#mirialan reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 19

Din Djarin + Marking (hickeys, bruises, tattoos, etc)

Readers Mirialan, cuz I like the many different species in Star Wars and ill find a way to work them into all my work.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Dating Din Djarin was an experience, though not many knew either of you were even together. You were a banished member of the Mirialan people, banished for different levels of theft and smuggling you had done in your younger years, your list of crimes going far as you had done what you needed to do to survive. You had ended up robbing the wrong person, and had been banished as they pitied how someone so young had to resort to stealing.

That didn’t stop you from gaining the tattoos that your people were known for. You were not the only Mirialan that had been banished, and a couple of them possessed the knowledge to gift the tattoos of your people to others as they knew their meaning.

As you grew older, your number of tattoos grew, your face gaining multiple geometrical shapes that any Mirilian with knowledge could tell meant you were a very powerful fighter and a foe they should not dare cross. The tattoos spread to the rest of your body as well, one of said tattoos starting from the top of your spine and going all the way down, the sides curling around your ribcage in more geometrical shapes.

You had met Din on one of your many smuggling runs, back when he had just started out as a bounty hunter for his clan, and he had run around in only a helmet. He had been ordered to bring in one of your allies, they weren’t friends, simply someone paid by the same person, but you weren’t gonna let some greenie barely wet behind the ears newbie think they were better than you.

You had wiped the floor with him that day, the agility and flexibility that came with your species allowing you many ways to overpower him. Din would tell you years later, that was when he had fallen in love with you, because to a Mandalorian, there was nothing more attractive than a partner that could kick your ass.

It took a long time for you to see Dins face, even after you went from allies, to friends, and then lovers. It had something to do with his culture, you never fully understood his clans’ ways, but it was how things were for him, and so you would respect it. Hearing how he sputtered the first time you undressed in front of him still brought a smile to your green lips, as his clan or covert didn’t seem to partake in that act either.

Din always seemed so fascinated by your tattoos, his fingers always stroking across them when you stood near him or when you cuddled in bed, his helmet always on even in his sleep. Even when you had dropped to your knees when he was sitting in his pilot seat after an extra adrenaline bringing mission, where you had quickly asked for permission before throwing off his cod-piece, undoing his undersuit, and swallowed down his quickly hardening length.

The lack of skin-on-skin contact had left Din very sensitive, his helmet picking up his gasps and groans as he fumbled off his gloves so he could caress your tattooed face, his thumb rubbing against a line of tattoos under your left eye. Even through his helmet you could feel his sight stuck on those geometrical shapes, and after that day you had gone down on him, his obsession only seemed to grow.

His hands would always wander, rubbing your tattooed skin, and he seemed to have a great obsession with the ink on your back. You could regularly find yourself laid out on your stomach as he sat on your hips, rubbing his hands up and down your back. After a while Din seemed to come out of his shell good enough, as one night when he was rubbing your back you could feel him grinding his cock into your ass.

Din didn’t leave many hickeys for obvious reasons, the helmet always staying on his head, but there were a few times where he would crawl under your shared blanket, his helmet lifting enough to bite and lick as your skin, leaving hickeys near the ink on your skin after eating you out or sucking you off.

When everything happened with the child, or Grogu you learned his name was, you hadn’t been around for most of it. You had wanted to propose to Din, and had gone to your fellow banished elders to learn about your cultures way of marriage. Your elders ended up teaching you quite a bit about the meaning of your cultures tattoos, even adding a new one on your dominant hand to commiserate you taking down a krayt dragon on tattooine.

You and Din settled down on Tattooine for a while after everything, as Din needed time to heal from the experience and the whole, gaining the darksaber and becoming mandalor, not that he wanted it, but he seemed to be the best option in your eyes.

You had worn a thin layer of bacta patch on your hand ever since gaining your tattoo, wanting to keep it a secret from your lover until the time was right. That time was one evening, the two of you sparring in the area Boba had specifically set up for such things, and like the first time you met, you wiped the floor with Din. Though you could only blame it on him not being in the mood, as he was still healing from everything.

You had him pinned on the floor, the words tumbling from your mouth before you brain could keep up. “Marry me” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks turning a darker shade of green as you realized what you had said. Din had been silent for a while, maybe a while too long as you start to regret having asked, but when he said yes you knew it was all worth it.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to stumble into your shared bedroom at the palace, armor thrown to the ground soon followed by undersuits and whatever else you were wearing. For mandalorians marriage was easy, it was just a vow spoken between two people and it was official, but for your people a tattoo needed to be drawn.

Din seemed to almost be shaking with excitement as you pulled out the tools the elders had given you, immediately laying down on his back and pointing at his chest, right above his heart, when you asked where he wanted it. You had laughed softly at him, but the tattoo gun in your hand buzzed to life, and the symbol of your unification was drawn on his chest.

As you drew the geometrical shapes above his head, Dins hands found your waist as he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grinding his hardening cock up into you, tiny soft moans leaving him from the slight sting of the tattoo being marked on his skin.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you started making the own mark on your own skin, though you weren’t able to put it the same place as Din as that area was already covered. But as you started drawing it on the inside of your thigh, Dins louder moans and harder grinds against you made it clear he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Bacta was rubbed on both tattoos to said with healing, which was where you removed the layer of patch on your hand as well, finally allowing Din to see the mark of a hunter the elders had drawn on you. His breath had stuttered as well as his hips as you felt him jolt and gasp, painting your bottom half in white.

Din had shivered slightly as you grinned down at him, though you froze as you saw him reach for his helmet, finally taking it off and letting it fall to the floor with a metallic clank. He was even more beautiful than you had imagined him, and kissing him felt like everything you had dreamed of. When you started kissing him, you almost didn’t wanna stop, biting and sucking and licking until you were both breathless.

Din flipped you onto your back, an almost teasing grin overtaking his face as he started pressing small feather light kisses against your tattooed chest. “I finally get to show you just how much I love these” he purred, starting to follow the pattern of your tattoos with his tongue and teeth, sucking hickeys into your skin along the way.

After what felt like hours of being praised and loved by your now husband, Din finally opened you up with his fingers as he bit and sucked on your inked chest. Gripping his curly hair, you pulled him into a wet tongue filled kiss as he lifted your legs around his chest, pushing inside you with a groan leaving the both of you as you both felt completed in a way you hadn’t been able to achieve before.

Din was still sensitive, he had always been, and now that you were both completely naked you could grip and kiss him anywhere you wanted, even as the movement of his hips grew uneven and erratic, or as he gasped and whimpered into the hollow of your neck as he grew closer and closer to the edge.

Feeling how close he was getting, you could help but reaching down and pull yourself to completion, twisting and jerking your hand in ways that had you tightening up and your eyes fluttering. That seemed to be the last push Din needed, as he watched your tattooed hand curl around yourself and causing you to pulse white spurts across your chest.

Din groaned loudly as he spilled inside you, both of you gasping at the warmth that filled you up, Din almost collapsing down on top of you. You ended up simply holding one another for a while, bathing in the others warmth and love as kisses were shared between each other until you both caught your breath.

Din mumbled into your neck words in Mandalorian you knew meant that he loved you, but a word was added at the end you didn’t understand. When you asked him what that meant, he had almost looked smug as he told you “It means spouse, I love you, my spouse”, though his cheeks had gained a pinker color. You had laughed softly and pulled him close to you again, repeating the words back to him even if your pronunciation could use more work.

[honeydjarin]

I’m so curious about people’s self insert OCs!!! I know a lot of people have human OCs that they use as their self inserts and write fic about, or just put themselves into stories as they are, but does anyone have non human self inserts?

[goosewriting]

Glad to hear requests are open! I just wanted to say I love your inquis!cal fics :D

I was wondering if you could write something with Cal? Lovesick Inquis!Cal hunting an in-denial-of-feelings-for-him Jedi!reader is always a favorite of mine. Literally just Cal pinning the reader down and insisting how they’d make such a great team if only reader would join him. Just anything really, being at his mercy- ugh.

Feel free to write it or not, I don’t mind, just figured I’d put it out there :)

Loth-cat and Mouse

summary: as reader escapes from an inquisitor, old sparks might reignite despite the danger.

relationship: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x gn!Jedi!reader

warnings: mentions of death and murder 

word count: 3.6k

A/N: top tier request anon, tysm! writing the whole force shenanigans was my favourite part tbh. i’ve been meaning to explore that aspect for so long, battle of the will and all, and i’ll definitely be doing it again! tell me what you think pls c: 

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Living in hiding when the galaxy thinks you’re dead is easy. It comes with the privilege of being virtually invisible in a galaxy that seeks to oppress and exploit every living soul.

Ever since escaping the Clones turning on the Jedis as a Padawan, and the rise of the Empire, you’ve lived in hiding, as most of the surviving Jedis did. And for a long time, you were successful. That is, until an Inquisitor picked up your scent and started hunting you down.

This went on for two years, and you somehow managed to evade her, always being a step ahead. You only came face to face with the Inquisitor twice: the first time, when you looked the purplish skinned Mirialan in her yellow eyes for the first time, and the second when you knew what you had to do.

Sitting in the dusty booth of a run-down tavern somewhere in the Outer Rim, your shoulders slump forward as you remember how you had felt her life essence vanish through the Force like a cloud of spores disappearing, carried away by the wind. You knew you couldn’t get through with it with your own hands, so you rigged an old warehouse with so many explosives that not even the strongest Jedi Master would be able to escape. Using yourself as bait, standing by the entrance to the building, that was the last time you’d see her. Your plan worked, and the whole thing came down on her. So much so that it almost took you out as well, but you survived despite the injuries. You hope that in the eyes of the Force, you had freed her from her pain. Maybe somewhere deep inside she was thankful.

Or that was what you’d keep telling yourself to be able to sleep at night. 

It’s been a couple of months since then, and you’ve doubled your efforts at staying hidden, as you don’t think you can take another Inquisitor hunt. Not because you can’t win against them. You already did, and that’s the problem. When you first realised an Inquisitor was trailing you, you were afraid. But now, after defeating her, the thought of going out there and turning around the hunter and hunted roles suddenly seems… exhilarating. But that would make you no better than a Sith, would it? Your face contorts in discomfort as you can practically hear your Master’s disappointed voice at what has become of you.

“I thought I taught you better.”

You sigh. Yeah, you did. But you trained me to be a peacekeeper, not an outlaw. It’s a kill or get killed world out here. It probably always has been, but we were shielded from it, had a roof over our heads, clothes to wear and food on our plates. You smile bitterly to yourself, the hood of your cape casting a shadow over your face as you twirl a toothpick between your fingers. Who’d have thought that we had it better during the war than afterwards. 

Your motions come to a sudden halt and you involuntarily snap the thin piece of wood in two as you feel the air in the tavern change, turning impossibly cold. The constant chatter doesn’t stop though, the few customers currently in the tavern continue on unaware of the shift. 

Rising up to your feet quickly but without making a noise, you beeline towards the bar, turning a sharp corner into the kitchen and then towards the back exit you know of. You can hear some modulated voices back in the main room; Purge Troopers. And where there are black armoured troopers… you don’t need to look to know what else is there. 

Once out of view from the main area, you quicken your pace, exiting the place with one goal in mind: getting as far away as possible. With your mind reeling, you skilfully evade every person and droid in your way so as not to make a fuss or cause noise by something falling to the ground. Mentally, you go through every interaction from the last several weeks, trying to find where you did something careless that gave you away. But you’ve been so thorough with your recons, moving every few days, never staying in one place too long. 

How did they find me? 

This question echoes through your mind over and over as you take step after step. The destination of your brisk walk doesn’t really matter, you just need to put as much distance as possible between yourself and whatever hound they’ve sent after you. 

It isn’t until you suddenly feel your burning lungs and aching legs asking for a break that you realise how far you’ve walked, and at what speed. You ran all the way back to your hideout. Agh, stupid! you reprimand yourself, smacking your hand to your forehead. it must have been an automatic response to come to your current “safe spot”, but if they find you here, you wouldn’t be able to come back to retrieve your supplies. In the few days you’ve been here, you’ve collected several machinery parts that you were planning on selling, but that plan just went down the drain. So you pack up whatever you can carry, mentally saying goodbye to not only the place and everything you’re leaving behind, yet again, but also the potential money you could have made which you desperately needed. With a sigh and a mental promise to do better next time, you head out to the port. Not the nearest one, though; the troopers probably have that one surrounded and monitored. You’re going to the one two towns over. It will take a while to get there, but it’s the safer choice. 

The whole way there, you do your mental meditation exercises to keep your Force signature hidden. The familiarity of it also helps you calm down a little and recentre yourself. 

After what felt like half an eternity, you’re finally at the port, and you go to buy a ticket off the planet. You’re relieved that at first glance there don't seem to be any Stormtroopers doing patrols out here. There is a bit of a line at the ticket shop though, so you stay a little further back by some crates and equipment waiting to be loaded into the cargo ships. Hiding out of sight, you wait until you can approach the window directly. 

One by one you watch the people in the queue leave, and when there’s only one person left, you take a quick look around to make sure no Imperial has arrived. The coast is clear, and you take a step in that direction. Except that your boots remain stuck to the ground. All at once, you’re surrounded, no, enveloped in that cold, eerie aura from the tavern earlier, which holds you in place. You take a gulp of air much like a fish out of water, and you try to turn your head around when you hear a modulated chuckle behind you, but you’re frozen in place.

“Going to the port further away even though it cost you more time. Bold choice,” the modulated voice of a man says, and your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your throat. 

This is it. They found me, you think to yourself, trying your hardest to slip your hand to your belt underneath your robe to reach your weapon, but to no avail.

“Don’t worry. All the troopers are probably still by the tavern searching the whole village,” he says, and you can feel yourself slowly being turned towards him. You were ready to spit in his face and curse him out, but the image before you catches you completely off-guard. While the red visor of his sleek helmet is practically unmistakable regarding his line of work, he threw on some sort of poncho to cover his armour. It’s almost comical, and were it not for the imminent danger you find yourself in, you probably would have laughed a bit.

“Everything has been so boring lately,” he continues, rolling his head back and to the side to make his point. Then, his visor locks onto your face, and he stays silent for a moment. “When I read what you did to the Eleventh Sister, though, I knew I had to come check you out for myself.”

“W-why,” you manage to croak out. His Force grip is starting to get tighter and it's getting harder for you to breathe.

He slightly shrugs, one of his shoulders leaning onto the big supply crate that shields you both from view. “As I said, I was bored. And you get a head start, so…” He pulls the poncho over his head, letting it fall down to the ground unceremoniously. “Entertain me.” 

As he turns on his heels, he finally lets go and you can fill your lungs again. You don't know what just happened, but you’re not about to waste this chance to escape, so you beeline to the ticket shop and buy your way off the planet. Before boarding the ship, you take one last look over your shoulder; the Inquisitor is nowhere to be seen. Or felt. 

From then on, a strange game of Loth-cat and mouse starts. You’d escape, the Inquisitor somehow following your trail, even though you took great care to stay anonymous. Only days after arriving at a new location, you’d find his Purge Troopers looking for you. Every time you thought you might be able to get a break and rest at one place a little longer, the Inquisitor would reach out in the Force, poking at you ever so slightly, just as a reminder that he’s still there. 

You’re exhausted.

People who aren’t Force-sensitive emit a certain aura, while those who are able to tap into and manipulate it, manifest in different ways. Most seem to have an extra set of long, immaterial limbs, able to scan their surroundings. Sometimes it’s like a flowy cape, fluttering around the person with grace; sometimes it’s more like thick and heavy vines, dragging themselves around and scratching everything with their thorns. 

Inquisitors have a very strong and rather aggressive presence in the Force, but you’ve never quite felt a signature as distinctly intense as the one currently hunting you. His whole essence feels like an icy mist, spreading quickly around him and seeping into every corner, looking for his victims. It starts out slow, unnoticeable at first, but by the time you realise what’s surrounding you, it’s too late. Once the victim is found, the mist solidifies into ice, sticking their feet to the ground, rendering them unable to move. The Inquisitor stretches out his arm in their direction, and the mist becomes more dense, constricting their airways, squeezing out every last drop of oxygen agonisingly slowly. 

At some point, his presence starts haunting you at night. In the few hours of restless sleep you allow yourself while on the run, you find him to be there more and more often. Worn down by how long the chase has been going on, your guard starts to fall. Suddenly you don’t dread it anymore, the cold shudders as you walk through a market, and the icy mist following you into your dreams. Not just his Force signature but his whole presence as a whole, it’s so strong, it’s almost intoxicating. The more he keeps finding you, the more you keep catching yourself almost looking for his presence.

Much to your surprise and not delight, you realise his manipulation game is working.

It doesn’t take much longer until you finally come face to face with the Inquisitor. You know it’s too late to escape him, and you don’t know if you can hold your own against him in your current state, but you have no choice.

As if the exhaustion wasn’t enough, you’re currently stuck in a tropical forest, and you can feel the dirt and debris after running through the thick vegetation sticking to you, a thin sheen of sweat on your skin. The only sound you hear is your ragged breathing and the sounds of the jungle. You know the Inquisitor is not far behind you, but he’s been moving surprisingly silently given his armour. More than ever, he feels like a predator. 

Arriving at a clearing in the forest, you stop. Deep in your gut you can feel it: it’s time. Whatever happens, only one of you will walk out of here. So, after taking a deep breath and wiping off your face with the back of your sleeve, you turn around. 

All this time, you’ve tried not to imagine what he looked like underneath his helmet, as you knew it would only humanise him and make it harder for you to fight the man. So when you’re met with a face instead of a red visor, you’re surprised. Whatever mental image you might have had of him, you were not expecting him to look as handsome and young as he did. There’s also a strange air of familiarity which you can’t place, but decide to ignore for the time being.

Sizing each other up from either side of the clearing, you merely stand there, looking at each other. He moves his hand and you instinctively reach for your sabre, but he casually adjusts his gloves, weapon stil sheathed.

“You know,” he says with a slight chuckle. “I only ever came after you because I recognised your name. I personally requested to pick up where the Eleventh Sister left off.” 

Your brows furrow at his confession, which feels very much misplaced. He talks like he’s expecting you to be flattered or honoured at his words.

You deny ever having seen him, and he seems a little dejected at that. Kneeling down, he picks a little blue flower from the shrubs, and takes a couple steps in your direction. Offering it to you, he calls you by a nickname that you haven’t heard in what feels like several lifetimes. 

That’s when you suddenly remember: you had met him once, on Coruscant, when Padawans from all over the galaxy would go to the temple and be shown the archives. You were from two different home planets, there was no reason for you to have ever crossed paths, yet fate would have you attending the tour through the archives on the same day. All Padawans got to spend some time together, mainly to train and spar with each other. You can’t really remember anyone else you met that day, and the events are pretty blurry as is, but you do distinctly remember a Padawan with wild copper hair and freckles that looked like the constellations the Jedi taught you about. You and him would steal glances at each other the whole day, until finally he approached you, offering you a little white flower he picked somewhere. Where exactly, you had no idea, given the lack of green spaces on the planet. 

“Cal. Cal Kestis,” you say as his name comes back to you, like it’s always been on the tip of your tongue, dormant. 

“Ah, so you do remember,” he smiles a little at that. You don’t take the flower from his hand though, so he flicks it away without a second thought.

”What did they do to you…” You shake your head in disbelief.

You mentally compare the sweet little boy with fiery hair that you had met that day, and try to superpose that image with the man now standing before you, and it’s just not possible. It’s not the same person any more. His eyes, once the colour of oceans and clear skies, now glow an angry yellow, his gaze piercing right through your soul.

Since coming face to face in the clearing, Cal’s presence in the Force has been as unmovable and strong as ever, so you had no choice but to mentally and emotionally shield yourself, like hiding behind a rock in a snowstorm, trying to avoid the relentless icy wind clawing at your exposed skin. But now that you know who he is, you’re certain there has to be something left, even if very deep within him. So you dig deep in your own heart for that short connection you had felt with him that day on Coruscant, and bring it back to the surface, holding onto it for dear life. You dig out the warmth, the safety, the certainty that those days used to have, using them as a shield to part the cold wind as you take step after step in the metaphorical snow towards Cal. 

Feeling the shift, Cal straightens up.

“What are you doing?” he questions.

You don’t answer immediately, holding his harsh gaze the best you can.

“I’m reaching out to you,” you say after a moment, the light of your Force finally strong enough to allow you to approach him without being knocked back by his icy aura. The dry leaves crunch under your feet as you take a step towards the Inquisitor.

To an outsider, this interaction would have looked like an intense staring contest. But if you allowed your dynamics in the Force to have an impact on the physical world, you two would have flattened the terrain around you both in an instant. 

During this battle of will and determination, which seems to go on forever, you shorten what little distance separates you from Cal. His whole body is tense, trying to keep his wits as you’re blinding him with your light. You wonder if there is a part in him that wants to give in, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to find within him. Stretching out your hand, you carefully cup his face. He flinches slightly in surprise, but doesn’t pull away.

“It’s not too late, Cal,” you say. Your voice is soft, contrasting the intensity in both your gazes. “Please come back.”

Now that you’re so close, you decide to drop the metaphorical shield you were holding up, exposing the warmth and joy from before to him. His icy wind almost knocks you back a couple of steps, but you let it wash over you. You inhale sharply as you let everything he’s throwing at you bounce off; his hate, his  anger, his pain. 

“Stop,” he demands almost breathlessly.

But you bring your other hand to his face too, holding him, as you cling onto the memory of your first meeting with him and try to emanate that light through his own shield wherever you find cracks. And you succeed, feeling how, for a split second, all his walls come crumbling down and all you’re left with is just a boy, scared and alone.

“Stop!” he yells, as his own hand reaches out this time, swatting yours away and harshly grabbing you by the throat. Pushing you back several steps until your back hits a tree, he holds you there, your own hands clawing at his wrists in an attempt to ease the pressure of his grip.

“Stop,” he repeats, much more collected this time. 

“You’re so deep in that dark cave, you forgot there’s an exit at all,” you say. “You don’t have to stay there, you know. Let me help you get back to the light.”

“Why would I want to leave?” He chuckles darkly. “Let me show you the way into the dark instead. There’s more here than you could ever know, so much power to be tapped into that you’re missing.”

He takes a moment to study your face, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly, which allows you to take a gulp of air. 

“Come with me,” he offers. ”You’ve already proven how powerful you are. Imagine how much more we could both accomplish if we joined forces.” 

“Me? Become like you?” You scoff. “I’d rather you kill me now.”

Cal hums, as if considering your suggestion for a moment. But he remains silent, with you still pinned to the tree. He doesn’t let go of you nor does he tighten his grip, leaving the next move to you instead. Your head spins, trying to figure out what to do.

He raises a brow at you, urging you to do or say something. You frown, conflicted.

“All this time I thought you were just playing a twisted game, coming after me until you got bored. And then you’d kill me. Now you’re trying to recruit me?”

“If I wanted you dead, you never would have even seen me coming,” he retorts with a bit of a snarl.  

Then he reaches out for the lightsabre at your belt, and one of your hands protectively grabs onto it before he can. Cal gives you a smug look as that’s exactly what he wanted, and placing his hand over yours, he guides your weapon up, pressing the unignited end into his ribcage. He’s essentially saying, ‘if you don’t want to come with me, you’ll have to kill me right now, right here.’

“Quite the conundrum we find ourselves in, huh,” he says after a moment, giving your hand a squeeze. “What’s stopping you?” 

“…Hope,” you answer rather unconvincingly, cringing at how corny it sounds.

He scoffs and lets go of your hand, which falls to your side still holding onto your weapon.

“Don’t worry, I can fix that.” 

Cal suddenly leans in, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m looking forward to our next encounter,” he whispers into your ear, and a shudder runs down your spine. 

He lets go suddenly, your legs giving in, and you fall to the ground with a grunt as you take a couple deep breaths now that your airways aren’t constricted anymore.

As he walks away, Cal doesn’t turn back once. He picks up his helmet where he discarded it earlier, putting it on and disappearing amongst the trees.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/N2: part 2 anyone? 👀 let me know how you’d like the story to unfold!

A/N3: the amount of times i’ve written reader getting choked by inq!cal…….. i think i need to unpack something there

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🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket, @wildefire, @ghostkestis, @reckoning-star

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (13)

Chapter Thirteen: Into the Breach

Gif by @trapezequeen

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Omega gets to work on an escape plan of her own. Meanwhile. the Batch aren't about to let a chance to get to Tantiss slip away

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, me making up science and medical stuff, Rampart, Hemlock being a manipulative creep, heavy angst, mentions of injections and drugging for interrogation purposes, injury descriptions (blood, bruising, cuts), depictions of physical and emotional torture, lotta internal conflicts, referenced character 'death', me giving more conflict to Emerie's internal struggles

Word Count: 7.6K

Author's notes: It's a tough one this week and that will be the remaining theme as we enter these last few chapters but there's light at the end of the tunnel, I promise!!

It was another new day and Omega, now back in the plain grey uniform, had come to terms with her predicament now and was growing more accustomed with the daily routine of the vault. She woke up as the artificial light encompassed the room and her cell door opened.

She had given it a while, but she’d decided that now was the time to plan not only her escape, but the escape of all the kids here. And she would find you in the process. But, to do that, she needed the kids to know that they could trust her.

Omega walked out into the room and approached the young female Iktotchi with her old straw Lula doll. “Hello. I’m Omega.” She said warmly.

“I’m Eva.” Eva replied, a tad shyly.

“What’s that?” Omega asked about the hologram in front of Eva.

“A game. They want us to play them.”

Omega glanced to under the tabletop to see a drawer. She opened it and brought out a case filled with coloured puzzle pieces, each of a different shape. “I like your doll.” She said as she fiddled with the pieces, hoping the comment would help Eva feel more at ease around her.

Eva clutched the doll tightly. “Dr. Karr gave it to me.” Eva turned off her game as she said, “She’s the only nice one.”

That gave Omega a flicker of hope that perhaps her words had had more of an impact on Emerie than she’d thought but she followed Eva’s concerned look to the glass windows above to see the hordes of scientists lurking and staring down at them, “Are they always watching?”

“Yeah. The droids too.”

“That’s Jax.” Eva pointed to the green Mirialan that had answered Omega’s question before she introduced the others. “Sami, and Baryn. This is Omega.” She said to the three of them.

Omega nodded to the Pantoran girl holding the Tarlafar baby. “How long have you all been here?”

“They don’t like it when we talk to each other so much.” Sammi said nervously.

“And if you cause problems, things only get worse.” Jax added mournfully. “Come on, Sammi.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” Sammi said dully as she followed Jax to another table.

Getting used to it was not in her plan, but she’d bide her time. Omega carried on arranging the shapes in front her, but her mind drifted to you- if they were all to play games, she had to anxiously wonder about what kind of games Hemlock had in mind for you.

--

“Good morning, Emerie. What’s on the schedule today?” You croaked with forced enthusiasm as the door opened. You already knew the answer, but it was the same question you’d asked every time since Hemlock’s plan for you had been enacted that first morning after you’d arrived.

Emerie swallowed tightly as she walked in with the troopers. You look particularly bad today- your cheekbone was purple, and the swelling hadn’t quite gone down yet and the cut on your lip was still open and oozing and she was sure your ribs weren’t doing much better after the beating you took yesterday. “Dr. Hemlock wants you back in the training room.” She said, hoping she didn’t let her discomfort slip through.

The reprieve from the uncomfortable position and biting metallic cuffs was always short-lived because it was instantly replaced by the cruel, pinching grip on your upper arms.

You were pulled to your feet, and you bit back the groan that threatened to spill from your lips as your sore and tired body protested the action. You watched Emerie walk over to you and take your blood sample. “And then I’m assuming we have our regularly scheduled session with the good doctor afterwards?” This was the only part of the routine that varied. If you weren’t taken to that room, you remained in the cell and had more rounds with the interrogation droid and honestly, you welcomed the training room days because that was a pain you could cope with more.

“I… believe that is his plan, yes.” Emerie said, shifting her eyes from you as you were marched past her.

“Don’t look so sad. After all, you’re part of a great scientific adventure.” You remarked over your shoulder as you were led away.

Right… somehow that didn’t feel so good anymore. You had attempted to sound satirical, but you were too weak to convey it effectively so the genuine dullness and pain in your voice was the only thing Emerie had heard. She shook the counter-productive sympathies away and headed to process your sample before she went back to the vault.

--

You stayed still as you let the trooper tie the blindfold over your eyes- you were used to this by now too. It was only after that was done that you were shoved into what you assumed was the training room that was always being referenced.

The blindfold was Hemlock’s way of keeping the secrecy element of this room intact. Plus, he claimed it was a way to see how your Midichlorians reacted when channelling the Force in a threatening situation because without your sight, you had to use the Force to guide you more.

“You know, for someone who claims to be sophisticated, you sure do like seeing me get beaten up.” You called out, knowing he was somewhere observing this whole thing. The response, however, came in the form of an injection in your neck and your entire body seized up- this was an unwelcomed change. “What-” The internal effects were instantaneous and all too recognisable. Dread and fear started to squeeze around your chest.

“An alteration to my methods. I wish to study how you handle both the physical and mental strain when meeting them together, rather than tackling them separately.” Hemlock explained as he nodded to Scorch to leave the room after the injection had been successful. He then gestured to the four operatives to come into view. “Begin.”

You stood unsteadily on your feet as that familiar haziness and fogginess set in, but you found strength in the Force and pushed it away to focus on the other threat that was about to happen.

You sensed the bodies around you.

There were four of them.

Each one of them were poised and ready to fight.

You parried away the first series of but a strong kick from someone else landed against your still injured and bruised ribs. Winded, you tumbled back a few paces.

“I want you to remember Deveron.” Hemlock began.

You couldn’t help it; the memory of that first meeting was as clear as day in your brain and the warmth the nostalgia brought you felt as though you were right back there. No, snap out of it, don’t let him twist these memories for his own gain. Knuckles grazed the side of your head as you managed to duck just in time but the pain that shoving away the memory was all too real.

“I want you to remember the Reek stampede.”

Your back stiffened as the emotions of that day and what it had meant overwhelmed you but clearing your head quickly, you anticipated the punch to your jaw and took a half step back to avoid it, but you weren’t fluid in your steps and setting yourself again left your stomach open for another onslaught of blows.

Hemlock quashed his own irritations at the lack of progress and kept pushing, though the language he had to use now left a foul taste in his mouth but it was for a greater purpose so he could make do for now, “I want you to remember every bonding moment with Clone Force 99.”

“I want you to remember the first time you met Omega.”

“I want you to remember Kamino and afterwards when you and Hunter told each other your… affections for one another.”

You choked as the oxygen was snatched from your lungs as pushing away those beautiful memories brought with it a different but just as crushing kind of pain. You didn’t manage to stop the series of punches that landed on your nose and mouth this time. The harsh taste of iron flooded behind your teeth as blood dripped down the back of your throat and from your nostrils. You hastily spat it out but there was a steady distracting deluge of blood leaving your nose now.

“You can feel that happy again. I’m allowing that for you. I have them here and you can be back with them all again. Omega is safe too.”

You deflected the kick to your thigh but fumbled avoiding the kick to your back as you felt yourself growing more passive under his words. He sounded so genuine, they really could be- no, it was all fake. He didn’t mean it. It was a false reality.

“You can feel that all again. They’re right outside and they’re waiting for you.”

No, no one was waiting for you. You avoided the strike that was intended for the back of your knee and questioned in a breathless panic, “Where are you getting all this from?”

“Tech has been most informative, and I’ve learned all sorts about you. He wants to see you again.”

That broke the illusion, and it was where he slipped up. You already knew Tech was dead, you were so certain of that and so his lies to that matter had no effect. You weren’t sure how he knew all these references but at least you felt your focus coming back more as you smoothly avoided and parried away a series of jabs and kicks from your attackers.

Hemlock noticed you gained more clarity after he said that, evidently there’d be no way to convince you of that fact without giving everything away, so he went back to the original tactic. “Don’t you want to be with them again? They’re your family, are they not?”

The impact of the statement sent you tripping backwards of your own accord. Your recovery was slow, and you barely managed to avoid the punch to your cheek and your chin took the follow up blow.

“You hear them calling for you.” Hemlock taunted as he watched you go between fighting with yourself and the attackers surrounding you. Your strength was something to be admired but he needed it to work for his purposes and for that, you needed to break.

You could, you could hear their voices, they were calling your name, but they sounded distorted, something wasn’t quite right with them. It couldn’t be them; Hemlock would never allow for such a peaceful thing.

You blocked the oncoming punch but a shove to your chest sent you stumbling backwards.

“Don’t you wish to go to them?” Hemlock maintained the scenario as he observed you.

Yes- no, it wasn’t true! You fought with your own brain before another strong punch to your jaw distracted you from the internal battle and you sensed the follow-up kick coming for your stomach which you dodged.

“You only need to join me, and I’ll promise you’ll be reunited.”

No, no you couldn’t do that. They weren’t here, he was lying. They- This time, you felt the tip of a blade slice through your clothing and across your skin. You yelped in pain but before you could react, a kick to that wounded area sent you sprawling to the ground, and you contorted in agony as a combination of fists and feet stamped on your side and the fresh cut there.

“Enough.”

Upon Hemlock’s command, you immediately felt the bodies above you stop but all you could hear in your mind were the warped and falsified voices of your family and you hated it. You longed to be around them again, you longed to talk to them again, and you knew it wasn’t possible. “Make it stop, make it stop.” You whispered frantically as you clutched your head.

Hemlock gave you that relief. He needed you as clear-headed as possible for the next session in order for his tests to be the most effective and for the results to be an untainted as possible. “You can no longer hear them. You know that you’re back in the training room.” He told you.

His words sank in, and your breathing evened out.

The mental effects of the dosage began to fade but only enough to make the physical pain you were feeling more apparent.

Hemlock crouched down next to your beaten body. “Such unnecessary suffering. It can end, you need only accept my proposition.” Hemlock offered as he wiped away the blood secreting from the various wounds on your face.

The offer always got the same response from you, “Go to hell.” You wheezed as you slapped his hand away and braced yourself against the ground. You gingerly sat on your knees and pressed your hands to your side in an attempt to stop the steady flow of blood leaving the cut.

Hemlock only chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, I believe you’re already there. And we’re not done yet.”

Your throat tightened with fear as you heard the threatening promise in his words.

The images and sounds you’d been subjected to still remained faintly in your head as you were harshly tugged to your feet. Your feeble struggles against the hold the troopers took of you had no impact as you were pulled from the training room, but you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up properly, so your feet dragged behind you.

Hemlock avoided the spatters of blood dripping from your body as he walked just behind.

--

Rampart paced irritably across the filthy and decrepit landing platform, “Where in the blasted galaxy did that pirate abandon us? And why are you keeping me here?” He directed his question towards Hunter.

Hunter didn’t so much as glance up from the datapad as he replied, “You’d prefer we take you back to that Imperial labour camp instead?”

Rampart sighed, “We had a deal. I already told you what I know about Tantiss.”

Hunter angled himself to face Rampart this time. “You’ll get your freedom when we get the exct coordinates to that base.”

Before Rampart could argue further, the sound of an approaching ship interrupted him.

Hunter made sure to push past Rampart’s shoulder as he went to go meet Echo.

Echo came down off the ramp and clasped Hunter’s hand in greeting.

“Nice work.” Hunter complimented as he took in the new ship Echo had acquired.

“A stolen shuttle is the best I could do on short notice.” Echo said. “The supplies we need are aboard.” His face hardened as he saw Rampart. “You really think we can trust that hydrosnake?”

“I can hear you.” Rampart scoffed pointedly.

Hunter half-turned back to Rampart. “No, but he’s our best chance at finding them.”

His brother may have been putting on a convincing front, but it still wasn’t his usual ‘put together’ nature- something just felt off. Echo hesitantly started to ask, “And… how are y-”

“Fine.” Hunter replied roughly.

Echo figured now was not the time to push the matter further, so he simply nodded and turned back for the ship.

Hunter followed Echo on-board.

Crosshair hit Rampart’s back with his rifle to get him to move. Was it necessary? Probably not but he found the displeased look on Rampart’s face at the action rather amusing.

Wrecker shoved Rampart down into one of the seats. “Now, start talking.”

Rampart groaned in exasperation. “Oh, how many times do I have to explain it? Hemlock put safeguards in place to keep his base’s location a secret.”

“But you’ve been there before?” Hunter said, his frustration at Rampart’s persistent evasiveness making his tone more aggressive than

“Any ship going there must first dock at Imperial Station 003 in orbit over Coruscant where the coordinates are transmitted directly to the navicomputer.” Rampart explained.

Echo pulled up the hologram of the station. “Well, his intel about the orbital station checks out.” He agreed reluctantly. “But I can’t confirm the rest of his story.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” Rampart said with an offended scoff.

“Yes.” Crosshair and Wrecker said at the same time.

Hunter analysed the map, “Once we reach the station, we can find a ship departing for Tantiss and pull the coordinates.”

“We’re going to need Imperial clearance codes.” Crosshair said.

“Got that covered.” Echo confirmed.

Rampart interrupted the proceeding with a chuckle. They made is sound so simple, yet their naivety was astounding. “Unlikely. Those codes change every rotation.”

“Which why we’re not waiting around.” Hunter responded impatiently.

“Even with a stolen shuttle and clearance codes, you can’t expect to walk onto an Imperial station completely unnoticed.” Rampart pointed out.

“But you can.” Crosshair countered.

“And we’ll be your security detail.” Hunter added on.

“You just walk us right onto the station.” Echo rounded off the brief by chucking Rampart an Imperial uniform.

This was never in the arrangement. “You cannot be serious.” Rampart argued.

“You were an Imperial before. Impersonating one should be easy enough.” Hunter said unsympathetic to Rampart’s unease.

Rampart supposed he better get on board with this quickly or he’d be landing himself right back on Erebus but there was still one small issue that had to be rectified at once. “I can’t wear this. It’s a captain’s uniform.” He pointed to the rank markings on the top but all he received in response was a series of blank, uncaring faces. “I was a vice admiral.” Surely, they had to understand how improper this was?

“Well, you’ve been demoted.” Echo replied bluntly.

“I hate clones.” Rampart muttered to himself.

--

Omega sat in the cot in her cell as Emerie kneeled in front of her.

Emerie reached for her hand. “It’s time for your sample, Omega.”

“The other kids. Where did they come from?” Omega asked as her blood was being drawn.

“I don’t know. But they are well looked after here.”

“I’d like to believe you.”

Emerie withdrew the vial and placed it in the small storage slots that came from a hidden compartment in the walls.

Whilst she was distracted with that, Omega sneakily stole a sharp implement from the testing kit and slipped it up her sleeve.

“And… is she being well looked after?” Omega noted the way Emerie made sure to avoid her eyes as she tidied up the equipment.

“I’ll be checking on her soon.” Emerie replied, using her words carefully and she left before Omega could ask any more questions and headed upstairs to join the other scientist on the observation level.

Omega watched her go and she let her mind drift to worrying about you before she focused on the task at hand. She’d make sure to see you soon.

--

“Letting Omega intermingle with the specimens in unwise.” Dr. Scalder advised as she saw the girl join one of the tables.

Emerie paid little attention to the objection. “They’re engaging in the activities I’ve provided to keep their minds active. Besides, they are under our watchful eye.”

“That didn’t stop her from causing problems in the past.”

“I’m the chief scientist. I will run the vault as I see fit.” Emerie said definitively. With that, she left the room to go join Hemlock next.

--

“How often do the droids take our vitals?” Omega asked covertly as she pretended to play with the puzzle game.

“Twice a day. After meals.” Eva informed her boredly.

“What about the troopers? Do they ever come in here?”

“Only when we cause trouble.” Jax informed her.

“Jax tried to escape once, but he didn’t get very far.” Eva revealed.

“There’s no way outta here. We’re never going home.” Jax said with a sad sigh.

Well, that wasn’t how she was going to go about this. “Want to know a secret? I escaped from this mountain before.”

All of them perked up at that.

“Really?” Eva gasped.

“How?” Jax asked as a follow up.

“I had training. And I wasn’t alone. Know what else? I’m doing it again, and I’m taking you all with me.” Omega said confidently before she moved the box aside to show them what she’d been working on. “Look.”

All the kids gathered round to see what she’d created.

“It’s a layout of the vault.” Omega explained before she labelled each section of the improvised diagram. “This is where we’re sitting right now. These are the walls. These are the tubes in the walls the droids use to transport our samples. I need to get inside and see where they go.”

“Only the droids can access those hatches.” Jax said.

Omega messed up the puzzle piece layout to avoid attracting attention and subtly revealed the tool she’d snagged earlier. “I can get them open. I just need them not to see me.” She glanced up to the observation deck.

“Won’t take them long to notice you’re missing.” Jax pointed out.

Omega simply gave an unphased smile, “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

--

The blindfold was whipped off you as you were brought back to your cell, but you had no time to adjust since you were hastily tied up again.

Hemlock waited until the cuffs were back on and you were chained to the wall again. “Bring in the droid.”

Emerie entered with the droid that had the serum ready to go but came to a sudden halt as she took you in.

There was no ignoring your freshly bloody and beaten appearance but that was the norm now.

What wasn’t the norm, however, and it was the element that caught her off guard, was the still distant and glazed look in your eyes that tended to follow as an aftereffect of the interrogations.

“Dr. Karr?” Hemlock queried as he saw the sudden and unusual reaction.

Emerie fumbled over her words slightly, “Am- am I late, Dr. Hemlock? I… thought you had business in the training room first?”

“No, you are right on time. I merely… adjusted our technique.”

“Sir?”

“Come, Dr. Karr, you know that the pursuit of knowledge and getting results sometimes requires that we alter how we go about our research and that includes our interactions with specimens.”

What he’d done clicked with her then and suddenly the idea of putting you through, yet another round so soon felt like a very bad idea. “Should we not wait longer? If her body needs to recover more, this session could-”

“No, our methods need to get more aggressive. This is the new approach. Do you have a problem with that, Dr. Karr?” A firm challenge behind the softness of his tone.

Emerie snapped out of it, “Of course not, Doctor.” She handed Hemlock the datapad with the questions and scenarios that seemed to get to you the most. She put the monitor on you and connected it to her own datapad. She hated watching this part the most, but Hemlock had charged her with taking your samples and monitoring your vitals during this, so she had to stay.

The electronic warbling from the approaching droid always sent a cold rush of fear through your heart. You knew it was pointless to resist but the way your body instinctively tried to get away from the needle couldn’t be helped.

You inhaled sharply as it pricked your neck and that groggy, yet detached bodily sensation swiftly overcame you once more.

Hemlock released a content and easy sigh, “Now, today I think we’ll go with your dear Sergeant Hunter.”

“No.” You groaned as you already started to pull against the chains. “Not him.” You pleaded as your resistance crumbled away. You closed your eyes as you were helpless to what was to come.

Hemlock ignored you, “Do you feel that heat, that burning pain in your body?”

You had to conserve what fight and strength you had left so you allowed yourself to let those words take hold but what you couldn’t do was allow him to use Hunter to get to you in this way.

You felt the fire course through your veins and your body seized up with the intense pain it brought. You tugged against the chain, but it brought you no relief.

Satisfied that he had a hold on you again, Hemlock kept the torture going, “That agony, that burning pain that you’re feeling that feels like every nerve is on fire? Like your very being is being burned from the inside out? He’s feeling that too. As it gets worse for you, it gets worse for him.”

Hunter’s senses, he wouldn’t- no, he was safe. He wasn’t in pain. You told yourself as the burning in your own body intensified under Hemlock’s words.

“You can hear his cries…”

And you could. You heard Hunter screaming out your name. Screaming, pleading, begging for your help. They raged in your head, and you needed them to stop.

You yanked against the chains and your breathing came in the form of short, sharp pants and your body heaved with the effort of fighting against the serum’s effects and Hemlock’s voice.

“He’s calling for you. He wants you to make it end. Don’t you want to help him?”

Yes, you’d do anything to help him. You could join Hemlock, you’d do that for- no, stop. You told yourself.  

“He’s in pain, he’s begging you to help him.”

“Hunter…” You rasped with a broken cry.

“He wants you but he’s hurting. And it’s because of you.”

Tears escaped your shut eyes and slid down your cheeks.

“I can end his suffering, just surrender to me.”

Yes, surrender and save Hunter- no, you’d never hurt him, and Hemlock wasn’t either. It was a lie. You thought internally as you continued to strain against your confinement so that the words wouldn’t take root.

“I’ll make it stop. I’ll let him hold you.”

Yes, that’s what you- No. Hunter wasn’t here, he couldn’t possibly be here. You reminded yourself as you tossed your head from side to side to rid yourself of the security that idea brought you… that made you all the more susceptible to Hemlock’s voice and his suggestions.

You had to push it away. You inhaled sharply and groaned, and you knew you’d succeeded when the pain came raging back again instead.

“Sir…” Emerie interjected timidly. She didn’t like the way your vitals were looking right now.

Hemlock raised his hand to quiet her and kept his attentions fixated on you. He’d seen a subtle change in you, a willingness to cooperate that hadn’t been present before. He needed to get back and now he knew the way to do so, “Don’t you want to feel his comfort once more?”

You thrashed against the chain and violently shook your head as if you could physically get rid of the images being created in your head, “No, it’s not real, it’s not real!” You cried as your entire body convulsed in both mental and physical agony.  

“Oh, but it is…”

“It’s not.” You whimpered, but your conviction faltered for a moment as Hunter’s image entered your head and the comfort it brought you felt so real.

“And you can see him…”

No, remember it was a trick. “Stop!” 

“Dr. Hemlock-” Emerie attempted to interject again as she kept an eye on your rapidly deteriorating vitals but again, he gestured to her to stay silent.

Hemlock continued his torment, “You can go to him…”

“No, I can’t! He’s not here, he’s not here!” Saying the words aloud was the only way you could fight against both your physical captor and the one in your mind. You were uncaring of the way the cuffs dug in and rubbed the skin of your wrists raw as you writhed in pain.

Hemlock noted your distressed reactions, but it didn’t matter to him, he could see this was the way to break you and he was almost there. “Just give into me and he’ll be yours again.”

“Stop!” You begged through hoarse and strained breaths.

“Dr. Hemlock!” Emerie urged more strongly this time as she saw the way your body was collapsing due to the strain of resisting the serum’s effects. If he went on for much longer, you wouldn’t make it.

Hemlock glanced at Emerie’s datapad and saw the minor cause of her rather ill-timed and inconvenient anxiety. He ground out a sigh and relented. Her interruptions would only hinder things. He stopped and allowed Emerie to take the droid away and monitor off.

Hemlock waited a few minutes for you to stabilise and come back to the present moment again. You were a formidable adversary which is why he knew he had to have you in his ranks and that meant altering his methodology further. “Increase her injection level. We go for longer next time. No interruptions, Dr. Karr.”

Emerie clutched her datapad tight to her chest and, without clearly thinking it through, started to protest the order, “Dr. Hemlock, her body can’t handle-”

“I know what she can handle, Dr. Karr.” Hemlock said sharply before he crouched down to your level and brushed his hands through your hair before he tucked his fingers under your chin. “Unless you wish it to stop. Why suffer more? All you have to do is join me.”

Your body heaved with each distressed pant as you made yourself meet his eyeline. “Go to hell.” You spat with as much venomous spite as you could muster. You managed a tired, half smirk of your own as you saw the flash of frustration behind his eyes.

Hemlock inhaled and exhaled a deep sigh to calm himself. “See it done for the next round today. Be sure to take her blood. We’ll still need records of how her M-Count reacts to each technique.” He directed Emerie as he past her and left the room.

“Yes, sir.” Emerie said quietly before she approached your side with the sampling equipment and injected the needle into your hand. She gulped as she saw the new dark red bloodstain on your clothing and the fresh blood leaking through your clothes that was now forming a small puddle on the floor. She feared what would become of you if that wound went unchecked. “If you just joined him, it would stop. You-”

“I can’t, Emerie.” You said through gritted teeth as you pressed yourself against the wall and closed your eyes. You ignored the stinging and dripping wound on your side and allowed yourself to drift off into nothingness because that was the only time you found peace now.

--

“We’re approaching Coruscant.” Hunter informed Echo as he came to see how he was getting on burning the paint off his helmet like he’d been doing for himself and the rest of their armour pieces.

Echo lifted his helmet as he heard the words. “All the armour’s been stripped. But we’re still not gonna blend in.” He tossed Hunter’s now all black helmet to him. “You really think Rampart can pull this off?”

Hunter caught it but didn’t put it on right away. He stared at it and his mind drifted back to a very different time.

He remembered back to his squad’s first official missions during the war, back when they’d all wanted to blend in.

But it had soon become clear that that wasn’t an option any of them wanted to follow. Establishing their own stand-out colours had been a significant moment, it hadn’t felt like it then, but it was.

Then they’d only grown more into the squad that they were today. The squad that owned who they were and the differences that came with that.

A tradition that had carried on when Echo joined.

And when you’d joined.

And when Omega joined too.

He recalled the days of Ord Mantell and when Lyra had changed their traditional red and black colours to the hues of blue, red, yellow and orange. It had marked the end of an era but also the beginning of a new one.

He’d remembered the pride and affection that had swelled in his chest that day when he’d seen that his colours had mirrored yours.

But now all those meaningful colours were gone. And the memory of that would be something he’d hold on to.

Rampart’s indignant cough at Echo’s words as he emerged from the refresher pulled Hunter out his thoughts. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t just make it to vice admiral on looks alone.” He had to admit it, it felt good to have his hair and beard no longer be a tangled mess and he relished being back in proper uniform again, even with an inferior rank.

Hunter said nothing, he only turned and went to the pilot’s seat and put through the transmission coming from the station.

“Rho-class shuttle, we have you on approach. Please identify.”

Echo activated the ship’s comm channel as he replied, “This is transport shuttle Alpha-44. Transmitting landing codes.”

There was a series of beeps as they all awaited confirmation.

“You’re clear to land at docking bay 5-tac-02.” The technician permitted.

“We can’t stay docked for long.” Echo cautioned. “This shuttle’s bound to be reported missing soon.”

“Assuming we’re not captured or killed during this little mission, what assurances do I have that you’ll let me go?” Rampart interjected.

Crosshair stared at him. “You’re going to have to trust us. Just like we have to trust you.”

“So don’t mess this up.” Wrecker added sternly.

Rampart turned to the big clone, “Hmm. Mess this up? I know how to carry myself.” He said self-righteously. “You’re the ones that are gonna stand out like overheated Gamorreans.”

--

This ship docked successfully, and it had been decided that Hunter, Crosshair and Echo would form Rampart’s security detail whilst Wrecker staying behind to watch the shuttle.

Before the four of them disembarked, Hunter caught Rampart’s shoulder and angled Rampart’s body towards him. He ignored to disgusted look on Rampart’s face at the action and began his warning, “The Empire betrayed and imprisoned you. We broke you out. Remember that before you try and betray us.”

Rampart obnoxiously wiped the spot on his shoulder where the clone’s hand had been. “I’m here, aren’t I? Let’s get this over with.” Rampart grumbled as he led the way off the shuttle.

Crosshair and Hunter donned their helmets like Echo had done earlier and stepped off to greet the Imperial that had just walked through the hangar doors.

“Who is responsible for this vessel? It is not on my docking manifest for today.”

Hunter took point and stood in front of the officer whilst the others remained behind by Rampart’s side. He remained still and silent as the Imperial examined him, but it was taking more willpower than he’d expected to wait this inspection out. He didn’t have time to humour Imperial questions.

“What division are you with? These uniforms are not regulation. I asked you a question, trooper.”

Rampart decided it was his moment to step in now. He shoved past Hunter and addressed the officer, “My division. And my orders are classified. If you have an issue with that, Lieutenant, then contact Governor Tarkin.” Rampart felt rather smug as saw the name have the desired effect. That flash of panic followed by an immediate desire to comply from subordinates was a part of the job he had missed dearly. “Now carry on.”

“Uh, y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The Lieutenant automatically straightened up and went back through the doors he had come from.

Rampart turned back to the clones and waved a hand towards the doors, “Shall we?”

--

Rampart led the way to the desired destination. “The control room is up ahead. We can access the station manifest from there.”

“Just do your thing and get us inside. We’ll handle the rest.” Echo said frankly.

The insolence he constantly received from these clones was getting to be a little much. “That’s ‘Do your thing, sir’.”

“I don’t think so.” Echo replied in a low, disapproving growl.

Rampart paused as they reached the guarded door and spoke to the two officers, “Troopers, you are relieved.”

“Captain?”

“Report to the barracks. You’ll receive further instructions.”

“But, sir, we just started our shift.”

“Perhaps you’d like to spend a few rotations in the brig for violating Article 15 of the Imperial standing order 10?” Rampart threatened.

The two troopers glanced at each other. “No, sir.” With that, they moved out.

The group of them made it into the control room but the technician was willing to be as accommodating or passive as others had been.

Hunter barely let him get his protests out, he stunned the Imperial but caught his body and laid him gently on the ground rather than letting him fall harshly.

Crosshair shut the door whilst Echo plugged into the system.

“This is taking far too long. Can you crack the encryption or not?” Rampart asked anxiously.

“I’m working on it.” Echo snapped, unplugging and pushing past Rampart to try another terminal.

“Hunter, I had to sideline an Imperial. Someone might come looking for him.” Wrecker said over the comm channel.

“Copy that. Have the shuttle ready to go.” Hunter glanced over at Echo as he heard a series of more positive sounding beeps.

“I’m in.” Echo confirmed as he read the information now on the screen. “A science vessel docked in Bay 8 is set to depart for Tantiss, and soon.”

“Let’s get to that navicomputer and pull the coordinates.” Hunter ordered swiftly.

“We can’t. The vessel is tagged for uplink after it launches.”

“Which means there’s no way to get the coordinates.” Crosshair deduced. “Did that slip your mind?” He directed the question to Rampart.

“You expect me to know technical details like that?” Rampart disputed.

Hunter wasn’t prepared to let this chance slip away. They- he- needed those coordinates no matter what. “Then there’s only one option left. We can’t extract those coordinates. But that vessel is heading to Tantiss. That’s our way in.”

“What?” Rampart questioned in disbelief. Surely they realised this was venture was now dead in the water.  

“It’s the only chance we have of finding them and freeing those prisoners.”

Rampart sighed, there was that naivety again. “Science vessels have heightened security protocols. There’s no way you can all sneak aboard undetected.”

“But I can.” Echo volunteered.

“You can’t go alone.” Crosshair argued.

“He’s not.” Hunter said. “Once you’re aboard, find a way to disable the proximity sensors. We’ll follow behind, then attach our shuttle to the hull and hitch a ride directly to Tantiss.”

“Now, wait just a minute. This is not the plan I agreed to.” Rampart objected strongly.

“Plans change.” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter caught Echo’s shoulder as he passed, “They’ll monitor comms. So, we’ll have to go radio silent. Watch your back.”

The four of them left the room and split off.

--

Omega watched as the droid left and when it looked like the scientists above were not looking, she slipped into her room and used her tool to jimmy away at the wall panels.

She was successful in taking a few of them apart which allowed her to stick her head through the gap and take in the shaft of space behind the panels and was pleased to see there was room for her to manoeuvre around and explore what lay beyond the walls of the vault. However, as she her shoulder and more tumbled down, making more noise than she was comfortable with.

Omega knew she didn’t have a lot of time, Dr. Scalder kept a very keen eye and had probably noticed her absence and so was most likely already on her way down. She hurriedly tidied them back up and sat innocently on her cell’s makeshift bed as Dr. Scalder entered. “Hello, Dr. Scalder.” She said casually.

Dr. Scalder said nothing and cast her eyes around the room for signs that anhthing was amiss.

“Is something wrong?” Omega inquired.

Dr. Scalder only gave a mild hum in response before she walked out and left the vault to go back to her post.

Omega released a relieved sigh and rejoined the rest of the kids.

“Well?” Jax asked.

“Did it work?” Eva followed up.

“Uh huh.” Omega replied.

“What did you find?” Sammi asked quietly as Baryn played on her lap.

“Our way out.” Omega said confidently.

--

Hunter and the others ran onto the ship just as Wrecker was ridding the shuttle of the unconscious Imperial.

“’Bout time.” Wrecker grunted before he gently sat the Imperial down on some crates and placed his cap back on his head and joined the others again.

“Hunter, I’m inside the ship. It’s launching right now.” Echo commed in.

“Get those sensors disabled.” Hunter hastily powered up the ship and set it off for the pilot’s seat to get the ship in the air and in the direction of the shuttle Echo was on.

--

Using the droid transport chute had meant that Echo had successfully snuck aboard the shuttle leaving for Tantiss but where he’d run into trouble was in the form of the unnecessary delay caused by the trooper sent down to investigate his activities down below.

--

“What are you waiting for?” Wrecker asked as Hunter slowed the ship down.

“The proximity sensors haven’t been deactivated yet.”

Rampart- in his nervous state- had already strapped himself into one of the seats in the main hold. “This isn’t going to work. Their proximity sensors will detect us and shoot us down.”

“Relax. Echo’s on it.” Crosshair said to him.

--

With the trooper and his cover taken care of again, Echo was able to get back to work on disabling the sensors.

--

Hunter glanced down at his console as the beeping grew more incessant as it was indicating the ship ahead was getting ready to enter hyperspace.

“They’re about to jump.” Crosshair said, a hint of his own anxieties coming through now.

Hunter’s own resolve stayed steady. This wasn’t going to fail, he was getting to Tantiss, and Echo wouldn’t let them down. “Echo will come through. He just needs more time.”

“Which we don’t have.” Rampart stood up now and pushed past the other two clones who stood in the hallway just behind the pilot’s chair. “He’s probably been captured. Abort the mission.” He urged.

Wrecker and Crosshair only waited. This wasn’t their call to make or have a say on this time.

That wasn’t an option and no one, certainly not Rampart, was going to convince him that it was. Hunter kept his eyes fixed on the shuttle ahead and his voice was cold and unyielding as he said, “Negative.” He powered up the engines again and made for the bottom of the shuttle. He turned the ship upside down right as the console indicated that the sensors were down. He attached to the Tantiss shuttle just as it entered hyperspace.

They were getting those clones out of there.

They were getting Omega out of there.

They were getting you out of there.

--

“Oh, come on, Emerie. You’re killing me here, aren’t you a little early?” You moaned as you forced yourself up, wincing as the cut on your side felt like it ripped itself open more. It seemed like you’d only just finished the latest round with torture droid equipped with the new parameters Hemlock had set out and yet here Emerie was again.

Emerie found that she really didn’t like that that’s all you associated her with. She wanted to pursue knowledge and be known for her science, not hurting people. “I’m not- I’m not here for that.”

You just about managed to open your eyes but did a doubletake because you weren’t certain that what you were seeing wasn’t due to the blood loss and there was the possibility it was another one of Hemlock’s tricks. Getting to tell reality from hallucination was proving to be more challenging with each injection he put you through and this was one of those occasions where you weren’t sure what to believe because in your cell was Emerie.

Alone.

Holding a medkit and a flask of what you hoped was water.

“You’ve not been injected with anything.” Emerie could tell that’s where your thought process was heading as she knelt down next to you and pushed up the top of your uniform to examine the angry knife-wound on your side. Before she attended to it, she held the flask to your lips and let you drink from it.

The water cooled your sore throat, and the small act of unexpected kindness allowed the spark that Hemlock was doing his best to snuff out to grow more again.

You felt a few drips spill down your chin as she took it away, but you were too fixated on the way she was now attending to your injury to care, plus she’d seen you in far worse states.

“Why are you doing this? Why bother helping me?” You hissed in pain as she cleaned the wound and placed the bandage over it. You guessed the reason she hadn’t stitched it up or used any bacta was so that Hemlock remained unaware of the outside assistance, but you’d take any help you could get.

Emerie hesitated; she didn’t fully have the answer herself yet. “I don’t quite know but I do know Omega would want you to get through this.”

At Omega’s name, you felt a new surge of strength flow through you. “How is she?” You whispered.

“She’s fine. I’m doing what I can to watch out for her.” Emerie replied before she unscrewed the cap of the canteen again.

You huffed out a relieved breath. “Good.” You welcomed the final swig of water she offered you. “How long do I have?” You asked as she removed it and got the stuff together in order to leave it as though she’d never been here.  

“About 40 minutes.” Emerie admitted, her voice solemn.  

“Bring it on.” You said with a tight, pained smile.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @dominoeffectsworld, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff @qvnthesia

[thealtoduck]

Reunion

Cal Kestis x Male Mirialan ex-Jedi!Reader

Warnings: You flirt with stormtroopers…

Part 1: Being a mirialan jedi youngling and getting your kyber crystal…

Y/l/c = Your lightsaber color

Summary: After the fall of the Jedi Order you fled to Raxus Secundus for your survival, 5 years later Cal Kestis and the crew of the Stinger Mantis land on Raxus Secundus with their ship in need of repairs…

——

You walked in to the cantina looking around at the different patrons, you walked and sat down at the bar. The bartender soon showed up in front of you and asked ”What can i get you?”. You thought for a second and decided ”A phattro, please”.

”Coming right up” he said and soon placed a glass filled with a purple beverage in front of you. You took a sip and a familiar refreshing taste hit you. Two off-duty stormtroopers were sitting a few chairs away from you, their helmets placed next to their drinks.

They were looking towards you. You gave them a small smile and raised your glass to them in a little ”cheers”. They smiled back at you and grabbed their drinks and helmets coming over to you, sitting down on each of your sides.

”Hey beautiful, what’s your name?” said the one to your left. ”I’m Y/n, what’s yours?” you said in a alluring tone. ”They call me Red” he introduced himself with a smirk. You turned to the trooper to your right and asked ”And you?”. ”Spikes” he answered cooly.

”How may i be of assitance for the troops?” you asked taking another sip of your drink. ”Well, we’ve had a lot to attend to lately and it can get very stressfull” Red explained. ”Extremely stressfull” Spikes added. ”And we thought a pretty thing like yourself might help us… relieve some of that stress” Red said putting a hand at your waist.

You smiled a flirty smile. ”Oh really, how about we-” you started but was cut off by a sudden feeling brought on by the force, a warning? No. A familiarity, a memory, a very distant one. You stood up and looked around seeing no one. ”Are you alright?” Spikes asked.

”Uh yeah… Sorry i have to go” you said, leaving credits and a tip for the bartender. Red scoffed annoyed and said a snide ”Tease”. You ignored him and walked out on to the streets of Tamwith Bay. The connection you had felt was now lost.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, reaching out through the force, trying to find the connection again but there was nothing. You were left alone and confused.

As you wandered home you thought to yourself about what or who it might’ve been, a Jedi? Just another force user lost in the galaxy?. Memories of the jedi and your training started flooding your brain as you entered your small apartment.

You had been made a padawan only 4 months before the collapse of the Jedi Order and the Republic. In most cases you would’ve most likely been to young to become a padawan but the Clone Wars had taken a big strain on the order and because of the deaths of many masters and padwans in battle there were a lot of gaps to fill.

You had been assigned to Jocasta Nu, the chief librarian of the Jedi archives. You didn’t earn a lot of battlefield experience from this but your master had shown you some of the secrets of the Jedi temple.

Once the destruction of the Jedi hit in full force you and your master escaped the temple through a secret passage hidden within the temple. Once on the streets of Coruscant she ordered you to get on a shuttle while she had drawn away a group of Clone Troopers.

That had been the last you ever saw of her as the shuttle had left. Sometimes you wondered if she had survived that night and had managed to escape the purge as well but even then they might’ve caught up with her sooner or later.

You lifted a loose floor panel of the ground revealing a box containing your now dusty jedi robes, a hard drive containing Jedi texts and your twin lightsabers. You brought your lightsabers out afraid to turn them on incase someone could here the noise and report it to the empire.

You shouldn’t even bring them out of their hiding spot, you never knew who was watching. But something told you that you would be needing them in a couple of hours. You went to bed that night with your lightsabers hidden under your bed in case of a intruder or sudden attacker.

You were kept allert by the force the next day, you hid your lightsabers beneath a cloak as you ventured out in to town. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so you just tried to go about your business as usual but as evening came, things would change.

You were once again making your way home but saw people running away from the town square, you decided to check it out. Once you got there you were met with a life changing sight. It was jedi, or at least someone carrying a lightsaber who knew how to fight like a Jedi.

He was fighting what you assumed was an imperial inquisitor, you had heard rumours about them but never seen one in person. They were Jedi hunters, sent out to find the survivors of the purge.

You then felt the connection from the day before reignite, you had met this Jedi before… but who was it? Suddenly the Inquisitor used a force push to knock the Jedi in to a stack of crates, knocking him over.

As the Jedi layed among the crates you caught a glimpse of his face, he looked like… Cal Kestis, a friend of yours from the order. The Inquisitor walked menacingly towards Cal, spinnig his double bladed lightsaber.

Without thinking you forced jump up in the air and landing between Cal and the Inquisitor. You faced the Inquisitor and ignited your lightsabers making two y/l/c blades emerge from them.

”Two Jedi, this just got a lot more interesting” the Inquisitor said, his smirk being covered by the helmet. It had been a long time since you fought or even practised with your lightsabers so you begged the force would guide you.

The Inquisitor slashed at you but you dodged, you flipped over his head cutting at him but he blocked. The two of you started attacking back and forward while Cal tried to absorb what just happened. A hodded Jedi had just come out of nowhere and saved his life.

He watched as the Jedi fought, lightsabers skills clearly rusty but skilled. Cal then got of his feet and jumped, attacking the Inquisitor from behind. The Inquisitor managed to block but started to struggle keeping up with the three blades slashing at him.

While the Inquisitor was blocking an attack from both one of yours and Cal’s saber. You managed to get a cut in down the middle of the doublebladed saber, destroying it. You and Cal then force pushed the Inquisitor at the same time sending him flying in to a stone wall which knocked him out.

Cal then let out a sigh of relief at the Inquisitor’s defeat. He then turned to you and said ”You’re a Jedi”. ”Not quite” you said lowering your hood making Cal’s eyes widen as regcognition hit. ”Y/n?” he questioned.

”Hi Cal, it’s been a while” you greeted. Without warning Cal ran up to you and threw his arms around you. You were caught of guard at first but then wrapped your arms around him as well, it didn’t hit you until now how much you had missed him.

You heard troopers approaching and broke the hug. ”Come on, this way” you said and started sprinting down an alley way. Cal followed close behind. You led him back to your apartment, you gave one last look outside before closing the door, making sure you weren’t followed.

Once behind closed doors you find your arms locked around each other in another tight embrace. ”How did you survive? You were on Coruscant that would’ve been the most heavily guarded planet?” Cal questioned in amazement.

”Let’s sit down” you said, you made some tea for the two of you and poured it up in two cups. You both sat down around a small table and you started telling him how Master Nu had saved your life and that it had let you escape Coruscant.

”How about you?” you asked and Cal explained that his master had sacrificed himself for him. He then told you of the events that led him and his crew to land on Raxus Secundus a couple days ago for ship repairs.

”Y/n, you should come with us, we’re trying to rebuild some of what’s left of the Jedi Order, you could help us” Cal suggested. You thought about it for a second before answering ”Cal, I’m not sure how much i will be able to help you, i only just became a padawan before the fall of the Jedi”.

”To us that’s enough, we need to rebuild with what little we have left” Cal insisted. ”I don’t know Cal, i just need some time to think” you told him. ”Alright, you have until tommorow, me and my crew are leaving once our repairs are done” Cal said.

You opened the floor panel and brought out the hard drive out of the box. ”What’s that?” Cal asked. ”It’s a hard drive, it contains a few Jedi texts from the library. It’s not a lot but it’s something, i think you should have it” you said handing it to him.

”Thank you” Cal accepted gratefully. Cal then contacted his crew and let them know about the events of the day. They decided it was best for Cal to stay the night with you as security had tightened because of the reveal of two Jedis in the city and that he should try sneak his way to the ship at the crack of dawn.

”Where should i sleep?” Cal asked, looking around your small apartment, there weren’t many options besides the bed and the floor. ”You can have the bed” you offered. ”And let you sleep on the floor, we can share your bed, wouldn’t be the first time” Cal suggested.

”Alright” you nodded and the two of climbed in to bed together, laying on your sides to face each other. ”This reminds me of when we would sneak out of out temple rooms to have sleep overs together” Cal said making a smile spread over your face.

”I remember that and that one time Master Skywalker caught you on the way to my room but he promised not to tell anyone” you reminded Cal who let out a chuckle. ”Then after you left the temple with Master Tapal, i remember how much i missed you and how lonely i felt” you admited.

”I missed you too Y/n, especially after purge. It was terrifying having no way to know if you had survived or not” Cal said as you gazed in to each others eyes. He continued ”But now we’re both here again and i never want to leave you behind”.

Cal then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, from which you didn’t pull back. While attachment was against the Jedi teachings their was no order around anymore to supervise you. You were free.

As you both pulled away from each others lips you brought a hand up to cup his cheek stroking it lightly. ”I’ll come with you, i don’t want to lose you again either” you confessed. You both then fell asleep, hands clasped together ready for the challenges tommorow would bring.

[ivonhart]

the voices 👹

the voices are creating bad batch stories 👹

I’m not gonna be working for the summer and the voices 👹 they speak to me knowing I have the time to write soon

reader is Omega’s caregiver since she was born provided by the GAR (Nala Se thought it best to give her a parental figure during her early stages to ensure proper development or whatever) and adventures with the BB⁉️- would be multi chaptered

reader is a Cathar (I would take creative liberties and give her a lion tail because I can - would be like a rarity amongst the species and yada yada) and survived order 66 with a large distrust for clones until meeting the bad batch - would be multi chaptered

reader is a Nightsister that gets paired up with for a mission from Cid/or they work alongside Phee and eventually falls in with them⁉️- idk

reader is a Chiss bounty hunter and something something⁉️- idk

reader is a jedi Mirialan or Togruta that is kept at Tantiss because Hemlock believed blood with M-counts could help with the project⁉️- would be a short story (1-2 posts)

reader is a local Twi’lek on Pabu that falls for one of the batch (looking straight at you Wrecker)⁉️- would be a one shot

so many ideas I have a headache

also I made a masterlist and pinned it on my profile 🤭

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : XII]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : Finally, you meet Master Vernestra, Qimir's former master. This encounter reveals the tragic story of Qimir's past as a Padawan and the reasons that drove him to the dark side, ultimately leading to his transformation into the Sith Lord he is today.

Status: just finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

Ps.If you enjoy my work, please reblog it. Just liking the post won’t help others discover it.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

[Episodes 12] The people who can destroy a thing, they control it.

The dawn sky over Coruscant remains dim, deep blue shades tinged with a glowing golden hue as the rising sun slowly peeks over the horizon. It's still too early for most to be awake; the entire city slumbers while the Jedi Temple remains cloaked in silence.

In this quiet, the echo of hurried footsteps resonates within the temple. Though not loud, their hurried steps are clear to your ears. Just as you open your eyes, the door to your chamber swings open. Yord and Jackie stand side by side, having sought you out without prior arrangement.

Their expressions convey different emotions: Yord looks tense and worried, while Jackie appears visibly panicked. You silently observe their reactions and immediately understand what has happened.

You step out of bed and address them in a calm, unbothered tone, “Give me a moment to dress. I hope Master Vernestra can wait.”

The meditation room has been selected as the temporary meeting place since Master Vernestra has arrived at the temple unexpectedly, without prior notice, leaving no time to prepare a guest chamber. Yord and Jackie are not permitted to enter, so you are left alone to face her. As you step inside, you find her already seated in a cushioned chair by a large window.

Although you have never met Vernestra in person, her appearance is consistent with the visions you’ve seen. Her light green skin reflects her Mirialan heritage, and her bald head is marked with several black dot tattoos—a symbol of her race, signifying past accomplishments. She wears a long, form-fitting white robe embroidered with the Jedi insignia on the shoulder, representing the formal attire of a high-ranking member of the Jedi Council. Even when she sits still, she exudes an aura of authority that easily intimidates lesser Jedi and ordinary people in encounters with her.

You approach her, standing with hands clasped in front of you, but you do not bow as the Jedi protocol dictates when meeting a superior. Your demeanor remains composed and indifferent, unfazed by her sharp gaze that seems to scrutinize you.

Master Vernestra’s mood isn’t the best lately. Interplanetary travel has left her inexplicably fatigued. She is becoming acutely aware of her advancing years as she enters her century, with both her senses and strength gradually waning over time. This is why she no longer undertakes missions herself like other Masters, preferring to delegate from behind the scenes. She seldom sets foot off the planet Olega unless absolutely necessary.

Who would have thought that the urgent matter forcing her to leave Olega and travel all the way to Coruscant today would turn out to be a minor issue that has nonetheless plagued her thoughts relentlessly? This issue stems from a strange woman outside the Order who claims to have prophetic visions and accuses one of her former Padawans of being a Sith Lord responsible for the recent killings of several Jedi.

Vernestra clenches her fist without realizing it as unpleasant memories resurface. She then shifts her cold, piercing gaze back to you, appraising you from head to toe.

Whether by coincidence or subconscious choice, you wear a white dress that resembles Vernestra’s. However, the feeling it conveys is distinctly different. Perhaps you appear more fragile and vulnerable, as if about to shatter, with your features framed by simple locks, your appearance unremarkable—not conventionally beautiful, but not unattractive either. The only striking feature is your deep blue eyes, mysterious and unsettling in a way that is hard to define. They are so unnerving that Vernestra has to avert her gaze momentarily, avoiding direct eye contact.

“You’ve caused quite a stir within the Order these past few months, haven’t you?” She begins, her tone sharp and her intent clear—putting pressure on you.

“I don’t think so,” you respond calmly, undisturbed. “Most people here think I’m lying, so they don't really pay attention to what I say. If my words have caused any trouble, it's likely confined among a few.”

She dares to retort me! Vernestra frowns in irritation, her already stern expression growing even harsher.

"Others here may not know, but I know exactly who you are from the moment I see you,” Vernestra sneers, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and fear. “You’re a Bene Gesserit witch! Someone like you shouldn’t exist in this galaxy.”

You know perfectly well that Vernestra brings this up intentionally to intimidate you, to scare you into fleeing. The existence of a Bene Gesserit is forbidden, and if this secret ever reaches the public, your life will be in grave danger. Even Sol may not be able to protect you.

Yet you remain unflinching. A cold smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you look up at the high-ranking Jedi with a challenging gaze.

"So? What are you going to do about it?” You reply nonchalantly. "Will you try to kill me like you did to your former Padawan?"

The instant those words leave your mouth, Vernestra’s expression changes dramatically. Her body stiffens, and the anger in her eyes has now been replaced by undisguisable fear as she stares at you. "You... you..." Vernestra stammers, struggling to find her voice.

You lock eyes with her, intuitively realizing she looked at Qimir in the same way when she first sensed the dark side within him. This thought pulls your consciousness deeper into the stream of time, unearthing Vernestra’s past and letting you see it unfold again through your vision.

"Your Padawan reminded you of yourself, back when you were the youngest Jedi Knight in history, and everyone believed that you’d become the greatest Jedi of your era." you muse, staring into empty space, your mind swimming through the endless stream of information flowing in "But time was cruel. You had grown older and weaker with each passing day, while your Padawan was still young and growing stronger. You saw that boy following in your footsteps almost exactly, knowing that one day he would surpass you—a truth you couldn't accept. Am I wrong, Vern?[1]"

“Silence!" Vernestra snaps, her voice shrill and trembling, almost a scream.

"Are you going to deny that what I said is true?"

 You counter, already knowing she won’t answer.

Because in front of a Bene Gesserit with the gift of second sight, any attempt to hide or lie is meaningless. Vernestra knows this well, so she remains silent, shivering, unable to find words to defend herself.

"You already know, don’t you? That the Padawan you abandoned that day has now become a Sith Lord?" 

The question is not asked to seek an answer. You only aim to press Vernestra further, prodding at her until she finally admits the truth.

"Yes, I know," Vernestra lifts her chin defiantly, though her acceptance isn’t a sign of submission. "But I didn’t cast him out because I wanted to. He broke the code of the Order, and I was obligated to punish him. It was my duty as his master."

Jedi must suppress their emotions and feelings, as emotions are the path to self-destruction and lead the mind to the dark side of the Force. You recite the Jedi Code silently in your mind. Some details resembled Bene Gesserit teachings, except that the Jedi Code is far more extreme—so extreme that it ultimately does more harm than good to the Order.

These absurd rules are a major reason why the Jedi Order will face its great downfall in the future.

"His crime... was simply because he had love and attachment for others." You speak, your expression still calm and emotionless, but your voice carries deep pity. "Are you telling me that you feel nothing at all about the tragedy at Starlight Beacon?[2]"

Vernestra's eyes widen in shock, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. If she weren’t sitting, she would be sure her knees would have buckled beneath her. 

She knows about that too!

"I know," you nod, as if reading her thoughts. "A long time ago, you and your colleagues were assigned a mission to subdue the Nihil, a group of space pirates that threatened the Republic. You brought your Padawan along the way and stopped to help the people of the planet Eiram, who had just suffered from a cyclone disaster. It was you who allowed them onto the station, not realizing you had invited the enemy inside. It was all part of Nihil’s plan. They had one goal: to sabotage and blow up Starlight Beacon as a declaration of their defiance against the Jedi and to showcase their power to the Republic."

You recount the images from your vision, weaving them into words effortlessly. "They succeeded. Every life on Starlight—Jedi and innocent civilians alike—was lost. Except for a few Jedi, including you and your Padawan, who were not on the station at the time. You stood on the sands of Eiram, looking up at the sky ablaze with orange flames. You saw everything happen right before your eyes, but you could do nothing to save anyone."

"It wasn’t my fault," Vernestra protests, her voice shaking, so for a brief moment, it seems as if she’s on the verge of tears.

"I didn’t say it was. No one intended for such a terrible thing to happen." You’re surprised at yourself for speaking with such empathy. "But is it really your Padawan’s fault for feeling anger and losing faith in the Jedi’s handling of things? When everyone he loved, including innocent civilians, had to die because of this? Wasn’t it the Jedi’s arrogance and carelessness that led to this tragedy?"

The memories of Qimir’s past flash through your mind once more, as if they’re your own. You see the face of the young blonde Padawan, a close friend who Qimir often calls ‘Imri.’[3] Then, there’s the image of a confident, dark-skinned woman, wearing a dark brown jacket and a blue scarf. She introduced herself as 'Avon,'[4] the ship's lead inventor, who later became another close friend of his and the one he secretly loves, though he never had the chance to confess his feelings.

Beautiful memories fade quickly as the scene transitions to the sandy shores of Eiram. You see Qimir kneeling on the sand, eyes red and filled with despair, gazing up at the sky stained deep orange by the flames of Starlight Beacon’s explosion. He doesn't scream or cry; he just sits, watching as the world he knew crumbles before his eyes. The world of his youth and goodness was destroyed that day.

You feel the deep darkness inside Qimir surge forth, expanding toward you. His confusion, rage, and thoughts at that moment coalesce into words that come clearly from your mouth: 

"Everyone involved will pay for what happened."

Vernestra wants to argue, but she knows in her heart that you're right.

She remembers clearly that her Padawan was the first to sense the anomaly among the people from Eiram. He was the only one who insisted they shouldn’t rush to bring the refugees onto the station without thoroughly verifying their identities. Vernestra agreed with him, so she called a meeting to discuss with everyone. But the other Jedi and the higher-ranking Jedi dismissed the warning. They claimed there was no time for such precautions due to other important missions. They were confident that Starlight Beacon was impregnable. It was not just any space station; it was the Jedi command center and the Republic's primary communication hub, equipped with top-level security. There was no way the enemy could infiltrate and cause any damage.

That overconfidence became one of the biggest mistakes—a painful lesson the Jedi Order learned the hard way and a deep scar in Vernestra’s heart to this day.

She knows that the tragedy could have been avoided if they had just listened to her Padawan's warnings from the start.

“You knew all along, Vern,” you state, emphasizing what she's thinking. “But instead of standing by your Padawan, you cast him out of the Order, claiming he was unfit to be a Jedi. You abandoned him at his weakest moment. You pushed him to the dark side yourself."

"I didn’t abandon him!" the Jedi shouts, her patience gone as she stands abruptly, her body shaking with overwhelming rage. "He’s the one who chose this path! He forsook the Jedi way, consumed by vengeance beyond redemption. He hunted down every person connected to the remaining Nihil, mercilessly killing them all, sparing not a single soul. At that point, he was no longer my Padawan—he was a murderer, and I had to stop him before things got worse…”

“So, you decided to kill him with your own lightsaber," you add, undeterred by her fierce fury. “But you failed, and your actions drove him onto the path of the Sith because he felt betrayed. The master he once loved and revered chose the Order over him and was willing to kill him on the Council’s orders.”

Vernestra chooses to remain silent.

You continue speaking calmly, and for the first time, you talk to her as the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit, not as a mere servant. "When things spiraled out of control, you and the Order decided to erase all records of him, concealing the truth about the new Sith Lord that had emerged, all in an effort to protect the Order's reputation from disgrace..."

Your voice trails off, and a heavy silence blankets the room as your distant gaze turns to Vernestra. Your blue eyes glow with an unfathomable power. "The Jedi murders on Olega—you already know who the killer is, because every person who was slaughtered had ties to what happened on Starlight. And I'll tell you this, Vern... you're next on his list."

Vernestra's anger peaks. She draws her lightsaber from beneath her cloak, but you anticipate her move. You speak sharply, your voice slicing through the tension.

"Don't you dare challenge me, child. I am now the last Reverend Mother, the remaining heir of Lisan al-Gaib. I stand far beyond the comprehension of you or any mortal. Know this: I could end your life with a single word before you even think of striking me with that lightsaber.”

Each word you utter ripples like a tangible force, resonating with the highest level of Bene Gesserit control, as if your very speech is alive. The power in your words sends a chill deep into Vernestra's bones. She stumbles back, retreating several steps as she feels the sheer force invade her mind.

Vernestra realizes that you are telling the truth, and she understands her powerlessness against the command of the voice.

"Did he do all of this just to get revenge on me?" Vernestra murmurs, her voice trembling as she grips the back of a chair to steady herself, struggling not to collapse.

You sigh and shake your head, pitying how even now she is still unable to grasp the full picture.

“He has gone far beyond that," you reply. "He has a purpose now. He’s no longer driven solely by revenge; he acts to cleanse and change. He won’t stop until the Jedi Order falls, just as it happened to the Bene Gesserit in the past.”

The more Vernestra listens, the deeper her fear grows. 

She swallows the dryness in her throat, her voice barely a whisper. “Is there no way to stop this?” Vernestra asks, her eyes still reflecting a glimmer of hope, pleading for an answer that only a visionary could provide.

“Everything arises, sustains for a while, and ceases to exist,” you say, lifting your gaze to meet hers. You let out a heavy sigh. “Your role is just a small piece in the grand design of fate. There’s nothing you can do now except wait.”

“Wait? What am I supposed to wait for?”

You turn your gaze away from Vernestra and look out the window, where the soft sunlight filters through. You allow your mind to drift into the vision of time once more. “Judgment,” your answer comes as a whisper filled with bitterness. “For both you and me, it’s drawing near.”

The waiting ends sooner than expected. 

A week later, after Master Vernestra Rwoh received the prophecy about the future from you, she was found dead in the temple at Olega. Her life ended quietly, yet with unbearable suffering. They say the state of her body was nearly unrecognizable, especially with the deep, cross-shaped wounds that had been carved into her back.

The murderer leaves a message behind, its contents known only to the Jedi handling the case.

You learn all of this firsthand when Master Sol arrives on Coruscant, summoned back from Arkinnea to once again take charge of the investigation. The brutal killing of a high-ranking Jedi sends shockwaves through the very core of the Jedi Order, especially as the victim is one of the most renowned Jedi of the era.

Vernestra’s death sparks questions in people's minds—if even a Jedi's life isn't safe, how can citizens ever hope to be?

Facing Sol this time feels no different from your last meeting on Olega. You and he sit in a closed, windowless interrogation room, the atmosphere heavy with tension and unease. But this time, Sol looks even more worn out. The weight of pressure from both the public and the Order clearly affects him, making him appear years older within just a few days.

Sol clears his throat lightly, his bleary eyes glancing at you cautiously. Whenever you meet, you sense his fear towards you, but this time, it’s even more palpable. Even you aren't quite sure why.

After a moment of tense silence, Sol finally breaks it. "Before Vernestra died, she sent me a confidential message revealing everything about her former Padawan, including the details of what she and you discussed privately."

He pauses briefly, then pulls an envelope from his cloak and places it on the table, pushing it towards you. His movements, as you observe closely, are filled with tension you've never seen before.

"Inside are images from the crime scene. The murderer left a message on the wall. I believe that message was meant for you."

Your heart pounds with fear, a chill running through your veins as your eyes lock on the envelope before you, unblinking.

It takes you a while to gather the courage to pick it up and open it. Your hand pulls out a photograph—an image of Vernestra's private chamber, which shows signs of a violent struggle and blood scattered everywhere. But the most striking detail is the message written in blood on the wall—a chilling statement that reads, 'You can't run away from me.' 

You know instantly that he is talking about you.

In that moment, you feel the looming catastrophe ahead—a calamity that threatens not just you but everyone involved.

The end of this story is inevitable, but what form will that ending take? 

Even you can't find the answer.

Footnotes:

[1]Vernestra's nickname is 'Vern' and according to canon, she doesn't like people calling her that. So when 'You' keeps calling her 'Vern' over and over, it's totally on purpose just to mess with her.

[2]This part references the Destruction of Starlight Beacon from Star Wars: The High Republic, originally set when Vernestra first becomes a Jedi Knight with Imri Cantaros as her Padawan. I have altered the timeline and details to fit the fan fiction, making Qimir Vernestra's sole Padawan and placing him at the event.

[3] Here's a small Easter egg: I decided to adapt Imri Cantaros (Vernestra's former Padawan) to be Qimir's close friend, aligning it with Star Wars canon.

[4] Another Easter egg is the character Avon Sunvale, who plays a significant role in Star Wars: The High Republic as the daughter of a senator and a talented inventor, whom Vernestra Rwoh was assigned to protect. In my fan fiction, she is a close friend to both Imri and Qimir, and also someone Qimir secretly loves.

Ps. And if you pay close attention, I mentioned that Qimir isn’t actually his real name. He has another name from when he was a Padawan, but I decided to steer clear of mentioning his real name because it felt weird to just come up with a random one for him. So, I chose not to say it at all and just referred to Qimir as "he" or "him" when he was a Padawan. I only use the name Qimir in the present context.

[vibratingskull]

I HAVE TO SHARE THIS BCS THRAWN

also hellurr hope you’re alright 👀

So I’m a bit of a history nerd and the Empire in the Ahsoka series is giving me strong Roman Empire vibes. Bear with me image Thrawn as the Emperor and you’re his Empress, you’re aware of him having some private time in the evening watching some girls making out and doing more sometimes. A bit like Jabba on Tatooine, however Thrawn is always loyal to you and would never engage in serious activities with the girls.

However he isn’t the only one who enjoys these activities, you enjoy them as well and tend to join him during these nights like some Emperors did in ancient Rome. He wouldn’t even necessarily tell the other girls to leave he’d simply have you in his “fun” room not caring about anything else as he’d have his way with you. Istg Thrawn is doing things to me. 🫠

Emperor Thrawn you say... 🤔 🤭

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Smut, p in v, creampie, bulge, dacryphilia, pet names (good girl, Empress,...), light breeding kink

You lazily yawn.

You’re so sleepy right now… Ulertepi’s hands are doing wonders on your body.

“Do I please you, Mistress?” She asks.

You moan, nodding. She’s the best at giving massages, you could fall asleep right now. The young Twi’leks caresses your body with oil and perfume, applying pressure and grazing your sweet spots on your back.

“You have the hands of a fairy…” You let out in a daze.

You sigh, today again Thrawn is away on campaigns, leaving you alone to rule the Empire. You had enough of your solitude and got down to the Bath House of the Palace to enjoy some company. On another chaise lounge a Togruta and a Twi’lek are embracing each other in an intimate dance of caress and touches, on the couch a human girl and a Mirialan are beyond the caress stage and are engaging in a passionate coitus, two or three other groups of slaves are around the Bath House, in pools or chairs, enjoying each other for the pleasure of their Empress. 

With the snap of a finger your glass is refilled with an expensive wine. You savor it, listening to the couple's moans like music.

“When do you think he will come back?” You lament.

“I don’t know, Mistress.” Ulertepi responds.

“He’s always away on campaigns, he’s never at the Palace for more than one week. It’s like I married a ghost.” you complain.

“I am sorry, Mistress.” 

“I am the saddest woman in the universe…”

“Your cross is the heaviest of them all.” She has the presence of mind to agree with you. 

She knows better than to upset and contradict you.

“My Empress?” a voice call to you.

“Mmmmmmmh?”

“Heads of the Council want to see you.” Rivihk informs you.

You snarl, can’t you be alone for five minutes?

“What do they want?” You grouch.

“They want to discuss with you about an heir and succession.”

Thrawn’s not good at politics. So it falls on you to rule the court and the State while he’s out conquering new worlds. He sometimes chimes in when something goes against his morals, but you’re pretty free to rule as it pleases you. You still had to circle yourself with a Council to manage everything, but they are also real pains in the ass.

“They will understand I cannot do much about it without my husband around.” You growl.

“They ask you to discuss it with him when he comes back.”

“What do they think I’m doing exactly? I know what the state needs, of course I’m asking him for an heir. But he hasn’t complied until now.“

“The Council may have a solution for this… problem.” He announces, by his tone you can say he isn’t on board with the solution in question.

You turn your head towards him, annoyed. Who they think they are to tell you what to do and order you around. Next to Rivihk stands a young male slave Pantoran of the exact same shade of blue as Thrawn but with your eyes and hair color. You look at them black, waiting to see if he will have the balls to expose their very clear plan.

“This is Acyyr Ju, they…” He gulps, weighing his words “They think he would be a good progenitor.”

The scream you hit them with will be recorded in the archives.

“Out! Out! I should have you all beheaded! Disappear from my sight!”

They both flee without further ado as you throw anything you can grab at them. If you had decent attire under that thin towel you would have pursued them with a blade for the insult. You scream at the top of your lungs. Rats! Vermin! You conducting orgies doesn’t mean you’re ready to cheat on your husband!

Across the room all the couples have stopped their caresses, to stun to do otherwise.

“Resume!” You order them, enraged “Ulertepi, I never told you to stop massaging me, girl!”

Bunch of idiots! If you knew you would have to compose with them you wouldn’t have asked Thrawn for the crown that much. The assumption of power was really a you thing, he did it for you. When Emperor Palpatine finally died he came back from nowhere, slayed the young New Republic in its infancy and brought the crown to you. Like he promised you long ago, well before his exile.

He’s a man true to his words.

Unless when it comes to spending time with you, he’s always on the move with his fleets.

That is one of the downsides of power.

You feel deliciously large warm hands on your body.

Those are delectable but they are not Ulertepi’s hands. You look over your shoulder ready to shout again only to meet a burning red gaze.

“Thrawn!” You exclaim full of joy.

“How is my Empress doing?” He asks with a light smile.

He’s in full emperor gears, uniform and fur cape in this steamy atmosphere. You wonder how he can even stand in the room without passing out. But he wears it so, so well… You can’t help but lick your lips.

One day you will have him fuck you in this gear.

“Annoyed, she is surrounded by idiots.”

“As I saw.” 

“You’ve been here a long time?” You ask, surprised.

“Enough to witness the scene, I was observing you from the other doorway.”

His hand travels to your tummy, caressing it tenderly.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“It is okay.” He nuzzles your noses, “But Rivihk was not at fault here. A messenger cannot be punished for the message it delivers.”

You can’t believe he just witnessed someone proposing you to cheat on him and he worries about the servant. 

“I missed you!” You coo, feeling yourself melt under his touch. “You’re always away for so long!”

He finally leans forwards to kiss you. You moan against his lips just like you know he loves.

“I see you have found a use for my personnel while I was away.” He parts with you gesturing to the orgy of slaves in the room.

“Yes… I am so alone when you’re away, I wanted some warmth.”

“Did you…” He lowers his tone darkly, hypnotizing eyes in yours “See one of them in my absence?”

You remain mute in surprise, but you relax seeing his amused smile. He’s playing with you.

“No.” You chuckle “Of course I didn’t.”

“You can, you know.” He puts his forehead to yours “As long as you invite me to watch.”

“I know you love to watch.” You peck his cheek.

He does love to watch people having sex, especially girls. He never joins any of them, remaining on his armchair with a glass of alcohol slouching like a lazy king.

But he’s more than a king.

He’s an Emperor.

Your Emperor.

“I think I would like that. Seeing you getting railed by others, that must be a sight to watch.”

You never considered joining the orgy either. You prefer to sit on his laps, sharing the glass and peppering him with kisses and little attentions.

“I will think about it. Maybe for your starday…” You promise with a sultry voice.

He starts purring as you kiss the corner of his lips. He captures your lips again, his hand traveling your back to the strap of your bikini that he unclips with practiced ease. 

“Thrawn! How dare!” You gasp with surprise and false modesty.

“Is it not you who complain about being married to a ghost?” He bites back.

Oops, he was already here?

“I’m sorry.” You pout.

“Do not be. I am here finally, let us make the most of it.” 

He lets his cape fall to the ground with a sweeping shoulders move before pushing you back on the chair with his hot body, pulling on your bikini top to get rid of it. He kisses you with a deep purring, your tongues meeting to dance and hug. You undulate your body under him, entangling your legs, digging your nails in the fabric of his uniform, growling. He chuckles in the kiss.

“So… About the heir.” He starts, “I figure it is time we get up to it?”

“You don’t have to listen to those jackasses if you’re not ready.” You reassure him.

“No, it has been some time since I thought about putting a baby in this womb. This is as good a time as any.” He leans in to sneak in your ear, “I cannot take the risk of you getting behind my back, now can I?”

“Thrawn!” You exclaim, indignant.

Why is everyone alluding to you being a cheater today?

But he just smiles, he’s just having his fun picking on you, getting you flustered. 

That man, you swear…

“I cannot have the council of my wife think I am impotent. What kind of an Emperor would I be?” He continues, lowering himself between your legs.

“Thrawn, they are just idiots. Don’t listen to them. I will have them punished first hour of the day tomorrow for what they insinuated about you, I-Ah!” You’re cut off by the flat of his tongue against your clothed cunt.

He hooked your pantie to the side and kisses your inner thighs with love.

“You are always protecting my honor, my love. My Cha’cah. I could not have dreamed of a better Empress.” He blows on your exposed pussy, sending shiver to your spine “Now, what do you say we give them a little spectacle? Show them how it is properly done?”

“Is it not their whole job to fuck for us?” You ask, trembling under his touch as he parts your pussylips with two fingers.

“Yes but I must show them how to fuck you good. I want a good show for my starday.” He grins carnivorously and dive between your legs.

He takes a big sloppy lap at your cunny, sucking and licking across your clit like a lollipop, prompting you to throw your head back in pure ecstasy. You yelp, helpless under his assault. Like everything about him, he is meticulous and precise, leaving no area of your pussy untouched, probing your entrance with the tip of his tongue, massaging your thighs with his large hands, keeping them wide apart to lick you better. You wave your body against his mouth. He always makes you see stars when he eats you out like that.

“Oh Maker, Thrawn…” You mewl.

He growls approvingly in responses, he loves hearing your pleasure out loud so you give him a performance. You hold his head between your legs, running your fingers in his hair as you feel your pussy and abdominals contract under the pleasurable assaults. He always loved to eat you out, that’s his selfish pleasure to have you come undone for him with only his tongue.

It makes him feel powerful.

Your pussy is leaking and he drinks it up like wine, making all the most obscenes noises to turn you on and it works.

A bit too well.

You feel yourself trembling, shaking and your sex convulsing until you suddenly squirt in his mouth. You let you fall down on the pillows with a “oof.”

“I love it so much when you squirt in my mouth like that.” He lets you know, licking his lips clean, your essence dripping off his chin.

He wastes no drops.

“I know.” You giggle, a bit tired by your orgasm “I just wished I had more control over it to give it to you each time.”

“Now, now, you would be spoiling me too much, cha’cah.”

He stands on his knees to get rid of his uniform, opening his jacket. You raise up to free his erection of its painful prison. He throws his shirt somewhere in the room before taking your hands off his cock.

“Will you let me taste it one day?” You ask a bit annoyed to get deprived of it each time.

“Of course, my love.” He purrs deeply, peppering kisses on your face. “But not today, we cannot waste any drops while trying for a little one.” 

You pout, unresponsive to his advances.

“You promise?” You want to see him come undone with your mouth alone too, it’s not fair he only gets to do it.

“I promise, cha’cah.” He smiles mischievously.

He’s on you immediately, pressing your hots and bothered bodies together. You feel his dick poking your side and you slide your hand to pump it a bit. He lets a satisfied gasp at your cooler hand on his very warm shaft.

“Open your legs for me.” He lowly growls.

You open them wide for your lovely husband. He aligns his well endowed cock with your entrance. He’s gonna stretch you out so much, he always does…

He enters you gently, talking you through it.

“There, take all of me.” He coos

You open your mouth round as he does stretch you out as predicted.

“You are so good for me, always taking what I offer.” He nibbles your ear.

Once he is buried to the hilt he remains unmoving, letting you time to adjust to his size. You feel each muscle working to welcome his huge dimension inside your poor little pussy.

“That is it, relax my cha’cah. You always manage to take me whole, it is gonna be okay.”

You just nod with a gasped sob.

He’s so massive…

You train your pussy with toys but none feels like him. Only he can make you feel like that.

You look up at the bulge in your tummy. It turns you on so much.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You moan.

He starts rocking his hips, very gently at first but soon installs a rapid, merciless pace of deep thrust reaching the most profound parts of your being. You feel his tip hitting your cervix with such ease and the only thing you can do is take it. He could break you in half without so much as thinking about it!

He uses your poor pussy like a fleshlight, a toy for his amusement, but damn if it isn’t pleasurable to you. You shout mute cries and choked gasp letting him abuse your body, his massive stature shielding you completely.

You always liked your men bigs, but Thrawn immediately hitted differently. You became obsessed with only one night. He’s just made like that…

“Good girl. My Empress. My cha’cah…” He punctuates each pet name with a devastating thrust, sending you overboard.

“Ah! Thrawn!” You whine for him, enticing him, turning him insane.

“I know, cha’cah, I know. Do not fight it. Come for me.”

You spasm and shake violently before coming in a spectacle of fireworks and white lights, your toes curling deliciously.

“Oh my, you came really hard this time.” He sounds so pleased with himself.

You weakly nod, taking back your breath.

“Roll on your tummy for me, my love.” He purrs in your ear.

You tiredly oblige with a satisfied sigh.

“Hips in the air.” He orders.

You frown. He wants another round? But you’re so sore already…

”Thrawn, I don’t think I can…”

“Of course you can. You are a big girl, I know you can take everything.”

You groan, your face buried in the pillows and you raise your butt as he asked. He kneads it before giving it a slap.

You gasp, indignant. He just chuckles.

He enters you again, it’s easier with your former release and he quickly picks up the pace. He holds your arms in your back with only one hand, holding your hip with the other. You moan at each rock of his hips, letting you do anything it pleases him to your tired body.

“I must make sure you are satisfied.” He explains, “What if a younger man catches your eyes during your little show and you left me for him? I must prove to you I am still worth it.”

What’s this nonsense? 

“Would you, my love? Leave me for a younger lover and leave your old man behind?”

“No!” You broke down crying, “No, I would never!”

Why does everyone assume things about you? What did you do to make them think that at all?

He fucks you through your tears, giving you so much pleasure you cry as much because you’re upset and because he gives you too much.

“I know you would never, my cha’cah. I know it.” He leans to lick one tear off your cheek, “You are mine alone.”

“Yes I am!” You almost shout, as much at him as to reassure yourself.

You are a lot of things, but not an unfaithful wife.

“You are the only one for me too. No other woman could compare to my Empress.” He purrs the title. “You deserve to be taken care off, to be loved and fucked properly. Only I can give you all of that.”

You shake by your sobs and the waves of pleasures.

“And I will give you a little one, like you always wanted.” He continues, barely breathless “Not because of those fools, but because you want a family. I cannot deny you any longer, my love. You will have the family you always desired.”

“Really?” You sob.

“Yes, my love. I will give you a little girl like we talked so much about, and I will give her so many siblings to play with.”

It’s a real mess on your face, so much tears and drool, your makeup ruined, as your spasming pussy. You exhale painfully, air knocked out of your lungs with the rutting his mighty hips, wondering how long you can still hold on without breaking even more.

“Thrawn, please come quick! I-I cant’...”

“Yes, cha’cah. Your desires are my commands.”

He violently pounds into you like a jackhammer bringing you over the edge, pushing you in the sea of pleasure, drowning you in sensations, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, the moans of the other couples and his groans, the scent of sex, so strong, making you dizzy and his mighty hips slamming yours making your leaking pussy clench on his hard cock, trying to keep him inside desperately. 

“Give it to me, good girl.” He simply orders in your ear like a secret.

You come hard again, feeling all your blood flowing down your puffy cunny spasmming painfully around him. You let out a cry, a shout of his name that resonates in the whole Bath House.

“Your tight pussy is strangling my cock.” He groans.

His hips action finally slows down to become erratic until he freezes down completely and cum inside you. Your pussy milk him for all his worth, til the very last drop and he remains inside you, kissing your back tenderly as he hunches over your form, folded in half.

You let out deep breaths, trying to calm down with a pounding heart. He purrs loudly behind you, inviting you to raise your bust and cuddle with him. You let him manipule your body with a weak yelp. He embraces your body and hugs you tight, peppering your face with kisses like a young lover entranced by his fiance. He holds your shoulders, caressing your side with his warm, large hand.

“Was that enough of a show?” You ask, exhausted.

“It was grandiose, my Empress.” He kisses your cheek fondly 

He doesn’t slip out of you, keeping himself deep inside you as you straddle his laps, panting. You feel him hard still, does nothing tire him? You caress your bulged tummy dreamily.

“Do you think we did it?” you ask, full of wonders.

“If we did not, we will just keep trying. I can play that game all day long.”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[bereft-of-frogs]

with Vernestra being in the new book and seeing some people comment on like 'waiting for the other shoe to drop with her arc' (sorry if you happen to be the person who wrote that on reddit and are reading this haha, I actually really agreed with your review, that line just popped out at me), and my own frustrations with wishing they'd just invented a new character to fill her role in The Acolyte, because speculation on how we make the (kinda big) leap from book characterization to show characterization is overshadowing her character in these last few books, I started wondering like why did they choose Vernestra to be the one book character to bring forward? They had to retcon the Mirialan lifespan for it, didn't they? I know they probably wanted at least one book character to get the book readers on board with the series, but there wasn't anything that jumped out at me to explain why that figure had to be Vernestra. Then I got it.

...I bet they just wanted to use the lightwhip.

I mean first of all it is a cool, unique weapon for the series, even though they only used it in that one shot, fair enough lol. But I bet they had the idea for that shot of Qimir's scar to connect to whatever turned him to the Sith and planned the arc from there, so they had the plot first (Qimir fights his former Jedi master, leaving him with the scar that can be strategically revealed when it is time for #traumatic backstory) and slotted Vernestra into it because the lightwhip makes for a unique enough scar pattern to serve as heavy foreshadowing when it's revealed in episode 6.

But damn, I wish they had just made it like Silandra's shield and had it passed down, I would have been chill with Vernestra being Qimir's master's master, that would have made sense to me. But that's definitely where the 'they needed a character from the books to get the book nerds to watch the show' lol and maybe they already have Burryaga's (the only other character I can think of with a sufficient lifespan) ending planned (#fear). But it still does kind of suck that the ending of the book series has to be viewed through this lens of 'ok well how does this explain what happened between book Vernestra and show Vernestra...'

[moodymisty]

The Sound Of Your Voice - Ch1

Author's Note: So I finally went for it. The multichapter fic begins! I haven't written one of these in... gosh 10 years? A LOTR fic. Anywho I hope you guys enjoy! I hope you'll join me on this at minimum 4-5 chapter adventure (yes there will be smut eventually I know why you follow me) so lets have some fun!

This is mostly a fun self-indulgent project, but I hope at least a few others enjoy it too.

Summary: Life in the skies of Coruscant is dreary; Who better to spice it up than a know-it-all you met on the Holonet.

Relationships: Tech/Fem!Reader

Story-wide Warnings: SFW, Friends to lovers, You are working as a personal assistant for a senator, Eventual smut, Mutual pining, Lots of texting in the first chapter, Scenebuilding so much scenebuilding, an OC for plot's sake, Dehumanization of the clones,

Word count: 4015

ao3 link

The sound of quiet chatter echos through the gigantic central room and the connecting halls, along with heels against tile and drinking glasses clinking against each other.

It’s the usual symphony of a gala; Small groups or pairs of people chatting about business while munching on small, freshly prepared foods and drinking expensive liquor. The main event for the evening, which was a play by a small but talented production group has since finished, with the last round of food being served before the evening finally concludes.

You’ve already done your fair share of circles around the event, chatting with co-workers and business partners, as well as potential ones.

And now that you were finished with your rounds, you find yourself stuck in a quiet corner holding a mostly untouched drink in your hands. It’s good, but there’s something about the amount of thoughts swirling in your head that keeps you from raising it to you lips, staring off in no particular direction.

Accepting to come here was a mistake. I knew I should’ve just stayed home and gotten some actual work done.

Though, this does technically count as work; You remember.

Both your datapads burn a hole in the purse you have slung over your shoulder with their weight, just as a reminder of the reason why you’re here. Social gatherings are a part of the job, even if they don’t present themselves overtly in the job description.

If you’d known that working for a senator would result in this, you might’ve not taken the job when it was presented.

It’s getting quite late; The stars are already shining high in the sky, and you can see the flashing lights of air taxis and speeders in the skylanes below one of the many sets of ballroom windows.

I hope she’s making use of this time to actually sweeten the pot with some other senators on her new bill, or else I’m putting a nice twi’leki massage on her tab tomorrow.

But as you stand here you’ve become so lost in your own thoughts you don’t notice when it seems your thoughts have summoned her, and Llenya appears with a glass in her hands.

It seems the Mirialan senator has a mind for when her assistant is at their wits end; Adjusting the wrist of her dress as she looks you up and down only once.

“Are you alright?”

Beyond her soft, dinner table smile she has the slightest bit of worry on her face, the deep purple lipstick she’s wearing contrasting with the color of her skin. The color matches her floor length dress, as well as the clips that hold her hair in its intricate styling. You look at her for a moment, shrugging before answering.

“I just feel a little woozy. I’m going to go get a bit of fresh air, and see if that helps. Can you live without me for a moment?”

Her smile gets slightly wider, just barely pushing her cheeks upwards towards her eyes.

“I think I can manage. But I would appreciate your help in dealing with one of the other senators, before he gets too drunk to negotiate with.” You’re not a fan of the fact that you know exactly which senator she’s referring to, and the idea of dealing with them doesn’t fill you with excitement.

But now that you’ve spoken to her you can steal a moment to yourself, gently pushing through the crowd and keeping your face tilted downwards; In the hopes that people wouldn’t recognize you and want to speak. After Llenya recently submitted her newest draft for her refugee supply distribution bill it seems everyone wants to speak on it, and be the first to have some sort of juicy information regarding the matter. And when they can’t speak to her, they have to deal with you.

The moment you hit the one of the sets of doors leading to the balcony the fresh, cool air hits your face, and you can’t help taking in a deep sigh. At least as deep as one you can take, with the corset of your dress wrapped tight around your waist.

This was a beautiful dress; A deep maroon red that almost brushed across the floor and flowed around your wrists, but it has become more than a little uncomfortable as the night as gone on.

Moving away from the doors you slowly walk along the outside of the ballroom, admiring the clouds shining bright from Coruscant’s lights as you wander while drifting your hand along the railing. It’s surprising you don’t spot anyone on the way, though the gala’s staff are more than likely being quite careful to avoid any stragglers meandering out of the venue.

But in your wandering you end up by the back entrance of the building, and stop only once you find something that manages to catch your interest. The night sky casts a soft light over your only peaceful moment in this entire night of annoyances so far.

The spot you’re standing in overlooks an absolutely beautiful rooftop garden; Plants from no less than five different planets all planted in dramatic patterns and trimmed to perfection. Not a single leaf or flower was out of place, nor had been allowed to fall onto the paths weaving through it. The topiary are all perfectly manicured, and in a way they seem almost artificial; As if no living plant could be shaped into such a perfectly strict form. You didn’t know this place had a garden of this scale, as it was completely unseen when you’d first arrived.

It’s such a wonderful sight, it would be nice to share it with someone.

Maybe he would like it?

Though he seemed to like everything, to a degree. Maybe it’s the side effect of having such a scientific mind.

Your personal datapad is quickly pulled from your bag, before you lean forward over the railing to take one quick picture of the expansive garden. Once you lean back you take a look, and your lips purse together just a tad.

It doesn’t look as pretty as a picture...

But it still looks nice. You send it, and feel the way your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as you wait for a response. You don’t have to wait long to get one.

- Are those Poya berteronias? In the top left?

It seems like he waits for your response for only a moment, before elaborating.

- Blue Poyas, is the name most people traditionally know them as.

- Yes, they are. I didn’t know you had such a keen eye for plants.

Though he seems to have a keen eye for everything, in all of the times you’ve spoken too him. There hasn’t been a thing yet he hasn’t been an expert on.

- information on plant biology and botany is not exactly rare. I’ve had some downtime to research such things relatively recently.

- You seemed to know your fair share as well, in our previous conversations.

- Aww, thanks Tech.

Tech. Part of you still thinks the name is a little odd, but you had always assumed it was a nickname that had attached to him like glue, and he just prefers it. Given his personality, it’s a more than accurate nomer. As well the skill it alludes to the reason why he apparently works for the GAR, as he’d once said.

Part of your considers taking the half flight of stairs down into the garden and walking around, but your feet are already complaining after spending the evening in such uncomfortable heels, so you ultimately decide against it. As much as you would enjoy getting a chance to take in more of the fresh air and maybe smell some of the flowers.

Tech hasn’t messaged for a moment, and you assume he’d gotten swept away by something or someone, until he messages again about five minutes later.

- I apologize for disappearing. I was looking for something in one of my datasticks.

He sends an attachment moments later, which you open to see an image of the flower he’d brought up earlier. Only it was wild, what most people would consider overgrown and so big it had almost begun to weep.

- Wow, where did you see this?

- We were on Devaron a few standard months ago. I remembered it being a rare plant and decided to document it.

He types ‘we’, though it gets so quickly corrected to ‘I’ that you almost miss it. He does that sometimes, so you figure he just has family or partners from work that he doesn’t want to speak on.

You don’t want to pry, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t curious.

You mean to ask why GAR would send someone like him to a planet so remote like Devaron, though a set of footsteps from behind you makes you turn your head away from your datapad for a moment. One finger shuts off the screen, while you take a better look at the person approaching you.

Someone about your age; Though you don’t recognize him. People come in and out of your work life so fast that it’s hard to remember faces, even if you’ve spoken to them before.

“The party not keeping you entertained?”

He gives a polite smile, stepping close enough to be within range of quiet conversation. Glancing down to see your datapad in your hands, you put it back into your bag moments later.

“Just needed a little bit of air, that’s all. It felt so hot in there, I just wanted some breathing room. Especially after the play finished.” He laughs and nods, looking downward at the garden before back up at you. He leans against the railing, an elbow supporting him while he grabs his wrists.

“It certainly wasn’t the best play I’ve seen, though I haven’t seen quite as many as most people.” You turn to look through one of the ballroom windows and instantly recognize a few faces, but it seems some have left.

Good, the party is finally dispersing. As if it isn’t already way too late.

“Oh, I’ve only seen a few also. I’m more of a concert person, personally.”

At the moment however, I’m mostly a ‘leave me alone’ person.

As much as you might like to, you hold your tongue and smile, for the sake of avoiding any sort of repercussions for an abit small annoyance.

“But I have to get back inside; I know there’s probably a few people all in there ready to pounce once I return.” Nodding to you, he still keeps his hopeful expression despite his attempts at anymore conversation resulting in failure.

“Well, I’ll see you back inside then. I think I’ll take another moment of air and admire the scenery.” You smile.

“Enjoy the view, it’s lovely.”

Quickly shuffling back inside you once again keep your head low enough, until you’re back on the acceptable outskirts of the party. It’s not as if you hate all parties and social events; It’s that so many of these forced encounters tend to grate on you after awhile. But even so, you still need to search for Llenya before she notices how long you’ve been gone. She might be a little bit more lenient with you than another senator might be, but missing a good portion of the party she’s using for gathering good will is a little far past her limit of leniency.

You find her speaking to a senator you vaguely recognize, but as you make your way over, he leaves before you have a chance to speak. Llenya feels your presence beside her and turns, eyebrows raising upwards.

“Feeling better?” The metal of her jewelry clinks together softly as she adjusts it on her wrist.

“Yeah. It was just so hot in here I was starting to get nauseous.” Her smile fades for just a moment. Great, she is more than likely not pleased that you weren’t here to keep people off of her back.

“Whatever happened to ‘just a moment’?” Someone brushes by quite close behind you, causing you to take a small step forward.

“Someone wandered by and starting trying to talk to me.” While I was speaking to the person I actually wanted to talk too… “I didn’t recognize him from anywhere though. And he didn’t seem interested in talking about you, surprisingly.” That perks her interest, though she doesn’t get much of a chance to question who they might’ve been, before she decides to divulge more important matters.

“I think it might be time for us to take our leave; Judging by the last conversation I had, it seems I’ve worn out my welcome among a, good portion of the guests.” She must’ve been pushing her bill on people hard, if they were souring on her like that. Granted, she knew it was a hard sell coming into this.

Many of these senators are notably not fans of actually pushing money towards relief effort for the war, especially if they aren’t going to get any sort of gain from it.

“I’ll call the driver.” You do exactly that, and once you grab both of your coats, it’s moments before you’re both in the air taxi. The driver knows the address, so he instantly begins driving to Llenya’s private home once you say to do so.

She spends most of the time talking about a few of the people she’d had conversation with, though you find it difficult to keep invested beyond giving noises of understand.

I hope Tech doesn’t think I just got bored of talking to him…

“I think I’m going to make a few small changes to it; If I do so, I think I might before to win over a few more senators before my time is up.” You can see her building through the divider of the air taxi, before turning to her and nodding.

“When you do, send it to me and I’ll do the rest right then.” Pulling up to the private entrance, Llenya gets out, but hangs on the door for a second and smiles at you.

“Remind me to thank you for working so late.” You wiggle your fingers and smile back.

“I’ll be sure to. Good night.” Once she closes the door, you tell the driver to bring you back to your own place now, so you can finally get some well needed rest.

It’s been a long night.

Once you arrive, you’re more than quick to slide off the seat and out, closing the door and not even turning as the taxi goes off back into the skylane.

Finally, home.

Once you get inside and close the door behind you, your first stop is your bedroom; To change out of this clothing before it makes your body ache anymore. These sorts of events always take a lot out of you; The excess of delicate dancing that is social interaction with senators and hours and hours of standing around in uncomfortable dress, but in the end nothing feels better than tearing it all away once it’s over.

Moving to your closet you grab a pair of sleep clothes off a middle shelf and slowly change, sighing as you take off the restrictive dress you’d been wearing all night and gently hanging it back up. After doing so, you stand in the full length mirror and slowly undo your hair, until it’s no longer pinned and clipped into place.

Once you finish, it takes a good roll of your shoulders to realize how long you had to hold such a tight posture. And deciding to relax, you sit down on the bed and it’s still neatly tucked sheets, curling your legs up and leaning against the headboard.

Your bag was close by, so you hook the strap with your foot and pull it close enough to grab, and pull your datapad out. Your work one was pulled partly out by accident, but you don’t bother to do anything about it.

Instead, you open up to continue the chat you’d started what felt like ages ago, though it had only been a few hours.

-I hope you’ll forgive me for disappearing.

Tech instantly responds again.

Does this man ever sleep? Anytime I message, he seems to always be right here.

-Forgotten.

- I was actually attending a party earlier, But I had to show my face again eventually.

- Was it so droll that there was no one to talk to?

Oh, there were plenty of people to talk to; Just none you wanted to. You talk to plenty of senators and other political figures enough during your time working, and so you have zero desire to try and pretend to be their friend. Especially when it’s so transparently transactional.

That’s however, not a very pleasant answer to his question, so you just scrap it for a more endearing one.

- No, you’re just a far more entertaining conversationalist.

- I’m glad you find my ability to nurture conversation with an endless array of topics entertaining.

- That was a joke.

It almost hurts the way you attempt to avoid smiling at your datapad, finding his sudden declaration so incredibly endearing.

You’ve never met anyone quite like Tech; Which you’re more than happy to have.

- I figured. Though it’s a bit hard to know without hearing someone’s tone of voice.

You’ve never actually heard Tech’s voice, in all this time. You have one for him in your head; One that reads his dialogue in your mind instead of it being a bunch of silent text scrolling across a screen. Though you’ve always wondered how accurate it is compared to the real thing.

- It’s funny to think how long we’ve been talking and I’ve never actually heard your voice.

- Is that merely an observation, or a suggestion?

Your other datapad for your business life lays right beside you; Which thankfully has yet to alert you to Llenya sending her new draft. She probably won’t get it done tonight, leaving you with the evening free.

- Either? Whatever you prefer.

Maybe it’s the mystery of it all, but you can’t recall a time someone’s ever had you so on your toes like this. You said you didn’t mind, but you would be lying if you weren’t incredibly curious to hear him, and see how accurate your guess has been thus far.

- Someone is sleeping in the seat beside me, let me tell him to leave first.

Even if no one can see you, you can’t help the way you visibly jolt as if instinct to get up and stop him.

- Don’t do that!

He doesn’t respond for about three minutes, so you assume he hadn’t listened to you.

After that short amount of time he signals his return to his datapad with a call; But you’re unable to stop yourself from letting it ring one or two times before answering. Normally someone would say hello, but given what he’d presumably just done you open with shaking your head and saying:

“You are a cold, cold man, for doing that to someone.”

“It would not be the first time someone has called me cold. Being of a methodical mindset seems to evoke such a comment.”

…

Oh kark, right; I need to speak.

“O-oh yeah? I hope you pushed him in the direction of an actual bed instead of another chair.”

His voice…

It’s distinctly not as you had it in your head, giving you a healthy bit of surprise of the pleasant kind.

“Proper beds are in quite short supply when on duty unfortunately. He prefers sleeping partly upright apposed to the traditional approach as well.” It is easy to forget he is on duty at times, with how often you speak.

“Well, I hope you aren’t busy.” After you speak you reach up to your hair and pull out a stray pin you must’ve missed, setting it on your bedside table.

“I am no more occupied than I normally am at this time. Though at the moment I have time to work on something I’ve been meaning to finish.”

His voice could put me to sleep in an instant. But… In a good way. Not boring.

“Have I been distracting you?” There’s a soft clang, the gentle sound of metal on metal. You’re not entirely surprised he’s working on something of the mechanical sort. “I am more than capable of having my attention split between multiple different activities.”

What a charming way to say I’m not bugging you.

“Well, then what are you working on?” There’s more clanking and shuffling, and the sound of him letting out a quiet noise of effort while reaching over to grab something. “It would take quite awhile to explain.” He obviously can’t see the slight pout your lips form when you don’t get an actual answer. You’re curious; Every time you’ve asked he’s always been making some sort of wacky or amazing thing, you never know what he’s going to be working on next.

“I don’t mind. I’m curious.” Much to your surprise he’s actually somewhat quiet for a moment, as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You can’t hear much movement either, unlike before.

“It’s a heat signature modification for a helmet display, By the time I am finished with it, it should be able to see heat from up to half a klick away.”

Wow, you think; Before you remember to vocalize it.

“Wow Tech, that sounds impressive.”

He gives a nonchalant sounding hum, before speaking up.

“Not particularly. It’s mostly a mundane upgrade I simply haven’t gotten around to doing.”

You can’t quite tell if he’s shrugging off your compliment, or if he genuinely didn’t pick up that you even gave him one. The ladder seems to be more common with him. After going silent for a moment, the sound of metal hitting each other cues you in enough that he’s probably working on another bit of his project. Eventually however, he finally speaks up.

“You, said you were attending an event?”

You perk up, nodding despite him not being able to see you.

“Yeah, it was for work.” You sigh. “Thankfully that fiasco is all over.”

While still shuffling around, Tech adjusts his datapad enough that it makes a small noise.

“Judging by the tone of your voice, I am going to assume it was not an event which you had wanted to attend?”

The understatement of the night.

You don’t exactly feel like indulging your work to him given it’s sensitive nature, so you round it about with a chuckle. As well as the fact that you'd rather just forget about it for the night, while you have the ability to.

“Yeah, putting it lightly.”

Tech doesn’t ask you about it again thankfully, and instead you both chatting back and forth for a good while, and listening to the sounds of him work in-between. It’s oddly soothing; There’s something about listening to him just explain what he’s working on and answer your silly questions that’s incredibly relaxing. You could do this for hours; But if you did, the morning would likely end up shining through your windows soon enough. And you know without a shadow of a doubt, you’re going to have an overwhelming load of work to do.

“Is much as I’d like to stick around, I should probably sleep.” He doesn’t stop working for a moment, hearing the sound of a spanner sparking against metal.

“Very well. Be sure to get adequate rest; And,” His voice halts for only the briefest moment. “I will speak to you tomorrow.” That makes you smile, before you turn off your datapad. Talk about good luck being able to end what would normally be a terrible night off on a good note, you think.

Sleep ends up coming easily, though it’s hard for your brain to not replay your conversation in your head a few times, before you eventually do nod off.

[100lxtters]

Testing the ‘old’ Hunter

!! THIS ONE SHOT IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

AO3 I Masterlist

Boba Fett x fem!reader 6.5k words Deciding to roleplay with Boba was a dangerous game, especially in terms about how his hunting skills where, teasing that they would have weakened with his older age. Hiding away in a cantina from him, awaiting for him to retrieve you and have his way with you Dom!Boba, sub!reader Warnings : dom/sub, smut, brat, predator/prey kind of, roleplay, mask/helmet kink, choking, degradation kink, handcuffs, naked female clothed male, face slapping, hair-pulling, finger fucking, orgasm denial, orgasm control, spanking, helmet stays on, penis in vagina sex, a bit toxic but its all consensual, praise kink, creampie, reader is on birth control, aftercare Mando'a translations: cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart mesh'la - beautiful ad'ika - little one

The music in the cantina was burning your ears as you swayed your hips, the tiny outfit you had on barley covering your ass and your tits daring to slip out the top. Everything stunk, your shoes were sticking to the floor with every movement, and there were too many creeps staring at you. 

But you tried to ignore it, letting the little amount of alcohol in your veins run through you as your eyes danced along the room. You had managed to pick an almost hidden spot in the busiest cantina on Tatooine.

Surely he won't find you easily.

Your legs dug into the arm of the throne, smirking down at Boba as you say ''no, I reckon your skills have roughened up over the years. I bet you wouldn't be able to track me down, even if you tried your best.''

His hand stopped stroking your thigh, now gripping tightly onto it, pulling you closer as his other hand cups your chin, ''careful there little one, you don't want to test me.''

''Whatever you want to think, old man.''

Smirking to yourself as you glanced over to the door, questioning where he will start, and how long he had already been searching. Wondering if he found the note yet, and if he did how quickly he jumped into your little game. 

All your note really stated was 'let's test those skills and come collect your bounty' as you left it laying on the arm of the throne.

You had left the Palace early this morning, finding old clothing in an abandoned room, most likely from Jabba's rule. Once you left you just started heading into random cantinas around Mos Espa until you realised that was too easy for Boba, so you ended up in Mos Eisley instead. Of course to keep the game fun and to give him the 'thrill of the hunt' you left clues behind in those cantinas. Not much just like a piece of jewellery, an old top you were going to bin anyway, and in one cantina you literally just wrote Boba on a glass in lipstick.

It was silly and dumb, but for you it made it more interesting, wanting to see what he would use to find you again.

You just prayed he didn't use a tracking fob as that would be too easy.

The door sliding open caught your attention, your head slowly turning towards it to see a mirialan woman walk in, you just sigh and put your attention back into dancing. Starting to figure it was maybe time to move to another cantina, if Boba was on his way then it would be more fun moving again.

Trying to plan what clue you could leave behind you hear the sliding door once again, heavy steps entering the cantina and a few people quieten down. Surely it must be him now.

So you peak your head around the corner and see you were correct, his head slowly turning around the room, you ducking behind the pillar before his sight set on you. ''Please, enjoy your night everyone. Don't mind me'' Boba announces, his voice almost sounding tired. Hearing his heavy steps make their way to the bar, closing in to the tender as he says, ''I'm looking for a girl.'' You angle yourself to be able to watch the situation now without him seeing you.

The balosar man behind the bar, scuffs and replies ''look around mate, there are plenty of women here.... for the right credits of course.''

''No, I'm looking for a specific girl'' Boba replies, the slight hint of annoyance in his voice from the mans suggestion, ''I'm looking for her'' he adds as he places down a holodevice with an image of you on it. Fuck.

Time to go, you think. Your eyes set on the backdoor, but you knew that it would mean Boba would see you in the process of escaping. So you do what you've been doing most the day, you sway your hips towards the door and act like you're just part of the crowd.

''Yeah I've seen her, she's just over there'' you hear the tender reply.

It was like you could feel Boba's eyes burning into your back, now it was time to really go.

Your feet pick up and you run for the door, hearing his heavy armoured body fastly heading towards you. Your whole body shoves against the door, forcing it open and sliding through the first gap you could. His footsteps stop once you're out the cantina, you smirk and turn around. The sight was almost horrifying, his helmet just glaring at you through the gap.

But you keep going, heading down any small alleyway you could find, rushing into another cantina just to run out their backdoor too.

There wasn't much to run to here, at the end of the day you do want him to find you, you wanted him to punish you for running and take whatever he wanted from you.

The whole time you are just smiling to yourself, cutting through crowds and sliding through whatever space you could. You were well ahead of him now, but just how far? He knew what to do and how to find you.

After you run into another alley you slow down, allowing yourself to take a deep breath in and calm. Maker, running on Tatooine wasn't a good idea, regardless of how much cooler the nights may be, the humid air didn't calm down at all. You'd think thanks to your very little clothing it would help yet they just stuck to you. Even if Boba wasn't far behind you the likeliness of him finding you had to be lower now, right?

Letting your feet still wander the hidden alleyways, taking a moment to feel smug for escaping that cantina just before Boba grabbed you. You wonder if he knew you were there all along, or how many hours had he been searching for you. Maybe you'll never know, it was part of the fun anyway.

Suddenly you startle at the sound of a lizard falling out of a bucket onto the sand, scurrying away. You quietly laugh to yourself as you walk backwards until your body knocks into something, or more like someone. ''There you are'' the modified voice says. 

You jump forwards before they grab your hand, spinning your body around and shoving your back into the closet wall. ''Ouch'' you say, pretending to pout as you stare into the visor of your lover.

''Do you know how long I've been looking for you? Had me searching half of Mos Espa before I realised you got bored of there, I would've found you hours ago if it wasn't for that trick.'' Oh, so your plans worked, he really was trying to find you using basic skills then.

So you just shrug and reply ''guess you're getting rusty in your old age then.''

There, you could feel it start to snap in him, the teasing was working just how you intended, how you wanted this 'game' to go. His hand launches onto the front of your throat, squeezing on both sizes as he pulled you closer, ''oh cyar'ika, keep testing me and see where that gets you.'' His voice so deep, so serious, you had never heard him speak to you like this, even in times of degrading you.

And yet it was just getting started, you could feel your pussy clenching around the air as you reply smiling with ''testing you? You really must be getting old if this all tired you out.''

This was possibly a bad idea, but you knew it would be worth it.

Without saying anything else his hand leaves your throat, you go to shoot him a confused look but before you can reply he grabs the top of your arm and shoves you forward, ''walk'' he orders. So you slowly move your feet towards the alleyway exit, hearing his spars behind you. You hope he's been enjoying hunting you down, making him work for it.

As the Mos Eisley streets appear a smirk crawls onto your face as you say ''it's awfully nice that you found me, but'' stopping in your tracks, turning to your left ''I've got to go.'' Then you're sprinting again.

You hear Boba curse under his breath, hearing his steps speeding up but you were faster than he was. Turning any random corner to stay out of sight, once again heading into a cantina to cut through. Wondering how far behind he was now, wondering how annoyed he must be and how he will take it out on you. It made your stomach flutter with excitement.

As you rush through the streets again you can feel the glares of the locals, wondering how often they must see these type of situations. Obviously yours being different since it was a consensual hunt.

After a little while you hide behind a corner in an empty mechanic workshop to catch your breath and to cool down. What was his plan? You basically told him to come find you, but what did he intend to do when he did? You prayed you both shared the same idea on it.

Thinking about how aggressive he would be, having his way with you as he wished. Taking what is his. Claiming his 'bounty'.

Your thoughts are cut as his spars once again ring in your ears, you poke your head out for a moment to watch him walk past the workshop. ''Come out brat, I know you're here'' Boba says, almost shouting. The locals must be so confused, wondering what the Daimyo was doing hunting again. The temptation to turn around and just say 'oh don't worry, it's just a sex thing' made you almost giggle imaging peoples reactions.

Moving back into the shop, eyes locked on the back door, trying to sneak over there to flee out the back. You hear him say your name, catching you off guard, causing you to knock a hammer off the table. Shit.

You don't even wait around to see if he heard it or not, and realistically he did as it landed onto metal, you just rush for the door. Shoving it open and using your whole body to shut the heavy door. You let out a sigh, but it was an early celebration.

''Get here, now'' you hear from the end of the street. Your head turns to him, you smirk and begin to head the other way until you're unable to. Your arms become attached to your hips, a wire wrapping around your whole body. There was nothing you could do except stand there like an idiot.

There was a pull on the wire, you assume it was due to him getting closer. His steps so heavy in the soft sand, getting closer and closer to you. Until he was right behind you, holding one shoulder to turn you around to him. ''H-hey'' you bat your eyelashes at him.

Boba's hand moved from your shoulder, hearing him fiddle with something as you felt your body become lose. His gloved hand holding your wrist before there was a click around it, a tight feeling too. Looking down to see him attach the binder to your other wrist too. Your head shot back up to his as you gave him a confused look, opening your mouth to say something before he gripped your cheeks and squished your face. ''Save it, you're coming with me. Wither you like it, or not.''

He grabs the top of your arm and starts to pull you along with him through the streets. You could feel your cheeks heat up as people stared at the pair of you, but you tried to swallow the embarrassment away, because at the end of the day you're about to have a fun evening. However you kept your head down to feel better, yet you were still smiling to yourself.

You were starting to wonder where he was taking you until Slave 1 comes into view, makes sense since both towns were opposite ends of his Palace. As the ramp starts to lower you use all your force to pull yourself out his grip, and luckily it works, mainly because he wasn't holding you all that tight. His helmet snaps to you as you back away from him, your face wearing a grin as you say ''so much for being a bounty hunter.''

A groan appears from behind his helmet, ''I mean it this time, back here now'' his shoulders tensing as he stands still. The glare from behind the helmet made you weak, you didn't even know how he was looking at you currently but you just knew he looked pissed, but most likely also smirking too.

There wasn't anywhere to really run to, just the endless Dune Sea, but again you weren't trying to run, you just wanted to play with him and get him riled up. It was only the two of you out here, keeping a distance from him as you say ''or what? What makes you think I'd come with you?'' Watching as his feet start to move towards you, so you back up with every step he takes, staying just out of reach. 

It happened almost out of nowhere, he sped up and almost launched at you, causing you to let out a yelp as he grabbed your upper arm again but a lot tighter this time. No trying to escape again. ''Kriffing brat'' he mutters under his breath as he drags you back to the ship.

''Get off me'' you struggle, trying to keep your lips from curling into a smile.

But it's useless, he walks up the ramp with his grip still tight, pressing a button to shut it before turning to you. Boba's visor glaring at you before you feel his leather gloved hand come in contact with your cheek, the slight burning sensation from the slap causing your mouth to hang open. He then grips both your cheeks with one hand and replies ''when I tell you to get back here then I expect you to do so.''

Your gaze just locks onto the visor, trying to come up with something witty to reply with. ''Oh, I'm so scared of you mister bounty hunter.''

Boba then spins your body around to face his small bunk on the ship, shoving your body into it, falling onto the hard mattress as you make eye contact with him for a moment before he says ''it would be in your best interest that you stay there, you don't want to find out what will happen if you disobey me, again.''

The door then shuts as you hear him climb the ladders up to the cockpit, you let yourself let out a deep breath and giggle to yourself. Maker you hope he is enjoying this as much as you are. 

The hum of the ship startles you as you feel it begin to take off, where was he taking you?

As he's out of sight you pull a pin out your bra you had hidden, holding it between your teeth to unlock one of your wrists. Leaning forward to press the button to open the door, you look out and see he is still up there. Exiting the bunk, shutting it behind you and sneaking across the ship into his big weapons cupboard. Looking through the tiny gap to see him when he returns.

After a couple of minutes you hear him climb back down the ladders, pressing the button to the bunk and sighing when he notices it's empty. ''Oh princess, you're making this harder for yourself. Can't follow one fucking instruction'' he groans. Watching as he presses a button on the side of his helmet, tilting his head downwards. You hear him chuckle and say ''we both know there's not many places to hide in here, so come out and I'll be kinder mesh'la.''

But you don't, you don't want him to be kind.

''Fine, have it your way.''

Boba's broad body turns around and charges straight for the cupboard, almost ripping the doors off as you come in contact with his helmet. He doesn't say anything as he grabs the dangling binder to pull you towards him, pulling you into the room as he shoves you towards the table in the middle of it.

He places you in front of him with your back turned to him, his strong hands digging into your hips as he forces your body over the table. Your ass instantly falling out the tiny outfit, feeling his crotch slightly rub against you, causing a quiet whimper to leave you. ''Is this what you wanted? For a big, bad bounty hunter to take advantage of you?''

Your free hand is pulled behind your back along with your cuffed one, him then closing the binders back around it again, holding your hands behind your back. Pressing your forehead into the table as the rest of your body fell against it, the only support keeping you up being your legs just about touching the floor still.

''For someone to treat you like the low life whore you are?'' His cold gloved hands running over your ass cheeks, playing with the hem of your underwear, ''to have your pussy absolutely ruined whilst someone takes their reward?''

You can't reply, if you speak it'll come out a whimpering mess, but he knew that. It was what he wanted. There was no way he couldn't see the soaking wet patch in your underwear. He knew what you wanted, knew that this was your plan all day.

His hands explored lower, closer to your aching pussy, sliding under your underwear. He was so close, right there, he just needed to move a little further in and give you what you so desperately wanted. His fingers softly crept along your folds, your body ever so slightly twitching from anticipation, then he very quickly ran a finger over your clit. A whimper sneaking out your throat before you could stop it.

Boba does it again, so you push yourself closer to his hand as much as you can, wanting more from him. He just tusks and says ''you don't get what you want now, after how you've been acting today little one.''

''But... please'' you whimper.

''Pathetic'' he chuckles, his hands moving away before they land on your hips, thrusting his clothed self against you causing a choked moan to hum in your mouth. One of his hands then snakes into your hair, grabbing a fist full of it making your neck snap as far back as it would, then his helmet lowers down next to your ear. ''Listen to me, slut. You do only as I say or do, and if that is so hard for you to follow I will make you regret it.''

You let out a dramatic sigh and reply ''and if I don't? Would you hand in a damaged bounty?'' teasing him as you smirked at the empty room in front of you.

''No, however you're my bounty so it doesn't matter. And seeing as you're mine I can choose my own reward'' as he finishes speaking you feel the hand from your hip go between your bodies, him messing with his pants before you feel his hard warm cock against your ass. Your body once again twitches from the touch, your thighs dying to press together to add pressure from your excitement.

Feeling his hand in your hair releasing you to grab the skirt, his grip tightening on it before he ripped it off your body in seconds. You let out a heavy breath from his sheer strength. Feeling him throw the fabric across the ship, then doing the same motion with your underwear, leaving your soaking pussy out in the ships cool air.

Boba's hands roam up your body, reaching the tiny top as he mutters ''you've been dressed like a little slut all day, where you hoping you could use your body to get out of this?''

Blushing as you almost whisper ''maybe, but I knew it would've worked.''

His gloves reaching under your bra, his freed cock running against your bare pussy, feeling it twitch as he cupped one breast softly saying ''oh did you now? Well it doesn't seem to be working right now, seeing as my plan for you'' his fingers pinching your nipple as you whimper, ''is to have you do whatever I please and wish to. You have no say in this matter, do you understand?''

''Yes'' you reply quietly, almost feeling shameful for your response as your brain starts to get taken over by horny thoughts.

Once again he tightly grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back so his cold helmet sits above your ear. ''Yes, what?'' Feeling his chin run along your ear as he spoke, almost spitting the words as he said them.

''Yes, sir'' you spit back. A groan leaves him as you suddenly feel him shove two gloved fingers into your pussy, a choked moan leaving you as he stretched you open. His fingers pushing deep into you before he starts thrusting them in and out, the leather harsh against you.

Leaning back up but still holding your hair as he says ''quit with the fucking attitude, or this will be harder for you.'' His fingers speeding up, you try to hold back your moans as much as possible but you struggled. ''Stop being pathetic, just let yourself enjoy what I do to you.''

And oh was it tempting, wanting to give into him like usual, being his perfect little sub you are most the time. But this was too fun, acting out against him and not following his exact order always caused a rush through you. ''M-maybe do better then'' you reply, breathing heavily as you swallow your moans.

You feel a third finger force it's way into your tight hole, tears threatening the corner of your eyes, feeling them curl inside you hitting the perfect sweet spot. Unfortunately that was enough to make you let out a loud moan. Boba chuckles behind you, ''what was that princess?'' His grip on your hair loosening as you feel yourself clench around his digits. ''Aw, are you getting close?'' his tone almost a mockery tone.

But you don't give him the satisfaction of replying, instead shutting your eyes and trying to hold in any moans and just letting out quick heavy breaths. He was right, you could feel the pit in your stomach growing, you had been waiting all day for this. You wanted a release, was enjoying this so much already.

The pool in your stomach starting to get ready, ''do you wanna cum? Tell me.'' You just nod and hum, still refusing to give him what he wants, but instead it just leads to his hand tightening in your hair again. ''Speak.''

''Please'' you blurt out, a moan sneaking out too. But as expected, he stopped. Letting go of your hair and pulling his fingers out. Cutting your orgasm off too soon. The side of your face resting on table, it cool against your warm face. ''Fuck you'' you mumble.

In response you were greeted with a hard slap across your ass cheek that caused you to yelp, before he did the same on the other cheek. Your legs squirmed and pressed together, maker that hurt. It's always worse when he slapped your ass with the gloves on, there was more power behind them. His fingers dig into your ass cheek as he groans ''oh I plan to.''

Without another second he shoves his cock through your folds, into your wet desperate hole. Filling your pussy completely with his thick length. Going as deep as he can, the base of his cock resting against your ass before he pulls back as he snapped his hips into yours hard and quickly.

You couldn't hold back anymore, you allowed the moans to fall out your mouth but only quietly, not letting him get the full satisfaction. Your denied orgasm building back up, shit you were already so close. He must have known as he teased ''you getting close again already?'' All you can do is nod, ''good, I want you to thank me after you cum, and you best remember what I said before. Also, I'm going to count down from five and then you can cum, you cum before that and I'll make you regret it.''

Oh, this game. It was fun, but maker was it almost scary, not wanting to cum before he allowed you to as in the past he had stopped mid orgasm which is just not fun. 

''Five'' you ball your fingers in, tightening your grip around nothing just to ground yourself. ''Four'' his hips started to slap harder, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. ''Three'' you let out a deep moan as his balls slap your clit, a sharp sensation running through you. You weren't going to hold out longer. ''Two'' shit, you prayed he would hurry as the pit was about to drop.

Preparing for the last number, the go ahead that you could cum. You were struggling against the binders, your face melting more into the table, your pussy clenching, ready to cover his cock in your cum.

His voice lowers, becoming so husky as he says ''one.''

Your body becomes undone beneath him, moaning loudly and messily. Body jolting as you suffocate his cock within your pussy. Eyes rolling back and seeing stars as you cum hard around him. His pace doesn't slow down, your cum making your already wet hole more wet for him. ''T-thank you.. sir, thank yo-you'' you moan out.

''What a dirty little slut, making a mess all over my cock'' he tusks down at you. His thrusts slowing down a little, grabbing your binders to use as a grip, forcing your body up a bit as he shoves his cock deep at this new angle. ''Such a beauty split open on my cock.'' Sweat falling down your back, your eyes fluttering open as mixes of heavy breaths and moans leave your mouth. Hearing his armour clank as he fucked you harder as he just held you up. 

Then you heard a quiet hiss, your wrists becoming free, feeling the binders slide down your back and make a soft bang sound as the landed on the floor. Boba then slowly pull out of you, you already felt so empty. He then grabbed your hips and turned you to face him, his hands instantly working on getting your top off, letting your breasts become free.

''I really lucked out with you, such a beautiful bounty'' he groaned as his fingers twisted one of your nipples. Your whole body almost blushing as your back arched a bit. ''Maybe I should keep you, no need to hand you over to anyone, is that what you want?'' Him closing in on you, your ass leaning against the table, ''claim you as mine? Make everyone know you're my slut?''

''Please, sir'' you whimper. His hands move onto the top of your thighs, helping lift you onto the table, pushing your legs open as he stood between them. Lining his cock up to your already sensitive pussy, slowly pushing it in as your hands fall onto his shoulders for grip, wrapping your legs around the top of his thighs.

Your grip around his legs making him go in deeper, you managed to get your own way without him realising he was doing so. He almost hugged your body as he went as deep as he could, he mumbles a curse under his helmet. His hips starting to rock against you, your fingers dig into the beskar but obviously it didn't do much for you to help hold yourself together. 

So you move one hand off his shoulder and starting to sneak it up to his helmet, wanting to feel his lips against yours. You start to lift the helmet before he grips your wrist harshly. Using his other hand he pushes you onto your back, you let out a heavy breath, shocked from the quick motion.

His other gloved hand smacks against your cheek before he holds your face second after, ''you never try to remove a hunters helmet, understand? Or are you too much of a dumb slut to know that?'' growling down at you. Boba's hips not longer rocking into you, just holding you as he glared through his visor.

''But I just wanted a kiss'' you pout.

His helmet gets closer as he quietly says ''I don't care.'' Then returning to slamming his cock further into you. His hand leaving your face and moving to your breast, tightening a grip around it.

''B-but that's not fair'' you whimper out as your back arched. The pit in your stomach filling again, your breathing increasing as you stare at him through your eyelashes.

However they fly open when his hand grips your throat, the other one still holding your tit. ''I don't fucking care what you think is fair or not, I'm in charge here. You're mine, and I will use you however I wish to'' Boba spits, his tone so serious now. The pool ready to drop, your pussy tightening around him again. ''Just cum, slut.''

And you do, not wasting a second. You cum harder then you did before, it almost hurting as you squeeze around his thick self. ''Fuck'' you mumble, it almost slurring. You were already starting to feel tired, not sure how much more you had in you. His hands return to your hips, he had just been holding you on his cock as you came, but once he could see you calmed a bit his grips on your hips tightened as he just used your hole.

''You're like my own personal fucktoy, aren't you? Just letting me do whatever I want to your perfect body'' in some way it was almost like he was worshiping you as he degraded you, it just sent flutters to your cunt. The way he was managing to make you feel so special whilst he ruined your body.

His fingers dug into your hips, you can guarantee there will be marks there tomorrow, small bruises most likely. Your eyes looking down at where you were both connected, such a beautiful sight.

Boba must have caught your eyeline as his lowers whilst he says ''look at how perfect you fit around me, like you were made for me. Maker, I'm keeping you all for myself.'' You could feel his thrusts slowing down, but his stride were longer, pushing his cock as deep as he could into your pussy. It felt like he was in your stomach, pushing so far in. 

Pussy clenching around him due to the pressure it was pushing inside, ''si-sir'' is all you can mumble out. Watching his helmet move back up to view your face, waiting for you to carry on whilst his dick was so far in you that it almost hurt. ''I... can- can't'' you say with half shut eyes.

One of his hands moved off your hips and he held your cheek, ''what's wrong ad'ika?'' his voice full of faux sympathy. Your face just slightly tightens as he pulls out and then forcibly shoves his cock back in deep, a choked breath managing to fall out your mouth. ''Is it too deep for your little pussy to handle?'' You could feel him smirking behind the helmet, maybe it was time to give him some attitude again.

''W-what is that you go-going deep? Weak'' you mumble.

Oh maker, that was a decision. Boba's hand travels down to your neck, holding your throat hard, his shoulders tensing. ''Just when I thought you were being a good girl for me, you pull that?'' Feeling his length pull back, before quickly driving into your cunt. His thrusts now fast and deep, any moans you were trying to keep down were instantly blocked by his grip on your throat. 

Your body felt like it was on fire, he had never fucked you like this before, you couldn't tell if this was part of the 'game' or this is him showing how rough he can really be but just hasn't showed you yet. The way he was treating your body was like magic, you had never felt so good during sex before like this. Using everything he knew you enjoyed but cranked up to 11.

He removed the hand off your hip and slowly trailed down to your clit, his thumb running over it causing your hips to rise without control. His fingers pressed harder on your throat as he said ''ah, none of that. Keep them down.'' So you try to force your hips back down but it was hard to do so as he ran his thumb over your clit again and again.

Shit, you were already getting close again. The pit starting to fill up again.

''Kriff you wanna cum again?'' He says almost mockingly. You can only nod, looking at him through half lidded eyes. ''Say it then slut.''

His hand loosened off your throat and landed back on your hip. Taking a deep breath in, swallowing before you say ''please... let me cum again.''

However you are met with a slap across your face. Your eyes fly open as he once again grabs your face. ''I've already had to tell you once, 'let me cum again', what?''

''Please let me cum again, sir'' you say, glaring at him as you do so. You didn't even mean to not use the title, you just forgot as you were more focused on wanting to cum.

''Fine, but this is the last time you're cumming tonight'' Boba groaned. He lifted your legs up a bit to wrap around his waist, pulling your bodies even closer. One hand resting on your waist as his fingers dug in again whilst his other thumb went back to running over your clit. Then he started the fast motions of his hips rocking back into yours.

You felt your pussy then tightens around him, ''g-gonna... really close'' you whimper.

His fingers push harder into your flesh, more bruises to deal with most likely. He starts doing little circles around your clit, your legs start to tighten around him, ''wait'' he orders. Your eyes start to fill with tears, you were right there. He just needed to say the words. You couldn't hold back much longer.

''Please sir'' you almost cry. It was almost getting too much.

He thrusts deep into you, then pulling back out before say ''cum'' as he fucks you hard. A loud moan escapes you as your eyes rolls back, pussy choking his cock as you cum hard around him. The tears run down your face, landing on the table beneath you. ''Such a good girl for me'' Boba praises as stops rubbing your clit, his hand joining your waist like the other.

Him holding your body tightly under him, fucking you hard and fast through your orgasm. Your legs begin to shake and tighten around him. ''Come on, just hold out a bit longer for me, princess. Let me fill this pretty pussy full of my cum, let me claim you.''

You let out a shaky breath, ''please'' is all you can mutter. You wanted him to cum in you so badly, but fuck you were tired and cummed out. You feel your body may give up if he carries on for much longer.

Boba just speeds up, you can feel his cock start to throb inside you, it somehow feeling thicker. He was trying to chase his own high, clearly close himself.

''Fill me with yo-your cum mister... bounty hunter'' you moan.

It was like something switched within him. His fingers dug even deeper into you, somehow, whilst his thrusts started to become messy. ''Fuck'' he moaned out before you felt your walls become covered in his warm cum. The thrusts slowed down, however his grip was still tight. You could feel him twitching inside you, getting every drop of cum out of him into you. 

Then you felt it, the excess cum already dripping out your pussy. How much did he cum? Feeling it run past your ass and either landing on the table or floor, you weren't even sure where your body was. Your legs slowly started to drop from Boba's waist, dangling off the table. You heard him let out a deep breath before he pulled out, his cock covered in both of your releases.

His hands let go of your hips, then your back arches again as two of his fingers enter your abused pussy, ''can't let any of this cum go to waste'' he groans as he shoves it deep inside you. You let out a broken moan, you were too tired for this now, you needed to rest.

Boba's visor connected with your eyes again, ''awe did I break my bounty?'' You decided to give in, you were satisfied with your little game, so you just nod. ''Good'' his smirk auditable through the helmet. Pulling his fingers out before he moved back from your body, ''stay there'' he ordered before you watched him disappear into the fresher. You did attempt to sit up but fuck your body was tired, so you just lay there as the sweat ran off your back onto the table.

When Boba returns he is holding the same small cloth he tends to use when you fuck on his ship. He stood between your legs as he gently cleaned your cunt. Your body did flinch due material being a little rough on your sensitive parts, but you just tried to stay still for him. He was always so caring when it came to this side, no matter how deep he was clearly into character, he still wanted to make you feel safe after.

Once all the cum was cleared he placed the cloth down on the table, then he gently helped you sit up. Your head swayed a little, but you were okay, just sore and tired. However the hissing sound of his helmet coming off woke you up. 

You meet his beautiful brown eyes and smile, ''hi.''

He cups your cheek as he chuckles back at you ''hi? I've been here the whole time.'' 

''I know, but I missed your face'' you reply as you rest your hands on his chest. ''Can't see what you're thinking behind that bucket.'' You lean your face closer, ''or do this'' before placing a soft kiss on his lips. He holds your face to his, just kissing each other softly and lovingly.

He pulls back enough to say ''did you enjoy all that though? I wasn't too rough or mean with you?''

You smile as you shake your head, ''no I really enjoyed it Boba.''

Another kiss is planted on your lips as he cradles your head, ''I'm glad. Now let's get you covered so we can get you into a proper bath at the Palace.''

[rainbowsprinkledpirate]

To The Sound of Beskar

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Older!Male!Reader

Summary: When dropping off your latest bounty, you have the vague feeling that you will see the Mythrol, Mirialan, and Zygerrian again someday. Until you end up with more pressing matters to worry about. Like how Greef Karga immediately sends you after a new bounty when you step foot in the bounty hunter guild's cantina.

AN: If you can't tell, I suck at writing fight scenes, and The Mandalorian series contains a lot. So, here's to a long ride and lots of research on my end on how to write it! 😃👍

Chapter II: Strengthen Those Beside You

It was easy to get lost in thought when traveling through space.

The swirl of color drew you into a sense of peace unlike anything else you've ever experienced, allowing you to let go for a moment. You got lost in thought more often than you'd like to admit when flying.

Currently, you were thinking about the training Din had gone through.

Was he able to learn everything you had?

When Concordia was attacked, you were both still very young. From what you recall, you were still going through training even then. And you were able to be on your own a few weeks after the tribe had settled on Nevarro.

The younger kids, like Din and Paz, had their training pushed back. Yet you doubt the older Mandalorians let them skip for long.

Din had to have finished his training, or the other Mandalorians wouldn't let him keep sneaking away to join you on dangerous bounty-hunting missions without speaking with you about it.

Right?

"...ey. Hey, are you alright?" A hand shaking your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. Din doesn't let go even when you crane your neck to look up at him.

You examine him, feeling a stupid smile crawl across your lips before noticing the beep from the navigator in front of you two. Damn, you had to start doing something to avoid wasting fuel by zoning out between jumps.

Pressing the right buttons to exit hyperspeed, you manually take over to fly back to Nevarro.

"Yeah, I was just lost in thought." You mutter before tightening your grip on the Crest's steering wheel. Din's fingers squeeze your shoulder before he lets go.

"You should just let me fly. I don't think you've been getting enough sleep lately."

He was one to talk.

Wait.

Was it just you, or did Din sound oddly grown up suddenly?

Ting.

Din chuckles after the bolt bounces off the top of your helmet. You turn to glare silently after him as he exits the cockpit.

He lazily tosses over his shoulder before completely disappearing from sight, "I think I'm a better flyer anyways."

No, he hasn't grown up at all. That womp rat.

Sighing heavily, you fly the Crest to an open space close to the city. You maneuver it between a freighter and a quadjumper. Checking that there was enough space for Greef's guys to get the quarries out.

Stepping out of the cockpit after powering down the Crest, you head down the ladder leading into the belly of the ship.

Din waits for you by the open ramp. From your place by the ladder, you watch how his lazy demeanor shifts back to that of the cold Mandalorian. Shoulders squared and back straight.

You can't stop the ache stinging your heart as you stride past him.

If you could choose for him to have a different life, you would. One where he was still on Aq Vetina learning whatever from his parents. One where he didn't have to put up a shield between himself and everyone else.

"Hey! Watch it, Mando." The words are spat at you like poison when you accidentally bump into a rough-looking Trandoshan. You say nothing and stare him down from behind your helmet until he sidesteps you with a sneer and continues on his way.

This was the life Din was born into. One where he had to learn from the world around him. One where he was safe behind the mask because it protected him from those who wished him harm.

This wasn't a life you would willingly choose for anyone. But it gave some a second chance.

You make your way through the bustle of the city, and the crowd parts around you. Din follows behind silently as you head to the bounty hunter's guild.

When your shadow darkens the guild's entrance, Greef Karga rises from his table further in the cantina.

"Mando! Glad to see you back. Good job on those last bounties." Karga tilts his glass at you with a smile. "Come, come! I believe I have something that will help secure your spot in the guild." He beckons you over.

You ignore the glares and whispers rising from the other bounty hunters as you and Din move to sit in front of Karga. Said man completely ignores them and focuses solely on you.

He jovially states with a flourish of a bounty puck, "This bounty is one of the most important ones I have gotten as of late. But I trust you can handle it, Mando."

He slides the puck your way, humming, "You're headed to Gamorr. This particular bounty is a slaver wanted in many parsecs. Goes by the name Bhoa Myoduza. She should be easy to find, considering she's likely the only Rodian on Gamorr."

You snag the puck before standing up.

Staring down at Karga, you question him with vauge curiosity, "Any idea which part of the planet she's on?"

"That planet is ravaged by war. Surely there is one quiet place that would stand out." Din speaks up after Karga shakes his head at your question. For a moment, his looks as if he's about to shake his head again when his face lights up.

"Now that you mention it, I believe there is one place you could check first. Ah, but it requires one of the locals to take you there."

Din sighs beside you before standing to follow you.

That wasn't going to be easy.

The Gamorreans were too focused on fighting each other to worry about helping a Mandalorian looking for a bounty. But it wasn't like you needed their help. You would figure it out yourself. With Din, things would be easier. Strengthen those beside you. That's what Din was good at. And you were glad he was born into this life with you.

Next Chapter -> tbd

Here <- Previous Chapter

Star Wars Masterlist

[trex-nonsense]

i think it's time to drop the lore...

so. this is really just a lot of stuff about Kan that isn't necessarily super relevant to the story (though some of it is mentioned/hinted at) that I wanna write about anyway, partly for my own interest and reference and because I love knowing the lore (can you tell I've re-entered my lord of the rings phase) and if there's even one person remotely interested too then it's worth it! I actually love Kan so much and I've been doing a lot of behind the scenes character development for her, mainly in the past because when she meets Echo she is mostly a healed individual. mostly. this lowkey reads like a wikipedia article lmao. anyway. I can't promise that all this follows canon, so just be aware of that I guess. this sort of has spoilers but also there's no reason why you couldn't just know this stuff before reading (in the story the information is revealed as Echo learns about it, but it's not necessary that the reader finds out that way too)

link to masterlist here :)

Kandam'aira Hynzir

—childhood & before the war

As a child Kan was always interested in working with technology. Kan was an only child and she lived with her parents in a small village on the planet of their people, Mirial. Kan's parents were young when they had her, and were very loving, though they didn't spoil her. Instead they instilled in her the value of selflessness and taught her to always help people where possible. Her mother was an archaeologist of sorts, and spent much of her time researching and writing papers on rooting the truth to the myths of sites that were believed to be affected by some divine intervention. Her father owned a small repair shop on their home planet of Mirial, that tended to anything from ship repairs to cybernetics.

With Mirial being located on a hyperspace route, Kan's father's repair shop garnered attention from the wider galaxy, and Kan got to meet a lot of different sorts of people, fuelling her desire to explore the galaxy herself. Kan undertook many small technological projects throughout her childhood, but her biggest undertaking happened after her mother lost her leg below the knee after a tunnel collapsed in on her during an archaeological dig. Kan and her father constructed a cybernetic for her when she was just thirteen, and that's when Kan knew that she wanted to pursue engineering.

When Kan turned 17, she left home to do exactly that. She lived on the a ship that she and her father had been building for a number of years and travelled around doing repairs and any other technological gigs she could find. She enjoyed her time doing this, but she really desired to do more, and help people in a more meaningful way.

—the 41st elite corps

Shortly after the clone war broke out, Kan got into a bit of trouble when she was caught in the Separatist occupation of Ryloth. She was running away from a battalion of droids, and was cornered when Master Luminara Unduli singlehandedly defeated the droids to save her. Kan thanked her and offered her services to her as repayment for saving her life. The Mirialan Jedi felt a kinship with Kan due to their shared origins, and what started out as one job turned into a partnership that stretched the length of the war. Kan began working as an engineer, but was also trained as a field medic when her presence was questioned by a number of the members of the jedi council. She became close with a lieutenant in the 41st named Spider, who took her under his wing and looked after her a bit as she was still quite young and had very little experience of war.

Over the course of the war, Kan gradually earned her face tattoos, tallying up important moments. She got the central diamond first, and the more lives she saved and technological developments she made for the republic, the more she got, stretching outward across her cheeks. During a particularly gruelling campaign on Felucia, which had many casualties, Kan was captured by the Separatists. She was held prisoner and her captors were insisting that she was Master Unduli's padawan. They questioned, and eventually tortured her for information about Unduli's battle strategy, but she resisted. She was rescued and sent to recuperate from the burn injuries she sustained, which is where she briefly met Fives. He was suffering from his own injuries, and also grieving his brother.

Kan continued to work with Master Unduli up until the end of the war. She was on Kashyyyk with her when order 66 was given, and when she tried to interfere, confused at the clones' sudden shift in behaviour, the clones turned on her too. She narrowly escaped death at the hands of her good friend Spider, and went into hiding.

—after order 66

Kan returned to travelling around and doing repairs, though it was hard to stay off of the Empire's radar. Eventually, someone replied to a distress signal that she had put out immediately after the events of order 66, and offered her safety from the Empire. She then worked as a mechanic in a workshop on Alderaan, under the protection of Senator Bail Organa. For a while, Kan struggled to come to terms with how the war ended, and came to dislike her tattoos because they served as an obvious reminder that her efforts and the efforts of the clones around her were all for nought.

While visiting the planet, Organa urged Senator Riyo Chuchi to speak with Kan, and that's where she first learned of the clone rebellion. She was immediately eager to help them, after working with clones so closely before, and partly with the hopes of reuniting with some of her friends from the war.

[marierg]

Of Light and Darkness: The Rising Darkness pt. 5

Rated: Mature (yeah check the warnings folks)

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi X Reader

WARNINGS!: DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING IF YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL PLACE! Death/ Dying, survivors guilt, depression, Suicidal thoughts/ ideations, PTS flare up, angst, talk of medical procedures and autonomy (previous denial alluded too), stress reactions, cursing, and Cannon typical violence. Uh yeah not light reading...

But also hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, marriage proposals... so not all bad!

A/N: I take no credit for the movie dialogue that is all the work of the wonderful Mr. Lucas!!!! THIS IS A LOVING WORK OF FANFICTION!!! With that said I did take more than a few liberties but I tried to pull from the film/ books and meld it into a cohesive piece. Much love to all the prequels and the folks there in!

With all said I will take this opportunity to say that it will be a minute till the next part! I have to figure out how I want this to follow the series and frankly this part just wiped me out. Hope y'all enjoy!

Picture Credit: Deviant Art and pinterest;

Words: 9000ish... yeah it was worse before i edited. ENJOY!

“Droid get over here with that...”

“I need more bandages!”

“No you will not kriffing take my patient until I'm done with them! I don't care what your CO said, your CO can bite me!”

It was the chorus of an all to familiar ture that you awoke to, smelling blood and bacta and battlefield. Laying in a triage area surrounded by troopers and Jedi alike, cots or the red dirt floor shaking with the ever nearing hits of artillery. Every inch of your body aching as you swung your legs down, the ground began to spin. Yes, you knew this waltz well, but dear Force how you wished the dance would stop.

“Ma'am can we take this bed?”

Glancing up at the medic in his polished armor you observed the trooper on the litter. He bled from the socket where his eye should have been, long painful gashes in the wake of shrapnel. Making a give over motion you assisted the transfer, urging the injured man to lay back as the medic administered a sedative. Defaulting to work mode you began to assess the man. “The wound needs cleaning and fresh bandages then send him straight through to the surgeon.”

“We can't ma'am, surgery was hit. This is it till we can get the ships off the ground again.” The medic tilted his helmet at you in silent resignation.

“Dear merciful Force.” Pain, so much pain and death. “Whose in charge of this mess?”

The trooper points to the loudest of the beings working among the wounded. Braids covered in dust and mud, face weary but focused as she barked orders over the din. “You will return them to this triage and those troopers will receive care! I don't give a flying KARK you fucking droid, they've earned every opportunity we can give them!”

In all of her time as a rescue specialist, even after all the missions Tyra had never seen anything like this. It reminded her of the stories her grandfather told of the war on her home world. The small Jedi who assigned her the task had motioned with his staff and simply replied...

“For the Valkar search the field of battle, and the brave shall they return.”

Her squad had been at it for hours even after the small Jedi had returned with Kaboomie, Speedster and you. Tyra would have liked to see all three of you onto the nearest ship, but with the limited space available choices had been made. She saw to your care personally with some assistance from a Mirialan named Barris. Tyra would give the girl this, she was a good healer. Heck the kid had done her best with every critical case till she'd passed out from the effort and had to be laid down too.

Looking at the next set of incoming wounded Tyra prayed to every one of her Gods for strength. Not that they often listened to her cries.

“Glitch!” Making your way over you waived to the young woman. She was no longer that student you had taught, years in the field giving her a commanding edge. Then again she had always been more an adult than youngling, “Tyra!”

“Boss!”

The women embraced, relief marking both their faces. You were the first to pull back giving her a tired smile, “Report?”

“Same shit, different day. Thank the All Father I won't sing your tale tonight. Scared the hell out of us,” She tried to get you to sit but you waived the effort off. Figures that if the Boss is awake she's back to work. “We barely have transport up and going and even that's sketchy, never seen Deek so steamed. No tower, barely reliable comms, control of the ground is non existent. Top that off no surgery.”

“So I was told. Do we still have supplies?” At Glitch's nod you glanced around. There were two grounded troop transport ships that were heavily damaged near by. While those birds would never fly again they could still serve, “Do those still have power?”

“Yeah, why?”

You'd made do with far less before and these men needed a surgeon. “Get that equipment into the ships, we have work to do.”

Obi Wan had seen Anakin and the Senator to the transport off planet and then rejoined Master Koon at the forward operations. Masters Yoda and Windu were somewhere on the battlefield, but after the droids had barraged the operations center, communications broke down. Light turned to dusk before order was restored. Always in the back of his mind you were there, the image of your unconscious form on the bed as he had left. Were you awake now, had you been sent to a ship already?

“Sir, we've received multiple transmissions of men trapped in the catacombs below the foundry. What are your orders?”

Obi Wan looked to the Clone commander, CC-2224 as he had Identified himself, grim expression falling across his features. Those men would require special extrication, especially if there was structural damage. It would cost time and men that their dwindling forces may not be able to afford. On the other hand it would cost his soul not to at least try. These men had risked life and limb to save him and the other Jedi, honor dictated that he must endeavor to return their brothers to them. Glancing at the Commander's helmet Obi Wan gave a nod, “Gather a team and what equipment you can Commander, I will accompany you.”

“Sir, yes Sir.”

The man beneath the helmet closed his eyes in relief. His trainers had prepared Cody for many scenarios. Retrieval and rescue, negotiations, incursion drops, but never how to bury so many his brothers. Never how to deal with the guilt of sending them to their assured death. What they had taught them was to trust in their chain of command, so that is what Cody would do.

“Vessia raise that retractor... Yeah there! Ok, suction,” After a while the bodies began to blur together. Collapsed lungs, skull fractures, missing limbs... you didn't feel like a doctor, you felt like a butcher. “Alright there's the bleed. Clamp off, sew, then seal him up until we can get a transport.”

Most of what you were performing was considered stabilization procedures until the troopers could be seen on the hospital ship in orbit. As the only fully trained Doctor you had to hop from table to table when there was a question of need. It was a motley crew, former students some of whom you hadn't seen in years. Vessia who was in her intern year after Medical School was beside you, hands once uncertain now efficient and skilled. The Senators daughter had changed much, finding her purpose in healing. Maru, who was currently running the blood donation chair, had left the RRC active branch preferring to work on the admin side of things. Yet here he was alongside you all. You could feel his old terrors coming to the surface again, but he remained stalwartly working. The strongest of bonds were ever forged in the fire of combat, at least that's what Master Melri had often said.

Then there was the Padawan who had been left in your charge. Barris Offee didn't have the same training you'd had at that age, but she was a hard little worker and adapted quickly. She stood at the table to your back while Vessia handled procedures at the other. The normally peaceful Mirialan was now face to face with a healers worst nightmare and you felt horribly for her. Having to remind Barris again and again that she must refrain from any more Force healing and to focus on clinical work set a knot in your gut. It was a simple equation though, she could use her abilities to heal a few while injuring herself or help the many that would surely follow the first. The girl's frustration was ever palpable, but in the end had deferred to your command.

“Master L/n, I require your assistance.” Barris had never felt so helpless in her life. It was as if all the light of the Force had gone out, leaving only the cold of death that now surrounded this place. This man on her table was barely breathing, but surely... “What about him.”

Glancing down at the trooper you could see he was beyond even your ability to save. Multiple blaster shots including the one that had penetrated his helmet, it was a ghastly sight. And yet he struggled still for breath, his brothers looking at the two Jedi with hope in their eyes. You wished there was something you could do for this young trooper to save his life, but all you could offer was a peaceful passing. “I'm sorry Barris...”

“NO! You gotta try damn it! He's still alive!”

One of the mud stained commandos screamed, ripping off his helmet as others tried to console him. The crying man cursed, yelling how they couldn't let his brother die. Not his last batch mate. Storming right up, he barked in your face demanding you save his brother. It was in that moment that you saw Barris cry, silent sorrow rolling down her cheeks. Damn this day, Damn Dooku, but above all damn yourself for failing them all.

“I cannot save him. I would if it were possible, but I cant. I am so sorry.”

“Can't or won't!?” He screamed again, but in truth there was a part of Fi that knew. “Why... Why Why WHY!!!”

“I'm sorry... more than you know.” Turning to the young Padawan you pulled her close, whispering. “Barris. I must ask a difficult task of you.”

The girl wiped her eyes quickly, “Yes?”

Looking from her to the bed and then the other downed craft across the narrow dirt you sighed. As with so many things today it was the only comfort you could offer these poor men. “Take the stretcher and place this trooper in the curtained part of the recovery. Let them say good bye.”

Barris stood stock still, as though doused in ice. “What are you saying?”

“He won't last much longer Healer Offee. All we can do is ease one brother's pain and grant the other dignity in their death.” You could see the light slowly dwindling out of her eyes and hated yourself even more. Giving her a nod you turned to the newest patient on your table and started to glove up again. “Give them however long they need.”

Barris wanted nothing more than to run from this place, but that was not the Jedi way. They were keepers of the peace, guardians of the light even when they could not feel it's presence. Wiping away her tears she took hold of the litter and began to guide it. The Commando's brother took the other side, face scrunched in anger. Bringing a chair and a blanket, Barris covered the injured man as the other sat watch. “What's his name?”

“RC-...”

Barris shook her head, “No, I mean what do you call him?”

Fi hadn't expected the Jedi to ask that, it was a very personal and private thing. Most clones' names were known only to their batch mates or their training sergeant maybe. Looking into the young woman's dark eyes though he felt comforted that someone else would do such a kindness as to call them by their chosen name. To treat him and the others as men. “We called him Sen.”

“Hello Sen, I thought you might be cool. My name is Barris,” smoothing the blanket over the man she could already feel his breathing becoming staggered. Biting her lip she began to murmur, “Thank you Sen for saving us, for saving me.”

Fi watched the young woman as she tucked his brother in like a cadet, gently and with great care. She seemed as lost as any of them, hell nobody should be in this place. Taking his brother's hand, Fi gave it a squeeze, “It's what we were made for ma'am.”

“Barris.” She replied quietly.

Swallowing hard, he looked into her sad eyes. “Fi.”

Sunlight rose on the second day, not that Obi Wan could tell really. Deep in the dark of the catacombs he and the troopers searched. Hall by hall, digging into the places where transmissions had dissipated to faint cries and banging. They had come across some of the lost Jedi from the missing assault team as well as tracking down the missing clones. He recalled how you would feel agitated on many a mission needing the balm of action. It was the waiting that tortured him and the other men the worst now. Waiting for an attack, waiting to find even one being alive, waiting for this all to end.

“Sir! Up ahead,” Cody called as he desperately ripped into the rock. The slight glow from a HUD light breaking the darkness of the rockfall. “Hold on trooper, we're here!”

“Commander be careful,” Obi Wan spoke too late watching as more unstable rock started to avalanche onto the man. Racing over with the others everyone started to frantically dig both men out.

“Damn Stupid osik'ri... get himself killed!” Alpha 22, or Deuce, wanted to wring the commanders neck. But as they uncovered the officer, he thought better of it. Lifting the Commander's helmet, Deuce found Cody was struggling to breathe. The rock fall damaged the air intake, the bucket all but dead weight now. “Oiya! Take it easy Vod'ika... There ya go.”

“The...(cough) commando...”

Deuces nodded and continued digging as the medics took the injured Commander to the side. The Jedi, Kenobi, joined in. Digging until they uncovered the still lit helmet, slowly extracting the rest of the man. Shaking his head sadly Deuces thought the worst, until the Jedi gave a rough rub on a pressure point and the Commando drew a gasping breath. “Medic! Medic Up! Hey you keep karking breathing, don't you fucking die!”

“Easy he may have a head injury,” Obi Wan helped to ease the injured commando onto the stretcher. “Commander go with them to the aid...”

“But Sir, we need to...”

“CC-2224 you deaf or being insubordinate? Get your shebs to the evac, MOVE!” Deuces barked, “and get a new bucket while you're at it.”

Cody sheepishly tucked the damaged one under his arm, pausing as Kenobi tapped his shoulder, “Sir?”

“If you should see Master L/n at the aid station, please let her know where we are.” Obi Wan said it before he could decide against it. He wasn't even sure if you were still on the ground, but if you were he knew how worried you must be. “Thank you Commander.”

“Yes Sir.” Cody's curiosity was peaked, but gave a nod not wanting to inquire further. The Jedi had a funny look as he had spoken, but who was Cody to question it. He was a soldier, what did he understand past that?

“All father help us... hey get those new suture packs and IV fluids over here!” Tyra watched as the latest batch of wounded were off loaded. She hated that there was so little to be done, only start fluids and get them to the hospital ship for a dunk in a tank. Shaking her head Tyra lamented also seeing the young Jedi healer in a different form of pain as she tried to comfort the injured. Worst of all she hated seeing you half propped on a stool as you continued to do surgery along with her and Vessia, soldiering on because you refused to leave them in this mess alone when you should be up on that ship like the rest of the wounded.

This was madness at it's finest and Tyra could all too easily now empathize with her former mentor who had been so harsh in their lessons. Muttering to herself she readied to stitch up another incoming trooper, “Forgive me Bern, you were right... Hey Trooper what's your name?”

“Ma'am, CC-2224.” Cody saw the displeased look on the short female's face and offered over his name. “Is there a Jedi called L/n here, I have a message for them.”

“Yeah,” You hollered over the din, carefully pealing off the many layers of extra thick armor from the patient on your table. Turning to the medics you became brusk, “You need to strip them before they get here, I want trauma naked and injuries exposed! Pass it along.”

“I have a message,” Cody tried to stand but the pink haired medic who was cleaning the wound on his head shoved him back down.

“Tell her from here. Hold still or this will scar worse than it's already gonna,” Glitch smirked at her patient, giving him a wink. “Don't worry handsome, the ones who matter won't mind a bit.”

“Don't tease the poor man Glitch. What's the message?”

Cody had to peer at the Jedi from the corner of his vision, “Master Kenobi wanted you to know he was in the catacombs with our platoon. He wanted you to know...”

Your heart swelled and a brief smile crossed your face. You hadn't know for hours where Obi Wan had gotten too, if he was alright. It was a relief, one weight lifted from your shoulders. Closing your eyes in silent thanks you nodded to the man on Glitch's table. “Thank you Commander, I appreciate the update.”

Cody was a little perplexed at your reaction, until he heard the medic stitching his temple chuckle. Raising an eyebrow, the young woman she smiled at him.

“You just made her day, you know that.” Tyra smirked, lowering her voice so only the man could hear. “Boss won't always say much, but it's a great kindness you've done. And for that...”

The small woman bent down as she finished the last stitch, pressing her lips gently on his forehead. Cody froze as she kissed him, it was sweet and stars knew he hadn't imagined his first kiss to be like this.

“...you deserve a reward. Now you best go get another bucket cause this one is toast.” Glitch grinned at the blushing soldier on her gurney. As he began to walk towards supply she yelled to him, “Hey 2224?”

Cody turned back at the edge of the craft, “Ma'am?”

Tyra sauntered over to grip the top of his chest plate. The man was weary, looking perhaps a bit lost amongst the din. With a chuckle she pulled him down and gave him a real kiss. Nothing fancy, just a touch of sweetness on a bitter day. “You be safe out there soldier. And don't go messing up that sewing, huh.”

“Yes ma'am.” He smirked at the little thing as she swayed her hips back to the surgery. He wasn't sure if it was the kiss or the rush of being alive, but in that moment Cody felt he could take on the whole damn planet. Strutting towards supply the Commander felt ten feet tall.

“Glitch stop teasing the men and get back to work,” You couldn't help a slight smirk. Unprofessional as it was, you were pleased by the smile the man had as he left. In the present moment though the patient on your table had severe crush injuries and would need to be evacuated with the next load of wounded. Starting two intravenous lines you took in his injuries, both legs would need surgery and extensive rehabilitation. He was alive though and that was a miracle in and of itself. “Hey, what's your name?”

“A'den,” He tried to keep his eyes open.

You smiled down at him, “Well A'den we're going to get you well again. For now though I'm going to give you something for the pain, is that alright with you?”

He had never been asked before, never given the option. It confused him that this medic wasn't simply doing what was necessary, instead giving him the choice. “Ma'am?”

“It's ok if you don't want too,” You could tell he was uncomfortable in more ways than one, so you tried a different approach. “How about a little something to take the edge off, it won't make you disoriented like a sedative.”

“Whatever you think's best ma'am.”

“Good, lean back. Now I'm gonna have you moved to the staging area and soon you'll be on the ship.” You could see the moment the medication started to work, the man's body relaxing ever so slightly. He was so covered in dust that you had to wipe it away to get a better look. Even careful as you were he was skittish, like a newborn colt. Finally satisfied with your exam and that he would remain stable, you had A'den transferred to staging. Over and over it was like that through the night.

At dawn you saw the Council and other remaining Jedi start to trickle back into the staging area. They, like the troopers, asking if you had seen someone. An apprentice, a master, a batch mate; it made no difference Jedi or clone, all were searching. The lists were posted by the recovery craft; Alive, wounded, missing and dead. You could tell the answer by the sounds or lack there of after people looked. But every so often you would hear something that eased the pain just a little, you heard the happy cries of a reunion. It was few and far between but it was something to hold to.

You were on one of the two final transports out, lifting off as the last troop transport did. It was like a bad case of deja vu, Deek in the cockpit with you, Barris, and Glitch in the back. You felt old, especially looking at the two younger responders.

“Hey kid, how you holding up?”

Barris looked to the girl called Glitch, dazed and uncertain. “I'm sorry?”

“She want's to know if you're doing alright,” You pipped in from across the cabin, “Are you?”

“A Jedi...”

“Barris,” reaching across to take her hand the girl paused. How long ago had it been that you sat on that side of the jump seat? Had you ever been that wide eyed or young? It seemed now that you had always been this tired and old. But you knew that once, long ago you had been just as this young one here needing guidance. “It's ok to say it. I wish I had the power to save everyone, but I can't... we never can. You gave it your best and that's all anyone can ask or do. It's alright to mourn the losses, not just celebrate the victories.”

Glitch pursed her lips before speaking, “You showed them kindness and compassion whether you could save them or not. Ain't a finer thing you can do than that. It's ok to be human little space wizard, hell makes you one of us.”

“Master L/n?” Barris' voice cracked as the last of her reserve evaporated. She was like a water pitcher that had run dry, nothing left to give and hollow feeling. “How... how do you let it go? The men we lost, the Jedi?”

“In some ways I don't. I remember what the experience taught me and train harder, so that their sacrifice meant something. I wish I could say that this is the last time, that you won't lose someone again, but I can't.” Shadows darkened your face as the ship made it's approach to the docking bay. Giving Barris a kind look, you graveled out the last words. “It's in learning to walk with those ghosts that defines how we move forward.”

Mace waited as the last of the ships arrived from the surface, sentinel till all returned. The battle had been arduous, the aftermath unbearable. So many good Jedi lost, the galaxy in turmoil, and all because of Dooku. He shouldn't have let his bias paint his view of the man because he had once been a colleague. Now the Separatists had a powerful ally and the future of the Republic rested on the shoulders of the Order. Mace knew, felt the shifting in the lines of fate that this was only the beginning of the journey. That the path ahead would be just as painful, bloody, and long.

“Master Windu, have you seen Barris?” Luminara came to stand beside the Council head.

Turning slightly he nodded greetings to his fellow Jedi, “I believe she is with Y/n.”

“Safe hands then.” Luminara sighed in relief, what she wouldn't give to reverse time and ordered her apprentice to stay on Couriscant. What was done was done though, now all of them would have to deal with this terrifying new world. “I suppose we are the lucky ones.”

Watching as the craft door opened he considered the statement. Were they the lucky ones or were the ones who had passed and spared what was to come more fortunate? Mace observed as you escorted the young Padawan. He didn't miss as Master Undulii's breath caught at the sight of her apprentice, wan and weary. At least this Master still had her apprentice, not many today could claim that. “Luck has nothing to do with it. We trained them well.”

Barris walked slowly towards her Master, you and Glitch on either side. You knew all too well that hollow look in her dark eyes. The girl was past done and needed a long rest, more so she needed to stay somewhere the hell away from any action. It had been a baptism of fire and in many ways it reminded you of what had happened to Maru. But unlike the Bothan there was nowhere for this Padawan to hide from the conflict, no transfer to admin. Master Undulii, normally so serene in appearance, now stood with slumped shoulders and only the veneer of calm. Glancing at the more senior Master you knew she understood that this mission had broken the girl.

“Barris,” She paused feeling a ripple in the girls signature, tear streaks marring her face. Embracing her Luminara held tight, like when she had been a frightened youngling. “There now, you are safe.”

“Get some rest, you did very well today. Couldn't have run that aid station without you Barris.” You handed an injector to Master Undulii, a sedative. She took it with a grim nod of thanks. Glitch gave an affectionate pat on your Master's shoulder and left to clean up at the slop sink. Master Windu looked as tired as you felt. “Master...”

Mace pulled you into a hug, “I'm so thankful that you've returned safely.”

The dam within you began to crack, the air rushing from your lungs with a great sigh. Regret, sorrow, guilt all swirling and engulfing you whole. You were unable to draw breath for what felt an eternity, tremors in you hands that indicated a larger storm brewing. Master Windu pulled back giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, ever patient and guiding. Over and over all you could say was, “I'm sorry.”

“This was not your fault Y/n. You and Obi Wan did well. Your Apprentice did his duty and all of you are alive.” He was proud of you all. The three of you had conquered near insurmountable odds to simply survive this slaughterhouse. Mace could only hope that same fortune would continue to carry you through this conflict to come. Yet under the surface he sensed damage, the fissures within your psyche emanating pain. “I do think you could do with some rest though.”

“Pffft.... Right.” Taking a few steadying breaths you stuffed your feelings away for later as you had often done. It did not serve to have a breakdown in front of the head of the council, even if they had been your Master. Wiping away any stray moisture you felt as the fatigue hit, scrubbing your hands across your face. “Kark I could use some Kaf.”

“I believe that the mess hall can assist you,” Mace chuckled and shaking his head, “And there is someone on C deck who would be glad to know you're back.”

Even exhausted you knew better than to let your guard down, “Is Anakin out of recovery already? He should still be...”

Half bemused Mace muttered, “I'm certain that the boy would appreciate seeing you as well.”

Master Windu gave yet another piercing look, you continued to act unaffected. Best not to contemplate the possibilities on days like this. “Has Anakin really been giving you that big a headache?”

“We both know I'm not referring to Skywalker.” While Mace had to admire your extreme level of discretion, he had long known of your relationship with Kenobi. Part of him had made peace with your involvement given the dedication both Jedi continued to show the order; never succumbing to the temptation of possession. You two had been thick as thieves since apprenticeship, even for as many times as he had attempted to separate you with missions and training. After so long Mace had simply come to trust that you would do the right thing. He did however tire over feigning ignorance. “Please make sure that he's actually resting, as should you.”

Schooling your face and giving a practiced calm expression, you bowed. “May the Force be with you Master.”

Dooku had been troubled throughout the flight to Coruscant. He was nearly bested by the Jedi and their unexpected rescue by the clones, but then again he had managed to escape and accomplish his mission. He had not counted on the new army as a factor in his plans this early, it would have been an easier war to manage if the Council had been obliterated. None the less many key pieces had still fallen nicely into place and it would take the Order time to recover their losses

As he saw the glimmer of the city planet his mind fell back to your words. “Qui Gon died defending the galaxy from the evil that you embraced! Had he lived he would stand against you now!”

He was not an evil man. Dooku did as he saw necessary to bring order, but he was not cruel. Yes it was necessary to cull the opposing forces to make a victory swift, but it was not a choice he made lightly. The Jedi's compassion is what limited their vision, far too entrenched in their ways to effect real change. Sometimes one must break the chins that bound one to the old and outdated system, the one which found the Jedi central too. Landing in the abandoned works the Count stood and prepared to disembark.

Sidious watched as his latest apprentice disembarked the ramp of his craft. While not entirely pleased with the fallen Jedi's efforts, he proved a useful tool. With practiced ease Sidious gestured warmly to the elder man, “Welcome home Lord Tyranus.”

“The Force is with us Master,” The Count bowed in greeting joining Sidious as they walked into the complex. “I bear good news, the war has begun.”

“Well done, your skills are no match for the Jedi.” Palpatine chuckled in this throat, “And what of the young upstarts, have they been adequately dealt with?”

“They survived the encounter,” Dooku grimaced as your words rang in his head again, “Next time I shall...”

Palpatine waived off the Count's words, “Spare me. Soon enough they will be eliminated and together we shall control the galaxy. For the people, for the future.”

And what future shall that be, forged in the crucible of war, the Count wondered? Dooku knew well to keep his doubts shielded though, the Sith was a cunning being and not to be trusted. But it was better to reign in Hell than to serve in heaven. “For a brighter tomorrow shall our labors travail.”

Anakin woke in a darkened room, warm and quiet. It took more than a few moments for the fog to clear his brain. Raising his right arm he felt the cold shock of metal and not his fingers. Fingers that flexed and moved but...

“Ani? Are you awake?”

Turning towards the soft voice Anakin couldn't speak for a moment, simply staring. There were no words yet to express both his joy and sorrow. Joy at seeing Padme waiting beside him, her sweet face curved by a genuine smile because he lived. And yet how uncomfortable she must be cramped in this small sparse space. Anakin never wanted to see her deprived of comfort, not for him.

“Are you in pain? I can get the nurse,” Padme watched as Anakin shook his head, still very distracted by the new metal limb. She took his left hand in her own, “It's just temporary till you get a better fitting, they said you were very lucky. Y/n and Obi Wan came to check on you, they were both so worried.”

“Not worried enough to stay.”

“That's not fair Anakin.” Padme gave him a hurt look, “They were both worried sick. The doctor even said Y/n was badgering him from the aid station every hour for an update. Obi Wan stayed here until Master Yoda made him go rest.”

Anakin flushed in embarrassment at rightly being chastised. “I should know my Masters better by now, it was stupid of me to doubt them.”

“You've been through so much,” taking a cool cloth, Padme dabbed it across his brow. Putting the cloth aside she laced her fingers with his again. “How do you feel.”

“Like I had my arm cut off.” Anakin snarked. Then he saw how her face fell and felt all the dumber for it. He felt foolish for a great many things. Shaking his head on a silent curse, Anakin's temper flared, “I couldn't stop Dooku...”

“No one could, it's not your fault.”

“I'm sorry Padme, I should have protected you better.” The image of her laying limp in the sand flashing through his mind again. Regret lacing his voice, Anakin reached up to cup Padme's bruised cheek. Even past his faults as a Jedi, would she want him now that he was this defeated broken thing. A fool of a man who couldn't even protect his woman properly. Would she still love him with all his faults? “I would have liked to have held you with both hands...”

Padme's voice cracked as she took the cool metal prosthetic and pressed it to her other cheek, “You still can.”

“You don't have to stay,” He whispered, not meeting her eyes. People made rash statements all the time under stress, he knew that. Anakin was trying to give Padme a gracious way out of this, trying to do the right thing even if it killed him. Because in the end he loved her and what could he offer her beyond that? “I'm sure that you probably have more important things...”

“How dare you say that,” Padme's face scrunched, hurt to her bones that he had even said it. Her Ani ought to know her better, “I'm not leaving you Anakin and there is nothing more important to me right now than you. So never say that to me again.”

“Forgive me?” A small smile curled one side of his mouth. His heart surged and Anakin began to gently pull Padme into the bed. He needed to feel her safe in his arms, needed to show her the affection that she so deserved. His brave angel deserved every star in the galaxy.

“The bed's too small.” Padme grumbled but acquiesced, exhaustion causing her to ignore better judgment. Laying in Anakins arms, being held so gently, she felt safer than she had in weeks. She wanted to stay a little upset with him, but it was so very hard when she could feel his care in every touch. Still her voice carried a hint of exasperation, “Honestly Anakin sometimes I wonder what you think of me.”

“That you're the most beautiful woman in the Galaxy. That you've stolen my heart,” He didn't dare press further just yet, stars but he wanted to as he gazed longingly at her lips. Anakin wanted to hold Padme close for the rest of time, to kiss her till there was no question how much he loved her. He would worship the ground that she walked on no matter where that ground was. As he floated the blankets up to cover them, Anakin caressed Padme's face. Tracing from her eyebrow, the apple of her cheek. “There now, don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Me? You're the one who,” Padme paused mid sentence face falling as she began to cry. She had almost gotten the two of them killed rushing in, it had been reckless. The litany of admonishments at her actions rolling through her mind, she was a Senator and should know better! Agony and frustration shook her whole body, but Anakin only held tighter.

“Shh, it's ok. You're safe angel.” Anakin could feel her turmoil, wishing he could make her forget the past few days and their terrors. And yet if not for the past few days he would not be holding her now. No he could not erase it, but he would ease it. Gazing at her he put the full weight of his heart into the words, “I love you Padme, so much.”

“Anakin,” She hiccuped between sobs, words getting caught. She wanted to tell him she loved him too, that she regretted her earlier lie. Gazing into his eyes Padme saw the light of his understanding. He knew without her saying a word. Still her tears would not cease; for him, for his mother, for the dead, for the galaxy. “I'm sorry... I'm so frightened Ani.”

“Don't be afraid.” Restraint finally breaking, Anakin kissed her. First her lips then every single tear from her face, laying one last soft press to Padme's forehead. If his angel needed him to be strong for the both of them, then that is what he would do. Raising his hand instinctively to brush at her cheek he paused a hairs breath away remembering the metal. Instead he lowered it to move up and down her back carefully, still too afraid that he would do harm.

Tucking Padme's head below his chin Anakin began humming a tune, one that he heard often at Maffa's bar. Carefully soothing his new hand on her back as his flesh one cradled her head, a few of the lyrics falling loose. As her breathing settled and she relaxed in his hold Anakin murmured, “I'll always protect you, love you... Will you marry me?”

Padme had been drifting to sleep in the safe harbor of his embrace, lulled into a sense of safety. And maybe she would have overthought the question had she not been so exhausted, but not now. Emotions too raw, everything happening so fast, and she wanted what he offered so easily. He hadn't changed since the day she had met him ten years ago, still a kind and giving heart. “Yes, I'll marry you Anakin.”

“Then sleep angel,” Anakin practically beamed with joy, “You've made me so happy Padme.”

He swore she would not cry again, whatever he had to do she would always smile. He would be better, faster, the best Jedi in the Order. And after he brought peace to the galaxy and the war was over he would leave to be with her. It was a simple plan, but it was a start. He promised himself and her that they'd make it to their tomorrow, because love wasn't something to fear.

At least that's what he'd been told.

“Another?”

“Keep it coming,” You muttered, passing the cup back to Glitch to pour you another beer. Bumming a puff on Deek's cigar you slowly let the smoke waft out around you. Numbing your mind was not a solution to the problem, but you didn't want to deal with it at present either.

Deek threw an arm around your shoulders, “That shit'll give you cancer kid.”

“and yet you survive old man.”

He gave your head a hard noogie. “Smartass!”

You had gone to check in on Anakin and found Padme watching over him. Truth be told the affectionate look on the young woman's face was more than enough to put you at ease. There was a happiness when the two were together, one that you prayed never left. And so you had slogged down to the C deck in search of your own happiness.

Obi Wan had been fast asleep, looking the rougher for wear. You had indulged, just a moment, sitting on the bed and stroking his hair. The soft auburn strands feathering against your skin was soothing and a smile had risen as your Obi had turned gently into the touch. Stars knew he had earned a rest and that you should get some yourself. Instead you had pressed a soft kiss to his head and tucked an extra blanket around him before heading to the mess hall, avoiding the nightmares that you knew were waiting.

Should have figured that the RIC's would sneak a keg on board, wouldn't be the first or last. So you sat at the table playing Sabac and decompressed as best you could. There were other Jedi in the cantina and you had managed to wave a few over to join the group, stars knew they needed a reprieve as much as the others here. They would drift by for a time, visit, and then leave to meditate. Master Undulii had also drifted by, mostly to express her thanks to you and Glitch. She did not wish to stay initially, but Glitch had handed the Jedi a Kaf and patted the seat between the two of you. The Mirilan had taken the unconventional beings in stride.

“These are all students of yours?”

Giving a nod you sipped at your beer, it was piss water cheap but the best you'd ever had. “Yes, most of this bunch went through the academy class with Anakin.”

“I see and these classes are open to anyone?” Luminara hadn't encouraged her apprentice to further her medical training past what was necessary in the Halls of Healing. Now she considered just how under prepared that had left the girl, how helpless she may have felt. Barris would not soon recover from this experience that was certain and perhaps time away in an academic setting would do her well.

You could see the wheels turning, needing just a little nudge, “I'd be happy to have you sit in on a class sometime.”

“Boss, why do I have a feeling that this lovely lady could probably teach the class?” Glitch snarked while simultaneously keeping an eye on the pack of troopers at the end of the room. She recognized 2224, no it was Cody he said, and couldn't help grinning when he'd blush after realizing that he got caught looking her way. But she also knew that involvement would be a bad idea so she was relegated to teasing him. Hearing your grumblings Glitch poked at you again, earning a smile from the other Jedi, “Probably run circles around you in the aid station too.”

“Ha ha Yalvaberg, though you're not wrong.” Slapping down your cards you folded your hand, glancing in your peripherals at Master Undulii. “Open offer for anyone at the Temple, Barris included.”

“Speaking of little bitty, where'd she get too?” Glitch took two more cards, watching the group of troopers head out of the hall. Just as well she thought.

Luminara was perplexed, “Little bitty?”

“Barris,” Glitch clarified, “Good things in small packages.”

Luminara quirked a brow until you explained that it was high praise indeed to have earned a nickname. Setting down her mug she smiled at the young people here. There was a closeness to this group, a bond made of grit and pain that gave them a strength. It touched her that Barris was now counted among them, “She is resting, I think I will go check on her though. You have my thanks again and I look forward to seeing you in the classroom.”

You watched as the more senior Master rose, graceful as ever, and floated from the room like a cloud on the wind. Finishing your own beverage you bid the others goodnight and left too, not before an extended hug from Deek though. There was much said in that hug, things that didn't need words but were bone deep and true. That you were both glad to be alive, that you were both relieved that the mission was done. That you both prayed it was the last close call.

Even as hard as you tried to quiet your mind, the racing thoughts wouldn't cease. The guilt and pain, all like a great mountain on you. Wandering the halls of the ship you found your way to the recovery wing. Most of the troopers you had worked on made it through secondary surgery, including A'den who gave you a waive leading you to stop and speak with him for a bit. It was a reward that little squeeze of his big hand, the smile he gave. None of that was why you did it, but kark it felt nice. There was an officer who was also checking on the men, his commanding presence standing out from the others. There was no conversation between you, simply a nod of greeting and both going about your way.

Further down the line were the injured Jedi. And while they were indeed alive, many were far from well. Several apprentices trembled in their beds or looked on blankly. The few Masters whom were present to shepard them weren't in much better shape. The Masters whose eyes reflected the gutting of loss everyone here felt. They would all require a great deal of psychological help after an event like this, needed experts in that field and not simply the healers at the Temple. It would be a discussion with the Council, but for another day. Turning to leave you came face to chest with an old acquaintance. “I'm so sorry, I didn't see...”

“L/n,” The voice growled low.

Your stomach dropped. There was Master Adeva, Togorian glare ever fixed. This was neither the time nor the place for a disagreement, “I was just leaving, good evening Master Adeva.”

Carefully trying move around him, you were far too tired to reign in your emotions, only making it a few steps when he began to growl.

“Is it all worth it?” Adeva grumbled the thought out loud. The older being saw how your posture slumped at his words, not thinking how you had interpreted the statement.

Deuce was speaking with a couple of recently promoted sergeants when he heard the trouble. His face turned stony watching the two Jedi. Who the hells did this beast think he was, speaking to the little medic like that? Your response to the feline though, it ripped him like a blaster bolt.

“No,” tears streamed as the hopeless answer left your lips. Glancing over your shoulder to him you whispered. “I should have died and saved you the effort.”

One of the injured troopers came alongside Deuce looking just as pissed, but the Alpha waited to see what the Togorian would do. Both Clones were unarmed, but stood ready to protect. This one had fought for his brothers lives, for that alone she had his respect. He whispered to the other clone, “Find the Jedi Kenobi, now!”

“You would say that, after all the trouble to save you?” Adeva turned his head studying the small woman. You did not seem yourself. Not sharp tongued or quick witted, almost like it pained you to even move.

“Yeah, well I didn't deserve it anyway. Said it yourself I'm weak, an embarrassment to my Master, an abomination. That I should have died long ago...” you rambled out. How you ached for rest, your ribs hollow with nothing left to give or fight with. A sardonic little hum escaped you, “Sorry to disappoint you and survive again when so many more deserving beings should have.”

The Togorian was stunned, though he should not be surprised. After all he had spoken the vile, hateful words that you now repeated, had encouraged his Padawan to do the same. His ears flattened as his voice filled with shame, “L/n...”

“I'll make it easy, save you the trouble for next time...” It was a choice everyday, to live or to give it up. Most days you could be strong, others you needed to bolster your strength just to slog through. Not today though, today you just wanted the bliss of silent oblivion. If your brain were in a more sound state it would recognize that this was not right, but all you could feel was pain and death and failure. Holding up your saber you pressed it into his paw like hand with the end at your chest. Voice quivering you bore your gaze into his, “Go ahead.”

“What?” Tightening his grip on the hilt he saw you eyes close relief. It was such an antitheses to whom he had now come to understand you to be. It was wrong, this whole situation was wrong and Adeva found himself regretting having contributed to your longing for death. Slowly, carefully he placed your saber on the medical cart nearest. Your eyes were angry with him even as tears began to fall. “No, I will not do that.”

“It's like a damned cosmic joke...” Laughing in pain as your head fell in resignation. “I am a wraith that even death has turned it's back on.”

“Master L/n... you misunderstand me.” Dipping his head, Adeva tried to meet your eyes. He no longer wished to fight with you. No, that was the past and it was time to act as a Jedi should. “We caused you such pain for so long. We were wrong. I was wrong... about everything.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“You saved my Padawan, Hashi wouldn't have made it out of the arena had you not intervened.”

“I -” your words were cut short by a growl.

“You and Kenobi were captured, tortured, and still confronted Dooku.” Adeva saw you clench and fiddle with your hands. “And all I can reason is that you must think this mission, this galaxy, worthy to suffer so.”

“Someone has to protect it.” Your voice was small, barely a scratching of words. “I did my duty.”

“No, you did more.” It was in that moment that Adeva knew just how much pain his words had caused over the years, how much you had endured. How wrong and twisted he had been and for what? Pride and tradition meant little if one could not act honorably towards their fellow beings. Your eyes were dark as they gazed back at him, “I was so very wrong about you and though I can never deserve it... please forgive me.”

It was an odd feeling, whiplashed from one extreme to the other. A being who had tormented you so long, whom you in many ways considered an adversary, asking pardon for the wrong he had done. You wanted to stay angry, to yell and scream, to let every boiling emotion set loose; but to what end really? You might be short tempered, perhaps brash and overly passionate, but you were not cruel. To release such fury upon even this being... no you would never cause pain willingly.

There were also all the hopeless gazes looking to you from the beds, wondering if this was all there was to their future? How could the Jedi continue if they only fought among themselves, unable to forgive their brothers and sisters. Wondering eyes asking if this was how their order would fall from the light into the abyss of shadow. No, even if darkness filled the stars above, you refused to be the one to snuff out their hope for a better tomorrow. This would not be the day that you crumbled, this would not be the day you let the light perish from this place. As hard as it was, you chose in that moment to live and fight one day more.

“I forgive you.”

“This way Sir.”

“Oh wee one...” Obi Wan had been pulled from his bed by one of the troopers. All he had been told was that you were in trouble and it was all he needed to hear. The fact that he could only mildly feel your presence in the Force raised alarm bells.

“There Sir, look.”

Glancing ahead you rounded the corner with an escort of your own. Alpha 22 was flanking your side, a concerned look on his face. Obi Wan watched as you simply seemed to exist, as though a spirit trapped in the land of the living. There was no sign of your usual spark of liveliness and it sent a shiver down his back. The imposing trooper at your side simply guided you forward, firmly but with care. As the two men glanced at each other there was a silent understanding.

“Keep a close eye on this one, she's... in need of rest.” Deuce glanced down at the woman, deeply troubled by what he'd seen. He'd seen some of his Vod'e over the years who had cracked before graduation or from the treatment of their trainers. He well recognized that look in your eyes. Tilting his head Deuce softened his tone again, “You take care now Baar'ur'ika, want to see you at formation when we land.”

“I'll take her from here,” Obi Wan whispered as his arm came around your shoulders. It was a long walk back, every step of the journey made like you were shuffling through duracrete. He felt the raging torrent rippling from your signature even as your face remained placidly flat. Studying you carefully he knew there was something truly wrong. You hadn't changed, robes in need of incineration rather than cleaning. Worse yet you were silent, not uttering a word to him only holding his hand tightly like a lifeline. As he closed and locked the door Obi Wan gently cupped your face, “Wee one?”

Blinking at him you gazed wide eyed, but unseeing. Your mind was stuck on what had happened in the med bay, the terrible things you said. How could you have let that blackness out, how could you expose the others to your dark mind? When Obi Wan tried to grasp your arms you backed away shrinking into yourself, not wanting to hurt him too. You'd only contaminate him, you had to keep him safe. The thoughts raged again, the horrible images that Dooku had put in your mind rising like the tide. Was it torture or a vision, would they all die just like you had seen?

“Love?” Obi Wan watched as you started to shake and cry, hands flying to clutch your head. He fought to grab you then, bringing you with him to the floor as you screamed into his chest. Blood curdling agony escaping with every breath, eyes wild in fear. You fought his hold not seeing him, but instead some spectral horror. It took pushing his own calm upon your signature to placate the worst of it; he kept soothing your hair as he whispered through his own growing dread. “It's alright now, we're safe... we're all safe. Please Y/n come back, don't leave me now... please come back to me.”

You could feel the distant glimmer of his signature, that small flicker of light in the swirling dark, “Obi?”

“I'm here love. Tell me how to help, what did the devil do to you?” Kissing your forehead his face scrunched in concentration. You whole body shook frantically as your face blanched, but he was determined and pressed through the connection, “Y/n let me in.”

“No! You can't... not safe...” You were so frightened of hurting him, fighting with what little you had in you to push back.

“I'm not letting you suffer, not another minute. Now let me in.” Obi Wan lurched bodily as the first images came through, crying out in pain. Pushing further through the dark web, he grasped onto your signature more fully. You had both survived the arena and he wouldn't loose you now. It was as if Dooku had set a hurricane loose in your mind of all the dark fears you hid away even from him. Trying with all his might Obi Wan began to untangle the dark web in which you were caught, forcing more peaceful thoughts over the storm.

Things he knew calmed you, things that brought you joy. Images of forests and small animals you'd seen on missions, of nights at the diner, the memory of that first kiss under the stars. He felt as your body began to slacken in his hold, going limp as your cries softened to sniffles. Whispering against your head as he continued to soothe, “Stay with me in the light, don't leave. I'll do anything, but please stay darling.”

“I'm trying, it's so hard,” Your voice a whimper, “I'm so tired Obi.”

“Then let me take care of you, as you've done for me.” Obi Wan lifted your face from where it was buried in his chest, eyes bloodshot. They were still the most beautiful eyes he knew. “That's it darling, just hold tightly and all will be well.”

“P-promise?”

“I promise, just hold on.” Carefully Obi Wan carried you to the fresher. Hands steady and gentle as he cleaned the dirt away, holding you as your tears rinsed down the drain with the suds. He was loving in every way as he dried and helped you into fresh robes, laying with you on the bed. It hurt him to see you in such pain, what he would give to take it from you. “Any better sweetling?”

Curling into his body the errand tears still rolled down your cheek. “I'm sorry Obi...”

“Shh none of that wee woman, nothing to be sorry for at all.” You huffed and burrowed into his chest further on a little cry. Obi Wan sighed, slowly soothing a hand at your back. You always managed to find your way before, yet you lay so broken here in his arms. Perhaps all that was required was to remind you of whom you were, “You're so strong Y/n, knew from the first minute I saw you.”

Looking up through wet lashes you hummed curiously.

“It's true, really. You looked ready to fight anyone that would say a word about your Master at her service and then...” He hummed wistfully, “You glanced over and smiled at me.”

“I did?” You mumbled, trying to remember if what your Obi Boy said was true, honestly couldn't recall much of that day really. You hadn't even known Obi Wan then, but you do recall him and Qui Gon being present.

“Indeed you did. Only the strongest beings remain so kind even in the midst of such pain.” He'd only just returned to the order himself, feeling out of place and alone. Obi Wan had dutifully gone to the services, accompanying Master Qui Gon as he bid a friend farewell. Still he felt out of place, under scrutiny even in the midst of mourning. Obi Wan had glanced back at you, watching as he felt the ripples of your palpable sorrow and wondered how you stood so gracefully. Then you had glanced over during the funeral as though sensing his eyes lingering and smiled at him. You had seen him, another lost soul and smiled. He fell for you then and you had ever been a part of him. “Still the strongest person I know.”

“I'm not,” Your arms squeezed him tighter, voice choking on the words. “I wish that were true but... Obi I'm so tired of it. All the missions, all the rules, all the fighting and pain. I don't want to do it anymore...” Soft little sobs escaped despite your best efforts.

He knew, had for so very long. The Temple had always been a gilded cage and honestly even he had come to hate it at times. What would it be like to simply walk with you, unafraid of being seen or judged. What would it be like to have a home away from all of this, only you two? As much as it would pain him, Obi Wan was prepared to make that sacrifice, if that was what you needed of him. Then he felt your soft touch on his jaw and glanced down into your watery eyes.

“...But I'll stay for you... and Anakin. You're my family, I go where you go.” Kissing softly at the top of his chest you started to drift into the depths of your exhaustion. “I love you.”

“And I you, so very much.” His voice broke like waves upon the shore, “I promise you Y/n...”

Shaking your head on a hum you brought his face to meet with yours, lips gently embracing. Salty tears marred the tender joining, maybe that was the best the day could offer. Perhaps that was all there would be is stolen moments and little victories, but it was more than most. You weren't ambitious enough to think past now, living in this moment and nowhere else. No promises of anything but the next sweet kiss from your man. That was the only thing you trusted right now.

Obi Wan could feel just how tenuous your hold was, the way your signature flickered. Like embers in a banked fire, as easily rekindled as it was to be dashed out. So he pressed just a little more, deepening the kiss and tracing your features softly. Fingertips ghosting the line of your jaw till he could comb his fingers into your soft hair. There was more grays streaking through, not from age but from all that life had brought. Laugh lines and freckles that came with time, and not a one would he trade. The two of you had raised Anakin, survived so many missions and mishaps, earning every worry line and sign of age together. On a soft grin Obi Wan began to whisper, a secret just between you. “What would you do Y/n... if we did leave?”

“What?”

“If we left the Order, what would you want to do?” He stroked his thumb at your temple, humming his own contemplation. “I think I'd be a teacher.”

Watching the corners of his eyes crinkle made you believe, even for a minute, it might be possible. That after all of this you might be able to have what you wanted. It was a dangerous feeling, this hope, and not something that would happen until this matter with Dooku was settled. Your Master still needed your help, you couldn't abandon him or the rest of the Jedi now. But here, with your Obi Wan it was safe enough to dream. “I think... just a little clinic. Little younglings with colds and sore throats, school check ups...”

Obi Wan pursed his lips in thought, “We could have a massif.”

“You're more of a tooka person,” you mumbled.

Closing his eyes, Obi Wan murmured, “We could have more than pets... if you'd want.”

“Seems you've thought about this,”voice thick at the thought of what he described. You had secretly wondered the same from time to time, “A little boy maybe...”

“A little family somewhere quiet. Nowhere to go or missions to complete,” he chuckled, “We'd be bored to tears.”

“Boredom sounds good.” a bitter grin etched across your face, “But I have a feeling we won't be bored for quite some time my love.”

“No, I suspect you're right about that. I'm sorry we couldn't stop it Y/n...”

Pulling Obi Wan into another kiss you shook your head, “Not tonight... leave it till morning please?”

Obi Wan soothed you through the night terrors and held you tightly when his own came on. Yesterday the war began, but here in their bunk there was peace.

Even if only for tonight.

tags: @obislittleone @the-rain-on-kamino @a-rose-of-amber @aquaamethyst96 @stanny-uwu @nurseytypechick @just-dreaming-marvel @in-a-mellow-tone @acatalystrising @pickleprickle @iambored24601 @purplepandora666 @misscamptl @wannabakewithsomebody @obiknights @moostresskenobi @the-going-merry @ginger-swag-rapunzelre @iabrokengirl @lovelyxlily @annasun13 @foxperifoto @supernaturallover2002 @imherefordeanandbones

[stellanslashgeode]

11,12,25,and 46 for the writer ask game! 💚💙

11. Link to three of your favorite fics right now

I really enjoyed honey, you're familiar, a great one-room one-shot like a stage play that uses chess as a metaphor for strategically making your way through a tough reunion.

And you know I have to boost your Luminara & Barriss, it's just hits just the right spots to give me those feelings.

And starwatcher (hold your ground) is a very unique canon divergence fic, and we really don't get enough set during Attack of the Clones. I'm way behind on it, @bettyxrosex has an admirable work ethic.

12. How does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

This is a hard one because on some level I am aware of my audience and do want to please them. And I'm often surprised on what gets hits and what doesn't. I'm working on Way of the Mynock right now because I have a lot of ideas for it, yes. But also because it's gotten a lot of hits and I want to keep the momentum up. Contrasts, by contrast, hasn't gotten much feedback. But that's okay, I'm kind of writing that as therapy. Plus, the next chapter is a long diversion to the High Republic Era (the undervalued Phase II even) which isn't as popular. But I love this group of characters that will be in it. Because it's a "one for me" I can afford to take my time.

Dusk of a Golden Age hasn't gotten as many readers but the comments on it were so sweet and encouraging! I am dedicated to finishing it and polishing well before publishing. Sometimes series with a few, but enthusiastic readers are the best ones.

Sometimes I write things knowing few people will read it, but a select few will be looking for that sort of story and will love it. Microcasting. Theed Lament is like that. It has under 100 hits, but I hope I really scratched an itch for dozens who were looking for that experience.

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

Oh, that's easy. Jedi: Dropout. It's a fic with all OCs so I knew it would not pop up in searches very often, but it's where I hid a lot of my worldbuilding for Mirial and Mirialan religion and culture. So, if you're a reader and you like the pantheon I created and put into my Barrissoka stuff go read that too. I also hid a lot of my musing on the Jedi and their practices there. And it is a great little slow burn about two girlfailures (and Nerf herding).

46. How do you describe your style.

Character driven. High on interiority. I sometimes have action-focused stuff but it's not very grand and epic. Action and violence are usually small scale and in close quarters, I don't do grand battle scenes. Because the characters get lost in that. I make a point to occasionally injure the characters I love and want to protect so I don't handle them too preciously. Sometimes I try to just write smut but always put a lot of emotional breakthroughs in there too because I just can't help myself. Is there a term for a coming-of-age genre but it's about that 25-30 age range? I find that time of life very compelling, you're past your education and need to figure yourself out again as an adult.

Thanks for the asks, Bailey! I'll also link the original post so we can keep this going.

[sullustangin]

Fria for the SWTOR Outfit Designer Meme!

Fria our beloved consular! TY for asking!

Fria as she appears in my fan fic is deliberately non-specific as to how she looks; she can be however the reader imagines her. However, for in-game purposes, she is a Mirialan. (She does have a Glasglow smile, but that happens during the 5 year gap...) I had a consular previous to her and I was mostly re-running the story for fic plot points when I created her. As such, she doesn't have many outfits -- only 3 ...but I have decided she has a nice hat for each one.

My logic is that if consulars are the diplomats, then their hats have a much better chance of survival compared to the other classes. They can splurge at the haberdashery, rather than relying on hoods and headbands and helmets. This is the Dramassian Force Expert's crafted set. It's basic, but really, it's all about that hat for me.

PS @ermingarden (since I forgot to say) Fria has 3 outfits, but Eva has... 23 outfits. And probably more to come once I get the cartel coins....