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#she said meditate on rage
justporo · 7 months
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i came uP WITH ANOTHER JUST NOW Tav has a bad dream about Astarion dying and is getting irrationally protective- Astarion must find a way to reassure that no, he is NOT going to randomly keel over, and after proceeding to Make It Worse with things like "it was just a dream" ends up resorting to trying to make Tav laugh to lighten the mood
My dear mushy, yet again you present me with a wonderful idea. This struck a chord with me for the last few days because I was feeling a little anxious and thus very much in the mood for some angst. So here you go! Also remember how I said I was taking a breather? I am! But I still love writing too much to not do it… Also this very self-indulgently helped me with some of my anxiety these past days. (Note tho: I am neither diagnosed with anxiety or a an expert, I can only describe what I can relate to and can imagine, just to put it out there)
Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You)
Warnings: Talk of trauma and nightmares, descriptions of some violence and death
Wordcount: 2,3k
Tav wakes from repeating nightmares about Astarion. She sneaks out of bed in an attempt to hide it but gets caught by Astarion who immediately notices something is wrong and wants to comfort her.
It‘s where my demons hide (I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you)
You woke from your trancelike meditation. On your back, you felt paralysed for a moment, your heart still heavy with dream images that filled you with icy dread. You couldn’t move and felt a single hot tear running down your cheek as a silent sob left your chapped open lips.
The images were still vivid in front of your eyes: Astarion, full of blood, falling over, his face distorted in pain, agony and desperation in his ruby eyes, panickingly grabbing for you; and then: life leaving his ruby eyes until they were only hollow.
And in your dreams you screamed and raged with all your force trying to reach him in time, to prevent what was happening, to at least hold his head in your lap as life passes from him. Never reaching him before it was too late.
The nightmares had come for quite some time now. They always followed the same pattern - and so did you: waking up in the middle of your ‚night‘, freezing from cold sweat, tears running and desperately trying to not wake Astarion.
Because you knew it wasn‘t real. There he was, right beside you. Softly breathing in his own dreams. His face so peaceful and relaxed.
You felt an incredible urge to grab him and kiss him awake to truly know he was there and fine. You just wanted to know that whatever you had dreamt: it wouldn‘t happen, it didn‘t happen; he was alive and well and next to you.
You sat up and felt the goosebumps all over your body and you shuddered. Starting to rub your arms you looked over to where Astarion was. And he was indeed peacefully slumbering - or deeply meditating as was the custom for you elves. You spent quite some heartbeats to watch him - how his chest slowly rose and fell, how a single white lock fell onto his forehead, how his facial expressions softly changed as he was dreaming.
Your heart ached and you couldn‘t shake the dread that kept hold of you. It sat deeply in your bones by now, hands around your throat and closing it‘s fingers. You quickly started to get out of bed, grabbing Astarion‘s shirt that was still laying on the floor in front of the bed and threw it over your head. You felt that the sobs were coming and you wanted to be out of here before the vampire caught onto it - he had enough to deal with, so you wouldn‘t burden him with your brain harassing you with its bad, irrational nightmare fantasies.
The soft pat-pats of your naked feet being the only sound as you walked, you left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen. There you grabbed some of the leftover milk from the day before and then went into the living room. As you lifted one of the thick brocade curtains you saw that it was already pretty dark outside. Some blue was still to be seen in the sky but it was surely and quickly to be chased away by the moon and the stars.
You drew the curtain away from the tall window and sat down in the alcove. Drinking your mug of milk your mind was still on your nightmares. You felt the wound up coil of anxiety in your stomach - it was bad this time. It surely would take some time before you would have calmed down completely. The tension was still way to present this time, making your foot that was on the floor tap nervously while you kept feeling restless.
„My sweet, it‘s way too early to be up…“ The voice of your subject of worry made you whip your head from looking out the window to Astarion. He was standing in the doorframe, sheets messily wrapped around his hips. He looked very drowsy and tired and not fully awake - a very rare look and mood for him.
„Also is that my shirt you‘re wearing because rawr, if I dare…“, his words trailed off when he realised that something was not quite right.
He saw the tension in your body, noticed the unnecessarily hard grip on your mug and your restless foot. Immediately, he was fully awake and rushing over to you: „My love, what is it, what‘s wrong?“ He sat down beside you and pulled you into his lap - no room for protest. His ruby eyes were clouded with worry, brows furrowed and his mouth in a tense line.
You tried to just shake your head and smile at him to assure him that everything was fine, you‘d just woken up a little early. But your body was traitorous, your eyes filled with tears and you could feel your chest start to heave - the urge to let out your sobs and howl in agony almost unbearable.
And as Astarion softly moved a strand of your reddish-brown hair behind your ear and then let his thumb softly wander over your cheekbone, then over your lips and then placed it on your chin lightly, it became too much to bear.
Sobs came and shuddered through your whole body, tears flowed openly. Astarion grabbed you and held you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him back hard - really having to feel that he was there. The vampire carefully placed his chin on the top of your head and softly swayed you from side to side. He said nothing for a while only humming softly - an old elven lullaby -, knowing that nothing he could put into words would make a difference in this very moment - he just held you. Because he knew what it felt like and had had to go for it alone, two centuries of nightmares, and he‘d never wish on another living soul having to go through something like this with no one there to spare you a little solace. This and the way you could feel his chest slightly vibrate while humming calmed you down slowly.
„Having nightmares again?“, Astarion whispered softly when the acute shudders of grief had calmed down a little. You burrowed your wet face at his chest, not wanting to admit that he had caught you. „Don‘t deny it, my love, don‘t think I didn‘t notice you getting up in the middle of the day and sometimes only returning hours later“, he continued. You could basically hear that his brows were furrowed. With a soft nudge on your shoulders he pushed you a little from his chest so he could take a look at you: „I‘m not one to pry and I respect your privacy, Tav, but I‘m worried. When was the last night of a full rest for you, hm?“ His eyes were so full of warmth and worry that you were sure yours were immediately filled with immense guilt. But you were still reluctant, having promised yourself to keep these problems your own.
Astarion softly cocked his head. „Don‘t you think, just a little bit, my love, that I deserve to know? Wouldn‘t you like to know? I bet if it‘d been me you would have already wreaked all Nine Hells‘ havoc upon me to find out what‘s bugging me“, he said while his tone turned sassy slightly. One eyebrow was raised, signature smirk was now turned on at least to half force.
And he knew you well and he was right, that bastard.
You cleared your throat. „It‘s nothi-“, you started. Astarion‘s face immediately dropped: eyes half-lidded, lips pouting. „We can play this the easy way, my heart, or the hard one - I have all the time in the world“, he threatened but his tone was still soft.
You sighed in desperation and looked up to the ceiling. Then you let your gaze drop. You had withdrawn your arms from around him and now nervously pressed down on your one palm with the thumb of the other hand. „I keep dreaming you‘re dying - and I can‘t do anything about it“, you admitted flat-out but did not look up.
„That‘s it?“, Astarion responded. Now you looked up - did he just say that like it was nothing? You kept staring at him in confusion and you surely felt anger rise up inside you. The vampire‘s gaze jumped from yours to the side and back, obviously not grasping what was so harrowing. When you kept staring, he said: „Well, do you have any idea how often I dream about stuff like that happening to you - and me for that matter? And I‘m here, am I not? It‘s irrational, nothing is wro-“ „You insensitive prick“, you yelled and weakly hit him on the chest with your flat hand.
„Do you know how it feels? Watching you die - vividly- over and over again! Covered in your own blood and I can do NOTHING! Only watch you as the life flows from your body…“ The tears were back and you could see how through your blurring vision Astarion‘s face changed from surprise to shame.
He pulled you in again: „I‘m sorry.“ This time he borrowed his face in your hair - you could feel how his face scrunched in agony as he kept squeezing you. „I‘m so sorry, I… didn‘t know how it is for you…“
You lifted your head from his chest with a gasp. The sobs had subsided once more and you were now at this awkward hiccupy phase of a really bad cry. „It‘s like… something burning in my chest“, you said, emotions still crushing over you, wanting to let it all out this time; to rid yourself of it if possible. Your hands rose to your chest, one grabbing the other. „Sometimes it‘s constant, for days on end, a constant buzz. Sometimes it claws its way up to my throat and I feel this pressure. And it‘s just sitting there, reminding me of the fear I have. And at worst it‘s like this impending doom - it holds my heart in its hand and it squeezes from time to time to make me hurt and my heart can only flutter against it like a hummingbird in a cage that‘s way too small. I don‘t know how it feels for you, but that‘s how it is for me…“ You squeezed your hand so hard it hurt - but still not even remotely close to the hurt you felt in your chest sometimes.
Astarion softly grabbed your hands with his and looked at you, sorrow in his eyes. „Well, if it wouldn‘t be so sad that would almost be poetic“, he replied with a sad smile. „I know the feelings you describe well. Too well. Perhaps I‘ve grown too accustomed to it to no longer relish their absence“, he explained his eyes slowly drifting from yours into a gaze that was a thousand leagues away. And now you understood his reaction a little bit better: his was one of an animal knowing nothing but abuse and imprisonment. While yours had barely scratched the surface of the sorrows of this world.
„Astarion“, you whispered softly, withdrew one hand from his and touched your fingers to his face, pulling him back to you - to the here and now.
The vampire closed his eyes for a short moment. When he opened them again he‘d come back to you. „It was still an insensitive reaction of me, for that I apologise.“ „You shouldn‘t have to feel like that or even get used to it. And I‘m sorry I shouted at you“, you answered with a whisper. You felt guilt now.
„No, my love, it was absolutely right to call me out on that and if it helps: it‘s getting better. Slowly, but better. And I‘m sure these storm clouds will pass for you too“, he answered and pulled your face to his, leaning his forehead against yours and his hand softly cupping your cheek. Warmth filled his ruby eyes again and a soft smile danced on his lips.
„Now, I propose whenever you wake with a horrendous nightmare you poke me in the side so the following yelp and curse tell you that I am still very much alive - or unalive for that matter, you get it - and myself and here with you. Promise?“, he spoke and his eyes widened as he made you look into his eyes.
„Only if you do it too“, you answered as you felt some more sobs threateningly bubble up in your chest; this time they weren‘t in sorrow though.
„Only if you promise to not smother me with your pillow when I raise you from your precious and much needed beauty sleep, my love“, Astarion answered with a big smirk now. You pushed away from him but couldn‘t stop yourself from laughing at the banter: „You‘re such a dick sometimes.“ Astarion just laughed dirtily in response - nothing you didn‘t tell him at least three times a day. „Yes, and you‘re a hag sometimes, my sweet“, he replied with a grin, fangs showing, ignoring the obvious contradictory statement he had just made.
You stuck out your tongue at him and as you did it you realised that he must‘ve very well known what he was doing. The tension and anxiety had actually left your body for good. You hoped it would stay this way. And you hoped Astarion might feel the same. Grabbing his hand, you leaned back against his chest, snuggeling up to him. You pressed your spread fingers against his, watching how his hands and fingers were quite a bit larger than yours.
There was still much to talk about, to unravel, to work through; for both of you - but maybe not tonight. Maybe it was enough that you unraveled just a tiny piece tonight. You had so many more nights to slowly get to the rest.
Astarion stared at your hands that pressed together, obviously lost in his own thoughts. But then he smiled and crossed his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly: „Now, promise?“ „Promise and promise“, you replied solemnly and waited for Astarion to say it back. „Now, you say it!“, you said pushingly and squeezed his hand.
The vampire rolled his eyes but with a smile on his face, twisted your joint hands and pressed a kiss on the back of your hand: „Promise!“
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hollyhomburg · 3 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.66)
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(Sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Your track record with trying to survive is a checkered one. This is a red spot among the black and white.
Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, forced murder? Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.
W/c: 8.0k
A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
Chapter 66: Go for the Throat
You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.
But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner. 
You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; this one is white with red splotch on the cheeks, not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. Like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.
The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is black and a generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. Hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things. Rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.
The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.
Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house.
There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet, you take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away- before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.
Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill, it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill, emotionless and analytic. it being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it perfectly or cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.
Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.
It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.
Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Only now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;
How dare she.
How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweet worship. How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.
There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.
The adrenaline rush is an old friend, you know how to use it. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.
Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps light as a butterfly’s wings. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.
Coming Saturday February 3rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)
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anakinskywalker97 · 2 months
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Rise of Skywalker
Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader
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Reader gets captured by her former master. Things don't go as expected as they hash out old feelings.
Warnings: not gonna lie it's really dark in the beginning, Anakin redemption, hurt comfort, good after care, CNC, Rape, Dom Vader, he thinks it's her pulling him into it but it's really the force forcing them together, it's complicated and dark, but feelings confession, part of a larger series, vaginal sex, blow jobs, orgasms, I've never written anything like this before so hopefully it's alright.
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Chapter One: Revenge 
It was beyond stupid to stay on the ship when they were being boarded by Imperial soldiers. You should try to escape on one of the fighters. Deep down you knew it was too late for that. If you were in your own ship it would have been possible. Your shoulders tensed as the Imperial ship came closer, you recognized a Force signature you’d certainly wanted to avoid. It wasn’t quite the same as it had been when he was a Jedi, it was twisted but still somehow him. You handed the ship over to someone else and grabbed your bag. 
You never got the chance to go up against your former master. Something that Obi-Wan had said you should feel grateful for. He knew the two of you had more going on than what was appropriate for a Master-Padawan bond. To fight against someone you love, well, Obi-Wan still wasn't the same man. He was empty, a shell of what he once was. 
You felt disgusted with yourself. You wanted to hurt him, knowing whatever damage you did would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused you. You wondered when this life would ever leave you behind. 
His presence moved through the ship and you were sure that the plans beamed to them were going to be discovered. Another failed attempt. You hadn't been aware of their plan when you had agreed to pilot the ship. It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. 
“Just let him take me.” You had told the rebel leader. Her face pinched in annoyance. 
“You do not understand what he’s capable of -” She started but you cut her off.
“No, you don’t understand now fuck off.” You snapped at her, she felt guilty that someone innocent would be sacrificed for her plan. You moved towards the landing bay. You turned the corner in the final hallway, smoke billowing everywhere from the blasters having been fired. He stood tall at the end of the hall. His features were masked but his presence was shaken by your gaze. 
“Take her to the detention block.” When he finally spoke his voice was metallic and dark. Storm troopers flooded towards you and you went with them gracefully. You wanted to draw them off the ship and give these idiots a chance. 
They checked you over once they got you into the cell. They took your bag, lightsaber, and blaster. You were truly a prisoner. Laying down the sleeping platform you tried to rest. 
Meditation was never your favorite thing, but you knew that whatever happened next you would need your strength. Your mind went the same way it always did when trying to mediate. Memories flooded you and your heart clenched tightly, but as it had been for so many years, there was no Obi-Wan to scold you and put you on the right path. No Anakin laughing at you. Just pain and an embarrassing amount of longing. 
The Force seemed stronger around you than normal, maybe this was the path it wanted you to take. You tried to manipulate it but it wasn't interested in letting you be in control, it was pulling you and weather you liked it or not you were on this ride. 
The silence was a welcome change, your life had become very complicated recently with trade route disputes and the rebels constantly trying to recruit you. 
You thought about the last time you saw Anakin. Rage flared through you and you wondered when that wound would ever heal. It festered inside you. You could push it down, keep busy, but if he was ever brought up you would get sick almost immediately. He’d pushed you away. Sent you away from The Order and The War only to blow himself up and take the Jedi with him. You did come across the full prophecy years later while on a side quest in the Dagobah system. Anakin didn’t choose to become a Sith, at the core of his creation he was a Sith. Your stomach twisted painfully. This information had haunted you for years. Did this excuse him? Did it mean he was evil the whole time? Did he choose this life over you or did he have a choice at all?  
You felt his darkness prodding at your mind. You kept yourself shut down tight, no way you were letting him in. A com chimed and his voice echoed in your cell. 
“It seems you have something I want.” He spoke slowly. “Go to the ship's lower quarters.” The door slid open and you sighed. You moved through the seemingly empty hallways. You followed the trail he set for you in the force. Doors sprang open and eventually, you knew you were in his quarters. The air was different and the lights were dimmed. You moved into the space and decided it felt suffocating. Artifacts were displayed throughout the room and a desk near the window was covered in the contents of your bag. He had carefully laid out every single item. Even the charm he had carved you all those years ago was lying amongst medical supplies and various books. In the center of the room was a large orb, and in the center a large throne-like chair. The rest of the room went to the right and was obscured from your view. 
Once satisfied with your observation of the room you finally dragged your attention to the masked figure sitting on his throne. 
“You called?” You said calmly. His gaze was hidden in his mask but you could feel it resting heavily against your skin. 
“How have you been?” He asked in a dead voice. The sound of it was created to frighten people, it was nothing like Anakin's voice. You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved closer. “It’s not like you to be captured so easily.” 
“You’ll have to excuse me, I never finished my training.” You said hoping it bothered him. You tried not to show him any emotion knowing it would only delight him. You looked out the window.
“I thought maybe you had come to me for that reason.” He said and you snapped your head to him. 
“I’d die first.” The words were coated in venom. You wanted to fight him. He made an exasperated noise that reminded you of who he used to be. 
“Fuck me.” You knew how the words were intended but the suite spoke them as a request rather than a whisper under his breath. 
“Maybe I will.” You snapped back. It was an overused joke, said hundreds of times all those years ago. But this wasn't your Master, this monster before you was a stranger. He looked at you for a moment longer and you hated how hard your heart was hammering. You were waiting for his attack. Your mind had half a hold on your lightsaber across the room. The force was vibrating through you while also being completely resistant to your request. 
His large gloved hands moved to the sides of his sleek black helmet. The sound of air escaping sounded and he pulled the top half off. Your hand immediately reached towards him before you dropped it at your side. The state of his skin made you want to throw up. It was badly damaged, but it looked fresh. As if he had just fallen into lava yesterday. He took the bottom half of his mask off. Then he worked on unfastening his top. 
“What are you doing?” You said in a high-pitched tone. You wanted him to cover himself, you didn't want your heart to reach out to his obvious suffering. You didn't want him to have Anakin’s features.
“Can’t fuck you in all this.” There was a collar around his neck that kept his voice the same. His eyes were red and they burned into your skin. You realize then that he’s serious. Panic washes through you, but there isn't a clear escape. Your mind is still preoccupied by the sight of his damaged flesh and prosthetic arms. They were metal, just like his hand used to be. You assumed he would have had them replaced with the new kind of prosthetics. He kept his gloves on and motioned for you to come up the steps to him. 
“Don't lie to me Padawan.” He growled. “I can feel you pulling at me in the force.” His voice made you shiver but it wasn't you pulling on the force, the force was pulling you. 
You resisted then felt his force presence grip you. Your clothes started to move off of you and you tried to fight him. 
“Come to me.” He said and you resisted now almost naked. His eyes feasted on your form and you didn't know how but you were going to make him pay for this. While your mind was frozen with rage and fear your body was more than happy to fall into him. He pulled you across the room till you were in front of him. It was hardly fair to be naked and displayed  in this way. He’d stripped you down and was now enjoying the sight of you, sitting comfortably on his throne, legs spread.  No way he would actually force you into this, but then again there was a running list of things you thought he would never do. Unfortunately, when he checked an item off of it he tended to do it with as much dramatic flare as possible. 
“I won't.” You said firmly. 
“You will.” His voice was tauntingly calm. He pulled you onto his lap and you tried to break his grasp on you. He had undone his pants and you realized this was actually happening. “You have something I want.” He whispered causing your body to shudder. To your horror he gripped your hips tightly. You felt your body coming undone in his presence. The force was useless, it was pulling you to together. You could feel it now, he could bend it but he couldn't control it entirely. It pulsed around you pushing you further towards him, preparing your body. 
The head of his cock pressed against your entrance you expected it to hurt. His goal was to hurt you, to punish you, and probably get you to spill about rebel plans. This was a torture session. But as he pulled your hips down you could feel how wet you were. Your body opened to him easily. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time in years overwhelmed you. His eyes are red so deeply clouded with rage, something inside you broke as he bottomed out. You wanted to see his brown eyes. You wanted him to be Anakin. Your face flushed at this realization and he groaned. 
“Even now you still need me” The words turned your face red with embarrassment and shame. They cut you. But there was no anger in your body, only need. 
Vader settled himself in your tight cunt. 
“Move.” His deep voice commanded. It was beyond cruel to force you down on his cock only to make you fuck yourself on it. Your hips moved as if working on muscle memory. You moved slowly and every time you bottomed out on him he moaned. The sound made you pick your hips up and do it again. You would probably do it forever if it meant feeling this again. The pleasure he gave made your mind hazy. 
He did something unexpected, his hands were large enough that he could move his grip slightly and brush your clit with is thumb. Just then he used his other hand to push your hips down. His cock reached deeper inside you and you felt it swell within your tight walls. 
“Show me how bad you’ve missed me.” He commanded and your body responded to his touch. You came, walls collapsing against his cock, you felt his seed flood inside you. Your body helped him off, just like it used to. You felt your defenses fall, as your forehead pressed against his shoulder. He moved within your mind pulling from you your worst memories. He searched for something inside you and his grip on your mind hurt. Years flashed before your eyes and he gripped your hips tighter and tighter as you relieved your worst moments. He growled as every part of you was in submission to him once again. 
He picked you up and pulled you down. He was using your body now, and you hated how easy it was for him. You did nothing while he lifted you and slammed you down on his cock. The pressure started to build inside you again. 
“Cum.” He commanded and you felt your orgasm grip you tightly. Your pussy choked on his cock, and he continued to move you through it. Once again he filled you.  You were too far gone to push back into his mind but you could feel a certain ache in his chest. One that belonged to you. Tears formed in your eyes as you felt his emotions but not his thoughts. 
You felt his force presence wrap around your body. You laid back in it like it was bathwater letting it caress you. You were fully on display and watched his eyes devour where your pussy swallowed his cock. He loved how you were on display for him, he loved pleasuring you.   His feelings for you were deep and consuming. This thumb found your clit and you bucked your hips against him. He remained seated moving in and out of you slowly, eyes focused on how his cock fit inside you. 
Eventually, he stood. He set a ruthless pace, hammering into you. But in your half conscious state, you could feel that every time his emotions peaked into rage it would quickly turn to something warmer. He hated that he couldn't hate you, that he couldn't hurt you. That as badly as you needed him, he needed you even more. While his grip and pace were rough, his force presence was soft. Touching you in the ways he missed being able to touch you. He was touch starved and wild with your body. 
You felt his need for you and choked on it as if it were a hand on your throat. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks as those deepest needs inside of you were finally held. You finally felt at home. 
“Master.” The word rolled off your lips and then you couldn't stop saying it. You said it as if his old title could somehow bring him back to you. His voice was deep and he moaned loudly at your acceptance of him. He attacked your clit and your body was pulled under fully. Your vision was gone, and your ability to breathe was gone. You felt like you were going to die, maybe that was his desired outcome. You came for what felt like an eternity as he pumped more and more of his cum inside you. Finally, it’s grip on you ended and you felt him pull your limp body to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, the cold metal reminding you of what had been lost forever. 
He held you tightly and you realized you were still crying. He tried to soothe you but the pain was inescapable. It took you a long moment to understand what it was. You weren't grieving him, you were feeling him. The pain coursing through his body at this moment. It ran the length of his spine and radiated out to what amount of limbs he had left. 
Take this off - you demanded through the newly established force bond. You felt him hesitate before he realized he was hurting you too. 
I don’t know if I can - He tried to unclasp it, only then did you feel his fear and then acceptance. It could be the only thing keeping him breathing, and yet he undid it regardless. Even if he died he had gotten his last wish. He held his breath and took the collar off. Breathing was challenging but not impossible without it. The pain diminished and you took a deep breath. 
You took the collar from him and examined it, you quickly dropped it to the floor in horror. It had been designed to attach into his spinal column, disrupting his peripheral nervous system. The radiating pain finally stopped.  Your fingers ran across the raw skin of his neck and you shuddered at his increased pain. You could also feel his pleasure, so starved for touch that he could adore your touches even if they caused him tremendous pain. 
Take it all off - you urged him knowing it was the cause of most of his pain. He reluctantly pulled out of you and placed you on the edge of his desk. He slowly removed the rest of the suit and you felt him get lighter. You took in the full extent of the damage. The suit had been designed to dig into his flesh causing it not to heal properly. Your mind was still hazy but you reached out with the force and pulled a container of healing salve. It was so easy to feel and use the force now it felt strange to you. 
No - He realized what it was the moment it landed in your hands. He picked you up quickly and carried you to the bathroom. He placed you down on the countertop and got a warm washcloth. He cleaned you carefully, then began to wash the rest of your body. His fingers run over the bruises forming on your skin. You could feel his distaste for the new scars that had been etched into your skin since the last time he saw you naked. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. His voice. Anakin’s voice without that stupid collar. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling it run through you. He sighed feeling your chest split open for him. 
He carried you once again through the space into a smaller room. It had a large bed covered with black silky sheets. He set you down in it carefully. He could feel your arousal at his tenderness and he planned to fully enjoy it despite having just washed you. 
You used the force to pull him down this time. You got him on his back and straddled him. You could feel his disapproval but didn’t care. You grabbed the container of salve and started with the deep gashes in his neck. He let out a sound of relief and you covered his scalp and face before moving to his torso.  
You felt him let his guard down completely, you had free run of his thoughts as you treated him. 
“Anakin.” You had never used his first name and it felt strange in your mouth. His body tensed but you continued. “I don't blame you.” 
The words may have been more for yourself than him. His hands gripped the sheets and you could feel how much pain he was in at your words. But when you could feel someone's heart it made sense. You had known of the prophecy in it’s entirety for around three years, and only now could you feel what they actually ment.The years of slavery, The Order - you felt his last interaction with you. How he had insisted you leave The Order. Leave the war. Only now did you understand what he was trying to protect you from. The loss of your companionship only made it easier for Palpatine to pull him in. All he wanted was order and control. After being in pain his whole life it made sense. Palpatine’s warning to him that you would die in battle rang through his mind and it was your turn to grip the sheets and clench your jaw. His last fight with Obi-Wan, how much he hated himself for it. Dark memories of his surgery came in bursts and it felt as if you were experiencing it with him. Every memory after that was coated in a thick syrup of pain. Palpatine's rage and manipulation are so clear to you now, the way he regularly lashed out and tortured Anakin.
 The moment Palpatine told him you were dead. The feelings he felt in that moment hit you. He had really thought you were gone all this time. 
I didn't intend to show you that - he sounded deeply uncomfortable. 
I guess you had something I wanted as well - Before he had a chance to react and ruin all the carefully placed salve, you got down between his legs. You felt his vulnerability and knew that it was likely to snap sending him back into his cave, further into the Sith. You didn't fancy having to fight him after your muscles felt like jello. You closed your mouth around him wondering how you used to do this. It was sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to remember how to get him down your throat. 
His mind moved back to the first time you had ever done this. You re-lived your shared memory. It was late and you had been training well passed when you should have been. After years of unresolved tension, when you had him pinned on his back, you moved into the same position you were now. You’d read your first romance novel and couldn’t stop reimagining the scenes with your master. You begged him to let you do it. You wanted to please him and feel pleasure so badly it was driving you mad. He’d let you, but only for a moment before forcing you on your back and eating you out. He hated taking from you if he wasn't also giving you pleasure. 
“Tell me I was the last.” He said before groaning deeply as you moved him passed your gag reflex. 
Last, and only - You hated yourself for it, but his abandonment had twisted you up so badly you could never trust another to get that close again. You felt him slip into ecstasy at this revelation. Quickly he pulled you hair and dragged you off his cock with a pop as his head slid from your lips. He pulled you up onto the bed with the force and you landed on the soft sheets. The salve was dry and you thanked him for waiting. 
He moved inside you quickly then stopped. The feelings vibrating through the both of you were so strong. There was still the towering darkness in him that you left untouched. You had some of Anakin back, that would have to be enough for tonight. 
Search your feelings - he gasped. You did and could feel it pulse through you. The force was moving in both of you in a way you had never felt before. It was harsh and raw, it was something bigger than the living force. Something deeper. The realization of what it was choked you. 
Love - Not something Sith did. Not like this. Not pure like what was running through the both of you. He fucked you slowly, and you felt his surprise when you kissed him. He moved in and out of you with a tenderness that brought you over the edge in a different way. Something had permanently bonded between the two of you. Separating was impossible, but which side would win out. Would you be Sith? Or Jedi? Or your preferred option of nothing. 
This orgasm left you drained. There was nothing more you could do tonight. Your mind was gone, vision blurry with sleep. Your eyelids became heavy and you felt him get up. He came back with a damp cloth and cleaned you once more. You could feel his fascination with your skin and wanted to ask him about it but couldn't. 
________
Vader had pushed you too far. Your mind collapsed from all the feelings and sleep took you. He held you tightly in his arms only drifting off for an hour at a time. He would wake up startled having to check that you were still real. Then he’d have to check your pulse, feeling it with the force until he would drift off again. The force was taking him on a different path. One he had given up on long ago. But he knew that you were stubborn, he had his way with you last night but tomorrow would be a different story. You would either go with him back into the light or leave him. The thought of losing this power crushed him, but knowing he could be loved again would be worth it. 
A feeling overtook him and he realized he would do anything to live within your love for him. The way he had treated you was unforgivable, and yet you had so carefully tended to his wounds. Even after he had just inflicted wounds on your own flesh you still cared for his. He pulled the pot of salve from his nightstand and carefully applied the last of it to the deep purple bruises he had left on your flesh. 
He felt sick. He went to the dark side to end the war and prevent your death. He had ensured that you were safely away before crossing over. Palpatine had told him you were dead. He’d believed it, unable to feel you in the force till that ship had come into range. He wanted you to be untouched by his evil and last night he had all but raped you with it. Forcing your body to betray your mind. If he could get up without waking you he would have gone to the bathroom and vomited. The pain he felt was so great he felt you jump in his arms. Your head lifted from his shoulder. Your hair was a mess and your eyes could barely open, puffy from crying. 
Does it hurt - I can put on more salve. - Your words were hazy even in the bond.
Go to sleep - he pushed away his frightening thoughts and tried to be calm to sooth you. Your head fell against his shoulder and you were out cold again.  
He didn't have to do right by The Order, Obi-Wan, or Palpatine. He just needed to do right by you with what time he had left. The force was strong with you and your choices, so he made the choice to follow
Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan
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anakin-pilled · 4 months
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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part one)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.8k
warnings: minimal uses of y/n (trying to avoid writing this as much as possible but sometimes u need to!), awkwardness, anakin needs a break, POV switching (im trying something new, but its still in 3rd POV), reader is a popstar (very loosely based of taylor swift), too many scenes (i'll limit it next chapter) rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
taglist: lmk if u want to be added!
author's note: well, here it is!! my first anakin fanfic!! i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and it just reminded me of how much i hate beautiful men (hayden christensen) and the effect they have on me and then this feeling just spirialed and became a fanfic--and my first ever mini series! i'm aiming for four or five parts? enjoy!!! (proofread but if u see a mistake pls tell me). sorry if the first part is boring, i'm just trying to set the vibe and introduce the major plot elements! creds to saradika for the header!
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All Anakin Skywalker wanted was one, uninterrupted kriffing break. Yet, even that seemed like too much to ask from the Maker. With an annoyed sigh, Anakin quickly ended the call on his comlink and made his way out of his living quarters and towards the Jedi Council’s meeting room. “What do they want from me now?” Anakin thought to himself. 
It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to sport an attitude, but lately, his foul mood had been exacerbated in the last few months for several reasons. Anakin’s recent breakup with Padme laid heavy in his heart. As the war raged on and both of their duties called them away for weeks, even months, at a time, the young couple rarely had time to see each other. It was supposed to be a small break at first–Padme was working on an important bill that could change the tide of the war, so she wanted to focus all her energy on gaining support for the bill from fellow Senators and campaigning for its passage on the Senate floor. So, Padme suggested that she and Anakin take a quick pause on their relationship until she was finished with the bill. But even after the bill passed, Padme was too consumed by her senatorial duties to put her all into a relationship. Anakin was just as busy on the battlefields, traveling to distant systems, and ensuring that the Separatists did not win any more than they already had. However, he was still willing to put an effort into their relationship because he loved Padme more than life itself. Padme was Anakin’s first love, and they had already been through so much together. Didn’t that mean something? It was late one night when the couple retired to Padme’s apartment that she dropped the news. Anakin felt as if his whole world shattered. He begged on his knees to Padme, to give them another chance. She insisted it was for the best and that she would reach out to him in a few months when she felt ready. Anakin would be lying if he said a part of him was shocked. After all, Padme put her job as Senator above everything else. But still, it hurt knowing that the one person who he would abandon everything for, would not do the same for him. 
Aside from the breakup, Anakin was tired of the constant fighting, the rising death toll, and the never-ending chaos that always seemed to follow him. The 501st Clone Battalion’s most recent war campaign was brutal, and they lost a few men to Trandoshan separatists while in battle at a small, Outer Rim planet. Anyone could see that Anakin thrived in war. He was nicknamed the “Hero With No Fear” for a reason. But, the death of his men, or any man under Republic forces, always left his heart and mind unsettled. 
As Anakin reached the door to the Jedi Council, he quickly shook his head as if to ward away his dark thoughts. He really should meditate more. The door opened and Anakin was greeted with the sight of the Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, he noticed many of them appeared via holoprojectors. 
“Hello masters,” Anakin said with a bow. He looked around until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, who happened to be off-planet at the moment. Obi-Wan gave Anakin an uneasy smile which blared the alarms in Anakin’s head. Anakin was already in a defensive mode due to his rocky relationship with the council. 
It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “General Skywalker, we have called you here today to discuss an upcoming mission. It is to our understanding that you are currently on a break right now, however, you were specifically requested by the Chancellor for this task.” It must be an important mission if the Chancellor himself requested that Anakin carry it out. 
“There will be an upcoming charity event hosted in honor of the Republic to raise funds for the war effort. The event is being held in Corulag in ten rotations from now. While Corulag is part of the Republic, there have been recent Separatist activities within the planet and its system,” Master Windu continued.
“And what will I need to do while in Corulag?” Anakin asked with a slight edge in his voice. He really didn’t want to travel off-world.
“You will be the personal escort and bodyguard to the charity’s main event, singer (Y/N) (L/N). She will be performing a show as part of the charity and her presence is estimated to bring in a lot of credits for the war effort. While we don’t personally believe there will be a threat on her life, the Chancellor suspects that the Separatists may try to infiltrate the singer as a way to ruin the charity’s efforts.” 
Anakin felt his annoyance flare up again. He was being taken away from his well-deserved break time to babysit a singer? This was a job that even a Padawan could carry–Ahsoka could do it with her eyes closed. 
Even through the holoprojector, Obi-Wan could see the tale tell signs of his former student’s growing anger. He pitied the boy. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin deserved his break, especially after his most recent mission. However, it was not up to Obi-Wan alone to make these decisions. With the war prolonging itself more than necessary and the expenses rising every day, the Republic needed as many credits as it could get from its supporters. Obi-Wan quickly piqued up from the side to calm his friend, “Anakin, the Chancellor personally requested you as the singer is a family friend of his, and he trusts you. The Council will discuss giving you vacation time after completing your mission.” As vexed as Anakin might have been at first, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint the Chancellor. He had no choice but to accept the mission. Anakin silently nodded to the council. 
“Recieve more instructions tomorrow, you will. Rest for now,” said Yoda from his chair. 
And with that, the meeting was over. Anakin said his goodbyes with a bow and walked out.
After Anakin left the meeting, he headed towards the Jedi Archives to conduct some research on his new mission. He wasn’t interested in who the singer was, or what she did. Rather, he wanted to know what kind of person she was–was she a controversial celebrity, or did she stay in the lines? Anakin prayed he wasn’t dealing with some crazy, entitled celebrity who did whatever she wanted. That would make his mission harder than it needed to be. He had heard of the singer’s name in passing from Ahsoka, who kept up with recent trends via the HoloNet. As a General and a Jedi Knight, Anakin no longer had the same sense of freedom that he had as a Padawan, even though he had much less freedom than his other Padawan counterparts. “Perks of being the Chosen One, I suppose,” Anakin bitterly whispered to himself. 
Anakin filtered past the front desk of the Archives after giving Madame Jocasta a quick nod and small time. He wanted to be in and out so he could get food from the Temple’s cantina before retreating to his living quarters for the night. 
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“What do you mean they are assigning a Jedi Knight as my security detail?! I thought this was supposed to be a simple concert for a charity event, why are they assigning a Jedi if there is no imminent danger?!” you exclaimed to your manager, Gido Frisco, with a pointed look. 
When you agreed to perform at this charity event, you did so because you wanted to help raise credits for the Republic. Your management discouraged you from having any outspoken opinions on politics as it could lead to alienation from fans and tabloid backlash. But after your home planet became a recent victim to Separatist forces, you could no longer idly sit by and continue living as if the war didn’t affect you. When the charity’s organizers approached you to do this event, you happily agreed because all the credits earned were going to a meaningful cause. To the Republic. To democracy. 
The event was to consist of several performances by famous artists from throughout the Core Worlds, but you were the headlining event. Though you would humbly deny it, your popularity superseded everyone else set to perform. The media and your fans dubbed you “the Galaxy’s princess” due to your popularity as a singer across the Galactic Core. You hated that nickname. You were very far from a princess–you were just lucky enough to be born with an innate musical talent. Nonetheless, you were still treated as if you were royalty. 
“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you. There has been Separatist activity in and around Corulag, but we don’t predict that it will directly affect you. Think of the Jedi as an extra security personnel. They won’t let anybody or anything hurt you,” explained Gido. 
“Who is we?”
“We as in myself, and the Chancellor. He was quite worried for your safety when he heard of your acceptance to perform.” That made much more sense. The Chancellor, an old family friend of yours, often looked out for you throughout your years on Coruscant. You had no family on the planet as all your family lived on Bar’leth, only visiting you every few months. While you saw them as often as you could, the help and care they provided you was limited to messages on your holo tablet and calls via communicator. The Chancellor took it upon himself to help you whenever he could. You were extremely grateful for his help, but you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the thought of having a Jedi accompany you. You knew Jedis were the peacekeepers of the galaxy. As the war started and worsened, the Jedi were thrust into a new, partial position. Where the Jedi went, trouble unfortunately followed. Would more trouble follow you if you were accompanied by a Jedi than if you were not? Only time would tell. 
“Very well. And when will I meet this Jedi?” 
“You will meet him tomorrow morning. Please do not stress the situation. We are merely taking precautions. Rest for tonight and we will talk more in the morning. Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Gido walked out of your apartment and you were left alone.
You walked outside and onto your balcony and observed the night sky. Your eyes followed the speeders flying through the air–a cacophony of honks and whizzes! reached your ears. You leaned upon the stone masonry of the balcony’s railing and rested your elbows on its surface. You then laid your cheek in your palm and closed your eyes as the lights of Corscuant reflected off your statue. You took into the slight breeze of the night and enjoyed this moment of serenity. Who knows what the next few rotations will bring? You could only hope you would suffer a nicer faith than your home planet. Your eyes opened, and you retreated into the lush interior of your apartment and began your nightly routine. 
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Holy kriff, this man is kriffing gorgeous! Those were the first words that popped into your head when you saw the Jedi knight walk into your living room. It was early in the morning. You thought he was only supposed to accompany you at the charity benefit, but your team thought it would be best if he accompanied you throughout the week as you prepared for the event and ran errands. 
As he walked closer to you, you felt your mouth run dry and a creeping heating sensation sprouted from the base of your neck to your cheeks. You could only hope he didn’t feel the heat radiating off your body. He was wearing dark-colored robes, with a maroon long-sleeve undershirt, and only one leather glove on his right arm. Was this a fashion statement of some kind? Gido spoke up before you could say anything. 
“Welcome, and thank you for being here Jedi. I can assure you that it means very much to us and I hope that you find yourself comfortable for the next few rotations. Our team will do its best to ensure you are properly accommodated. My name is Gido Frisco, and I am (Y/N)’s manager.” Gido reached out his hand for Anakin to shake. Anakin took his hand in a firm grip and replied.
“Thank you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, general of the 501st Legion. I will do my best to keep (Y/N) safe.”
Anakin. You had heard of him before–he was the Republic’s poster boy and a very successful leader. Though you knew of him, you had yet to put a face to the name until now. Instead of making eye contact with the man, you simply stared at the ground until Gido included you in the conversation. 
“And this is (Y/N),” Gido said. 
You then looked up at Anakin and made eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the color of his eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue that was highlighted by the scar running down the right side of his forehead to underneath his eye. 
There was an awkward moment of silence before you stuttered as you reintroduced your name to Anakin and shook his hand. Shit, he's strong, you thought as he shook your hand with a firm grasp. If there was one thing you were weak for, it was a strong man. A strong, beautiful man!
“Pleasure to meet you too. I’ll be at your service this week,” Anakin stated with a small smile. Kriff, even his voice was attractive! You could only stare at him and nod. You were truly at a loss for words. Wait, can he hear my thoughts right now? You thought to yourself. You heard the Jedi could use the Force to read minds, but you didn’t know if this was just a rumor. You hoped it was just a rumor or you'd find yourself burying yourself six feet under the ground out of embarrassment.
“Well, now that you two are acquainted, I’ll be taking Anakin so we can go over the security details. Stay here until then.” Gido then led Anakin out of the room and that was the last you saw of the Jedi until dinner time. 
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When Anakin woke up the next morning, he walked toward the Temple’s catina to grab a warm cup of caf and breakfast. The food was meager most days, but it beat having to live off the plain-tasting ration bars that he ate most of the time when he was on missions and campaigns. As Anakin walked through the tables to find a seat, he was greeted by the site of his former master sipping on a cup of tea and conversing with Ahsoka. 
“Ahh, Anakin. Nice to see you this morning. I am terribly sorry that you have been called upon for another mission. I do believe that your rest was well-deserved, but unfortunately, I had no power over this decision,” Obi-Wan stated as he continued to sip on his tea. 
“Thanks, Master. I can’t say I’m particularly excited about this, but hopefully, after this is done, I can properly enjoy my rest.”
“Master, you’re so lucky! I am so jealous of you right now. I wish I could join you, but Master Sinabu has requested that I assist him in a few lessons with the younglings,” Ashoka pipped in. “Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?” She was excited. Ahsoka was no stranger to being in the company of high-profile people, but most of the time, it was limited to officials and members of the Senate. Boring! The thought of her master working with one of the most famous singers of this generation was honestly hilarious to her. A part of her wished it was her on this mission instead. The last time Anakin was on babysitting duty was when Ahsoka first joined Anakin as his Padawan was to rescue Jabba the Hutt’s son. Much like Anakin, Ahsoka believed this task could’ve been carried out by a Padawan, but as Obi-Wan explained to her, the Chancellor personally requested Anakin for this task. 
“Snips, I’m there to protect, not get autographs. Try practicing your mediation skills, and maybe I’ll get you an autograph,” Anakin said with a small smirk on his face. Much like him in his Padawan days, Ahsoka found meditating tedious and boring. He honestly should meditate more to set a better example, but Anakin’s teaching method was more of “Do as I say, not as I do.” 
“Oh come on Skyguy! You owe me this favor after I saved your butt back on Florrum. What would you have done if I wasn’t there to save you from all those assassin droids?” quipped Ashoka with a slight raise in her eyebrows. Damn, she got me there, thought Anakin to himself. But, he wasn’t going to let her have this win so easily. One might say that Anakin was acting immature for his age, but he and Ahsoka’s relationship thrived off witty remarks and friendly competition. Anakin’s relationship with Ahsoka was one of the most precious things in his life. 
“Except I won our last sparring battle. That makes us even, no?” Ahsoka’s smile quickly dropped, and she glared at her master. Anakin took a sip of his caf and continued, “Only kidding, Snips. I’ll try to get you that autograph. I might be too busy trying to keep this singer out of trouble.”
Obi-Wan observed his former student and Ahsoka with fondness. “Do not worry, young one. You will beat Anakin one day. A student is only as good as their teacher, and you have a good teacher. I would know–I taught him,” Obi-Wan joked with the two. “Anakin, I hope this mission goes smoothly. I know how badly your last assignment went.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Though Anakin’s ego subsided since he lost his arm at the Battle of Geonosis, it didn’t mean he liked talking about his failures. The Separatists somehow acquired important Republic intel and managed to ruin Anakin’s battle strategy with a surprise attack. He and his men just barely made it out on time before a full Separatist takeover happened. Anakin’s appetite was ruined by the thought of it. 
Suddenly, Anakin’s commlink beeped and he knew it was time to head out to the hangar and receive his instructions for the week. He said his farewells to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before going to the hangar, where he was surprisingly greeted by the Chancellor. The older man smiled at Anakin and shook his hand.
“Anakin, my boy. I cannot express my gratitude to you for accepting this assignment. You see, I specifically asked for you because I knew that I could trust you with my dear family friend. I do hope that you take care of her well.” 
“Of course, Chancellor. She will be safe under my watch.” 
“Now, she shouldn’t give you any trouble. She is a well-mannered girl. However, I have just received secret Separatist intel and wanted to share it with you before I visit the council. According to the intel, Count Dooku has ordered intelligence to interfere with the benefit. Our report says that he is planning on hacking our broadcasting signal and threatening the talent for the whole galaxy to see. For what, I do not not know. While we do expect the benefit to raise many credits for the Republic, the show will also provide a boost in morale for the citizens of the Republic. I theorize that Count Dooku wishes to ruin the public’s perception of the Republic’s efficiency and control over the war and the talent are a way to do this,” explained Chancellor Palpatine.
Anakin furrowed his brows. “Seems like Count Dooku is running out of scare tactics. Chancellor, the Jedi will ensure that the benefit proceeds as expected and that no harm comes to anyone there.” 
The Chancellor smiled at Anakin’s words. “Thank you, my boy. Now I mustn’t take any more of your time. I will let you go now. You will receive more information on the Separatist intel later on.”
Anakin and the Chancellor shook hands once more before Anakin boarded his ship and plugged in the coordinates provided to him by the council. 
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Anakin’s first impression of you was that you were pretty. A delicate kind of pretty that Anakin had only seen in one other person before, Padme. But as quickly as the thought entered his conscious, he pushed it toward the back of his mind. What was he even thinking? He chalked up to him missing Padme. Yeah…Anakin just missed Padme and now that he was in the same familiar situation that he was in a few years ago when he first met Padme, familiar feelings are rising. After all, this wasn’t the first time Anakin had been sent on bodyguard duty for a well-known beautiful public figure. 
Your manager introduced himself to Anakin and then introduced you to him. Though he wasn’t excited about this mission, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he would be staying in your luxurious apartment for the next few rotations until you traveled off-world. It wasn’t very often that the Jedi were afforded such accommodations. Anakin had spent his fair share of nights seeking refuge in strange, foreign biomes with only mere sticks and leaves as shelter. If he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his private quarters at the Temple, he might as well enjoy the lavish high-rise Coruscanti apartment. 
Despite Anakin’s initial impression of you, your reaction toward him was…intriguing. Based on his research last night, Anakin couldn’t anything on the HoloNet that painted you in a bad light. Sure, there were the occasional tabloid articles that made outrageous claims about you, but all of those were overridden by the amount of good publicity you got. Charismatic, friendly, confident, a sweetheart–these were all words used to describe you by the various media outlets. But the person standing in front of Anakin seemed everything but that. 
Your nervous energy radiated off you and permeated Anakin’s senses through the force. You avoided eye contact with him until your manager forced you to properly look at Anakin and introduce yourself to him. You definitely didn’t seem as confident as the Holo Net made you out to be, but Anakin didn’t fault you for this. He’s sure you felt nervous in the presence of a Jedi because it implied that there was some danger lurking around. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been assigned to his task. What did you know about the terrors of war and the cruel reality of death and destruction? You were just a rich celebrity located within the safe confines of the Galatic Core. Anakin felt a twinge of jealousy at this notion. He knew that he belonged with the Jedi, but Anakin couldn’t help but feel envy at the fact that you were simply an innocent civilian whose daily life was virtually unaffected by the war. You didn’t have to witness violent bloodshed, say goodbye to your comrades, and live life constantly on the move. Sometimes Anakin longed for his days on Tatooine when he lived with his mother and worked in Watto’s workshop. He was a poor slaveboy, but at least he had his mother, and life was relatively peaceful. Before Anakin could harp on these thoughts any longer, he caught a stray thought that didn’t belong to him. 
Kriff, even his voice was attractive! Anakin was sure the thought didn’t belong to Gido, so he could only assume that it belonged to the woman standing in front of him. Anakin internally smirked to himself. Could it be that Anakin made you nervous for reasons other than him being a Jedi? Perhaps…you found Anakin attractive. Anakin didn’t care if you found him attractive, but it did boost his ego a bit. It seems his split from Padme was affecting him more than he thought. Since when did trivial things like this matter? 
Anakin looked over you once more before following Gido to discuss the schedule and plan for the upcoming rotations. 
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Dinner was…awkward, to say the least. It was just you and Anakin eating in your dining room. Gido had some business he needed to attend to so he could not join you for dinner. Anakin insisted that he could eat somewhere else as he did not want to intrude, but you insisted that he eat with you. It was the polite thing to do. But after you insisted that Anakin sat with you, you realized that you had nothing to talk about. A singer and a Jedi Knight turned war general? What would you have in common? A pregnant silence enshrouded you both. Only the soft clinks of silverware could be heard. 
You sipped on your water every few bites to calm your nerves. This was so unlike you! Honestly, you were never one to shy away from anyone’s presence. A part of your job was selling a likable persona to the public–countless interviews, media appearances, meet and greets! You had done these all with grace and a smile. Yet you couldn’t find the proper words to say to the gorgeous man sitting right across from you. Geez, he must think I’m one of those stuck-up celebrities, you chided in your head. You were far from stuck up, but something about Anakin set your nerves on fire and made the social part of your brain feel like mush. Sweat started building up in your armpits as you thought about it. You had to do something to salvage your reputation and stop yourself from sweating through your outfit.
You cleared your throat and looked up from your dinner plate. “So, Anakin. How do you know the Chancellor? I hear you’re friends with him.”
“I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a little boy. We first met when I left my home planet after I was discovered by a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn. He was Naboo’s representative back then.”
“Oh, that's interesting. My family goes way back with the Chancellor too. My father and him studied at the same university on Naboo. Though my father was a few grades below the Chancellor, they became good friends,” you replied. 
Anakin nodded at your story before focusing his attention elsewhere. You internally deflated once you saw he did not seem to care about keeping a conversation. However, if you were going to spend the new few rotations together, you’d rather it not be more awkward than it already was. 
“Uhm, where are you from? You mentioned that you left your home planet. I’m not from Coruscant either! I am from Bar’leth.” 
“Tatooine,” Anakin answered curtly. The way Anakin said Tatooine almost made you think that he disliked his home planet. He didn’t say it with any fondness, or longing. 
“That’s in the Outer Rim, right? I’ve never been. How is it?” you questioned.
“Hot, lawless, and sandy.” Another short answer.
You got the impression that Anakin wasn’t exactly fond of his home planet, so you decided to change the subject of conversation. “You travel a lot as a Jedi. Which has been your favorite planet so far?”
Anakin was silent for a moment before, as if he were thinking deeply about it. In reality, Anakin knew his favorite planet. Naboo. He only paused for a moment because he was unsure if he wanted to reveal this information to you. Though it was seemingly an innocent question (and it was), Anakin felt it was a vulnerable question. Naboo is the planet he spent days frolicking in the lush, romantic meadows with Padme, falling deeper in love with her as the days passed. Naboo represented a part of Anakin that no longer existed–an Anakin that didn’t know the pain of losing a mother, losing a part of himself in the process. When his mother died, gone became the young boy with a golden aura and eyes full of hope. On Naboo, Anakin was still bright and naive with a laughter full of joy and excitement. That Anakin died the day he and Padme set out to find his mother on Tatooine. Anakin wished every day to the Maker that part of him could come back from the dead and replace who he currently was. To better days.
“Naboo. That’s my favorite planet,” answered Anakin. He decided to be truthful instead of responding with a random planet. Anakin didn’t know what compelled him, but he knew you were only being polite. 
“Naboo is beautiful. Though I mainly grew up in Bar’leth, I spent a lot of my childhood summers in Naboo. I don’t think there is any other planet with views as stunning as Naboo,” you revealed. 
You felt that there was nothing else to say. The remainder of the dinner was quiet. Though there wasn’t as much tension as before, it was still awkward. You finished your dinner as quickly as possible before retreating to your personal quarters for the evening. 
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To be continued!
173 notes · View notes
6lostgirl6 · 11 months
Text
Ties That Bind Part 1
Pairing: Yandere!Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder
A/N: I am very excited to be sharing another wonderful collab with the amazing person @britany1997! She has been very supportive and an absolute joy to work with! We have shared many laughs together while working on this fic! She is a very talented writer and friend and you should send her your love! She deserves it! I love you Britany! ❤️
Word Count: 2.3k
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Sweat pooled around Anakin as he sprang forward in bed, gasping in a haze of fear and anger. His head fell to his hands as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sleep had eluded him for months as every night ended the same, with visions of your corpse flashing through his tortured mind. 
Anakin discarded his blanket in frustration, grabbed your picture from his work bench, and sat on the floor to meditate. 
His brow furrowed as he attempted to squash his rage and uncertainty, to let them go and let the force fill him with the comfort he needed. 
But to let go of his emotion, would be to let go of you.
Though he mumbled to himself, ‘there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity,’ he couldn’t make himself believe that. You were his peace, you were his serenity.
He abandoned his meditation in a huff. Anakin liked to think he was a patient man, a good Jedi. Yet how could he sit back and do nothing? The visions would never stop, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Despite his failures at meditating and stopping his mind from whirling, he was struck by a solution. He was deep in concentration, staring at the ground, your picture nestled against his uncovered chest.
The visions would undoubtedly stop if he could protect you and keep you safe from harm. What if the force hadn't been working against him after all? He was immediately filled with purpose, a fire in his eyes that couldn't ever be extinguished. He will defend you even if it means doing the unthinkable and abandoning the Jedi code. 
What other reason would there be besides protecting the one you loved the most, even if it required being selfish? Absolutely nothing was of greater significance than you, his long-time friend, whom he had been pining over for many years. The forbidden feelings he could no longer ignore. There was no greater reason, no other reason, than you. 
It was all for love. 
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Despite the summons from the Chancellor, Anakin thought the Galaxies Opera House was well worth the journey through Coruscant. Though the visions of your impending death haunted him, Squid Lake, a strange ballet performed by a team of Mon Calamari acrobats, calmed his worries and enabled his mind to focus on something far more pleasant. He wished he could take you to one as lovers rather than as companions one day once you are away from harm. The Chancellor, however, required his attention once more.
His eyes were focused ahead as he said, "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power." The Chancellor’s face bore a deep and serious expression.
“The Sith rely on their passion for their strength; they think inwards, only about themselves.” Anakin answered back firmly, turning his head towards him as he spoke.
“And the Jedi don’t?” asked the Chancellor, turning his attention towards Anakin without wavering, his eyes never leaving his face.
“The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.” Anakin spoke strongly, turning his attention forward, just before the Chancellor continued to speak, making Anakin's blood run cold.
“Although they prevent you from loving freely in accordance with your own desires. They would never approve of your love for your friend or the things you would do for her.” He spoke with a voice filled with stomach-churning truth. “Your companion, (Y/N).”
Anakin turned to face the older man, his eyes wide with surprise as he whispered quietly. "How did you know-"
"I know many things, Anakin." He responded. "You say they are selfless and care about others. But what would the council say if they learned of your hidden desires, your affection that you have for your fellow Jedi?" 
For once, Anakin couldn't speak because the Chancellor's words struck him deeply. His eyes were fixed on the opera playing ahead of him as he slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't watching the event, though; instead, he was fixated on his thoughts, his visions of your approaching demise, and the possibility that the council would learn of his feelings for you. They'd shun him. He couldn't save you if they were in the way. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. 
It was the Chancellor's voice that silenced his racing thoughts. 
“You ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise?” 
No, he would not let them stop him from loving you, from saving you.
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Your saber clashed against Anakin’s as you traded swipes back and forth. He smirked as you narrowly missed his shoulder. You stuck out your tongue in reply.
It’d probably be easier to spar with someone else, you and Anakin had trained together as Padawans, practically grown up together. He knew every move you’d make before you could even think to make it. But, unfortunately for him, you could anticipate his every move as well.
You leaped as he swiped his saber at your feet, “missed again Ani,” you teased. You noticed a strange expression cross his face when you uttered his name, but it quickly vanished.
“You’re lucky today,” he smirked, “but luck runs out.” Anakin swiped his foot behind yours, causing you to tumble onto your back, he stood over you, lightsaber pointed towards your chest. 
You groaned, “fine, I yield.”
He chuckled as he switched his weapon off and offered you his arm to pull you to your feet. “Better luck next time?” he teased. 
“Ha ha,” you mumbled humorlessly, as you allowed him to pull you up.
"Let's not pretend you didn't cheat, Ani." You continued jokingly. You leaned over to grab your fallen lightsaber when you failed to notice the unknown expression resurfacing on his face. However, it did not completely disappear, his darkening eyes fixated on your body, images racing through his mind of scenarios unsuitable for a Jedi.
He adored it when you addressed him as such. 
His expression returned to normal as you straightened up, and he had a mischievous smile on his face once again. "Never, ever underestimate your opponent." He chuckled as he extinguished his lightsaber and attached the hilt to his belt.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You replied, the smile refusing to vanish from your expression. 
"Come now; I only tease." Anakin remarked softly, staring at you with a more genuine smile, one that could compete with the sun if he so desired. Since you were both padawans, he has consistently been an enchanting man. He had a way of charming himself out of most trouble and making one's heart feel like it was going to burst.
This was a secret you kept hidden within your heart for many years, the sentiments you had for Anakin that were more than just friendship. However, according to the Jedi code and attachment regulations, you did everything you could to drive those emotions away. Your feelings got less difficult to disguise as you practiced meditation and late-night self-reflection. In addition, you knew in your core that Anakin was an exceptionally gifted Jedi and that your affections for him were never going to be reciprocated. 
“Everything alright?” 
You recovered from your subconscious, glancing at Anakin as he stood directly in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. 
"Yes, I'm sorry." You replied before reactivating your lightsaber, your eyes bright with purpose and your smile returning. "Let's continue."
After many long hours of trading blows, you and Anakin were huffing, your foreheads drenched with sweat. 
“Call it a night?” you asked as Anakin wiped his brow clean. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, “it’s late, want an escort back to your quarters?”
You laughed. He didn’t. 
“No Ani it’s fine,” you promised, “I think I can manage the couple of steps it takes to get there.”
“It’s on my way anyway,” he protested.
You shot him a confused expression, “on your way to where?” 
“To the archives,” he told you nonchalantly, “I needed to look into something.”
Your brow furrowed, “look into what?”
He groaned, tugging gently at your arm, “just let me escort you.”
“Fine, fine,” you reluctantly caved.
He offered you his shoulder, a smirk painted on his face. You scoffed and punched his arm instead, causing a soft laugh to fall from his lips. 
He smiled and shook his head at your stubbornness, you never made anything easy. But it didn’t matter, he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
The walk to your quarters passed quickly as you exchanged stories with Anakin. You clutched your stomach as tears rolled down your cheeks as he told you the story of his last battle with General Grevious. Anakin had spent so much time with Obi Wan over the years, Anakin’s impression of his sarcastic banter was spot on.
“Well this is me,” you joked, gesturing to your door. Anakin nodded but didn’t move to head towards the archives. 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, “…so I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
He seemed to snap from his momentary trance, “yes of course,” Anakin hesitated, “do you need anything else before I go?”
Your head cocked to one side, “no, not really.” 
Walking you to your room had been strange in itself, this was ridiculous. “Ani…” you bit your lip, “are you ok?”
Anakin seemed taken aback by your sudden question, “of course,” he composed himself, “I better be off to the archives, I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
You watched him walk off before slipping into your room. You sat down to meditate, but you couldn’t rid your mind of Anakin’s weird behavior. Something wasn’t right. 
You sighed, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be one with the force tonight and crawling into bed. As you drifted to sleep a thought popped into your head.
Weren’t the archives in the opposite direction?
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Anakin sent a glass flying into his wall in frustration. He watched as it shattered, spraying shards onto the floor around his work desk. 
He threw his head into his hands. He could monopolize your training time, walk you to your quarters every night, wake up early to be at your door every morning.
But it would only take one second, one second where he left you alone, one second where he wasn’t right by your side, one second and you were gone forever. 
If he balled his fists any harder, his fingernails would slice the skin. He knew what he had to do. You might hate him for a moment, but he could live with that.
But if you died? There was no living if not with you.
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The Jedi Temple was destroyed.
Your fellow Jedi were slaughtered in cold blood. 
You could feel your heart frantically beating as you rushed through the halls of pure massacre, the walls forever tarnished by the horrors that had been committed. Fellow Jedi that you’ve trained with are lying on the floor lifeless, and some are in cauterized pieces. You felt like you could throw up at any moment, the hilt of your lightsaber held in your shaky grasp. You were in a state of delirium; your thoughts were filled with dueling lightsabers and people screaming in fear. However, there was one thing that was absolutely certain.
You needed to find Anakin.
‘Please, let him be safe.’ You thought to yourself as you managed to turn a corner, your other hand gripping your ribcage, your heart threatening to explode. ‘By the force, please protect him.’ 
You were anxious to find him, yet filled with dread. Your mind was racing with images of his form in pieces, his eyes lifeless without any warmth. It almost made the journey too much to bear. 
You rounded another corner that led towards the entrance of one of the temple’s many great halls. As you pushed through the entrance, a heavy feeling filled your chest, and you were completely unable to go any further. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your breath failing you. 
As you gazed into the distance, you noticed a familiar figure, clad in a brown robe with a hood covering his face, that you had never failed to recognize, even at a distance. As the figure walked towards you, a large group of clone soldiers followed behind him, weapons drawn. In his hand was his own lightsaber, which he clutched tightly in his grasp.
Anakin.
"Ani!” You cried, disengaging your lightsaber and rushing towards him with tears in your eyes, prepared and ready to meet him with a sense of relief. 
You threw your arms around him, tears rolling down your face as you sobbed. He returned your embrace, arms wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Ani,” you muttered between sobs, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He tightened his grip on your waist, holding you close, “I know what you mean…”
You sniffled as you tried to gather yourself, “Anakin, so many lives…” you hiccuped, “what happened.”
“Only what needed to.”
“What?” you exclaimed as you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The sight of his blood stained face made you gasp. No. This wasn’t the Anakin you knew. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The man you’d carried a torch for all these years, your best friend and confidant, stood before you, clothed in the blood of your friends.
You pushed against his chest, trying to escape from his grasp but he refused to let you go. He held you tightly against him with one arm, using his other hand to brush hair from your face affectionately. A gesture that once would have made you blush now filled you with malice.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will my love,” he whispered, “now sleep.”
“Anakin…no…” you fought a losing battle to keep your eyes open. You were strong in the force, but Anakin was stronger.
Your head lulled to the side as you fell asleep in his arms.
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Taglist:
@prettywhenibleed @leiasolo77 @britany1997 @misslavenderlady @arianamhm @rottent33th @slaasherslut
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readychilledwine · 7 months
Text
Training Tensions
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A second part of Early Mornings (link in masterlist and coming soon) in a way. Showing the beginning of the mateship/courting between Cassian, our illyrian oc (who now has a name), and Nesta. But with a plot twist so I have an excuse for something that may get posted later.
Summary - Nesta can't help falling harder and harder for Irelina. They've been ignoring it for months now, but the dam has to break at some point
Warnings - fxmxf threesome inferred, oral, mentions of a trouple/poly-relationships, husband encouraging someone else to bang his wife (because Cassian is a king), mentions of impact play, wing play, oh and some actually emotionally stuff. It's NSFW but not as spicy as I've been known to post
A/N - I hadn't intended to add to Early Morning much, but when I'm in a writers block, my mind goes back to her, Nesta, and Cassian, and the emotional bond between her and Nesta. So you may occasionally see pieces of them sprinkled between other updates.
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"He's just selfish!" Nesta landed another harsh punch that had Irelina smiling with pride inside despite the stinging in her hands growing. "He just thinks he knows everything," another sharp punch landed on her pad. "And for being able to get into people's heads, he understands nothing." 
The final blow caught her off guard. Nesta pulled a move the young female watched her use while she was sparring with Cassian. A faked right into a left into the stomach. Nesta gasped as she doubled over. Eyes wide in shock as she began to cough. 
"I'm so sorry!" Nesta was at her side, a hand gently touching her back. "I-"
"Don't apologize," she wheezed out. She placed her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths through her nose as Cassian ran over.
"What happened?" Nesta backed away, only for Irelina to reach for her hand and hold her there. Electricity shooting through her at the contact.
"She's a visual learner," is all she said. "She took a fake shot on me and it worked because we had hardly even discussed that yet. I'm so proud of you, Ness."
Nesta's face slightly flushed with the praise before she buried it away. 
-
Training the next day involved her and Nesta in meditation. Focusing on their inner self. "I can feel how unsettled you are. Talk to me." It was a gentle invitation. One Nesta took immediately.
"I just do not understand how you all sat there and did not tell Feyre she would die."
Nesta watched her eyes open. "There was not a single day that went by since I found out that I did not want to tell her. Trust me." Irelina paused, looking towards where Cassian and Azriel were sparring. "It just was not my place. I do agree it was not handled properly, though."
Nesta's mind froze, unprepared to have her feelings validated. "You don't think I'm wrong?"
She shook her head at Nesta, eyes closed again. "I think Rhysand, my dearest brother, should have included his mate and wife in decision making regarding their babe and her body. I feel HE should have told her right away and included her in the search to find solutions."
She opened her eyes, finally looking at Nesta with that gaze that reminded the younger female of molten honey. "I do not think you told her from a place of genuine concern and love, though. That is the only thing I do not believe was handled correctly on your end."
Nesta sook her head. "I do love her, it was concern."
"It is not your love I question, Ness. It's your intention. In your heart, yes, you meant well. In your subconscious, no." Nesta studied the illyrian female, her beautiful face and scarred wings. "I think you are grieving so deeply, Nesta, your heart has begun to be poisoned. You are blinded by your rage and hurt. I understand that heartache." 
"We failed you," she continued. "We failed you, and Elain, multiple times. We failed you when you were forced into that Cauldron, we failed you when you were recovering, we failed you when your father died, and we failed you after the war."
Nesta felt her heart swelling, her eyes beginning to water. She had longed to hear those exact words for nights now.
"I failed you," Irelina said softly. "I failed you when I allowed you to go down the same pathway I did of numbing yourself through booze and sex. I failed you when I wasn't there every day and night holding you. I failed you, and I will never be able to make up for it."
She held her hand to Nesta, then gently laced their fingers together. "Everything you are feeling, little dove, every piece of anger, of longing, of sadness, of self doubt, of absolute burning sheer rage, you are valid in those feelings. You are allowed to feel those feelings." She brought Nesta's hand to her lips, kissing the top of it gently, "it's how we move forward in how you process those feelings, how you let them free, that makes the difference in your soul's peace or turmoil."
-
Nesta was awake before her. Before Azriel and Cassian. Eyes locked in the fire burning in the hearth. Her dreams were haunted by Irelina, but not the way her nightmares had plagued her. 
They were haunted by gentle touches, soft whispered words of love, support, and encouragement. 
They were haunted by memories of the two of them, when Rhys would allow her off her leash and the two of them would spend time reading, finger tips running up and down her arm as Irelina jotted down notes for reports or flipped her horror novel behind her. 
Nesta jumped when soft hands found her waist, a kiss placed on her temple. "Why are you up so early, dove?" She shivered at the sound of her voice laced in sleep. "Want breakfast or coffee? I can steal some tea from Azriel too?"
Nesta's mind flashed to the last time they had breakfast alone, to when Irelina served her coffee and the fluffiest pancakes she had ever had. Nesta had hardly been able to control herself around Irelina and Cassian for weeks after that, but her  rage towards Cassian helped. Her jealousy of hearing him make his wife a begging mess helped. 
"I was wondering if we could not train today?" Nesta asked quietly. "Just take a day to relax, you and me?"
"I'd have to ask Azriel," she said. "But I will work something out with him. Did you want breakfast?"
-
Azriel had not let Nesta out of training. Following his orders to a t, much to both of the females disappointment.
Nesta and Irelina were sparring basic hand to hand and currently locked together. It didn't take her but a spare second to take Nesta to the ground, straddling her hips and pinning her hands above her head. 
Nesta's chest was heaving, her eyes wide and mouth parted slightly.  Irelina's brows scrunched together at the same time Cassian gripped his chest over his heart and Azriel's shoulder. 
She was off Nesta in an instant, moving through the House of Wind as Nesta ran after her. 
She locked herself into the bathroom of her and Cassian's room, sinking against the wall. Nesta jiggled the door handle forehead against the cool wood, "Irelina, let me in." She knocked softly. "Talk to me, please. I know you're scared. I was scared when I felt it too, but you've made me feel so safe, please."
She heard Cassian's footsteps. "Lark? Baby, what's wrong?" Irelin didn't answer. Sitting with her head against the wall, a new silver thread gleaming next to a golden one. She tugged them both before closing the bond down. 
Cassian knew the message, placing a hand around Nesta's shoulders as he saw that pretty silver string too. "Give her a little bit, dove. She's shocked."
"You knew?" Cassian nodded at her question.
"Of course, dove. I knew the second I laid eyes on you in that manor you were mine, ours." Lark and dove, Nesta noted immediately. His little birds. The thought spread warmth through her body. The thought of being his. Of being Irelina's. Of being theirs.
-
Irelina skipped dinner, punching her feelings into one of the spare bags into the early hours of night. 
Nesta could feel her confusion, her excitement, her pain radiating through her hands. 
Cassian and Azriel had left for the evening claiming there was an emergency in Windhaven, and telling Nesta to behave herself while they were gone. Nesta closed her book, walking to the training grounds and sitting to watch Irelina.
She was covered in sweat, muscles and breasts shining in the light of the full moon. She struck the punching bag quick, precise, and repeatedly. She was wearing nothing more than a tight pair of leggings and a bra built for training. Her dark hair was messily braided back with a few pieces framing her high cheekbones. 
Nesta felt her eyes trapped on the muscles flexing in her thighs and arms.  Irelina paused, her head turning to Nesta. She shook whatever thoughts were running through her mind off and went back to beating the punching bag. 
The loud flapping of wings and a soft thud next to Nesta ripped her from the inappropriate place her mind was going. 
"She likes to bathe after doing this," it was an emotionless purr that made Nesta growl. "She likes lilac oils and red wine. Plenty of bubbles."
Nesta glared towards Rhysand. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because Cassian asked me to ensure you took care of her tonight since he won't be here to do it himself. It is your duty, after all, as her mate." Rhysand took off again, flying back to the home he and Feyre were staying in. 
Her mate. The words replayed over and over again like a crescendo in a symphony. Her mate.
-
Nesta prepared a bath for her, pouring the scented oil and wine for both of them, and waited. Irelia froze at the door, already wrapped in a towel. 
Nesta took a step back from the bath, sitting in the vanity chair. "I thought you needed something to help you relax. You don't seem okay lately."
She nodded. "Thank you." She moved toward the tub, stepping shamelessly out of the towel and into the warm water. Nesta was reading her romance novel while Irelina bathed. Her eyes locked on the sultry scene being painted for her between the two female love interests. Her thighs began to squeeze together occasionally, begging for friction. 
Her eyes began to flick to the naked illyrian female. Her breasts were peeking above the water, bubbles hiding the toned body and curves below. 
Nesta was desperate to touch her. To kiss her. To have her. "Your back looks sore," she stated. "Do you want me to come rub it?" 
The scent in the air changed immediately. The lilac oil mixing with something slightly musky. "If you'd like to?"
Nesta swallowed that bit of fear in her bones, moving to the tub behind her and sitting with her legs in the warm water.
The steam in the room was thick as if it was adding to the tension between the two females. Nesta moved her wet dark hair over one shoulder and began rubbing her shoulders.  A soft moan had Nesta almost pausing before moving lower. "Cassian needs to give you a massage," Nesta joked.
"He tries," she laughed out. "He really does. But he gets distracted."
"I can see how." The words came out before Nesta could stop them. They hung in the air like magic. Lingering in their effect on both of them. Irelina turned between Nesta's legs, wet hands trailing her bare right calf. 
"You can't say things like that, Nesta. Our self control with you is already low." She lifted Nesta's long left leg over her shoulder and trailed a few testing kisses up her calf. "There's so many things I long to do to you, Nesta."
The oldest Archeron sister's face had flushed. She pulled her dress up further exposing her legs, then her stomach, then her breasts until it was off and they were both laid bare to each other. "Show me," Nesta whispered. "Show me what you want to do to me."
So Irelina did.
-
Cassian could smell sex in his room the second the door opened. He knew one scent immediately. Pomegranate and currants, his wife. The other a vanilla spicy musk with touches of amber. 
A familiar moan had him hard instantly as he moved mindlessly to the bathroom door. 
The sight behind that door was heaven. Nesta had his mate laid out on the tile bathroom floor, her back arched as her hands tangled in Nesta's freed long hair. 
Nesta had her head between his mate's thighs, tongue and mouth working her timidly but encouraged by each hair pull and breathy gasp. "Like that, Ness, please, fuck." 
Cassian moved the chair Nesta had previously been in, drinking the wine that was opened straight from the bottle. Nesta looked up, seeing him and pausing, ripping a pleading whine to leave his wife's throat. 
"Don't stop on my account," his voice was deep, laced with arousal as he watched Nesta. "Keep going, Ness. Unless you need me to show you how to make that pretty bird sing?"
Nesta's eyes grew dark at the offer. At the thought of learning how to draw the same noises from Irelina the way Cassian did. He smirked, moving to Nesta. He took one of his wife's beautiful legs, placing it over Nesta's shoulder, similar to how she had pulled Nesta apart earlier. "Do to her exactly what you want done to you, Ness." 
So she did, sucking her clit into her mouth and licking that bundle of nerves. 
"Fuck. Please?" Moans turned into whimpers as Irelina pulled Nesta's face further into her heat.
Cassian ran a long finger down Nesta's spine, feeling every bump and ridge. Memorizing every building muscle. Nesta hummed under his touch, sending vibration through his wife causing another crying moan. "Is this okay, Nesta?" She whined in response, arching up for Cassian. "What a beautiful little thing you are, sweetheart. We've wanted you for so long."
"So long," his mate moaned and confirmed. 
-
Nesta woke up between two warm bodies, two sets of wings caging her in like weighted blankets of protection. She turned to her side and traced Irelia's Face and played with her lashes causing the other female to wrinkle her nose and pull her closer. "Did we hurt you?" Nesta shook her head at the sleepy tone from the other female. "This doesn't have to change anything between us, Ness. We can still just cuddle, read, and be friends."
Nesta swallowed thickly. "And if I want more? If I'm ready for more?"
"Then we're more," she whispered. "But he is part of the deal, so you two will need to work on your…. Current relationship." 
"I don't know how."
She ran a hand through Nesta's hair. "Let him train you with me. Stop pushing him away. Talk to him. Cassian can be rough, but once those walls you two seem to fortify around each other melt and bend, you're both these soft creatures needing love and validation. Gentle understanding."
She pulled Nesta to her, kissing her lips softly. Nesta rolled them over carefully, a hand going to Irelia's Delicate wing, making her arch her back. 
"Oh?" Nesta rose a brow. "I thought Feyre was kidding." 
Irelia shook her head quickly. "Pretty serious. Watch." She watched as Irelina danced long limber fingers on the ridge of Cassian's wing. "Get on top of him. Take what's yours, dove. I know you want him back inside of you." She tugged that string, making Nesta gasp. "Shall we turn him to putty?"
Cassian woke up to Nesta on his already hard cock, riding as she kissing Irelina, whose pretty dripping cunt was just in reach of his happily awaiting tongue.
-
Azriel sat with his hands folded at the table as the three of them emerged one by one. The scent of it was overwhelming. The ridiculously pungent bond. The heavy scent of sex.
He rose a brow at Irelina, knowing the female would tell him everything shamelessly to draw jealousy out of him.. "Anything happen while we were gone? Anything I as Nesta's babysitter need to know about."
She rolled her eyes at him, forcing Nesta into her normal seat next to Cassian and taking the spot next to Azriel. 
"You can join us next time if it makes you feel better, Spymaster." Cassian and Nesta's eyes both lit up. "Maybe I'll even let you beat me with a cane or hang me from the ceiling."
Nesta noticed how that immediately got Azriel's attention. His scarred hand flying to Irelina's neck. "You know better than to tease me, little bat." Azriel smirked at the shock on Nesta's face. "Welcome to the throuple, Ness. Excuse me while I go remind this pretty little thing who is actually in charge between the 3 of us." He took Irelina by her neck back up the stairs, whispering in her ear as he moved with her.
Cassian leaned back with a smirk. "Welcome, dove. Might want to start mentally preparing for that one."
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reaper2187 · 7 days
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Wednesday addams x necromancer reader
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It was a dark and stormy night as I made my way through the cemetery. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, the cold air and howling wind sending chills down my spine. I was a necromancer, and the graveyard was my haven. Most people would be afraid to be here alone, but I found solace in the shadows and the voices of the dead.
As I reached the old mausoleum that I called home, I noticed a figure standing in the shadows. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized her. Wednesday Addams, the daughter of the Addams family. I had heard of their eccentricities and their fascination with all things dark and macabre. I never expected to meet one of them in person, let alone have her seek me out.
With a flick of my wrist, the door to the mausoleum creaked open, inviting Wednesday inside. She didn't hesitate, walking past me with a confident stride that intrigued me. As soon as she stepped inside, I closed the door, blocking out the raging storm.
'What brings you here, Wednesday Addams?' I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
'I've heard of your abilities, and I require your assistance,' she replied with a nonchalant shrug.
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her straightforwardness. 'What do you need help with?'
'My family's ancestral spirits have gone silent, and I want to bring them back,' she explained, her voice cold and determined.
I couldn't help but be intrigued. The Addams family was known for their connection to the afterlife, and if their spirits have gone silent, it was a cause for concern. 'Very well, let us begin.'
We spent the next few hours in deep meditation, connecting with the spirit world. Wednesday was a natural, her presence enhancing my abilities. Together, we reached out to the spirits of the Addams family, and we were met with a concerning silence.
'They're not responding,' Wednesday stated with a hint of worry in her voice.
I could feel her frustration and determination to bring her family back. Without hesitating, I reached out to the spirits, pleading with them to return. Slowly, one by one, they began to appear, whispering their concerns and fears to us.
Wednesday listened intently, her face a mask of calm, but her eyes showing a deep understanding. 'We must perform a ritual to appease them,' she said, turning to face me.
I nodded in agreement, and we spent the next few hours gathering the necessary ingredients. As we worked, Wednesday surprised me with her knowledge of ancient rituals and her unwavering determination to bring her family back.
Finally, we were ready. The full moon shone down on us, illuminating the cemetery with an eerie light. As we chanted and performed the ritual, the spirits became restless, their voices growing louder.
And finally, they appeared. The spirits of the Addams family, their forms translucent and ethereal, but powerful nonetheless. They thanked us for bringing them back, and Wednesday's face lit up with joy as she was reunited with her loved ones.
As the spirits began to fade, they left behind a small trinket for each of us as a token of gratitude. Wednesday's was a delicate black rose, while I received a beautiful silver amulet with a skull embossed on it.
'Thank you,' Wednesday said softly, her dark eyes twinkling with gratitude.
'It was my pleasure,' I replied, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. 'You have a powerful connection to the spirits. I believe our paths were meant to cross tonight.'
She nodded, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of vulnerability in her expression. 'I never knew my family's spirits could be silenced. I feared I had lost them forever.'
I put a hand on her shoulder, offering her comfort. 'They are always with you, Wednesday. As long as you remember them and honor their memory, they will never truly be gone.'
Wednesday smiled faintly, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of warmth in her usually stoic demeanor.
'I must go now,' she said, turning to leave. 'But I would like to stay in contact with you.'
I nodded, handing her a small vial of graveyard soil. 'This will help you connect with the spirits whenever you need to.'
Wednesday took the vial with a grateful nod and disappeared into the night. As I watched her go, I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her. She was not the average Addams family member, she was strong, determined, and unapologetically herself.
As I made my way back to my mausoleum, I couldn't shake off the feeling that this encounter with Wednesday Addams was just the beginning of a strange and unexpected friendship. And I couldn't wait to see what other adventures awaited us.
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lightasthesun · 4 months
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I feel like something terrible has happened, she'd said, running up to her Captain to seek out comfort and reassurance; a friend to soothe her worries. But all she had found were tears, rage and trembling hands; a blaster aimed at her head and a voice screaming at her to stay back.
Ahsoka had watched, frozen, as her men—brothers, who had chosen to wear her face as a sign of loyalty—transformed into cold-blooded killers. In a matter of seconds, their force-signatures skinned of all individuality and any sense of free will. When they opened fire upon her she'd defended herself without a second thought. The bodies had fallen whilst she dodged another bolt.
She still doesn't think about their names.
Months had passed since then. Operation Knightfall had ripped the Galaxy of thousands of its brightest souls in one night. The darkness that followed it hardly conceals the blood oozing from various planets and tainting surrounding star systems. The force is a gaping black hole. Nothing left of its radiant embrace to calm her pounding heart. It had left her with stains of darkness—sticking to her like Nubian honey— after the first time, she had tried to submerge herself in meditation. She hasn't touched it since.
Ahsoka sighs.
Breathing in the salty air, she lets her eyes wander across the endless widths of the ocean and clutches the lightsaber shoto to her chest. The Kyber crystal inside whimpers and she shivers.
The screams and whispers of the dying follow her every waking moment. And the corpses—broken on the floor like puppets with their strings cut—haunt her dreams. She's not able to shake the guilt weighing down on her shoulders and she knows she never will be.
The shoto feels hot pressed against her chest. It's painful to hold on to it and if she didn't know any better she would let it fall into the yawning abyss. But she does. She recognizes the stinging sensation of the blisters on her palms for what it is: Phantom Pain.
The crystal carries her memories.
Continue reading
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Note
AITA for yelling at my mom because of incense?💭
( emoji so I can recognise my submission and this is a hella long post so be warned)
So I (16F) really hate smoke. And I mean beyond the regular hate, I mean like the moment I smell smoke I instantly become very, very angry. I'm not sure why exactly, I suspect it might be because I'm on the autism spectrum but I haven't been officially diagnosed so take this with a grain of salt. Also just to clarify, I have no lung issues which would cause me to be extra effected by smoke, it's almost entirely psychological.
My mom (50F) got into this whole spiritual circle stuff about a year ago and does meditation thingies. Involves a lot of rituals, crystals and incense. Not entirely sure the exact reason why but the important thing is this means she is lighting incense almost everyday. As a result, on most days the house smells like smoke. I have told her quite a few times to ventilate properly if she's going to use it but I feel like every time I enter the main room of the house it smells like smoke. However I can manage this by simply shutting my door to avoid getting a lungful of smoke. No, the thing that pisses me off are her "cleansing sessions." This is where she goes through the house waving an incense stick everywhere to "purify the bad spirits." This means I have absolutely nowhere in the house to escape from the smoke and often get forced outside to escape. I have tolerated these "cleansing sessions" a few times but on the most recent one, it happened to be raining extremely heavily. This meant that I was stuck. In a house FILLED with the smell of smoke.
I tried to keep myself calm for a while by ventilating the smoke from under a blanket but even then I could still smell it and it made me raging mad. So I then proceeded to stomp up to my mom and yelled at her. I said some very nasty things which I'm not proud of saying. They were very personal insults mostly pertaining to how her beliefs were bullshit and about her insecurities. We had a shouting match over it which ended in her telling me to go back to my room.
Why I think I could be the asshole here is because:
A. I could have more clearly stated beforehand that I wanted her to stop cleansing my room or at the very least she needs to turn the aircon on when she burns incense.
B. She didn't really deserve the things I said to her. She's a sensitive person and I know it probably deeply hurt her even if she didn't act like it in the moment.
C. I didn't mention it earlier but I have a brother (17M) who has athsma. He has never had any problem breathing or any complaints about my mom burning incense. If anyone would be affected by this the most it would be him and yet he doesn't care. So I feel like I just really overreacted.
Why I think I might not be the asshole here is because:
A. I have asked her before that she ventilate the house properly when she does her meditations and yet every time I can smell it. Sometimes she wont even open the windows so I have to do it myself.
B. She knows how much I dislike the smell of smoke. I have said multiple times how I hate it and every time I have smelt it in the house I've been very obviously annoyed. There was even once incident where our neighbours were having a bonfire and I literally could not sleep in my room because I could smell smoke and had to sleep on the couch. Every time she's done one of these "spiritual cleansings" I have also made it abundantly clear how much I hate this but she doesn't seem to care because it usually forces me outside.
C. As before mentioned, my brother has athsma. While it may not seem like it bothers him I don't know what the long term consequences may be for his lungs. And for my lungs too! Like, I'm not an expert but I don't think regularly breathing in smoke is very good for you. She argues it's "real natural smoke" so it's fine and I told her she should try breathing near a wildfire to see how she liked "real natural smoke."
Anyways, with all these facts considered, random strangers on the internet, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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britany1997 · 11 months
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Ties That Bind
Part One
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Yandere Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi Reader
Surprise y’all! I’m so incredibly excited to share part one of this collab fic with @6lostgirl6 !!!! Sixx and I put equal work into this so please go and show her some love! I loved working with my bestie on this it was so fun and she’s so kind and encouraging❤️
Warnings: general yandere behavior, mentions of deaths
Dividers from @6lostgirl6
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Sweat pooled around Anakin as he sprang forward in bed, gasping in a haze of fear and anger. His head fell to his hands as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sleep had eluded him for months as every night ended the same, with visions of your corpse flashing through his tortured mind. 
Anakin discarded his blanket in frustration, grabbed your picture from his work bench, and sat on the floor to meditate. 
His brow furrowed as he attempted to squash his rage and uncertainty, to let them go and let the force fill him with the comfort he needed. 
But to let go of his emotion, would be to let go of you.
Though he mumbled to himself, ‘there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity,’ he couldn’t make himself believe that. You were his peace, you were his serenity.
He abandoned his meditation in a huff. Anakin liked to think he was a patient man, a good Jedi. Yet how could he sit back and do nothing? The visions would never stop, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Despite his failures at meditating and stopping his mind from whirling, he was struck by a solution. He was deep in concentration, staring at the ground, your picture nestled against his uncovered chest.
The visions would undoubtedly stop if he could protect you and keep you safe from harm. What if the force hadn't been working against him after all? He was immediately filled with purpose, a fire in his eyes that couldn't ever be extinguished. He will defend you even if it means doing the unthinkable and abandoning the Jedi code. 
What other reason would there be besides protecting the one you loved the most, even if it required being selfish? Absolutely nothing was of greater significance than you, his long-time friend, whom he had been pining over for many years. The forbidden feelings he could no longer ignore. There was no greater reason, no other reason, than you. 
It was all for love. 
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Despite the summons from the Chancellor, Anakin thought the Galaxies Opera House was well worth the journey through Coruscant. Though the visions of your impending death haunted him, Squid Lake, a strange ballet performed by a team of Mon Calamari acrobats, calmed his worries and enabled his mind to focus on something far more pleasant. He wished he could take you to one as lovers rather than as companions one day once you are away from harm. The Chancellor, however, required his attention once more.
His eyes were focused ahead as he said, "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power." The Chancellor’s face bore a deep and serious expression.
“The Sith rely on their passion for their strength; they think inwards, only about themselves.” Anakin answered back firmly, turning his head towards him as he spoke.
“And the Jedi don’t?” asked the Chancellor, turning his attention towards Anakin without wavering, his eyes never leaving his face.
“The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.” Anakin spoke strongly, turning his attention forward, just before the Chancellor continued to speak, making Anakin's blood run cold.
“Although they prevent you from loving freely in accordance with your own desires. They would never approve of your love for your friend or the things you would do for her.” He spoke with a voice filled with stomach-churning truth. “Your companion, (Y/N).”
Anakin turned to face the older man, his eyes wide with surprise as he whispered quietly. "How did you know-"
"I know many things, Anakin." He responded. "You say they are selfless and care about others. But what would the council say if they learned of your hidden desires, your affection that you have for your fellow Jedi?" 
For once, Anakin couldn't speak because the Chancellor's words struck him deeply. His eyes were fixed on the opera playing ahead of him as he slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't watching the event, though; instead, he was fixated on his thoughts, his visions of your approaching demise, and the possibility that the council would learn of his feelings for you. They'd shun him. He couldn't save you if they were in the way. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. 
It was the Chancellor's voice that silenced his racing thoughts. 
“You ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise?” 
No, he would not let them stop him from loving you, from saving you.
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Your saber clashed against Anakin’s as you traded swipes back and forth. He smirked as you narrowly missed his shoulder. You stuck out your tongue in reply.
It’d probably be easier to spar with someone else, you and Anakin had trained together as Padawans, practically grown up together. He knew every move you’d make before you could even think to make it. But, unfortunately for him, you could anticipate his every move as well.
You leaped as he swiped his saber at your feet, “missed again Ani,” you teased. You noticed a strange expression cross his face when you uttered his name, but it quickly vanished.
“You’re lucky today,” he smirked, “but luck runs out.” Anakin swiped his foot behind yours, causing you to tumble onto your back, he stood over you, lightsaber pointed towards your chest. 
You groaned, “fine, I yield.”
He chuckled as he switched his weapon off and offered you his arm to pull you to your feet. “Better luck next time?” he teased. 
“Ha ha,” you mumbled humorlessly, as you allowed him to pull you up.
"Let's not pretend you didn't cheat, Ani." You continued jokingly. You leaned over to grab your fallen lightsaber when you failed to notice the unknown expression resurfacing on his face. However, it did not completely disappear, his darkening eyes fixated on your body, images racing through his mind of scenarios unsuitable for a Jedi.
He adored it when you addressed him as such. 
His expression returned to normal as you straightened up, and he had a mischievous smile on his face once again. "Never, ever underestimate your opponent." He chuckled as he extinguished his lightsaber and attached the hilt to his belt.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You replied, the smile refusing to vanish from your expression. 
"Come now; I only tease." Anakin remarked softly, staring at you with a more genuine smile, one that could compete with the sun if he so desired. Since you were both padawans, he has consistently been an enchanting man. He had a way of charming himself out of most trouble and making one's heart feel like it was going to burst.
This was a secret you kept hidden within your heart for many years, the sentiments you had for Anakin that were more than just friendship. However, according to the Jedi code and attachment regulations, you did everything you could to drive those emotions away. Your feelings got less difficult to disguise as you practiced meditation and late-night self-reflection. In addition, you knew in your core that Anakin was an exceptionally gifted Jedi and that your affections for him were never going to be reciprocated. 
“Everything alright?” 
You recovered from your subconscious, glancing at Anakin as he stood directly in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. 
"Yes, I'm sorry." You replied before reactivating your lightsaber, your eyes bright with purpose and your smile returning. "Let's continue."
After many long hours of trading blows, you and Anakin were huffing, your foreheads drenched with sweat. 
“Call it a night?” you asked as Anakin wiped his brow clean. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, “it’s late, want an escort back to your quarters?”
You laughed. He didn’t. 
“No Ani it’s fine,” you promised, “I think I can manage the couple of steps it takes to get there.”
“It’s on my way anyway,” he protested.
You shot him a confused expression, “on your way to where?” 
“To the archives,” he told you nonchalantly, “I needed to look into something.”
Your brow furrowed, “look into what?”
He groaned, tugging gently at your arm, “just let me escort you.”
“Fine, fine,” you reluctantly caved.
He offered you his shoulder, a smirk painted on his face. You scoffed and punched his arm instead, causing a soft laugh to fall from his lips. 
He smiled and shook his head at your stubbornness, you never made anything easy. But it didn’t matter, he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
The walk to your quarters passed quickly as you exchanged stories with Anakin. You clutched your stomach as tears rolled down your cheeks as he told you the story of his last battle with General Grevious. Anakin had spent so much time with Obi Wan over the years, Anakin’s impression of his sarcastic banter was spot on.
“Well this is me,” you joked, gesturing to your door. Anakin nodded but didn’t move to head towards the archives. 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, “…so I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
He seemed to snap from his momentary trance, “yes of course,” Anakin hesitated, “do you need anything else before I go?”
Your head cocked to one side, “no, not really.” 
Walking you to your room had been strange in itself, this was ridiculous. “Ani…” you bit your lip, “are you ok?”
Anakin seemed taken aback by your sudden question, “of course,” he composed himself, “I better be off to the archives, I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
You watched him walk off before slipping into your room. You sat down to meditate, but you couldn’t rid your mind of Anakin’s weird behavior. Something wasn’t right. 
You sighed, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be one with the force tonight and crawling into bed. As you drifted to sleep a thought popped into your head.
Weren’t the archives in the opposite direction?
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Anakin sent a glass flying into his wall in frustration. He watched as it shattered, spraying shards onto the floor around his work desk. 
He threw his head into his hands. He could monopolize your training time, walk you to your quarters every night, wake up early to be at your door every morning.
But it would only take one second, one second where he left you alone, one second where he wasn’t right by your side, one second and you were gone forever. 
If he balled his fists any harder, his fingernails would slice the skin. He knew what he had to do. You might hate him for a moment, but he could live with that.
But if you died? There was no living if not with you.
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The Jedi Temple was destroyed.
Your fellow Jedi were slaughtered in cold blood. 
You could feel your heart frantically beating as you rushed through the halls of pure massacre, the walls forever tarnished by the horrors that had been committed. Fellow Jedi that you’ve trained with are lying on the floor lifeless, and some are in cauterized pieces. You felt like you could throw up at any moment, the hilt of your lightsaber held in your shaky grasp. You were in a state of delirium; your thoughts were filled with dueling lightsabers and people screaming in fear. However, there was one thing that was absolutely certain.
You needed to find Anakin.
‘Please, let him be safe.’ You thought to yourself as you managed to turn a corner, your other hand gripping your ribcage, your heart threatening to explode. ‘By the force, please protect him.’ 
You were anxious to find him, yet filled with dread. Your mind was racing with images of his form in pieces, his eyes lifeless without any warmth. It almost made the journey too much to bear. 
You rounded another corner that led towards the entrance of one of the temple’s many great halls. As you pushed through the entrance, a heavy feeling filled your chest, and you were completely unable to go any further. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your breath failing you. 
As you gazed into the distance, you noticed a familiar figure, clad in a brown robe with a hood covering his face, that you had never failed to recognize, even at a distance. As the figure walked towards you, a large group of clone soldiers followed behind him, weapons drawn. In his hand was his own lightsaber, which he clutched tightly in his grasp.
Anakin.
"Ani!” You cried, disengaging your lightsaber and rushing towards him with tears in your eyes, prepared and ready to meet him with a sense of relief. 
You threw your arms around him, tears rolling down your face as you sobbed. He returned your embrace, arms wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Ani,” you muttered between sobs, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He tightened his grip on your waist, holding you close, “I know what you mean…”
You sniffled as you tried to gather yourself, “Anakin, so many lives…” you hiccuped, “what happened.”
“Only what needed to.”
“What?” you exclaimed as you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The sight of his blood stained face made you gasp. No. This wasn’t the Anakin you knew. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The man you’d carried a torch for all these years, your best friend and confidant, stood before you, clothed in the blood of your friends.
You pushed against his chest, trying to escape from his grasp but he refused to let you go. He held you tightly against him with one arm, using his other hand to brush hair from your face affectionately. A gesture that once would have made you blush now filled you with malice.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will my love,” he whispered, “now sleep.”
“Anakin…no…” you fought a losing battle to keep your eyes open. You were strong in the force, but Anakin was stronger.
Your head lulled to the side as you fell asleep in his arms.
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Taglist❤️:
@misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @arbesa-mind @hallotonia @anna1306 @bookworm551 @flower-crowned-lady @bloodywickedvamp @lostboys1987girl @kurt-nightcrawler @dwaynedelight @rynsfandomsfun @ghoulgeousimmaculate @walmartfairy69 @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @warrior-616 @ria-coolgirl
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aaeeart · 11 months
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He's a bit upset
There's a fanfic hidden bellow.
Quick need to know, this a part of my Inquisitor Kanan AU, Kanan is among other things convinced that his crew is dead and when he does come across them he believes they're a force vision and a part of some form of elaborate torture made by the Inquisitors.
Now let's say at some point he got rescued...
Hera lingered in the doorway of Kanan's cabin, a place she had stood countless times since he was taken. Fearful of entering, she hesitated, her unease only amplified by the room now being occupied once again. Kanan sat huddled in a corner, on the frigid ground between his bed and meditation seat. He didn't meet her gaze, his form slouched, elbows resting on his knees, eyes tightly shut. He could have been sleeping.
"What?" His words sliced through the air, icy and detached. Hera swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, and stepped into the cabin.
"Kanan," she said softly. A flicker of surprise crossed her face as he opened his eyes and met her gaze, if only for a fleeting moment. Immense sadness shimmered within his yellow irises before he shuttered them once more.
"Leave me alone," he whispered, his head sinking low as he clenched his teeth. The urge to rush to him and offer solace tugged at Hera, but she heeded Ahsoka's counsel. They needed time for the Jedi to heal. Instead, she settled herself by the open door.
"Do you know where you are?"
Kanan snorted in response. "Good one."
"You're on the Ghost," Hera said, her brow furrowing. "You're home."
"I don't understand why you all think it's necessary," he muttered, raising his head to fix his gaze on the opposing wall.
"You're with your friends, with me," Hera pressed on. "You're safe."
"Stop it, will you?" Kanan growled, his fists clenching tightly.
"Stop what?" Hera asked, her confusion genuine.
"You can't deceive me again, and you know it," Kanan declared. "You've already made me do what you want, I'm not playing this game anymore."
"Kanan..." Abruptly, he turned, his piercing yellow eyes locking onto her green ones. A shiver coursed through Hera's spine. She never wanted him to regard her with such intensity, as if he yearned for nothing more than to tear her apart.
Hera could feel her heart wrench as Kanan dismissed her. She understood he had endured torment, likes of which she likely wouldn't be able to imagine, nor would she want to.
He spoke of them as if they were a trick of light, a speck of dust in his vision that would disappear if he so much as blinked and spoke to them as if they were someone he despised.
She couldn't bear to see him suffer alone. Not when she still felt responsible for it.
Hera met Kanan's gaze head-on. "Kanan, please, listen to me," she implored, her voice laced with urgency and sincerity and she hoped, kindness in the truth of her words. "I swear to you, you're safe. We're not your enemies. We're your family."
Kanan's brow furrowed, his eyes burning with anger. "You expect me to believe that?" His voice trembled with a mix of fear and frustration. But a sarcastic smirk curled on his lips as he continued. "What's the plan this time? You gonna make me shed a tear for the good old times? Maybe have a heart-to-heart with my padawan? Sorry, but I'm not biting."
Hera's determination hardened as she refused to back down. "I know it's difficult, Kanan. But look at us. Look at me. It's me." she said, her voice unwavering. She extended her arm. "You can tell, Kanan."
Kanan's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He was clearly torn between the lies of the Inquisitors and the longing to believe in the safety of his friends. An inner battle raged behind his eyes.
Hera longed to see the blue green color of the tormented gaze...
Kanan slowly reached out to her.
Hera smiled with relief.
Then she felt a tightening pressure wrapping itself around Hera's throat. She gasped for air, her eyes pleading with him.
"Enough!" he bellowed, his voice laced with bitterness and sorrow. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or someone. "Show yourself! You've done it! So end it!"
Alarmed by the loud outburst, the rest of the Ghost crew stormed into the cabin. "Hera!" Sabine exclaimed, watching their captain suspended in mid-air.
"Kanan, let her go!" Zeb shouted.
Hera dared a look at the broken jedi and saw him looking straight at her, his face tightened in a mixture of fear, sadness and uncertainty. She attempted to say his name, but all that came out was a choked gasp.
"Kanan!"
Kanan's grip faltered, the anger dissipating as a flicker of recognition ignited within his eyes when Ezra spoke. With backwards stumble, he released Hera, his hand falling to his side. His shoulders slumped, burdened by his inner turmoil.
The three sentients gathered around Hera, helping her sit up. Chopper however rolled towards Kanan and shoving into his leg, spitting out curses in binary. Kanan watched the droid with an empty bewilderment.
"Chopper, stop it!" Hera snapped at the astromech.
Kanan looked at the Twi'lek, wide eyed, tears lining his vision. Clearly fighting with himself, Kanan whispered her name in a very weak voice.
"It's us, mate," Zeb assured him.
Kanan gave him a distracted look, then glanced at Sabine, Ezra, and finally at Chopper, who returned to Hera's side. A tear slid down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, looking down, waiting for something.
Hera rose to her feet and took a step towards the jedi, ignoring the warning looks from the others.
She extended her hand towards him a second time.
This time she thought she saw flicker of teal in his eyes as their hands met.
TBC...
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hollyhomburg · 3 months
Note
Would it be possible to get a teeny tiny snippet of the next chapter if possible pretty please 🫶🏼
Ah alright! Just for a special treat! this is from very near the beginning before shit hits the fan.
Chapter 66 (sneak peak)
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet, you take one step and then another, behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away- before the pack came to live here, to love here. it took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them smooth enough to his liking. and days more of brown black dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it. Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same intent.  
You won’t let it become a grave, you won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill, it’s not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill, emotionless and analytic. no way to do it perfectly or cleanly.
It’s only a matter of /rage/.
It’s always been this way, rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger and Geumjae's head exploded. From the moment you said ‘I do’.  Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away. There is no running from the things that hurt you sometimes and you don't think of running now as you watch the man flick the safety of the gun off, unaware that he has an audience.
Rage has eaten you and now, you're the one whose hungry.
Right now, there are only three words running through your head; How dare she.
(dun dun Dun~)
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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 7 months
Text
Day 1: Beginning/End
The Empire of Samadhi AU
Pt. 1 (you are here) | Pt. 2 |
(This is day 1 of the Monkie Destiny Challenge Prompt Month October 2023)
Wordcount: 2k
Summary: Red Son is the son of an old empire, Mei is the daughter of a new one. Red Son, consumed by fire, was put into an induced stasis sleep to stop the world from burning until his family can find a way to safely remove the fire. They find a way but he never wakes up. Hundreds of years later he awakes to discover his power resides within another as she stares at him with wide eyes on fire. 
When Red Son met the heir to the Dragon Empire of the Western Sea, it was the beginning of the end. 
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Red Son remembered the smell of fire melting flesh, more horrid than anything he’d experienced before. He remembered burning his mothers and his fathers hands. He remembered laughing. He remembered screaming. 
Red Son was born a prince and he was born with fire. 
Like him, his power had been small to begin with. His Father’s Empire was a warring one. It was how it came to be. He was a Warlord who became an Emperor and his wife, Red Son’s mother was the princess of a distant empire that he failed to conquer, partially due to Red Son’s mother herself. Red Son was their son, the heir to the throne and future emperor. 
“You must be strong,” his father told him after every tale of conquest. “For when you rule, there will be those who oppose your authority. You must take it. They can do nothing to you if you are more powerful than those that seek to destroy you.” 
It had never been Red Son’s intention to be consumed by his quest for power. It had begun like any other learning did, with scrolls and lectures and teachings and teachers. The flame alight inside him grew brighter and brighter with every meditation, every new technique and lesson learned. It grew in heat and size until he could feel it down to his fingers, heat coursing through him and roaring. He sought more and more, at the beginning, dragging himself forward by sheer force of will until there was a shift and his fire suddenly pushed him forward, propelling him into greatness, into conquest, into the raging inferno of power.
A power that grew too quickly and soon consumed him and everyone around him as well. Until his parents voices were muffled and faces were blurred by heat and flame and he heard nothing but the tearing chants of flame; consume, consume, consume. 
Voices muffled, his laughter loud as their chains melted before they could touch him. Fire could not be contained, it was everything. They could not put it out. 
They could not put it out, but they could lock it away, and him with it. 
“I swear to you,” his father said. “I will return for you.” 
His hands were the last thing Red Son felt before he ceased to exist. 
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When he awoke, he knew something was wrong. 
He was cold.  
Never in his life had he felt cold. Never in his life had he existed without a burning in his chest and a warmth in his core. But he awoke and his chest was gaping and empty. But his mind was clear. Clearer than it had been in a long time. The settled feeling of his fire within him was absent. Gone. He could tell it wasn’t inside him any longer. But he could feel its presence nearby. 
Warmth hovered just close enough to brush his skin. He heard the crackling of flame. 
His eyes snapped open. 
Wide fire filled eyes stared back. 
Whoever it was in front of him was engulfed in flame. 
“Help,” she choked out.  
“What have you done?” was the first thing out of his mouth. His voice sounded raspy, dry, the words rusty and unfamiliar. 
The cave behind her was on fire. Everything, absolutely everything, was engulfed in flame. The roaring fire filled his vision and licked at his clothes and over his skin. None of it stuck to him, none of it could burn. The flames still knew him. They wrapped around him and he heard their recognition, their greeting, their call. 
He looked at the soul in front of him, engulfed in his flame and he recognized a part of himself inside it that was causing the flames to stick to her skin.  
He grabbed her face and reached out with his will to hers, grabbing hold of his fire inside her and reigning it in, wrapping it in a net of his mind and will and pushing it down. 
It was easier than he remembered. Something had changed. 
…He had changed. 
She made a choking noise, eyes wide and tears evaporating before they had a chance to run down her cheeks. 
“Breath, you fool,” Red Son said. 
She gasped. 
The fire around them died, the flames fluttering away to nothing, and without another word the woman lost consciousness falling into him. 
Red Son was left with an unconscious person in his arms, the smell of ash and stone surrounding him, and the blackened cavern empty aside from the two of them. 
His mouth was dry. 
He coughed a few times before bothering to exit his small Red-Son-shaped hole carved out in the stone. There were spells carved into the stone around it, likely what had sealed him in. 
He managed to drag them both out of the cave. With one arm around her waist and the other around her wrist ensuring the arm slung over his shoulders wouldn’t slip he staggered forward. His legs felt unreliable, unused, unsteady. His body shook and he found himself ravenously hungry. He reached the surface and found nothing but ashes. 
It was a level of devastation that challenged anything he’d ever done. Everything was burnt, there was nothing but a wide expanse of blackened dirt in sight. No trees, no hills, no people as far as the eye could see. The sun was clouded out by smoke, sky appearing orange and making it hard to tell the time. The horizon was lit with a distant ember of what he was sure had to be a raging fire if he could see it from such a distance away. He gripped the woman’s wrist tightly. 
“What,” he hissed out, “happened here.” 
Silence and smouldering ashes were all that met his ears. 
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Mei woke up feeling as though there had been a fire in her throat. Scratchy dry and aching. Every part of her felt like she’d sat in front of a fire for too long and been cooked part-way. It was a nice feeling when she spent time with her great-great-great-a-thousand-times-great-great Grandfather… but right now it was a reminder of what had happened to make her feel so. 
Fire. 
She could still feel it, burning in her chest. The rings floated above her head, slowly circling, almost threatening in their movement. Their power was clear and heavy, weighing down and nearly vibrating with the barely contained inferno. 
The inferno that destroyed her home. 
She watched her tears evaporate into mist that floated up above her and faded away into nothing. 
For a moment, she wished the flames had consumed her too. 
“Oh, wonderful, you’re awake,” came a voice dripping with a disgusting sarcasm. 
Mei jolted upright, the rings catching fire above her with her alarm. Panic shot through her and she reached up to try and put them out. 
“Don’t touch those, idiot. You’ll just make it worse.” 
Her head snapped to look at him. 
And there he stood. 
The Demon of Samadhi, his hair redder than a summer sunset, his eyes sharper than flint and steel, his arms crossed over his chest, and a sour expression on his face. Mei had thought she had dreamed it up, stumbling to the caverns she used to explore as a child, drawn by curiosity she’d thought at the time, but now knew was something different, with ashes and smoke trailing behind her rock melting under her feet until she’d drawn close and the spells surrounding his tomb had melted too and his face had come into view. Aside from his hair and clothes from another era, he looked like a normal person. 
“You should be dead,” he said, like he was disappointed she wasn’t. 
 The flame in her flickered with her annoyance. 
“And you should be quiet,” she snapped back.
“Insolent-” He looked like he was a moment away from bursting into flame, seething at her, but there was none of the fabled fire flickering in his eyes, they remained cold and empty. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to-?” 
“Listen, buddy,” Mei interrupted him. He made a sound close to a squawk and she ignored him. “It's been a long day, okay? So if you could just tell me where we are before I barbecue you, that would be great.” 
He scoffed again. “Your threats are meaningless, girl. That’s my fire you have there. It can’t hurt me, I made it.” 
She glanced up at the rings. Then back down at him. 
“You know,” she said. “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” 
The offence on his face almost made her laugh. 
“Were it not for the fact you are the current vessel for my fire, I would kill you here and now.” 
“Yeah,” Mei said, “good luck with that buddy.” She groaned as she pushed herself to her feet and stood up, stretching. The rings flickered. She glanced at them. “Why don’t you just take your fire back and I’ll be on my way, huh?” 
He was silent.
She looked at him. 
He tsked, looking away sharply. “I already tried that, peasant.” 
Mei blinked. “What do you mean you already tried?” 
“While you were sleeping I attempted to pull it from you. My will alone is not enough to remove it from its current vessel. It’s stubborn.” 
Mei barked out a laugh. “The big and powerful Demon of Samadhi can’t take his own fire back?” 
“What nonsense-?” He bristled. “I don’t know how but it seems attached to you. I don’t know how you managed to fasten it to you so thoroughly in so little time, but I assure you, I will find a way to take it back.” 
“Yeah, sure, whatever, guy,” Mei said, glancing around them. They weren’t in the cavern anymore. They were out in the open and there was… 
Nothing. 
Something big seemed to lodge in Mei’s chest. 
There was nothing but ashes. 
In the distance there was a glow of fire. 
“I have to stop it.” She wasn’t sure when she had started hyperventilating, but now she was gasping, staggering forward towards the fire. It seemed to get brighter.
“Stop that,” hissed the Demon of Samdhi, grabbing her wrist. “You’re making it worse-” 
His hand around her wrist burned. 
Rings surrounding her, triggered by a spell, a dormant fire lighting inside her and consuming everything, people screaming Mei screaming. 
She gasped and ripped her hand away. 
The Demon of Samadhi took a step back, arm raised almost defensively. He stared at her, slightly more cautious now. 
“How long have you had my fire…?” 
She blinked. “I…” 
“How long have you had it?” he asked again--demanded. 
“I don’t know,” she stammered. “Not long? A few days?” 
“No, I'm not asking when it was triggered,” he grabbed the front of her shirt and dragged her closer to snarl at her, “I’m asking how long you've had it.” 
Mei could only stare at him for a moment, too caught off guard to break his wrist for grabbing her. 
Abruptly the Demon of Samadhi released her shirt and started pacing back and forth. He ran his hand through his hair. He looked… unsettled. Furious. 
“One of my ancestors had it before me,” Mei said slowly. “I think I inherited it-” 
His head whipped around to look at her. “Your ancestor?” His eyes were wide, angry. 
…Afraid. 
“You…” Mei suddenly realized that if the myths were true… the Demon of Samadhi would have no idea how long he’d been sealed away.
He glowered at her. “I what?”  
“I should introduce myself,” said Mei, straightening up. “I am Lóng Xiǎo Jiāo , First Princess of the Dragon Empire of the West Sea, descendant of Áo Liè of the Dragon Clan who sealed away the Demon of Samdhi’s fire, placing a piece of it inside of himself, like, I dunno, a couple hundred years ago? It was passed down, unknown to his family, until it came to me. 
“And you,” she finished, "are the Demon of Samadhi.” 
The Demon of Samdhi stared at her. “What.” 
“You got anything to eat?” Mei asked.
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materassassino · 6 months
Text
Patrimony
From the DinLuke Server prompt of the same word.
Luke reaches the end of his tether, and Ahsoka gets yelled at, as she deserves.
------
Luke feels out of his depth.
Everyone seems to know more than him.
“We didn’t used to do it like that,” Cal says, frowning.
“Oh, Kanan told me it was done this way,” Ezra says, flippant.
“That’s not how the Jedi teach,” Ahsoka says, disapproving.
“I don’t remember anything about that,” Reva says, dismissive.
“I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN APPROVED OF,” Gungi says, uncertain.
“Are you sure you want to do it that way?” Ezra asks, wincing, and Luke has had it.
He likes to think he’s left his rashness behind. He’s matured, he’s fully mastered his emotions. But even his patience can’t last forever.
He whips around to Ezra, shoulders set, face a mask of fury.
“You run this karking Order then!” he snarls. “If you’re all so much wiser than I am! Run it yourselves!”
And he storms off, blood hammering in his ears. He’s surprised he only said that, and not something so much worse, which was exactly what he wanted to. He stomps away from the little compound they’ve made, their temporary temple, and out into the streets of Sundari.
His boots pound the pavement as he tries to get as far away as possible, and Mandalorians quickly get out of his way, staring at him as he passes. He doesn’t care. All he can hear in his head is reproach, remonstration, criticism, dismissal. What do you even think you’re doing? the voices in his head demand, jeering at him. You don’t know anything!
Of course he doesn’t know anything, he thinks bitterly. He’s found himself in one of the little parks, a residential area, and he throws himself beneath a tree that still needs time to grow. No one told him anything. His masters were forging a weapon, not a Jedi. He didn’t even know what a Jedi was until he was nineteen! And they had the gall to call him the last, as if there weren’t people out there, people the same as him, who could have guided him from the start. They didn’t even attempt to remake the Order, and now they come here, judging every wrong step he takes without offering to teach him the dance in the first place.
He refuses to meditate, even though that would be the correct, Jedi thing to do. But he doesn’t want to be a Jedi just then. He doesn’t. He wants to drop everything and just run to the farthest corner of the galaxy where no one has even heard of the Force. Sithspit, even Tatooine would be better than this, right now.
What is he even trying to do, anyway? Maybe the Order would be better off dead and buried. What would the galaxy even gain, if he succeeded?
“May I sit?”
Luke hears the silver bells in the Force, their resonant chimes, and he scowls.
“What do you want?” he demands, not even looking up.
Ahsoka, wisely, chooses not to sit, because Luke would simply stand and then march off again.
“To discuss, perhaps,” she says, mild and supercilious and it grates on Luke’s nerves like metal scraping against metal, the hulls of two ships colliding. He surges to his feet, and her height doesn’t intimidate him – frankly, he’s faced taller, and meaner, and uglier.
“What’s to discuss? How I’m destroying everything? Ruining the legacy of the Jedi?!”
“Rage doesn’t—”
“Shut up, Ahsoka!” he snaps, and she does, her mouth clamping shut like he’s cast a spell on her. “You’re the worst of them all! Always needling, always criticising! You waltz in here whenever you want, proclaiming you’re not even a Jedi, and then proceed to tear everything apart because it’s not to your exacting, aloof standards!”
Luke breathes deeply through his nose, and instantly regrets everything he’s said. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I’m tired,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady, “of everything I do being worthless.”
Ahsoka is quiet. “Luke,” she says, and finally there’s some emotion in her voice after it’s been so distant all the time, “it’s not. You’re… you’re trying to do everything on your own. You’re exhausted, you’re barely at home.”
She reaches out, cautious, like he’s a cornered, wounded animal that might bite, and gently her hand settles on his shoulder. Viciously he contemplates shrugging her off, but that just feels petty. He simply glances at her hand, and then at her.
“We know how much this means to you,” she says. “How much is at stake. You’ve done so much and you’ve done it by yourself.”
He scoffs at her.
She frowns. “It’s not just your legacy, Luke. You can’t carry it alone.”
“I’m not trying to!” he says through gritted teeth. “I was never trying to! I need help, not constant belittlement!”
Ahsoka sighs. “I… I think some of us are afraid,” she says. “We’re afraid it might be too distant from what we knew, even if we barely knew anything in the first place.” She removes her hand and sits, cross-legged, rubbing her arms. She looks much younger than she is, in that moment. “The world we knew is gone, and it’s been gone so long, that to see something being born out of its ashes means… letting go of it.” She looks up, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke.”
He takes a deep breath, and for a long moment he stares at the ground beside her, before making a choice. He sits as well.
“It can’t go back to how it was,” Luke says. “I’m trying. I know it’s not the same, but it can’t be the same. Am I qualified? No. But are any of us? You all left me alone to do this by myself, no help, no guidance, no knowledge. I’ve been working off puzzle pieces that don’t even fit together. You say you want to help now, but it doesn’t feel like help. It just feels like resentment.”
Ahsoka’s breath hitches and she shuts her eyes, a look of pain on her face. “I know. The thing is, you’re doing so well. You’ve given us a place to call home again, you’re finding our history, you’re finding us the future as well…” She rubs at her eyes. “We had nothing for decades. We ran and we hid and we died, and then you came along and...” She gestures at everything around them, the rebuilt dome and the cleared streets and the rebuilt houses. “You even made allies out of old enemies. You’ve done so much.”
She looks at him then, biting her lip. “Is… is this because of Anakin?”
Luke scowls at her. “Not everything is to do with Anakin kriffing Skywalker,” he says waspishly.
“No, I meant… do you feel guilt for what he did?” she asks. “Do you feel bound to it because of him? Because of his actions?”
“I…” Luke swallows, and searches inside himself. I am a Jedi, like my father before me. “No,” he admits. “It’s not guilt. It’s not repentance, because I didn’t do it. It’s more… the right thing to do. It’s because the galaxy will be better for it.” He laughs bitterly. “Not that it feels like it.”
“How so?”
“Sometimes I wonder what the point of it is,” he says gloomily, tugging at the grass beneath his fingers. “Maybe the Order should have stayed dead.”
“Have you ever… thought of leaving?” Ahsoka asks, her voice gentle.
Luke blinks.
“You could, you know,” Ahsoka continues. “You have a husband, a son. Grogu doesn’t need to be a Jedi. You could simply be Luke.”
He’d thought about it, on lonely sleepless nights, curled up in bed on Yavin 4, all alone, where the future seemed impenetrable and murky and ultimately futile. But he hadn’t. He gotten up the next day and continued, one foot in front of the other. Although… well, if Grogu hadn’t have come along, perhaps he would have. Loneliness was becoming too familiar a state of being.
Luke shakes his head. “I am a Jedi. That’s what I am. I couldn’t… I couldn’t see the suffering in the galaxy and turn a blind eye to it, just walk away from it all. Not when I can do so much more.”
Ahsoka smiles then, her eyes creasing. “There’s your answer. That’s the point.” She sighs again. “I think we’ve been neglecting that, but we’ve also been neglecting each other. We’ve all been so isolated, it hasn’t done us good.”
“Jedi are pack animals?” Luke suggests, teasing, and Ahsoka chuckles.
It’s quiet, broken by the sound of children playing a street away and the recycled breeze in the leaves above them.
“You’re a good grandmaster, Luke,” Ahsoka says. “Don’t let us tell you otherwise.”
Luke stiffens, head snapping round to stare at her. “What?”
“A good grandmaster,” she repeats.
He shakes his head. “No. No, I’m no grandmaster, I’m far too young for that…”
“Who else is there?” Ahsoka asks. “Me, the coward running away from her own truth? Cal, who ran away from everything else? Reva, who was an Inquisitor?” She sets her hand on his shoulder again, more confidently this time, and Luke welcomes its weight. “You’ve done more than we ever could. You’re the only one it could be.” She makes a face. “And perhaps being old isn’t always the best choice.”
“I’ll take that,” he says, shrugging. “I’m not calling myself that, though. Not yet, anyway.”
Ahsoka nods with a chuckle.
Together they head back to the compound, and all eyes are on them as they walk through the gate. Grogu sprints across the yard and launches himself into Luke’s arms, babbling wildly and accusatorially.
“Well, they didn’t kill each other,” Reva says.
“Are you ok?” Ezra asks, nervous.
Luke sighs. “Yes. But… It’s been feeling like you’re all against me, like you hate everything I do, and that’s been… demoralising.”
“Talking out your feelings like normal people?” Merrin heckles from her seat beneath the porch – she tends to watch, distant and slightly mocking of it all, but fundamentally supportive. “Not very Jedi.”
Cal rolls his eyes as Reva huffs darkly.
“WE DIDN’T MEAN THAT, LUKE,” Gungi says. “IF YOU HADN’T HAVE FOUND US, WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE, TOGETHER AGAIN.”
“We owe you a lot,” Cal admits, folding his arms. “What you’ve done so far, it’s incredible.”
“And we didn’t get this far by doing it by the book,” Ezra says. “We had to adapt to survive.”
Luke rocks Grogu gently, looking down at him pensively. Grogu looks up, curious, and touches his little claws to Luke’s hand.
It’s for him, isn’t it? Everything that he does, ultimately, is for Grogu, and those that will come after him. The legacy isn’t something they’ve been handed from the past, it’s a debt owed to the future. And there is no future without change.
“The past can prepare us,” Luke says, tickling Grogu behind the ear, just to hear him giggle, “but we can’t chart a course back to it. And I can’t do it alone, I need all of you with me.”
“Spoken like a true grandmaster,” Ahsoka murmurs, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
The word doesn’t fit right now, but perhaps it will, in the future.
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pabsgavi · 1 year
Text
﹗ ˖ ་ 🪩 besfriend : pablo gavi
Pablo Gavi x fem Reader ! ♡
❝ Love you like a brother. Treat you like a friend. Respect you like a lover ❞
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the gif is not mine!! credits to his owner
warning: english is not my language so sorry for the grammatical errors
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You turned to the next page of the book on meditation you were reading, in your defense, it had been the most fun you found in your mother's office, after she and your father left for a business dinner, leaving you in the care from your grandmother —who despite being very funny— after nine o'clock she was simply a snoring bag on the furniture.
It was ten o'clock at night, on a Saturday, and while most of your friends were enjoying the night out, you were in your living room, with a cup of tea and a meditation book in your hands, with your Grandma next to you, and the TV in the background, playing one of her favorite novels.
After a while, you finished your reading, so you took your phone and went up the stairs, although before you made sure to cover your grandmother with one of the blankets on the furniture, and turn off the television with the novel. You quickly went up to your room, debating how necessary it was to shower—which you had done earlier—because it was too cold.
A few minutes later, already feeling the heat of the pajamas on your body, you took one last look at your phone, before going to bed, feeling how your whole body relaxed when it came into contact with the soft mattress, covering yourself with the blankets that were They found themselves on top of it, falling into a deep sleep just a few seconds later.
You were having the best of dreams, everything was perfect, the temperature of the room, the blankets, the mattress, you just felt in the clouds, until the sound of your cell phone began to rumble all over the place, at first you decided to ignore it , surely it was one of your friends trying to take you to the party, but when after a few minutes the phone did not stop ringing, you groaned as you went out from under the covers to answer the call, without even opening your eyes , still sleepy.
"Hello?" you whispered, still with half of your face glued to your pillow.
The noises of what seemed to be a party appeared immediately, you rolled your eyes, you were about to end that call, thinking that it was one of your friends making fun of how pathetic you were to stay home on a Saturday and follow the rules of your Parents, it wasn't until you heard his voice that you woke up.
"Pablo? Are you okay?"you asked, starting to worry when you didn't receive an answer from the boy you called your best friend."I swear, if this is a damn joke, Pablo, I'm going to kill you with my own hands."
You heard some laughter and some kind of struggle from the other side. "Gavi!" "Idiot, give me the phone! Y/n?"
"Carla?" Now you were wide awake, putting on your slippers. "What the hell is going on? It is assumed that Pablo couldn't leave the house, he can't even drink alcohol, in two days it's the game."
"I know, I know! The boys thought it would be a good idea to take him out of the house so he could relax a bit, but he drank too much and now he's lying in the middle of Luis's garden"
"What!?" You took the car keys quickly, putting on a coat before running down the stairs quickly. "Stay with him, okay? I'll be there in less than ten minutes."
Just as you said, in less than ten minutes you were getting out of the car to Luis's garden, where most of your friends were, some more drunk than others, along with Pablo and Carla, who was crouched next to him. boy on the grass
"They are crazy? If Pablo's parents find out about this, they'll kill them, hell."With rage and Carla's help, you took the boy to take him to your car."We'll talk about this later, take care, idiots, goodbye, Carla."You said goodbye to the girl with two kisses on the cheek and once you finished accommodating Pablo in the back seat, you got into yours.
"Hello, y / n, honey!" The boy got up from the place smiling at him, and then kissed your cheek.
"If you weren't drunk I'd punch you in the face, I swear," he laughed, scooting awkwardly to the passenger seat. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?"
"We could kiss-" You gave him a dirty look. "Take me home," he corrected, giving you an innocent look.
"You're crazy? How are you going to explain to your parents that you are falling down drunk? You know you can't drink alcohol until after the game, Pablo."
“It was just a…bottle."
"Pablo!"
"Yeah, ya, have they told you that you look cute when you're angry?" He ask caressing your cheek, making you roll your eyes.
"I'll take you home, luckily my parents aren't here, but you better behave and be quiet, my grandmother can't know that you're drunk, understood?"
"Clear than crystal, precious," he whispered, winking at you, and then leaning back on the seat.
Once you parked the car, you smiled watching Pablo sleep peacefully next to you. Before helping him get out, you wrote to his sister to inform her that he was with you and everything was fine.
"Pablo, darling, Pablo." You moved him slightly from one side to the other, once he opened his eyes, you took his hand, helping him lean against you.
On the way to the door he almost fell to the ground about four times, but you were able to make it to the living room with no problem, once you got to the stairs, you knew you two were in trouble.
"Pablo, shit, be careful!" you whispered, seeing him get too close to the edge of the stairs, staggering, he laughed.
You quickly approached him, covering his mouth, indicating that he should remain silent, and then you took him to the guest room, where a few seconds later you looked for comfortable clothes that he had left the last time he stayed at your house.
"Oh my God," he whispered, before launching himself onto the bed.
You rolled your eyes at him, taking his ankles, to remove his shoes and socks, a few seconds later he sat on the edge of the bed and raised his arms, making you laugh.
"You're an idiot, Pablo," you whispered, still between laughs, to remove his shirt and put on the sky blue sweatshirt that was next to him.
"Turn around, and you better not look, y/n."
"I don't promise anything," you teased, turning around so he could change his pants.
Feeling again like the old days when you were kids and you slept over at each other's house, but you were so scared you needed to change in the same room.
"Ready."Once Pablo finished you turned around, smiling when you saw him already lying on the bed covered by the blankets.
"Rest, silly." You approached, to leave a kiss on his cheek.
"See you tomorrow, honey." You smiled at the nickname, although it was nothing new.
You walked up to your room smiling, feeling particularly different with Pablo's presence, knowing that there was something strangely changing in the way you saw the boy.
You tried to push those thoughts out once you reached your room, pulling the covers back over you, grabbing your phone, laughing at the recent text from aurora, Pablo's older sister.
"I hope they only sleep, I don't want nephews yet"
Now you couldn't stop thinking about the way everyone around you two had always wanted you two together, since you were kids, Aurora always said that you were going to end up together, that's not counting the endless attempts of yours parents to match you up, even your friends. They wanted to see you together, even more so after Pablo's previous girlfriend broke up with him, according to her because she knew he loved her, but he would never do it the way he loved you.
Well, maybe it was time to sleep, but now you couldn't stop thinking of the two of you in a way other than just friends, and the idea didn't sound bad at all.
What the hell were you thinking?
The sound of the door made you come out of your thoughts, you smiled watching Pablo with his pillow in his hand and his puppy face, he gave you a shy smile and it was enough.
“Come here, Pablo!” He laughed, before throwing himself on your bed, he stood next to you.
He pass his arms around your waist, while you rest your head on his chest, smiling when you feel the accelerated beat of his heart.
“I love you, y/n,” he whisper, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.
"I love yo too, Pablo.—you answered, feeling how he left a kiss on your head, to then relax his body completely, and it was the last thing you said before falling sound asleep in his arms.
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justshannanigans · 2 months
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Dimension 20 Fantasy High Junior Year spoilers ahead:
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God this could be absolutely nothing, but I had to pause this weeks episode and lie down and just stare at the ceiling because it hit me like a truck mid battle that just… everything happening with Cassandra this season feels so so much like watching the magical manifestation of a goddess having an autistic meltdown.
Kristen isn’t responding to her. Things aren’t working out and she doesn’t feel heard or listened to. The red cracks of pain start fracturing through her. The rumbling stage. Something is wrong. Something feels caught, unchanging, extremely frustrating. Emotions are building but there’s time to calm down, there’s time to think things through and meditate and calm down.
But there’s a misunderstanding again. The rumbling is getting worse. The frustration is manifesting. It’s coming out of her chest and she doesn’t want it to but she can’t control it. She’s scared of her own anger, she doesn’t want to be hurt, doesn’t want to die. So the anger turns in, turns to hurt herself. It’s so big. It’s overwhelming.
There’s a moment of calm, a moment so brief where things feel okay again, things can be controlled, can be fixed. And then the shrimp thing happens. And then Kalina slices her. And the rage fully takes over. She’s transforming. She’s growing and growing angrier and Kristen’s attempts to connect are failing. And she completely destroys the synod.
I dunno man I’m probably just hella overthinking it but I sure can relate to that entire cycle of emotions, including the deadpan cynicism that comes after letting the meltdown overtake you. Granted, instead of pushing the corpse of someone’s former god onto them, I’ve just said some Extremely Worrying Things post meltdown instead, but still. Cassandra idk if you’re the God of Autism or not but damn girl you sure are relatable
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