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#lightsabers: not just for combat
anstarwar · 1 year
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Have lightsaber, will “bake” cookies
First few came out a little extra crispy
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voidartisan · 2 years
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I keep seeing this one post that goes "how did lightsaber battles go from this [insert gif of prequel trilogy duel] to this [insert gif of rey and kylo]" like it's somehow a criticism of the sequel trilogy. But! I am here! to tell you! that the answer! is Order 66!
It goes from being graceful and fluid to clunky and awkward because there is no one left to teach them. The Jedi of the republic are long gone. Neither Yoda nor Obi-Wan had the time to teach proper lightsaber combat forms to Luke. The reason it looks Like That is because Palpatine wiped out AN ENTIRE CULTURE. The reason those fights look like that is because the knowledge has been lost.
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maulfucker · 4 months
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Ok so. OC thoughts about Order 66.
Verred and Kuru are with Latros on Coruscant when the order comes out. Verred leaves Kuru with Latros and runs to the Jedi Temple to see what's going on and help people escape. She doesn't come back.
Latros takes Kuru and escapes Coruscant before ships start to get pulled over and checked for hidden jedi
Master Apos was with the younglings, and that's another reason for Verred to go to the temple: to try to help her master one last time
Dji survives by letting its ship get blown up and hiding in the debris until the clones got tired of searching for a corpse. No one ever remembers givins can survive in vacuum.
When he's sure the clones have left he sends a distress signal and hopes for the best. It gets rescued by the Da'ali twins, and asks to stay with them until it can find one of its people
(It doesn't know yet what happened to master Apos and Verred and pretty much every other member of their lineage. He suspects, but he doesn't know.)
The three of them eventually track down and find Kuru (and Latros) so Dji can reunite with the only other survivor of their little family.
Latros and the twins are both bounty hunters, and Dji is a great pilot, so they're like. hey why go our separate ways. why not become a crew.
So in my mind they become something kinda like the Ghost crew from Rebels but with two ships, three pilots, and a decade earlier
bonus thought. Latros is a kinda acquaintance of Maul (he worked for him on occasion before the Siege of Mandalore) and I think it would be very funny for them to meet him, considering the crew is composed of two jedi (bad thoughts on Maul) two mandalorians (complex thoughts on Maul) and Latros (no thoughts whatsoever)
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jewishcissiekj · 8 months
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No coherent Asajj thoughts today but here are her Lightsabers over the years
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Padawan
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Sith Assassin
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Bounty Hunter
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bowl-of-fruit-loops · 11 months
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Deep diving into what lightsaber forms Cal uses is so fun omg. (Note: this is going to be focusing onJedi: Fallen Order.)
Form I, Shii-Cho, is basically a given as it’s the form that’s first taught in the temple. Given how old it is, it the form that most resembles traditional sword fighting. However, because of the nature of a lightsaber being y’know a lightsaber, it also incorporates sweeping attacks for dealing with multiple opponents. Shii-Cho focuses on disarming your opponents rather than killing them.
Obviously, Cal does kill all the opponents he comes across, but he does use Shii-Cho, I think specifically in some of the more crowd-control moves and deflecting blasters.
The other form Cal uses is Form VI, Niman. The opening stances look like the stance he uses when Trilla confronts him on Bracca and the stance he uses with the Ninth Sister. Niman is something of a hybrid form and draws elements from Forms I, III, IV, and V (excluding II). It avoids the various weaknesses of the other forms but also doesn’t have their strengths.
Niman is known as “the diplomat’s form” or “the moderation form.” Of all the forms, it focuses the least on bladework. It’s generally the form of Jedi who want to focus on other areas, such as diplomacy, hence the name. To counteract the lack of focused bladework, Niman incorporates Force-based attacks. From my knowledge, it’s the only form to use explicit Force attacks, such as Push and Pull, rather than just augmenting the form with the Force. Because of this and because it draws on other forms, Niman leaves room for the user’s creativity and adaptability in combat.
Cal uses the Force a lot in combat (Push, Pull, and Slow). And it makes sense for Cal to use the “jack of all trades” form considering how his formal training was, uh, cut short. And, game-wise, it the best form for Cal to use because it offers so much room for the player to develop their own combat preferences.
(Fun fact: most practicers of Niman use a double-bladed lightsaber, meaning this is likely the form Jaro Tapal used.)
(Another fun fact: Cal can unlock the double-bladed lightsaber on Dathomir. Niman is also called “the way of the rancor” and rancors are native to Dathomir. Additionally, Dathomir is where Cal uses the most diplomacy, in regards to Merrin and Malicos. To varying success.)
But! Niman doesn’t include Form II, Makashi, and seems like Cal uses it. His dodges and blocking (and parrying, if you time it right) look like the defensive moves of Makashi. Makashi was designed for one-on-one combat against another lightsaber user and focuses on creating an opening to attack and then attacking quickly and precisely. Cal doesn’t really use the offensive moves of Makashi, but he does use the defensive moves.
Of course, once Cal unlocks dual-wielding, he also uses Jar’Kai, which is a form utilizing two weapons.
So! Cal mostly uses Form I and VI in Fallen Order with some defensive moves from Form II and Jar’Kai for dual-wielding.
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valorums · 5 months
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@mvndrvke      sent         …       “ you’re doing great , okay ?? i mean it . ”
╰► SOURCE: Hurt / Comfort Sentence Starters / ALWAYS ACCEPTING
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Shi’al frowned, studying Ahsoka through furrowed brows. The young woman deactivated the two sabers she wielded — Darth Sidious’s former blade, as well as a blade of her own original design — and clipped them to her belt. She shook her head, taking a step forward.
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    “ If this is your definition of great, ‘Soka, then I think you need to check a dictionary. ” Shi’al muttered, flopping onto a nearby couch. “ I shouldn’t be struggling this much with my sabers — I’m good with a knife, and Grandmaster Jovem over at the dojang was teaching me to use a katana sword before Palpatine’s execution. It shouldn’t be this difficult. ” She shrugged, beginning to absentmindedly pick at the skin around her nails. “ There must be something I’m missing. ”
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hiddenbeks · 4 months
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never thought i'd find myself nerding abt lightsaber combat forms but here i am. in wookieepedia figuring out which form liah uses
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menaceborn · 3 months
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finished fallen order :) time to wait for survivor to go on sale
#I've heard survivor has some pretty huge performance issues so no way I'm paying 70 eur for that#fallen order did have some stuttering but I think it was just when it was loading new areas? which wouldn't be an issue except that seemed#to always happen while I was mid-air LOL#me: *trying to catch a rope mid air or something* the game: LET'S FREEZE FOR A SECOND#anyway I did end up liking this game but it also just sort of made me miss the jedi knight games#because although I /did/ enjoy the combat I also still think jedi outcast (and academy but personally i just favor outcast) handles#lightsaber combat the best out of any SW game I've ever played#the combat in fallen order really was perfectly fine#what the jedi knight games have over fallen order imo is that the lightsaber combat in those games feels so uniquely lightsaber-y#whereas in fallen order it feels more generic WHICH AGAIN is fine!#I wish there were more bosses LOL#not the little ones / the ones that randomly show up when you return to certain areas#but bosses as in ninth sister / trilla / malicos (who was not in the game nearly as much as I thought he would be)#because learning their patterns and movements and how to counter play them was imo the most fun part of the game#i was INCREDIBLY frustrated when I first went up against the ninth sister because I hadn't gotten used to the combat yet and I don't have#experience with a similar system from another game so it took me like 7 tries or so before it clicked in my head and I could finally#beat her but I didn't have any problems after that#ANYWAY...#EA when are you gonna give us a (new) bounty hunter game
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revenge-of-the-shit · 2 years
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Please look me in the eye and tell me that lightsaber fights are "better" than wuxia fights like do you honestly believe lightsaber duels even hold a single candle to wuxia
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darthgloris · 3 months
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2AM THOUGHTS #8: unburnt!Vader is attracted to a Jedi
The first time you saw Darth Vader in person, you were pleasantly surprised: you thought he would be this disfigured shell of a man that couldn't tell right from wrong, just another Sith with a mangled and scarred face.
But, oh, my God, was he the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on.
From his sharp jawline to his slightly upturned nose to his cheekbones that seemed to be carved in marble, even the scar over his eye was attractive. And his eyes, his tantalising crystal blues had this intensity to them, this determination. It made your knees wobble for a split second, and it distracted you enough to almost get you shot.
From then on, at every battlefield you and him exchanged innocent glances that soon turned into eye-fucking, and at some point you began engaging in lightsaber duels. The tension was so palpable, it could be cut with a knife.
Now you were nervous, to say the least. The first time you and your troops would be engaging in combat on the Death Star, Vader's official station. You didn't want to fail the Rebellion, and you trusted that the ambition and importance of the undertaking would help you fight more efficiently.
The battle didn't go at all how you expected it to.
"Ahh, fuck, angel..." Vader groaned, relentlessly pounding you from behind. Your cheek was smushed against the wall, drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth with every mewl, and your breasts were pressed flush into the cold surface of the wall. His scent was rubbing off all over you, almost as if he wanted to mark his territory, his broad shoulders swallowed your smaller figure as his embrace engulfed you entirely, each snap of his hips made the metal shelves of the closet room creak and stutter with the sheer force of his movements.
"Vader..." you sobbed, one hand gripping the shelf to keep you grounded to reality while the other rested against the wall for stability. It felt like each time he pulled out, he dragged out your whole spine with him.
"Listen to you, moaning my name like a bitch in heat. Bet you want everyone hearing who's fucking you, huh?" He grinned, pawing at your breasts through your robes. The way his armour brushed against your back made you shiver, the feeling of his large frame turning you on more, if that was even possible. "Only a whore like you could have left her own troops alone just to get fucked good. I mean, how do they even take you seriously?"
You let out a loud cry at the words, whimpering and babbling his name. "Shh, quiet down for me, angel. Don't want anyone to see what belongs to you, do you?" You could only manage to shake your head, your brain could barely compose a coherent thought. He was fucking you too good.
"Good fucking girl..." he groaned, soft growls rumbling deep within his throat as his hips slapped harder against your ass.
"Vader... I- I'm close..." you stuttered. In a swift movement, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, pushing your back against the wall as he shoved his cock in your entrance once again and slammed into you impossibly harder, making you inhale sharply and bite your fist to keep from screaming.
He grabbed your jaw with a surprisingly gentle grip, "Look at me, baby girl. I want you to look me in the eyes while you cum."
You gazed into his icy blues, a passionate sparkle to them as he stared back into your own eyes, and you felt your climax growing closer by the second. He brought his hand down to circle your clit and toyed with the wet folds, the pad of his thumb prodding at your sensitive pearl.
The overstimulation made you sob as the coil in your lower stomach finally snapped, making you cling to his shoulders as your hips curled repeatedly. "That's it, goooood girl..." Vader drawled, a guttural groan escaping his lips as your warmth flooded all around him. His thrusts grew sloppier and his cock throbbed inside you, indicating he wasn't going to last much longer. "Fuck- angel, you're gonna make me cum..." his voice cracked as his breathing picked up.
With a last particularly knee-weakening plunge, he threw his head back and groaned, this time slightly higher in pitch, and his aggressive bucking mellowed into soft strokes as he gritted his teeth in pure bliss while he rode out his high.
Vader sighed and slumped into you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as his chest heaved with passion and intensity. "That was... fucking... amazing..." he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. "My perfect girl..."
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vivendraws · 3 months
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have you ever wondered what captain phasma looks like without her helm? perhaps i have an answer to your burning curiosity…
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in this i’d like to also discuss some headcannons for miss phasma that i had mentioned with @agathaandgwenslesbian because cappie phazzie is just so… 🥰😍🙏✨✨
- the scar on her eye is both a cut and a burn. when she fell in all that fire the only spot unprotected by her armor was the break in her helm, and now it's a patch of burned skin. the harsher scar pictured here is present as well because that scar comes from the initial blow from finn.
- i'm also willing to bet phasma doesn't wear makeup either. "there's no time for it nor is there a need". however she would, on free time/when she's training, wear industrial/cargo pants, thick military/combat boots, and a gray tee tucked in neatly with a simple black belt. the logo to accompany that shirt is a small first order sigil near the collarbone and on her pants she would wear patches with her name, rank, and perhaps home flag on it as well as the first order's sigil as a patch.
- she's not offended by the assumption of masculinity, because she takes on the role of forceful and brutal commander whilst maintaining a strong reputation amongst the ranks of the first order. secretly, though she sees him as freakish and only tolerates him for his status, she's quite amused by kylo ren and wouldn't have it any other way. “the first order is not the same without him." she would also quietly tease him for his inability to find the map to skywalker.
- she would also probably take great pride in how shiny her armor is and routinely keep it clean on her free time, desperate to keep scuffs and marks out of it. she doesn't like deformalities, especially when it comes to her personal items.
- in terms of where her loyalties lie , she is ultimately loyal to herself despite her position and rank amongst her fellows. she would never admit it out loud though, and keep to herself about that opinion, but if it came down to her or a few members of her troops, she'd be fine with the sacrifice.
- phasma would probably pretend her baton is a lightsaber on occasion, side training with saber combat on either opponents or training dummies. if she is caught doing so, she would most certainly threaten the life of whoever caught her playing pretend. "you won't tell a soul if you value your life. now get back to work.”
- she probably secretly drinks tea in her quarters as well because she's british and it's natural.
in my humble opinion , she is most certainly , “gaslight , gatekeep , girlboss”.
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fission-mailure · 1 year
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I feel like the ‘the Jedi were too strict with Anakin and it was abusive and that’s why he fell!’ is telling of a certain ... power fantasy some Star Wars fans have.
Because Anakin didn’t have to be a Jedi. We know he could’ve left the Order, because that’s what Dooku did. The man’s the most skilled fighter pilot of his era, a capable combatant, has experience with diplomacy, has worked as a bodyguard, etc, etc, he would not even remotely struggle to find work, even without taking into account that his wife is a wealthy senator who could easily support him. Hell, while he’d probably have to give up his lightsaber, it’s not like it’d be impossible for him to build another one -- it isn’t illegal for a non-Jedi to own a lightsaber, and it’s clearly possible to acquire lightsaber crystals outside of the Order because, again, Dooku has a lightsaber. It’s not even like he’d have to give up his friendship with Obi-Wan -- Obi-Wan has friends who aren’t Jedi, he has a whole bunch of them. So does Yoda.
(Hell, it’s not even like non-Jedi aren’t allowed to use the Force. As Palpatine points out in the Revenge of the Sith novelisation, it’s not even technically illegal to be a Sith Lord.)
The only reason Anakin can’t leave the Order is because he doesn’t want to. He wants everything: He wants the power, prestige, excitement, and community the Jedi offer, but he also wants to not have to follow their rules. 
And I think for quite a lot of people that’s a very relatable thing, right? We want to have it all. The fantasy of being a cool Jedi is, for a lot of people, ruined by the addendum that there are things you would have to forego to do that. That’s one reason why the idea of Grey Jedi, which fully is just that ‘you can have your cake and fuck it too’ is so appealing to so many fans.
But that’s not what life is like, in reality or in fiction. And Anakin’s fall brings that crashing in: He tries to have everything, and he ends up with nothing. Less than nothing, because at the end of it, not only does he not have any of the things he wanted in the first place, but he’s also lost his freedom (because let’s make no mistake, as much of a terrible, gleeful executor of cruelty and misery as he is as Vader, he is also Palpatine’s slave) and his body.
It’s easy and in a way quite appealing to shift the blame elsewhere and go “Well, he could’ve had it all, but people more powerful than him stopped him from doing so.”
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stellarbit · 1 month
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Reassurance
I needed some positive affirmations and I made Tech give em. No real warnings, but light discussion of anxiety.
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You asked Wrecker to train with you and you keep getting knocked on your ass. Tech offers to help and ends up helping more than you thought possible.
It's a comfort fic mostly and I'm feral for some Tech comfort. Enjoyyyy (Also let me know if you can spot the other potential prompt in here.)
“You’re doing it wrong.” Wrecker chuckled.
You hit the sparring mat hard, knocking some of the air from you. Since surrendering your lightsaber, you took to honing your other combat skills. Wrecker’s hand-to-hand skills were some of the best and he was happy to help when you approached him.
He towered over you as you got back on your feet. “You need to put your weight into it.” 
“I am.” You didn’t mean to sound as annoyed as you did.
“No you’re not.” Crosshair taunted in a sing-song tone from his place leaning against a far wall. The downtime was rare and Crosshair deemed watching you flounder worthy of that time. “You hesitate every time you need to push harder. An easy way to get killed.”
You whirled on him. “I push as hard as I can.” Everything about the thin sniper got under your skin. In a way that made you want to hurry up and see what face he’d make when you slap him across the face. Because it wasn’t and if. It was absolutely a when.
Multiple times you caught him watching you. When you did, his stare stayed on whatever part had caught his attention before slowly meeting your eyes. The way he smirked and chewed that fucking toothpick screamed, ‘Do it, I dare you.’
Crosshair shook his head dismissively and snorted. “No. You’re not.”
Wrecker stepped between you and Crosshair, his massive frame blocking your view. His hands were splayed out in a placating gesture.“What he means is you’re holding back.”
“Or maybe she’s afraid of hurting you.” Crosshair quipped.
Wrecker belted out a laugh, “Ha! Yeah, right.” At that, you cut him a mean look.
The door to the sparring room hissed open and Tech filed in, out of armor and no databad in hand. He took in the sight of you all, to his eyes, just standing around. “Well that was short lived. I thought you’d be sparring most of the afternoon.”
“We are.” Your temper was quickly burning through your patience. “They just have some unhelpful commentary.”
“Perhaps, although you do not handle criticism well.” Tech turned to Wrecker. “What seems to be the issue?”
Wrecker chose his words carefully, wary of the intensity of your glare. "She..." He paused, feeling the weight of your disapproving stare. "She hits a wall and hesitates when she needs to push through."
Tech pondered for a moment, tapping a knuckle to his chin. “I’d like to see what exactly you mean. I may be able to troubleshoot this obstacle.” He tipped his head to you. “If you don’t mind my watching.”
Your stomach flipped. There hadn't been many opportunities for the two of you to be alone. In fact, you hadn’t been alone since your last mission ended. You were discreet in seeking out his company, mindful of not being too obvious. Despite helping you with your broken armor before and acknowledging, even relishing, your attraction to him, nothing more had come of it. You were starting to wonder if it had just been a passing interest for him.
Wrecker and you assumed your positions while Tech adjusted his goggles, a soft beep indicating the start of his recording.
You followed the familiar routine, blending the techniques Wrecker had taught you with those instilled by your former Master. Initially, everything flowed smoothly as you utilized your agility to evade Wrecker's raw strength. There were moments when you successfully countered his attacks and seized the offensive. However, as Wrecker intensified his efforts, a tightness began coiling in your stomach that radiated into your limbs.
The sensation swelled, threatening to overflow or overwhelm you entirely. Just as it had countless times before, the intensity reached a dizzying point where you could no longer anticipate Wrecker's moves. Ultimately, in your attempt to flank him, Wrecker landed an elbow to your chest, sending you sprawling onto your back.
The wind knocked out of you again, leaving you writhing on the floor. Another beep came from Tech’s direction. Recording over I guess.
Wrecker rushed to you. “I think we should stop for today.”
“Agreed.” Tech said firmly as he approached. Kneeling down, he made himself at home inspecting your head for injuries. “While phrenospasms aren’t typically life threatening, it is best to rest after experiencing them.” After a moment of silence, Tech sighed, “You need to catch your breath.”
Wrecker winced, knelt down, and slid a hand under your back to ease you into a sitting position. “Sorry about that, sarad,” His large hand did a few circles on your back before sliding to your cheek. The soft gesture soothed you. “But you’ll get it!” He gave you one last pat on the back before standing up.
Tech clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I'll check her over," he announced, his annoyance evident. Waving off their presence in a bored manner, he added, "It would be best if that happened without any 'unhelpful commentary.'”
Crosshair pushed off of the wall. “Well, if you’re looking for someone else to knock you down, I’ll gladly do it.” You nearly bit his leg as he walked by.
When the door shut and you were alone, Tech pulled your face back in his direction. “Do not dwell on Crosshair’s remarks. He enjoys getting a rise out of people.” With his arm cradling your back, he held your arm and brought the two of you to your feet. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” You took a deep breath in, stepped out of his grasp, and rolled your shoulders. “Just need to practice.” Tech's gaze remained focused on you, analyzing your every move. "When you started hesitating, right before Wrecker landed that hit, you were thinking something. What was it?"
“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” You said quickly, hoping he would drop it.
He didn’t. “You were definitely processing something. Other than your sparring, what were you feeling?”
You turned and blinked at Tech. He never failed to surprise you. “Emotionally?” Analyzing the failures in your strategy was one thing, asking about feelings was a completely separate realm.
Tech shook his head, “No, no. Physically” He walked forward and placed a hand in the middle of your chest. “Just now, you may not be thinking a singular thought but you are feeling your heart rate spiking. Am I correct?” He could feel it himself, but it was important you acknowledged it.
Of course he was correct, his touch kicked your heart into your throat. 
When you nodded he continued. “It is safe to say that is due to your attraction to me. While you may not be actively thinking about it, your body is reacting with patterned behavior due to recurring circumstantial stimuli.” He pulled his hand back and said, “In other words, our bodies remember how we react during significant events. When exposed to similar circumstances our bodies tend to react in an established pattern. It can be positive, like nostalgia. Or it can be detrimental in the cases of fear or stress. Our bodies react before our minds can register what we feel.” He let out a final quip, “It is a survival instinct.”
Tech stepped back and rolled a hand towards you, urging you on. “Now, what were you feeling?”
Taking a second to take what he said in, you realized no one had ever asked you that. The Jedi pointed out identified concerning behavior in you and voiced their warnings, but they never asked you where it stemmed from. They made their theories that then solidified into fact. After that, not much changed their minds. One abided by their rules … or left. 
Seeing how you were stationed with a squad of clones sans a lightsaber, it was clear where your path went. 
Your gaze wandered around the room - anywhere but at Tech. “Something built inside me and I lost focus.”
“Your avoidant behavior suggests this is an uncomfortable topic. Why?”
As well meaning as his questioning may have been, showing him what the Jedi Council had seen hadn’t been at the top of your priorities. “It’s just… I know there’s something wrong with me. But don’t worry,” You tried to laugh it off, “I’ll figure it out.”
Tech’s brows furrowed and his head tilted, clearly confused as to how you got to that conclusion, “I did not say, nor do I believe, you are defective.” The last word snapped your eyes back to him. It didn’t carry weight for just you. “Did the Jedi tell you that?”
Suddenly you could hear your Master’s voice, ‘Dangerous.’ It rang through you and with it came shame. Looking at Tech, patiently asking you questions for your own benefit, your Master’s voice fell silent. 
  “I can’t fight like the Jedi. They fight with the force to keep peace for the greater good.” You hesitate before continuing. “But this energy builds inside of me and I want to use it because sometimes… sometimes I want to win no matter the cost.” Tech’s expression had not changed; he did not seem to grasp the issue. Desperately, you clasped your hands to your chest. “That’s wrong. It’s selfish and that’s not the way of the Jedi. Being selfish can make us - “ You flinched, “them dangerous. Jedi aren’t supposed to want things. I want a great many things, Tech, and the list only grows. The way I am makes me weak minded and dangerous.”
“When you say that you feel this way ‘sometimes,’ what kind of instances are you referring to?”
“The times when losing will cost me something I care about.”
“There is no passion, there is serenity.” Tech recited one of the tenets of the Jedi. “There is no emotion, there is peace.”
“Exactly.” His boundless knowledge earned him a humorous scoff from you.
Tech hummed in understanding. “I can see the Jedi perspective on such traits, considering their Code. However, I'm struggling to discern the correlation between that and your issue with Wrecker. It's merely a practice session, therefore you're not in danger of losing anything beyond the match itself.
You both stood in silence for a few moments. Reflecting on what you confessed and with eyes on the ground, you finally spoke, “I asked Wrecker to spar because I want to know that when I fight I will win. I lose focus because losing to Wrecker now means I’m going to lose something more important than a match in the future.”
An extra set of feet came into sight followed by Tech’s face.
Tech knelt to meet your eyes, adjusting his goggles to better observe you. "The logic in that statement is flawed, at best." he remarked, his tone measured. 
"Individual motivations and morals in combat varies from person to person. As long as your primary motive isn’t causing others or yourself pain, there is no wrong way to survive."
"What if my actions to protect what matters to me hurts others?" The genuine fear on your face caught Tech off guard. "If I prioritize a few, what about the rest?" Your self-doubt and self-loathing troubled Tech; it was a burden you didn't deserve to bear.
“There will always be champions for the many. The few, however, need their champions too.” A slight quirk of his lips hinted at a comforting reassurance. "Additionally, if you're using losing to Wrecker as a benchmark for your future success rates, I'd advise adjusting your expectations. Even General Skywalker himself lost a sparring match to Wrecker. Merely holding your own against him is an accomplishment worthy of pride."
The way your face contorted paired with you sinking to your knees made him worry you might be sick. Instead you sucked in a massive breath and on a shakey exhale you said, “Tech, thank you.” You sounded lighter. A point of satisfaction for Tech.
There was something Tech wanted for you. “What you feel and how you feel is valid. It is crucial you know that.” He cupped his hand just below your ear to smooth his thumb over your cheek. “Until you do, I am glad to remind you.”
Tech’s eyes fell to your lips momentarily, your pained expression warmed into a small smile. There was only one thing missing. He moved his hand to brush his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath caught, and your lips parted involuntarily. "I am curious to hear about this growing list of wants." Slipping his forefinger under your chin he moved your gaze with his as he raised to his knees, posturing over you. It gave him a full view of the flush finally working its way across your cheeks. "Have there been any recent additions?"
Looking at the way your hair was bound together, he didn’t deny the urge to explore a few things. He hooked finger into your hair tie and pulled your hair loose. It fell down, some of it falling into your face. Tech use his fingers to comb your hair back, stopping at the nape of your neck, and then circling his hand back to your cheek. Watching you over the past few rotations, he’d noticed your fondness for your face being touched.
Leaning into his touch, with a hand resting over his, you were practically purring for him. “There have.” You said, spurring him on.
“Do people appear on this list?”
Your nod came with a subtle shift in your gaze, your eyes half-lidded. Tech felt a flutter in his chest, he even felt heat creeping into his own face.
"Do I feature on this list?" he ventured, his voice betraying a bit of anticipation.
Your eyes drifted to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. "I want you, Tech," you confessed, a weighty emotion evident in your expression.
Tech's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he lowered himself slightly. In response, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. "What exactly do you want, sarad?" he inquired softly.
Just as he hoped, your eyes widened for a split second at the sound of their nickname for you. It meant "flower" in Mando'a—a fitting description for how you blossomed in their presence, and at this moment, in his. 
"Stars above, I want you to kiss me.” Without hesitation, you seized Tech, drawing him down to your level. When your lips hit, Tech only tensed for a second, his hand finding its place at your waist, drawing you closer and deepening the kiss. You responded eagerly, capturing his lower lip with a gentle suck.
A soft, pleased sound escaped Tech's lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. Your hands roamed freely, one wrapping around his back while the other found its place around his neck. With a forceful tug you two stumbled backward in unison.
Not breaking the kiss, Tech shoved the hand on your waist out to cushion the fall. Once lowered onto your back, he pulled away to hover over you and allowed you both some air. You didn’t let him pull too far away, stopping him by hooking a leg around his. The pressure of you grinding up into him pulled another little sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut before he playfully pressed his weight down onto you. “I will say one thing.”
With a playful huff, you teased, "Only one thing this time?"
Tech arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Just this once." With deliberate movements, he pushed himself up onto one elbow, transitioning back onto his knees, while simultaneously lifting you to him and allowing your legs to hang around his waist.
You pulled yourself up onto his lap, holding onto his neck for support. “Go on.”
"You are not weak," Tech affirmed, his hands firmly grasping your thighs as he bounced on his heels and lifted you both up. His movements were fluid as he rose to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I daresay you are dangerous."
His remark elicited a genuine laugh from you, though it didn't diminish the charm you found in his words. If anything, it heightened it.
With a subtle tap on your leg, he signaled for you to lower your legs. “As enjoyable as this is, I'd prefer not to delve further into it while my brothers could walk in at any moment," he explained, assisting you to regain your balance. With a deft movement, he produced your hair tie as if out of thin air. "I've given great thought to the aspects of you I wish to explore. And I intend to do so without interruption."
Before you could get another touch in Tech stepped back and tapped his goggles, initiating a soft beep. “Now that we’ve identified the issue, get into position and show me your stances.”
You laughed, “You’re kidding me.”
“I am not, but should you need further encouragement I do have ideas for rewards for your strongest positions.”
It didn’t take you long to get into position.
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antxlss · 8 months
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i hate you so much
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pairing: anakin skywalker x jedi!reader
summary: after a failed mission, tensions between you and anakin are high, but anakin will never lose his flirty and cocky attitude.
warnings: suggestive comments
words: 1.1k
a/n: send me requests please :’( anyways, that’s my begging for today. i feel like this is how anakin acts though. as always, i hope you enjoy, much love! <3
-—————————⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆—————————-
You and Anakin had just gotten back from a difficult mission. You had almost caught General Grevious, but he got away at the last second. Not to mention Anakin made some stupid, rash decisions, which could've gotten him killed or seriously hurt. I'm his eyes you probably did the same thing.
Your ship was landing on the docking bay at the Jedi Temple. The hatch opened and it was pouring the rain. Perfect weather to match the mood. You stomped down the ramp, Anakin right behind you. You were so angry at yourself and Anakin. This should've been light work for you guys.
Anakin walked behind you as you made your way to the temple. He knew you were pissed and honestly? So was he. His face was screwed up in a mix of anger, frustration, and disappointment. He didn't speak to you, he had no words.
The moment you two got near the temple steps Anakin rushed in front of you and grabbed the door, holding it open for you.
You could feel him watching you make your way up the steps.
You started heading to your quarters, as it was late and you wanted to change into some dry clothes and sleep your anger away. You felt Anakin follow behind you. It was a ritual that yourself and Anakin would spend the night together after a mission. To be honest you were almost always together, even though you were probably breaking the Jedi Code.
You reach your quarters and immediately enter with Anakin on your tail.
"So are we gonna talk about the fact that you ran into an army of battle droids with no backup just because you are stubborn and cocky." You interrogate him. "You could've gotten yourself hurt. Or worse."
Anakin remained silent for a moment with his hands behind his back, and honestly it was a little hard to tell if he was angry or hurt with you.
When he did speak his tone was completely neutral... you knew better than to take it for granted though.
"I didn't need to have backup, you know how I work" he said simply, he didn't seem to believe he had been wrong about anything here.
"If I'm being honest.. we should be talking about how stupid you were for almost blowing yourself up." Anakin didn't sugar coat anything.
"Really, Anakin?" You roll your eyes and start slipping off your soaked robes, leaving you in your undershirt and pants.
Anakin's eyes immediately glance towards you and up and down your body.
When his eyes finally return to your face he seems annoyed.
"..Yes really, don't try to dodge the topic."
The moment you look away he takes the moment of you being distracted to continue looking you up and down.
"Oh whatever. Using a thermal detonator to take out an army of droids is nothing like running into lightsaber combat with no backup." You continue as you slip off the rest of your clothes until only your underwear and breast band are left.
This time Anakin doesn't even try to hide how much he's staring now, but at least he kept his hands behind his back.
"Atleast have the decency to turn around if you're gonna take off your clothes like that."
Anakin still looked pissed off at you, but you knew he liked to look at you when you did this.
"Oh fuck you, you know you like it. It's never bothered you before." You smirk.
He rolled his eyes..
"Shut up, just because I like looking at you doesn't get you a free pass to try and tease me like that."
He stepped closer.
"But you know what I actually am annoyed about at the moment?"
"What's that?" You whisper.
He leaned even closer, close enough that you could feel his lips brushing against your ear.
His tone of voice was very low, he definitely didn't want to wake anyone else up with this conversation.
"..You, looking this fine, while I'm still fully dressed."
"Weren't we just fighting?" A smile crept up on your face.
"Yes, and?"
He smirked.
"I can still be pissed at you and like what I see."
"I hate you so much." You place your head against his forehead.
"Never scare me again like you did today."
His hands wrapped around you and pulled you close..
"I'll be better.. I promise" he whispered as he kissed your cheek. "Now.. you should probably go change."
He then moved his hand to your chin and made you look into his eyes.
"If you're not going to go change and you keep looking at me like that we're gonna end up doing things I know you'll regret in the morning."
Anakin then smirked at you.
"You'd want that wouldn't you Skywalker." You pushed his shoulder lightly as you headed to the bathroom to put on your pajamas.
"You know which drawer has your clothes in it?"
Anakin rolled his eyes but then he did a dramatic sigh as he realized how right you were.
"..Yes I do know which one.."
Anakin took another moment to look at you.. specifically your legs, before he headed towards the bed and started removing his shirt.
He changed into some boxers he found in the drawer you kept for him and crawled into your bed to wait for you.
Anakin was laying in your bed, shirtless and with his fingers through his hair. He was just watching the way the moonlight hit your face, and when he saw you returning from the bathroom he moved up to make space for you.
When you entered the bed Anakin scooted closer to you and put his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him so that your faces were next to each other before he started tracing his fingers along your thigh. It was light enough to where it felt almost more like a caress than an actual touch.
"Goodnight Ani." You kissed his cheek.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
Anakin was silent for a long moment before speaking up.
"..do you really hate me like you said you do earlier?" Anakin's tone was soft and gentle, and if you weren't looking at him he could easily be mistaken for just wanting a bedtime story.
"Because I hope not..." he said as his hands continued to move up your thighs, the light caresses turning into light rubs as they neared your hips.
You chuckled "I could never hate you."
Your brought your hand up to his cheek and rubbed it gently.
A smile slowly spread across his face.
"Is that so?" His tone of voice was light and soft.
His fingers were still moving up your thighs, slowly but surely. They were also getting a little closer towards a certain area..
Anakin's eyebrows were raised in the lightest suggestion of a teasing smirk.
"Go to bed you horn dog." You groaned and smacked his head with a pillow as you rolled over.
Anakin laughed at your comment and pulled you closer as you both drifted off into sleep in each other's arms.
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lightsabergirl · 30 days
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okay sooooo
am I the only one who actually prefers the lore that says that Jedi collect their crystals and then meditate with them and that's what gives the crystal it's colour??? (i certainly hope not)
i know it's a thing in the comic books where characters just pick out a crystal with the color already ingrained into it and there's nothing more to it but I feel like half the reason lightsabers are cool to me is because they actually tell you something about the user, they tell you their preferences in combat, how they view the force and sometimes even how deadly they can be
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do I wanna believe mace windu just found a purple crystal or do I wanna believe he got this rare color because he uses dark side tactics but has the ability not to be blinded by them?
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the first time I saw Anakin's lightsaber was blue I thought it was very telling about who he was and I believe that it was actually the first hint to his dark tactics and eventually his fall to the sith (even if it was by accident this is my interpretation).
how could the chosen one, the person with the most midi-chlorians, a person who has incredible force potential, uses a blue lightsaber instead of a green one? it is so accurate to his character because blue means you prefer using your saber to using the force in combat, they're also usually the first to pull them out and the ones to do it without hesitating to anyone anywhere.
i just thought it was perfect, that paired with an aggressive style, it was right under their noses
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aniharas · 3 months
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𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
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pairing: anakin skywalker x padawan!fem!reader
summary: a flirtatious training session left anakin and his new student frazzled. but he knew that if she called, he'd drop everything and answer.
warnings: master/padawan relationship, sexual content, exhibitionism (if you squint)
wc: 7k+ oneshot
a/n: took some lyrics from agora hills and really ran with it. inbox is open for any suggestions! enjoy!
Their intentions were pure. She had caught Anakin on his way to his dormitory, begging him to train with her secretly. She and her master were being sent on their first mission together, and she insisted that she would meet her end if Anakin didn’t take her under his wing. “Please, Master Skywalker,” she had pleaded.
And how could he refuse? The poor girl was on her knees, tears pooling and threatening to stream down her innocent face. He agreed, only admitting that her master was indeed an atrocious teacher and that his own Padawan already knew everything he knew.
When their training started, she immediately realized that Anakin was an upgrade. He chose different approaches, not by the book. He pushed her harder, trained longer, and didn’t let her retire to her dormitory until her technique seemed flawless. Which is why on one particular day, Anakin had nearly torn out his hair in frustration. The moon was already high in the sky, seeming to taunt them as it loomed over the Temple’s garden. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this simple lesson was driving them up the wall. To him, it was simple: to transition from lightsaber combat to parrying blaster shots. But to teach her was like teaching a womp rat to tango.
It didn’t help that they both grew irritable with each passing minute, and it was inevitable with how stubborn they both seemed to be. A subtle roll of the eyes or a scoff would set each other off. Their patience waned, evident through the hits they traded with their practice lightsabers becoming more personal, ending with both on dust-ridden ground, beat-up and breathless.
“Okay, okay, let’s just…relax,” Anakin instructed with a stressed exhale, his face twisted from exasperation. Wordlessly, he motioned for her to do the same, to which she reluctantly followed.
“Don’t act like you didn’t start it,” she hissed, wiping sweat from her forehead for what seemed like the twentieth time. “I don’t get it. It all happens too fast, I basically have to react before it even happens. It’s not fair,” she whined, almost childishly.
“That’s precisely it,” Anakin cut in as he dusted off his pants, rising to his feet. “You wanna stay alive out there? Feel it before it happens,” he repeated, holding his hand out for her to take.
When she was back on her feet, Anakin quickly took her practice saber from her hands. “Hey, what are you-” “Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low and soft, much different from the annoyed tone he had moments before.
It was humiliating how quickly she obeyed him, her attempts to ignore the heat that seemed to ignite her skin. The courtyard was eerily quiet, or at least as quiet as Coruscant could get, only adding to the growing awkwardness between them. It was only when she was about to complain once more that she felt an unmistakable energy emanating from a certain direction behind her. “Do you feel it?” he questioned, his voice low to not break her concentration.
A beat passed before she answered him. “Yes,” she breathed, anticipation seeming to tingle in her voice.
“Feel my presence,” Anakin urged, his voice gentle yet commanding. “Sense where I am without seeing.” He began to circle her silently, holding his breath so he wouldn’t compromise his position physically. 
At first, she tried to sense him with mere sounds, a vibration from the ground, but it proved futile. The wind that chilled her to her bones helped to camouflage any breath or sound that would betray him, and she knew that he always seemed to carry himself as if he weighed like a feather. How could someone so tall and broad move like a lothcat? When she actually began to try, the air seemed to carry faint whispers, brief waltzes of energy that danced around in her mind that just so slightly guided her senses. “You’re there,” she said unsurely, pointing in his general direction. A barely audible sound of approval resonated in Anakin’s throat, a low grunt, confirming her guess. “Good. Take it a step further,” he suggested. “Focus on how it takes shape in your head. Feel my intention,” he instructed under his breath. His whispers somehow seemed to echo off the walls of the temple. “Tell me where my focus lies.”
Initially, it was a bit hard to center her thoughts. None of this was anything like what her master taught her. It was oddly…intimate. But there wasn’t a chance she would let nerves stop her now, she had already gone all this way. With each (notably loud) heartbeat,  she sought out the rhythm of his focus. She tried to envision it like a beacon in the darkness behind her eyelids, beckoning her, calling her like a distant star. Something began to flutter around in her mind–a fiery sensation that seemed to extend its grasp from the darkness towards her. A tingling feeling began to nip at her right hand. That was it.
“My hand. You’re looking at my right hand,” she said with certainty.
“Close, but not quite. Be more accurate.”
Really? Will it really come down to knowing what finger my enemy is looking at? After taking a moment to think, she answered him again. “My pointer finger.” Unbeknownst to her, Anakin’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Keep ‘em closed, let’s do it again. And put it together.”
She continued to list off different parts of her body where she could feel his focus linger from where he was. Her right shoulder, to her right. Her left knee, behind her. All reasonable places to strike in combat. He then trained her to sense where his gaze would relocate to. From her shins to her midsection. From her wrists to her foot. Perfect for sensing how quick an enemy can strike. It was becoming easy. From her neck to her chest.
She froze as the words left her lips, her heart quickening. Her chest, he was looking at her chest. Why was he looking at her chest? As if nature was asking her to relax, a gust of wind rattled the branches of the Great Tree that loomed over them, its yellow leaves seeming to shiver with her. The cold contrasted with the feeling in her cheeks as if urging her to think more rationally. Of course, how could she get ahead of herself? It wasn’t exactly the chest, it was the heart. It was a common place to attack in the heat of a battle, especially when aiming to kill. The Jedi try their best to not strike the chest, but many foes do attempt to go for theirs. It was crucial to sense in the heat of the battle, and Anakin was only helping her, right?
Anakin’s abrupt cough sliced through the silence culminating between them, causing her to wince at the abrasive sound. “Sorry– ahem, it’s just the cold. Making the air pretty dry,” he muttered in between the grunts that cleared his throat. He tossed her makeshift saber back to her, hiding the fact that the sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening. “That was good. I think you’re good to take a break for now.” The sigh of relief that escaped her mouth as she caught the stick was nearly involuntary with how tense she felt. She could only hope that he saw it as relief from relentless training instead of relief from how nervous she felt under his gaze. 
Despite this, she felt saddened as she watched him trudge off to the opposite end of the space. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he began to twirl the stick that was his makeshift saber around him in what looked like a flashy dance, something that she just knew he did regularly from how natural the movement was.
Unknown to her, Anakin’s thoughts were growing rather reckless. Physically, he was always in control of himself. Not one misstep, not one mistake. He could give the galaxy a thousand reasons, if not more, to respect him. But his controlling his mind? Anyone close to him knew this was one of his shortcomings. One of his only responses was to grow stronger, to grow more powerful to make up for that failure. Another was lightsaber training. He seemed to find solace in the hypnotic spin of the stick, the very image cutting through the stillness of Coruscant’s night. His face, usually one would describe as a representative of determination, was now etched with a more lost expression. 
And she was amazed, how could she not be? To do such a complicated maneuver while his mind was elsewhere was something she could never hope to replicate. But that didn’t stop the urge to take it as a challenge, to attempt to mimic his fluid motions. She attempted the intricate moves, stumbling and dropping her weapon every so often, but that didn’t stop her either. It didn’t seem like anything could.
It was then that she felt it – that prickly, warm feeling, expanding over the dip of her waist. It slowly inched its way down and over the curve of her hips.
Anakin truly hadn’t meant for his attention to slip so carelessly. But how could he deny the way that she so adorably tried to replicate his signature move? The pleasure that was the curves of her silhouette against the city lights? Had he been so incredibly naive? Of course, she could sense his intention; Obi-Wan had told him that anyone from Coruscant to Tattooine could. A growing hunger for the silly girl stumbling over herself across the courtyard.
She quickly shifted her stance so he couldn’t see the petrified look that adorned her face, pretending to be too absorbed in securing her hair with a spare ribbon to notice. She felt winded from the mere thought of him looking at her; why did that bother her so greatly? Once again, she tried to rationalize this feeling. Maybe he was just observing her technique. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe he was testing her. But that it was so distinctly Anakin, so spine-shudderingly Anakin, she felt it down to her bones. And even if he was just observing, he wouldn’t need to be looking there. The sensation was also different; it was slightly more passionate. If his focus before could be compared to a poke, this feeling was more of a gentle caress. It seemed to pulse with more and more of that passion the longer it lingered in an area for too long. So if he was testing her, what was he looking for? So maybe, she wasn’t overthinking his gaze on her chest earlier. She definitely knew she wasn’t overthinking as she felt the sultry, unwavering feeling rake over her chest. The subtle warmth that filled her cheeks earlier was now raging, slowly inching its way down her body, like she had set her own skin on fire.
“Well!” She sputtered out, her Padawan braid almost smacking her in the face with how fast she whipped her head around. “I– uh, think we should start again. Maybe sparring?” she suggested, too hurriedly for her liking. She swiped a few strands of stray hair from her forehead in a desperate attempt to look nonchalant. The feeling was too much to bear, and she feared that if it didn’t stop, her thoughts would descend to something less appropriate.
Her sudden exclamation seemed to startle Anakin, ceasing his movements. His breath hitched as his eyes refocused to meet hers. The pensive expression was wiped immediately, replaced with the friendly smile and the crinkle of his eyes that she had grown accustomed to. “Of course,” he obliged, motioning for her to come close. “Let’s get your stances down first.”
She thought that by continuing with sparring, she could distract herself from that forbidden feeling. There was nothing more relieving than whacking down the very man that made evoking a physical response from her seem so simple. However, Anakin only continued to tantalize her. Get your stances down first, he said. You’re not doing it right, he said. It almost seemed like it was an excuse to close the distance between them, and she questioned if there truly was a smirk on his face as she froze up once more.
His cold, cybernetic hand made contact with her arm, just above her elbow, raising it delicately. “Could you keep it right there for me?”
“Yeah,” she answered breathlessly, holding her arm as steady as she could, trying to ignore what it would feel like if his hands were anywhere else.
“Could you focus while you’re at it?” Anakin chastised as he placed his hands on her midsection and the small of her back, straightening her out. She could’ve sworn his tone was challenging her, teasing her.
True to her hard-headed nature, she quickly slouched over again, undoing his previous work. “Could you be nicer?”
The curve of his lips was unmistakable now, his head tilting as he stared down at her in what seemed an endearing manner. “You seem to be fond of pushing my buttons tonight,” he remarked, though without a single hint of malice in his voice. His hand roughly pushed at her lower back once more, forcing a perfect posture from her. It took every ounce of self-control she could muster to stop herself from prodding further. And what if I pushed some more? She knew she would’ve had him. It was a dangerous game to be playing, but she knew that as well.
Even though she had bit her tongue, the mischievous glint in her eyes told Anakin nearly everything. Was it his turn to be tested? He could feel himself teetering on the edge of that forbidden, yet savory feeling that he had been trying his hardest to keep in check. But how could he as he was touching her like this, angling her body exactly how he wanted it to be? He began to adjust her upper body, yet his hands lingered, fingertips gently tracing down her shoulder blades. The heat was starting to creep back into her body. Yet, it was different this time, and it was an unusual feeling. She anticipated the rush to her cheeks, but this time, it seemed to travel much farther down. Though she hated to admit it, she couldn’t help but feel like it would be nice to succumb to it as a pleasant shiver slithered down her spine. At that moment, she would’ve given anything to know what he was feeling. “Can you sense where I’m looking?” Anakin asked in a low voice. It always seemed like he could read her mind. But if he were to continue, all he would see was a frenzied, jumbled mess as she tried to recollect herself. “N-no?” she murmured truthfully, keeping her voice as level as she could. She lied, but it wasn’t hard to tell where he was looking. His gaze was like a warm fire, so intense that it seemed to envelop her whole body. Anakin laughed softly, reveling in the way that she was reacting so strongly to him. As to when this happened, he wasn’t so sure, but he wasn’t one to complain either. He moved slowly to position himself behind her, then leaned in to delicately whisper in her ear. “Can I show you?” “Yes,” she said in a voice that barely escaped her lips, almost involuntarily. It wasn’t just the enigma of his movements, a mere dance of shadows that still captivated her. Nor was it just the velvety nature of his whisper, so tender yet so affirming that it seemed to electrify her nerves. Regardless, she could feel herself melting away. To her, it was as if the very air she was breathing was thickening, transforming the tingling feeling in her chest into a desperate, all-compassing ache. Her resolve was reduced to a mere candle in the wind. Despite this, she was determined to get even with him. An intense desire grew within her, a desire to make him crack and crumble, to turn his limbs into Andorian jelly, to have him begging for her the way she desperately wanted to beg for him. She would knock that arrogant, yet pretty smirk off his face. But he had rendered her so helpless under his teasing ministrations, it wasn’t fair to her. He overwhelmed her. Just when the weight of the tension between them seemed at its heaviest, she abruptly pulled away, ignoring the immediate embarrassment that chilled her bones. Avoiding what she knew would be his intense eyes, she began to mumble, her speech slightly jumbled from how frazzled she felt. “Uh- I was asked to report to my master early tomorrow morning,” she stammered, hastily smoothing out her robes. She hated how easily her voice seemed to betray her lie, so she turned and hurried away without waiting for a response. Her steps began to echo as she ran inside, ominously leaving the famed Jedi alone in the courtyard. As she disappeared into the shadows of the Temple, Anakin barely had the chance to utter a single word, watching with a troubled expression as an uncomfortable silence fell over the courtyard. Every moment that led up to then began to swirl in his mind; all the subtle contact and the teasing words began to replay in his mind at once. The thought of himself crossing the line with her gripped his very heart, aching the longer he stared after her. It had seemed like every time he allowed himself to indulge in the impulsive nature of his passion, he ended up pushing everyone he held dear away. Is that what it is he considered her to be? “Dear”? Whether that was true or not, Anakin couldn’t deny the sense of loss that had begun to gnaw at him the longer he was without her.
But who was he kidding? He would be lying to himself if he said that was a first-time occurrence. For the past few meetings, he found himself dreading the end of their secret training sessions more and more. His desperation to keep her in his presence was under the guise of excuses. “You’re not leaving until you get this down”, or “Meditate with me until you feel one with the Force”. All things that a perfect Jedi master would say, all by the Code. The teachings of the Code that had been drilled into Anakin's mind seemed to taunt him about his feelings, remembering Obi-Wan’s and Yoda’s cautioning against attachments, and yet, the Force seemed to unpredictably guide him to this very moment, yet remained elusive in offering guidance once he got there. Teaching a girl the ways of the Jedi had made him long for her; a sad smirk played on his lips as he pondered the irony of that sentiment. He sighed, the weight of the situation beginning to settle on his shoulders. His gaze fixed on the floor beneath him, inscribing lines and meaningless shapes in the dirt with his stick as he pondered over what to do. Maybe he could explain himself to her, tell her the truth. Was there still a chance to fix things? Would she feel the same way? Then, as if the Force finally answered somehow, a chilly breeze rushed past Anakin, scattering the drawings that he had been working on. He scoffed, almost having a mind to curse out at the wind. But he relented, admitting defeat silently. Perhaps it was best to leave her alone. He had gone too far.
She had tried her hardest to focus on her upcoming mission, but her blooming emotions seemed to overshadow all else. She craved answers, using her alone time to plan out her words, words she needed to breach the unspoken feelings between them. The alone time would include pacing around in her room, attempting to gossip with Ahsoka, or using her pillow as a stand-in for Anakin as she recited her speech. With all this effort she had put in, it only added to the sting of disappointment as she noticed Anakin’s evasiveness. A palpable tension hung in the air when their paths inevitably crossed in the hallowed hallways, and when his eyes always seemed to land anywhere but on her, her heart panged. His excuses to leave every time she entered the refectory felt infinitely worse. Of course, she knew things would have been awkward after she had left so abruptly, but she didn’t anticipate it would escalate that far. Had he taken offense to it? It was common knowledge that Anakin was extremely volatile with his emotions, and even more widely known that he lacked the discipline to control them. Fear of facing her again clashed with the guilt of abandoning their training, and it wore him down each time he saw her walk by. His chest would grow tight, his jaw would tense. It would be the easy way out to continue to keep his distance, to tell himself that he was living the Jedi way. But once the day of her mission finally arrived, he couldn’t help but think that the Jedi way was bullshit.
As the dawn of her expedition arrived, she stepped into a craft hangar of organized chaos. The hum of the ships, the mechanical voices of equipment, and the stampede of footsteps only added to the dizziness from all the nerves that she had built up inside of her. She stationed herself at the entrance to her transport ship as she awaited departure, her fingers tightly gripping the hilt of her lightsaber in an attempt to quell the nervous flutters in her stomach.
But it was no use as the doubts began to fester in her mind. What if she wasn’t quick enough with her parries? What if she couldn’t sense an enemy attack before it was too late? Her own master hadn’t even told her anything about where they were going, explaining that it was a “good learning experience to face the unknown”. She swore if she could ditch her master, she would in a heartbeat. On top of everything, the unspoken tension between her and Anakin was what seemed to distract her the most. Even if she did leave abruptly, she definitely did not deserve the silent treatment from him.
She was about to escape the distracting noise of the hangar, trudging up the ramp to her ship until a strong grip on her shoulder nearly made her stumble backward. She jerked her head around to see the idiot who had nearly ailed her.
“What the-"
Anakin stood there breathlessly, panting as a sheen of sweat decorated his skin. “Shut up. Take this,” he said as he extended a small device towards her. A personal comlink, with an extra modem attached. When he was met with a hard, confused look, he huffed in annoyance before speaking up again.
“It links to me,” he explained, gesturing to his own comlink that was securely attached to his belt. “I’ve rigged it so you can contact me as long as you’re near a Republic satellite.”
She eyed the device warily. “Why now, Master Skywalker? You’ve been gone,” she whispered, a mix of frustration and suspicion in her voice as she replied.
Anakin sighed in disappointment at his own actions, nodding once to agree with her. “Which is why I’m giving this to you,” he elaborated, his brow furrowing. He then took her hand and closed her fingers over the metal, tube-like device. “Please,” he begged as he held her hand in both of his, the tone becoming more desperate as he finally met her gaze for the first time in a while. “Just…use it. Whenever you need me, swear to me you’ll use it. I’ll help you.”
As much as she wanted to fight it, the sincerity in his words was unmistakable, and it slowly began to chip away at her defense once again. With all the questions she wanted to ask on the tip of her tongue, she nodded once, allowing Anakin to attach the commlink to her belt. It was noticeable how they both seemed to hold their breaths in anticipation, at the proximity of their bodies. 
Once he had pulled back, he found himself desperately missing the warmth of her body. And with what was at stake, he couldn’t afford to miss another opportunity to act on this feeling. Wordlessly, he roughly yanked her towards him, the urgency of the action contrasting deeply with the tender touch that followed. He held her close, his body pressed tightly against hers and his embrace firm, almost as if she would disappear if his grip faltered for just a moment.
Despite initially stiffening up, she didn’t want to dissect the swirl of emotions that surrounded them as the hangar’s intercom announced the departure of her ship. She glanced up at Anakin, her eyes blown wide and afraid. “What if I-”
“No what if’s, okay?” he quickly interjected, giving her a reaffirming squeeze before pulling back to see her more clearly. She looked natural in a Jedi mission uniform, she looked pretty. He caught his eyes wandering towards her lips, refocusing shortly after. 
“You’ve got this. I trust you, just trust yourself now.” Reluctantly, he gave her a gentle push up the ramp, gesturing for her to continue. 
Her eyes lingered on his face anxiously before making her way up the ramp. Once she was inside, she idly stood at the ship’s opening once the ramp began to eerily close, obscuring her view of him little by little. It was only then that she realized that she had to say goodbye. She could only muster a small, shy wave as the engine hummed to life, ignoring the calls of her master to accompany her as a co-pilot from the front of the ship.
"Make it back in one piece,” Anakin called out in response, giving a reassuring smile. “May the Force be with you.”
As the ramp fully closed and the ship began to ascend, she pressed her palms against the ramp door, almost wishing she could push it back open and he would still be there. Soon enough, the atmosphere of Coruscant began to slowly fade into a symphony of stars through the ship’s windows. She stared down at the comlink attached securely to her belt. Anakin’s lifeline to her. It shed a bit of light on how he felt, but now she was determined to make it back home, so she could uncover the whole truth.
The mission had been a success, unfolding with an outstanding performance from the Jedi girl. She anticipated every attack, adapted to the battle and terrain, and even helped devise strategies with the commanding clone of her unit. It left her master astonished, wondering as to when she had improved so much.
However, it didn’t go without casualties. She tried to warn her master about the disturbances she felt ripple behind her, hinting at danger. The warnings fell on deaf ears. As expected, the ambush of bounty hunters emerged from behind their ranks, resulting in a few clone deaths and an injured master. Luckily, she and her Clone unit helped escort him to safety.
She was more than overjoyed to return home from a mission success, unfortunately slightly marred by the recklessness of her mentor. She took pride in the fact that she was able to achieve the feat on her own, without having to cry for help. It made her itch for another mission, the nerves have turned into an addictive thrill. Upon their return to Coruscant, her master was promptly confined to strict bed rest, in turn, leaving her with nothing to do other than train and retire to her quarters, much to her dismay. The soft embrace of her duvet was enough to keep her captive in her dormitory for a while, a definitive upgrade from the stiff cushions of their transport ship. The drone of city life outside the Temple was slowly winding down to a hush, the occasional whir of a speeder zooming by. Staring up at her sky window, she glared at the stars in frustration. It’s not like she wanted to lie down doing nothing, but there was nothing she could do to help it. Yet another reason to despise her insipid mentor.
Besides, she found a better one.
Anakin. Anakin had crossed her mind for the first time since the mission, and she was unable to suppress the heat that flooded her cheeks upon the mere thought of him. He made her feel sane in the unhinged antics that came with their duties. The heat seemed to travel elsewhere when she remembered where their relationship had gotten to. She so desperately wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything that she experienced and more, but she didn’t have a clue as to where to find him.
It was then that she remembered something very important. The comlink. Her eyes darted to her laundry basket in the corner of her dormitory. She flung the blanket off of her body, scrambling out of bed and towards her laundry basket. She was glad no one was there to witness her digging like a feral animal for her Jedi uniform that she had discarded for nightwear. Eventually, she unclasped the metal device from the belt, cradling it in her hand.
Rushing back to the edge of her bed, she sat eagerly and fidgeted with the power switch. Then, a soft hum emanated from the comlink, and a sudden wave of nervousness washed over her body. Uncertainty colored her expression as she brought the mic up to her lips, contemplating the words she wanted to say. 
Once again, she couldn’t convey much. “Anakin?” she began in a hush, glancing around nervously as if she was afraid about getting caught. She held her breath, wondering if he had even heard her. Her gaze was fixed on the comlink, unblinking. Impatient and as stubborn as she was, she began to grow tired of simply sitting there and waiting. With a frustrated huff, she began to put the comlink down until a static-like crackle sounded from it. Hurriedly bringing it back in front of her again, her heartbeat accelerating with each second that passed.
“I was wondering when you would decide to say anything,” his voice rang out, a subtle tone of amusement lingering. The moment she heard his voice, the air in the room seemed to shift, filling the space with relief and exhilaration simultaneously. She didn’t even notice her wide grin and a rose-like color filling the apples of her cheeks as she eagerly listened for him. “Congrats on your mission, by the way,” he continued, shifting to a more formal note, yet his pride for her was evident in his words. “Handled it even better than…well, that’s not the point, is it?”
The small jab at her master was enough to make a giggle escape her lips, covering her mouth in an attempt to hide it. After she composed herself, she brought the comlink to her lips again. “Thank you. I hope I didn’t worry you,” she hummed as she swung her feet off the edge of her bed.
She heard a scoff from his end. “Had me a bit worried since you didn’t reach out. An ‘I’m alive” would’ve been nice,” he playfully scolded, though she could recognize that the sentiment was very much real. “Well, is that all you wanted to tell me?” She hesitated, the words choked up in her throat. Truthfully, she had wanted to tell him everything – the rush of the battling droids, the ambush from the bounty hunters. She so desperately wanted a normal conversation where he was just her mentor. It was never as simple as that. He never was just her new mentor. The only thought that came to the forefront of her mind was the persistent heat that she felt whenever he talked to her. But how could she put that into words without sounding like an idiot? Suddenly, his words from before popped into her head. “You said- uh, to use this if I needed you, right?” she said daringly, though her voice barely audible to her ears. An unbearably long second passed until his voice returned. “Of course. You’ve got the floor,” he replied kindly, though his tone was a bit wary. 
Taking a deep breath with her heart pounding in her ears, she decided to go for all the marbles.
“Anakin, it’s so lonely here,” she whined breathlessly, nearly regretting the words as soon as they left her lips.
“Lonely where?” he immediately interjected, an obvious strain in the way he spoke. “In my room.” She was immediately met with a long bout of silence, and it mortified her. Then, the brief sound of static followed by his voice once again. “Hold on,” Anakin said, sounding strangely distant. The line went dead, and she felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. She had ruined everything hadn’t she? Of course, Anakin was too nice to straight up reject her, but she would’ve rather him do that than leave her in such a panic. As she paced her room, chewing on her nails nervously, a tidal wave of overthinking crashed over her. Had she gone too far? Had he already gotten over her while she was gone? Was she too forward? Anxiety from potentially ruining what she had with Anakin clawed at her, each passing moment with the silent comlink gripped in her hand amplifying the feeling tenfold. Minutes later, a rapid series of knocks reverberated throughout her dorm. Startled, she nearly dropped the device from her hand as her eyes darted towards the door. The knocks grew in frequency and volume the longer she took to answer. They were urgent, almost frantic.
Scurrying over to the door, she was met with the sight of the man that she was tearing herself down over moments before. Her worry-ridden thoughts were quickly replaced with ones of concern. Anakin stood in front of her in his Jedi robes, panting like a madman, skin slightly sweaty with his hair disheveled. He had to take a moment to place his hands on his knees, using himself for support he attempted to rest himself. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She had asked him to come to her, and he did, evidently as fast as he could. “Anakin, you didn’t have to do that.” Anakin struggled to catch his breath as he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, yet his eyes shined with something that told a different story from the rest of his body. “Couldn’t …couldn’t stay on the comlink,” he admitted between breaths, his eyes unabashedly landing on her lips once again. “Not when you sounded like that.” Any doubt she had about his feelings immediately dissipated. She blinked slowly at him, her eyes blown wide, unsure of what to do. Maybe it was the way that her eyes resembled a lothcat’s or the way her lashes fluttered that seemed to spur Anakin into motion. Before she could even register it, her face was being desperately cradled in his hands, the contrast of the warm, calloused skin with the cold metal sending her mind into a frenzy.
In that instant, she was dragged into a heated kiss, the passion oddly feeling tender. The movement of his arms coming up to wrap around his neck only seemed natural as she returned his kiss, the whine that had been sitting in her throat finally escaping. She felt his teeth graze against her lips, nipping at them playfully. When on earth did a Jedi Knight learn to kiss like that? Was he smiling? And why was she suddenly being hoisted up into the air?
Her legs instinctively around Anakin’s waist to prevent herself from falling, relocating and tightening her grasp atop his broad shoulders. Turning them around, he pressed her back against her front door, the very action resulting in a small “thud”. The sound should’ve concerned both of them, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. His lips gravitated to her neck, the tender skin serving as the perfect way to mask his pent-up grunts that were now leaving his throat. It rippled vibrations across her sensitive skin, eliciting little sounds from her that rang like bells in his ears. Once he had learned that each kiss to her neck brought about a different sound, each one progressively grew more sloppy, more languid, more carnal.
Though she never had been kissed in such a manner before, she knew that no one else could rival Anakin. He was patient, testing and prodding at different parts of the skin on her neck to see what she would react to the most. She was already writhing at the mere feeling of his swollen lips dragging across her skin, his teeth coming in to decorate her fragile skin with a bruise or two. 
She had a mind to stop him from leaving marks, to tell him that they would be caught otherwise. However, the thought of a bruise, born out of passion, displayed on her skin for the whole world seemed appealing. The thought of people knowing that he left it there seemed to rub her in all the right ways.
Her reverie was interrupted by the feeling of being dropped gently onto the floor. She looked up at him with a frustrated look. “Why’d you stop?” “Turn around,” Anakin grunted, shrugging the useless garments that were his Jedi uniform off his body. She followed suit and heeded his word almost immediately, but to him, it wasn't fast enough. His hands, large in comparison to her body, grasped her frame and twirled her around, her backside exposed to him. He admired the view in front of him, accompanied by the sight of her hands pressed up against her own front door.
"Anakin?" she called out softly, her head turned just enough just to catch sight of him.
"Hm?" Anakin asked in an equally gentle manner, differing from the low grunts that had just escaped his lips prior. He leaned forward, hovering over her to whisper back to her. "What is it, pretty girl?"
Shuddering at the sickly sweet nickname he had donned her with, her eyes locked with his. "Won't everyone hear if we're right here?" she asked. Yet the way she asked that very question didn't seem like it concerned her very much; it much rather seemed like a courtesy, if anything.
A dry laugh left Anakin's lips, his hands moving to adjust her body to his liking, a feeling that he knew she wasn't unfamiliar with. But now, all it took was for her to bend over ever so slightly, her legs parted just enough. "They can watch if they'd like."
It was all too much to register all at once. He was on top of her, all over her, inside of her. He gripped at her even tighter in a desperate attempt to bring her even closer than they already were before he even thought to start moving. Again, his lips traveled to wherever they could across her bare skin. Her skin was slick, glazing her skin in such an appealing way that made him eager to welcome the salty fluid onto his tongue. Not too long after he eventually started moving, she cried out as he seemed to repeatedly brush against a sensitive spot, and so he upped his pace. 
He was certain if anybody had been walking in the Billet's hallway at that moment, they would've heard her. Judging from the look in her pleasure-ridden, tear-filled eyes, she seemed to understand this as well, and she only grew louder from that point forward.
It didn't take too long until the harmony of their groans and whines began to stagger, Anakin unfortunately growing aware of his approaching limit. His movements faltering, his body hunched over her, his grip growing so tight that he was certain he'd leave more bruises than just her neck. But he was determined, so determined to hold out for her, to give her precisely what she needed. Tangling his hand into her hair, he yanked her head backward so it lay against his shoulder.
"Tell me what you need," he hissed, this voice barely audible over all the obscene noises that their bodies were creating, noises he knew were easily escaping through the door. When met with no response, he yanked at her hair harder, resulting in a deliciously overwhelmed yelp. "Please, pleaseplease-" Countless begs escaped her plumped lips, her body beginning to shake as her hands helplessly clawed at the cold, hard surface of the door she was pressed against. That alone was nearly enough to send him over the edge, his breath held and his chest tightening in anticipation of it.
She turned to face him again, her head pulled back enough to display his artwork of red-purple bruises surrounding her jugular. "Please, 'nakin," she begged, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head. "Keep going-"
He suddenly felt a hot, squeezing feeling around him accompanied by a cry out for his name. She was undone, and he shortly followed, retracting himself in time for their mess to spill all over the floor below them.
The intoxicating feeling that consumed their bodies shortly afterward sent them into a daze. One moment, she turned around to pull him into a wet, messy kiss, the next, their limbs were tangled with each other in the velvety embrace of her blankets. She knew that eventually, they would face repercussions for the sounds that they had subjected everyone to in the dead of night, but those repercussions seemed distant, inconsequential to the way she had begun to feel about the Chosen One.
And she was certain, from the way he stroked her hair to the slow and soft kiss that was pressed to her lips, that she wasn't alone in feeling that way.
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a/n: originally posted on ao3! first ani fic on this site and more to come. likes n reblogs are appreciated and inbox is open for suggestions or prompts!
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