neckline slipped. She was, afterall, wearing a very heavy dress. Then a girdle, to pull in her stomach extra tight. Only once all these previous layers were tightly secured did Satine see her dress.

“Is it exactly what you were going for?”

“Yes.” tears pricked Satine’s eyes. 

The gown was liquid gold, shimmering with citrine stones that caught the light elegantly. It was high-necked and regal, with boning on the bodice. Lilies were embroidered throughout the dress in a honey-toned thread that brought life to the gown. Satine hadn’t realized she’d been running her fingers along it.

“Shall we get you in it?” Parna grinned.

“We can try.”

Khaami snorted, but unzipped the dress all the same.

“Wow,” Satine breathed as Parna buttoned her up, “this is tight.”

The Duchess looked at herself in the mirror and frowned.

“A gold sash,” Khaami smiled, holding the garment in her hands, “to distract from your stomach.”

As one of her ladies fashioned the sash around her, the other held out a box.

“Your jewelry, Madam.”

Satine gasped as she saw her headpiece. It was a gold tiara with a lily emblazoned in the middle made out of diamonds.

“I will sparkle in the sunlight!” the Duchess twittered.

“That is the goal, Satine.”

Khaami pulled her hair back while Parna extracted more jewelry.

“No earrings,” she observed, “as you requested, but a broach instead of a necklace.”

“Does it match  with my ensemble?” Satine asked.

“Naturally,” Parna held up the jewel, “more diamonds.”

Once she was ready, Satine helped her ladies dress, they would be wearing white gowns in a similar style, only less ornate. A knock came at the door as Satine was helping with Khaami’s hair.

“Lady Mother,” Tyra poked her head in, “we’ve come to show you our outfits!”

“Very well, then,” Satine smiled, “come in.”

As they were maids-in-waiting, Tyra and Hera, who was looking quite tired, were wearing servants' outfits. Although, to distinguish them from the regular peasantry, both were wearing white with gold sashes.

“You look lovely,” the Duchess commented, “if not a little tired.”

“Speaking of which,” Parna piped up, “my brother commed to inform me that Jynn and Lyra were received in one of the Temple’s lower levels.”

“Good,” Satine nodded, “Ben said the same thing this morning.”

The Duchess beckoned Tyra over and kissed her head.

“You know what to do, darling?”

“Yes, Lady Mother.”

“Stay out of the Count’s way.” Satine reiterated.

“We will.” Tristan agreed, Korkie on his arm, entering the room without a care.

Fortunately, no one was it a state of undress, but Satine chastised her sons nonetheless.

“Really, Lady Mother,” Korkie assured, “neither of us are like that.”

 Satine raised an eyebrow, “I should hope my sons weren’t.”

The boys looked at each other.

“You’re very frightening when you do that, Lady Mother.”

“I have to agree,” Tyra nodded, “it’s like we didn’t eat our vegetables or something.”

Satine laughed, a pleasant yet hollow reminder of what could’ve been.

Tyra’s comm beeped and she looked up, “The Count sent cronies to investigate the underworld, that means he’s here!”

After a quick kiss to all of her children present, the Duchess began a brisk walk down to the royal throne room and audience chamber. Korkie had just taken her arm when the doors opened.

“Her Grace Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore, Second of Her Name and Lady Krewella, escorted by His Grace Korkyrach Kryze, Duke of Sundari, accompanied by the Lady Parna Supreis and Lady Khaami Eldar.”

There were many fawning whispers about the Duchess’ glorious dress and how handsome her nephew was. Satine let a smile play on her lips, he was eighteen now. His and Tyra’s birthday had been secretly celebrated with their siblings at Mara’s favorite place. Satine hadn’t been a part of it, and she wanted things to stay that way, seeing as Mara’s tastes were generally brutish.

Korkie gently helped his mother onto the throne, then stepped to the right. With Khaami and Parna on her left, they must’ve looked quite the bejeweled spectacle. 

“His Excellency, Count Dooku, Head of the Seperatist Alliance and Speaker of the Most High Seperatist Senate.”

The Count was dressed in black. Satine was slightly disappointed. Here she was looking like the sun, and he looked like the night sky. Not to say his dress wasn’t stylish though, it was clearly made of the most expensive fabric in the galaxy and embroidered with silver thread.

“Your Serene Highness,” Count Dooku bowed before the dias, “it is my great honor to be invited to Mandalore.”

“I do hope you enjoy your time here, Your Excellency,” Satine said in a critical tone, “Mandalore is eager to make Seperatist friends.”

“Your Grace shall not be disappointed,” Count Dooku grinned, “and in honor of our goodwill, we Separatists wish to give you a gift.”

The crowd mumbled to themselves, Satine raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Count Dooku clapped his hands and two servants stepped forward from the back of the room, each holding a cage. With a flick of his hands, the Count opened the cages and turtle doves swooped through the room. The crowd gasped. The brave Count took a step forward and produced a flower from his sleeve. One of the birds picked it up and flew it to Satine.

“A flower, for Your Grace, one of many presents to come.”

The Duchess was flattered, she may have even let some color onto her cheeks.

“A lily, what a thoughtful gift, Your Excellency,” Satine grinned, “it’s quite beautiful.”

“Almost as beautiful as the nation you’ve built, Your Grace.”

The crowd collectively held their breath.

“You most certainly have done your research, Your Grace,” Satine nodded, “and it does your talent a great complement.”

Conversations broke out immediately.

“Talent?” the Count’s voice asked in her head.

Satine was shocked.The Count smirked. The Duchess clapped and the chatter settled down.

“Would you do me the pleasure of escorting me to the ballroom,” Satine held out her hand, “Your Excellency?” 

“It would be a joy for a star such as yourself.” replied the Count, climbing the steps.

Korkie eyed the Count warily, meanwhile, the Duchess was smiling, and it was slightly reaching her eyes.

“You make for an interesting visitor, Your Excellency.” Satine commented as they made their way.

“As you said, Your Grace,” the Count replied in a smooth voice, “I do my research.”

“Clearly I should’ve been more diligent in mine.”

Count Dooku turned to face her, “Interested were you?”

“As much as necessity demanded.” Satine replied, without missing a beat.

They didn’t speak again until the first dance, which Count Dooku insisted on having.

“I have many questions.” he began.

“And I may not choose to answer them.”

The Count huffed.

“But you may try, of course,” Satine tilted her head, “I would hate to discourage you at such an early stage.”

The next voice she heard belonged to Tyra, “Good. Play him.”

Satine was unaware of this new force ability, but she much preferred speaking to her daughter rather than her dance partner.

“Well if you insist,” Count Dooku smirked, “I do certainly want to know how you captured my spy.”

Satine made sure to guard her mind, “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

The Count twirled her, letting his hand rest on her hip.

“Perhaps a simpler question then,” Dooku decided, “was this courtship planned by Senator Amidala?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “The Senator was much opposed to this as you must know.”

“Was she?”

“The Senator feels that one must take sides to protect their country,” Satine hesitated, “currently I feel firmness is dangerous.”

“It is,” Count Dooku agreed, “then again, so is dancing with a Sith Lord.”

The song ended, the Duchess curtsied and the Count bowed.

“Your Grace.”

“Your Excellency,” Satine extended her arm, ”do allow me to introduce you to my ladies.”

The Count offered the Duchess his arm and they glided across the floor. Satine signaled to Khaami.

“Your Excellency, this is my Lady Khaami Eldar and her husband, Lord Eldar, Khaami, may I present the Count Dooku.”

After bows and a curtsey were exchanged, the Count went on the hunt, trying to glean information from Khaami.

“Well, Your Excellency, I think that’s up to Her Grace,” Lady Eldar straightened and turned to the Duchess, “Satine, should we discuss our favorite pastime with the Count?”

Satine grinned, “I think we should, Khaami, why don’t you begin?”

Lady Khaami turned to the Count.

“Did you know our Lady’s favorite pastime is ridding Mandalore of her enemies?”

This certainly shocked the Count.

“I mention this because I’ve heard your just as aggressive in your spare time when committing mass murder.”

Khaami said this all with a smile on her face, Satine glowed.

“Mass murder, you say?”

“Mandalore prefers peaceful ends to conflicts,” the Duchess stated, “we happen to hear that the Separatists can be brutal.”

Count Dooku smirked, “Senator Amidala has certainly spoken with you, but I never thought I’d hear anti-bellicose notions from a Mandalorian.”

“You mistake our strategy if you believe ancient prejudices.” Satine commented.

The Count’s Eyes sparkled, “Strategy?” 

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Do Sith Lords do everything without a plan?”

“On the contrary, Your Grace,” Dooku smiled, “we always have a plan.”

“How unattractively diabolical.”

Without waiting for a reaction, Satine turned and made her way to Parna.

“How goes the evening, Your Grace?” Parna asked politely.

“Well, thank you,” Satine answered, feeling the Count step out alongside her, “may I present his Excellency Count Dooku.”

Parna curtsied and commented dryly, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The Count tilted his head, “Lady Supreis, is it?”

“If you’re going to ask about my connections, I suggest you hold your tongue.”

The Sith Lord looked like he had never been spoken to before like that, “Oh?”

“You know how siblings are, Your Excellency.”

Count Dooku narrowed his eyes, “I did hear about your sister.” 

“Ah yes,” Satine nodded, “she married your former apprentice.”

“Lovely,” The Count smirked, “we can say we met at the wedding.”

Satine gestured around her, “So this was all for naught, Your Excellency.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Dooku drawled.

“Good,” Satine straightened, “because this dress required extra seamstresses.”

Just as she’d hoped, the Count paused to admire her dress.

“It’s a lovely color on you,” he commented, “regal.”

The Duchess took the Count’s arm, “That is in my job description.”

Dooku huffed, his eyes wandering the crowd.

“Looking for someone, Your Excellency?”

The Count paused and looked down at the Duchess, who was about a head shorter.

“No, but is it too far out of the realm of politeness to ask for a second dance?”

Satine gave a playful sigh, “I suppose it’s not.”

Dooku led Satine onto the dance floor. Suddenly, Tyra’s voice appeared in her head.

“Dooku’s grooms are spies, they tried to plant evidence.”

The Duchess glowered.

“Are you well, Your Grace?”

“You do know, Your Excellency,” Satine smiled, “it is rude to come into someone's home and plant false evidence in hopes to stir up trouble, especially if you have been so kindly invited.”

The Count raised an eyebrow, but his voice betrayed nothing.

“And you would accuse me of such.”

“Proof, Your Excellency,” the Duchess spun, “speaks far louder than an accusation.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“And here I thought we’d reached an understanding,” he said finally.

“Oh, and what would that understanding be?”

They had danced by the musicians now, and the Count broke away to whisper into the ear of a string player.

“Your Excellency?”

In a quick second he was back, leading her father onto the dancefloor. Then, the music changed and Satine realized he was about to put on a show.

“An understanding?” the Duchess sneered as she curtsied.

It was a traditional Mandalorian dance known for its riveting, lively tune. They called it the Mandalorra, and Satine was not amused.

“I’m not wearing proper attire.” she spat at the Count.

“I practiced for this, Your Grace,” Dooku twirled her, “and it’s too late to stop me now.”

So they danced the spirited song, and Satine had to wonder if the Count was actually considering their union. It would be powerful and make a statement, plus add soldiers to the Seperatist ranks.

By the end, Satine was panting. She curtsied as the Count bowed, unsteady applause rang out through the ballroom.

“If you would be so kind, Your Grace,” Dooku took Satine’s hand, “I would love to meet your nephew.”

Satine looked for a way out of the situation, “My nephew?”

The Count raised an eyebrow, “After a dance like that, I’d thought you’d be delighted.”

“You mistake me for a schoolgirl, Your Excellency, this game of yours will not be won easily” the Duchess curtsied, “please excuse me.”

Satine signaled for Parna, who followed her lady. In the hallway, much of the guest chatter turned to low rumbles.

“Comm Khaami and tell her to watch Korkie,” she ordered quietly, “I’m worried for Tyra.”

The lady nodded and Satine made her way up towards where the count’s rooms would be. She didn’t have to go far to find evidence of a fight on the guest floor, strangely enough, Satine found no guards in this hallway. 

“We have you cornered,” a voice threatened, “your meddling has been most annoying, but I will ask you again, where are the Duchess’ private quarters?”

“Good evening, gentlemen.” a new voice interrupted.

Satine peaked around the corner wall. Tyra was pinned up against the wall with a knife to her throat, and she couldn’t do anything without giving herself away. In front of her were four cronies dressed in black. Two held Tyra down and two turned to their right, facing a man in Mandalorian armor.

Tyra’s eyes met her mother’s, “Boba Fett, the bounty hunter, he’s close with Mara. I don’t know why he’s here.”

“Who are you?” one of the grooms asked.

“A friend of the lady’s,” Boba Fett answered, “and you should know it is rude to treat them as such.”

One of the men facing Boba Fett scoffed, the other raised his knife. Then a fight broke out. Satine shielded half her face behind the wall, keeping an eye on Tyra. She was perfectly still until her captors doubled over.

“Wait,” Tyra held out her hand, “tie them, we don’t want an incident.”

With a grunt Boba Fett agreed. 

“You’ll regret this.” a groom spat.

“We won’t.” Tyra smiled, looking at her mother.

The bounty hunter pulled a recording device from his pocket and pressed pause.

“Well done, Sir,” Satine stepped out from behind the pillar, “if you would be so kind, I would very much appreciate that recording.”

Boba Fett bowed with a smile, “Of course, Your Grace.”

He handed the Duchess the recording, but she caught his hand.

“Thank you, Mister Fett,” she nodded, “tell Mara I am much appreciative for you and your skills.”

“I will, Your Grace,” the bounty hunter’s eyes twinkled, “you are most kind.”

“Would you be so helpful as to help drag these men into the main hallway?” Satine continued.

“Of course,” Boba nodded, “I assume Tyra is capable of assisting me?”

“She is, make sure these men get thrown in holding.”

Satine watched as the men were dragged into the main guest hallway, where a couple of early deperaters were astonished.

“Do pardon me,” the Duchess smiled politely, “I must speak with the Count.”

Unfortunately, Dooku was not in the ballroom, but Korkie and Khaami walked right up to her.

“He’s a master politician,” Korkie stuttered, “he seems like, like he knows something.” “Where did he go?” Satine asked.

“Into the garden with one off his assistants,” Khaami answered, “we sent Gorg after him.”

“Entertain the guests,” Satine ordered, “I’m going after him.”

The gardens were bright at this hour, yet menacing. Satine swallowed down her fear, no one would dare hurt her.

“Captured, you say?”

The Duchess paused and started a fresh recording.

“Yes, sir,” a mechanical voice beeped, “they were not able to plant the evidence.”

“Failures, we have to-” the Count paused, “another heartbeat.”

Satine hid the recording device up her sleeve just as the Count rounded the corner.

“Your Grace?” he smiled.

Satine stood, eyes narrow, “What a villain you are, Your Excellency.”

“You sound like your senator friend.” Dooku countered.

The Duchess raised an eyebrow, “You have given me no reason to believe otherwise.”

The Count sighed, “Long ago you were referred to as a she-wolf, now I see why.”

“I am very close to asking you to leave my system, Your Excellency,” Satine frowned, “give me one reason why you should stay.”

Dooku considered this for a moment before speaking.

“Because Mandalore hides more Sith secrets than you know.”

Satine tried to hide her surprise, “Oh?”

The count smirked, “I’ll see you in the morning, Your Grace.”

“Wait,” Satine commanded, “my guard?”

Dooku moved his hands and Gorg appeared, floating and grasping at his neck.

“No!” the Duchess ran to her friend.

“Concordia,” Gorg gasped, “Concordia.”

Then he passed out. The Duchess had her lower guards drag him to the medbay. Then she ran to her room, summoning Khaami, Parna, Tyra, Korkie, Tristan, and Hera. They met in her personal parlor and drew the blinds closed.

“What is it?” Korkie asked, his face drenched in worry.

Satine took the recording device out from her sleeve and turned to Parna, “I need copies of this.”

“Proof,” the lady’s eyes went wide, “my brother knows a person.”

“Good luck,” Satine passed over the device, “be careful.”

After Parna left, the Duchess locked the door and continued.

“The Separatists want to frame me for something,” Satine began, “and Gorg mentioned something about Concordia.”

“Death Watch?” Tistan asked.

“Perhaps,” Satine nodded, “they were looking for my personal quarters.”

Tyra’s comm dinged.

“It’s the Council,” she frowned, “they need a report.”

“Go in my room,” Satine ordered, “and keep quiet.”

The Duchess turned to her second son.

“You might have to help Tyra with her espionage endeavors.” 

“Spying?” Tristan questioned.

“Spying.”

Khaami spoke up.

“The Count mentioned that he had friends in the Republic.”

“What?”

“It’s true, Lady Mother,” Korkie added, “it was subservient, but he stated that his sources kept him well informed.”

Satine put a hand to her head, “I must tell Padme.”

“There are also the grooms in the dungeon.” Khaami offered.

Satine sighed, “Thank you, boys, you’ve been helpful, announce that the party is over now

After a little argument, each son kissed Satine’s cheek and went off.

“I want Jaym to interrogate the grooms,” the Duchess ordered, “if need be we can use Tyra.”

Khaami nodded, “I shall go inform him.”

When Tyra returned from her call, she told her mother that her father would comm soon.

“That always makes me smile,” Satine softened, “will you help me change, Tyra, Hera?”

“Of course, Lady Mother.”

“Of Course, Satine.”

Once all her jewelry was placed in a box, Satine had Tyra run it to the jewel room.

“I’d hoped to show it to you myself,” she told her daughter, “but prepare to be astounded.”

Hera helped Satine out of her dress and Satine groaned. The nurse then helped Satine to the fresher.

“I can’t believe you gave birth and then held a diplomatic court visit.” 

Satine sighed, “Royal life, what can you do?”.

When Satine emerged from the fresher some time later, Hera was talking to a blue Senator Amidala through the comm.

“Of course, my lady,” Hera smiled, “here she is now.”

With a groan Satine sat down.

“I must compliment you on your composure,” Padme began, “we met the twins just before the pictures came out, and that dress looked glorious.”

“Thank you, Padme,” Satine blushed, “is Obi-Wan there?”

A snide sound that could only have come from Anakin reached Satine.

“I am.” a familiar voice echoed.

Satine dismissed Hera with a wave, “How are the twins?”

“Oh my God,” Anakin whined, “they’re so cute!”

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated calmly, “they are very cute.”

“And they’ve settled in quite well.” the Senator added.

The Duchess grinned, thinking of her daughters.

“How was the Count.”

Satine frowned, “Completely untrustworthy.”

Anakin snorted, “I could’ve told you that.”

“He tried to frame me,” Satine continued, still angry, “he’s involved with the criminal underworld, and he has a plot relating to Concordia!”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“Also,” the Duchess frowned sympathetically, “he has spies in the Republic,”

A moment of silence.

“What?” Padme questioned, anger in her tone.

“Korkie mentioned that, in their conversation,” Satine paused, “he alluded to knowing things.”

Obi-Wan sighed, Anakin groaned.

“Was he specific?” the Senator questioned.

Satine shook her head, “No.”

“We have no definite proof,” Padme frowned, “but I will tell my friends to be on guard with what they say, and on the lookout.”

“Also,” Satine swallowed, “Dooku said Mandalore houses Sith secrets, I can’t imagine why.”

Padme tilted her head, “What?” 

“Concordia,” Anakin gasped, “wasn’t it important in one of Mandalore’s wars with the Jedi?”

Obi-Wan gave him a look.

Master Skywalkler sighed, “Once you and Satine got back together I did research to find stuff to tease you about.”

“You,” Satine asked, “did research?”

“He has his priorities.” Padme explained.

“Death Watch inhabited Concordia last I was there.” Obi-Wan reminded.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Satine smiled.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair.

“Perhaps,” he began, “the library might have some more information on Mandalorian Sith lore.”

“We’ll look into it.” Anakin promised.

“Thank you,” Satine nodded, “tell Ahsoka and Quinlan I say hello.”

“Of course.” Padme grinned.

[ladyvader23]

Darth Vader vs the Stripping Phase

For @masterjinzu who asked to see Vader handle Luke and Leia in their “stripping phase” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Never, in his entire life, had Darth Vader regretted killing someone as much as he now regretted killing the twins sixth nanny. 

There were two very important reasons for this, reasons he didn’t think about until the day after he’d offed her. 

First, the following morning when he told the twins that whats-her-name (he’d already forgotten it) wouldn’t be coming back, they’d cried for a good two hours, then intermittently throughout the day. There was nothing--nothing--he hated more than his children crying because of something he’d done. 

At least that’s what he thought, until he discovered the second reason to regret killing the nanny. 

Apparently, Luke and Leia, his sweet, innocent, just barely turned two year olds, had hit their ‘stripping’ phase.

He hadn’t even known such a thing existed. He didn’t know how long this had been a problem, either. Had it been going on for a while and the nanny just took care of it without saying anything? Or had the twins, in an act of revenge for murdering their nanny, decided to start streaking through the condo naked as the day they’d been born? 

He’d discovered the problem one morning after sitting down to work from his home office. With no nanny to watch them, he needed to be near enough to ensure his little ones were safe. 

Much to the Emperor’s annoyance. 

He’d just posted an ad for another nanny on the holonet when Leia came running in. He looked up to admonish her for interrupting and order her to play somewhere else--but he stopped cold when he realized that the clothes he’d put on her that morning were now mysteriously missing. 

“Leia, where are your clothes?” he demanded, going to pick her up. She squealed and evaded his grasp, darting back out into the hallway...where he watched in horror as his equally naked son rushed after her. 

He simply stared at the doorway, aghast. 

Maybe he hadn’t clothed them properly? But...no, he was sure he had…

He quickly rushed to grab the kids and, while they kicked and squirmed in his arms, he forced them back into their clothes. 

But the alarming behavior didn’t stop. 

Three more times that same day. Four more the next. Twice the day after that. 

Finally, he called their doctor. Surely there was something wrong. There had to be. He was losing his patience, and not a single nanny application had been submitted and he was about to go insane… 

“How may I help you, Lord Vader?” Doctor Rawley picked up mercifully quickly. 

He was struggling to force Leia back into the black dress he’d picked out for her. He didn’t fail to notice Luke was in the corner already trying to break free of his tunic. “Can you explain why, for Force sake, my children insist on tearing their clothes off every time I have my back turned?!...Leia, stop it right now, young lady!” 

She’d thrown herself dramatically on her back and had started trying to kick him. “NO!” She shrieked, glaring at him. 

If they were not his children…

Doctor Rawley hesitated, as he always seemed to do before telling the Dark Lord something he didn’t wish to hear. “It’s not uncommon for toddlers, once they figure out how to undress, to do it repeatedly.” 

His hands stilled, and he looked at the comm link in horror. “This...is...normal?!” 

Admittedly, he said that a lot to Doctor Rawley. 

“Yes. It could be for a variety of reasons, but it’s usually a fascination with a new skill.” 

Why. Why hadn’t he done his research before deciding to have children?! He was a Sith Lord. Count Dooku never had to deal with this. Neither had Maul, he was certain. 

Why? Why him? 

“What other reasons doctor?” 

“Well, they may like the attention they’re getting when you react…” 

“Are you saying I don’t give them enough attention?!” 

“N-no, of course not, Lord Vader. I’m simply…”

This time Leia kicked his face--or the helmet--and with a snarl he released her completely. She immediately jumped up and bolted out, a now shirtless Luke hot on her heels. 

“What. Other. Reasons?!” He growled at the comm link. The doctor was lucky that he wasn’t on holovid, or he’d be dead for witnessing that. 

“...Well, they might not like their clothes…” 

He was so close to demanding what was wrong with the clothes provided to them, but he was certain the doctor had a logical explanation and he didn’t want to hear it. It was just more proof of how ill prepared he was for fatherhood. 

“What do you suggest, then?” 

“Instead of putting them in the same clothes they were wearing, try putting them into a different outfit instead. And if the outfit closes from the back, that’s even better.” The doctor hesitated again, and Vader braced himself. “Or...let them have their naked time.” 

Oh, the doctor was very lucky he was not nearby. “That is a completely unacceptable answer…” 

“I understand, Lord Vader. I am merely suggesting what has worked on other toddlers with the same, ah, tendencies.” 

Vader gritted his teeth. “That will be all.” He snapped, and with a wave of his hand the call disconnected. Seconds later, he had his admiral on the line. 

When he answered, he didn’t even bother with greetings. Instead, he rushed straight to the issue at hand. “Admiral, you will use my funds and you will immediately go to the nearest tailor selling toddler clothes and you will buy every single item in the sizes that I will transmit to you. Spare no expense. I want all of it.” 

“...Y-yes, Lord Vader.” 

He didn’t care if it made him sound like he was spoiling his children. There was no way he would allow them to run free in their name day suits. No way. 

Admittedly, his reputation had taken a hit when he’d found his children and decided to keep them. It was normally not anything he couldn’t make up for in battle or in dealing with his subordinates. But if his children were to be found running around without their clothes on? 

He didn’t think he’d recover from that. 

And unfortunately, the Force seemed to want to test that theory out. 

It was the following day, early in the morning. He’d attempted to dress Luke in a soft, white tunic and black pants, with Leia in an equally soft blue tunic and black pants. So far, neither of them seemed inclined to start stripping--at least not whenever he checked in on them. 

So, he went back to his work. Namely, checking the pitiful amount of applicants for the nanny position. Apparently, his reputation for killing nannies had spread, and there were very few who wished to work for him. Yet another reason he regretted killing so many, he decided as he glared at the screen. 

It was as he was contemplating his rotten luck that he felt it--the presence of his master. 

Coming straight for his front door. 

He looked up, and though his skin was already pale beneath the suit, he was sure his face whitened further. 

He didn’t even need to ask why the Emperor had bothered to visit him at his home. It was so rare these days for him to leave the palace or the senate. Never, in the last few years, had he bothered dropping by either his home on Coruscant or on Mustafar. 

But now? Now he wanted to see what it was that was preventing Vader from leaving the planet to carry out his duties across the galaxy. 

Or, rather, he was coming to confirm why. 

Hurriedly, he stood, making sure his mental shields were strengthened as he stormed for the front door. The Emperor would not knock. What Vader owned, he owned...at least in his eyes. So, quickly, Vader dropped by the twin’s bedroom and checked in on them. 

Mercifully, they were still clothed and playing with the toy ships and stormtroopers he’d given them for their birthday. 

“Do not remove your clothes.” He warned, pointing a finger at them. 

Both of them blinked at him, and he sent the warning through their Force bond. He didn’t know what good it would do. They were still so young, and who knew how much they understood? He couldn’t exactly express to them why it was imperative that they keep their clothes on while the Emperor of the galaxy was visiting. 

He just had to hope they’d understand at least until he could bore the Emperor enough to get him to leave. 

As he predicted, the front door hissed open just as he reached it. In stepped the hooded, hunched figure of the Emperor. “Ah. Lord Vader. Just who I wanted to see.” 

Obviously. Vader wanted to say, but instead he knelt in front of the man. “I sensed your arrival, Master. How may I serve you?” 

Please tell me. Now. So you can leave. Is what he wanted to say, but he kept that carefully shielded from him. 

But the Emperor seemed to know he was in a hurry anyway, because he took his time taking in the condo at his leisure. “You keep your home clean, considering that you have two little ones running around. Probably with filthy fingers.” 

“They are well behaved.” The answer was automatic, even if it was currently a lie. 

“If they are so well behaved, then why have you not found yourself a new nanny? I need you out enforcing my will upon the galaxy, not babysitting.” 

Though on the surface the Emperor sounded like an old friend asking him about his troubles, he could detect the disdain hiding beneath his grandfatherly demeanor. 

“It would seem it is less about my children’s behavior and more about my reputation for,” he paused, deciding how to word it, “how I choose to reward failure.” 

The Emperor scoffed, and finally made a gesture with his hand, allowing Vader to rise. “I will see if I can speed the process up.” 

He didn’t love the idea of the Emperor having anything to do with his children, but he was smart enough not to protest. He’d have to find some way to undermine the order.

“I trust your work has…” The Emperor began, but another noise behind him had Vader tuning his master out. 

The sound of bare feet pitter pattering across the room…

Please don’t be naked, please don’t be naked, please don’t be naked…

He didn’t dare turn around, even as the Emperor broke off, his golden eyes narrowing at wherever his children had disappeared to. 

There was silence, only broken by the sound of his respirator. 

“Lord Vader.” 

“Yes, Master?” 

Oh Force. Force. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Did I just...see...two children running through your home...naked?” 

It was happening. 

He stood there, absolutely still, willing to be back on Mustafar, swallowed up by the lava so he wouldn’t have to face what was currently happening, completely out of his control. 

He didn’t know what to say. The Emperor, a master of the Sith, was far less likely to be understanding about children than he ever was. 

So he said the first thing that came to mind. 

“No.” 

The Emperor raised a wrinkled, deformed brow. “Oh?” To Vader’s horror, he realized that his Master felt his misery and was currently reveling in it. “So your children aren’t currently streaking through your home?” 

There went his reputation. 

“No.” 

“I see.” Oh yes, there was definitely dark pleasure in his master’s voice. “Well. It would seem that Luke and Leia need a firm, guiding hand in their lives at the moment. Maybe you should take a few more days to work from home.” 

Translation: This is what you get for taking them in. Suffer the tarnishing of your reputation. You brought this on yourself.  

 “That is most wise, my Master.” He forced out. 

“Good.” The Emperor turned, ready to leave, but before he did, he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and Lord Vader?” 

Please just leave. “Yes, my Master?” 

A sinister smile revealed rotting teeth. “Do get your children under control. Before I am forced to step in myself.” 

And as Vader watched the man leave, only to listen to his children run through the house still naked...something in him broke. 

His reputation was gone. Shredded. All that was left was him in his stupid life support suit and his two naked children running around the house. 

“Who dat?” Luke asked from behind him. 

Vader looked up at the ceiling, cursing the Force for it’s decision to continue to torture him. “The Emperor.” Then, he looked down at his son. 

Still naked. 

Luke frowned. “Daddy mad?” 

Mad? He was beyond that. Well beyond it. 

And yet...he didn’t have the energy. 

“I’m going to meditate.” He announced. He didn’t know if Luke understood it. Probably not. “Be nice to your sister.” 

As he walked away, a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered, Doctor Rawley was right. This once, allow them to have their naked time. 

He’d deal with their insubordination later. For now, he would retreat, gather his strength…

And ponder on how he’d gone from a feared apprentice of the Sith to an exhausted father with unclothed twins in less than a week.

[gemmaswriting]

Oneshots

To Build a home

“They hadn't done badly for a former Queen, assumed dead and abandoned on a sandy, near lawless, Outer-Rim planet and the son of a slave with secret Force-magic powers neither knew how to truly explain. Padme thought that from time to time.” 

Liberabit vos

“Senator Padme Amidala wakes up to find herself abducted by the Separatist's secretive new Sith Lord, Darth Vader, on the orders of Count Dooku. With the older Sith commanding that she reveal Republic military secrets to save her family from slaughter, will she give in and doom her people to Separatist victory and rule - or is there more to Darth Vader than she could have imagined?”

Of Slytherin and Hufflepuffs (NSFW)

“Hogwarts AU! Anakin wondered, just for a second, what Kit would say if he knew that he had been with Padme since halfway through their fourth year? He'd probably ask what kind of love spell Anakin was using...” 

aeternum (NSFW)

“The newly married Skywalkers spend an afternoon in bed and Anakin reflects, broods and learns there's more than one way to please his wife.”

What to expect when you want to be expecting (NSFW)

"Padme…" Anakin's hot breath tickled against her ear, "Angel, I want a baby." If only they'd known how difficult that would be...”

I wish I could rewrite the stars

“Suddenly, forever felt like something that could be real. They could make it real, the two of them together and out of nowhere, tears stung at Anakin's eyes. It just meant so much. Padme loving him too was the stuff of his dreams; something he'd only just dared to believe was possible. But she did. (Modern AU!)”

Needed this NSFW

"Well, how does an attentive wife usually make her husband feel better?"

Screaming in the Dark I Howl When We’re Apart (NSFW)

"She'd worked so hard perfecting the routine, desperate to please him; to shock him. Padme would be willing to bet every credit she owned that he'd never have imagined she'd do something like this. Force, she'd had no idea she was capable of such a thing… "

Something Very Special 

What if Padme's funeral dress had a different meaning behind it? What if she'd had it made for something else entirely? The six times the dress was laid eyes on throughout it's existence before it's first and final use.

It’s Okay to be Afraid

“Palpatine wasn't the only thing frightening Padme, despite what she tells Anakin time and time again, she does fear dying in childbirth. AU!”

In the Eye of the Storm 

“There is an old Naboo legend her grandmother told her when she was just a girl. The Gods once decided whether pairs of lovers were destined for happiness or tragedy on the day of their union. She'd always wondered what judgement the Gods would pass on her own union one day…”

Birthday

Anakin may have brought balance to the Force, but it is his children, who bring balance to him. Part of the Happy family AU series (you don't have to read the first one really! But you'll understand more if you do). Shameless Skywalker family fluff!

Thrill (NSFW)

“This time, he is sure Bail sees him shudder. He'd have to be blind not to. Swallowing thickly, Anakin tries to pull at least some part of his mind free from the fog of lust clouding it, the task is so much more difficult than he anticipated. All he can think of is Padme, her hand and her glorious, sinful mouth.”

Saints Can’t Help Me Now

“In a world where there are no Jedi and no Sith, there are only angels and demons. She cannot help but wonder, even a little… If he was good once, does it mean his soul can be saved?”

Bend (NSFW)

“Because, every now and again, even the Chosen One will bend for his wife.”

Reunion

“Revenge of the Sith AU! What if the Chancellor wasn't abducted for a year after Anakin and Obi-Wan are sent off to the Outer Rim Sieges? What if Anakin didn't come back in time to learn of Padme's pregnancy?”

 Countdown

“Just over twenty three hours… That's what the device claims is the time she must wait before setting eyes on her soulmate. In the grand scheme of things, the time is nothing, a mere blink of an eye before her life theoretically changes forever.”

 Welcome Home

"Aha!" Ahsoka laughs, still utterly unaware of their presence. "No Skywalker will has ever been able to defeat me! I am-" Finally her eyes lift to see them just as Padme's arms cross over her chest. Immediate panic lights up the girl's face at the sight of them standing here. "… In big trouble…" She mutters, lowering her blade.”

 Angelus Mortis

“If her husband has truly been consumed by the dark side as Obi-Wan says, then she will end this once and for all, before the evil that has destroyed Anakin can do further damage to the Galaxy.”

Bliss

“Since their wedding she's sworn to learn his mother tongue, Huttese, so he can speak to her in the language he used most often as a child and she can understand him as he does so.”

Stay

“He surprises her though, there are no violent outbursts or declarations of hate for whatever scum did this or even promises of vengeance. It's heartbreakingly the opposite, instead of all that, he shatters in her arms. (Set during 4x09 of The Clone Wars!)”

Scoundrel 

"By the Force… What if they've run off to get married?" Anakin's eyes widen in his panic, and Padme suddenly feels far older than she truly is for a moment. How is she supposed to defuse this? "I swear if that scoundrel elopes with my daughter he'll meet the wrong side of my lightsaber-" Slumping back in her seat, she hears Luke's terrible attempt to keep his laughter at bay.”

Siblings

“Margaery, unlike her siblings has no connection to the almighty Force, but she makes up for it in other ways. She doesn't need any of those mind tricks to play people to her tunes… What fun would it be if she only had to extend a hand and say exactly what she wanted them to do? That's much too easy. She prefers a challenge. Part of the Happy Family AU series!”

Think of Me and Burn

“Clad in only one of her silken nightgowns, the evidence of the perfection she carries within her inner cradle is obvious for his eyes to look upon and admire. How is it that he gave her his passion and she gives him the most wonderful gift in return? It hardly seems fair, but he's overjoyed none the less. (Anakin's thoughts/missing moments in Revenge of the Sith!)” 

Sisters and Secrets

“Despite the sombre nature of their conversation she can only giggle and bring her cooling tea up, to her lips to sip. It's well known she and Anakin share a very… Healthy intimate life together. They make no secret of it, so much so that Luke and Leia have taken to groaning and throwing things when they catch them kissing. It is their jobs as parents to embarrass them. (AU)” 

If you could only see the beast you made of me

“Throughout his life, throughout this war, Anakin Skywalker had done terrible things, bent the rules, broken them, stolen, sped, damaged, wounded, threatened, mind-tricked and even killed. He'd killed so many… But in this moment, now, none of that compared to… There was something far worse than all of those sins and he was mere moments away from committing it, his worst atrocity.” 

Take a walk on the wild side

"Your friends bought you a private dance." She stepped toward the small bar area, he looked like he needed a drink. "An hour-long set, actually." She'd never done an hour with anyone before. This was a new experience for her just like him. Maybe she should have a drink too?”

Just carry me home tonight (NSFW)

“I – I didn't mean to, it's only that… Well, the Force, it lets me feel… What you feel, and I know this wasn't exactly what you imagined for your wedding night, so I…" His flesh hand rose to scratch his neck awkwardly, "I suppose I just wanted to make this special for you…" Wedding night smut!” 

Once Upon a Time

“Now, she couldn't be like Anakin and swear that being a spouse and parent were all that mattered to her, because her other titles – especially the professional ones, also drove her. But to be a wife to Anakin, to be the mother of her children, it felt as natural as breathing, the progression of her life as it was meant to be. It was as if a missing piece of her had been returned.”

Take my hand take my whole life too

“Textfic. Dorme, Sabe and Obi-wan are sick to death of Anakin and Padme hiding their feelings for each other. It's time to meddle a little...”

dulce invidia 

“Senator," Anakin began, "This… This is truly not what it looks like…" He winced, and Reeva's gaze snapped back to him once more. Wasn't it? Well, she supposed not… But it could have been! It might have been given just a little more time! But Anakin wasn't looking at Reeva now. His gaze focused only on the Senator whose own eyes seemed to scream of murder when settled on her.”

Hypnotic takin’ over me (NSFW)

“By the Force… Just how many times had he seen her like this in his dreams? How many times had he run his fingers over her skin? Filled his hands with her perfect backside? Yet, when he was, by some mercy or a cruel joke, granted true sight of her, he was oblivious."

Take my hand and fight for me

“This was supposed to be a happy day, a day a father-to-be anticipated from the moment he found about the child. But not Anakin. Since Padme told him about the baby, the prospect of this day brought only dread and sickening worry that tore his exhausted mind apart. Part of him, however terrible it was, wished that this day would never come.” 

[femalechibiblogger]

My Top 10 Most Tragic Villains

1. Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Anakin Skywalker is one of the most important characters in the Star Wars franchise. In the first movie, Anakin is only mentioned and is described as being a skilled Jedi Knight, a good pilot, and was also a good friend. Even in the prequels and cartoons that came years later, Anakin is shown to be kind, caring, and determined to save those closest to him. However...no one would have expected a great Jedi and friend to become the most infamous villain in the series. Anakin’s darker feelings, such as anger and jealousy, made him vulnerable to the Dark Side of the Force. When he has visions of his pregnant wife, Padme, dying in childbirth, Anakin is determined to do anything that he can to stop his vision from coming true...including betraying his friends, killing children, and helping a Sith Lord conquer the galaxy. However, Padme still dies, and Anakin becomes the Sith Lord: Darth Vader. Anakin had lost everything...his friends, his wife, everyone...and now all he had left was Emperor Palpatine and the Empire. But for many years, Anakin was unaware that his children had survived: His son Luke, and his daughter Leia. In the end, Anakin chooses to save Luke from Palpatine, and dies knowing that his son never gave-up on him. 

Despite Darth Vader having been a villain, he is only a villain because he was deceived and tormented until he lost everything and everyone who loved and cared about him. For many years, Anakin was haunted by his past actions, and lived in great regret of what he had done. But in the end, we see that he still had some good left in him, as Palpatine could never destroy Anakin’s love for his children. 

2. Arthur Fleck/Joker (2019)

Arthur Fleck is the main character of the original DC Comics story in the movie, Joker. Arthur is shown to be a mentally ill man who suffers from uncontrollable laughter due to a brain injury, who lives with his delusional and emotionally disturbed mother. Arthur worked as a clown, but his dream was to become a comedian. However, Arthur had been mocked by many people in Gotham, which caused him to kill three men who were harassing both him and a woman on a train. Arthur’s actions cause an uproar consisting of people who are either poor, unemployed, mentally ill, or all of the above. As the story progresses, Arthur discovers from shocking truths about his life: His mother had lied about him being the illegitimate son of her former boss, billionaire Thomas Wayne... His mother was actually his adoptive mother, and that he allowed her boyfriend to abuse Arthur...abuse that had caused him his head injury which is the reason for his uncontrollable laughing. Tired of being lied to and ridiculed all his life, Arthur kills his mother, dresses up as a clown, and kills people on live television. Not only that, but the protests that Arthur had unintentionally caused resulted in the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, whose murders were witnessed by their son Bruce. 

This is one of the few stories that actually features Joker’s backstory. This movie is not based off of any comics, and is therefore an original story. While Joker is one of Batman’s most dangerous villains, this may be one of the greatest portrayals of his former self. Arthur Fleck had suffered his whole life, until he snapped and would become one of the Gotham’s greatest threats.

3. Simon Petrikov/Ice King

The Ice King was the main antagonist of the cartoon, Adventure Time. Throughout the series, Ice King would attempt to kidnap princesses, especially Princess Bubblegum, and would often fight the two main protagonists: Finn and Jake. However, Ice King’s past was unexpectedly revealed in the episode, Holly Jolly Secrets. At first the episode is comedic and shows videos of Ice King’s hilarity...but it all becomes serious and sad near the end. Ice King is revealed to have once been a human named ‘Simon Petrikov’, who specialized in mysterious, supernatural artifacts. Simon had a great career, and was madly in love with his fiance: Betty. But one day, Simon found a mysterious crown buried in ice and snow. When Simon put it on his head, it gave him visions that made him act insane without him even realizing it. This drove Betty away, and Simon began to slowly change physically, emotionally, and mentally. In the end, Simon was driven completely insane and lost all memories of his past. His obsession with princesses is because he used to call Betty his ‘princess’...though he did not remember calling her that. In the series finale, Simon is freed from the crown’s power and is returned to his old self.

While Ice King was introduced as a comedic villain, and was the main antagonist for most of the series...he is still a tragic villain do to him once being a sane man with a good life, but began to lose his mind because of the crown’s magic. At least he was transformed back into his old self, in the end. 

4. Mr. Freeze

Mr. Freeze is one of the most famous and tragic villains in the Batman universe. Mr. Freeze is, of course, a villain who uses the cold in his crimes. But in the past, Mr. Freeze was a scientist named ‘Victor Fries’ who had a loving and caring relationship with his wife: Nora. Victor loved Nora more than anything in the world. But at some point, Nora was diagnosed with a fatal disease with not long to live. Desperate to save her, Victor had Nora cryonectically frozen in order to keep her alive until a cure for her illness was found. Unfortunately, however, the equipment malfunctioned, causing the lab to explode in ice with Victor in it. Victor survived, but the explosion caused his body to only be able to survive in extremely cold weather. Nora had also survived...but her condition was even more serious than before. Victor created a suit to help him live, and began to commit crimes so he could continue keeping his wife alive.

Mr. Freeze’s motive for his crime spree is his wife’s life. He would go to extreme lengths to save her life...even if it meant becoming a bad guy.

5. Zack Foster and Rachel Gardner

While number 5 on the list consists of a duo...Zack and Rachel make one heck of a team. Zack and Rachel are the two main characters in the anime, Angels of Death, in which all of the characters are, in fact, mentally unstable individuals who like to kill people. 

As a child, Zack had lived with his mother until her boyfriend set him on fire for his own enjoyment. While Zack survived this attack, his mother abandoned him at an illegal orphanage, where many other orphans were mistreated and starved by the couple who owned the orphanage. Zack was forced to bury the bodies of the orphans who died there, and was treated as a pet by the couple. One night, Zack watched a slasher film, which gave him the idea to stab the couple to death while they slept. Afterwards, Zack left the orphanage and was soon taken in a blind, homeless man who was the first and only person to ever show him kindness. However, the man was killed by a couple of sociopaths. Zack found out and killed them. For many years...Zack would kill people who were ‘happy’ and lied to him, thus earning him the title of a serial killer. 

Rachel had lived with her parents before the start of the series. Rachel’s father was a cop who had a drinking problem, which resulted in several fights between him and his wife. Both of them blamed each other for Rachel’s lack of emotions, but only stayed together because of Rachel. Rachel’s father saw her as an insane girl, and her mother hated her and would even beat her. One day, Rachel found a stray puppy and wanted to keep it, but her parents wouldn’t listen to her and just kept on fighting with each other. But later on, she went back to where the puppy was and it bit her. This caused Rachel to blackout, but when she came to...she saw that she had killed the dog without even remembering what she had done. She then “fixed” the puppy by sewing it back together, thus “making it her’s”. When Rachel returned home with the puppy that night, her father snapped and stabbed her mother to death. Rachel witnessed it and ran back to her room, with her father chasing after her with the knife. Rachel took out a gun that her mother had hidden from him, and shot her father in self-defense. Rachel then sewed her parents’ bodies together, as her way of “fixing” them and creating her “perfect family”. A week later, the police arrived at the house and saw Rachel with the sewed up puppy and her parents. The police thought that Rachel was a surviving victim who was in shock, and was sent to a mental institution for treatment. 

Zack and Rachel are quite complicated, as they have both protagonist and antagonist qualities. They both kill people and use each other to escape a building full of death traps and killers...but they also care and understand each other, as they have both suffered years of abuse to the point of developing murderous instincts.

6. Dr. Doofenshmirtz

Dr. Doofenshmirtz was basically the main comedic-antagonist of the cartoon, Phineas and Ferb. Doofenshmirtz is the arch nemesis of Perry the Platypus, and is always making some kind of ‘inator’ device to conquer the Tri State Area...though many of his “evil” plans backfire and are not really THAT evil. Though the reason why Doofenshmirtz is an evil genius, is because of his bad childhood. 

Both of his parents neglected him, he always lived in the shadow of his younger brother, his only friend was a balloon, no one ever came to any of his birthdays, he was forced to wear dresses after his brother was born, and he was even disowned at one point and was forced to live with ocelots. So, yeah...it’s no wonder he turned to a life on crime. 

Doofenshmirtz is quite hilarious and not very evil...but his terrible childhood makes you wonder how he hasn’t killed anyone! At least his arch nemesis and teenage daughter care about him. 

7. Denzel Crocker 

Denzel Crocker is one of the main antagonists of the cartoon, Fairly Odd Parents. Crocker is a fourth grade teacher who is obsessed with catching fairies...which makes the people around him see him as crazy. Of course, there is a reason for his obsession with fairies.

When Crocker was a child, his single mother worked two jobs and left him with an abusive babysitter. Because of this, he had fairy godparents...just like Timmy Turner. His life with his fairies was the only time in his life when he was happy. However, after Timmy went back in time and accidentally revealed that Crocker had fairies, his fairies were taken away from him and his memory was erased several times. People even forgot all of the good things that Crocker had done with his fairies, and was now hated by the townspeople. Because his memory was erased more than once, his appearance changed...but he still did not forget the existence of fairies, only forgetting that he himself had fairy godparents as a child.

Crocker’s obsession with proving the existence of fairies has caused him to become a laughing stock, to the point where he was expelled from Harvard, was denied funding for his fairy research, lost his girlfriend, and he never moved out of his childhood home. Crocker is capable of building extraordinary machines and is quite smart, but he wastes his talents on trying to prove the existence of fairies. If only Crocker had never became obsessed with fairies, he may have been able to live a normal and decent life.

8. Wellies

Wellies are the residents of Wellington Wells in the game, We Happy Few. Wellies are known to be decent citizens in Wellington Wells...but their minds and emotional states are from from decent. They kill or throw out anyone who becomes a Downer (a person who either won’t take Joy, or cannot take Joy due to having a bad reaction towards it). But their villainous characteristics are all caused by denial and drug usage. 

In an alternate timeline, England surrendered to Germany during WWII and the citizens of Wellington Wells were forced to send their under 13 children on a train to Germany. The children never returned, even after Germany lost the war, and all of the townspeople were so traumatized by what had happened that they now rely on a drug: Joy. Joy is a pill that makes people forget the past, and put them in a state of constant happiness. The Wellies are addicted to this drug, as they cannot bear to remember what had happened to the children. To make matters worse, their whole civilization is now on the verge of collapse due to many problems caused by them always being on Joy: Broken machinery, plagues caused by pollution, towns beginning to collapse due to poor maintenance, starvation due to lack of food production, and a government who cannot bear to face the reality of their situation and would rather be on Joy than solve the problem. 

Because of their reliance on Joy, Wellies are completely unaware that the town is collapsing, and would rather be in denial than face reality. 

9. Mary

Mary is the hidden antagonist in the game, Ib. At first, Mary appears to be an innocent girl who claims to be trapped in the Fabricated World like the main protagonists, Ib and Garry. However, it is revealed that Mary is actually a girl from a painting who wants to escape the Fabricated World by replacing either Ib or Gary in the real world. 

Depending on the game’s ending, Mary either replaces Ib or Garry in the real world by leaving one of them behind in the Fabricated World, or is defeated by Ib and Garry and remains trapped in the Fabricated World. 

Mary was the last painting made by the artist: Guertena. She saw him as her “father”, because she was created by him, and was devastated by his death. Mary is very lonely in the Fabricated World, and wants so desperately to exist in the real world. Mary would do anything to become real and have a friend and family of her own. Years of loneliness can make a person desperate and insane.  

10. Zombies

Zombies are always the villains in anything zombie-related. They are undead humanoids who eat human flesh, and drive survivors to do questionable things and fight for survival. 

However, there is something that some people seem to forget: Zombies used to be normal, ordinary humans who did not become zombies by choice. They were turned into zombies either because of a mysterious virus, or a nuclear weapon that mutated them into creatures of the undead. 

Zombies do not remember who they once were, and some even end up killing and eating their own loved ones without even realizing it. They have basically been ripped of their humanity and are now walking shells of their former selves.

[sithhoplite]

Birthday Gift

It was her fathers 70th birthday and for once she was actually on Dromund Kaas for the celebration. She had gotten him two presents, one she knew he would enjoy, the other....well let’s just say he might not take it in the spirit it was intended. 

Erland opened the door and inclined his head at Lak, Andriy and their children then blended into the house once again. Putting Peytor Lak made her way up the stairs and into the upper living room. Dimitri and Peytor followed quickly behind and then ahead of her. 

“Grandpa!” the toddlers yelled running towards him for a hug. Bending down Mortis took his two grandson’s into his arms and hugged it. It was rare for anyone to see this side of him, in fact Lak was sure her children garnered more affection from Mortis than she did. 

“Happy birthday dad, you’re getting old.” Lak greeted him with a smile and her tone upbeat and teasing

“It took you less then 5 minutes from your arrival to make an age joke at my expense, you have outdone yourself Lak.”

“Thank you.”

Mortis shook Andriy’s hand then looked at the wrapped gifts. The rather long box he scrutinized trying to figure out what it could be then looked up at Lak. 

“Is this what I think it is Lak?”

“Seeing as I don’t read minds I don’t know dad. What do you think it is?”

“Come now dear, don’t get grumpy. It’s your birthday and the first time in 4 years Lak has been home to celebrate it. Even if it is what you think it is, take the gift as it was intended.” Indran chided him “Come sit down and open the gifts.”

Sitting down on the couch Andriy put his arm around Lak as she watched her father inspect the gifts. Taking the smaller one he slowly unwrapped it then smiled. She knew he would like the ancient tome she got him. 

“Thank you, this is wonderful. May I ask where you found this Lak?”

“Kean’s parents shop. I told him what I had in mind and he was able to procure this for me.”

Mortis felt a tapping on his leg and looking down his grandson stood there with a very serious look, as serious as one can get for a five year old.“Grandpa, you are supposed to tear the paper not be all nice to it. Do you need me to show you how to do it?” 

“No Dimitri, I know how to open gifts but thank you. I simply prefer to take my time in doing so.”

“Why?”

“Dimitri come here and sit with me while we watch Grandpa open his other gift. You too Peytor if you want.” Indran told the boys then made room as they hopped up and sat on her lap and next to her

Picking up the long box once again Mortis slowly unwrapped it then set it down on the floor. Opening the box a cane sat in it. It was made of solid oak, engraved with the family crest, Imperial and Sith symbols as well as a few choice Sith runes. The top of the cane was covered in a Silver top with a blood diamond in the middle. Stopping himself from snapping at her Mortis realized that Lak had put in a great deal of thought into it’s creation. He wasn’t native to think that it wasn’t also a shot at his age either.

“Are you trying to tell me that I might need this for every day use my child?”

“Yes and no. While yes it is a crack at your ancient years you can also use it when you have to really dress up and go out, like to the opera. I mean if you want to take it to the Citadel Vowrawn may crack endless age jokes when he sees it.”

“Dear...”

“Thank you Lak and Andriy. It is exquisite craftsmanship. I will be sure to use it when your mother and I go to the opening show of opera season.”

Soon the rest of the family joined them presenting Mortis with gifts for his birthday. No one had to ask who he had received the cane from. 

[stregacorvina]

Here we are 2023...(part 1)

Welcome back on my blog, it’s been a while since the last post that wasn’t just a picture reposted from Instagram....2022 is just ended and we’re few days in 2023 so I’m still on time for a recap post XD

What can I say about this year...well, I can start saying that this 2022 was almost like the 2020 for me (for different reasons of course!) I jumped onto it with a lot of projects in mind and a lot of hopes....then around the end of February something happened and all my projects went out of the window... It was a good year for sure, a lot of good things happened to me so I cannot complain at all but it was really different from what I was expencting...

But let’s see in detail what I did each mounth (and it was a really difficult task because this year I was so bad with socials and pictures T_T I almost never photographed anything and I don’t quite remember most of the projects I sewed...it’s almost the third time I open this page and it’s taking sooooo long!) I decided to split this “review” in two parts because I want to add a lot of pictures and it was really difficult to gather them all, a lot of them came from WhatsApp conversations or private messages. So let’s cover the first half of the year!

- At the beginning of January I started the New Year with a late birthday present from my brother, my first doll from the Rainbow High serie: Amaya, because in my mind this was the “year of the dolls”...

Meanwhile I was doing really well with my Etsy shop and my cosplay commissions (in fact I was booked almost till May) and I was so hyped with all the new things I wanted to start. I had in mind a lot of new ideas both related to cosplays and to dolls (a collection of cosplay/animal hats - inspired by this hat I made on commisison - a collection of cosplay lingerie, several new items for dolls...)

One of the first cosplay commission I finished in 2022 was the original Sith I started in December, and also the Scathach cosplay and the Sakura/Kero-chan mesh up outfit that were due for 2020 and were delayed (a lot!)

- In February I attended what I thought was going to be the first (but in reality was the only T_T) event of the year, an exibition/market for BJDs in Bologna.

I worked so hard for this event, I made a lot of new clothes and props, my uncle made a lot of fornitures for dolls and I ordered some new backcards to enchance my packages.

I was so invested in this event also because I was thinking about opening a second Etsy shop just for dolls: clothes, furnitures, sewing patterns...and in fact I did open it and created a branch-brand called “Strega Corvina, The Doll Witch”, but I managed to made only one listing in the shop because just a few days after the convention my year changed so quickly... In fact on the 24th of February the dates for the public exams I had to take in order to became an high school teacher were published (I was studying for this exam since 2018 but then everything was stopped because of the Pandemic) so I had to dedicate half of my day (and more) to study. As you can tell this had a huuuge impact on my commissions schedule and on my life as well, as I need to sew almost every seconds I wasn’t studying...without time for anything else.

So to uplift myself from the upcoming changes I bought myself another Rainbow High doll XD This time I bought Violet, she was really my first choice when I bought Amaya but she wasn’t available at that time.

I also managed to deliver on time the only wedding dress I did this year, for a very Gothic/Steampunk themed wedding and I redid one of the best seller cosplay from previous years, Esmeralda from the Hunchbacked of Notre Dame the musical (and I have another one to make for this February XD)

- In March I started to gather all the books I needed for the first exam (the written one, on the 12th of April) and just for my specific subject (fashion design and pattern making) they were a lot as you can see (in this picture you can also see another present I gave myself for *spoiler* passing the exam XD).

While I spent most of my days studying I managed to sew anyway the commissions I had for the month, luckly really quick ones: Star Guardian Lux for a Summer event and a pair of pants also from League od Legend.

On the dolls side, I shipped to Texas one of the first doll commission of the year, the Beast (from the Beauty and the Beast) with the outfit the character wore in the tv show Once upon a time and the first Princess Serenity gown for 1/3 BJDs of the year (I did three of them in total)

In March I also received this beautiful Serenity Pullip my aunt gifted me as a good luck gift for my dolls shop (unfortunatly still on hold) and my upcoming exams.

- In April I studyed almost every day as the exam was slowly approching and I stopped sewing completely even if I started to pattern two of the most challenging commissions of the year (Vi and Caitlyn from Arcane). But all the hard studying repayed me and I PASSED THE FIRST EXAM <3 So as “well done” gift I finally bought myself my first Smartdoll Challenge! I was pining for her since 2020 when I discovered Smartdolls but she was always sold out! But finally i was able to snatch her!!

I delivered another commission - Uzui Tengen frrom Demon Slayer - and after a few days of resting for Easter holydays it was already time to go back to my books as the next dates for the exams were revealed... And also the dead line for some commissions approached really fast so I had to rush!! Meanwhile I did another Princess Serenity gown for 1/3 dolls to ship to America. At this time I was still keeping my Etsy shop open but it was a decision I will regret in a few months...

- May passed so quickly and so frantic that I almost don’t remember any of it. I kept studying like crazy and sewing every other minutes, my health was started to go downhill again (my allergies were killing me almost every day and I was sleeping just 4/5 hours per night due to said allergy and stress, luckly my back remains quite for almost all the year!) I needed to deliver two of the biggest commissions of the year - Vi and Caitlyn from the Arcane show -  and also study for the TWO exams at the end of the month (this time the oral one and the practical exam on the 24th and 25th). In between all of this I manage to sew some clothes for Challenge anyway to keep my mental sanity XD

*I will update with pictures in the next days as I have them in my laptop at home*

I also did a quick jacket for Thoma from Genshin Impact

- In June after all the exams (I still didn’t know the outcome) we spent a few days on the Dolomites and I took my Smartdoll, I named her Violaine, with us to shoot some cute pictures and my priority was to rest as much as I can because during this time of the year I started to feel all the pressure and the exaustion of the past months and my heath was really bad overall...

Anyway all the commissions for these months were delivered on time, as well as the ones for this month: a set of gloves and cape for Descendants Mal, Belle dress for BDJ, matching the Beast I did few months before, and some new parts for the Sister of Battle cosplay I did last year.

And that’s all for the first half of 2022! I still can’t belive I did all of this while studying like crazy almost everyday! WOW! Only now that I see all the pictures together I finally realize how much I accomplished this year...and we’re still at June! I will post tomorrow the second half (and the Italian version as soon as I can)

Chiara (StregaCorvina)

[wingletblackbird]

Vengeance

This is a fic for anyone who loves Naboo flower culture, foreshadowing of ridiculously poetic justice, and ALL THE HANDMAIDENS. Seriously, I loved every second of writing this fic, but the handmaidens were the best part of it for me so I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt: Hideout

As Padmé wends her way back to her rooms at the palace, all six handmaidens surrounding her diligently, she finds she is very tired. She hadn't expected a funeral to have this effect, but attending Qui-Gon's has exhausted her more than the ceaseless work over the past three days. It's probably because there's nothing you can do at a funeral. No one can rule over death, not even a queen. Padmé hates it when there's nothing she can do. With hindsight, she shouldn't be surprised though. You'll always exhaust yourself more fighting battles you can't win.

Padmé wishes she could have at least done more for Qui-Gon. He wasn't even from Naboo, but he had died to protect its people. She felt everyone should be made aware of his sacrifice, and all of Naboo should have been allowed to pay their respects. The Jedi hadn't wanted that though. It wasn't their way. Qui-Gon had done his duty, and now returned to the Force. A cremation was all that was required. Padmé admires that. There is certain nobility in doing something when you know you will receive little to no recognition for it, but it doesn't alleviate Padmé's guilt. He, like so many others, had died under her orders. They may have been necessary orders, but Padmé still wants to ensure she remembers the price that was paid. She wants to count, and acknowledge every individual death as much as is possible. That is also why she would have preferred a large funeral. It was recognition that this peace comes at a price.

Sabé opens the door to the queen's bedroom and enters in. Padmé follows with five young girls trailing after, and sits on a stool in front of a large mirror. Rabé, Eirtaé, and Fé surround her, and begin taking off her headpiece and undoing her hair. Padmé has two hours now to get changed before a quiet meal to honour Qui-Gon. Saché has gone to the large walk-in closet to retrieve the Queen's new dress, and Sabé has flopped on the bed looking as worn-out as Padmé feels. Clearly, her handmaidens feel the stress too. No one is talking, but Yané gasps.

"What is it?" Padmé asks.

"It's-it's nothing, Your Majesty." She says, but then motions Sabé to come over, as she quickly hides something behind her back. "I just...stubbed my toe!"

"Oh?" questions Eirtaé sarcastically. "Why aren't you hopping up and down then? Did you break your leg too?"

Padmé doesn't buy Yané's excuse either, not for a second.

"You needn't be quite so harsh Eri." Saché mutters as she walks back out holding a silver dress carefully in her arms. "You could just say. Pull the other one-it has ligaments."

Fé giggles, but Sabé who has been conferring with Yané in a corner turns sharply and barks,

"Stop joking. Stop laughing right now, all of you."

"What's going on?" Rabé questions calmly. Sabé turns to look at them, and Padmé notices that Sabé's face has gone as white as hers. That's really saying something considering Padmé still has her regal makeup on.

"We need an emergency meeting: Just handmaidens."

"What do you mean just handmaidens, Sabé?" Now Padmé is annoyed, and it shows in her tone. She will not be left out of discussions. What concerns her handmaidens must concern her too. She is the queen.

"Padmé it's nothing you need to be burdened with. It's just about some new rotations."

"Which will affect me." Padmé replies sternly, and places a steely gaze on her senior handmaiden. "I will not be kept uninformed."

To Padmé's right, Fé, who has always been sensitive to conflict, looks nervous. Yané, who is standing just behind Sabé, also looks intensely uncomfortable.

"Just tell her." Eirtaé adds from the queen's left. "She's right, and even if she wasn't she'd make sure she finds out anyway."

"Thank you, Eirtaé." Padmé shoots her a grateful glance, before returning to glare at Sabé.

"No kidding." Saché adds still standing in place with the dress. She folds it neatly, places it on the foot of the large bed, and sits down. She looks over at Sabé too, but as Sabé still looks torn, Saché looks over at Yané's small form instead.

"What's wrong Yané? You didn't really stub your toe now did you?"

Yané shakes her head, and looks up at Sabé who sighs.

"We think your life may be in even more danger than usual." She says slowly looking only at Padmé. "Yané found something in your room that shouldn't have been there. We need to make sure that your security isn't compromised. That is all."

"Alright." Padmé nods, "but why did Yané react the way she did? What is she hiding behind her back? It must be more than something that shouldn't be there."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Yané finally speaks up. "I just didn't want to worry you. I mean, you shouldn't have to live with this over your head for the next couple decades. So I thought that-"

"Decades? What do you mean decades? She's not going to be queen that long. She's the one who created the term limits!" Eirtaé shoots back.

Yané pulls her arm out from behind her back, and shows the room what's in her hand in lieu of verbal response. It is a simple purple, almost black Iris: The same flower that inspired the Naboo royal emblem. Immediately, Padmé understands what Yané's concerns were. The silent response is response enough. A dark purple iris presented to the queen has significant connotations.

"I don't understand." Fé whispers from next to her.

"Well, according to legend, every ruler presented with a purple iris has died before their thirty-sixth birthday." Rabé answers, and adds quietly, in case the point was missed. "It's a death threat."

There is a pause and the handmaidens erupt into conversation all at once.

"It's just a silly superstition."

"Of course, it is just a legend."

"Just a legend?! I'm not so sure..."

"The priority is security. All that matters is how the flower got there not what it represents!"

"But the gods have been invoked in this. The Iris symbolises their messenger, doesn't it? Vengeance could come. It's like an oath."

"It could just be a deliberate attempt to spook us. Padmé's made enemies from beating the blockade."

"Why tempt fate you mean? I'm not sure that-"

"She can't wonder for the rest of her life if she'll die young."

"That's why I didn't wanna say anything, but does anyone listen to me?"

"Well, maybe if you'd..."

"Quiet!" Padmé commanded. "It's done now. Maybe I'll die, maybe I won't. Actually, everyone dies eventually; I shan't waste my time worrying on it. Sabé's right. What we need to do now is double security. Sabé go see Captain Panaka." Sabé nodded, curtsied, and left. She still looked ashen.

"Yané?" Padmé smiled at their youngest member kindly. "Would you bring the flower here, please?"

"Yes ma'am."

Padmé took it in her left hand.

"Thank you. Now, Rabé, I want you to alter my hairstyle so that this Iris is woven in on the left side. Can you do that?"

"What!? Your Majesty, you can't be serious."

"I have to say I agree." Eirtaé chimes in. "I'm not superstitious, but Saché's right: Why tempt fate?"

"Fate has already been tempted, and if an attack does come tonight, if whoever sent this is watching, I want it known that I am not afraid. I will not be cowed."

"Well, that's brave... I mean, it might be foolish, but that's a monarch's right, I suppose." Saché says wryly from the bed where she is sitting. She motions with her hand invitingly and adds, "Come Yané. I need your help with the accessories."

Yané nods numbly, and Saché stands, wraps an arm around the shaken young girl, and leads her away. Padmé appreciates the kindness.

"Are you quite sure about this, ma'am?" Fé asks timidly.

"Yes, I am."

"She always is." Eirtaé shakes her head, and nothing more is said on the subject. Rabé just sighs and begins to comb Padmé's hair.

"Fé," Padmé has one more direction. "Could you get two Jonkils? I want them with the Iris."

"Yes, ma'am."

Padmé supposes she should be more affected. All of her handmaidens seem to be, but she really is far more concerned with who did it, and how they got in her bedroom. It must be a Nabooan, probably. Flower language is notoriously complex, and most citizens don't know much about it, beyond basics, but the purple iris is a well-known death threat. It's recorded in a lot of popular Nabooan literature. It's unlikely that an off-worlder would know about it, unless they were told. Padmé's greatest concern is that it might be the Sith. She had been told of them in the strictest of confidences by the Jedi. There might be one other left, and while they probably have no further interest in Naboo, the Jedi suspect the Trade Federation might have been allied with them, they may still want vengeance on her for this upset. Padmé does not like the idea of a Force-Sensitive, and powerful individual interfering in her rule. She likes the idea that he or she may have had inside help even less. That is what really bothers her. Her people have suffered enough. She will have to keep an eye out.

Death does not scare her though. She doesn't want to die, but there's no hideout from death. It comes for everyone. If anything, the fact that she has received a threat is proof of a job done well. Padmé feels energised from her exhaustion by this threat. It's the highest compliment she's received to date. In politics, death threats are about the only genuine compliments you might ever receive. She may as well appreciate it.

Hours later as the gathering is dying down, she thinks she couldn't have been more right. The meal had been pleasant enough, but she and Boss Nass had exchanged a lot of meaningless drivel in the name of diplomacy. While Padmé does respect him, other rulers might have ignored her plea for an alliance out of hand, she hadn't enjoyed the talk. He was a braggart. He does seem to be progressive, and forward-thinking, but Padmé also thinks he is vain. If she hadn't tickled his ego days previously, he might have let both their peoples suffer, but he’d liked her kneeling before him, and that is why he allied with her. Padmé doesn't really care that she'd had to kneel before him, but feels vanity like that is a poor trait to have in a leader. Your ruler should not be manipulated by compliments-in part because they are easily given and rarely meant. Did he really think that because she was young she was easily fooled?

"Your Majesty," a voice calls from behind her. She turns.

"Chancellor Palpatine."

"I wished to give you my regards here, Your Majesty, as I will be leaving early tomorrow for Coruscant. I feel it is best to waste no further time, as we strive to restore Naboo to her former glory."

"We thank you, Chancellor."

"Yes, yes, but I must say, you're being very bold, ma'am, wearing that particular colour in your hair. You might invoke the interest of great powers, and that is a dangerous place to be in. They may well smite you for your arrogance."

Padmé smiles with an edge.

"It would appear, Chancellor, that I have already invoked the interest of great powers, as you call them. Otherwise, I would never have received this flower in the first place. It was found on my bedspread, you see. It cannot be undone. So let us discover what a mere mortal, such as I, might be allowed to accomplish before she is struck. This does not scare me, nor cause me to falter in my ambitions, Chancellor, but rather it spurs me to greater heights. If I do have so little time left, I must be sure to wield it wisely."

"Have you no fear of death?"

"Death comes for all; it is futile to fear it. Rather, I am comforted. All heroines who have been issued such a flower in history have received it as a result of their actions. However, short my life might be, the same reason I have been threatened with premature death, is what shall immortalise me. Death is common, but to be remembered is rare."

"You are brave, girl, but I hope not foolish. History will remember you, of course, but what shall they say of you? Do tread carefully, my child. I truly could not bear to lose you."

"I thank you, Chancellor, for your concern, but I would ask that you direct your concerns into your work at the Senate. That will be the best help. Hopefully, we may create a better world."

"Indeed, we shall." He bowed. "I shall take my leave of you, Your Majesty, and I do wish you the very best to come." He leaves and his two guards follow.

Padmé self-consciously touches the three flowers in her hair, one deep purple, and two small and white. What she had not told Palpatine was that she had deliberately accepted the Iris with her left hand, and had weaved it into the left side of her hair. Few knew that the left was the negative in flower language, but Padmé did. Perhaps, it couldn't undo the vow of vengeance, but it meant that she would not accept it lying down, not without a fight, and the Jonkil flowers she had weaved in with it meant "affection returned." As far as Padmé is concerned, if she dies young as a result of this oath, the favour will be returned to the giver twice over. Padmé might accept death, but she takes nothing lying down.

A/N: 36 is a significant number on Naboo. 3 is the most stable of numbers, and one of the more powerful ones. 6 is double 3, and is the number of doors that hold back Chaos in their mythology as a result. Finally, as 3+6=9 which is the number of completion, as it has 3 3s, 36 is a good number to be. Funnily enough, when I was thinking of an appropriate number for a queen to die young, I thought 30. Then, I realised that 36 Nabooan years was 30 standard years, which is what I meant anyway, so I settled on 36. It fits Naboo's mythology better, and had much more appropriate symbolism, but also still conveyed a terribly young death.

Then, I had a startling realisation, which is that it is 36 years from TPM to RoTJ. I always meant for this story to be about Padmé not taking her death lying down, but now it's even better. She dies before her thirtieth standard birthday, (before 36 years), but Palpatine also dies 36 years after threatening her: How poetic.

Just for double the fun, Luke and Leia are her Jonkil flowers, and Anakin is her Iris of vengeance. Between the three of them, and three is a powerful number, Padmé is avenged over Endor. It takes Luke and Anakin to kill Palpatine: Her vengeance is returned twice-over. Palpatine doesn't get his new apprentice, and he is killed by his old one. Double trouble. Thus, Padmé's invocation of retribution is honoured.

[technewss15-blog]

The Disgruntled Life Of A GM: An Ongoing NBA 2K18 Adventure

Here’s something you haven’t heard before: I played NBA 2K14 for the story. Seriously. I’ll even double down on my ludicrous statement by saying it offered more twists and turns than Mass Effect. If memory serves me correctly, my ball hog of a player was traded four times in a season. He didn’t play defense. He refused to pass the ball. He fired his best friend as his agent. He picked fights during practice. He wore a tiger-skin suit. He talked trash in all of his post-game press conferences. Fans voiced their displeasure in his playing style on Twitter. He lost most of the games he played in because he didn’t care.

I absolutely adored watching his career unfold. If you want to witness one of video games’ craziest stories, check out my blog that chronicles his antics, or pick up NBA 2K14 for cheap, and select the evil option whenever possible. When NBA 2K15 rolled around, I was counting the days until I had the chance to create another miserable human being, but I was told that the game didn’t have the same type of good or evil choices, and the story didn’t hit as hard. The same sentiments were echoed for NBA 2K16 and 17. I figured this year’s iteration of the game would again refrain from making a player look like an absolute monster, and I was right…kind of. NBA 2K18’s MyPlayer mode may not offer a wide variety of player-driven choices, but narrative intrigue supposedly resides in the game’s new MyGM mode.

Thus begins a chronicle of money squandering and unnecessary firings. With Andrew Reiner standing in as the new general manager of the Minnesota Timberwolves, chaos will hopefully ensue. This is his journey:

Day One: After creating a strange facial hair-free version of Andrew Reiner (in the Nintendo Switch version), I learn of my first target: Eddie Chase, the owner of the Minnesota Timberwolves. His bio makes him sound like a real pushover: “Mr. Chase is known to be a patient individual who does not have any strong feelings or needs one way or the other. He doesn’t require much of a profit nor does he expect a perennial winner. It’s widely understood that the Timberwolves position is a great entry-level position for would-be GMs.”

He doesn’t need a perennial winner or profit. I will make sure he gets neither of these things.

Six Years Ago The game then flashes back to show Reiner as a player for the Dallas Mavericks. He isn’t on the floor dunking over fools, however; he’s lying down on a medical table, holding his right knee.

“My knee – I can’t bend it. Something is… not right here. I’ve never felt this… this level of pain,” Reiner says.

The team trainer says an MRI is coming back soon, and that I should try to relax. Reiner has no idea how this could happen to him – during the playoffs of all times. As he writhes in pain, he brags about scoring 30 points in the game. The trainer corrects him and says he actually scored 36 points. Reiner once again sounds like a ball hog, and I had no control over it. Wonderful!

A doctor enters the room and tells me I suffered a full tear of the anterior cruciate ligament, as well as partial tears of the posterior cruciate ligament and collateral cruciate ligament. Doc says it’s unusual to have tears to these ligaments in the same knee, simultaneously. The collateral cruciate ligament damage is usually only seen after a direct blow to the inside of the knee. Weird. I’d love to see the play that destroyed my knee to this degree.

Back to the Present After learning that my playing career ended at that moment, I now see I am a snazzily dressed guy, with an expensive suit and what appears to be an iPhone 6. I’m on the phone with Eddie Chase. I tell him I am running late for our meeting – a great start for a GM who is ultimately here to destroy the Timberwolves’ organization from the inside. This is my first day on the job. I just have to make sure I am on location for a scheduled press conference at 2 p.m. to introduce me as the new face of the team.

When I arrive at the Timberwolves’ headquarters, Karl-Anthony Towns approaches me in the parking lot. He is quick to compliment my skills as a basketball player, and is eager to work with me. He’s kissing up. He will definitely get a raise.

Another figure then emerges from the shadows. It’s coach Tom Thibodeau, and he looks like a real a-hole. I am totally going to fire him today. Just as this plan formulates in my mind, he asks me about staffing, and I am quick to say that I haven’t thought about it yet. I counter by saying we are just in the get-to-know each other phase right now. He’s totally fired. I hate him.

Towns then makes a critical error: He sucks up to coach and says that he’s here for the players. I may have to trade Towns today. They are disgusting together. I can’t have this kind of camaraderie on my team. A question jumps into my mind: Why are they in the parking lot together? I’m convinced they are into hardcore drugs. They both have to go.

Small Talk I’m called into Chase’s office to talk about my job. He tries to talk to me about world-famous chai latte spice scones, but uses this moment to brag about making an app or something dumb.

We eventually get around to talking about basketball, and he makes the mistake of bringing up the game that ended my career. He then says “You don’t lose. I don’t lose. The fans here, they are hungry for success. The media, they are hungry for success. Every Timberwolves fan wants to read one of their columns about how great the team is. When the wins stop coming, the media starts looking for cracks. Cracks that they can exploit for stories. For clicks, whatever it is they strive for.” Did he almost call media fake news? Regardless of what they hell he is saying here, he is going to lose big by making me GM, and the media will find cracks everywhere, hopefully within days.

He tells me to be honest and open to the media, encouraging me to say what is on my mind. I plan on it. I want this chai latte jerk to know he made a mistake in hiring me, as he’s introducing me to the world. That would be delicious.

The Press Conference A reporter asks me what my plans are out of the gate. My choices are “total rebuild,” “minor tweaks needed,” and “I love where we are at.” My gut says to go with total rebuild, as the Timberwolves are clearly a playoff team on the hunt this year, and this action should make Mr. Chase swallow hard. I could also lie and say that I like how things look, but I have a feeling the game won’t read this as a fib. I select “total rebuild.”

I say not everyone will see it this way, but “I’m looking at this as a situation where we have to strip down the roster, pare it down to a core number of guys, then build it back up. From scratch, basically.” They are probably thinking I keep Towns. Nope. He’s the first to go when I get the power.

I tell the press we have a nice plan in place for getting the team where it needs to go, starting with the draft. “You can’t swing and miss there if you’re trying to build from the ground up.” I plan on selecting the slowest and least-talented player possible. He will make the most money in the league too.

I also detail plans for free agency; another well of despair that I will soon inflict upon this fan base.

When asked for the coach, I try to make out a smile, but this action makes me look like a demon. Perfect. The loser is sitting right next to me.

I’m given the options of “Confident in Head Coach,” “Need time to evaluate,” and “It’s time to move on.” You know what I selected. I’m disappointed with how I let this information out there. “First of all, I just want to say that I have nothing but respect for Tom Thibodeau. He’s a good coach and a good man. But at this time I feel it’s in the best interest of the franchise to go in a different direction. You’ll be hearing more about that as the process moves along, but right now that’s all I have to say about it.” At least I dropped a bomb on him. He didn’t see it coming.

The Next Day Thibodeau is becoming unhinged. He enters my office and drops the lamest insult possible: “Get a grip!” Whatever, man.

He then says something surprising, almost reading like a threat. “One day you’ll wake up and it’ll be just like any other day. You’ll go about your business. Maybe have a nice dinner with your wife. Then out of nowhere you’re going to be broadsided just like I was. BOOM. Just like that. And it’ll be you out on the street. It’ll be you looking like an idiot.” I’m impressed with the anger he is showing, and debate keeping him on as a “Sith Lord in training” for a brief second, but his dumb face is just too dumb for me to look at any longer. I’m hoping I can call security.

I didn’t have to. He leaves, and in enters Ed Pinckney, the assistant coach. He tells me he understands my desire for fresh blood, but says he’s been with the organization for a long time. “I know the maniacs who jump around shooting t-shirts into the crowd. I know their names. I know their families’ names. I know their birthdays and what kind of peanut butter they like. I know their comfort zones, I know their fears, and I know exactly what buttons to push.” Whoa. This guy is nuts.

He says he’s paid his dues, but I couldn’t care less. See you, Ed. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.

I insult him in saying I need someone who has done it longer. He says he was hoping to become the head coach of the Timberwolves today. My firing of him has to come as a huge blow. Excellent.

I am then called into Chase’s office. He says he trusts me, but is already concerned with my actions. “This change comes as a bit of a surprise,” he adds. “I haven’t liked surprises for a long time, Andrew. A long time.”

Dude is clearly not liking me right now. I will have to waste his money quickly, as I fear my time here won’t last long. He then drifts off into his childhood for some reason, and paints himself as a real mess of a person in the process.

I have no idea what he was just trying to communicate other than establish I would never want to have him as a friend or family member. He continues to ramble. “Nothing to be done now, of course. That’s all in the past. But let’s make sure we take full advantage of this opportunity. We call it a pivot in the business world. You start off one way, but that way doesn’t work, so you try something else. You figure out what advantage you’ve got and you pivot. Then you milk every last drop out of that advantage. You wring that bad boy out till it’s bone dry.”

Holy crap, I hate this man. I hate how he talks, thinks, and looks. I inform him I have a specific coach in mind (which I don’t). I then see a screen that looks like a mess of work. A mess I will half-ass my way through.

I have no idea what I’m doing, and that’s okay. My first order of business is to rework my team’s schedule as best I can. I remove every single practice from the season schedule and replace them with rest days. Tons of rest days for everyone. This should lead to a lack of chemistry on the floor – a crippling blow to the team.

I also find the staff page and immediately begin firing everyone…harshly!

I tell my CFO that “I’m pretty sure my cat could’ve done a better job than you! Pack up your things and get outta here!” Bwahahaha! Told him! This action lowered my team morale by one point, and my trust with Nicolas Brown (who I just fired) by 56 points.

I then fire my assistant manager saying “You have been the worst sidekick in the history of sidekicks. You make the Scarecrow look like a superhero.” Whoa. A Batman reference! Love it! This firing not only lowered my team morale by five points, it also delivered one of the worst comebacks ever.

My joy may turn to dust in my mouth. That’s your response? Really? Since I don’t have a head coach or an assistant coach, I just have the head scout and trainer to fire. I’m somewhat civil with the head scout, telling him “We’re changing things around here and you’re not a part of our plans going forward. So, if you could just go ahead and pack up your stuff and get out, that would be terrific. Okay?” He responds brilliantly.

“Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler.”

I should have kept him. The team didn’t seem to care that much for him, however, with just one point in morale dropping. I tell the trainer “You’ve been canned like spam!” I regret that one, folks. My A.I.-driven dude has been pretty cool up to this line, but I can’t back that one up. The trainer rightfully threatens me.

“Tread lightly…”

Losing him results in another huge drop of five morale with the team. I now have no staff around me. We are free-falling and the season hasn’t even started. The game alerts me of the openings with a notice of “If you choose to automatically fill all vacancies, they will be filled by minimum wage coaches. Remember that the few least skilled staff free agents will always sign with you, independent of contract length and wage.”

“Minimum wage coaches” is music to my ears. Why not, right? I could always fire them if they start putting something meaningful together.

  And that’s going to conclude the first entry of this ongoing saga. I’ll be back soon with another huge update showing what happens when the season begins…

The Disgruntled Life Of A GM: An Ongoing NBA 2K18 Adventure was originally published on Tech News Center Generation

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 26- An Obitine Story

The wedding has been set for four months from now, and Satine already couldn’t stand the idea. Korkie, Tristan, Mara, and apparently Tyra too, were now all on Concordia dealing with the Sith Temple, while the Duchess was entertaining Count Dooku. Celebrations for Queen Mara’s birthday were underway as well, and Satine found herself explaining the tradition to her fiance.

“I give a speech and we light paper flowers,” Satine stated, “then send them out on the water.”

“Quaint,” Dooku decided, taking a bite of breakfast, “is there dancing?”

“Naturally.”

The Count smiled.

“Honestly, Dooku,” Satine pointed, “you better not get any stupid ideas.”

The Count only smiled wider, “I make no promises.”

The Duchess sighed, “Dear me.”

Dooku laughed loudly, attracting some attention from farther down the table where Countess Bralor and Saxon were sitting. Satine gave them a polite nod.

“The populace is beginning to like me more,” Dooku observed, “only the old Countesses are unsure.”

“They are cautious,” Satine offered, “time has made them that way.”

The Count gestured with his wine, “As are you.”

“War makes us that way.” 

“Speaking of which,” Dooku interjected, “we must discuss how you will help the war effort.”

“We are a peaceful people.” Satine frowned.

“Offer optional recruitment,” the Count suggested, “and Mandalore has good trade deals with the Republic.”

“Oh no,” Satine almost turned green, “that will have to be broken off.”

“Use everything to your advantage, Satine,” Dooku replied, “that’s how we win.”

The Duchess did not like the use of the word “we”, but she allowed it, her mind drifted to Obi-Wan and what he would think of that.

“You should stop thinking about him,” the Count whispered, “we’re engaged and he’s on the other side.”

“At least I won’t have to meet him on the battlefield.” Satine sighed.

“No,” the Duchess looked up to see the Count smile, “that’s my job.”

Satine shivered.

“Cold?” Dooku questioned with a smile.

“Yes,” the Duchess lied, “my wedding dress will have to be long-sleeved.”

The Count raised an eyebrow, “Have you started planning?” 

Satine hesitated, “My seamstresses seem ready to go into battle.”

“It’s good they have a lovely canvas then.”

The Duchess did not know how to respond to that, she did not like it and worried about where that comment might lead.

The Count smirked, “I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“I will not deny that fact,” Satine set down her spoon, “however as I am no longer hungry, I would say this meal is finished.”

Satine stood, scraping her chair back and held out her hand to Dooku. The Count took it and led the Duchess from dinner to an outdoor evening party for their guests.

“May I get you something to drink?” Dooku offered.

“If we’re going to keep talking I find alcohol mandatory.” Satine replied.

The Count actually winked at her before heading to the bar, the Duchess shivered.

“You do not like him,” Countess Saxon observed, coming up behind Satine, “and you do not like this arrangement.”

“I do not.” Satine agreed.

“Keep your head, Duchess,” Countess Bralor advised, “the Count is a master manipulator.”

“I will.” Satie promised.

The Countesses left and Dooku returned with the drinks.

“What did they want?”

“Information,” Satine replied, “they always do.”

“Information is a powerful resource.” Dooku nods.

Forcing herself not to think of her children, the Duchess scanned the party, eyes falling on the Prime Minister making her way towards her.

Satine turned to the Count, “Excuse me.”

“Death Watch has allied with bounty hunters and pirates to try and capture you or the Count,” Jaru Djarin frowned, “were you aware?”

“No,” Satine frowned, “I believe the Count feels that he shouldn’t worry.”

“I suggest you call your sister,” the Prime Minister continued, “you must ensure her help.”

With a nod, Satine left the public servant and climbed the steps to her room. She locked the doors and lowered the blinds in her personal parlor, then turned on her comm. Satine had to ring three times to get an answer.

“What do you want?” Bo-Katan hissed.

“Well, for a start, confirmation that you won’t kill me.” Satine replied coolly.

Bo-Katan snorted, “Wow.”

“The wedding date has been set.” the Duchess offered.

“We heard.”

“Bo-”

“No, Satine,” the criminal hissed, “you promised us something and didn't deliver.”

“What time works best for you?”

“Sooner rather than later,” Bo-Katan stated, “we hate him.”

“Do you have reach on Concordia?” Satine asked.

“Yes.”

“There’s an underground Sith Temple there that he wants to visit,” Satine frowned, “I just have to find out when he’s going.”

“Good,” Bo-Katan nodded, “call me when you have more info.”

An hour later, Korkie and his siblings returned, battered, bruised, and smiling.

“Quickly, children,” Satine ushered them in through the back door, “before anyone sees you.”

The Duchess directed the children to their usual rooms, where she had clothes waiting for them.

“Mothers worry.” was her response when asked about it by Tristan.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Lady Mother,” Mara clapped, “we got kyber crystals!”

“What?”

“The crystals that make lightsabers,” Tyra explained, “we-”

“Tyra Satine,” the Duchess said sternly, “don’t you corrupt your siblings with Jedi nonsense.”

“We don’t even have the parts to make lightsabers,” Mara offered, “also, we collected a bunch.”

She opened a bag and Satine gawked. Hundreds of small crystals glimmered inside.

“Those can go in the safe.” she ordered, holding out her arms.

“Your Grace?”

“Hera,” Satine smiled, closing the bag, “will you bandage up my children?”

“Of course,” the nurse smiled, “come to the med bay, children.”

After hiding the kyber crystals in the safe, Satine made toward the medbay, but was stopped by Dooku on the way.

“I would like to journey to Concordia,” he stated, “is there a good time to go?”

“It could possibly bring them closer to us,” Satine nodded, half paying attention, “is tomorrow good?”

“Yes,” Dooku relaxed, “thank you.”

“I shall see to it.”

Satine called Parna and Khaami to the med bay.

“Oh, poor children.” Khaami ran to the kids, “look at these bruises!”

“We’re alright, Lady Khaami.” Mara smiled.

“We had fun.” Korkie added.

“Are you sure you kids are alright?” Parna asked.

“Yes,” Tristan nodded, “just a little banged up.”

“I want to hear the whole story,” Satine approached, “but first, Parna tell the Ruling Council Count Dooku will go to Concordia tomorrow and makethe necessary arrangements.”

Parna curtsied and left.

“We had good timing then.” Korkie offered.

“Yes,” Satine turned, “Khaami, will you tell the Jedi Council that the Concordia Temple is destroyed?”

“Of course,” Khaami smiled, “anything else I should say?”

“No, Khaami,” the Duchess smiled, “that will be enough.”

After her lady left, Satine pulled up a chair and sat while Hera flitted between her children.

“Do tell me what happened.” she asked.

“No one was there,” Tristan began, “it was creepy, and it took all four of us to open the doors.”

“Also,” Tyra added, “there were some Sith runes on the floor, we copied them to show to the Council.”

Satine nodded, waiting for more.

“We found the kyber crystals and took them,” Mara explained, “I felt like they didn’t belong there.” “And,” Korkie interjected, “we fought Tyra’s boyfriend.”

Satine raised an eyebrow.

“Technically, we’re not dating,” Tyra gestured, “but apparently he’s Sith-Spawn, and his father is the Sith Master.”

“Tyra Satine.” the Duchess groaned.

“I know,” Tyra smiled sadly, “but Korkie set the Temple on fire, then we chased him across Concordia.”

“Wow.”

“He escaped,” Tristan explained, “but Tyra read his mind and his mother is Oana Shields of Harran, from Naboo.”

Satine gasped.

“Also,” Mara interjected, “Tristan can control water.”

“What?”

“Je’er barely escaped,” Tyra continued, “but that’s only because Tristan made it rain.”

“Je’er is the Sith-Spawn?”

“Yes.”

Satine placed a hand to her head, “Let’s call your father, meet me upstairs.”

On the way to her room, Count Dooku stopped the Duchess. Satine was so startled that she froze.

“My Master has informed me that the Temple on Concordia is destroyed,” Dooku’s eyes narrowed, “and that your children have destroyed it.”

Stuttering, Satine argued that his Excellency was already going to Concordia.

“Where are they?” the Count growled.

“Where are who?” Korkie bellowed.

Fear coursed through Satine, Count Dooku was going to kill her children!

“No, Satine, I won’t kill them-”

The Duchess heaved a sigh of relief.

“I’ll have their father’s mortal enemy do it, in front of you.”

Satine released a guttural scream and throttled the Count. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but she came to her senses when her fiance’s face began to turn purple.

“Lady Mother, Mother it’s alright!”

Dooku scampered off as Tyra and Tristan pulled Satine off him.

“Guards,” Satine shouted, “guards!”

Jaym and Gorg rounded the corner.

The Duchess glowered, “Catch the Count.”

“Capture Count Dooku!” Gorg yelled.

The guards took off, running.

“Mara, call your connections,” Satine turned, “have them look for Dooku!”

Tristan offered to find her mother’s ladies.

“Yes, go!”

Korkie blinked, “I’ll call Auntie Bo.”

When he ran off, Satine turned to Tyra.

“Tyra, alert your father of this new development!”

After her daughter ran, Satine followed her guards. The palace was in such a state of mass chaos that a throng of people pushed her towards the entertaining room, where there were many places to hide.

Satine broke free as they passed an exit to the gardens. Making her way across the dark grass, the Duchess followed a group of guards examining the maze. She walked for five minutes before her skin began to crawl.

“Satine.”

She turned. Count Dooku had his lightsaber ignited, and he was approaching her.

“Kal-”

“Oh, now you use my name?”

“You were going to harm my children,” Satine’s eyes narrowed, “all pretenses can be dropped.”

The Count growled, “Then shall we drop this marriage charade?”

Satine swallowed, “My family comes first, Kal, and you’re not a part of that.”

Dooku reached out through the force and grabbed Satine’s throat, lifting her off the ground. 

“You’ve made the wrong choice, Satine,” the Count muttered, “you could’ve had all the power of the Sith.”

“We don’t,” the Duchess gasped, “need you.”

Dooku laughed, “Stubborn as always, Satine.”

Gasping for breath, the Duchess' eyes widened as a clear night grew dark.

“Ugh,” the Count groaned, turning to face Tristan, “stop it, boy!” 

Blue, that was the color of Tyra’s lightsaber. She entered just behind Tristan, shouting at Dooku, but Satine couldn’t hear her over the wind.

“You couldn’t take me if you tried,” the Count laughed, “and if you move, your mother dies.”

The Duchess’ vision swam, the edges grew dark. Then, something moved in the darkness, and suddenly, Satine was able to see again.

“Lady Mother,” Korkie called, running to her, “can you hear me?”

The Duchess was coughing, but she scrambled into Korkie’s arms. 

“You didn’t tell me your children knew the ways of the force.”

Lightning echoed in the distance. Her poor people, Sundari was a weather-controlled dome, they must be so scared.

“Tristan,” Satine gasped, “stop!”

Her son obeyed while the other one helped her stand.

“Where’s the fourth?” Dooku asked.

“Right here!” Mara called jumping over a hedge.

The Count gazed at the four children with something between interest and disgust.

“Who would've known Jedi-Spawn had potential,” Dooku mused, “it’s a shame you all are prisoners now.”

“We are not.” Korkie growled.

The Count raised an eyebrow,“Oh?”

Black fire rose around Dooku’s feet, the dark flames melting into shadows yet burning the grass. 

“Good,” the count goaded, “try higher.”

Korkie snarled and the flames rose.

“Your anger is a tool,” Dooku smiled, “remember that.”

The flames disappeared. Tristan reached out his hand and summoned the Count’s lightsaber into his palm.

“Basic trick, boy, but good use of timing.”

Tyra, who had been inching closer, held out her saber.

“No, child,” Dooku smiled, “I would fight you, only I can’t kill you without your father here.”

Satine watched as Mara closed her eyes and the Count jerked.

“Nice try, girl,” the Count praised, “but I am a Sith Lord, that will not work on me.”

That’s when the guards arrived, making their way around the children and surrounding Count Dooku.

“Take your siblings and run,” Satine whispered to Korkie, “try to calm people down and help your Aunt when she gets here.”

Korkie nodded and gestured to Mara, who corralled her other siblings and left the maze.

“Count Dooku, you are under arrest!” Gorg yelled.

“What am I under arrest for, Satine?” Dooku smiled.

The Duchess straightened, “Threatening to kill the Duke of Sundari, conspiring to frame me, and threatening the safety of my palace.”

“What crimes,” the Count laughed, “I suppose you have proof?”

“More than enough.” Satine replied.

At that moment, a helicopter landed in the distance. Dooku frowned.

“Friends of yours?” he asked Satine.

“Depends.” she answered.

Bounty hunters and other underground criminals joined the standoff, and Jaym turned to the Duchess. She held out her hand. 

“What plan is this, Satine?”

Boba Fett approached the Duchess, eyes on the Count.

“Your sister sent us, Your Grace,” he whispered, “she’s sending pirates as well, they’ll be here in an hour, Death Watch is mobilizing, they’ll be here in the morning.”

“The morning?” Satine asked.

“I told Mara we were here,” Boba continued, “she said the Jedi would be here in less time.”

“Are we going to stand here forever, Satine?” Dooku asked.

“Capture him,” Satine ordered, “and have no fear, he’s without his lightsaber.”

Slowly, the circle around the Count grew smaller. Gorg gave the signal right after Boba Fett did, and it soon became a battle scene. Nervous, the Duchess took a step back, and a second later, she was glad she did. With a feral roar, lightning spewed from Dooku and sent many of Satine’s guards flying backwards, electrocuted.

“I am a Sith Lord,” the Count bellowed, “and the dark side will smite you all.”

“That’s what they all say.” Tyra laughed.

Everyone turned as she ignited her lightsaber.

“Ooh,” Mara clapped, “maybe the Count should just surrender.”

Dooku scoffed, “I can fight a Padawan, bastard.”

As if to prove this, the Count shot a lightning bolt at Tyra, who deflected it easily. Mara and Tyra jumped down from the hedge and approached their mother.

“Cover us, Tyra,” Mara whispered, “I have a plan.”

Standing in front of her mother, Mara closed her eyes and waved her hand.

“Is this what you want, Count?” she asked.

Tyra blocked a bolt aimed at them and Mara began to shake.

“In my head.” she whispered.

Satine grabbed onto her daughter’s waist, “Stay strong.”

“Keep going,” Jaym called, working to help Gorg stand, “he can’t stop us all.”

“On the contrary,” Dooku smiled, jerking his arms, “I think I can.”

It was a while before Death Watch arrived, and even then the Count noticed them first.

“Ventress,” he growled.”

Around him was a circle of dead guards. Jaym had been brave and brought some back from the tyrant’s feet to a med station Hera had set up, but there were at least half a dozen that didn’t make it.

Mara had passed out a while ago and was resting at the med station with Tristan. Korkie was off directing people and making phone calls to local government officials, while Tyra, who was classically trained in the force, was still helping the attack.

“Auntie!” Tyra smiled as Ventress appeared behind Dooku.

“Take a break, Jedi-Spawn,” the witch winked, “I’ll take it from here.”

Tyra practically collapsed in her mother’s arms.

“Come,” Satine whispered, “med bay.”

Bo-Katan flew down next to Satine at that moment.

“Keep him alive,” Satine whispered, “the Jedi should’ve been here by now.”

“The Count ordered an attack on the planet,” Bo-Katan stated, “they’re in the atmosphere.”

“Good God,” Satine whined, heaving Tyra across the grass, “good luck, Sister.”

Hera was happy to help Tyra at the station.

“I’ll take care of her,” she stated calmly, “go to Korkie, he’ll need you.”

Satine didn’t realize what he meant until she ran inside, all the doors were bolted shut and the lights were off. If Satine hadn’t known the palace by heart, she would’ve gotten lost.

“Korkie!”

He turned, saw his mother, and embraced her.

“I just got off the phone with Prime Minister Djarin,” he shook, “she’s mandating a stay-inside order and letting people know the Count has turned feral.”

“Thank you.”

“Governor Eldar and many of the Counts and Countesses are doing the same,” Korkie spewed, “and I called the Press Association to tell them that the Count tried to have you framed, I sent them the recordings.”

“Korkie,” Satine graped her son by the shoulders, “you did well.”

“Most everyone is hiding in the cellars on the far side of the palace,” Korkie continued, “I also told the police to keep a curfew.”

“Good,” the Duchess kissed her son’s head, “go check on the fighters in the med bay, they'll be happy to see you.”

Satine then commed Parna and told her to calm the palace staff and keep them safe. Khaami would help her. When lightning struck, down in the gardens, Satine ran back outside. Tristan was keeping most of the small fires out, but that meant he’d left Hera’s side as assistant outdoor medic. There were only two medical professionals at the palace, andDoctor Quial, who was on call today, was in the med bay.

“How can I help?” Satine asked, running up to Hera. “Bring people inside,” she ordered, “take the ones who can’t walk.”

The Duchess’ dress was bloody in ten minutes, but when she returned outside, the only two left resting were Tyra and Mara.

“Hera got hit,” Tristan explained, wrapping up her wound, “Tyra and Mara have fallen into some sort of stupor.” Groaning, Satine half carried, half dragged her daughters into the med bay. Korkie helped her with her burden

“There’s no more room,” Doctor Quial called, “if they’re not wounded, put them in a room.”

Mara and Tyra were left in their mother’s bed with Korkie watching over them.

“If you have to evacuate the planet,” Satine began, “bring the most important papers in the safe.”

Korkie kissed his mother’s cheek.

The Duchess placed a hand on the side of Korkie’s face, “Be brave, son of mine.” 

“I will.”

When Satine reached the garden, she realized what was taking Death Watch and the pirates so long, a Sith Zabrak was now fighting with the Count. As if he felt her presence, he looked up at her, yellow eyes blazing.

“Hello, Mrs. Kenobi.”

Satine shivered at the voice in her mind, it was cold, rough, and demonic.

“You want to help me,” he whispered, “come help me.”

“Help,” Satine mumbled, shaking with anger, “not help.”

The Zabrak jumped, landing outside of the circle of enemies around him.

“Duchess,” he smiled, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Satine made to turn and run, but he held her up by her neck with the force.

“Protect the Duchess!” someone yelled.

The wind left Satine’s lungs as she was thrown through the air and landed at the Count’s feet.

“Ah, Satine, my darling fiance.”

“Burn in hell, Kal,” Satine spat, sitting up, “you’re going to pay for your crimes.”

“My crimes,” the Count’s eyes narrowed, “quite devious of you to keep your plan hidden for so long?”

Satine swallowed.

“We should take her,” the Zabrak growled, “let me finish the job.”

The Duchess’ eyes went wide, “Maul.”

“Good,” the Zabrak grinned, “you know me.”

Satine struggled onto her knees, preparing to pounce, “Your master threw you away like trash.”

“You know nothing of my master.”

Satine actually giggled, “So it would seem.”

As Maul’s eyes shifted to Dooku’s, Satine lunged forward and tackled the Zabrak at the hips. His mechanical legs were thrown off balance and he fell backward. From there, Satine crawled a few feet to Jaym, who grasped her arm.

“Please, Satine,” Dooku sighed, “make this easy for us.”

“Never.”

Pushing herself along the grass, the Duchess made it a foot before she felt the air close around her throat.

“Hang on!” Jaym called.

Satine choked.

“The poor Duchess,” Maul laughed, “she-”

The Zabrak gasped and the pressure on Satine’s throat lessened. Jaym pulled her to safety. Satine looked up, Tristan was standing with his arms out and eyes closed, concentrating on something.

“No.” Maul frowned.

Tristan began to sway and Satine ran to her son. She caught him just as he fell.

“That’s enough for you.” she whispered, dragging him out of range.

In the distance, Satine vaguely registered Count Dooku tell Maul that there were four of them, but the Duchess’ current goal was to get her son to the doctor.

“Your Grace,” Boba appeared, “your sister and Ventress have set up a trap, the Jedi are waiting.”

Jaym appeared around the corner.

“Take him to the doctor,” Staine ordered, “if he’s alright, then bring him to my room.”

The guard nodded and picked up Tristan, Boba helped Satine to stand.

“The servants have been evacuated,” he whispered, “the trap is in the ballroom.”

With Jaym gone, the only people who could order her men was Satine.

“Fall back,” she commanded, peaking around the hedge, “follow me, and hurry!”

Boba Fett stayed back to enforce the order while Satine sprinted towards the dark palace. An angry growl explained that Maul was behind her, and the padded footfalls alluded to Dooku behind him.

“Help the Duchess!” a guard called.

Satine ran in the ballroom from the royal entrance, pausing to catch her breath in the middle of the dark room. She turned, watching Count Dooku approach.

“Duchess, Satine.” he smiled.

She swallowed and tried to smile, “Count.”

All of a sudden, Dooku grunted and his eyes widened. Satine began to shake with fear.

“Force stabilizers,” he whispered, “clever trick.”

Then, Death Watch soldiers appeared, all holding ghastly weapons and grinning wickedly.

“Count Dooku,” Anakin’s voice boomed, “you are under arrest for treason against the Republic.”

“Ugh, not you.”

“Actually,” Quinlan Vos contradicted, “there’s two of us.”

Count Dooku was put in chains.

“Remember, Anakin,” Satine whispered, “torture is inhumane.”

“Obi-Wan said the same thing,” the Jedi winked, “and speaking of my Master, there’s something he wants to ask you.”

Satine frowned, clearly confused, Dooku however, scoffed.

“Help us march him to prison,” Anakin yelled out, “and maybe if we’re nice, we’ll let you shoot him!”

Bo-Katan’s men and women cheered. The Count glared at Satine as he was forced past.

“Satine.”

“Kal.”

It was only at that moment, did Satine realize that Darth Maul was missing.

[crqstalite]

pt. 12, into the lion’s den, pt. 4.

finally added in tri’ama and malavai’s slightly dysfunctional relationship (where their ages difference is more pronounced and their personalities clash harder). and! the sith court. headcanons for that will come soon!

written: 8.25.19. word count: 3,268

tri’ama’s dress <<

kira’s dress <<

naji’s dress <<

mierrio’s dress <<

note: im sorry i really like fashion lol. hence why kept describing their outfits n dresses.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: teeth, 5sos

character file: tri'ama amarillis-quinn, the emperor's wrath & naji iresso, barsen'thor of the jedi order.

-

malavai quinn is a puzzle. and tri'ama is usually relatively good at puzzles when all the pieces are there at her disposal. slowly fitting them together as she finally finds out what makes the person tick. and then usually exploiting those flaws.

however, malavai is still missing pieces, and tri'ama has yet to put them all together. she's never hugely sure how he feels about her on any given day, his true emotions hidden so far beneath his imperial conditioning that she's sometimes afraid he's renounced his feelings for her. they sleep in the same bed, attend the same meetings together. tri'ama has received the most thoughtful gifts she's ever been given from him, and she hopes she's done the same for him. they've been married for four and a half years, if he has any sort of problem with her, she hopes that he'll tell her.

she ponders if she's done something wrong as she fits a silver headband into her golden hair. she tries her best not to be an annoyance, and tri'ama is hoping the seventeen year age difference isn't what's getting to him. while she's barely in her prime, he's gaining grey hairs around his temples. it's handsome, she believes. but, as she runs a brush through what hair she has left, tri'ama realizes it will be years until she reaches the same age malavai was when they first met. she's only twenty-four, and he's coming upon his forty-first birthday. an astronomical age gap that if they met at any younger of an age, it could be considered illegal by imperial standards.

that would remind her to buy a present for him once they returned to dromound kaas.

and then there's the whole matter of the insufferable, childish darth nox that arrived three days late to the court. choking her out hadn't been as much an act of power than one to remind her of her place. a previous slave, stars what was the academy thinking, allowing her grow her power base like this? tri'ama was aware of slaves that became apprentices to other darths, but rarely ever made it above one. not to mention her reckless actions that often nearly foiled tri'ama's missions. she wasn't as all-powerful as she would've liked others to believe, and she was not going to be brought down because one simple inquisitor couldn't make time for her shiny new dark council position. it's enough to give her a headache, one that malavai's aspirin couldn't fix. and because darth nox is relatively new to the council, they others see it fit to put them together.

did she hate darth nox?

possibly.

most definitely.

but, that isn't her main focus tonight. pulling a pair of earrings out of their box, she fastens them onto her earlobes as her pale grey eyes meet in the mirror. tonight, the court occurs. a three night event, the court invites all sith in the known galaxy to mingle and visit with each other, hoping to strengthen ties between all force-sensitives that tune to the dark side. her pureblood adoptive parents have said they met at one such court. chuckling, she hopes she doesn't disappoint them, taking the hand of an intelligence agent instead of a sith.

the thul palace has it's fair share of commodities, and the luxury room she was given for the nights of the peace discussions is beautiful within itself. the duvet cover is thick, but warm during the cool nights. the lights illuminate her face as she paints her lips a striking red, eventually tousling her blonde curls out around her shoulders. recently, she'd received a rather severe hair cut, straight in all dimensions with bangs and corners that could cut on the strands that just barely brush her pale, bare shoulders.

she enjoys how it makes her look oh so powerful. like the galaxy is here for her taking.

her breath hitches once she senses someone come up behind her as she picks up the exquisite necklace she'd received for life day the year prior, a stunning ruby hanging off the golden chain as she turns to see the dark haired male come up behind her. "may i assist, my lord?"

"if you wish." she says calmly, allowing him to take the delicate chain from her and he swiftly fastens it around her neck. it almost seems as if it were made for her, the ruby cut in a diamond as it glints off the room's lights. well, it was made for her, specially cut and enscribed on the jewel with her name and the date of their marriage. her hand brushes his before holding it to her chest as they look at one another in the mirror. it's rather nostalgic, in the same position when they took their marriage photo after the ceremony. however, instead of a strapless maroon gown, she had worn a full white dress and he in his dress uniform. that day, had been one of her most precious. "are you enjoying yourself, malavai?"

he pauses for a moment, considering his answer. "i enjoy every moment i spend with you, my love."

there's no distinct shift in his ice cold blue eyes, so she figures he has little else on his mind. or, that he knows that's how she can tell when he's uneasy these days. his dress uniform is pressed and sharp, as always as she stands from the chair she'd been sitting in, closing her jewelry box and placing it back in one of her bags. "you've never been to a sith court before, have you?" she questions, turning to face her husband as he adjusts one his cuffs.

"not many of intelligence have. those who've returned are tight-lipped about their experiences." malavai responds, turning his attention towards his wife. "it is truly an honor to be here."

"you would say such a thing. i'm curious how long it will take before someone begins a yelling contest with another lord." tri'ama says sarcastically as she picks up her handbag. "i suggest milling around and mingling with the lower lords and their apprentices, but those on the council i can wait to see until tomorrow. with any wine in my system, i can not be responsible for my actions with them. i'd rather they not speak to me in such a vulnerable state."

"understood, my lord." she tries not to grit her teeth at the honorific, and whether malavai picks up on it or, she isn't sure. opening the door for her, she steps out into the hall, locking it behind them once he shuts the light off. "my love." he says, offering her his arm.

she threads her arm through his, lying her head on his shoulder for just a moment as he stiffens before relaxing. "well, i suppose we should get going, yes?"

"it seems that way, yes."

-

naji is shivering, though felix comments that the open hall is rather warm. she feels as if she's attending a funeral, with all the black clothing that's being worn. her long blonde hair is out and loose around her shoulders, the contacts almost making her weep. she has yet to see a sith without the telltale amber eyes, so while they're uncomfortable, they are necessary to remain undercover.

master delux is with kira, who wears a black gown that trails on the floor (she'd meant to hem it for the older woman, but had run out of time when she'd had to assist with the search). some give them odd stares, due to kiveqil's pale skin in comparison to the ruby red skin of other zabrak sith. however, his story has been convincing enough thus far, as no one has pulled a vibroknife or lightsaber on him just yet.

the other things she's learned, is that sith tend to argue and gossip quite a bit. the black and white clad crowd is hushed, but she can hear the lies and gossip trailing behind her. mostly, they are comments on her clothes (it's rather scanty, a tight floor length midnight black dress with a plunging neckline and straps that she's sure will snap under any sort of stress), but others comments on how healthy her skin looks, and the lack of paleness and corruption to her. they only concern her more to whether they have already sensed her light nature.

"hey." felix's voice is hushed as he leads them to a more desolate corner of the room with only a few sith milling around. "are you going to be okay?"

"i'll be fine." she responds in whisper, as she slips her arm from his to slip her fingers in between his. "it's just...cold."

"sith-ish cold?" she nods, shivering as she tightens her cloak around her arms. "is it better if we stay here, away from them?"

"they'll become suspicious if we do." shaking her head, she stands a bit taller. "look proud, as if you belong here." her voice deepens into an imperial accent, mocking that of those around her without sounding horribly cheesy like the padawans at the temple did.

"i'll try." his impression is surprisingly better than hers, as they continue on around the room. naji declines an offer of champagne from a passing servant, keeping her eyes open for the woman she'd seen on the holo. "have you seen darth nox yet?"

"i haven't. if she's here, she's gotta be short or something." felix says, trying to receive a good-natured laugh from her. she's about to respond her own sarcastic comment when she's interrupted by another voice.

"she is rather short, i'll tell you that." naji panics for a moment, spine straightening to that of a ruler as she hears the voice of a pitch-perfect imperial accent. "why, do you require something from her?"

turning slowly, a blonde sith in a full red strapless dress (one of the few splashes of color she's seen all night, she believes only a select few wear any sort of color. the most common is red.) has come up from their right, arm entwined in a similar fashion as them with an imperial on the other end. the couple is rather imposing (she learned how to read the pins that officers decorate their uniforms with, this is a captain), and she hopes to give off the same air.

thinking of the story she'd told herself every night before her arrival here, she calms her racing heart and presses her lips into a firm line. "she and i were, daresay acquaintances during her time at the academy. i wasn't aware she'd become a darth until now."

"and who might you be?" the blonde questions. "i've never seen you before in her company."

"lord mankael o'vare." she nods. the blonde raises an eyebrow, but says nothing else towards her, her pale grey eyes flickering to her husband. "we were acquaintances during her time at the academy."

"i see you've taken a force-blind as your escort. what is your rank, soldier?" she asks, directing the question towards felix (which they'd meticulously fashioned a stolen uniform into a that representing a lieutenant, the highest rank they could achieve without requiring more pins and questions about his station).

"lieutenant irex fess, my lord." he says, his voice smooth and calm, as she wishes her heart would be. she doesn't look like a sith, the amber eyes not present and without a lightsaber. however, muscles are evident underneath her pale skin and her hair seems to be partaking in a regulation of some sort. the air about her is cold and collected, which sets a fear in her.

"your station?" the male asks, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"currently on shore leave. previously on hoth, sir."

they seem to look them both up and down, considering the pair. however, the woman makes a move to leave naji and felix to their own devices. "if i see darth nox, i'll make sure to tell her a certain mankael hopes to speak with her."

"thank you, my lord." however, naji's halfway sure the sith lord didn't hear her as the two walk back into the crowd. and she's thankful. thinking back to her research on who else was attending, they'd just had a run in with a certain emperor's wrath. with the armor and such, she hadn't immediatly recognized the woman, but the scar over her cheek was distinctive enough that naji immediatly remembered who it was.

and she's got a horrid chill about her, the coldest she's felt all night. naji's frightened, how many crimes had this darth committed compared to darth nox? was she worse? if that was the case, she'd need more thermal armor than the skimpy dress provided.

it isn't until much later during the night after the hor d'oeuvres are served that the chilled feeling she'd felt earlier with the wrath invaded her mind and body again, however much, much stronger than she'd originally expected. goosebumps dot her skin as felix slowly leads her off the makeshift dance floor at her request, the feeling still following her as they make a show of him helping her onto a sofa. she only lifts her head from her ankle when she hears yet another sharp imperial accent break through that of the classical music playing for those dancing in the hall.

"lord o'vare, i presume." the woman speaking is a dead ringer to the description given of darth nox, hair shoulder length and pressed straight with a strand of silver jewelry through her dark brown hair. her dress is less decorative than that of the wrath's, but instead of red, it's a deep royal purple strappy evening gown with intricate white lace over her plunging neckline. "what is it you require?"

she pauses for a moment, unsure of how to answer before her nerve runs out, playing with her blonde hair. "to make a bit of conversation is all, my lord. it has been such a long time since i saw you last."

a look of confusion runs through her eyes, not as well hidden as the other sith they'd spoken to tonight. "i have no recollection of you, o'vare."

"possibly you don't remember me from your days at the academy?"

"i do not. if you do not remember, i spent a majority of time searching for relics for a certain deceased lord zash." naji makes note of it, though she has no idea what or who is a lord zash. she'll make sure to research the imperial holonet for any mention of her time alive or dead. "if i did, i would at least make note of a mankael."

"ah, yes." she attempts to seem dejected at this remark, "possibly you'd enjoy spending a bit of time together? take a walk around the palace gardens?"

confusion is imminent now, but at least she doesn't seem angry at the proposal. "i don't typically take walks, mankael. however, because it is insufferably hot here, i suppose i will take you up on that offer. you and i can enjoy what the gardens have to offer, and possibly a bit of champagne will jog my memory of you."

"that would be delightful, my lord." she says, taking felix's hand to rise from her seat and brushing out the folds of her dress. another dark skinned male strides up behind darth nox with a glass of champagne in either hand. he's more disheveled than many other males she'd met tonight (most gossiped about how the dress's neckline was much too low for her cleavage-or lack thereof), with his collar undone and a red tattoo decorating the right side of his face. felix tenses for a moment before turning back to her.

"sith? you goin' somewhere?" the husky voice asks as he plants a kiss on her cheek, one that the other sith woman does not shy away from. "tryin' to leave me behind, huh?"

"never." she says lightly as she takes one glass from him, sipping on it before answering. "an...acquaintance of mine has invited me to walk the gardens with her. i'll return before you even know i'm gone."

his dejection is as clear as day, but she makes note that their rings are rather similar. with how friendly they are with each other, she figures this must her husband. the pirate that the their collected notes had detailed, she edges away from him and closer to felix. he's rather dangerous apparently, and she has no intentions of dying tonight. "alright mier, i'll stick around and have a chat with the soldier."

"and i'm sure you will, nikky. mankael, if you intend to walk with me i suggest we leave now. it will get absolutely freezing when the sun finally sets." the sith woman says, beckoning her in another direction towards the hall doors. lifting the skirt of her dress to hurry after her, she slows to a walk in time with the inquisitor. being alone with a sith lord wasn't in the plans, but it was in her deck now. whether she played her cards right or not, could lead to a disatrous end to their excursion into the lion's den.

-

"my lord, i'm not sure i've ever met a lord o'vare." malavai says as they dance in the center of the hall. "nor have i ever heard of a lieutenant irex fess."

"i'm fully aware, my love." she says, laying her head on his chest. he smells of after shave and cologne, two smells she's not sure she'll ever get over smelling or hate. her mind flickers back to the nervous energy she expelled, as well as the light, flowing feeling of her aura. it is so much different than the comforting cold of the sith that surround them now that she knows there is something very not right going on. she seems too curious, too bright.

too new.

it does not help that there are other presences here that she does not recognize. they feel similar, but much, much colder. possibly they are in league with her, or they are simply fallen jedi as they admitted to. the zabrak is pale, but clearly corrupted as his red headed friend is. "don't fret."

"what if they are intruders though?" he asks, readjusting his hand on her as they continue along the floor, his gloved hand in hers as she leads, another hand on the small of her back. his brow furrows in thought. "darth nox could be in danger."

"like i said, do not fret, malavai. i have a plan for everything, and this happens to be one of them." lowering her voice, she leans closer to him, careful not to make him trip over her gown as he twirls her, "you may not feel it, but that is a light-sided jedi through and through. i have never felt such blantant light from any sith before."

"are you sure, my love?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. "we could be raising suspicions for no apparent reason."

her eyes catch the long blonde hair of mankael with the only royal purple gown in the room. they're headed off somewhere, and she intends to keep an eye on them for the next few days of court. possibly to prove that mankael is not who she says she is, or possibly disprove nox's reputation.

or both. she'll decide tonight when she's slowly being undressed by her husband.  "i am always sure, malavai. that is a jedi, and she is here for reasons other than falling to the dark side."

"i intend to find out who she is, and then crush her as a message to the jedi council."

[sithhoplite]

Fictober 2018- Day 15

Prompt: “I thought you had forgotten”

Pairing: Lak/Andriy

Warnings:None other than little romance

Summary: Lak thinks Andriy has forgotten her 30th birthday but she couldn’t be more wrong.

*****************************************************

Andriy hated acting as if he had forgotten his fiance’es birthday but he had to keep the surprise that, a surprise. He could see she had become quiet and felt her growing anger at him as her family called to wish her a birthday while he said nothing. When he told her of his plans he realized it was either going to go well or she would try to skewer him out of anger, at this moment it was a toss up.

Coming home after a long day of work Lak was tired and hurt. Even her co-workers had wished her a happy birthday but her fiance hadn’t said anything. She had avoided lunch with him and thought she would retire early for the night. As she walked into the bedroom a dress with ear rings, shoes and bracelet were laid out on the bed. Looking up totally confused Andriy came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

“I hope the accessories are the correct ones. We have a birthday dinner at Chez Kokkinos in little over an hour.” 

“I thought you had forgotten, you didn’t say anything all day.” 

“I know and I am sorry, I wanted to keep tonight’s dinner a surprise.” Picking a small box he handed it to her “Happy Birthday Lak.”

Smacking on the shoulder she unwrapped the box wondering what he had bought. Taking the lid off she let out a small gasp. It was a diamond necklace that had a small red pendant hanging from it. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” 

“It’s beauty is fitting for you. The red in the pendant is from Korriban, a native blood cystal. If you will get dressed my love, I will gladly put it on you.”

Lak took a quick shower then changed into her dress. Slipping on the bracelet she looked over to her very dashing beau. “Can you zip up the dress for me love?”

“Of course.” He slowly pulled the zipper up her back then gave the back of her neck a gentle kiss. Getting the necklace he draped it over her shoulders so it rested just below the hollow of her throat closing the clasp around her neck. Turning her around he smiled. “Force you are beautiful, I am one lucky man.”

A quick speeder right they arrived and walked to the door. She holding onto his proffered arm, the dashing couple turning heads of Sith and Imperials alike. Once seated Andriy ordered their meal. 

“A toast, to my beautiful soon to be wife. May she enjoy tonight and soon our wedding. Happy birthday love.”

Raising her glass, “Here, here.”

As they waited for the food, it was a longer wait than most other establishments as the Kokkinos was exclusive and only the highest Imperials and Sith over the rank of Lord frequented it. 

Getting up and holding out his hand, “Dance with me.”

Taking it he guided her out to the dance floor. He put his hands on her hips and she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“I may be biased but I think I am here with the loveliest woman in the place. She is determined, loving, sarcastic and charming.” he noticed her blushing and chuckled “Are you blushing sweetie?”

“Perhaps, what women wouldn’t at those compliments?”

Trailing his finger down her cheek,”You aren’t just any women, you are my fiance, soon to be my wife and the love of my life.” Looking over he could see dinner was being put on their table, “Dinner is here love.”

Eating dinner casual conversation was made while the promise of a long and tender night hung in the air. When Lak awoke in the morning she was firmly ensconced in her fiance’s arms and a little sore from the previous nights activities.