#the podracing game really brought me back

[whotaku-starr]

My kid has started a Nintendo games phase so I told them to dig out all the old consoles and games at my parents house and they brought back an entire box of goodies.

Here's a few gems

But the most sacred of relics they brought me was this !!!!!!

[book-of-baba-fett]

A Lucky Hand - Fives x Fem!Reader

Crossposted on A03

Fives finds himself running low on credits during a game of pazaak with his favorite mechanic, but a risky wager on his end might end up benefitting both of you.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Oral Sex (f/m receiving). Drinking, PiV intercourse, (let me know if I miss anything!)

***

“And I win another round! Come on Fives, at this rate you should just hand me all your credits,” You tease at the clone sitting across the table from you. Your smirk is met with a scowl that doesn’t reach his sparkling amber eyes. The 501st is on leave on Coruscant, and they're one of your favorite clone battalions. You work as a mechanic at the military base where their barracks are, and once the war started up you got to know a bunch of the troops as they came through to ask for your help on any equipment they damaged on their last deployment. This is how you got to know Fives particularly well; if something could break, Fives would find the way to do it.

After he had annoyed you enough times by breaking the gear you had just fixed for him, he started to repay you by inviting you to hang out in parts of the base that were off limits to most of the civilian workforce, like the break room you were in this night. A few troopers were scattered around; most had early shifts on the base tomorrow so they couldn’t spend their free time at 79s that particular night. This meant they were entertaining themselves more tamely than usual but for many of the troopers this meant drinking ale and gambling on games or podraces they were watching on the holo, or in Fives and your case Pazaak.

Fives begrudgingly slides you the credits on the table and starts to deal out the next round. He was not a man who took defeat easily. Since his shifts for the day were over, he was only armored from the waist down and has his blacks on top. You’ve been drinking some ale during the night and you couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric clung to his body, particularly his broad chest and hard biceps.

Woah watch it there, you work around a million guys who look the same as him. Once you let those thoughts in there’s no going back. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him even without the alcoholic influence. Fives drove you crazy half the time, but he was just so damn hot you let it slide.

“You do have a point,” Fives suddenly spoke up and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. Once you notice he’s looking through his utility belt, you realize he’s answering your previous statement. “You’ve cleaned me out, I don’t have any more to bet tonight. That is…unless you’re not opposed to wagering something a little more interesting?”

You take a sip of your ale, draining the bottle. “And what do you propose?”

Fives looked around the room, making sure none of his brothers were paying too close attention to the two of you. Luckily, they were all focused on their own entertainment. His face broke into a grin as he looked into your eyes and leaned in closer to you.

“If I win this round, you give me a handjob,” he whispered into your ear.

You huff out a laugh to act nonchalant, but the truth is you feel a flutter in your stomach and a flush to your cheek by the suggestion. Everything between you too had just been friendly before, and while Fives had gotten flirty occasionally you never thought he was serious. He was Fives, that’s what he was like with everyone.

“Well, that is an interesting suggestion. What do I get if I win then?” you reply, trying to sound as transactive as possible; like this was some normal deal with a trader.

“If your hand wins, I’ll finish all the reports and paperwork you need to do for any 501st related repairs while we’re on this leave.” Ok, this got you excited but not in the core warming way his previous suggestion did; that would be a big relief on your workload. And hey, his hand has been terrible all night, luck seems to be in your favor.

“All right, you’re on.” You smirk and he flashes that devilish grin at you.

You win the first round easily; Fives was being very conservative with his hand and didn’t seem to want to play too many cards. He either has nothing in his deck, or he’s really holding out for something big.

The second round lasts a few minutes longer, but you overdraw your cards and Fives wins which meant the match was tied before the 3rd and final round. Fives teasingly stretches his arms over his head, making you roll your eyes at him.

The third round goes on the longest; you had used up most of your set deck already so you were being careful to not overdraw again, but you play your last card. You didn’t reach the 20 total needed to win, but being at 19 you felt confident in your choice. Fives drew another card from the deck, that pushes his total to 22. If you finished the round with a number over 20, that meant you lost so you begin to shift back in your seat and put your feet up on the table.

“Sorry, Fives, better luck ne-,” you start but he cuts you off, wagging a finger in your direction. He places his last card on the table: a -2. Making his total 20, and him the winner. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief as the clone copied your victorious pose – stretching back with his arms behind his head and his feet coming to rest on the table as those amber eyes locked with yours.

***

“OK Listen, I was being a little shit. I had a terrible hand; I didn’t think I would actually win. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You brought Fives back to your workshop in the base – the best place you could think of for some privacy. It was late so all the other mechanics should have left already. It was small, but there was enough space for a worktable and the small bench that you and Fives are sitting at. His voice was soft; you knew he could be a bit of an ass, but you knew he was being honest and the last thing he would want to do was make you uncomfortable.

“Nope, I don’t back out of a deal.” You smirk at him and his edge seemed to come back once he accepted that you were ok with this. Your hand rests on his armored thigh and slowly makes its way up to his codpiece. “Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious about what you’ve got going on under all the armor.”

A devilish grin grows on his face as his own hand meets yours. He fiddles with the straps on his codpiece and pulls It away, revealing an already sizeable bulge in his blacks. He pulls your hand onto him and holds it there. You feel your core flutter as he hardens in your hand.

“Well, I’m more than happy to show off for you, baby,” His voice is lower and has a raspy edge to it. You push his hand aside and slowly undo his pants, releasing his cock. You slowly grasp your hand around the base of him, and you can’t help but lick your lips looking at it. His tan cock is thick and long, and already swollen at your light touch. His breath is low at your touch, he places a hand on your shoulder, wordlessly begging you to move.

You take your hand away for a second to lick it and you firmly hold him again. You slowly began to stroke up and down, feeling his velvety soft skin in your hand. You flick your thumb over his head, smearing a bit of the precum that was already leaking from it. You can’t help but want to taste him. You increase your pace and Fives’s grip on your shoulder tightens, his breath increasing. You look at his face, he smiles back at you, his pupils blown out and filled with lust.

“I had a hunch you would be good with your hands.” He breathed out, trying to hold onto his composure. You wanted to wreck that pretty face. As you continue working his cock up and down in your hand, he sighs out and bends his head backward, hitting the wall. You take this pause in attention to bend your head down and start licking the head of his cock.

“Fuck!” he cursed out, sighing your name. You slowly move off the bench to kneel in front of him. You continue to jerk him and lick a long strip up the underside of his cock. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Oh well, if you’re not happy with it I can always stop,” you tease and his eyes darken with hunger. He responds by placing a hand on the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“I’m more than happy sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about what those pretty lips would look like wrapped around my cock for ages.” He gently guides your head back to him, and you open up wide to take more of him in.

You start slowly, he’s so thick it’s hard to fit him all in. You press your tongue underneath his hard cock as you slowly bob up and down on him, using your hand to help jerk the rest of him. Once you adjust, you push him further into your mouth until you feel him hitting your throat. His hips thrust up, trying to feel more of you and his hand presses your head closer into him. You feel your gag reflex kicking in as he releases you, gasping for air as you come up.

“Was that, ok?” Fives asks, and once you smile and assure him it is, he grasps your hair again. “I want to fuck your pretty mouth; can I do that sweetheart?”

“Yes, use me” you gasp, and he doesn’t waste a second. He slides himself back into your mouth and begins thrusting himself while holding your head in place, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. You’re so turned on by this, having this strong man use you to chase his pleasure. You reach one of your hands in between your legs, rubbing your clit over your jumpsuit, just trying to appease your needs with any form of friction. Fives notices and groans.

“Is this turning you on? Me choking you with my dick?” He grunts while thrusting into you. You hum in agreement, the vibration giving him more pleasure. His head knocks back against the wall, beads of sweat appearing at his forehead. He’s close.  “Fuck, I’m gonna come down that pretty throat of yours. Then, I’m gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours, you like the sound of that?”

You moan and look up at him, pulling your head away from his grasp. He looks wrecked, ready to cum and he’s about to push your head back down when you say, “Let me finish you off.”

His hand is still on your head but not pulling you down anymore. His cock is coated with your saliva, and you jerk him rapidly again then take him back into your hollowed out mouth, You use both of your hands, twisting as you jerk him and suck on his head. He starts gasping your name, warning you he’s about to come. You slide him completely into your mouth, where his tip is partially down your throat as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth and taste his thick, salty cum spurt in your mouth. He holds you down while he thrusts out his orgasm. You swallow as he’s already pulling you up off the ground into his lap and crushes your lips with a kiss.

“You’re wearing too much.” His voice is raspy from his release, but he’s focused on fulfilling his earlier promise to you. His hand finds the zipper at the front of your jumpsuit, and he tugs it down to your waist, his lips never leaving yours.  He roughly pulls down the shoulders, leaving you in just your bra from the waist up. He moves his kisses down to your neck, and he sucks a love bite right where the collar line of your suit would have been.

You feel like putty in his strong hands, moaning at even his softest touches. He grabs one of your breasts over your bra, his thumb rubbing where your nipples are peaking through. He uses his free hand to reach around you and effortlessly undoes the clasp on your bra. He leans back to stare at your exposed chest, eyes glancing over every inch of you and back up to meet you own. You feel yourself blush, but you’re hungry for more. You lean back in to kiss him more, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He wraps your legs around his waist and slowly rises. He carries you over to your worktable, where he uses his arms to clear off the paperwork and tools that had been sitting there.

“Sorry if any of that was important,” He mumbles into your mouth. He places you at the edge of the table and makes quick work of removing the rest of your jumpsuit, leaving you in just your panties before him. He gently pushes you backward onto the table, kissing along your neck and sucking at each nipple before he moves his way down your body.

Your breath hitches as he reaches your hips, leaving another love bite as he gets there. His hands spread your legs open for him, propped against the edge of the table. His kisses trail over your panties and you can feel his breath on your clothed entrance. He lets out a dark chuckle.

“So wet, and I’ve barely even touched you. Someone’s needy.” He places a kiss right over your clit and you feel like you’re ready to lose any control you had over your urges. His fingers reach around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down your legs. He spreads your legs again, lifting one to rest on his should as he caresses and kiss it; his goatee offering a ticklish yet pleasurable sensation. He takes his time teasing you, kissing and licking around your joints and hip bones, his calloused hands squeezing your thighs. You begin to whimper under his touch, trying to rotate your hips so he’ll pay attention to the one area he’s ignored.

“Need something, mesh’la?” He grins up at you.

“Dammit Fives, touch me!”

“I already am, you need to be more specific than that. And maybe try asking nicer?” That little shit.

“Please, Fives. Your mouth. I need it. On me. Please.” You prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. God, you want to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but you need him too much to fight him right now.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” And he dives right in.

His tongue licks a stripe up your slit and you can’t hold your moan in. He uses his fingers to open up your folds as his tongue finds your clit. He flicks it expertly, keeping his eyes one you as you began to fall apart under his mouth. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks gently at first, reading your reactions. He switches up between sucking and licking, swirling his tongue, and lightly grazing his teeth around your sensitive bud, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He’s too good at this, damn him for being so good at this. You have too much pent-up attraction in your system, too much of a need for him, you’re going to come soon.

You can’t prop yourself up anymore, and you fall back onto the table. Your hands search for anything to grab onto, to ground yourself in the moment.  His tongue continues its onslaught against your clit, Fives is using one of his hands to press your hip down, preventing you from moving too much. Just when you think you can’t be more overwhelmed, you feel one of his thick fingers pressing into your entrance. You moan and clench around him, but he can tell you want more so he slips a second finger in. He slows his tongue to match the speed of his fingers dragging in and out of you, only to increase his pace as your body welcomes him in.

“So tight around my fingers, baby. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” Your moans start to pitch higher and higher, your release imminent. He can tell you’re almost there, his fingers press even deeper into you and curve slightly, finding that spongy spot inside of you. You cry out louder.

“Yes, please Fives! Right there!”

He doesn’t relent his pace with his fingers as his mouth latches to suck around your clit. You can’t string two thoughts together; all you can focus on is the electricity pulsing through your body. All you can hear are your moans and the filthy noise from his fingers and mouth pleasuring your pussy. Your legs are quaking around his head, your hips fighting to leave the table but being held into place by your source of pleasure. You’re able to glance down at Fives and the lustful but focused look in his golden eyes is enough to push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a speeder. His fingers work you through it as your pussy flutters around him, and his tongue laps up your release. Once your breathing settles, he pulls his fingers from you and makes eye contact as he sucks them clean.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined.” You’re still sprawled on the table as he stands up and removes the top of his blacks. You’re in recovery from your release, but you feel yourself clench as you look over his sculpted, tan body. You almost moan when you notice his cock, still free from your earlier work is now hard again as he removes what was left of his armor. He notices the hungry look on your face. “Bet I can get you to come again, this time on my cock.”

Your energy perks up and you’re able to lift yourself up again, and you teasingly wave your hips at him, showing off your entrance, still glistening from your orgasm. One of his hands grabs your hip to steady you, while the other strokes his cock and lines it up against your entrance. He slides it up and down your slit, whacking it against your sensitive clit. You shake in his grip and his eyes gleam as he slowly presses into you.

You’re still wet from your release and his fingers had worked you up, but you still have a hard time accepting his thickness. You feel him splitting you open, but the slight edge of pain is overpowered by the pleasure. Fives bottoms out in you and pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You had never been so full and the sensation is almost too much. Your arms lift and grasp onto his biceps, needing to hold onto him for proof this wasn’t some dream.

One of his hands reaches behind you to the small of your back to keep you propped up. His other is gripping your hip, grounding himself as he’s ready to take what he wants. But he has to briefly control himself. He bends down, kissing you on your forehead.

“You feel so good, I won’t be able to last long. Are you ready?” He asks as his kisses trail down to your mouth. You deepen the kiss, gathering his bottom lip in your mouth and lightly bite on it making him groan.

“Fuck me, Fives. I’m off tomorrow, so I don’t need to walk.” You whisper and that’s all he needs.

He pulls himself out and then thrusts all the way back in, hitting your deepest spot. You barely reacted when he’s already moving again, unrelenting in his pace as he aims for that pleasure spot with every single thrust. He holds you against him, smacking your hips into his. Your nails digging deeper into his arm, and you’re turned on at the thought of him secretly walking around tomorrow with your marks on him. His pace is harder than it is quick, and you feel him drag in your pussy with every movement, almost as if you can feel every vein and ridge on his cock. Your pussy is holding him in a vice like grip, and as your legs wrap around his waist he groans as he feels you move around him.

Your head starts to roll back, and his hand that was on your back moves to the back of your neck to hold you in place, making you keep eye contact locked with him. He’s in complete control of your body, his strong arms able to hold you and fuck you like a rag doll. The tension starts to build in your body again, building to another peak.

Fives pulls out and you whine from the loss of him, but then he flips you onto your stomach, your ass up and legs dangling off the table. He uses his legs to spread yours further apart as he bends over, licking a line up your spine. He bites at the back of your neck, grabs a fistful of your hair to angle your face with his as he kisses you. He slams his cock back into you and you cry out; you won’t have a voice tomorrow.

“I’m close, can I come inside this pretty pussy?” he pants into your ear as he slowly drags his cock in and out of you. You were on birth control, so you knew you would be fine.

“Yes, please, fill me up Fives!” you gasp, grinding your ass back into him to meet his movements. He kisses you again then slides his hand back to your hips and begins a brutal pace.

If you thought you hadn’t been filled before, this angle makes you feel him in places you didn’t think were possible. His body pushing into you more and more with each thrust, you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips from his hands and marks on your legs from the edge of the desk. You start to lift yourself, but he uses on hand on your back to press you back down, your cheek turned to the side pressed against the surface so you’re able to see him ravish you from the corner of your eye.

He’s hitting your deepest spot with every thrust, quickly propelling you closer and closer to your second orgasm. Your body is wrecked as he fucks into you. Your vision is blurry, you can’t focus on anything, and your head is filled with your combined moans and the sinfully delightful slap of his hips against your ass and his dick in your pussy. You won’t be able to focus on any of your next projects when you’re on your next shift, all you’ll be able to think of is how this Arc Trooper bent you over your desk and fucked you into another galaxy. Your whole body begins to tense, and you feel a euphoric sensation take over your body. You were already on your way to the strongest orgasm you ever had, when his hand reached around for your clit and his calloused finger pads start rubbing it. You’re pushed past the point of no return.

You scream out but you can’t hear it, you see white and the only thing grounding you to the planet is the sensation of him fucking you through your climax. You call out his name countless times as he fucks you through it, your pussy squeezing him to the point where he can’t hold on any longer and, with a cry of your name, he fills you with hot streams of cum.

He collapses onto you, both of you breathing together and still joined. Slowly he gets up and pulls himself out of you. You nearly roll off the table, but he catches you and picks you up just to bring you down to the floor with him. He holds you in his arms there, allowing you to catch your breath. His golden eyes don’t leave your face as he brushes tears you don’t even realize you had shed off your cheeks. He smiles at you and his eyes twinkle as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I’m glad I lost that bet,” you joke, making him laugh and bend down for another kiss.

[pykestowatchoutfor]

“Sky Command”Sucks!: A Note on Art and History on the Margins of the High Republic

This is an expansion of some thoughts I brought up in the wonderful Cerebro discord so credit to my interlocutors over there for bouncing some of this stuff back and forth!

---

I’m in the middle of catching up on phase one of The High Republic, and finding myself really more engaged than I expected with these younger-reader novels. I’ve found that the distinction between the main novels and the YA novels is very thin, and seemingly predicated more on where the books’ senses of scale fall than on differing degrees of sophistication (the YA novels being a bit more interested in close studies of a smaller cast of characters and their difficulties with the contradictions of their milieus versus the larger scale ensemble stuff in the adult novels), and while the junior books are definitely very much pitched towards a younger audience, they still feel substantial and interesting enough to justify a read, particularly since they breeze by.

Anyway, I was struck by this brief scene from Chapter Nine of Justina Ireland’s Mission to Disaster. Avon Starros, a precocious young genius held captive by the Nihil, is with a bunch of other kids when their captors drop off a little treat:

So-- narratively, this is important because Avon, being a precocious young genius, is able to cobble these shitty old video game consoles into a means to have the ship’s doors and gain temporary freedom. But it struck me-- throughout the High Republic material, we’re told with some frequency about stuff people do for fun, and more tellingly, pieces of mass media that they enjoy. Holochron movies and serials, musical recordings, and here, even video games with enough cultural cachet that even a century on this disparate grab-bag of young hostages recognize them! 

It occurred to me that the original trilogy is very much a product of its time in terms of the horizons it imagined for telecommunication, mass media, and entertainment in a sci-fi universe with otherwise fantastic technology. Off the top of my dome, peoples’ pleasures are mostly low-tech, local, and non-professionalized. In the first six movies, and again I’m making no pretense to rigor here, people fill their spare time with:

1. Shooting rats in the desert 2. Shooting the shit at Tosche Station 3. Drinking 4. Listening to jizz wailers 5. Playing space rock ‘em sock ‘em robots 6. Fine dining 7. Bloodsports 8. Watching dancers 9. Yacht ride 10. Podracing 11. Fucking 12. Death sticks 13. Whatever strange opera Sheev and Anakin go to 14. Oh, I forgot sabacc! 

With the exception of the opera and the Boonta Eve Classic these largely seem to be provisional, unsanctioned affairs done by people who momentarily find themselves with nothing super urgent to attend to. We don’t know if Max Rebo is the best musician in the galaxy or just the guy who can blow jizz better than anybody else immediately on hand. We don’t know if kids on Tatooine and kids on Alderaan are reading the same books, hearing the same fairy tales, listening to the same music, etc., and it seems eminently plausible to me that most people live in pretty tightly circumscribed spheres in the world imagined by the original trilogy to the extent that people could become quite hazy on what the jedi order was like in the space of a generation. So much of A New Hope is about the perils and precarity of getting information from one place to another-- Vader choking Ozzel through the screen in Empire Strikes Back is as much about the unworldly miracle of video conferencing as it is about the unworldly miracle of the Force.

So it’s interesting to me that in the “golden age” of the High Republic there does seem to be not only more consistent and widespread galactic-scale communication technology, but also more (and more widely disseminated) culture. Avon and Petri and their fellow prisoners are from a grab bag of planets and a grab bag of species but they all find a common distaste for the tacky, outdated games dropped at their feet by their captors.

I think that’s a cool little way of telling me something about the world these kids live in-- what they can afford to take for granted, what common cultural coin they hold in common.

 And what’s more-- that they can appreciably manage to assess and dismiss this game for being old and out of style is extraordinary. One of my little qualms with KOTOR and SWTOR-- games which to me range from a fun enough MMO to a masterpiece of the medium-- is that despite taking place thousands and thousands of years before the movies, fashion, architecture, and engineering design seem frozen in time. The bad guys wear chic black and grey-tone Hugo Boss-ish numbers, the jedi wear their demure brown tunics and cowls, regular joes and josephines run around in their dusty, well-worn flight suits-- same as it ever was, same as it ever was. And I get the utility of this-- it communicates to a casual player “hey, this is Star Wars!” with a ruthless efficiency, AND it suggests something about cyclicality and repetition on the visual level that is reinforced and challenged by turn in the script. But all this only makes sense to me on the level of myth-- in the real world, of course, art changes, fads come and go, taste mutates and meanders along. A videogame from a century ago would be demode to a little kid, no less than a videogame from a mere decade ago might turn off a child in the real world. This feels so beautifully in keeping with the OT’s lived-in, patch-work look-- it implies a kind of relationship between people and their objects that is subject to change, and suggests that we can learn about the people by observing the changes closely enough. Time doesn’t stand still, and people rush to keep up with it-- our machines break down, our hip new kitchen remodels gradually fade into kitsch, and no shit Petri does NOT want to play FUCKING Sky Command!!!!

We see this quite a bit in the High Republic stuff really! People talk about cheesy holovids and compare their real life experiences to the fiction they grew up consuming, Bell and Burryaga help defuse their fear creeping through the dark underbelly of Starlight by cracking jokes about  “fright holos” (I imagine Claudia Gray and I are on the same page about “horror holos” being a mouthful). There’s a ruefulness to this-- these are all suggested to be kids’ stuff, fantasies that act as a contrast to the all-too-serious situations the characters find themselves in. They outgrow art on a personal trajectory too-- or expect that they should-- but keep calling back to these really tangible cultural touchstones-- a tension that feels kind of rich and delicious as a grown-ass woman reading Star Wars novels and finding them frequently delightful. Just as much as the gleaming, pristine temple garments and the spectacle of the Starlight Station itself, this sense of a wide-spread, easily accessible, and historically mobile aesthetic culture does so much to convey that something between here and the Prequels was lost, something which did meaningfully bind people across the galaxy together.

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Slave Bonds - Ch. 3

<- Previous Chapter

“Yes, master.” She bowed obediently as he dropped heavy bags into her arms. She did her best to hide the smile threatening to surface as he made his way to the door. Anakin had told her to make a game out of it. It’s like pretend, he said. Pretend to be everything he wants you to be and then when he’s gone, you can stop pretending. It was easy for him to say, his master would raise a fist, but never hit him. The threat alone was enough. When her master raised a fist, she’d spend most of the day numb.

But right now she was happy and it was hard to hide it. Sebulba was leaving for a week! Jabba sponsored him in a race against the other Hutts. She hadn’t followed all the details only that for one whole week, she wouldn’t hurt. She wouldn’t have to play pretend. And she could spend as much time as she wanted at the junk shop.

She’d been working hard to prove herself to her master. To prove that she was a good little, obedient slave. There were times though, it felt like he hated that more than when she got into trouble. It didn’t matter now. He was going away for awhile. She’d been his slave for about six months, according to Anakin. He was better at keeping track of the time than she was. 

“If I find one thing missing or out of place when I return, or one speck of dust…" Sebulba growled at her. "And trust me, I will know if you’ve not been keeping the place up!”

“It will be spotless, master.” She stared at her feet. 

“It had better be.” She took a deep breath as soon as the door slammed behind him. Dust floated down from the upper shelves she couldn’t reach. It danced in the sunbeams and she chewed her lip. She wanted to go play, but she was scared too. His house was huge and it often took her most of the day for barely half the chores. And Sebulba could be tricky too. Who knew what kind of traps awaited her? He could have set up any number of things to keep watch over her. He’d done worse things when he was here, so she didn’t believe for one second that him being gone meant she could play the whole time.

She felt a jolt through her body as though he knew what she was thinking. She raced to the closet and pulled out a broom. She swept so fast that the dust started whipping back in her face and stinging her eyes. She dropped the broom and started coughing. There had to be a better way to clean up all this sand. Of course, she’d often wondered what the point was. This whole planet was sand. At least as far as she could see. Even if she succeeded in making the house spotless, one drafty window could undo it in a second. It felt pointless. Just like most of the chores he assigned her. 

She stood on her tip toes, peeking out the front window to see if he was truly gone. He was nowhere in sight, but she still felt on edge. Like he’d jump out at her at any moment when she least expected it. She crept slowly through the house, testing for traps or unwanted surprises, but found none. It did nothing to ease her nerves though, Sebulba was clever. He’d find a way to get her when she least suspected it. It was a lot of why she’d really tried to be a good slave lately. She still got to see Anakin once or twice a week, but it was usually when Sebulba was napping or otherwise out of the house. She had trouble keeping track of how much time passed when she was playing with her friend so she was often gone too long. Nearly every outing ended with a beating or several painful zaps. 

 One week, she’d hurt so badly after play time that she’d opted not to go visit him the next time an opportunity popped up. She’d spent the whole day so miserable and lonely, she finally decided he was worth the pain. Everything felt better when he was around and she’d rather get in trouble for small moments of happiness than live an entire day of misery, just to not get hurt.

 He had other friends now though. Kids closer to his age. Sometimes they laughed at her for wanting to tag along, but he never pushed her away. He always seemed happy to see her and would give her plenty of attention even if they were there. She didn’t mind being teased for wanting to be with him. It was still worth the beatings. There weren’t any other slaves her age. At least not that she knew of. And though his friends liked to tease them, especially when she’d mess up and call him Skyguy, they were nice enough to her. And she liked them, but not as much as she liked Anakin. 

 After waiting long enough to be sure he must be gone, she opened the heavy front door and peeked out. No sign of him, but the moment she took a step, the heavy collar around her neck sent a painful zap through her body. She fell backwards into the house, tears welling in her eyes. She knew he’d do this. He wasn’t even here and he could still hurt her. She closed the front door and went around to the back one. It happened again there. 

 "Hey Snips!“ She was on her feet racing to the front door. "I saw Sebulba leave, you want to go play? Watto let me off early today.”

 "I can’t.“ She started crying. "He made the collar zap me if I try to leave the house.” She didn’t want to be stuck in this smelly place all week. A week of freedom from her master but of course she couldn’t go.

 He stepped forward, fingers on the slave caller, looking it over. Then he started inspecting the door frame. “What are you doing?”

 "I’m trying to figure out what triggers the collar. There has to be some mechanical link around the door, because there’s no way he could know every time you try to leave.“ He pulled over a chair which stirred up more dust and she bit her lip as he climbed onto it. 

 "Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She shifted nervously. Even if what he said was true, surely Sebulba would know if he messed with it.

 "Would you rather stay here all week?“ He ran his fingers along the arch.

 "No." 

 "Then don’t worry, Snips.” He always said that. Don’t worry. But she did, she couldn’t help it. When he told her that, it would be fine for awhile and then usually ended up twice as bad later. “Ah ha!” His fingers curled around a small metal circle and yanked it off the wall. She stumbled backwards and fell into the wall when he brought it up to show her. “Oops! Sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut to the pain of the jolt and finally it stopped. “Are you okay?”

 He was leaning over her, his hands out to pull her to her feet again. She shook her head. “I hate that.” It hurt to breathe. 

 "I turned it off. You can leave the house now. Want to go play?“

 "Yes.” But her legs hurt now. She felt wobbly. He caught her as she started to fall. 

 "Here,“ he turned his back and knelt down. "Climb up and put your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you." 

 "Thank you.” She did what he instructed and she felt weightless as he lifted her off the ground. She clung tight to him as he went outside, but he was right, he’d turned it off. It didn’t zap her again. She liked the way it felt to be carried. It felt a little like how she imagined flying. As if he knew what she was thinking, he spun around in a circle and she giggled, throwing her arms out to the side. He held her legs around his waist and she fell backwards, staring up at the sky as he twirled them both. She was getting dizzy but she loved it. “Again! Again!” She squealed. 

 He just laughed and then he’d go the other way. She forgot everything but the game, for awhile and when he finally slowed down they both fell to the ground laughing. She squeezed her eyes shut as her head continued to spin. When it stopped, she looked around. They were in a back alley away from the central part of town. The sandy buildings were dull and stiff against the blue sky. 

 "What are you thinking?“ She rolled onto her elbows and watched the way he stared at the sky, the blue of his eyes the same color. 

 "Podracing.” He said after a moment. “Want to see the one I’ve been building? We could take it out for a test run. I’m pretty sure it will start.” He propped himself up. 

 "Those scare me!“ He smiled at her. 

 "Don’t worry, Snips!" 

 "You always say that!” She leapt onto his chest and they started wrestling in the sand. He always won these matches because he knew she was ticklish, but it didn’t stop her from trying. She might be small, but she had a lot to prove. She collapsed onto him after giggling so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat and the way his chest rose and fell beneath her head. It was more a vibration than a sound. It was a strange feeling, but one of her favorites. Compared to the rest of Tatooine, he felt alive. Sometimes he felt more than that; bigger than life itself. She didn’t understand. She’d hugged his mom a few times and it felt nice but not like the way he did. 

 "Ani and ‘Soka, rolling in the sand…“ they were both on their feet at the teasing laughter of his friend. "K. I. S. S. I. N. G." 

 "We were not!” She stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips, pouting at him. 

 "I’m surprised you can spell that!“ Anakin replied, picking up a handful of sand and throwing it at his friend. Kitster threw sand back and they all joined in. 

 "Ani’s got a girlfriend! Ani’s got a girlfriend!” He laughed, ducking behind a crate so they couldn’t hit him with the sand. 

 "Eww!“ She picked up as much sand as she could and ran at him, pulling out his shirt and dropping it inside. 

 "Argh!” He yelled and ran off down the alley trying to get the sand out. “I hate sand! I hate sand!” Her and Anakin watched him go, laughing. She snuck over to him and dropped some sand in his shirt too and took off running when he turned around to chase her. 

 "I will never get this off me!“ Anakin cried as they ran outside town. "Come back here! You get some too!”

 "You have to catch me first!“ She giggled, running as fast as she could towards the racetrack. They were halfway there when he caught up and she squealed as he tackled her and put sand down her shirt too. "Stop! Stop!” She cried, pushing back at him. 

He pinned her to the ground, hands full of sand, a mischievous look on his face. “So you can dish it out, but you can’t take it, huh?” He laughed, holding it over her head. She squirmed under him.

 "No fair, no fair!“ She fought to get her hands free. She squeezed her eyes shut expecting him to throw the sand in her face, but he never did. She looked up to see that he’d dropped his hand and was staring off in the distance at something. She twisted to see what he was looking at. "Ani?”

 He looked down as though he’d forgotten she was there. “Come on.” He stood up and helped her to her feet. “Let’s head back to town.” He took her hand and started pulling her back, she looked over her shoulder trying to figure out why he was suddenly so quiet. She could make out two figures in the distance, but nothing distinct about them. She dropped to the ground when a loud, yet sickening explosion sounded behind them.

 "What was that?“ She looked up at him, eyes wide, trembling in fear. 

 "Don’t worry about it,” he whispered and helped her back to her feet. “Come on, let’s go take the pod out!” He playfully pushed her and started running back towards town laughing, but for the first time she didn’t want to follow him. 

 Whatever happened out there, he hadn’t wanted her to see it and it was starting to feel like he was purposely not telling her things. He was protective of her, and she was grateful for that, but it scared her to see the moody changes in him and not know why. She turned back towards the arena trying to see what had happened. She wasn’t brave enough to go investigate, so she stayed rooted to the spot. Before long, she saw a figure heading in her direction. It’s shape roughly resembled one of the ones she’d seen in the distance. The wind stirred up and blew with it a horrible smell; charred flesh and fresh blood. 

 She panicked and raced towards town, feeling sick to her stomach. No wonder Anakin hadn’t wanted her to see it. “Ahsoka!” He caught her as she turned the second corner. “There you are!” She squirmed in his arms. She didn’t feel like playing right now. “Calm down, calm down. It’s okay!” He tried to hold her, but she slipped out of his grasp and kept running. 

 "Oh my goodness, little one!“ She ran smack into Anakin’s mother a street away. "Are you alright?” She crouched down and Ahsoka threw her arms around her neck, burying her face in it. She couldn’t stop crying or even catch her breath enough to answer her questions. “What happened?” She felt Anakin come up behind her and he must have made some motion to his mother because she whispered, “oh dear.” And hugged her tighter. 

 She was lifted off her feet as Shmi stood up and carried her back to their house. By the time they made it there, she’d managed to stop crying, but still didn’t want to let go. His mom sat down with her in a chair and rocked her, singing softly. After a few minutes she was finally able to calm down enough to look up. She admired her dark brown hair and pretty brown eyes, thankful she was warm and kind. 

 "Better now?“ Shmi smiled at her. 

 She nodded, wiping her eyes tiredly. "Sebulba is out of town for a week. Can she stay with us tonight?” Anakin came into the room, his hands full of parts. 

 "Of course,“ his mother said sweetly, patting her on the arm.

 "I’ll show you how far I’ve gotten on Threepio!” He beckoned her to follow. 

 "Thank you!“ Ahsoka hugged Shmi again and followed after Anakin.

 "Isn’t he beautiful?” Anakin grinned from ear to ear.

 "I guess so,“ she looked over the droid that was finally starting to resemble a person. Last she’d seen it, it was just a mess of parts. "Does it work?”

 "Not yet, but soon!“ He pulled down some goggles and started burning several metal pieces together.

 It reminded her of whatever she’d just witnessed outside and she backed away. Sitting down on his bed against the wall, she pulled up her knees and dropped her face on them. Anakin talked away about his droid, but her mind kept wandering back to what had happened out there on the dunes. There was a lot she didn’t understand about the world around her, most days it was easy to not overthink things. All she had to worry about was obeying her master, and every few days, she could go play and forget that. But it was getting increasingly harder to not notice the dark undertone of the city. It was something she didn’t have words for, just a sense of wrongness about the way things were. Her friend didn’t like to talk about it, but she knew he felt it too. 

 She didn’t really remember her home world, though she tried to. But even without the memories of it, she was certain she’d remember this wrongness if it had been there too. The games and play were just distractions from something bigger. In some ways, she felt connected to something bigger than where she was, and in other ways, she felt so isolated from everything. And if it weren’t for Anakin and his mother, she’d feel even more alone. 

 "Are you alright, Snips?” He sat down on the bed next to her. She looked over at him, he’d pushed his goggles up into his hair, but there was an outline of dirt where they’d been. His hair was flying wildly in all directions, and his eyes were sad. She shook her head. 

 "Tell me what I saw.“

 He sighed, "sometimes when slaves disobey their master, there are worse punishments than beatings and shocks." 

 "They were killed, weren’t they?" 

 "Yes." 

 "Why?”

 "Owning slaves make people rich. But not all slaves can keep up with the demands of their master. And as they get older… let’s just say they lose their value.“

 "Why don’t they just let them go, then? If they’re no longer useful?”

 "Because that’s not the way it works.“ He crossed his hands and dropped them into his lap.

 "Why not?”

 "I don’t know, Snips. I may never know the answer to that. All we can do is make the best of it.“

—

 "Ahsoka?” He answered the door half asleep. “What’s going on?”

 She couldn’t stop crying. Sebulba's beatings had been getting steadily worse. And it was usually because she’d run away for awhile to see Anakin. Most of the time, she could get through it on her own. As long as she had the charm he’d given her, anything was survivable. But tonight, he’d gotten drunk and she still wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong.

 She rolled up her sleeves and pant legs. Then she pointed out a few new purple spots on her stomach and her back. She looked up at him fearfully when he made a fist with his hands. His eyes narrowed and darkened. She backed away from him without thinking. And he seemed to realize he’d scared her and he stretched his fingers and took a deep breath. 

“Come on.” He whispered, offering her his hand after opening the door. 

 "Where are we going?“ She looked down at her feet.

 "To the shop.” He smiled reassuringly at her and she took his hand. Sometimes he was scary too, but he’d never hurt her. Running away again tonight would only give her more bruises, but she didn’t want to be there. Anakin’s charm was losing power. No matter how tightly she held it, she didn’t feel brave anymore. And she definitely didn't feel okay. She’d come to him hoping he could refill the magic in it. She didn’t want to be scared anymore.

 They snuck through the streets, and he helped her climb through the junk shop window. Once he landed, she followed him to the back where all his tools lived. He moved a small stool over and told her to sit down. "What are you doing?“ She asked nervously.

 "I’m going to get that slave collar off you.” He turned back around with a handful of interesting utensils. 

 "But I’ll get in trouble!“

 "You won’t. Sit still.” She watched the way he worked on it. His calm made her feel better. She was getting sleepy though. It was late. “Okay, I think I know how to get it off. When I push this button,” he pointed to a device in his hand. “It will short circuit the power and release it. But it might shock you a little." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Don’t worry, Snips.” He whispered gently. “One shock and no more beatings!”

 She had no idea how he could be so sure of that, but she trusted him. She closed her eyes and nodded. Holding the charm tightly between her hands. Pain ran through her body as she felt it move without her control.

 "You alright?“ He was standing over her, his hand out to help her up.

 "Did it work?”

 "Yep!“ He held up the still sparking heavy metal collar that had been around her neck. "Okay, now listen carefully.” He pulled her to her feet. “You’re little, so sneak into the spaceport and hide away on a ship. Anywhere they go will be better than this horrible planet.”

 "But I have to go back to Sebulba!“

 "No, Snips. You don’t. I removed the collar. You’re free now. Run away.”

 "Are you coming too?“ She tugged on his hand.

He smiled sadly. "I can’t. I don’t have a slave collar, I have a bomb in my head.”

 "In your head?“ She was confused. "How’d they get one in your head?”

 "I don’t know. But I can’t leave Tatooine or it will explode.“ He made a motion with his hands. "Not a fun way to go.”

 "But I don’t want to leave you!“ She started crying again. He brought his hands to her face. 

 "You have a chance at a better life now. You don’t ever have to answer to someone else again. You’re free, Snips!”

 "What about you? How can you be free?“

 "I don’t know. I think the only way is if someone buys my freedom. I don’t know if the bomb can be deactivated. Now go! It’s late! Get out of here before you’re caught!”

 She threw her arms around him, clinging to him tightly. “I’ll come back for you. I’ll free you! Whatever it takes!” She breathed into his shirt. 

 "Be careful out there, Ahsoka. Be safe.“ He waved after her sadly as she ran towards the spaceport.

Next Chapter ->

[pangeasplits]

I have read your works! And I love 'The Stars Incline us, they don't bind us' so muuuuuch. If this is not too much to ask, can you make cherik fic rec? Thank you! Keep writing, awesome!

thank you very much, i’m glad you enjoyed my stuff! :3 

since this blog is exactly 5 years old today, what better occasion is there to do cherik fic rec post, as lurking around cherik fic rec tumblr posts waaay back in the day is actually what originally brought me to tumblr in the first place. the following list is in no particular order, and odds are i like multiple fics by the authors included but i was determined to limit myself to one from each (though in some cases, this was a veeeery close call, haha).

anyway, the actual title of this list is coincidentally the main criteria i used in the interest of not having it stretch on for miles, which is to say:

Cherik Fics Pan Has Reread An Embarrassing Amount Of Times Throughout Her XMFC Fandom Tenure:

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage by MonstrousRegiment

Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

“You’re the only person in the world who knows what I am.”

Boden’s Mate by kaydeefalls

“Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it,” Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.

XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They’re assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik’s desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them – and then there’s the shade that haunts his dreams…

Malastare Racer by ikeracity

Ignoring strict instructions from Master Emma to stay hidden, Charles and Erik decide to enter themselves into the Gorian Podracing Classic. Because they’re idiots like that.

Star Wars AU!

The Secret of the Knights Templar by madneto

Erik is a CIA agent who has been tracking down black market dealer and occultist Sebastian Shaw for the past ten years with no real end in sight. When he stumbles upon an unexpected lead that will put him one step ahead of Shaw at last, archaeology professor and Templar enthusiast Charles Xavier becomes unwittingly entangled in the fray, and Erik suddenly finds himself with a brand new partner who is the only one who can truly help him on what’s become a quest to find the Holy Grail. But Charles is even more than Erik bargained for, especially after they’re forced to pretend to be a married couple as a cover while racing to find the Grail before Shaw does, and both Erik and Charles find they’ve possibly bitten off more than they can chew.

Powered AU vaguely inspired by Indiana Jones and James Bond movies.

Their Mouths Always Lie by keire_ke

Charles adheres to most police protocols like they are a personal code of conduct. Erik gets things done and over with, for better or worse. Raven knows what she’s doing, most of the time. The serial killer kills, regardless. Police AU.

Try, Try Again by and_backagain

Except that this has happened before, he thinks with a start, and something in his throat closes up as he revolves on the spot, already knowing what he’s going to see. Charles�� back is arching as he falls, his eyes wide, and the crumpled bullet falls to the sand beside him like a calling card. X-Men: First Class Groundhog Day!AU.

The Courtship by dvs

A story about a courtship that began five hundred years ago.

Beloved of ravens by khaleesian

978 A.D. Charles never uses his power, Erik never hesitates. Can a man be both the void and what fills it?

Limited Release by rageprufrock

When Alex Summers broke out of supermax to rescue his stupid kid brother, he had no idea it was going to be so fucking complicated.

A Curious Carriage of Crystal and Cold by Etharei

Charles, a miner from a poor village in the countryside, saves the life of Erik Lehnsherr, scion of a successful business family and the richest man on the planet Eisen. Charles is a telepath and somewhat anxious about it, while Erik abstains from relationships because the lights flicker and doors open and electronics vibrate when he gets too excited.

Also featuring a long-suffering sister, a foul-mouthed bodyguard, and a best friend with a heart that is definitely not gold.

In which there are princes, spaceships, long journeys, and old secrets uncovered. (An AU sci-fi fairytale)

The Tower and the Hurricane by dreamlittleyo

(Post-XMFC AU.) Five years after Shaw’s death, Erik’s predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn’t really matter who’s more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn’t an option?

The Masked Man (Who Has Everything) by Traincat

The one where Erik is Batman, and Charles is kidnapped roughly once a week.

At the End of Day and Night All We Want is More by cm (mumblemutter)

It’s already too late. (Alien/Prometheus AU)

If You Liked The Book, You’ll Hate The Movie by paperclipbitch

Modern-Day High School AU. It’s not until Hank realises half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

Pantheon by Yahtzee

In the year 96 AD, all Rome is aware that their gods have begun to Mark certain people with their gifts – the healing power of Apollo, the metal control of Vulcan, the deathly touch of Pluto, or the mental powers of Minerva. When those gifts fall to slaves or barbarians instead of the Romans themselves, strict control is necessary.

Then a gladiator from Judea meets an enslaved scribe from Britannia, and the repercussions will shake the Empire itself.

Swimming with Sharks by Not_You

Erik used to be a shark. Now he’s not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

To Do List by Black_Betty

Somehow, Charles and Erik have become one of those couples who rarely see each other because of their busy schedules. They’re SO busy, they haven’t had sex in weeks. Erik has had enough, and forms a coordinated plan of attack. Charles is less than helpful.

On Hearts and the Finding of Lost Treasures (The Tombs and the Raiding Thereof Remix) by luninosity

The first time he met Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr was—reluctantly, angrily, and decidedly against his will—impressed. This may’ve had something to do with the fact that Charles had just given him a sunny smile and somersaulted a foot over his head.

Watching the Stars Slide Down by groovyphilia

Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier is ridiculously wealthy, and is used to being paraded around for show at his mother’s high-society Christmas parties. He’s always been rather sporting about it, and dutifully rubs shoulders with the elite every year in the glitz of the mansion ballroom.

This year, he meets a man by the name of Erik Lehnsherr.

Utopia by Takmarierah [Note: WIP but I had to include this fic]

It’s been five years since the beach, and four years since Charles was captured by the Brotherhood. Since then, he’s been kept in a safe house while Erik finally achieved what Shaw failed to do.

Now that most of humanity has been eradicated, Erik’s summoned Charles back to his side, promising a cure and political influence in exchange for Charles’ help - but Charles knows it’s only a matter of time before he asks for more.

Neither Rhyme Nor Reason by unveiled

Charles liked to tell people that the first time they met, Serik punched a kitten. (Or, the one where Erik is an angry Vulcan, Charles is still a telepath, and grief still shapes their lives.)

Incy Wincy Spider by Tawabids

Erik Lehnsherr is a renowned homicide detective, with his husband Charles at home and his partner on the job, Moira MacTaggert. When a twisted serial killer starts targeting mutants, Erik and Moira are the perfect team for the job, especially since Erik himself is the mutant poster-boy of an NYPD trying to improve their image.

But what they don’t yet know is that the serial killer is an old soul out of Erik’s past, and his next move is to pull Charles into his web.

The Amazing Adventures of Cat-Man by so_shhy

Charles is the non-powered, butt-kicking, high-tech teen sidekick of a cheesy superhero. Erik is the sidekick of the corresponding cheesy supervillain, and makes Charles’s life even more complicated than it already is.

Spy Games by manic_intent

Burn Notice AU, with Erik Lehnsherr as the spy and Charles as the trigger-happy ex boyfriend. Erik is burned for unknown reasons in Mexico and wakes up in New York City. Somehow, he needs to raise $500,000, in order to find out -why-.

Aaaand a shameless plug, since you brought it up, and since to this day ike and i still look at this fic and ask each other “wtf how” (and also we reread each other’s bits and yell at each other):

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity, Pangea

Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he’s settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.