#star wars: rebels fanfiction

[laurelslegacy]

Hera”don’t be a dick Kallus!!

Don’t mess with space mom’s kids… yes Zeb is older but totally her kid

[lothcat-lothcat-lothwolf-run]

this would go crazy on the holonet

[trashy1turtle]

Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

[leapingbadger]

The Fallen

Summary - Hunter regrets not being able to save the young Jedi on Kaller. It’s through Omega joining the rebellion that he finally gets some closure.

Read on AO3

Hunter pulled himself up into the storage locker over the top of the Marauder’s main cabin. Crates had fallen haphazardly on their side from Tech’s latest evasive maneuvers. He set about straightening them and shifting them back into place. He came across a long storage locker at the far end, Crosshair’s armor. He hesitated to touch it, before surging forward and methodically securing it into place.

He sat down and wiped sweat off his brow. The heat of Ord Mantel of late was oppressive, just another reason Hunter was hoping they could leave soon and find a more suitable base for themselves.

“Omega,” Hunter called down, “Comm Tech, tell him to pick up more power converters. We’re out up here.”

“On it,” she said, excitedly pressing the button of her comm and relaying the request to her brother. He heard his brother’s taciturn response and lowered himself back down into the ship, his heavy boots hitting the floor with a clang.

He sighed. How had this ship become such a mess? Half eaten ration bars, medical wipes, dirt and pieces of discarded detritus littered the floor. They’d have to clean it up before their next mission.

“Hunter?” Omega asked

“Hmm,” he responded, distractedly picking up bits of rubbish from the floor and throwing them out the door to the space port.

“Why did you take me off of Kamino?” she asked.

“What do you mean? it wasn’t safe,” he said simply without taking his eyes off his current task.

“I know,” she responded twisting the hem of her tunic in her fingers, “but why did you come back for me? What’s so special about me?”

Hunter turned to meet her eyes and took in the look on her face. He couldn’t decide if it was curiosity or something else. “You’re one of us Omega. If I’d known that at the time we wouldn’t have left you behind in the first place.” His words stung in his throat as he thought of Crosshair, the last member of Clone Force 99 on Kamino.

She signed and gave him a small smile, but she didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. “There wasn’t…another reason?” she asked quietly, not meeting his gaze.

Hunter sank into the nearby chair by the communications array. “Omega, tell me what you need to know.”

Her large brown eyes looked up at him sadly, her bright, blonde, cropped hair still too short to be tucked behind her ear, fell over her forehead.

“Tech told me about Kaller.”

“Okay,” Hunter said, “is this about… Crosshair?”

Omega looked alarmed and shook her head, “No it’s not that…Tech mentioned something, the other day. About a boy you tried to save…but couldn’t.”

Hunter felt his stomach clench as he finally understood. “How did this even come up?”

Omega shrugged, “Tech was going through Imperial files. He said he was checking on something for you.”

Hunter let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, kid. There was a boy, a Jedi. Caleb. We were on a mission, our last mission for the Republic actually when…when things changed…” Hunter paused and felt a rush of cold over his whole body as though he were back on that ice planet, standing at the cliff edge, begging to be heard by a scared kid.

“What happened?” Omega asked in a tiny voice, as though trying not to intrude on Hunter’s memories.

He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, “The inhibitor chips activated in the middle of the mission. The Regs executed the General…” Hunter heard the General’s cries of ‘Run, Caleb,’ and tried to shake them off. “We tried to help the kid, but we didn’t know that Crosshair was… affected…didn’t understand what was happening. Caleb escaped; but…I couldn’t protect him. He didn’t trust me. When we met you, I thought maybe I could help protect you.” He said simply. Hoping he’d explained it right. Hoping she didn’t feel like a runner up or that their choice would have been different if they had managed to save Caleb as well.

“What happened to Caleb?” Omega asked, eyes wide.

“Tech checks the imperial records periodically for any mention of him. If he was captured, they’d make it known. So far, we haven’t found anything.”

“So, he survived?” she asked optimistically.

Hunter smiled, “I hope so.”

Hunter watched as Omega paused, clearly thinking through her next question carefully. She was still ringing her tunic through her hands as though nervous.

Hunter rested his hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him, “Omega, even if we had succeeded in helping Caleb, we would still have wanted to take you off Kamino. You weren’t a consolation prize. You’re a member of our squad, were a member of our squad even then. We just didn’t know it yet. Do you understand?”

Omega’s shoulders relaxed as he spoke, her smile becoming broad, pink patches appearing on her cheeks, “Okay, Hunter.”

He smiled and patted her shoulder.  “Can you help me clear this mess up before the others get back?”

“Of course,” she said happily, flitting around the ship, making herself useful.

Hunter and Omega moved to opposite ends of the Ship. Hunter came across Tech’s secondary datapad resting on the pilot seat and turned it on. The imperial data was still up. He stood as the sun streamed through the window of the Marauders cockpit. Scrolling through the data slowly, not wanting to miss any hints or mentions. Finally, setting it down he breathed a sigh of relief. There was no mention of Jedi Caleb Doom.

“Are we done?” Omega asked, looking around the ship.

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s go find the others,” he said leading the young clone out in to steamy Ord Mantell.

***

The sunlight streamed into the pabu cottage. Hunter was fixing himself some caf when he felt a buzzing on the edge of his senses.

“Wrecker, check the comm. Omega’s calling,”

A few seconds later the comm on the common room table trilled, signaling a call.

“How do you do that?” Wrecker grumbled as he made his way out of this bedroom. He pressed the button to connect the call and grinned as Omega’s smiling face came into the frame.

“Now, there’s a site” he said joyfully, collapsing on the sofa behind him and reaching out to touch her face.

“Where’s Hunter?” she asked breathlessly. Wrecker looked taken aback and she quickly took a breath, “Sorry Wrecker. How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said, waving her bluntness away. “Hunter’s coming, just in the Kitchen,”

“I’m here,” Hunter said, striding into the room with his cup and sitting next to his brother. “How are you? You look tired,”

Omega rolled her eyes and took a breath, “There’s something I have to tell you.” she said, hands up for emphasis as she talked. “Where’s Crosshair?”

“Still sleeping,” Hunter interjected. “Should we wake him?”

“Um…probably not just yet.”

Wrecker and Hunter traded a glance and turned back to their kid. Her hair was pulled back into a braid that trailed down her back, her bangs still draped over her right eye. She wore a bright yellow jacket over a brown jumpsuit that looked old and stained.

“Are you okay? Anything happen?” Hunter asked, leaning forward to try and read her face. He noticed a bruise under her right eye but didn’t say anything. Noting it for later.

“No… I mean, yes something did happen but nothing bad. I just…I had to tell you,”

Hunter’s brow furrowed. She was dancing around whatever she wanted to tell him, and he felt a knot grow in his stomach. If she needed something, help, he couldn’t get to her in time. Although, it didn’t seem like she was in trouble.

“I found him,” She took a deep breath again, closing her eyes as though to center herself. “I found Caleb Dume, Hunter, He’s here. On the base. With Hera.”

“Wait, Hera from Ryloth?” Hunter’s eyes flicked left and right, trying to remember the green Twi’lek girl they had helped all those years ago.

“Yes,” Omega said jubilantly. “She’s in the rebellion. I ran into her yesterday, her and her crew. We got a chance to catch up this morning and her, I dunno, boyfriend maybe, his name in Kanen but she told me it used to be Caleb. That he changed it after the war because he was a jedi. He’s here, Hunter. He survived.”

The words spilled out of Omega’s mouth as though she couldn’t contain them any longer. Hunter felt like he had been struck in the face. He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his beard, thinking back to that fateful day. He felt a cool breeze sweep down his spine. Part of his chest released, as though he had been holding something there all these years.

“Hunter? Are you okay?” Omega said, shooting Wrecker with a worried look.

“Yeah. Yeah, kid. I’m…great. That’s…that’s amazing news.” He said with a smile.

“Do you want to talk to him, I can see if I can…”

“No.” Hunter said firmly. Again, Omega and Wrecker exchanged glances. “I don’t think he’d want to see us. I’m sure that’s something he’s been trying to forget.”

“But you tried to save him…”

“I know that, and you know that. He doesn’t know that. He didn’t feel that, or he would have come with us all those years ago. I think…I think it’s best if you just let it lie. He’s alive and that’s amazing news.”

Wrecker nodded solemnly next to him and clapped Hunter on the back.

“Okay,” Omega said, slightly deflated.

“Why don’t you tell us about your adventures.” Hunter said encouragingly, hoping to change the subject.

Omega’s face lit up and she spoke about her most recent mission for the rebellion. Hunter winced at the occasional close call and knew she was keeping the really dangerous information to herself for their sake. Crosshair joined the conversation halfway through, waking up to the sound of Omega’s voice and leaping out of bed.

They talked for a while, laughing about old times, drinking up the stories of Omega’s missions when an alarm blared behind her.

“Oh, that’s me. I have to go,” she said hastily.

“Bye Omega,” Wrecker called, waving at her.

“Be Safe.” Said Crosshair.

They both walked back to their respective rooms.

“Hunter?” Omega asked, the alarm still blaring in the background.

“Yeah, Kid?”

“Should I lie if they ask where I’m from? If Hera asks about you?”

Hunter smiled and took in the worry in her eyes. “You don’t have to lie about who you are Omega. We’re proud that you’re a member of our squad and I know you are too. Maybe just let Hera know and see if she has any suggestions on how to handle things. She was pretty perceptive as a kid.”

Omega smiled and nodded. “Will do,” She have a little salute that Hunter returned with a smile.

“We miss you, Kid. Stay safe. Come home soon.”

The connection broke and the room fell silent. Hunter sat back on the couch, elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands. After all this time, finally knowing that Caleb had survived to adulthood was overwhelming. He felt his chest constrict and tears prickle in the corner of his eyes. He took a deep breath, forcing them to pass. He had survived.

***

Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair stood back as the ship’s ramp lowered onto the stone top of Pabu. Blossoms from the weeping maya tree scattered in the warm breeze. The scent of honey and salt water wafting in the air.

Hunter smiled as he saw Omega as soon as she rounded the corner. She charged down the ramp her long blond hair streaking behind her as she leapt into his arms, almost knocking him over.

“It’s so good to see you,” She cried into his neck.

“New ship?” Hunter asked, gazing up at the yellow and red stiped freighter.

“Not exactly. I just bummed a ride,” she said, hugging Wrecker and Crosshair in turn.

She looked smug as she turned back to the ship in time to see a tall, green Twi’lek exit, an orange droid trailing obediently after her.

“Is that..?” Wrecker started.

“Hera Syndulla,” Hunter said with a smile. She was almost as tall as Omega and waved as she came down the ramp.

“What brings you here?” Hunter asked.

“I thought it was about time I brought your daughter back to you before she tried to get herself blown up again.” She said with a laugh, her Lekku swaying in the breeze.

Omega rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

“Besides, I could do with a vacation, and I hear this is quite the restful spot.”

“It is when Omega’s not around,” Crosshair said sarcastically.

“You must be Crosshair,” Hera said, extending her hand. Crosshair took it and smiled over at Omega.

“Been telling stories?” he asked her.

“Only the good ones.” she replied, putting her arm around his shoulder.

“How long ya staying, Megs” Wrecker asked hopefully.

“Only a couple of rotations. The rest of the team are still on Lothal so we can’t be gone too long.”

“Do you want to head to the house? Or are you staying on the ship?” Hunter asked

“I think Hera is staying on the ship, but I’d like my own bed, at least for a couple of nights.” Omega said, and Hunter tried to suppress his joy. The house was never quiet, but it was certainly more so when Omega was gone. “But first, there’s something I want you to see on the Ship. Hunter? Maybe just you first?”

Hunter’s brow furrowed as he looked at Omega. She and Hera traded glances but smiled.

“I promise it’s nothing bad.” She said, taking his hand and leading him up the ramp. Hunter shrugged at his brothers and followed. They walked through the cargo hold and up into the body of the ship, past some living quarters. He paused as they came to the door of the common room.

“You know my senses aren’t completely dead, right?”

Omega gave an embarrassed smile and pressed the panel for the door release.

Sitting at the console table in the middle of the room was a man. Long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, much like his own. Lightsaber hilt hanging from his belt. His Intense eyes gazed at Hunter.

Hunter’s feet took him into the room without his body being conscious of it.

“Commander,” Hunter said in greeting with a slight nod of his head.

“Sergeant,” Caleb replied in a raspy voice.

“It’s just Hunter now,” Hunter said with a shrug, moving further into the room.

“Kanan,” he replied.

Omega and Hera hovered in the hallway, eyes flicking from one to another as though wondering if they needed to supervise.

“Its fine.” Kanan said, waving his hand, closing the door.

Hunter sighed. Trying not to stare at the face that had haunted him. His eyes were darker, his face more severe but he could easily see the young padawan in the bones on the jedi in front of him.

“I’m glad you survived,” Hunter said, his voice hoarser than he was expecting.

“Thanks. It wasn’t easy.”

“I bet,” Hunter said.

A silence fell in the room. The sounds of the ship, the murmur of conversation from Omega and Hera in the hallway, the squeaks of the moon-yos on the island seem tampered in the room, as though sound couldn’t penetrate the atmosphere.

“Omega told me about your squad.” Kanan continued, getting up from his seat and crossing over to Hunter. “can’t say I was surprised that you took in a helpless kid.”

Hunter shrugged. “She was one of us.”

“Yeah, so she said. She mentioned that you tried to find me in imperial files.”

Hunter nodded but didn’t say more. He felt uneasy, like he was in two places at once. Two versions of himself were colliding.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you,” he said, after a long pause.

Kanan shrugged, “If you had I wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t have met Hera. The force works in mysterious ways…But thank you for trying.”

Hunter smiled. “Any time.”

Kanan laughed, “don’t let Here hear you say that. She’ll have you signed up for the rebellion in no time.”

Hunter laughed too, “Sorry, we’re officially retired.”

“Yeah, that’s what Rex said too.” Kanan said with a smile.

Time in the cockpit of the ghost passed easily after the initial shock had worn off. Kanan had caught Hunter up on his teams exploits on Lothal and some of Omega’s more harrowing missions she had neglected to mention. He’d be sure to ask her about that later.

“A padawan of your own.” He said, after listening to Kanan divulge the inner workings of a life with a young force user. “I bet General Balaba would be very proud of the life you’ve made for yourself.” Hunter said, hoping he wasn’t crossing the line in invoking her name.

“Thank you” Kanan said “I hope so. Any advice on raising a kid in a war zone?”

Hunter laughed, “Well technically Omega’s older than us, so you may have to ask her. The only advice I got was that she wasn’t a soldier and that I couldn’t expect her to act like one. We just followed that track, taught her what she needed to know to stay safe, trusted her intuition and expertise and fought for her with every fiber of our being. It wasn’t easy but it ended up okay…in the end.”

Kanan smiled. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

***

Two rotations went by too quickly for Hunter’s liking. He was just getting used to Omega being home when it was time for her to leave. She smiled as she left her bedroom that morning, bed bandana pushing her hair back off her face.

“Uh, I’m not ready for you to go yet,” he said to her as she swept into the kitchen and grabbed a mug of caf.

“I know, but we’re finally making some progress, we can’t give up now.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Omega asked, peeking around the corner into the common room.

“Up top with the Ghost,” Hunter replied.

“Did Crosshair and Kanan…”

“Yeah, a little. I don’t think either of them want to think about that time. We all just need to move on.”

Omega nodded, swallowing the last of her caf and wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“We’re you raised in a barn?” Hunter asked, exasperated.

She laughed, “no, with a bunch of fugitives though.”

Hunter chuckled and followed her out the door, up the path and to the crest of Pabu.

***

Hunter woke with a start. It was the middle of the night. The comm in the common room had sprung to life. It could only be one person. He was out of bed and had sprung over the back of the couch before the comm chimed a second time.

“Hunter?” Omega wailed into the comm. Her face was tear stained; her hair disheveled, large black bags hung under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. The dark room was illuminated with nothing but the blue light of the comm.

“Omega, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked desperation in his voice. He reached out to wipe the tears from her cheek, interrupting the feed as he did so. She flickered and disappeared before coming back.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. Hunter felt as though a brick had dropped into his chest. He knew who she was talking about, without having to ask. He just knew. “Kanan’s dead.”

She was completely incoherent now. Hunter tried his best to comfort her. “It’s okay Omega. Tell me what happened. Do you need us to come to you? Where are you? Are you safe? Is Hera safe?”

Minutes passed as Omega tried to regain control. He hadn’t seen her like this in years, not since Tech. She took deep, shuddering breaths and finally regained some control.

The noise had woken his brothers. Wrecker and Crosshair were both out of bed, Hunter sandwiched between them on the couch.

“…there was an explosion. They were trying to rescue Hera. He saved her. Saved them all but he was…he died.”

Hunter hung his head. Of course he died protecting his family. Hunter would have done the same thing.

“I’m sorry, Omega. Do you need to come home?”

“No. No, I’ll be fine.” she said, sniffing heavily. “I just… wanted to tell you. I know you…he was important to…”

“I’m fine, Omega. Focus on yourself and Hera. Come home when you’re ready. We miss you.”

His brothers nodded an affirmative. The call ended and Crosshair and Wrecker padded back to their rooms, lost in their own thoughts.

The room was dark but for the moonlight streaming in the kitchen window. Hunter padded quietly over to the far cabinet and pulled a bottle of spirit down. Uncorking it he poured himself and glass, opened the front door and strode out to the wooden bench on the patio.  The moonlight danced on the waves below.

He closed his eyes.

“You ready for this Kid, we move fast.”

“Good, that’s the only way I know.”

Hunter ran his hand over his hair and sighed. “May the force be with you, Caleb.” he said, holding the glass up to the midnight sky. He lowered it to his lips and took a deep drink.

[swartists4palestine]

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[moonstrider9904]

Lose It

Grand Admiral Thrawn x Female Reader

Summary: As Governor Pryce's assistant, you've had to put up with a lot of things and meet a lot of stuck up imperials with flying colors, but when Grand Admiral Thrawn lands on Lothal, you find yourself stuttering upon your words, flustered, and invited to a gala dinner that'll define your career.

Tags/warnings: SMUT. 18+ adults only. Corporate struggles, Pryce being mean, first meetings, alcohol consumption, making out, PiV sex unprotected, fingering. This is my first time in a long while writing Thrawn, so sorry if any of this is ooc.

Word count: 8042

Playlist: Lose it by Oh Wonder - and its Jerry Folk Remix for the smut 👀

Read on AO3 | One-shot masterlist | Main masterlist |

With your eyes glued to the datapad, you felt as if caf would be the only thing to get you through that morning.

Sunrises on Lothal were beautiful, and yet, you were never able to enjoy them. Your desk on the seventh floor, a place relatively close to the much more humane office destined for your boss, was in a tiny reception room that had no windows; you'd have to walk a good kilometer inside the facility for you to get a glimpse of the outside world. You didn't mind the walking - it was always good for your mind whenever you felt saturated - but lately it seemed as if your boss had the uncanny ability to always demand something new from you whenever you resolved to walk out that door to do anything remotely human. Never being one to be superstitious, when it came to Governor Pryce, you wouldn't give her any more leverage.

You scoffed lightly at yourself. With the boss you had, it was a miracle the cup of caf you were drinking was actually for yourself and not for her. You had a little wager going on in your head to see what else that woman could take from you - so far, she'd already claimed your motivation and a good chunk of your faith in the Empire.

You regretted having Pryce on your thoughts when a notification pushed itself to the corner of your datapad. I'm not available, you thought to yourself, as if that had ever kept you from doing anything that was beneath you before, or worse, getting locked in a task that would absorb all your time and sucked the energy out of you like a leech. There never seemed to be an in between. You scanned the subject and, though you didn't hear alarms being set off in your mind, you did find your interest piqued.

URGENT: Imperial High Command Visit, Subject Classified. All imperial personnel directly reporting to levels SC6 and above must report to direct management for instructions.

And sure enough, you'd have no more peace for the remainder of the morning when you read that. You downed the rest of your caf and mentally braced yourself for what was to come. It wasn't uncommon for you to receive messages like that, but something big usually happened when you did, and you were used to finding out who or what it was about until the very last moments. It looked like it would simply be one of those days, so you grabbed your datapad and left your desk, making your way across the little reception room and into Pryce's office.

One thing you figured you could appreciate about Pryce was that there was never any beating around the bush, and it always made things a lot quicker, even in situations when it felt like you were having a band aid ripped from you. More like a piece of duct tape, but it was quick either way. And when you walked into her office, your back straight and gaze placed directly on your boss, donning what she would deem the desirable posture of an Imperial public servant, Pryce was already standing up from behind her desk with her blue eyes piercing into you.

Only she could make such a beautiful eye color look so menacing.

"You're here not two minutes after my comm was sent," Pryce commented. "I want that efficiency from you every day."

You were that efficient every day, but you weren't about to argue with Pryce about her short-sightedness.

"Put everything you were working with on hold for now," Pryce told you.

You didn't question the importance of the current events, but you never liked it when she told you to cast things aside to make room for her new wishes.

"I need you to send this out as a comm to all staff levels SC5 and below," Pryce handed you a drive, "and then I need you to make sure Congregation Room 2 is set to receive a minimum of seven people, but leave three extra chairs and make sure it's well stocked in refreshments. Put all my comms outside of lines 1 and 2 on standby, redirect comms from lines 4 and 6 towards you, I'm sure those are all things you can handle."

Pryce began walking past you outside of her office, leaving you to follow as you made a mental list of what she was asking.

"Do not answer any questions you're asked by anyone," Pryce continued. "At the most, tell anyone who wants to know to refer to the comm I'm asking you to send out. Now, in that hard drive you'll find the comm, two diagrams, a statement, and a final comm different to the first one which must be sent out only to levels SC6 and above - they are all in the order they're meant to be sent out and the time and date is encrypted in their properties. Stick to them like clockwork, and program anything you need ahead of time. We cannot afford mistakes, I hope I'm clear about that. Once you're done with these duties, find me. I'll need you at my side the whole day."

"Yes, Governor Pryce," you answered with your most professional tone.

Pryce stopped in front of your desk in the reception. "One more thing. Tomorrow night there will be a welcoming gala on the higher levels of the facility. I assume you have something to wear?"

"Ma'am?" You questioned, inevitably puzzled. You were open to many requests from Pryce, and while nearly nothing surprised you anymore, it really sounded like Pryce was inviting you to a fancy event.

"You won't be dancing and fine dining," Pryce sneered. "You'll be assisting me as well as the logistics staff for the event. And, I cannot repeat this with enough emphasis, we cannot afford mistakes. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," you answered again.

Pryce was about to leave the reception and finally give you room to work, but she stopped and looked at you again.

"Ah, and refill the caf pots for the entire floor, we're all going to need it," Pryce spat before finally leaving without so much as a thank you or goodbye.

Would you like me to refill the fat cats' caf pots before or after I send out a highly important, classified comm to the entire facility? It was all you could do not to roll your eyes. You didn't want any cameras catching you in the act.

Luckily, you'd gotten very good at prioritizing. The high commands could wait for their caf, and if they couldn't, they could very well brew it themselves. The first thing on the list was checking the drive Pryce had given you so that you could write out any comms and either send them or program them, so you plugged the drive into your computer. You found that one of the diagrams Pryce had told you about wasn't meant to be sent out, but rather, it was full of instructions for you. And according to those instructions, you'd have time to be a professional performing tasks worthy of her level before fulfilling a caf quest that was very much beneath you.

But the other diagram caught your eye - it was a command structure you'd never seen before. You knew many of the names on it, and when you read the one at the top, began to grasp the magnitude of what was happening at Lothal. It seemed Pryce wouldn't be the top authority on the planet anymore, she'd now be answering to someone who carried a title far more imposing than hers.

The diagram was meant to be sent out with the first comm, so you read the draft, and you didn't know whether you should panic, be excited, or hide from anyone who already recognized you as assistant to the Governor who would want privileged answers. Words like Command Structure Reformation, High Level Staff Transition, and Low-level Cost Reduction caught your eye. You'd heard whispers of new projects and seen the factories that were being built on Lothal from afar, and it seemed you were the one being tasked with telling the facility about that. But you had the hunch something like this would only leave everyone with more questions than answers. No wonder Pryce had warned you about people asking you things, but you doubted it was out of any effort to protect you. She'd essentially just asked you to keep from saying anything that might spill any secrets.

You sent out the first comm immediately and scheduled anything else for the day, including the comm about the gala—that one got you wondering if you'd at least be paid extra, but you had little faith in that. When you were done with that, you locked the computer and removed the drive, and you took your datapad with you as well for whatever came up. You were now headed towards Congregation Room 2 to oversee its preparations, hoping to swiftly fulfill the second part of your instructions for that morning, but as you were leaving the reception room and entering the main hallway, you were abruptly almost bumped into by Pryce herself, who rushed down the hall followed by three Imperial men in high-ranking uniforms. Despite her urgency, she stopped to glare at you.

"Do not tell me you're only just finishing the comms," Pryce snarled. "Hurry up and fill the pots! Are you trying to make the staff furious?"

Without any other acknowledgement towards you, Pryce and the other imperials continued on their way. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks with the words you couldn't say to her, such as how perhaps she forgot what it was like to do routine comm writing or basically any other task the commoner would have to do any day and how long some of those could take ever since she got a high horse and an assistant. But you also knew if you stood there pondering, you'd get yelled at again—the fact that Pryce had chosen to do that in front of others made your blood boil, but as much as you didn't appreciate being humiliated as "that aloof assistant" in front of anyone, you had things to do, lowly as they were.

Another push notification presented itself on your datapad, which you stopped in your tracks to look at.

From: Governor Pryce

On your desk I left a stack of binders for Congregation Room 2. Do not forget them.

You added that little detail to the list of things to keep track of.

With each pot of caf you filled, a tiny part in your brain wondered if anyone would notice if you spat in it. The thought amused you, but you also feared Pryce far too much to try any stunts like that. Something told you she'd notice you sabotaging a pot of caf even if she was on a different planet. You let your fantasies of getting away with mischief get you through that particularly unpleasant part of the morning and finally headed back to your desk for the binders from Pryce and then towards the congregation room, walking so fast you would run if you went any quicker. It was a miracle you didn't drop the binders in the middle of the hallway, and you were happy fate was apparently smiling at you that day to prevent any more embarrassment in front of Imperial high command.

When you arrived, you were pleased to see that the room wasn't a mess. The large table in the center was perfectly clean, with no traces of dust, and the chairs had already been pushed in and straightened out neatly. The room had that corporate smell to it that you both loved and hated, and it was so quiet that it was oddly peaceful. You liked the way the blueish-gray walls were embellished by the large paintings on the walls, one on each of the longer sides of the room. You wished you had more time to admire them both, one of the landscapes of Lotha, and the other one far more abstract with bright shades of orange, magenta, some yellow, and hints of gold on a cream-colored canvas.

You set a binder down on each spot of the table, and then you tested the light dimmers in the room. You then placed a bottle of water next to each binder, and finally, you brewed a pot of caf for the Congregation Room that you hoped would be your last, at least for that day. Still, you admitted you could use another cup of fully loaded black caf yourself.

For a while, the sound of the caf brewing was the only thing to fill your ears. You watched the rich, dark droplets falling into the pot and filling it, letting your mind get some sort of rest. You had the strange feeling that you'd been worked to the bone and yet you hadn't accomplished anything that day... that was a feeling you got very often in your job.

"Strange to see two very opposing art pieces put together in one room," a deep, male voice inundated your senses, rich and luxurious like the caf filling the pot in front of you.

Despite the voice's velvet qualities, you jumped up on the spot, startled, and you turned to face its source.

"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you," he said. He was a tall Chiss man in a white uniform, his profile frame facing you as he faced the painting of the landscape of Lothal's countryside. His posture was regal, with his hands placed behind his back, resting in lightly formed fists. "It would seem a more traditional choice to have paintings that are similar to one another, enough for them to complement but not cause any redundancy."

When he finished speaking, the man looked at you, his deep crimson gaze both gentle and penetrating on you.

"Would you agree?" He asked you.

You didn't have an idea of what to answer, and even if you did, you were stunned. You'd never crossed paths with someone like him before - his aura was intoxicating, and the fact that he had deemed you worthy of addressing spiraled in your mind. Any other imperial would have looked at you over the nose and deemed their time too important to waste on a mere assistant.

"I-I-" You paused to clear your throat, cursing your sudden inability to speak. "I have indeed seen that tendency in other places, just not here. Personally, I like the other painting a lot more."

Your mind began to race as you worried whether you were supposed to salute him or do anything, but it would depend on his rank. You figured standing up straight and not making a further fool out of yourself would suffice, but you looked over at the plaque over his chest just to be sure.

It wasn't a pattern or a rank you recognized. Had that man smitten you that hard?

He gave you the hint of a smile before turning around and looking at the other painting, the abstract piece, and he took his time to admire it. You wondered if perhaps you should offer him a cup of caf, ask him if he was there for the staff meeting, comment more on the painting... you had no clue.

But the silence was suffocating you, and you knew you wanted to hear more of his luscious voice. You looked at the plaque on his chest and took your best guess at his rank judging by the sequence of colors - you didn't get to be assistant to the Governor without memorizing imperial structure level well before.

"Admiral," you stammered minimally, "is there something I can help you with?"

Slowly, his frame turned towards you, his lips again curved ever so slightly. "It is Grand Admiral, actually."

You felt heat rushing to your cheeks - even your best guess based on your experience didn't save you from messing up in front of the greatest force of nature that facility had seen in a while.

"O-oh, I apogolize--er, apologize," you stuttered.

You wanted to scream, so you resorted to just doing it internally. It then dawned on you who this man really was based on his rank alone. The reason your morning had been so hectic was standing right there in front of you, watching you squirm. This was the man Governor Pryce would answer to from now on. Grand Admiral Thrawn. You straightened your back at the realization and bowed your head shortly before looking him in the eyes again, and much to your surprise, he seemed amused with you. Not in the high-and-mighty way, but rather, it was almost as if something about you was endearing.

"You may be at ease," Thrawn said. "I would like to hear your thoughts on this abstract piece. You said you prefer this over the other one."

You breathed in before speaking and hoped your language skills didn't fail you again, and you took just a couple of paces closer to him, allowing yourself to view the painting better.

"Well, I'm no expert," you warned.

"You do not have to be," Thrawn mused. "Appreciation of the arts can be enhanced by knowledge, but the true purpose of art is to produce sensations in the viewer. Any insight you may have to share is valuable."

You looked at the painting again and found it in yourself to relax. "I like the warmth of the colors. And their livelihood, too. It makes me think of freedom, and the gold flecks seem to speak about the beauty of that freedom, as well as the luxury of having it."

"This desire of freedom speaks to you?" He asked you.

You then realized you were talking about lacking freedom to an Imperial Grand Admiral, and you felt your already racing heart quicken.

"I'm grateful for my work and I have no complaints," you corrected despite your many complaints about your boss that morning, easing yourself back into what the painting produced within you. "It's just that... the bright pinks and oranges are hard not to notice in the middle of these gray walls... they can become confining after too many hours in them."

"Hm," Thrawn hummed. "I always prefer having a view myself. I share your sentiment."

You figured having a Grand Admiral's agreement on an art matter was the biggest compliment you'd get that day.

"Might I ask," you began, "what do you think of it?"

Thrawn side-eyed you, but the attitude with which he did it seemed pleased, as well as intrigued with you. He then looked at the painting again. "This color palette reminds me of a current I've been witnessing in none other but rebellious efforts. There is a certain diversity to it, as well as the clear nature of abstract art mirroring the rebellion itself. Your observations of the contrast of the color with the gray of our facilities and the need for freedom only confirm to me that I was not far off with my own initial interpretation."

You were dazed, and the need to speak more plunged into you like thorns.

"How interesting," you said with an airy voice. "For these sorts of emotions to be manifested to multiple people in a similar way."

"Yes," Thrawn said. "Though current context may have some influence on this... collective perception."

Before the conversation could advance, you heard the sound of Governor Pryce's voice approaching from down the hall, her words quick and frantic, clashing with your and Thrawn's aura like nails scratching smooth stone. Soon enough, Pryce appeared at the door of the room with a large number of Imperials behind her, and though she was relieved to find Thrawn there, you could tell she was displeased at the sight of you standing with him.

"Grand Admiral, please excuse the lack of hospitality," Pryce said as she glared at you.

"Not at all, Governor Pryce, I have been well-received," Thrawn said; you could have sworn you noticed him glance at you as he did.

Regardless of Thrawn trying to ease some of the weight off you, the last thing you wanted was to have Pryce suspect anything less than decent coming from you. But fortunately, you noticed Pryce scanning the room, hopefully noticing everything was set up exactly according to her instruction. And now that she had come to you, it wasn't necessary for you to go out and look for her like she'd told you earlier.

Pryce suppressed a scoff. "Yes, well, it appears this room has been prepared properly for your arrival." She then faced the rest of the Imperials behind her. "Please come in. My assistant will help accommodate you."

You understood the instruction and acknowledged Thrawn one last time before walking over to the doorway and directing multiple people towards their chairs around the table. Before Pryce took her own seat, she approached you and leaned in close to your shoulder - your mind raced with the question of whether she would congratulate or choke you.

"You are not to be left alone with the Grand Admiral again, do you understand?" She whispered, but the aggression of her tone was anything but inconspicuous.

"Yes ma'am," you acknowledged without trying to offer any explanation in return.

"Stay here at the back of the room," Pryce ordered. "Oblige to any request these officers may have. I don't want slip-ups."

"Yes, ma'am," you repeated.

"And this goes without saying, but none of what you are about to hear us discuss leaves this room," Pryce added. "This is of the highest confidentiality."

You nodded. "I understand, ma'am."

You knew Pryce was mad at finding you alone with Thrawn, but if she still kept you at that meeting, you had no reason to fear you'd be unemployed tomorrow. The meeting took hours, all through which you kindly obliged to whatever was needed from you.

And you felt crimson eyes on you all the while.

*

The morning after, bright and early, you arrived at your office and noticed a surprise on your desk. Pryce was nowhere to be seen, but on top of the stack of folders and datapads waiting for you to check on them, there was a bag over your desk with a delicate parchment on it that had your name written in ink. It looked large enough to hold a gown, and you remembered Pryce had mentioned something about you having an outfit for the welcoming gala you'd attend that night.

Pryce got me a dress? Employer review season must be coming up.

You pushed the jokes aside in your brain and decided to be more appreciative. Besides, it was far more likely Pryce would rather give you what she wanted you to wear before risking letting you make a poor fashion choice, thus surely rendering the welcoming gala a complete, unsaveable failure.

You took the parchment from the bag and noticed the other side of it had more writing on it.

Art deserves to be appreciated.

You felt your heart skip a beat and the oxygen leaving your head. That dress wasn't from Pryce, it was from Thrawn. It made you all the more motivated to unzip the dress bag and look at what was inside, and you felt your breath leaving your body when you saw the exquisite black fabric of the long gown. The outer layer of the dress was primarily lace, with sequins and beads very discreetly forming delicate flower forms every few inches. You knew it was high couture when your fingertips brushed the fabric, the quality evident under your touch—you tried not to think how much it cost.

Were you even supposed to accept a gift like that? You weren’t sure. It might not even fit, and even if it did, maybe you were expected to return it after the gala.

But who were you to refuse a request from a Grand Admiral? It’s not as if Pryce hadn’t told you to oblige to anything those Imperials the day before, and to your knowledge, that included Thrawn.

That day at work didn’t have you running up and down the facility like the day before, constantly required at Pryce’s side, beck, and call, but the workload didn’t stop. Between comms regarding structure changes, further details being given to the public, overseeing preparations for the gala and familiarizing yourself with the guestlist of the event, and the routine work you always did day to day for Pryce, you were hardly able to leave your desk.

But all that made the end of the day much sweeter, and when you were off your shift, you hurried home with the gown in hand. Quickly, you showered, dried your hair and styled it for the night, dolled yourself up with makeup and perfume, and at last, it was time for the dress. You were suddenly nervous about the dress not fitting, but when you tried it on, it slipped on you with ease and hugged your silhouette beautifully. The crop of the dress was perfect for your body type, and it accentuated your curves in all the right places.

Either Thrawn had someone investigate all your measurements to find the perfect fit, or he was able to eye you up and down and determine that for himself. Either way, your heart began to race. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting.

You grabbed a pair of shoes that went well with the dress and added some finishing touches to yourself, and you still had about an hour to spare before the time Pryce had asked you to be at the facility pre-event. You were out your door regardless. You figured, for an event like that, arriving sooner couldn’t hurt if only it meant having a bit more control over it.

As Pryce’s assistant, you’d been to the higher levels of the capitol a few times before for events of the sort, but you’d never seen the place decorated like it was now. The burgundy walls looked even more opulent with the warm golden lighting, and there were several tables laid out around a dance floor, each one decorated with similar burgundy, wine, and gold motifs with extravagant floral centerpieces and delicate glassware for each member that would occupy a spot in them. At the head of the dance floor there was an elongated table whose decoration matched that of the others, with exactly seven seats on it. Your chest fluttered when you glanced at the middle seat. Your day of overseeing preparations for the event had made you all too familiar with who would be occupying that spot.

You still had a job to do. You made sure the logistics team was spot on with last-minute arrangements, verifying there was enough food and wine for everyone who would be there. You went to confirm that every sound, music, and holo-projection worked properly and no one would be embarrassed on behalf of technical difficulties. Because of you, everything was spot-on well before any guests started arriving.

Timely as always, the first one to do so was Pryce. She donned an elegant gown, but as elegant as she looked, she still had that authoritarian air to her, rather than the aura of someone who went to enjoy herself. And she looked around the room not turning up her nose at anything; it seemed she was satisfied with your work for the time being. She walked up to you, and although you’d done a good job, you knew not to expect congratulations from her.

“Perform routine checks every fifteen minutes,” she instructed. “Light, sound, refreshments, staff—we need full stock at all times.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied.

It was only then that Pryce stopped and looked at you up and down.

“Where did you get a gown like that?” She questioned. “You look like a guest.” “It just happened to be lying around,” you answered. No way were you about to tell her it was a gift from Thrawn.

“Yes, well, good on you for matching the event’s elegance,” Pryce said. “I shall leave you to your duties. I need to receive the guests at the door, but you’ll need to take them to their places.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear Pryce had just complimented you in some way. Regardless, you obliged to her orders and powered up your datapad to view the seating charts, and soon enough, everyone began to arrive. You were grateful you’d chosen a comfortable pair of shoes for the night, otherwise your feet would have already been killing you from walking up and down the room taking everyone to their places. You were unaware of how much time had gone past, but it seemed like you’d successfully gotten almost everyone to their chairs. The next time you were at the entrance to receive your next guest, you glanced down at your datapad to get a clearer vision of how many seats were still empty.

You then looked up to find crimson eyes staring at you, and you were unable to control the smile that curved your lips. In turn, Thrawn’s gaze traced your entire silhouette, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume didn’t escape him. His faint smile held triumph; he was always pleased when his plans worked out according to his machination.

“May I lead you towards your seat?” You asked him.

He nodded and, to your surprise, Thrawn held out his arm bent at a right angle and offered it to you. You raised your eyebrows and looked at him, puzzled.

“A lady must never cross a ballroom such as this unescorted,” he said to you.

If you hadn’t been working that night, you already would have given out.

You obliged to Thrawn’s offer and linked your arm in his as you led him towards the long table at the top of the dance floor. It was hard to ignore the looks you were getting, and you were privy to the confusion in the eyes of many of the people who were looking your way, no doubt questioning themselves why such a lovely lady at the arm of the Grand Admiral was also clearly an employee. You were certain that if they hadn’t already seen you leading them to their spots with a datapad in your hands, you would have been mistaken for Thrawn’s plus one.

You reached the table and gestured at the middle seat, where Thrawn sat in all his regality. With a final nod of acknowledgement, you smiled at him and made your way back towards the entrance, aware of the fact that you swayed your hips slightly more than usual as you walked away.

Hours wore on. Your management of the event was spotless, and everything was on schedule. The food during dinner was warm, and no one was left waiting obscenely long for a refill of their drink. Speeches were made by the staff, including Pryce and Thrawn himself, talking not only about the supremacy of the Empire but also the great plans they had in mind for Lothal—but you’d already heard enough of that during the meeting the day before.

After dinner and all the formalities, the gathering turned more festive and people took to the dance floor to sway to the elegant string music. From that point on, the night also relaxed for you and the rest of the staff, as everyone was mostly just minding their own business. You stood at the corner of the room watching as everyone danced, and you couldn’t help but search for Thrawn with your gaze. A part of you hoped not to find him dancing with another lucky woman, but you shook the thought away. He wasn’t on the dance floor anyway.

In fact, you couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Pryce rushed to you, seemingly concerned.

“You need to get General Perkins some water, now,” she said.

You nodded and pulled your datapad out. “Getting a waiter on it now—”

“No,” Pryce interrupted. “No, the man is drunk out of his mind. I fear what he’ll do if he’s confronted by a waiter. You at least look the part of a partygoer.”

“O-okay,” you obliged.

“Hurry,” Pryce growled before walking off.

You partly understood the urgency; you didn’t want a drunk imperial on your hands either. You hurried over to the bar and filled two glasses with water and carried both on a tray with your data pad on the other hand. You tried to make your way around the dance floor, but everyone was gathered around the tables at the edges, and from afar, you noticed General Perkins already beginning to swoon in his seat, his eyes threatening to close as he laughed absently.

Yeah, no wonder Pryce had told you to hurry. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded anyway—you figured you had better chances going through it.

You came to regret your decision when, halfway across the dancefloor, another less than graceful Imperial general crashed into you. You managed to keep your balance and not fall, but your datapad was knocked out of your hand and slammed to the floor loudly. The water from both of the glasses splashed all over you, and the glasses shattered on the floor scandalously followed by the clanking of the silver tray after them.

Everyone around you took several steps back, leaving you exposed. The general who’d crashed into you disappeared without acknowledging you, and you were the sole center of embarrassment, feeling as the blood rushed to your face. You wanted to hide, but multiple pairs of eyes pierced into you, judging you, whispering amongst themselves words you didn’t even want to speculate.

Pryce rushed towards you and glanced at the scene before glaring straight into your soul.

“You’re fired,” she spat, and as she left, she gestured at two nearby waiters to clean up the mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you processed what had just happened, and just as you were about to run away from the scene, you felt your hand being taken and an arm gripping swiftly at your waist. You gasped when Thrawn came into your view in front of you, holding you up despite what had just happened, and you could almost feel everyone’s soul leaving their body. Before Thrawn met your gaze, he looked over at the band and with a single nod instructed them to begin playing. When the music resumed, Thrawn’s gaze finally met yours, and he led you across the dance floor, spinning you and waltzing with you, becoming one with the music.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes on him were dreamy. “Why are you doing this?”

He smiled at you, purposefully spinning the two of you more elaborately. “Dance, my darling. Dance.”

Exhaling all the tension in your chest, you smiled up at Thrawn and let him dance you away.

Around you, couples began to swarm to the dance floor once more minding the waiters cleaning up the shattered glass. In the second plane, you could hear the drunken general already making a mess, but that wasn’t your problem anymore now that Pryce had fired you. You simply let Thrawn lead the way, and when you weren’t dancing with him, you were at his side with your arm in his, holding a glass of champagne in your free hand that you never would have gotten as an assistant, and you actually found it in yourself to enjoy the evening.

When it was late, Thrawn led you outside to the courtyard. You both stopped and looked each other in the eyes—he towered over you, and you loved that. You smiled softly at him, eyes seemingly sparkling in the dark.

“Thank you for what you did back there,” you said.

Thrawn’s faint smile widened almost imperceptibly. “My pleasure.”

You looked down, blushing. “Thank you for the gown, too.”

Thrawn gave a low chuckle. “You look exquisite in it.”

A thought formed in the back of your mind at what he’d just said, and suddenly you found blood rushing between your legs at the idea of you being outside of the beautiful gown.

“Shall I take you home?” He asked you.

Your heart sank, but just as you were about to accept, you noticed Thrawn moving himself closer to you, his hand moving up to your cheek to gently brush your skin.

“Or perhaps… you would like to accompany me?” Thrawn suggested.

You knew you could say no, but every fiber of your body wanted to follow him wherever he could take you. Slowly, you nodded, desire already flooding your gaze, and the transition from the courtyard to his private quarters went by in a blur. You felt slightly out of touch when you stood in the opulent living room, unsure of what to do—you’d never done anything of the sort before. The place was absolutely beautiful, though, with a regal blue and silver color palette and a large window overlooking the entire Lothal skyline. The furniture inside was of the highest grade, and there were multiple paintings, crafts, and sculptures decorating the place. Not even in your wildest dreams did you picture yourself standing in a place like that, but regardless, there you were.

Thrawn gestured at the couch in front of an automatic fireplace that ignited when you sat, and he disappeared for a few moments only to return with two glasses of wine. He sat next to you, handing you your glass, setting his cup on the caf table as you took a sip from your cup. That was the best wine you’d ever tasted.

After a few moments in silence, Thrawn took your cup and placed it on the table next to his. His hands went up to cup your face where his fingertips could gently brush the hair growing out of the nape of your neck, and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You sighed into his touch and let him in. your hands brushed up his arms and past his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his upper back. Part of you expected him to push forward and take you there on that couch, but you felt Thrawn standing and pulling you along with him, pausing his kiss to lead you across the room towards his chamber. The bedroom’s opulent aesthetic matched that of the living room, and when you both entered, you noticed Thrawn pressing a control on the walls that lowered a solid gray curtain over the large window and dimmed the lights.

It was then that your gaze fell on the large bed at the center of the room, causing you to whimper softly in anticipation. You heard Thrawn chuckle softly behind you as he approached you with his fingertips softly tracing up the sides of your arms, landing at your shoulders. He swept your hair away from your neck and you felt his breath fanning over your skin, flooding you with shivers in the best way possible.

“You are gorgeous,” Thrawn whispered before kissing you just below your ear. He trailed his kisses down towards your collarbone, stopping where the fabric of your gown began only to make his way back up. You sighed in pleasure as you relished in every tingling sensation left by his lips, and before long, you felt Thrawn’s fingers beginning to undo the zipper at the side of your gown.

You felt the fabric of your dress becoming loose on your body, and as Thrawn continued to lavish your skin, he carefully slipped the dress down your curves. Your body was now exposed, with the only item of fabric left on you being a delicate pair of panties. You turned around on the spot and faced him, watching as his eyes brushed through every inch of your body with hunger. His hands were now on your waist pulling you closer to him again, and he kissed your lips with a brighter fire than before. Your hands snaked up his chest and landed behind his neck, your fingertips playing with his skin just above the rim of his neckline. Thrawn looked handsome in his white uniform, but you wanted him to be naked too.

You wondered if he could read your mind, because as you continued to kiss, Thrawn undid the buttons of his blazer and he cast it aside, proceeding to remove the shirt that covered his skin. With a light moan, you let your hands roam free towards his trousers and undid the belt, button, and zipper, and soon enough, he’d lost all the clothing on his body. You felt his fingertips curling around your panties, spreading the fabric enough to pull it down and let it fall at your feet. His hands explored your curves before he led you towards the bed, letting you lie on your back and taking his place beside you, his broad frame hovering over you.

He kissed your lips again, and you sank into the mattress below as you felt your body shiver with his touch. Thrawn’s fingertips had found your inner thighs, tracing ever so softly and igniting your senses, prompting you to spread your legs nice and slow as he continued to tease the sensitive skin leading up between your legs. You felt your pulse come alive in your clit, aching for his touch, hoping he wouldn’t keep you waiting for so long. Thrawn had been such a gentleman ever since you’d met… surely he wouldn’t let you down when he’d already been doing so well.

Thrawn’s lips curved into a seductive smile, and finally, he traced a sole fingertip from your entrance and up your cunt, dragging the wetness over your sensitive flesh. You couldn’t help the ecstatic moan that left you, and Thrawn wasted no more time. With precision, he began to rub circles around your clit slowly, letting you feel everything. As your breath deepened, your body started squirming under him, a sight he welcomed with lust. His lips were on yours again, and you kissed him hungrily. Your pants became shorter with every moment that passed, already nearing your release.

But as much as Thrawn wanted you, he wouldn’t be impatient. He would take his time, do it right, the way he approached everything else. His fingers gave your clit a rest, making you whimper in the absence of his touch. Thrawn emerged from your lips and looked into your eyes as he took his fingers down and placed them at your entrance, sliding one slender, long finger inside you and curling it, pressing your sweetest spot. Pleasure instantly flooded your senses, and you felt as if you’d just had a secret revealed to you of the magnitude of the universe itself.

No one had ever made you feel that way.

You grind your hips against his hand, aching for more friction, and Thrawn obliged. The pace with which he fingered you increased just slightly, applying more pressure to set your mind ablaze, and the rest of his hand pressed slightly on your clit, giving you some very welcome sensations on the pearl of nerves. Your tiny whimpers escalated in pitch and in frequency the closer you got, with your hands gripping his hair behind his head, until soon you felt yourself tightening around his finger and your body quivering. Your whimpers became uncontrollable moans, each filled with burning ecstasy. Your head pressed back onto the pillow, and as your body shook, you felt your wetness dripping out between your legs as you rode out your orgasm, never wanting it to stop.

Before you were overstimulated, Thrawn retrieved his hand and pulled you towards him. Now he was lying on his back and you were sitting on the bed, panting to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, prompting you to get on top of him, and you stopped only momentarily to gasp at his erection, long and hard and ready for you. You placed your hands firmly on his muscular chest, steadying yourself, and you opened your legs and shimmied down until you felt his tip at your entrance.

A short moan escaped Thrawn when you slid yourself down on him. You were slow, taking in every moment you could as he stretched you out inside, painful and beautiful all at once. His length was fully inside you, and with a firm grip on your hips, Thrawn thrust up and down, beginning at a slow, luxurious pace. You threw your head back, moaning, then looked down to bask in the sight of his muscular build clenching and relaxing with his movements. You bent over and let your lips kiss whatever spot of Thrawn’s skin was in reach, and the new position gave you a mind-blowing angle for his length to lavish your inner walls, brushing past the spots he’d already left so sensitive from your previous orgasm. Thrawn’s pace quickened, nuzzling your face so that your lips could find his, and locked in a kiss, you continued basking in the bliss.

His hands then firmly grasped your ass and he turned you over on the bed, now on top of you. While Thrawn’s pace had initially been that of a gentleman, slow and at your service, you could tell he’d decided to let go of any bars holding him. His hips hammered into you faster, his teeth baring in a hungry grimace as a single low growl escaped him, and in return, you whimpered delicately as you let him have his way with you. Thrawn was moving faster than you ever could have thought possible for any man, but even that thought would be erased from your mind when you saw white. Your long, ecstatic moans filled the entirety of his quarters when your walls clenched around his girth and your body quaked underneath him, with his name and his rank escaping you loosely before those words became nothing but helpless little whines.

As Thrawn felt himself approaching his release, he lowered himself down on you to kiss your lips. You whimpered into him just as your second orgasm had died down, escalating obscenely quickly into a third one, the sensations peaking when your orgasm blended with his and you felt him release inside you before he relaxed his body on top of you.

After such an endeavor, you had no headspace left for anything but lying there beside him. You heard Thrawn whisper a few words to you, but you couldn’t make sense of any of what he said. The last thing you could register as you curled up on your side was the feeling of a blanket being draped over you and a pair of lips softly pressing a kiss to your forehead, and after that, you were done for the night.

Your sleep was dreamless, and when you woke up the morning after, you didn’t see Thrawn beside you. As you sat up, you felt a beautiful lingering soreness between your legs, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you remembered the events of the previous night, not just your time alone with Thrawn, but everything that led up to it. The curtain had been lifted from the window, and you saw outside that the sun was well up in the sky, and yet, you didn’t have a worry in the world.

You got out of the bed with the blanket wrapped around your body, and on the nightstand, you noticed a tray with a piece of bread, a glass of juice, and a tiny vase with a single red rose on it. You grinned brightly and felt your cheeks getting hot, and you reached for the little parchment that rested beside the plate of bread, smiling as you read the fine calligraphy.

Have a beautiful day. See you tonight.

You lay on the bed again, smiling with a dreamy sigh and holding the parchment in your hand as you let your mind wonder what you’d do with your newfound time and freedom until the night came and you could see your lover again.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging to support me ❤️

Back to my masterlist

[strigeart]

[artanis-draws]

AU where there is a big bounty on Rebel-Luke and Din is going after him but doesn’t expect such a beauty 🤭😁 what a surprise 💅🏼

[captn-trex]

fall of an empire

Rex [no pairing]

word count: 1.4k

description: Rex never knew what truly became of his General, but when he finds out as the Empire are driven from power, his galaxy becomes a little bit smaller.

warnings/tags: angst basically, mainly just Rex's internal monologue

a/n: okay. I’ve had this idea for ages and basically held off because I didn't think I'd do it justice (idk that I have), but I guess I just bit the bullet lol. This is really more of a little think piece ? than anything. aaah i get nervy talking about Anakin because I know people have strong opinions about him (me included) so I hope this doesn't tread on any toes lol. For the sake of this, Rex and Luke are kinda familiar with each other

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23 years.

It had been 23 years, almost to the day.

Rex had made his peace with it a long time ago, he had accepted the death of his General, he had done his grieving. He had grieved his friend, the Jedi, the Republic; in many ways, he had grieved himself. Yet here he was, with his General, a Jedi, and the promise of a new Republic to rise and take the place of the Empire.

There was an undeniable sense of accomplishment in the air, a thick blanket of hard-won peace that settled over the rebels and lifted their spirits. Everyone was more at peace than they had been, maybe ever. Rex felt it too, he had been fighting the Empire too long to not recognise the significance of the day's events. Though now, the feeling was bittersweet, overtaken by a melancholy that Rex was sure might never leave him, at least not in the life he still had left in him.

Stood in front of the pyre, watching the fire climb higher and higher and reaching up into the night sky, Rex couldn’t help but feel conflicted. The man that was laid out before him, body engulfed in flames, was both someone he had once known, and someone he hoped he would never meet. Now faced with the truth of who he was, both sentiments still rang true.

He was disturbed at worst, confused at best, more by his own state of mind than the turn of events. He had held such contempt for the creature that enacted the Emperor's will, but he had such love and respect for his General, even long after his assumed death. It left him in a strange place, where the recent triumph no longer felt so triumphant.

It was simply unfathomable that they were the same person, that his friend had fallen so far, turned towards such evil. When he had been told that his General had not only survived the Jedi purge, but enacted it, and gone on to rule at the side of the Emperor, his first instinct had been to deny it. It was out of the question.

He tried to cast his mind back to the war, to find threads of that evil sewn into the memories that he held close to his chest, but he couldn't find it. While the war was certainly not all sunshine and rainbows, it wasn’t so unendingly awful that he would have missed the lick of icy dread that ran through his veins when in close quarters to dark side users. Without even considering that, it seemed out of the question.

General Skywalker was caring, if not a little absurd in his approach to battle, and despite how it could drive him to distraction, Rex wouldn't have changed anything about him. He knew him to be a man of simple ingenuity and fierce courage, and occasionally foolish bravado, but that was nothing like the animal that had come to spread fear and terror across the galaxy.

Rex watched the dying flames, flickers of memories contained in the way they danced with the wind whipping at them. His hands clenched into fists, not in anger, but because he felt the need to ground himself in this moment. He needed to focus on what was real, what he knew to he true, and put unfulfilled notions of futures that could have been behind him. What was done was done. It couldn't be undone, and that was something he would have to come to understand.

Rex had always felt the need for justice, that people should be dealt back what they put into the galaxy, and the finality of watching Vader's body burn in front of him seemed like an obstruction of that. In spite of that, he mourned the man beneath the suit. He would take back every evil thing he did to the galaxy, but selfishly he'd take it back just to spend one more day with his friend, with the man he was before he became twisted by darkness.

The pyre had burned almost fully, leaving smouldering wood and ashes spread around the base. It was a fitting end, perhaps. The Empire had been reduced to ashes, and Vader with it. The memory of their atrocities lingered in the air, like the smoke clinging to his clothes and anything else it could reach.

A hand on Rex's shoulder drew him from the deep pit of his thoughts, and he turned to look into the eyes of the Jedi. They were his eyes, undeniably. Deep blue and shining with wisdom, hope and confidence. Rex had never believed they were qualities that could be passed down by way of genes, but with those eyes watching him carefully, he couldn't see anything else.

“I hope you can find some peace, friend” he spoke with a startling sincerity, a small noble bow of his head accompanying his words.

Rex managed a ‘thank you’ before the young Skywalker patted his shoulder, walking away from the smouldering pile of wood and leaving him alone.

That's how he felt; alone.

Everything he had ever known in his life had been lost to the Empire. His brothers, the Republic, the Jedi, and now he had come to know the truth that his General had been seduced and corrupted by the dark side. It was alienating. He'd always just tried to take everything in stride and hold his head high as he moved on, but the sheer weight of everything that had happened to him throughout his life was crushing.

His days as a cadet, the early days of the war, the immediate aftermath of order 66, fighting to free his brothers from Imperial imprisonment; it was all so tinged by something sinister, immoral. The clones were created for war, so it wasn't a surprise that he didn't know anything else, but a life lead just to die wasn't one that he wanted to live anymore.

Rex realised then that his life had always belonged to Skywalker in some way. First, as his commanding officer, then as a tyrant of the Empire, the reigning power that forced clones into subservience. Though now, he was free of him completely. He was a free man, no question about it, and it was refreshing to acknowledge.

He had never felt like a prisoner under Skywalker's leadership, even looking back after he had come to understand that the clones were essentially slaves to the Republic. Anakin could have ordered him to do anything, and he would have. Rex recognised that was an immense power to have over someone, but even if he could be headstrong sometimes, his general would never have ordered him to do anything outrageous.

Perhaps that's what was the most confusing about having watched his mutated form burn before him. Skywalker was generous, but all he had known of Vader was how much he took from people; their lives, their children. It scared him, but it also proved to him how truly evil the Emperor must have been to be able to twist someone so caring into a monster like that.

He was then overwhelmed by sympathy. Vaders actions were inexcusable, and Rex didn't know that he'd ever fully come to accept the truth of who he was, but he knew that whatever Anakin had gone through to end up so twisted and removed from himself, was most likely more abhorrent than he could imagine.

For that reason, putting him to rest like this felt cathartic, and despite the shock of his true identity, it felt like closure. Really, he was putting two grievances to bed. His General was finally at peace, and the creature that had wreaked havoc on the galaxy could do so no longer.

Rex breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the cool night air as he looked to the sky. He was free. His life was his own, no longer at the mercy of Skywalker, Vader, the Empire or anyone else. He was still conflicted, and it would probably take him another lifetime to fully process everything, but looking into the ashes that once made up the form of his friend and oppressor, he could already feel a heavy weight lifting from his shoulders.

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak

[spectre-week]

Join us for Spectre Week!

This is a fanwork event week celebrating the Ghost Crew from Star Wars Rebels, AKA the Spectres.

May 25-31, 2024.

No prompts! Just a theme: Tales of the Spectres.

Alllll the backstories! Inspired by the Star Wars animated Tales… series, our theme will focus on the Spectres’ lives before they became a crew, a team, and, in some ways, a family.

Each day of the event will feature works about the day’s Spectre:

Day One-Spectre One (Kanan)

Day Two-Spectre Two (Hera)

Day Three-Spectre Three (Chopper)

Day Four-Spectre Four (Zeb)

Day Five-Spectre Five (Sabine)

Day Six-Spectre Six (Ezra)

Day Seven-Free

The only limitations for fanworks are these:

Character: Feature one character per day, on the appropriate day.

Timeframe: Tell any part of their backstory that you want, from birth until just before Spark of Rebellion.

NSFW: This event is open to NSFW content, but please tag it as such and place it under a cut as needed.

Other than that, the rest is up to you! We’ll send out more info soon, but we hope that’s enough to get you started. If you have any questions, Just Ask!

Please reblog to spread the news!

[never-ending-fanfic]

More of my sweet little baby✨

Warning: she's too cute

Tala in a variety of fits I couldn't resist but put her in

Explanation of the fits under the cut, from the top, left to right

Tala at the beach in the cutest cherry swimsuit, grumpy at the sand castle having the audacity to collapse

the blue dress is her outfit as a flower girl at Hera and Kanan's wedding (and he's alive and well and def not dead in this AU, she's also gonna be the best older cousin to Jacen)

the green overalls were embriodered by Sabine and given to Tala as a birthday gift at some point and she just loves them so much she could wear them everyday (and sometimes refuses and pouts when Kallus suggests something else)

Tala in Kallus' rebel captain jacket, cause it's so wholesome when kids try on their parents clothes adbsgxgsjbx

Tala after spending a day with auntie Sabine, they spent their time painting and making jewelry (Kallus was horrified at the hair and ready to strangle Sabine before she assured him it'll wash off)

Tala in a dress that just screams "fr my mom put me in this when I was a baby" vibe to me personally

The last one is my favourite, she's so freaking cute in the yellow dress, I just cannot believe how sweet she looks

[laurelslegacy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios Characters: Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Ezra Bridger, Hera Syndulla Additional Tags: Comfort Food, Comfort No Hurt, Ezra taking care of Zeb, based off of my nephew taking care of me when I was sick, Ghost family, Family Fluff, Family Dynamics, Families of Choice, No Beta We Die Like Clones, dont like dont read, Triggers, yeah I'll take nasty comments and make fun of it on redit Summary:

every so often, Ezra still surprises Zeb... and Zeb, Ezra. What had the Lasat looking near tears? it's JUST soup!

[vodika-vibes]

Happy 500!

I would request a sapphire with Rex in autumn, a season of change, Rebels Era time frame.

Thank you!

Forever Is A Long Time

Summary: Years after the end of the Clone Wars, you and Rex have managed to make a life for yourselves on your grandparent's old farm. Autumn always brings its own challenges, but that’s not always a bad thing.

Pairing: Rebels!Rex x Former Jedi GN! Reader

Word Count: 934

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. You have been warned.

Prompt: Sapphire - Wise Love

A/N: Full honesty, I've never seen Rebels, so I decided to play around with everything. I hope you like it!

You think you love autumn.

You love how the world bursts into a wild array of colors, how the miserable summer heat settles into something tolerable, and how everything is pumpkin or apple-flavored.

Lazily, you stretch your arms over your head, able to feel Rex’s shirt creep up your thighs as you reach up, though it falls back into place as your arms fall back to your side. 

Speaking of Rex, where is he?

You turn your head away from the window that looks out at the orchard, to focus your attention deeper into your home. He hasn’t gone outside yet, though you know that he plans to work on his speeder today. Your handsome Captain seems to think that having a working speeder will make the harvest easier.

And he’s right, it will.

But you’re not going to tell him that.

“Rex?”

“Back here, mesh’la!” He calls from the back of the house.

Curiously, you push away from the kitchen counter and follow his voice through the halls until you reach the back hallway which leads to the mudroom. 

“What are you doing?” You ask as you settle on the bench that was built into the wall, your head tilting to the side as you try to figure out what, exactly, he’s working on.

He glances at you, a grin on his face, “What? You can’t tell?”

You scrunch up your nose at him, and then glance at his project. It’s some kind of electronic device, based on what you can see. But what you don’t know about computers and mechanics could probably fill several archives. “I give up.”

“You didn’t even make a guess, cyare.” His voice is dancing with amusement, and you make a face at him.

“Oh, I dunno…Is it a comm?”

“Close, but no.” Rex focuses on it for a moment longer, snapping a few pieces together, “It’s the old radio that your brother gave you.”

“The radio he broke in a fit of temper? That radio?”

“The very same.”

“Huh.” You move off the bench so you’re able to lean on Rex’s shoulder to peer at his project, “Why are you fixing it?”

“Because it was broken,” He replies simply.

You nudge him gently, “Come on, Rex. It’s been broken for years.”

He glances at you and then sets his tools on the ground so he’s able to tug you onto his lap. You release a startled noise as he settles you comfortably on his lap and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

His dark eyes scan your face, and you aren’t able to stifle your soft giggle as you reach up and press your hands against his cheeks, your fingers gently brushing his beard.

Rex’s eyes crinkle with the strength of his smile, and his arms tighten around you, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” You reply, grinning widely. 

He tugs you into a gentle kiss that turns into several gentle kisses, pulling even more delighted laughter from you. When he kisses you like this, you feel like you’re back at the start of your relationship, all those years ago. When he was a Clone Captain, and you were an Archivist at the Jedi Temple.

“I saw you looking at the radio the other day,” Rex says lightly, “So I decided to fix it.”

“You did?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “What? You think after all these years I can’t tell what you’re thinking?” Rex teases lightly.

“Of course you do,” You murmur in turn. “I was considering throwing it away, though.”

“Well, now there’s no need.”

“Rex,” His name is a laugh, “We have so much stuff.”

“Well, seeing as neither of us had any stuff when we were younger, I think we have just enough.” He adjusts you on his lap and focuses his attention on the radio again, snapping a few more pieces back together, before putting the whole radio together and standing it up.

And then he flips the power switch, and soft music fills the hallway.

Familiar music.

You recognize the tune immediately, it's the song that was playing the day that Rex confessed to you. The song that was playing when he proposed. The song that you danced your first dance to.

“Well now,” Rex grins at you, “Seems like fate.” Gently he nudges you to your feet and then stands up to tug you into his arms. “May I have this dance?”

You beam at him, “You can have all of them.”

He spins you in the narrow hallway, before pulling you flush against him. His expression is soft and warm and for you and you alone. 

“Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs as the pair of you sway to the soft music, “Is this what you expected from life?”

“No, I didn’t.” You snake your arms around his neck, “But this is so much better than I expected.”

“That right?”

“I’ll spend forever in your arms,” You whisper to him.

Rex chuckles, “Forever is a long time, cyare.”

“And I’ll happily spend every minute of it with you.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, “You spoil this old clone.”

“Well, someone has to.” You reply against his lips.

His grip tightens around your hips, “Do we have plans for today, cyar’ika?”

“Nothing that can’t be put off for a couple of hours.”

“Good.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing, and then carries you into your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him as your giggles fill the home you built with Rex.

Forever might be a long time, but in your opinion, it’s not nearly long enough.

@bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

[webtrinsic1122]

Can we all agree Hera Syndulla is gorgeous and probably the luckiest girl in the galaxy and she damn well knows it.

This beautiful Twi’lek legit had a man, a Jedi, the love of her fucking life, tell her the worst thing in the galaxy about being blinded is that he could no longer see her face.

Legit if that ever happened to me- I’d never be insecure or anything ever again. I’d damn well grow a god complex and I legit thought I already had one.

[lena-hills]

Quick sketch fanart for the absolutely adorable fic "To Our Mom" by @chaoticdumbassrogue (G rated) - the whole fic is delightful but I couldn't stop thinking about Chopper painting a family portrait! Love them <3

[illuminatedquill]

Jedi Bridger. A word, if I may.

Yes, Countess?

I must request that you never ask anything of my daughter. You must never make her promise something to you.

What do you mean?

Please, just give me your word. Swear to me on something that matters.

. . . Okay, I swear on my oath as a Jedi.

Thank you.

Can I ask why?

Because she will keep her promise.

She’s a Mandalorian. Of course she will.

No, Jedi Bridger. Because it’s you.

- Final conversation between Ursa Wren and Ezra Bridger