#tcw imagine

[hesthermay]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋

PAIRING: commander wolffe x afab!reader

SUMMARY: what is love, if not living through the fear of it all with someone? what is love, if not coming out on the other side, hand in hand?

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst upon angst. reader is pregnant, no mention of she/her pronouns, use of y/n. clones using mando'a terms.

NOTES: personally, i think this shit is juicyyyyyyyy like cannot reread it without screaming. i like it, just kinda felt like writing some angst and this was a topic i felt could suffice the angst gods??? i love wolffe so damn much i just be thinking abt him all the time

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

Fear. 

Fear had filled your veins with ice and had long since made its course throughout your bloodstream ten times over. Shock and plain confusion chased after it, hanging on its coattails as you stood outside of the medical clinic with eyes looking blindly. 

As soon as the MD had spoken the words, it felt as if you’d shut down. They echoed in your ears, repeating over and over like a broken holorecord, and your body moved on its own. As you gave your signature at the end of the appointment, fingers swiping over the holopad screen with no intention, the words were deafening in their volume. As you walked down the corridor to leave, the nerves in your face buzzed in tune with the deep baritone of them. As you crossed the threshold of the building to the outside world, it almost felt like you were going to explode. 

The hustle and bustle of the Coruscant streets and skies broke it. 

Noise, life, had broken through the big thoughts and their big weight and it felt like air was entering your lungs once again. Eyes clearer, head quieter, you were still heavy as a breeze caressed your exposed arms. 

Pregnant.  

It was not like in the dramas that came on late night holonet, not romanticized and not attainable for the average person. 

Well, that wasn’t the truth. You were not the average person, for they could and very well do have that moment; but not you. You had been one of the many people to go against the grain and actually fall in love with one of the Republic’s own soldiers. 

Pregnant and alone. The breeze felt nice, you swayed on your feet to the lull as you gathered your senses again. 

He would be back. When, you did not know, but he would. He always came back, always came home, but those moments in between were the hardest. When your home was empty save for you, when your bed was too big because someone was missing, when things got hard and you were on your own. 

But he would be back. Commander Wolffe was a lot of things, but a liar was most certainly not one of them.

A father, however? You couldn’t say. 

Your feet moved, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment with thoughts still reeling. He was timid, to be approached with caution, but he was a lover. You were possibly the only person in the galaxy who could truthfully say that, but it was something you really believed. He loved you, with everything he had to give, and he showed it by trying. He stepped out of his comfort zone, he learned, he grew, he listened. A man like Wolffe wouldn’t do anything half assed, and he wouldn’t give anything his full effort if it didn’t deserve it, and that’s how you knew your relationship would work. 

It did work. Beautifully, as a matter of fact—you moved and lived as if you were made to be together, and perhaps you were. It felt like you were. 

If it worked so well, then why were you so afraid? 

To be alone was frightening. You were not really alone, he was out there somewhere; but he was not here. To not know what to do was frightening. You loved Wolffe with your whole heart and vice versa, but did he want a baby? Did he want to be a father, to bear the weight and responsibility parenthood brings? Did he want to be with you that way, tied together forever by another human, half of you both? It was a fear induced by the unknown of it all, the unfamiliarity of the path and the lack of support almost paralyzing. 

It was also a fear of startling him.

He tried so hard, and you were so thankful, but it had taken so long. So, so long for him to open up, to freely breathe and speak. To trust you, Wolffe had needed time and that is what you gave him. Would this revelation rock that trust, undo that time and send him on his way? Would he cut the ties you had formed before he got in too deep? 

Lightheaded. You took a deep breath, leaning against the wall beside you for a moment. Calm down, you told yourself. Panicking in the streets of the city wouldn’t give you the answers you needed, wouldn’t lessen the stress and worry tearing at every nerve in your body. It wouldn’t help, so it was not worth it. That’s what Wolffe would say, to clear his head—focus on the objective, and all things pertaining to it. 

The walk home was neither long nor short, for your head was in the clouds again. You were present, but not entirely. People moved around you, and you paid them no mind, their conversations blending together as background noise while your thoughts attempted to order themselves. Your home is empty when you return, and though it wasn’t a surprise it still made tears prickle your eyes. 

The dam was breaking. Hairline fractures were forming in the foundation that was holding you together, and seeing your apartment, your home together, empty and dark and without a trace of him almost released the flood. Breathing grew increasingly more difficult once again, and thoughts of reaching out just to be met with the void that was his absence only made it worse. You had to stop. You had to calm down, you had to try. 

So you tried. You tried. 

Wolffe hadn’t answered when you commed him, but you half expected that. You had forced him to turn on the message box and were glad he had listened. You drew in a deep breath before you began speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible. “Hey, hope you’re doing okay. When you get a chance, could you give me a call? There’s…something big I need to talk to you about,” you trailed off, barely holding it together. You sniffled, and wiped your nose, snapping back. “Alright, love you, bye.” 

You had failed. It was obvious something was wrong, your voice was shaky and weak and had even broken when you spoke your farewells. He always picked up on even the slightest shift in your composure, and you knew that your message read loud and clear that you were not okay. Worry crept in, worry that you would worry him while he was away, and guilt followed soon after. Your feelings were strong, and they were all over the place, and after you had done all you could in the moment you let yourself feel them. 

You fell apart, and you knew that when he called back you’d do your best to pick up the pieces so you could figure it out. 

-: ✧

Three weeks. 

Three long weeks of sickness, mood swings, and sleepless nights. 

Three long weeks with no call from Wolffe. 

You were not there when he landed on Coruscant, when the troops that were successful in their endeavors returned, and that worried him. Surely you would have caught wind of their arrival, you were not the only one to have a lover, a friend, someone special in the army. Why had you not shown up?

He told himself not to be so stupid. Of course you hadn’t come. You had called him, had needed to tell him something with that broken voice and he had ignored it. 

After returning from just another stint out in the midst of war, fear crept up on him like a monster in the shadows rearing its ugly head. It followed him all the way home, all the way up to the floor the apartment was on, and right through the front door. 

You were there. You had to have been, for his home looked as lived in as ever. Relief, sweet and almost overwhelming, rushed over him. It pushed him through the doorway and into the living room, but he did not see you. “Cyare?” he called, setting his helmet down on the table closest to him. He heard the door to the fresher slide open, and only a few seconds later you emerged from around the corner. 

His heart, as guarded as it was, belonged to you; and it broke when he caught sight of the state of you. Eyes puffy and red, tear stained cheeks and cracked lips, hair tangled and messy. Wrinkled and sweat stained clothes cover your slightly trembling body as you wipe your face upon seeing him. 

He’s worried. You’re worried. You’re both tired. You’re both sweaty and exhausted, and scared out of your minds. 

“Cyare, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“Did you not get my message?” you question instead, and your voice is gravelly and quiet. The lack of the usual melody that was you was like a stab wound to the chest. 

He didn’t know what to say at first, because he knew saying the answer out loud wouldn’t make you feel any better, so he grunted in response. But your face never changed, still stony and devastating and he knew he had to say it. “I—” he started, but seemed to choke on the words and had to take a deep breath. “I was going to call back, but I…got afraid.” 

Oh no. Dread, once again, weighed heavy on you as it showered down your body, trickling slowly and touching every part of you. “Afraid?” you wheezed through heavy breaths. 

“Of…of what it was you wanted to talk about. I—” he shook his head. “I was afraid you had met someone else, that you were gonna pack up your things and take off while I was gone and I just…couldn’t.” 

You stared at him. Long and hard, your eyes didn’t leave him. While you were stewing, killing yourself with fear and worry, so was he. You could have laughed, as cruel a joke it was. 

“Wolffe,” you whispered, tears returning once again. “Wolffe, I’m pregnant.” 

It was then his turn to stare, to not say anything as your words hit him. He was never an open book, but he was giving nothing with the blank look on his face and it hurt. Waiting all this time had hurt, waiting for him to react hurt. 

“Please,” you begged, “say something.” 

“You…you’ve been pregnant for well over three weeks,” he whispered, pain causing a quiver in his words. “And I didn’t even know. I wasn’t even here.” 

Guilt, as potent and as painful as ever, drenched his words and covered his face. The urge to ease said guilt was immediate, body acting on its own as your hand reached out for him. “Wolffe—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, pushing your hand away as he turned, refusing to even look at you. It hurt, it hurt so bad you didn’t even know how you were still standing, and yet you were. Standing there, eyes full of tears staring at the back of his head as he reached up and roughly swiped a hand down his face. “Y/N, I am…I am so sorry,” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t more careful, because you deserve more than this.”

“No,” you shot out immediately. “Don’t—don’t talk like that,” you gasped out. You were crying, you were yelling, you were terrified. “I have been scared out of my mind this whole time, Wolffe! The entire time I was worrying myself to an early grave, and I was alone! And—and I did it because I fucking love you!” 

He was looking at you now, arms down by his side and lips pursed. You didn’t stop to wonder what he was thinking about, the words leaving you in a loud ramble that had been stifled for far too long. This confession had been bottled up too tightly through the fear of it all, and now the top was blowing off. 

“Do you really think I would be here alone if I didn’t love you? If I didn’t want you?” Your face was scrunched up, emotion having you in a vice grip as he listened. “Wolffe, do you think I haven’t thought about what this means? I’ve had three weeks to think about what I’m gonna have to do when you’re gone, three whole weeks to worry about it all! So don’t you dare,” you pointed a finger at him, taking a step closer, “come home and talk to me like you’re backing out for my sake.” 

“Y/N—” he rasped your name softly, but you didn’t give him the chance to say anything more. You weren’t done, and you knew if you stopped those words would never be spoken, so you pushed on through. Your throat raw, words rough and jumbled together, you continued. 

“I am so fucking scared,” you whispered, shoulders shaking as sobs managed to sneak through your words, “that you are going to leave me. But you do not get to blame it on me, shove that weight onto me to make it easier for you.” 

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” he shook his head. “But you know me. I was made for one thing, and no child should have to deal with that thing.” He reached out, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. “I can’t give you the life that you both deserve, I can’t be that man that’s good enough for this.” 

The words you whispered brought tears to his eyes, broke down every wall the soldier had ever built in his entire life. “You’re the only man I know that’s good enough for our lives.” 

Lives. 

Plural, more than one. 

You were not just you anymore. It was you and baby, connected in the most personal way. It was the first time you’d said anything like that out loud, actually brought it into the open to be heard. 

“Knowing that you are who you are is what makes it worth it,” you continued, pulling one hand out of his grasp to instead place it on his cheek; a gesture made in the very name of tenderness, for you were no longer angry nor yelling. You were confessing, pouring out heart and soul to the only person you trusted. “Wolffe, you are the best man I know. You are not a liar, you are not a quitter, and you are not a coward. You are loyal, you are brave, and you are a lover. Part…part of what got me through these last few weeks was the fact that I never doubted you’d come home, because you told me you’d always come home. I believed you, and I haven’t had a reason not to ever since.”

Your hand slid from his cheek down to the side of his neck, eyes dropping for a moment. “I—I thought you might walk away, at least a part of me did. That you’d come back like you said, find out and get scared off,” your words got thicker, harder to get out as you began to cry again. “You have tried so hard for me, and you have done so amazing, Wolffe, I promise, but I thought this would be too much. That…that you’d cut me off before you got in too deep, and I’m so sorry to doubt you like that,” you shook your head at the look on his face. 

“C—Cyare,” he gasped out, choking on a sob that was never meant to show itself. “I am so sorry that you were alone, and afraid, because of me. You,” he grabbed your face with both hands, cradling you gently as he looked at you with all the fear, love, and pain only a man who was in it for the long run could experience, “you are only light in this galaxy that matters, and it has scared me every day since I met you. But I don’t think there's a force out there that could make me walk away from you, because I am yours. If—if loving you means that I am a lover then you’re right, because I love you, Y/N, with everything I have. I will always come home, and I will never quit fighting for the life that you deserve…that you both deserve.” He cleared his throat, lowering his head for a moment before he looked at you again. 

“The Kaminoans never taught us what love was, we weren’t supposed to know that emotion, but I have learned it. From my brothers, General Plo, and you, Cyare; and to me, love is being afraid and doing it anyway. Love is easy and not all at the same time, and that’s how it’s meant to be. If I walked away from you after this, then that means I haven’t learned a kriffing thing.”

It had been scary. It had been tough. It had been emotional. 

But it had been worth it. Waiting had been worth it. Wolffe had been worth it. You loved him more than life itself, and now you knew that he felt the same. Together, through the fear of it all, you would love your baby. 

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my work as your own.

#the witch: writes #—star wars #—signed; wolffe #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy #clone wars imagine #the clone wars imagine #tcw imagine #tcw wolffe #dad!wolffe

[obixwan]

it just dawned on me life is as fleeting as the passing dawn

pairings: cody x reader (reader only mentioned.)

blurb: cody goes awol

word count: not quite 500! short lol

warnings: sad cody, purge trooper cody, cody doubting himself. regretful cody.

notes: another fic inspired by a zach bryan song. who is surprised? certainly not me. — zach bryan i love you so much please marry me. and im SORRY i keep writing for Codes but he has no content out there, i am doing gods work. i wanted to make this super sad but im about to go to work so i don’t have time to expand.

masterlist // join the taglist // all my works are cross posted to my ao3

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

I believe in something bigger than the both of us. Bigger than the empire. Bigger than the sky.

— I miss you.

The photo of the Alderaanian sunset, your messy scribble on the back, sits on his bedside table. His bags sit packed on his cot. Everything he needs is folded neatly inside. To anyone else, it would just look like he was being shipped off to another posting. And he was, received his marching orders yesterday morning and he accepted. But he didn’t plan on turning up at his new posting. This was it. He’s going AWOL. Everything had been planned right down to the very last minuscule detail.

Life had become a string of monotonous moments. Wake up, go to work, wrestle with his better half of himself, retire for the night, try to live with his choices as he tries to sleep. repeat. repeat. repeat. Until everything blurs into the same grey slated memory and he can’t remember what day it is anymore but the echoes of his actions ring out across the galaxy. All in the name of a better galaxy.

But lately, he is not sure what he’s doing, this work, is actually bettering the lives of others. Instead of the liberator, he has become the jailer. The punisher. The purge trooper of the empire, no longer the hero of the galaxy.

But today he is changing that. He’s not running, just swapping sides. Following those he should have followed in the first place. Good Soldiers follow orders but Good Men follow their hearts and their brains. He slips into his grey travelling uniform, the same monotoned grey as the other officers around him. Uses the warped mirror in the fresher to tidy up his stubble. Runs a finger over his scar that stands out like an angry reminder of what he should’ve done when the republic fell. And then he makes his way out.

The dawn of a new day is spreading across the sky. A stretch of pinks and oranges covering the blue sky, the mountains that surround the outpost form a black backdrop against the sunrise. This is Cody’s favourite time of day, the sunrise. It is the one small victory.

He waits patiently for the ship to land. He gets on, nodding to the pilot. And when he is dropped off on the planet of his new posting, he doesn’t make his way to the hyper-train station. He doesn’t check in at the new base. He doesn’t settle into another set of greys. He leaves the empire behind, he leaves the bad choices behind. He says sorry to everyone who died because of him and He disappears into the city, becoming just another citizen until he finds the contact Rex has sent for him who ferries him to Alderaan, where he finds you with Rex and Ahsoka and he knows this is the right choice. He knows, where you are is where the good is.

#commander cody x reader #tcw imagine #tcw x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #cody x reader #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #tcw #sw #commander cody #emma writes

[notmykirk]

Concordia

Description: You scrunch up into a ball as the boar collides with you, its tusks bouncing off your beskar with a terrifying scrape, metalic on metal. You cry out and are thrown across the ground. Your head is spinning as the boar rounds on you again. Mandalorian!Reader, prequel to Nar Shaddaa. Fandom: Star Wars Pairing: Gen Word Count: 2.4k+ Warning(s): Violence.

At the edge of Mandalorian space, a war rages amongst the stars.

You are reminded of this occasionally, when Mandalore and its sun dip below the broken mountain peaks of the Bladeback Palisades. The stars of so many distant worlds, for those few precious minutes that they exist in yours, blink down at you, and suddenly you are reminded of the vastness of the galaxy and all its fears and strife and tragedy. 

In a single hour, however, Concordia’s brief night fades and with it, the stars blur, then disappear altogether once twilight returns. All that exists after that witching hour is the ground beneath your feet, the smell of raw beskar, and the distant threat of New Mandalore as it rises once more over the horizon. 

And life goes on--mundane on the grand scale of Kad Ha’rangir’s palm. 

***

Concordia is a harsh mix of barren cliffs, evidence of the brazen strip mining that had once taken place on the moon, and dense forests of dry, coniferous trees. The ground cover is bare, but growing back, and every creature that roams the surface steps lightly. The life on this moon is tough, and like a Mandalorian, it fights to survive. Every year you are one step closer to your ancestral homeland as the moon recovers its ecosystem bit by bit. 

This is all thanks to the conservation efforts pushed forward by Pre Vizsla and Duchess Satine. They are stewards--and this type of change, you welcome with open arms. This is one thing all Mandalorians can agree on: wars are synonymous with the destruction of planets. 

You barely notice the weight of the ballistic rifle in your hands as you steady it, elbows braced on the ground as you lay at the edge of the cliff beside your Alor. Your gloved thumb ghosts over the engraved metal without complex thought as you peer down the scope, searching the endless landscape for movement. 

The vegetation in the valleys below is a dark grey-green under the soft light reflecting off the face of Mandalore. Rarely does Concordia receive direct sunlight, and so the moon is blanketed with this quiet, everlasting twilight that visitors are so enchanted by, but you’ve grown used to. 

There is no shade, nowhere to hide. The light is flat, almost wraps around objects so their shadows are soft and thin, and it is silent except for the faint breeze carding through the shrubs and twisted trees. You lay flat on the ground, back bent at an angle due to the thickness of your breastplate. Beside you, your Alor shifts on her stomach, pulls her hands back to wipe a smudge off her binoculars, then returns to her original position and stills. 

Another five minutes pass in silence. Your nose itches inside your helmet, and you scrunch your face, then bite your tongue, struggling to ignore that annoyance. 

In that moment of distraction, your Alor exhales sharply, and your focus is immediately honed back to the edge of a knife. “There, five klicks out, two towards the ridgeline, by the tree with the broken top.” 

You blink, then pan your rifle to the right and catch the target in your sights--a family of Bladeback boars. You feel for the knob on the side of the scope, then zoom in close enough so you see the tan of their fur, the black tusks protruding from their snouts and the grey of their eyes. Some have the pale markings of adolescence, others are older and more refined. You follow a piglet with your scope as it struts after its mother, bumping into her legs. 

They are huddled around a dingy puddle, bowing their heads and sticking their long tongues out to drink the muddy water. You frown. That water is probably poisoned. Any runoff in this area is soiled by the mining operation on the mountains above. 

Your Alor pushes herself up with a grunt that betrays her age. “Do you have a clear shot?”

“For which one?”

“The largest.”

You pan your rifle over the group in search of a decent target, then pull the trigger easily in answer to her question. The pop of your rifle is deafening, and the sound rolls down the canyon walls and shakes the trees so a group of black birds take to the skies in fright. 

The weapon is ancient and traditional, and its ballistic nature sends it slamming back into your shoulder in recoil. You grunt when the scope of your rifle knocks against the face of your helmet, and flinch, embarrassment hot across your face at the blunder, then regard the target through your scope, bucking and running from you, with the tracking bullet lodged in its shoulder. A ribbon of blood spills from the wound.

She gives you a hard stare, then says plainly, “Well done.” Though you find it difficult to swallow down your anxiety, you grip the rifle and nod. The sudden tilt of her helmet suggests she wants to say more when she is interrupted by the distant roar of a sublight engine entering the atmosphere. 

You can’t help but wonder if it’s yet another government official from Mandalore Prime coming to step on Concordia’s toes. Governor Visla does a good job keeping the new government at bay, using politics to push Condordia’s agenda without inviting the tourism upper-class Mandalorians seem so convinced they are entitled to, but there are always a few beetles who fall through the cracks. 

You see the ship now as it jets overhead and frown. It is definitely from Mandalore. 

Those Mandalorians wealthy enough to make it off-world don’t appreciate land for what it is, something that you belong to more than it could ever be useful or beautiful. They come to poke around your nature reserves, to admire the flora without knowing their names and to prove themselves ignorant of the life that inhabits the valleys and mountains kept watch over by House Viszla’s halls. 

Mandalore is destroyed. It is barren and empty except for their massive city cubes. Those from Mandalore Prime did that to themselves, and once they finished destroying their planet, they tried to tear Concordia down from its sky alongside it--and they are still trying, whispering that Concordia’s massive and sprawling mines should not remain cold--as if they have any need for Beskar when they no longer wear armor. 

No, Mandalore is weak. It is cursed along with anyone who steps foot on it. It is a ghost above your head, a grim reminder of the past and present and its future as well. It is wreckage and ruin and trying its best to spread its wasting disease to your home. 

Your Alor sighs heavily, and you both turn back to regard the boars. They are gone from sight, though the tracking beacon on your Alor’s hip hints at their direction. The two of you stand and descend the cliff.

***

The digital interface of your helmet handles the dark easily, automatically adjusting its shading to your preferred light and contrast levels. Branches scrape across the dome of your helmet as you begin to pick your way across the forest floor. The ground here is treacherously soft, needles forming a springy carpet around jagged boulders and rocks–discarded from various mining operations, then washed down from the mountains during the month of rain. 

You follow your Alor across the rough terrain as she leads you through the dark, nervousness beginning to eat at your stomach and numb the tips of your fingers. You do not pay attention to where you are being led, and instead stare at the ground and count your footsteps in pairs of two. 

Slowly, your Alor draws to a standstill and kneels behind the trunk of a sickly tree. You freeze and crouch behind her. 

She reaches a hand up to brush a branch out of the way, and sure enough, there is the boar you shot with the tracker, its shoulder wet and stained black, though no longer bleeding as badly as it had been when you last saw it. 

On level ground you can truly realize the size of Bladeback Boars–they are larger than you or even your Alor by at least a foot, though this one does not have as much meat as it should. Its bones are like a tanning rack and its patchy hide hangs loosely off them. 

You watch silently, your stomach twisting in knots, as your Alor pulls the folded spear from behind her jetpack, then expands it with a flick of her wrist, the beskar ringing dully–the sharpened tip glowing in the twilight.

The boars head flicks towards the two of you, its small, red eyes instantly suspicious and scanning the treeline. 

When your Alor turns and holds the spear out for you to take, you trade it in silently for the rifle on your back, then force yourself with all the confidence you possess to stand and approach the boar in the open. 

You were, in theory, prepared for what comes next. 

The electric crackle of the tracking bullet shocking the boar–the hoarse squeals and subsequent furious red glare–these are all things you’ve seen before, just never with the spear in your own hands. 

The beast’s eyes are beady, furious, not those of an animal meant to be hunted. It huffs out heavy lungfuls of steam, scraping the ground with its front toes. Its three, long tusks sway dangerously, their points almost glint in the light, sharper than the spear’s. 

You tighten your grip on your weapon and stand your ground. This is what it is to be Mandalorian, because to fight is to be alive. Through struggle you can embrace life. 

Another cruel shock is delivered by your alor from her vambrance, and the Boar squeals with rage, then charges you. Concordia all but melts away. 

Something rushes over you, takes away your agency. You no longer have a name or identity, a body of your own. You are solely an instrument with a task, with The Way, and your heart beats in time with the hoof beats of the boar as it charges. 

The first parry makes your stomach drop. You underestimated the strength of the boar–its shaggy appearance by no means matching its strength. The tip of one of the boar’s tusks scrapes across your chestplate, chipping the paint down to sparking metal, shoving you backwards. It shakes your confidence, and that sudden cold shock of fear clears the calm fog in your head. 

***

New Mandalore is a pale yellow-white disc in the sky, shrouded in Concordia’s twilight and they have forsaken Kad Ha’rangir and they have forsaken their foreclans–everything that those ancestors learned and achieved in the hopes that those who follow might one day lead Mandalore towards the future. They have shed their armor and with it their past. They have no Way, no Truth, no Honor or Vision–

Even without the open secret of Concordia’s involvment with Death Watch and Pre Viszla’s hand in guiding those true Mandalorians still left back to The Way, you still despise that disc in the sky and–

***

You are hit on the floor. The spear rolls out of reach. The boar charges. 

“Buir!” you squeak. “Mom, help me!” 

“Stand your ground.” An order is barked.

You scrunch up into a ball as the boar collides with you, its tusks bouncing off your beskar with a terrifying scrape, metalic on metal. You cry out and are thrown across the ground. Your head is spinning as the boar rounds on you again.

Fear drains like color from your face; hot and cold and debilitating. 

There are no thoughts left in your head. 

You push yourself up to your feet. The spear is still too far away. The boar charges once more and its tusks nearly graze your chestpiece, then you quickly sidestep and squeeze your fist so the vibroblade hidden in your vambrace ignites into angry, solid plasma. 

You plant your foot, then carry your momentum through with a quick jab into the boar’s side. The followthrough of your strike is so vicious that your fist itself collides with the boar’s tough hide. 

With another piercing squeal, the boar’s momentum carries it another couple steps before it tips over and collapses onto the forest floor, needles and dust sent flying through the air at the impact. 

You stare at the dead animal, shivering so badly your knees give out and you collapse onto the ground, unable to unclench the fist igniting your hidden vibroblade. You bury your hands into the soft groundcover, and the acrid smell of burning vegetation makes its way through your helmet’s air filters as you continue to shake. Steam lifts from the forest floor as the blade burns a hole into the ground. 

“Ad’ika,” your mother rumbles, “you did well.”

She approaches the boar, pressing her palm to its fatal wound, then she moves to kneel in front of you. She glances down at your shaking hands, then cups the concave cheek of your helmet and lowers her forehead to yours in a kedalbe. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath, thankful that she cannot see your tears. You bow your head, though danger still runs through your veins, and attempt to speak. 

“Thank you.” you croak, voice cracked and hoarse.

The moment is broken when a number of ships lift off from over the cliff where the Kantorek Mine sits just behind you, abandoned at face value, known to those on Concordia as the comfortable staging area of Death Watch. 

There is an explosion, blaster bolts are sent flying into the sky, and then the final ship takes off. The boar is still bleeding just feet from where you are knelt. 

You and your Alor share a look before she stands, her armor illuminated with the blue glow of a dozen ships’ sublight engines. They rapidly ascend from the atmosphere, Death Watch leaving Concordia without warning. 

Something has happened. 

“Come,” your Alor says, her voice cutting clear through your muddied head. 

You pry your fingers from their fist, your vibroblade retracting into your vambrace, then push yourself up onto your feet. 

New Mandalore is still a pale disc above your head, watching with a vacant, hollow glare. 

You can feel it, all around you, just at the edges of Mandalorian space the Clone Wars rage. Concordia is a weed that grows through a crack in a courtyard, but you can’t help but wonder if once more, New Mandalore has brought ruin to your doorstep.

Masterlist | Posting Schedule

#sw #tcw #sw imagine #tcw imagine #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex imagine #rex imagine #tcw x reader #sw x reader #star wars

[halzore]

Clones and their Coffee Orders

I'm a barista, I'm also a judgy bitch. my opinion is well qualified

Rex

Flat White.

I know this is an Australian only coffee but let me tell you. its boring.

Yes, Rex is fabulous in everything he does. But the man is so in the lines, two coffee shots and steamed milk (no foam) is about as in the lines as it gets.

Cody

Long Mac

He needs an extra kick of coffee in the morning, but likes that little bit of foam to take the edge off the espresso

because he is just sassy like that

He sips it as Obi-wan sips his own tea over a morning briefing.

Fives

Caramel Latte

Do you really think that Fives was going to have a drink that tasted like coffee, no, he was going to get something so jam-packed with flavouring he doesn't know whether he is bouncing off the walls because of the caffeine or the sugar.

He is also a man that drinks his coffee right before bed. Because he's just built different

Echo

Latte

He is sensible, he is reliable, he has a little bit of flare (only a little)

Much like a latte.

He is also just kind of superior

Kix

Long black

Double Espresso and hot water is the only thing that can get Kix through a terrible overnight shift.

He is not picky in what his coffee tastes like, and kind of prefers it resembling jet fuel, as the rancid taste also helps to keep his eyes open

Jesse

Jesse is definitely a Cappuccino.

With 3 Sugars and extra chocolate on top

He does his best in life to look smart and in charge, sensible like his authority figures.

and to a degree he is. But he is also a bit of a goof, a goof who enjoys a very sweet coffee and what he likes to call "extra sprinkle"

Hardcase

MOCHA

Mocha's are like the training wheels of coffee.

Hardcase cannot stand coffee on it's own, he needs the barrier of something undeniably tasty.

Fives gives him shit for it (even though Fives cannot talk with that travesty of an order)

I also think he gets Lactose Free milk, because something about Hardcase gives me lactose intolerant energy, but also a severe aversion to alternative milks.

Tup

Matcha

He is a man of taste

he likes his slow release Caffeine

He enjoys his hot beverages as an experience, as a way to enjoy his life, and less as a stimulant. Just being near Hardcase is enough of a stimulant.

Tup enjoys the more earthy flavours of matcha.

Wolffe

Hot Chocolate

But no one in the Wolfpack knows this. Wolffe has a reputation to uphold.

While yes, he is one of the more grumpy GAR commanders going around, Plo's love for kindness and all things warm hugs finally got to Wolffe.

Wolffe enjoys his Hot Chocolates either alone, late at night, when not another soul is around or in Plo's quarters during their General-Commander briefings, that usually turn into therapy sessions for Wolffe

Fox

Double Espresso (triple espresso when Jar Jar is nearby)

Mans is just doing Dbl Espresso shot lined up on the counter.

One time he had a quadruple espresso, he only felt it a little bit though.

Tried to convince the Corrie Guard medic to hook him up to an IV with espresso in.

The medic declined, but suggested caffeine patches.

Fox gladly took them, and makes sure one is plastered on before he takes his morning espresso

*Disclaimer, Hardcase could also be the entire menu of Starbucks. I have never stepped foot in a Starbucks and my only encounter with it is something called a Unicorn Frappe??? And that was a concerning vibe check in and of itself.

**Disclaimer 2: there may be a part 2

#captain rex #commander cody #arc trooper fives #commander fox #commander wolffe #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper tup #clone trooper kix #medic kix #arc trooper jesse #arc trooper echo #tcw #tcw imagine #tcw headcanon #the clone wars #hals headcanons

[hardlystrictlystarwars]

Could I please request a flirty drabble using:

6. “your kisses mean the world to me.”

7. “just one more kiss.” “i can’t. i’ll be late for work.”

23. “Is that a threat?” “Its a promise.”

With commander cody x f troublemaker reader.

Thank youu😊

A/N: AHHH! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This was super fun, but super short. I hope you like it. I just finished it and had to get it out before I forgot. I will be adding more prompts because I just hit a major goal for my blog fyi. But that's not relevant, anyways, hope you like it!!!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Warnings: Sexy times implied, not rated E(but definitely a PG-13 rating), not beta-ed, kinda cheesey

Commander Cody x F!Reader

“One more?” You squealed, leaning over your sheets to kiss him. You tried to catch his lips but he didn’t even look up at you, still too focused on trying to find his codpiece.

“Just one more kiss, I promise,” You pleaded, pulling yourself to the edge of your mattress.  Your lips were just mere inches away from each other, yet his focus was still on that dang codpiece. 

“I can’t. I’ll be late for work,” was all he said before turning away, heading to the bathroom to presumably check there again. 

“I think you can risk being a couple minutes late,” You called out before getting out of bed and following his footsteps, “Just for today? Just for me?”

“I was just a couple minutes late yesterday because of you,” He said, coming out of the bathroom quickly, snapping one of his thigh plates on, “If I keep this up, all of my troopers are gonna expect something more out of me,” 

“Like what? Will they want kisses too?” You teased, “Will those kisses mean the world to them,” You said softly, looking up at him,  lightly grasping his chin to make sure he was looking down at you, “Because your kisses mean the world to me,” 

“Really?” He said, a grin tugging at his lips. You could see his facade breaking in front of you. 

“I promise we won’t waste any time,” You said, “Just give me what I want,”

“Are you sure about that?”

You placed one hand on the nape of his neck, stroking your hand through his hair and nodded. 

“Kriffing shab,” He muttered, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, “You’re gonna regret making me late,”

“Is that a threat commander?”

“Better, it’s a promise,” He said before pushing his lips onto yours.

tags: @badbatch-simp24 @darkangel4121 @mylifeinthetardisforever @Louise-12 @fandom-garbage @alsheyra @Nahoney22 @rintheemolion @kaitieskidmore1

#commander cody x reader #star wars fanfiction #commander cody x you #commander cody fic #commander cody #tcw cody #star wars fic #star wars the clone wars #star wars #tcw imagine #tcw #tcw fic #the clone wars fic #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars imagine #the clone wars

[thenegoteator]

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-- 'One Art' by Elizabeth Bishop

you ever think about how after everything Ahsoka told Vader "I'm not leaving you" and it wasn't enough

#ahsoka #star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #swr #tcw #xuserann #my art #going FERAL about these two again actually #and about poetry. #something something about losing. and leaving. and being left. and coming back too late. #imagine ahsoka hearing how vader died. #padme and luke both said 'there's still good in him' and ahsoka KNEW that and yet he would not show it to her. #i'm chewing drywall

[bloatedandalone04]

Like Fine Wine

➪the one where you can’t resist hayden’s look for his role in ahsoka.

Warnings: hubby hayden bc i want to marry this man so badly, current age (or 41 year old) hayden, smut, fluff, pet names, unprotected sex, handjob (brief), hair pulling, soft smut, you guys just straight up loving on each other, reader is feral for him, spoilers for ahsoka if you haven’t seen the last 2 episodes, takes place during the filming of ahsoka (back in may 2022), this is just self-indulgent tbh

Word Count: 2.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

When you finally made your way back to the hotel room you and Hayden were staying at during the filming of Ahsoka, the last thing you were expecting to see was your husband propped up against the headboard, shirtless with grey sweats covering his lower half, and the script for tomorrow in his hands. 

He looked absolutely divine, and you bit back a moan at the mere sight of him, the wine bottle you had bought from the store across the street nearly slipping from your grasp.

When he heard the door open but didn’t hear your voice right after, Hayden looked up to see you standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face as you stared at him. “Hey, baby,” he murmured in a greeting, flipping the script back to the first page as you closed the door without breaking eye contact. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go over this scene with me, but you seem…preoccupied. What’s on your mind?”

You set the bottle down on the table by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you stepped towards him. “I was just thinking,” you trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes stalked his body like he was prey. 

Hayden sat up against the headboard, a teasing glint in his eye. “About what?”

Kneeling on the bed, you kick off your shoes before crawling over to him and straddling his lap. “About what I could’ve possibly done to deserve such a hot husband,” you answer, taking the package of papers from him and dropping them on the rug beside the bed. 

His hands instinctively grab your waist, his own eyes raking up and down your face. “Eighteen years together and you’re only asking that now?” He teased, his fingers lifting your shirt slightly so he could feel your skin on his. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been asking myself that since the day you messed up your practice run with Ewan and had to restart it from the very beginning,” you say back, watching as a knowing smile graced his lips.

“That was only because you walked on set looking like something right off of the red carpet. Kinda like how you look right now,” he not so subtly gazed down at your body, his blue eyes beginning to darken the longer he had you on top of him.

You roll your eyes but blush at his forward words, resting your hands on his shoulders. Eighteen years together and fifteen since you’ve been married, and he still was able to effortlessly make you feel like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

Your engagement ring and wedding band reflected off the single lamp he turned on, unknowingly setting the mood for when you got back. It was on the bedside table next to his phone, which had been turned completely off since he was away from set and planned to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You mumbled, feeling the cool metal of his own wedding band, that was identical to yours, pressed against the heated skin of your hip. “Seriously, do you even realize how good you look right now?” 

His hair was still somewhat styled in his clone wars look for the flashback scene, and the way it curled in certain spots had your whole body aching for him. If he hadn’t taken off the makeup for the scar already, you probably would’ve been wrapped around him by now. “I don’t know,” he answered, kissing you back when you placed your mouth against his. “I’m not sure I can believe it after you told me that about ten times on set earlier today.”

You and he had actually met during the filming of Star Wars Episode II, but didn’t start dating until Episode III had been fully completed. You went to the premiere together and that was your public debut as a couple, and you still remembered how loudly the fans cheered when he kissed you right there on the carpet.

You, too, would be in a few flashbacks towards the end of the series, in the form of your Force Ghost. Your character was killed in the last half of Episode III by Anakin himself, and you still remembered filming that scene like it was yesterday. 

The tears you shed that day were one hundred percent real, as you were actually saying goodbye to the character that introduced you to your future husband. At that point you and Hayden had gone on several low-key dates, but didn’t become official until a couple of months later. His acting was also more real than not in that scene as he had to pretend to kill you in a somewhat brutal way.

To revisit your character for the first time in over a decade was one of the best opportunities you had ever gotten, and you could only assume that this was how Hayden felt when he was asked to return as Anakin in Obi-Wan. While your scenes wouldn’t be filmed for a few more weeks, Hayden still insisted you stay with him until the filming was wrapped up completely. 

“I’m not apologizing for hyping up my husband,” you say against his lips. “I’m being so serious, Hayden, you look good.”

He grins up at you, pulling your body closer until your chest pressed right up against his, the subtle rock of your hips making you suppress a moan. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” he nudges your nose with his. “I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself.”

“You so can,” you agree, trailing your hands down his toned chest, smirking at the way his stomach muscle flexed at your light touch. “You’re so attractive, I don’t think you even realize it.”

Hayden hummed, slowly dragging his hands up your body and taking your shirt along the way. “I could say the same thing about you,” he said before asking, “You’re awfully flirty tonight, what’s got you all worked up?”

“You,” came your simple reply, your fingers pulling at the loose string of his sweats. You lean down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, one that leaves him wanting more as you descend your mouth down to his shoulder, where you place a few open mouthed kisses to his skin. “You, being so unbelievably sexy when you’re back in your element on set. The way you looked when you were practicing earlier? The way you look now? You don’t know the things you do to me, Hayden.”

“I beg to differ,” he rasps out when you place another kiss to the base of his throat, his hands quickly fumbling to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor beside the script and you lift your head so you were looking right at him, your body level with his as you slowly rocked your hips against his. “Y/n.”

You give him a teasing grin, sliding your hands down his sides before they land on the front of his sweats. “I know,”you murmur and kiss him slowly, slipping your hand past the waistline and palming him. You hold back a smirk when you find him already hard for you, his body’s way of responding to yours every time you come onto him. “I just want to make you feel as good as you look.”

Hayden huffed out a breathy moan as you pulled him free from the sweatpants. “I want to make you feel good, too, baby,” he managed to say as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him. 

You hum, “I already feel good from just looking at you,” 

A ghost of a moan escaped your lips when leaned forward to kiss your exposed shoulder in an attempt to quiet his own sounds. 

Though this was a nice hotel, he still didn’t want to risk the possibility of the walls being thin enough for him to receive noise complaints, though the thought had him growing harder in your hand. 

“You don’t know how much you turn me on,” you nearly whisper, the pad of your thumb brushing over his tip and making him groan quietly against your skin.

“After twenty years of knowing you, I think I know exactly how much I turn you on,” he mumbled, bucking his hips up so you stroked him a bit harder. “It’s the same way with you, baby. You make me feel so good all the time.”

You whimper quietly when his hand slips inside the front of your leggings, biting down harshly on your bottom lip when he finds your clothed clit with no trouble at all. Being intimate with the same person for half your life came with that perk. “I want you so bad,”

Hayden lifted his head back up to connect your lips in a kiss, murmuring, “You have me. Since that first day I saw you, I’ve been all yours,” when he pulls away to lift your hips in order to rid you of your leggings and the lace that covered your core. “I love you, Y/n Christensen.”

You moaned at that, moving back to straddle his hips again. Gripping the sides of his neck, you use the tips of your thumbs to tilt his head up in order to be able to give him a deep kiss. “I love you,” you whined as he guided your heat over him a few times, prepping both himself and you with your slickness. “My hot, sexy husband.”

And then you were lifting your hips and sliding onto him until he was buried deep within you. Your hips met his as moans escaped both of you, with Hayden leaning back against the pillows and headboard to let you take full control. 

While he always wanted you in this way, seeing him as Anakin again clearly did something to you, and he was more than okay with letting you take the lead like you needed to. 

You close your eyes and grip his shoulders, moaning softly when you lift yourself up before dropping back down again. “I’m never getting over this,” you confess, though it wasn’t new news. Even though you had been together for nearly two decades, you still hadn’t grown tired of each other, further proving the fact that you were meant to be together. “Fuck.”

Hayden groaned under his breath, his hands gripping your waist as you began to slowly ride him. “Just like that, sweet girl,” he praised softly, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “We fit so well together, don’t we? Make each other feel so good.”

You moan a bit louder, nodding quickly as your hands move to tangle in his  hair. The fact that it was you who got to see him like this, and it was you who got to mess up his Anakin-styled hair had you going a bit feral.

“So good,” you agree, dropping yourself down on him with a bit more force, really setting a pace that would ensure you both wouldn’t last too long. He is forty one and you were pushing thirty nine, you couldn’t really expect to be as durable in the bedroom after a long day of filming. 

Still, when he hadn’t spent a whole day on set, Hayden could go for longer, simply because he aged unbelievably well and kept his body in great shape. 

He also wasn’t expecting you to want to jump his bones as soon as you got back from your wine run after he changed into more comfortable clothing, planning on going over a few of his scenes with you before bed. 

That still didn’t stop him from letting you completely drain any and all energy he had left from the day as you grind your hips against his. Small, needy whines left your pretty lips as you moved further down on him, driving him even deeper into your willing and wanting walls. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say, making your pace falter slightly as you flushed at his words. “My girl. The prettiest woman in the world.” He complimented as his hands slid up your back and expertly unclasped your bra. 

He pulled it from your body and replaced it with his hands, his thumbs and index fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. You whimper at the feeling of his smooth fingers against your sensitive buds, tugging harshly at his strands. “Hayden,” you murmur, guiding him into you quicker with swift grinds of your hips. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said under his breath, trailing one hand down to circle your throbbing clit with his thumb. His other hand moved to tightly grip your hip again as you picked up the pace, beginning to feel that tight sensation forming in your abdomen. “You feel so good. So good for me, baby, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulse around him, your thighs burning with exertion and forcing you to stop for a brief second before Hayden grabs your other hip and begins thrusting up into you. “Yes,” you gasp out, tangling your hands tighter in his hair as he lifts himself up from against the pillows to really allow him to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck, yes, don’t stop, Hayden, please.”

How could he deny you your wish? In all honesty, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to stop, anyway, as you were clenching so tightly around him and sucking him in as deep as he could go, he almost blacked out for a second from how blinding the feeling was. 

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he requested quietly in your ear, his deep and raspy voice making you clench tighter around him as your walls pulsed in time with his quick thrusts. “I want you to, want to feel it.”

Your mouth opened in a faint cry and your stomach swelled as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. As your whole body tensed up in his arms, Hayden felt your walls spasm slightly before he also felt the flood of your release coat him. It gave him the perfect amount of friction for him to fall not too far behind. 

His jaw locked slightly, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer to him as he, too, came. Deep within you, he pushed his seed further with a few extra thrusts before he was forced to stop due to the sensitivity of it all. 

With his last remaining energy, he lifted you up and set you down on the bed next to him. He hovered over you a second later, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nuzzled his head in between the space of your neck and shoulder. “I love you so much,” he whispered in between peppered kisses to your sweaty skin. “Thank you for always making me feel like the most important person, everyday.”

You ran your fingers through his damp and messy hair, playing with the curls as a smile formed on your lips. “You are the most important person,” you reminded him, kissing him quickly before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him further down onto you. “And I love you, too.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #sw anakin #tcw anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker #star wars attack of the clones #star wars #ahsoka #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #ahsoka episode 5 #ahsoka episode 4 #ahsoka episode 5 spoilers #star wars anakin #anakin and ahsoka #Anakin Ahsoka

[literallyjustanerd]

...at least they're having fun? find out what they're jamming to bonuses:

#there's this cheesy 80's synth hyperpop song i've loved for ages that for some reason my brain has decided is Echo's favourite song so here #I imagine he'd be very embarrassed about admitting that he likes the song #unless Fives hypes him up and gives him enough spotchka and then they both lose their minds to it #sw tcw #star wars: the clone wars #domino twins #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #clone medic kix #captain rex #sw tcw fanart #79s clone bar #abbey does art stuff

[hesthermay]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)

PAIRING: obi-wan kenobi x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: the shrill sound of blaster fire, red and blue shots of light cutting through the deep fog. the call of a trooper to his general, voice almost blending in with the chaos filling her ears. a blue lightsaber, illuminating the form of a quick and nimble jedi. copper hair, soft and somehow still shiny, as her fingers carded through the strands in the dead of night. flashes, these were—visions and dreams plaguing the goddess of the sun; the sun witch; whatever she may be called. viarruh finnall, the queen of orret, knew she was meant to do more for the galaxy, meant to be out there and meant to be with someone, and with the help of a dear friend that is exactly what will happen.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, slight angst? female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death, soulmate trope, eventual fix it fic. the clone wars time period.

NOTES: this oc and story has been living in my head for actual months. i love viarruh, and i sincerely hope you all do too! her and obi <3 ugh <3 there will be more to this story, i can’t say how many parts bc i’m honestly just winging it but it will follow the clone wars timeline, but it should be alright if you haven’t seen the show. also! i am planning on posting this story to my wattpad! if there are any inaccuracies or things that aren’t quite right, i’m doing my best! but i’m also flying by the seat of my pants so! oops! anyways feedback is always appreciated love u pookies

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

It was quiet in the Jedi Temple, the long corridor leading to the council room almost deserted; save for the four occupants huddled together.

Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala stood side by side as they attempted to offer small comforts to the pair before them. Time seemed to drag on as they all waited, tucked away next to a large column to retain as much privacy as possible, and nerves were understandably growing stronger.

“Just don’t look at him,” the Jedi Knight offered, holding his hands up as if the answer was so simple. He could not be faulted much, however, because he stuck around even when he had no reason to.

“Don’t look at him? I dream about him every night and you expect me not to look at him?” The woman across from him questioned, incredulous words filling the small space of their circle as her sculpted brows furrowed.

“Ani,” Padme sighed, shooting him a small smile nonetheless.

“I think what the General means,” the last member of the group interjected, his low voice easing his companion’s nerves ever so slightly. “Is that when you give your speech, do not focus on him too much. It will only distract you, and…” he drawled, words sounding like a question.

“...it’s something we can unpack later,” the woman finished with a nod, filling her lungs with air before exhaling.

“Good, very good, my dear.” Aged hands squeezed her shoulders before her attention was drawn elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the form approaching them from afar, and it was familiar to her, but it was not the man she was stressing over.

It was a Kel Dorian, a Jedi the woman had seen more than once in her visions. When he was within earshot, the woman hesitated before she opened her mouth. “Koh-to-yah, Master,” she greeted, attempting a small smile. A small effort, a metaphorical hand outstretched to make a good impression, and the man stopped in his tracks upon hearing her. It was difficult to read him due to the mask covering his face, but he bowed his head in return. A choice, to accept the hand.

“Koh-to-yah, Your Majesty,” his deep voice replied, before he continued the short trek to the council room.

“Okay, it shouldn’t be too long now that Master Plo is here,” Anakin explained. “I promise, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

There was no time to reply to him, for the doors opened and the Jedi from before, Master Plo, stepped out. “You may enter, Your Majesty. I do apologize for the wait.” He held out one arm clad in armor, and the woman detached herself from her support group with one last glance.

“Oh, no apology needed, Master,” she assured, voice soft as she passed him and crossed the threshold into the large room. Before her sat every member of the Jedi Council, some in person, some over holocall, but they all gazed upon her in a daunting semi-circle.

Her eyes zeroed in on him immediately, breath catching in her throat and heart freezing in her chest. Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his copper hair that shone in the sunlight that streamed through the many windows, was somehow even more perfect in person than in her dreams, and she did not know how that was possible.

She hoped that her face didn’t give her away, cursing herself for the falter in her stride when they made eye contact. She dismissed it, told herself to give no thought to the way it looked as if the man struggled just as much upon seeing her. That was impossible, a trick of the mind; for she was only human after all.

The young woman was suddenly aware of every aspect of herself, from the way her dress lay as she stood in the middle of the room to how heavy the crown she often wore felt on that day.

“A pleasure to see you, it is, Viarruh Finnall,” came the croaky voice of Master Yoda, and so that was where she chose to focus her eyes as she forced herself to remain calm.  

“The pleasure is all mine, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to hear me out,” she smiled, as polite as ever in a formal meeting. She did not have much experience with Jedi, but she did have some when it came to being a Queen.

“Of course,” the man sat next to Yoda replied, his hands clasped before him. “What can we help you with, Your Majesty?”

Viarruh took another deep breath, gathering her bearings before she dove into the explanation she could only hope she delivered in a clear and concise way. Her hands reached down and fluffed her dress slightly as her lips parted, nerves shoved to the back of her mind. “How much do you know of my planet’s culture?”

A moment passed in silence, her eyes flitting from one Jedi to the next, before she continued. “Or, more specifically, how much do you know about my family?” Another beat of silence, and she began her little walk around the circle she stood in, movement helping to disperse the nerves buzzing throughout her. “In my family, the crown is passed down from Queen to Queen, traditionally mother to daughter; and that is because we possess something that I understand to be somewhat similar to the Force,” she paused, eyes landing on Obi-Wan subconsciously. He was stoic as ever, hand raised to cover his chin as he listened, and was little comfort in the moment.

“It’s ancient, older than old, and it’s…” she laughed slightly, arms moving about as she spoke. “It’s magic. That’s the only word for it. Some have called us goddesses of the sun, others have called us sun witches; regardless of that, we are capable of things normal humans cannot do. We have a connection to the sun and possess abilities that aid us in protecting our planet, our people. Traditionally,” she sighed, “mother would teach daughter how to use and strengthen these abilities, but I have been without my teacher for quite some time. I haven’t had my master to help me, I’ve been on my own with only the light to guide me in the right direction, and I will not lie to you all. There are things I still don’t know about myself, things I’m still learning. This magic, it only grows stronger as time passes, just as I do, and I have not mastered much yet.”

“Magic?” Someone questioned from behind Viarruh, and she twirled around to face the man. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but magic is not real.”

This reaction was not one Viarruh was unfamiliar with. The condescending tone in the Cerean’s voice did nothing but roll off her back like water. Just as she was about to respond, someone beat her to it. A few seats away, a Togrutan woman illuminated in blue as she called from wherever she resided, addressed her colleague. “Master Mundi, perhaps we should keep an open mind, this galaxy is bigger than you might think.”

The man, Mundi, as it turned out, grumbled to himself but settled into his seat nonetheless. A small smile stretched across the queen’s face, and she lit up with an idea. “On the contrary, Master Mundi,” she raised a finger, and spun around to find the beams of light trickling into the circular room. “Magic is real, and I can show you.”

She stepped forward, hand outstretched before it was enveloped in the streams of warmth. Not a moment later, the light began to shimmer around her hand, golden sparkles covering her skin even after she pulled away. She held it up to show everyone, eyes flitting down the line of people before they settled on Master Plo. The grin she shot him was, all things considered, tame compared to her usual mischievous smirk, but the man did not know that. As the woman floated towards him, all he could think of was Ahsoka Tano, and how she must be a copycat for she looked almost the same when a plan formed in her mind.  

When she finally stood before him, slender fingers were placed on his forehead and the still glittering light showered down and covered his entire body. Warmth filled him to the brim, as if the sun itself was beating down on a summer’s afternoon, and his eyes shut momentarily. When they opened again, Viarruh was still standing before him, hands at her sides but giving him a hopeful look. “Fascinating,” he mused, and the woman chuckled before bowing her head and returning to her spot. Behind her back, Plo made eye contact with Yoda before he nodded just once.

“That,” Viarruh began again, “was only a simple trick, but I feel a good example of how real my connection with the sun is. Recently, it seems I have…unlocked something. A new ability, something I had seen my mother deal with but not something she ever had the chance to help me with. I have been having visions and dreams,” she explained, face serious as she grew closer to the heart of her speech, the real reason she had called upon the Council.

“And they are only getting stronger and more persistent. Every day, now multiple times each, my mind is taken over and my eyes glow golden and all I can see is this war. I have seen it all,” she stressed, nodding her head a few times at the disbelief on some of the master’s faces. “The assassination attempts on Senator Amidala’s life, the Battle on Geonosis,” she listed, eyes wide. “I’ve seen a handful of you fight in battles, seen you risk your lives against swarms of droids. And I see myself, too; fighting with you, helping you and your men bring this closer to an end one day at a time.”

The room was so silent, one could’ve heard a pin drop, if anyone dared to move a muscle, that is. Every Jedi sat frozen in their seats, eyes all trained on the woman in the center of the room, and for a moment she felt like prey being stalked by predators. But she could not afford to let that get to her, let it throw her off her game because she was in too deep now to back out, to lose.

“I know, I know it sounds absurd, but it’s the truth. I have never been so certain about anything in my entire life, as I am about the fact that I am meant to do something in this war. I can feel it in my bones,” her fists clenched to emphasize her words, eyes boring into each and every person they landed on. “I believe that every person in this galaxy has a purpose, something they are meant to do, either for themselves or someone else; and I know in my heart of hearts, in every crevice of my mind, that I am meant to fight with you. My entire life, I have always had an intuition that rivaled anyone around me; sometimes I just know things and I am seldom wrong. I have never been led to believe I cannot trust my emotions, and that is how I know these visions mean something. I see with more than eyes.”

Her feet stopped moving, planting themselves in the dead center of the circle she had been pacing with toes pointed right at Master Kenobi. “Please,” she breathed. “You have to believe me, have to trust me that this is meant to happen.” His blue eyes bore into her, and she could not find it in herself to look away from them. If anyone in this room believed her, it had to be Obi-Wan. He had to know that she saw things beyond herself, that she thought of him every day and maybe, just maybe, she could tell him that she also dreamt of him every night. During the day, it was battles and clones, lightsabers and blaster fire; but at night, it was him. Moments of sneaking affection, fingertips brushing fingertips, late night conversations where no prying eyes could catch them, kisses, soft and sweet and sacred in their secrecy.

When she finally did break contact, flashes of his laughing face being pushed to the side, she looked to Master Yoda. “I love my job, and I love my people, but it eats away at me sitting in that castle instead of being out there.” Her voice shook under the severity of her emotions, the weight of her words and what they meant too heavy to hold steady in front of the audience. “I am absolutely riddled with guilt every time I see a clone fall, or a Jedi get cut down, and I know I can’t save everyone but I know I could do something.”

It had been a long while of Viarruh being the only one speaking, everyone else sitting in silence as she spilled everything that had been occupying her mind for months, so when she finally concluded her speech there was a pregnant pause, a swallowing quiet that left a pit in her stomach. This was it, she had nothing left to add to change their minds, should they send her away with her insane claims and delirious visions. She knew full well how crazy her request was, to want to fight in a war when her days consisted of royalty and sunshine, but it was about doing what was right, not what was easy.

A croaky voice broke the silence, bringing all eyes to a green Jedi huddled in his chair. “Thank you, I do, for coming forward with your visions. Frightening, it is, to share something unknown.” His head bowed slightly, ears moving with him. “Some time, we will need, to discuss things. From the temple, stray not, please.”

Relief, in its purest form, washed over her when his words registered. She was not being sent away with no thought to what she had to say, she was not laughed at for the emotion she showed.

“Of course,” she answered, bowing her head as well. “Thank you for your time. I shall be with General Skywalker in the meantime.” With that, she turned to make her exit, eyes lingering on a copper haired Jedi just a moment longer than they should have before her feet carried her across the room and over the threshold. Behind her, the doors shut and her shoulders slumped, closing her eyes while the sounds of shuffling feet filled her ears.

“Well?” Padme urged, unsatisfied with the lack of information being given.

“They listened to you, didn’t they?” Anakin fired immediately after, and Viarruh was struck with how similar they could be. Two peas in a pod, they were.

The young woman nodded her head, careful to mind the headpiece she wore once it bumped on the wall behind her. “Yes, they listened. No, Obi-Wan didn’t speak to me,” she answered, already knowing those were the two hot questions burning on everyone's minds. “Master Yoda said they would need time to discuss things, and not to stray from the temple.”

“Well, that’s good,” the eldest member of the group pointed out, aged face displaying a hopeful expression. “They could have said no and sent you home, but they’re considering.”

“Ellman’s right,” Padme interjected, face serious now that the first step of their plan was completed. It was only just a day ago that they wondered if they would even be able to do it, and here they were with one foot out the door already. “Now, should they say yes we need to have all of our points laid out for when we speak to the Chancellor. I have everything in my office in the Senate building.”

“I shall accompany you,” Ellman offered, his role as the queen’s main advisor ever present.

“Perfect. Ani, you stay here with Vi while we’re gone, and comm me when they bring her back in.”

“You got it,” he grinned down at her, and her business face melted for just a moment before she had to look away.

“And don’t get into any trouble, you two,” she warned, finger pointed at her husband before going to her best friend.

“Pads, we’re in a sacred temple, what kind of trouble could we possibly find?”

-: ✧

“Is that all you’ve got, Your Majesty?”

Although Viarruh had seen him in her visions, she had never met the young man who had captured her friend’s heart, and so she was not yet prepared for how arrogantly taunting Anakin Skywalker could be. He was caring, that much she could see; he had done his best to help with her pre-meeting jitters and now, was occupying her during her wait at the Jedi Temple. And yet, his voice carried across the sparring room with a challenging lilt curling around the words, solely meant to egg her on.  

“Be careful what you wish for, General,” she warned, eyes bright and sharp and lips pulled into a smirk that only screamed trouble. Her hand shot out and in it formed a staff, appearing in a flash of light right before Anakin’s very eyes, though he still blinked a couple times as his mind attempted to catch up with what had happened. When he finally brought his attention back to the present, he only had moments to duck before the staff made contact with his face. Whatever it was made of, it did not appear to weigh her down as she moved with a frightening grace; and it stood up against a sword meant to cut through anything. She was capable, challenging, even, but she would need more training if she wanted to join them in battle. This was made clear to them both when the match ended with Viarruh’s staff on the ground some feet away from her and the blue blade of a lightsaber pointed right at her throat.

“I suppose you win this round, Skywalker,” she conceded, hands raising in surrender. Just as her opponent went to reply, most likely another boast, he was interrupted by the sound of clapping. Their heads turned in unison, and their eyes widened together just the same. The blade disappeared into the hilt of the saber and the heat fled from her neck, though it returned not a moment later as she registered who she was looking at.

Stood by the entrance was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hands coming down to clasp behind his back. “Impressive,” he mused, and the sound of his voice meeting her ears in person nearly knocked her over, but she remained steady as he started moving towards them. “It seems I taught my padawan well.”

“Yes,” she replied after realizing that Anakin’s silence was a push for her to speak up. “It seems so.” Her eyes cut to the man beside her, and he knew he would be in trouble later.

“And you, Your Majesty, are quite the fighter. I didn’t realize how frightening you could be.” By now, Obi-Wan was in front of the pair, looking at them with crystalline eyes. Viarruh tried not to think about how she looked at the moment; their fight had been long and was easy by no means, and she could feel the sweat gathered on her brow all the more under his gaze. She knew her hair was a mess on her head, having been knotted when she hastily removed the crown, and she didn’t dare look down to see if her dress was crumpled and crooked. She only prayed to Maker that it wasn’t as she stared right back at him.

“It comes in handy,” she quipped, heart skipping a beat in her chest when his smile widened.

The moment, if it could even be called that, was shattered when Anakin finally decided to make his presence known once again. “So, Master, what can we do for you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t seem to want to leave the woman before him, but they eventually flicked to his former student, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “Ah, yes, the Council wishes to speak with you again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, just let me grab my things and we’ll be on our way,” she smiled, before turning to her new friend. “General, would you please comm Senator Amidala and Advisor Ellman while I speak with the Council?” She had already started to walk away from the men when the answer came, and she did not have to look at him to know he was grinning at her.

“Yes, yes, I can do that, Your Majesty.” She turned to squint at him, hands running through her long strands when, to her horror, he started to walk towards the exit. “I will go do that right now.”

Her fingers forced themselves to resume their movements as she turned away again. She found herself alone with the man she believed to be her soulmate, as if her nerves needed anything else to buzz over. When she did spin around to face him, he was already looking at her. Her cheeks burned even more, but in spite of it she held her hands out, gesturing vaguely to the crown now on her head as she made her way back to him. “Look good?”

Once again, words seemed to stick in Obi-Wan’s throat when her eyes were on him. He stuttered slightly in his reply, and cursed himself silently. “Yes. Looks good,” he nodded, suddenly shy in front of the queen. “To the council room?”

Viarruh was intuitive, and on top of this particularly beneficial trait, she also read people for what they were. Not much got past the Queen of Orret, and so she dared to let herself believe that what she saw was, indeed, true.

Obi-Wan was nervous.

“Lead the way, Master,” she smiled, swallowing her chuckle when she noticed the shade of pink dusting over his cheeks as he led her out of the room.

The corridor was long and dimly lit, the evening sun casting a golden hue across the walls and floors, and though her shoes were the only noise for the beginning of their walk, Viarruh had started to settle into herself; muscles relaxing and mind easing as she felt the warmth of the man next to her. They were not touching, not even close enough to brush arms, but she still felt him. For a moment she wondered if this would only make her miss him more when he was no longer around her, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her she was a fool to think it wouldn’t.

“Your Majesty?”

Her heart still skipped a beat when his accent rang in her ears, but she was no longer fighting for breath and composure. He was comfortable to be around, she had decided.

“Oh, please, Viarruh is fine,” she assured, smiling at him in an attempt to prove to him that it really was fine.

He hesitated for a moment, but not a second later did he nod his head before flicking his eyes over to meet hers. “Viarruh,” he corrected, and oh, Maker, her name had never sounded so pretty. “May I ask you something about your visions? I know you are to speak with the Council about them, but I was wondering if you could tell me when they started?”

“Uhm,” she stalled, remembering back to the first vision she ever had.

She had just settled down in the plush and intricate chair sat at her desk, fully intending to complete some work in the late hours of the night, for something had been nagging her though she could not figure it out. It had kept her awake when she laid down to sleep, and so she had eventually wandered her way around the castle and ended up in her office. But as she reached for the holopad she felt…funny. A feeling washed over her, starting at the crown of her head and showering down to the tips of her toes, and it had happened so fast she hadn’t had any time to react before breath stuck to the back of her throat and eyes glowed bright like the sun that hung in the sky. Her lips were parted but only quiet choking sounds escaped her as her head fell backwards, face pointed to the high ceiling but she was not really looking.

No, her mind was taken over and it was like she wasn’t even in her office anymore. Instead, she was on Coruscant, stood in the darkened bedroom of her best friend. She could not move, she could not speak, only watch as insect-like creatures crawled towards Padme’s sleeping figure. Could only watch as two Jedi burst into the room, blue blade illuminating the darkness as one of them cut the creatures in half.

It ended there, whatever it was that had happened to her. Her eyes slammed shut before snapping open, air rushing into her lungs as she gasped, almost falling forward onto the desk in front of her. With a heaving chest she did her best to push herself up from her seat on shaky arms before she dashed out of the room. Bare feet carried her to the meeting room where she punched in Padme’s comm code, and she anxiously waited for her face to appear in blue, but cried out in frustration when there was no answer.

Worry prickled at every nerve and dread had settled in her feet, making it hard to even move her legs as she rushed to the only room she could think of; Ellman’s. She couldn’t move fast enough, tripping on the ends of her sleep gown numerous times, and she practically flew into his door. She was gasping, mind racing over every possibility as her fists bangs on the door, and she didn’t know how she was still standing by the time the man answered the door.

His eyes were squinted as he tried to make out who was in front of him, and in her frenzy Viarruh almost yelled at him, but there was no time to raise her voice as words spilled out with no end. They were frantic and jumbled together, and it was the alarm bells it set off in his mind that fully awoke him. “Viarruh? Viarruh! What is it?”

His questions fell on deaf ears, and strong hands tightly grasped her shoulders. “Viarruh, calm down! I need you to breathe!” He shook her a few good times, successfully putting an end to the stream of panic falling from the woman’s lips. Her eyes were wide as they finally focused on him, and she was slightly trembling in his hold.

It was a rarity for the queen to get so startled, handling her nerves well on any other day despite the horrors of her childhood, but that was not the case on this particular night. “Vi, what happened?”

“It’s Padme, I—I saw something and when I commed her, she didn’t answer, and—”

“Slow down,” he urged. “What do you mean you saw something?”

“I was in my office, and s—something happened, it was,” she stuttered, shaking her head as she struggled for words. “Do you remember when I told you I had a weird feeling earlier today? I couldn’t sleep, so I went to my office.”

“Was someone in there with you?” He interjected, but she shook her head again.

“No, no, it was just me; but I did see something. It was like…like a vision. I got this funny feeling and then I couldn’t breathe, it was like I was choking on nothing and then I couldn’t see.” Her hands fisted the front of his shirt, words speeding up again the more she spoke.

“You couldn’t see, but you saw something?”

“I’m being serious! It was like—like a vision! I was staring at the ceiling and then something happened to me and it was all gone, all I could see was the vision and I saw Padme!”

Viarruh did not catch on in the moment, perceptiveness dialed down in her vulnerable state, but Ellman seemed to be paying more attention now that she had revealed what she had experienced. His brows were furrowed as her words bounced around in his head, thoughts zooming this way and that as he thought back to when he was working for her mother, and all the things he’d witnessed her do and he remembered visions being one of them.

“What happened to her in this vision?” His voice was low and as serious as could be, no longer high pitched in worry, and in the darkness of the corridor his face was almost grave.

“There was something in her room, and it was crawling towards her while she slept and then two Jedi burst into the room! I tried to comm her when it ended but she didn’t answer, and that only  makes me think something bad really did happen to her! Ellman, what if she’s in trouble? What’s happening?”

“Listen, listen,” he soothed, taking a half step closer. “This is because of your powers. Your mother had visions, but I can only imagine how frightening it was when so unexpected.”

“My mom had them?” she mumbled, wide eyes staring up at the closest thing to a parent she had.

“She did. I don’t know much, unfortunately, but I do know that this was going to happen eventually; you’re far too perceptive and just plain lucky to have it skip you. What it is, well, to my understanding it could be a number of things. The past, things that have already happened revealed to you; the present, seeing things as they happen in real life; and the future, though that is never a certainty. Things change, but you can see these things. Now, what you saw with Padme could be any of those things, I’m afraid I have no answers to give with that, but we will investigate more in the morning. More people are likely to answer our calls, and we will be of sound minds,” he assured, one hand coming up to smooth over the back of her head. “Please, My Lady, let me escort you back to bed.”

“With the assassination attempt on Padme’s life. The one you and Anakin were around for,” she answered, keeping it short and sweet.

“You saw it?”

“I did,” she nodded, fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he dismissed, looking away from her and she had a creeping suspicion that he was not telling the truth. Nonetheless, she nodded her head before allowing herself a moment to take him in. He wore the plastoid armor similar to that of the clone troopers over the top half of his robes, and his lightsaber hung off his waist, shining and magnificent. He was more handsome than any man she’d ever seen in all her life of travels and meetings, negotiations and balls. Stuffy princes didn’t hold a candle to him.

“I see,” she mused, voice verging on playfulness. It was nice speaking to him, actual conversations instead of snippets of exchanges captured in dreams. “Well, let me ask you, do you ever see things?” She glanced over him, brows raised and lips curling upwards.

Her question settled into Obi-Wan’s mind and debated how truthful he wanted to be with his response. All his time and energy went into the Jedi Order, and fighting this war. He was strong with the force and worked to keep his balance, and he was a clever and impressive General in the GAR; but from time to time he saw her. Not often, not as often as she had visions, it seemed, but when he got the rare moment of rest, he could hear her voice and almost make out her face. When in battle, surrounded by blaster fire and chaos, he sometimes felt her presence next to him, swearing he saw her and a warm glow in his peripheral, yet when he risked a glance she was nowhere to be seen. It had started when he overheard her speaking to Padme the morning after the attempt on the senator’s life, voice slightly distorted over the holocall but still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

But was this something he wanted to admit to? Something he wanted to reveal in the corridor of a Temple that frowned upon attachments? But to lie to her, the thought of it made his stomach churn for some reason.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he settled, voice almost far away. Viarruh tilted her head slightly, contemplating the thoughts behind his eyes before he cleared his throat, seeming to come back to her. “The Force works in mysterious ways,” he nodded, grinning when the woman chuckled.

“That, I can understand. Perhaps you see with more than eyes, just as I do, Master Kenobi.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, looking straight ahead as he prepared himself for his next comment. “Though I don’t think there is anyone quite like you out there.”

Obi-Wan, while pleasant to be around, was becoming almost flirty. His voice was smooth and his accent curled his words nicely, as sweet as honey. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she could not stop it, could not prevent a full on, toothy smile growing on her face. The doors to the council room were in sight, just up ahead, and she looked as unserious as she could possibly be.

“I think you’re right,” she whispered, turning to face him when they were only a few feet before the doors. “But the same could be said about you.” She cleared her throat, wiggling her arms a little to reset, now looking at her companion with determination. “Wish me luck, I’ve got to speak with the Jedi Council.”

“Now that you mention it, I have a meeting to attend. Good luck, Your Majesty.”

With that, the doors slid open and Viarruh made her way inside the large room once again, the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi following her. When she reached the middle of the circle, he passed her and settled into his seat, and the added distance between them lessened the ease she had previously felt. Nerves began to settle into her again, as even Obi-Wan’s demeanor changed to that of a more stoic man, a Jedi wise beyond his years sitting amongst the council.

“Your Majesty, we’d like to thank you again for coming to us to speak,” the bald man sat next to Master Yoda began, voice just as serious as it was before. It was difficult to read him as he spoke and she found little comfort in the way his face remained stoney. “The information you presented to us is much appreciated, and has caused lots of discussion within the Council. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all, Master…?”

“Windu, Your Majesty,” he answered, bowing his head.

“Master Windu,” she repeated, nodding her head at him with a small smile. “Ask away.”

“What is your goal?”

Vague. A broad question asked simply and to the point, and it caused the woman to tilt her head ever so slightly. “My goal?”

“Yes. What is your goal in all of this?”

“Well,” she sighed. “Short term, I suppose it’s to convince you all to help me do what I can to join the war,” she gestured vaguely with one arm, holding the other out as she spoke again. “Long term, to do what’s right. To make a difference. To help people. Is that not everyone in this room's goal?”

“We are bound by oath,” came the voice of Master Mundi, interjecting and almost cold. “We are warriors of peace and fight to bring balance back to the galaxy, per our oath to the Jedi Order.”

“I am also bound by oath,” she countered lowly. “I was born into a position of power. I’ve held it all my life, and when I was just fourteen standard years old I obtained the highest rank you could possibly get on most planets. The responsibility may not be the same as yours, but it is a great one nonetheless; to keep people safe, to represent them, to protect them, that is what I do. And the oath I made was to always do what is right, what I need to do regardless of whether it is easy or not, whether it makes sense or not. And the Clone Wars are hurting people, and the Republic’s enemy stands for things that I would rather die fighting than let become the status quo in our galaxy. We may live different lives, Master Mundi, but our goals are very much the same.”

“You are very dedicated to this,” a male Nautolan observed, and all eyes turned to him. “It’s easy to see that this means something to you. I believe you when you say that our goals are the same, but this is still a very unusual situation, Your Majesty,” he explained, frowning slightly towards the end of his sentence.

“It is, I know that,” Viarruh assured sincerely. “But as unusual as it is for you, it is the same for me.”

“Your visions, hear more about them, may we?” Yoda questioned, pointing a clawed finger in her direction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Are they of the future?” Someone else questioned.

“Not entirely,” she answered, shaking her head. “My understanding is that they are things revealed to me because they need to be. It could be something from the past, I can see things as they are happening, and sometimes I do see the future, but you all know as well as I do that the future is never set in stone. Prophecies and destinies aside, seeing a vision of something that should happen doesn’t always mean it will happen.”

“What is the extent of your powers? What can you do, exactly?”

“I can do lots of things,” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “But I already told you that they’re still developing, I still don’t know what the extent is.”

“I saw a demonstration of Her Majesty’s abilities in the sparring room, and it was most impressive,” a familiar voice entered the conversation, backing her up as she stood under the eyes of the disbelieving. Her chest warmed as she caught his eye before they flicked to the next person to speak.

“Sparring room?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered smugly. “Her Majesty sparred with Anakin, and held her own for quite some time. I could only imagine what she would be like with just some formal training.”

Murmurs filled the room, soft and blended together, but she gathered that Anakin being her opponent was the hot topic. “Impressive, that is,” Yoda confirmed. “Needed, a demonstration is, perhaps.”

“I can give you a demonstration,” she promised, hand already coming up to point at the copper haired Jedi. Her palm faced upward, slender fingers curling slightly as she made miniscule movements. At first, no one was aware of what was happening, Obi-Wan being most confused of all, but then he felt a little tug at his belt. He looked down to see his lightsaber moving here and there, before it eventually lifted off his thigh and unhooked from his waist.

His mouth opened in shock, and he didn’t need to look to know he was not the only one, as they all watched his lightsaber float through the air, right into the hand of Viarruh Finnall. She ignited the weapon, blue blade shooting out from the hilt and bathing her in the cool hue. And because she lived for the dramatics, she twirled it around, a move that was like muscle memory to her, the whirring sounds of the energy blade filling the room. When she finished, she retracted the blade and her hand fell to her side.

“While I did lose my fight with Anakin Skywalker, I have won many more. I am not helpless, and I do not give up easily.” Her eyes bore into the council members one by one. “And I am not afraid, I was not built to be and cannot afford to be.” She continued to spin around, intending to make an impression on every person she looked at, and she knew it was successful from the look in each of their eyes. “Sometimes it is not enough to just be against darkness. If you have the ability to, should you not use the light?”

The severity of her tone and words had lodged itself in the chest’s of the Jedi Council, and before them stood not the naive queen they thought was coming to their planet. No, stood before them was Viarruh Finnall, Goddess of the Sun, the Sun Witch, Queen of Orret, in all her wisdom and confidence. She was passionate and unyielding, she was caring, and she was strong. This young woman, whatever she had gone through in her lifetime had made her tough enough to bear the weight of leadership, to dive head first into a war that she was never obligated to join, to look an evil in the face and stand steady against it.  

“If we were to say yes,” Master Windu broke the silence, sharing glances with those around him. “What would be your next course of action?”

It took her a moment to calm herself, dispelling some of the intensity in her words as she turned to look at the man. “Well, should you say yes, I would need to speak with Chancellor Palpatine next. I chose to meet with you first because, although the Chancellor makes the final decisions, having you all to back me up would speak louder to him than I ever could on my own. You, of course, are not obligated to, but it would be most appreciated if I had someone to accompany me to speak with him; and depending on his answer, I will head home,” she explained with a note of finality, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Home?” Master Mundi interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

“Yes,” she answered simply, looking right at him.

“And what do you plan to do about your status as Queen while you fight in this war? You cannot do both.”

“I would give it up.” She stated, in such a way that it seemed the answer was obvious. It did not weigh heavy on her tongue as she spoke matter of factly, though it did put pressure on her chest, bones feeling as if they could cave in. “My birthday is in a matter of weeks, and though it may seem frivolous, celebrations are quite the talk back home,” she explained, flicking some hair over her shoulder as she resumed her movements around the center of the room. “I will use it as my opportunity to announce my retirement from the throne, and present who I have chosen to replace me; her coronation will come only days after. Then,” she shrugged. “I’ll go wherever you tell me to, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

It seemed, for a frightening moment, that she was unable to get through to them. They all stared at her, mouths closed with no intention of opening to speak to her, and her shoulders grew heavy, fighting to slouch forward as the feeling of defeat tickled at her bones. She held her breath, eyes flickering between the men in front of her. Obi-Wan held contact before he looked away, seemingly speaking to Master Yoda without using words, and she clutched the hilt of his lightsaber a little tighter, the metal warm from her hold on it throughout her speech.

As she glanced towards Master Plo, a frown almost dipping the corner of her lips downwards, she missed the nod Obi-Wan sent his elder, and the one following from Mace Windu. Her attention snapped back as a throat was cleared, and eyes had returned to her, though the tone had shifted ever so slightly. Almost indiscernible, it was, but she saw it and dared to let hope bloom in her chest.

“Speak to the Chancellor, we will. Tomorrow,” Master Yoda decided, sliding down from his chair, beginning to make his way towards the woman. “To your home, I will go with you. Train you, I will.” When he stood before her, large eyes gazing into hers, he placed one hand over the other on top of his staff as it stood in front of him and he was the picture of wisdom.

For a moment, she did not have any words. She had said so much since she’d arrived at the Jedi Temple, but now that she finally had an answer from them, she had nothing to offer the Council. She was frozen in her stare with the green Jedi, lips parting ever so slightly as his words rang in her ears. “Thank you,” she breathed, relief making her feel so light it almost lifted her off the ground below. She blinked a few times, gathering her bearings as reality began to set in that she had done it.

“Easy, it will not be, Viarruh Finnall,” he promised, shaking his head.

“The things worth doing usually aren’t, Master,” she replied, when the hole burning into her became too much and she looked up, meeting blue eyes already looking. Obi-Wan smiled at her, blowing his head in a silent congratulations, and she smiled. It was similar to the one he had managed to get from her in the corridor, and her success coupled with just knowing him now made it impossible to stop it.

Master Windu was the next to rise, the others following suit, and the tall man joined them in the middle of the room. “When we speak to the Chancellor tomorrow, you will have our full support. All we ask in return, is that you follow through with your word,” he explained, holding his hand out for her to shake.

When her hand slipped into his, enveloped by the gloved and armored one, a familiar feeling washed over her quicker than ever, and she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. Obi-Wan pushed his way to the front, almost overwhelmed from how loud everyone’s voices were once they blended together in panic, before standing beside the woman but she was not seeing him. Her muscles tensed and her back straightened as she went rigid, fingers clamping around Windu’s hand tightly, and he attempted to pull away in alarm; it was a struggle, but he was eventually able to pry himself out of her hold as her eyes glowed brightly. Her brows were furrowed and breath was stuck in her throat and she looked almost pained, and it made Obi-wan’s heart clench in his chest. It alarmed him, how seeing her like this affected him, but there was no time to think about it as his hands grasped her shoulders.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he called, shaking her slightly but she remained frozen, golden eyes staring past him. Even when he grasped her face in his large hands because the choking sounds escaping her as air tried to fight its way to her lungs were scaring him more, she didn’t see him. His thumbs pressed into her cheeks as he turned her head to face him, almost yelling at her. “Viarruh! Breathe!”

When this very thing happened at home, no one could get through to the woman after her eyes lit up and she stopped breathing; screams and yells falling on deaf ears as her mind was taken over, but as she watched herself creep through the forest with a squad of clones and Mace Windu at her side, a voice echoed from somewhere. Who it belonged to, she could not tell, but it was comforting in its familiarity and lifted the pressure from her chest; everything became clearer as if a layer of dirt and grime had been wiped away, the plastoid armor glinting in the sunlight of the trooper who passed her. Outside of the vision, the blockage was removed from her throat, ripped away as oxygen rushed into her, and light burst out of her.

It was as if they were no longer in the council room, the group of people huddled together now standing in the same forest of her vision. She did not know they were there, could not feel them still, but they saw everything she did as it projected from her. They watched as everyone trekked on, the only sounds being the crunching and rustling of foliage and the sounds of wildlife in the distance; as Viarruh faltered in her step, causing the soldier behind her to bump into her, pushing her forward a few steps. Though, it looked as if she had paid it no mind, instead holding her hands out as if to steady herself, eyes flickering around before landing on the Jedi ahead of her.

And they could only stare as Windu continued on, having not noticed the absence to his left, and Viarruh lurched forward to reach him quicker. “Mace, no!” she yelled, grasping his shoulder to throw his body backwards, pushing him and their squad away from the pressure bomb cleverly disguised; but that also meant she was the closest to the explosion. The onlookers flinched as they were surrounded by heat and light and the deafening blow, watching in horror as the queen flew through the air, rolling backwards when she collided with the ground. She didn’t move much after her body settled, but Obi-Wan could see the way her eyes were blown wide, not seeming to focus on anything as she blinked. She didn’t respond to the calls of her name, not even noticing the people slowly searching for her, the ringing in her ears blocking out everything around her.

It was Windu who found her, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he walked up to her. “Viarruh,” he called, and it wasn’t until he saw movement to the side, and turned to see her leg poking through the tall grass. When he stood over her, he cringed slightly at the injuries he could see, and so did everyone else. Blood covered her face, dripping down from her hairline and smearing across her cheeks; parts of her shirt and vest were singed, still smoking, telling them she had burns as well. “Viarruh,” he tried again, and she only looked at him with wide eyes, giving him no indication that she heard him. He reached down with both hands, placing a couple fingers on her cheeks to move her head side to side, inspecting for anything else, and Obi-Wan was relieved to see nothing.

“Come on,” Windu grunted, picking her up and placing her on her feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he supported most of her weight. Then, the scene shifted, the same light as before filling the room before it all zapped into Viarruh, hitting her with a force strong enough to push her back a few steps when it collided with her chest, causing her to gasp loudly. Hands reached out to keep her upright, holding her steady on her feet as her eyes snapped shut before reopening, back to normal.

She was panting, gulping air down like she had been drowning, and the first thing she heard when she returned to the present was the worried voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his hands on her arms, having been the one to reach out to catch her. “Viarruh, are you alright?”

“That one was different,” she responded, shaking her head as her mind ran a mile a minute.

“Was that a vision?” Windu questioned, leaning closer to the woman.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes finally raising to meet those of the man that still cradled her. “But it was different, this one wasn’t the same as others.”

“Viarruh,” Obi-Wan called softly. “What do you mean by ‘it was different’?”

“Stronger, it was stronger,” she answered as the group of Jedi began to back away from her, giving her space now that she was back with them. “And I…could hear someone.” It confused her, left her wondering, because she had never heard anyone in her visions like that, never felt anything but alone as she lost control of herself.

“We didn’t hear anyone,” Mundi noted, looking around at the others. “Other than yourself and Master Windu.”

“Wait,” she jerked around, confusion growing more and more by the second. “Did you…did you all see that too?” She was met with nods from everyone, and she could only stand there in a stunned silence as her thoughts ran a mile a minute.

“Viarruh?” Obi-Wan questioned softly after there was still no response from the queen, and turned back around to face him.

“It…projected?” Her face was still twisted in disbelief, the events taking place sprouting question after question in her mind. The man nodded his head to answer her, raising his brows at her tone.

“Is that also newly unlocked?”

She had again looked away from him, eyes staring down at the floor as the dots began to connect, as the answers became clearer. “Yes,” she answered in a dazed voice. “It is.” It was the only reaction she could give him as realization dawned on her, showering over her as her gaze shifted upwards; it focused on the busy planet on the other side of the large windows, the sky turning a pleasant rosy orange as the day settled and plans were now in motion.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

#the witch: writes #—star wars #—signed; kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan x oc #obi-wan fic #obi wan fanfic #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan fic #the clone wars #the clone wars imagine #tcw #tcw imagine #obi wan imagine #star wars imagine

[sheisagoddess]

𝙰𝙷🫦

#she is a goddess #anakin x you #tcw anakin #clone wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin angst #anakin x reader #anakin fluff #anakin and ahsoka #anakin icons #sw anakin #star wars anakin #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin and padme #obi wan and anakin #anakin fanfiction

[rabb1ttrash]

As much as Rex loves his ARCs, they can be a little.... daft sometimes...

#captain rex #arc trooper fives #imagine hes saying this to anakin when hes explaining some droid jargon #star wars #the clone wars #sw tcw #this is pretty lazy tbh

[erosmutt]

☆ thinkin' bout . . .

. . . just arguing with husband!anakin.

𖦹 cheating, make up/hate sex, anal, doggy, asshole anakin, anakin refers to reader as 'bitch' once, specifically season 7 clone wars anakin (i won't be taking questions)

𖦹 accompanied by All I Need ⋆ Lloyd

"here we go," anakin mutters. you two had been at each other's throats for who knows how long, yelling like you'd lost your damn minds.

you glare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest. "yeah here we go anakin," you begin pacing again. "you aren't even listening to a goddamned word i'm saying, anyway!"

anakin, also with his arms crossed, shifts his weight from foot to foot, eyes narrowed. "you're acting out for no reason and you know it. you always want something to fucking complain about. always mouthing off. i could barely get in the house before you were bitching at me." well, that was true. you were waiting, itching to see him come through that door so you could lay into him.

about what? his infidelity. you knew while he was 'at war', he was fucking girls left and right. the smell of perfume you most definitely didn't own would cling to the fabric of his robes when he got home, and his bitchass didn't even try and hide it. he had no reason to, because he knew even if you did stand up for yourself and stop taking his shit, you'd come crawling back. because no one could fuck you like he can.

"am i wrong, anakin?! am i wrong for wanting to confront my husband about his little wartime adventures?" you yell, making him roll his eyes. "you're delusional, you know that? delusional!" when he says that, you immediately get in his face. "delusional, anakin? so i'm just imagining the stench of another woman's tacky perfume on you?" he chuckles and shrugs. he puts his hands on his hips. "might be. you're always cooped up in the house, probably starting to hear things."

"oh fuck you," you turn away. "those girls can have you. see if they put up with your shit like i do." he just smirks as he watches you, head tilted as his gaze fixes onto your hips and ass. "they don't," he begins in a murmur. "i don't stay long enough to give them a chance to."

he was so fucking cocky it made you want to bash your head into a wall. or his.

"is that your poor attempt at reassuring me?" you scoff. "spare me. just go away." anakin walks up to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. "come on baby, don't be like that." he caresses your shoulder, moving his hand down your bicep, to your elbow, pulling your arm back. "i'll stop, i promise." you knew better than to believe him, but he had a way of reeling you back in. no matter what you did, no matter how far away you went, you always ended up back on his dick.

he uses his gloved hand to move your hair out of the way and leans down, his soft lips pressing against the nape of your neck. "anakin, i know you-" he exhales softly. "you don't wanna give me a chance baby?" you feel him smile against your skin. you place your hands flat on the counter in front of you, voice wavering, "anakin,"

"ah-ah," he chuckles, a low vibration that draws a shudder from you that most definitely isn't lost on anakin. "i don't wanna hear anything from you." his hands end up at your hips, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your pants. "don't you think you've done enough talking?"

getting the hint, you go quiet, but still try to resist. after all, he did just come home after bending over who knows how many girls. with a heavy sigh, he pulls away from you. "so you're really gonna play it like this, huh?" anakin laughs quietly to himself. "you're such a bitch, no wonder i'm the only man who'll put up with your stubborn ass. i do so much for you, and you can't even give me the time of day?" he scoffs. "seems like every goddamned time i come home," he once again hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants, and snatches them down. "always giving me a problem," he mutters under his breath.

"maybe if you didn't give me any reason to, i wouldn't have to sleep around." was he really pinning this on you?! "you act like you don't run me away. it's like i have no other choice but to find comfort in another woman." he was removing his glove, discarding it on the counter along with his belt. his mechanical hand was cold as always as he grabbed your asscheek, artificial fingers digging into your flesh.

"anakin," you try again, but he doesn't let you get a word in. "yeah, anakin anakin anakin, you don't know what else to do with yourself besides bitch and whine." he spits down onto his flesh hand, then lubes up his cock. he smacks it onto your lower back, then spreads your ass to see your puckered asshole. "never letting me get a word in."

as his tip prods at your tiny hole, you gasp. "anakin, 's not gonna- aughh..." your words get caught in your throat as he tries to push in, and he can't help but smirk as he's met with resistance. "maybe you're right, but that's nothing a little force can't help. is it?" you swallow down a moan, and shake your head. "no, no, it can't," you let out a strangled moan as anakin pushes his round tip into you. you felt like you were already stretched to the brim, but his tip wasn't anywhere near the thickest part of his cock.

he leans over you and smiles, then presses a soft kiss just below your earlobe. "now let's try that again."

ᝰ.ᐟ @102hannah

#₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ bnuuy's drabbles! #૮( ꩜ ㅅ ꩜)ა bnuuy loves anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker #anakin #sw anakin #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #tcw #sw tcw #star wars tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars anakin #the clone wars season 7

[hardlystrictlystarwars]

One attachment left in the galaxy(Part 2.5)

Masterlist || Tag list || Requests/Prompt sheet || Requests

Prologue/Starter(Takes place a few years before on Kamino) || Part 1 || Part 2

The reality of a soulmate might show the cracks in a relationship

Warnings: Angst, tension

A/N: Oh my gosh it's been a while since I updated this story. I've had this written for a while but could never find the right transition so I decided to make it a little half chapter so I could work on the next scene I have in mind. Anyways thank you guys for being so patient with these updates, I've been swamped with three jobs and school starting soon.

Gif and picture used for inspo are not mine! All credit goes to the fantastic creators!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciative!

“I have to go Rex,” You said throwing your things into a bag, “Something went wrong with the last shipment,”

“What?” You have to leave right now?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows from his side of the bed, “It’s the middle of the night,”

“Blame the damn Coruscant Port Authorities,” You murmured. You could feel his eyes on you even in the dark as you moved around the room, collecting random papers you knew you would need.

You looked back at him once, right before you were about to exit. His eyes told you everything. You were skipping out on him again. His soulmate, the one thing in the galaxy that he thought made him special, was leaving him in the dark, alone, for the fourth time in the last week. It wasn’t any better when the other three nights he had been called in by his general for help.

“I wish I could stay,” was all that came out. 

Of course you had more that you wanted to say. You probably could’ve talked to him until the sun came up in the morning but there was no time. 

The last couple of months living together had been a mix of the best dreams and your worst nightmares, at least when he was planet side. The best were the small moments you had together, when you could almost feel your soulmate marks pull you closer to him. When he would make the both of you breakfast(technically your dinner), right after you got home from a long night and he would just be getting ready to start his day. Or him telling you about all the planets he had been to on his latest campaign, something you could never imagine having not even been to the top level of Coruscant. 

The worst was when you were rushing out to catch your shipments before port authorities got their hands on them or when he had to work a shift at the Port Quarters. The two of you had quickly learned that there was a very thin line in your relationship. One that wasn’t meant to be crossed. It was the only thing in your relationship that you avoided like the blue shadow virus: Neither of you ever talked about your work.

It was simple in theory. Rex wouldn’t talk about any of his missions and you wouldn’t tell him about any of your dealings in the underworld. 

Yet, nothing ever worked out to be what it seemed. Power dynamics and politics were constantly changing in the senate which always affected both of your works.

You could see the political power grab from the Supreme chancellor a mile away. It made your job harder as the senate started cracking down on not only the separatists, but also crime syndicates, gangs, and black market trading. Something they would’ve never touched before the war. 

Rex had also mentioned how thin his men were spread as it seemed he sent a different unit to a different planet every week.

It seemed like the two of you were being pulled in different directions every day, only the thin tie of your matching tattoos keeping you together. 

“Bye, I’ll miss you,” was all you said before heading out the door, not waiting to hear what Rex said.

Tags: @diagonallie5400 @yodasbitch @badbatch-simp24 @darkangel4121 @mylifeinthetardisforever @kathysica @alsheyra @salaminus @rintheemolion

#captain rex x reader #rex x you #tcw imagine #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars #tcw rex #tcw fic #tcw #the clone wars rex #the clone wars fic #the clone wars imagine #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex fic #captain rex fanfic #captain rex x you #captain rex

[bloatedandalone04]

Dating Anakin Skywalker would include;

Warnings: jealousy, descriptions of smut, smut, fluff, angst, kinks, swearing, more badly written headcanons

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

➪First things first; this man is jealous 99% of the time, let’s be real here.

➪Your relationship is forbidden, so Anakin isn’t able to show you off in all the ways he wants to.

➪All he’s allowed to do is train with you and sometimes is able to get away with pulling your back against his chest as he guides your saber down in a quick slash, but that is really it.

➪It’s nowhere near enough for him, but he puts up with it since he still gets to end most of his days with you in your secret shared room.

➪With that being said, even though he is a very jealous person, he is also very sweet.

➪When he wants to be.

➪But only with you.

➪You are the only person who gets to see his soft side.

➪You train together often since it’s really the only time you get to interact outside of your room, and he shamelessly admitted once that seeing you like that turns him on a lot.

➪Since you are a Jedi yourself, you and Anakin get to go on missions together and protect one another since you don’t really trust anyone else to do it.

➪It also allows for you to be around each other 24/7 without any suspicion being drawn to you.

➪And it usually allows Anakin to be all over you in the privacy of his ship/and or a separate room from the one at the temple.

➪Now....everyone says that he is a massive sub..not me.

➪I don’t buy it.

➪While he’s not a full blown dom (at least not until he turns to the dark side and then later becomes Vader), he’s also not a whiney sub who is just there for you to use.

➪He, of course, cares more about your pleasure than his own, but he also doesn’t act like he’s only a fucktoy for you.

➪Let’s be real, he is a lover, and therefore makes love to you in all the ways that leave you flustered and red in the face.

➪Now, that’s not to say he doesn’t have his full on dom moments.

➪When he gets super jealous, he’ll take you by the hand - and usually doesn’t care who sees, which is something he has to spend time later explaining - and take you back to his room to have his way with you.

➪He’ll say things like, “What were you doing with him, baby? Hm?” or “You think he can make you feel as good as I can? Does he really think that you’d let him?” while he’s railing you into an early grave.

➪With one hand gripping the headboard and the other covering your mouth so you’re not overheard, he is just completely letting out his jealousy and frustration of not being able to show you off like he wants to.

➪That being said, he’s not very quiet himself.

➪He usually has a swollen bottom lip by the time you’re both spent since he had to bite down on it hard to keep himself at least somewhat quiet.

➪His kinks are simple; marking, hair pulling and, you guessed it, choking.

➪He’s very careful with the way marks you, scattering love bites along your shoulders that are always covered by your robes, or on your inner thighs.

➪You’ve been with him for a long time, and saw the departure of his beloved braid, and when he decided to grow out his hair...oh boy.

➪His head had never been more sore.

➪You pull on it every time he takes you to bed, tugging the curls between your fingers with each thrust of his hips.

➪The headache he’d have afterwards was so worth it since he had been a bit nervous that you’d hate the new way he had begun styling his hair, and he was happy he couldn’t have been more wrong.

➪Choking....that should explain itself.

➪But the man loves wrapping his metal fingers gently around your throat, not nearly with enough pressure to block your airways but enough for you to feel it.

➪When he began to turn to the dark side, he definitely applied a bit more pressure, but still not enough to hurt you.

➪After all, you are the reason he lives and breathes, and he would never dream of causing you any type of harm.

➪His names for you are; sweet girl, angel, star and the occasional baby - but he usually saves that one for the bedroom.

➪You two eventually get married in the most lowkey wedding in the history of lowkey weddings, and exchange lightsabers as a way of showing your love.

➪Afterwards he took you away from Coruscant on a special mission - which was really just a fancy name for your honeymoon.

➪While it didn’t last long, Anakin did manage to get you pregnant, and that came with many problems.

➪Hiding it was a challenge, and hiding your son after giving birth was even harder, but you managed to do it for a while until you were able to get your own place in the city, where you and Anakin were able to raise him in peace and privacy.

➪Pick an AU; Anakin never turns to the dark side and gets to experience what it’s like to be a dad, or he does and you give up your son in order to protect him (and to keep him safe from his Sith father).

➪Either way, his love for you never falters and lives on through the memories you share together, whether or not he remains the loyal Jedi he was always meant to be.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen x reader #bloatedandalone hayden fic #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin imagine #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #sw anakin #tcw anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin star wars #star wars anakin #headcanons #anakin skywalker headcanons

[spicynectarines]

Redesigned the twins to give them a more Star Wars-y aesthetic also i love them

#imagine being 20 and still being padawans #embarrassing #they also have the same master cuz they’re oh so special #star wars #the clone wars #star wars oc #oc #art #fanart #fan art #sw oc #mikkian #tcw #sw #sw tcw #star wars art #star wars fanart