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#Anakin is very gender
starkcontrasts · 2 years
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obi-wan kenobi is stronger than me bc if i was "two halves of a single warrior, closer than friends, closer than brothers, knew each other more intimately than lovers" with a 6ft moody twunk i wouldn't walk away from him twice i'd simply dom him into stability
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saltpepperbeard · 7 months
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absolutely adore it when an ofmd post breaks out of containment and i see tags like "i don't go here but the vibe looks immaculate" or "i don't go here but i want to" or "i don't go here but the gender is incredible."
like it just makes me sit here and stare at my activity like
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aces-to-apples · 8 months
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I just want to thank Hayden Christensen for having a smile straight out of a romance novel. Man literally starts smiling with the right side of his mouth before anything else, it's insane. Thanks, man, it means a lot to me personally.
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thinking about padmé and gender. femininity is a performance and she’s winning
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blorbo-wan-kenobi · 2 years
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So, mayhaps I’ve been working on a fic & I just posted the 3rd chapter if anyone is interested… 👀👉👈
Obikin Casino fun times, Obi-Wan in a dress, Anakin being hopeless, and maybe they kiss….but it’s all for the mission you know.
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stelashe · 11 months
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Tumble is like radfems are everywhere be careful and the person saying it is one
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fanfic-obsessed · 3 months
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For the Republic
Here’s an order 66 fix it that is the confluence of several coincidental misunderstandings. Also why outsourcing your brainwashing is overall a bad idea. 
Let's set the stage, ok?
The first misunderstanding is relatively simple, near the beginning of the war.  A case of similar words causing confusions that is never cleared up.  In this case a series of conversations between various clones and their Jedi about the Jedi’s relationship with the Republic. These conversations leave the Clones, all of them, convinced that the Jedi Order belongs to the Republic, instead of being part of the Republic. You know, in the same way that the Clones belong to the Republic (No matter which side you argue is true, this was not what the Jedi meant). This confusion is so deep that when Slick betrays them all to Ventress, his rants are specifically toward the Republic, and do not mention the Jedi Order at all.   
The second misunderstanding is a bit more complex. It starts with the earliest flash training for the clones, the basics that are pushed so deep that none of the clones have any conscious memory of them, but are buried in the subconscious. Along with the Orders that would be enforced by the chips, there was the phrase ‘Jedi have Power’.  There are other trainings that get layered on top of it, but in the deepest part of the Clone psyche the most basic definition that they have for Jedi is ‘Jedi have Power’. But Power, as a term, is an abstract that can mean so many things.   And though they never realized it, the Trainers and Jango Fett and the Kaminoans taught the Clones a very specific definition of Power.  Power cannot be had by someone who belongs to the Republic and Power only belongs to those who use it (specifically those who use it to abuse others). 
By that definition their Generals and their Padawan Commanders and what is known as the Jedi Order are not Jedi. Instead the Clones view these beings as brothers (having very little grasp of gender) of a higher rank. Again this knowledge is buried so deep the Clones do not realize they think this.  It is instinct. Frankly the distinction is somewhat subtle, and is closer to how the Jedi wish to be treated (without the higher rank part) so no one notices the shift.
When Umbara happens the anger that the clones feel toward Krell is not the disbelieving anger of an idol's pedestal crumbling, but the same anger felt for Slick’s betrayal. 
When Order 66 happens, the Jedi become traitors. Except…the people that Palpatine intended to be killed were not considered to be Jedi. For Jedi had to have Power, and Power only belonged to those who were free, and only those who showed their Power. 
The way that many of the Natborn officers did. 
So the Clones immediately turned their weapons on the Naval officers who had been abusive, primarily to Clones or Jedi, but also some instances of civilian abuse as well. 
On Coruscant, Anakin begins to lead the 501st to march on the temple. Only, as soon as they realized where they were headed, they stopped their general, confused. There are no Jedi there, they say.   Anakin says something about Palpatine having the Power to save Padme. This leads Appo to the conclusion that Palpatine is a Jedi Traitor, who has done something to their General (which yes, but also no). The 501st stuns Anakin, with some taking him to the temple for deprogramming, or whatever needs to be done to counteract whatever the Jedi Traitors did. 
The rest march back into the Rotunda to hunt the Jedi Traitor Palpatine. They are met by Fox, who shrugs and goes with them (with his own platoon of CG) without argument when Appo says that Palpatine is a Jedi.  The active chips do muffle the Clones in the Force, a deliberate feature that Palpatine never thought could be used against him. 
So Palpatine, the shiny new Emperor, is Emperor for about 20 minutes before he is shot through with so many bolts that he is basically left a goo on the floor. This bypasses every single one of his backup plans, many of which could not be fully put in place until he was Emperor, so there is no ‘Palpatine returns’.
 At the temple roughly a dozen members of the 501st enter the Healing Halls, carrying a stunned Anakin Skywalker. Even stunned the healers can tell he is in some kind of mental breakdown. The healers (who do filter out anything that is not helpful o figuring out what is wrong with their patients, so ignore the whole ‘Palpatine the Jedi traitor’ thing) take from what the troopers have to say that they believe that Anakin may be possessed by something and that he is worrying about Padme Amidala’s health, both of which are causing the breakdown.  
So Padme is collected by the rest of the 501st and brought to the healing halls, and it is decided that Anakin will be kept unconscious until his former Master, Obi WAn,  is back on planet (if he is possessed then having his loved ones there is the best bet for breaking through and of Anakin’s loved one Obi wan would be the best equipped to not be killed). The healers, upon seeing Padme’s pregnancy, insist on a full exam. During this exam it is discovered that, due to a growth on her pelvic bone, a natural birth would likely be fatal to her and possibly the children (I do love the idea that Palpatine was feeding Anakin those visions, or that the visions were caused by Palpatine or Anakin causing Padme’s death, but it is also interesting to think that the visions were legitimate and the cause was something natural). Padme is scolded for not seeking out proper prenatal care, which would have noted the problem. The healers schedule her for an induced c section closer to her due date and ask that she check in daily (or sooner if she starts feeling anything weird) to make sure there is nothing else.
 The Coruscant Guard continues to hunt through the Senate for ‘Jedi’, of which there is less than you would think. Yes a couple of hundred who meet the clone definition, but that is out of more that 100,000 beings in the building at any one time (with almost 25,000 systems represented, if  assume an average of 2 senators per system, that is 50,000 senators. With a retinue of aids, guards, interns, and others that easily clears into 100,000). 
And there is just…so much confusion (I find that I love pairing ‘Order 66 happened differently’ with ‘and everyone is confused’, it gives me great joy). 
 From the point of view of the Jedi, between on moment and the next the clones decided it was time to mutiny and the only explanation that is given is ‘The Jedi are traitors, we must kill the traitors’ as the clones continuously fail to shoot any Jedi (Like even the stormtroopers of canon do not fail to hit their stated targets this badly), though the clones have shot many people.  
From the point of view of the Senate, between one moment and the next the Clones chose high treason with no explanation (Because no one conscious on Coruscant knew that Palpatine was a Sith and the beings that knew about the chips and Order 66 ended up pretty high on the ‘Traitor Jedi’ list and killed).   
In the Force, and the Manda, respectively, Palpatine and Jango Fett were watching this happening with their own confusion. This was not the plan. 
 The Generals do eventually get an order to the clones to capture instead of kill the ‘Jedi traitors’.  By this point the Coruscant Guard had cleared the Senate and were just starting to descend levels of Coruscant in search of Jedi traitors. It is not too long after this that Mace Windu is found and brought back to the Temple, near death.  They also figure out why the Clones do not consider the Jedi, Jedi. It is decided that they cannot correct the Jedi definition issue until they figure out the ‘shoot the Jedi’ issue. 
In this version the chips do not do anything to the personalities or memories of the clones, they simply reinforce the flash training for the Orders and remove any ability to disobey. 
With the 212th, Obi Wan had spent a decent amount of time over the course of the war finding excuses to get rid of nat born officers that treated the clones as less than sentient. With his mindset of ‘a certain point of view’ he was pretty successful. There were still a handful in the higher command (the higher the officer was in the command structure, the harder it was to get rid of them) but none of the natborn officers that would be on the ground, or even in communication with the forces on Utapau.  Though the activation of the chips and the death that followed caused a bit of a shiver in the Force, it was not the screaming darkness of Canon and was lost in the madness of battle.  
So it was not until they were being transported back to the Resolute that Cody, quite proudly, announced that the Jedi traitors had been routed from the 212th.  Obi Wan had questions.  Cody answered with things that explained nothing 
Obi Wan: Jedi…Traitors?
Cody (nodding): The Jedi have been discovered as traitors to the Republic, Sir,  a kill on sight order is now in effect.
Obi Wan: I don’t remember anyone trying to kill me?
Boil (Visibly offended, even through his bucket): You’re no Jedi, general.
Obi Wan: I’m…I’m not?
Every Trooper on the ship in unison: Jedi have Power.
Obi Wan (Internally):What does that mean? WHAT DOES that mean? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
Cody (Now looking a little concerned): Sir, you've gone really pale. Do you need a medic? 
They head back for Coruscant.  On the way Obi Wan receives a series of messages.  First, there are no high council members currently conscious on Coruscant. There should have been five. Anakin had been stunned by his own trooper, is possibly possessed, and is being held unconscious just in case. Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Kit Fisto have simply vanished. Mace Windu had been missing but was found and is now in Bacta with extensive injuries sans one hand. 
No one had been told that those four members had been going to confront Palpatine and as soon as Palpatine had been killed (in a hallway), his office had been automatically locked down. So no one knows that behind the shielding are the bodies of three Jedi Masters. 
Second, not only was the 212th not the only battalion to commit some form of mutiny, the 501st and the Coruscant Guard had apparently abruptly decided that high treason was a reasonable action. All the while claiming that they are hunting Jedi Traitors (with not a single person they shot being a Jedi).  The senate had also apparently realized that without the Coruscant Guard, there is not enough manpower to stop the Clones from killing whomever they wished (Much of the Senate had been so proud of the cost cutting measure of reducing the non clone security forces).
Third, since the remaining members of the council were spread throughout the galaxy (with Obi Wan being the closest), as soon as he arrived on Coruscant Obi Wan would be in charge of figuring out what was going on with the Clones, before the Senate found enough people to capture them. Then deal with the political clusterfuck of mutiny and high treason (as the Clones were considered part of the Order). Find time to help Anakin. 
Killing Grievous was supposed to give Obi Wan less to do, not more.  With the knowledge that there is something wrong with the Clones, he cannot even flirt with Cody (They had an understanding about exploring a romantic relationship after the war ended, but as stress relief both would flirt back and forth and see how explicit they can get before someone called them on it-The only reason no one had yet is because the 212th had a bet going on CodyWan admitting they are together and no one wants to be disqualified by influencing the results).  
It should be made clear, Obi Wan still does not know at this point that Palpatine is the Sith. He does not know that there are chips in the clones. He has no idea that Anakin had chosen to fall (though it did not really go anywhere) and is likely going to wake up half willing to slaughter everyone. He doesn’t even really know that Padme is a week away from being induced (still early but the healers do not want to wait any longer).
So even as he is contemplating everything on his plate, Obi Wan does not even know the half of it. 
By the time Shaak Ti, who had to corral Kamino (in which roughly half the Kaminoans in Tipoca city and a third of the remaining trainers were accused of being Jedi by both the battalion stationed there and the cadets), is back in contact, the bodies of the missing Masters were found.  She is the one to float the idea of a malfunction to the chips (the report about Tup and Fives was still in the ‘to be reviewed’ queue for the Jedi Council-The Council is about 12-18 months behind on reviewing mission reports).  
The news of the chips…does not make things better.
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the-spaced-out-ace · 5 months
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I am DYING to know your trans Pete headcanons if you have any 💚
oh god i forgot about this ask i am so sorry. uhhhhh i have So Many transoffski thoughts
Pete tried to cut his hair with office scissors the moment his egg cracked (and was rushed to get a real haircut that same day, all while he's still Processing)
Ted was the first person he came out to. To Me
Probably only very recently started T in NPMD given his squeaky voice and the "puberty's got me fueled" line
I cannot explain it but I think one of his earliest instances of experiencing gender envy was from Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith specifically
Additionally, he tried to name himself after Anakin but Ted vetoed that HARD
so he went for the next best thing. Peter after Peter Parker
Sometimes I think about the "I can't grow a mustache yet" line in Abstinence Camp and it leads me to decide that all Spankoffski men can grow facial hair pretty easily and he's slightly impatient for the day that his finally starts coming in
in my head Ruth and Richie are also both trans. You know how in gay friend groups one person coming out for the first time leads to a domino effect of everyone else doing the same? Yeah. Pete was the instigator for his.
More specifically he came out as trans at the beginning of sixth grade.
The Micro-Peter incident happened towards the end of the year because a bunch of 12 year olds really not understanding anatomy but understanding boundaries even less? Idk given the bullying he's shown to go through it seems possible (sorry pete
100% projecting here but rather than the stereotypical black his oversized dysphoria hoodie at age 13 was bright blue
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yourneighborhoodporg · 3 months
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Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want
Little Red Dress
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker
Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.
Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!
A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)
Words: 8.1k
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She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller
Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.
Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.
No. It wasn’t any of that at all.
Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.
Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.
Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.
Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.
Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.
A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.
But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.
With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.
Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.
They just couldn’t risk it.
Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.
So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.
Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.
Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.
That’s where you came in.
A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.
Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.
That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.
Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.
That you weren’t by their side.
Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.
It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.
Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.
“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.
“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”
In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.
“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”
Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”
Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.
“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”
Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.
A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.
“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”
And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.
But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.
And he really did treasure you for that.
“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”
Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.
But that would soon change.
“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.
“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“
Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.
“And don’t stray.”
Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.
“I don’t stray, Master.”
If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.
About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”
Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.
Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.
Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.
Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.
But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.
So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.
It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.
But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.
Causing you to, once more, question their absence.
“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.
Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.
You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.
Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.
And you adored them for that.
That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.
Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.
But they were just that. Jedi.
And so were you.
So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.
And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.
Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.
Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.
Kriff.
“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”
You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.
“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.
You spoke lowly.
“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”
“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.
You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.
Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.
But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.
Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—
The seven missing Kyber crystals.
With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.
You opened your eyes.
“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.
Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.
“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.
You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.
“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.
Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.
“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”
You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.
“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.
“Take this to the bar.”
“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.
Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.
It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.
Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…
Kenobi wasn’t daft.
He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.
And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.
Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.
The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.
Just Anakin being Anakin.
“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”
The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.
“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”
Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.
“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”
Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.
“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”
Skywalker’s confident air faltered.
“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”
Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.
Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.
“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”
The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.
It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.
The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.
It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.
One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.
It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.
So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.
Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.
Until it was too soon gone.
Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.
“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”
But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.
“Um, you look—“
“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.
“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“
“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.
Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.
“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.
Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.
You had a decision to make.
But, really, was there a choice at all?
Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.
Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.
Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.
But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.
So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.
Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.
“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.
There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.
Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.
A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.
If that was even possible.
Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.
“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”
And that made the former slave’s blood boil.
“I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”
“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.
Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.
“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”
You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.
It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.
“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”
Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.
“That’s extremely risky.”
“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.
Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.
“I have it,” he spoke lowly.
And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.
An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.
But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.
“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”
While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.
The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.
Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.
All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.
“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”
Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.
“…you know where it is.”
What was happening?
That was the main question you were asking yourself.
Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?
You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.
No.
You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.
You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.
Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.
“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.
This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.
It was you.
You who were making him feel such a way.
Ever and always.
On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.
Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.
He needed to do something about that
Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.
You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.
This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.
Especially in the middle of a mission.
“You should listen to him.”
Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.
At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.
“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”
But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.
Through his words and with his hands.
Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.
Your breath hitched.
“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”
Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.
But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.
You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.
“Wait for my signal.”
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.
The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.
Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.
“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”
Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”
“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”
The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.
“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”
“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”
Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.
“Going once! Going twice!”
“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.
Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.
Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”
“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”
Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.
“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.
“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”
Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.
“Then we do what we must…”
The bearded Jedi swallowed.
Hard.
“…we help her.”
A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.
There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?
The signal had just been fired.
Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.
Then came the blasters.
As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.
You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.
“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.
“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”
You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.
But it was their turn to stay firm.
“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.
So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.
And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.
Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.
You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.
What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.
In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.
“What are you—“
Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.
Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.
Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.
It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.
Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.
But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.
What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?
No, that couldn’t be right.
Then, he pushed off the wall.
Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.
And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.
So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.
“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.
You loosely exhaled.
“Where did that—“
Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.
They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.
Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.
It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?
Something must have happened.
Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.
“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.
“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”
“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.
You raised a brow.
“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”
Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”
You melted at his words.
“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”
“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.
“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”
You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”
Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.
“Which one of us you want back.”
Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.
“I can’t…”
You watched while their faces deflated at your words.
“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“
“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”
Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”
You bit your lip.
“I want you both.”
Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.
A pleasant chill ran down your spine.
“Is that alright?” You whispered.
Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.
“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”
“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.
Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.
“As close as possible.”
And the Jedi obliged.
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Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)
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Hihi! :) could I please request some headcannons for various star wars boys with a really short reader? (Your star wars boys marriage headcannons was so good it urged me to send you this ask hehe 😆)
Various Star Wars Boys Headcanons: With a Short! Reader.
A/N: Hi, thank you so much! I am super sorry for the hella long wait, but unfortunately, between school and work I've had absolutely zero free time. Hope you'll still enjoy this anyway! Also, I fell like I should point out that there are mentions of wearing heels in a few of the headcanons, but it's all still very gender neutral.
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, The Mandalorian\Din Djarin, Poe Dameron, Cal Kestis.
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Obi-Wan Kenobi:
-Obi-Wan will probably not even notice your height for quite a while, he's not one to really pay attention to physical appearances. He will only realise how tall he is compared to you once he starts to develop feelings for you, and even then he will never treat it like a big deal. Might not even mention it unless you do it first. 
-Appreciates when you wear heels, not because he thinks you look prettier with them on, he always thinks you're stunning no matter what, but because it really helps his neck and back to not have to lean\look down quite as much. Forgive him, he's not quite as spry as he used to be. 
-But if you wear them because you feel insecure about your height? Obi-Wan will do anything he can to dissuade you from wearing them. Whether with more subtle comments or with showers of compliments, he will absolutely not rest until he is sure you know how amazing you are. 
-If you were to try and climb something because you cannot reach a high place, Obi-Wan will insist on doing it for you. He usually never stops you from doing things on your own, mostly because he doesn't want to overstep; Independence is important and no matter how much he'd rather do everything for you, he knows you have lived most of your life without him, and you are more than capable of looking after yourself, but he really can't refrain himself from helping you when there's a chance you might injure yourself. If you really want to do it on your own, he will understand, but please, for his sake, won't you at least let him stand behind you so that he could catch you if you were to fall?
-Obi-Wan is notoriously almost impossible to fluster, he is too mature and also, but that is something reserved only for you, too suave for it, and although you might have tried in the past, you have never quite found his weakness. Until one day, without even thinking about it, you decided to wear his robe. The instant he came home and saw you, he flushed to the tip of his ears. He is still going to at least try and keep his composure to compliment you as he usually would, but stars above you're killing him.
He's definitely going to stay closer than usual for the rest of the day, and for as shy as he has suddenly gotten, he won't refrain himself, because that wouldn't be fair to you, from showering you in appreciation, just don't tease him or you might actually give him a heart attack. He really isn't used to this after all.
-Even if you are not insecure about it, Obi-Wan will never tease you about your height. Even when he pokes some lighthearted fun at you, he always makes sure to steer clear of the more "serious" things like personality or appearance. He never wants to risk actually hurting you. 
-Obi-Wan absolutely takes the time to help you find shops that sell petite clothing options. Whenever he's travelling, be it with you or because he's on a mission, if he finds himself in a city or market he will make sure to keep both of his eyes open.
He also keeps a list of all the places he deems good enough, with little scribbled stars next to the ones he's positive you'd like. He knows how difficult finding your size tends to be for you, and that more often than not you end up having to make alterations anyway, so he's really glad to make that tedious job easier.
-When the two of you walk next to each other Obi-Wan always watches his strides. A step for him equates to two for you, and he never wants you to get tired by running after him.
Anakin Skywalker:
-Considering his height Ani can, and 100% will, hold the things you were trying to reach for so high above your head that no amount of stretching will be of any help. Don't worry, he's going to give them back even immediately… as long as you are willing to pay the ransom. Which will always consist in a kiss, it is so unoriginal that at some point you started doing it before he even got the chance to ask.  
If you were ever to suggest that he could simply ask for a kiss, you're going to hear a minutes long rant about why he's definitely not going to do that, and how could you make him renounce his fun, he's already a Jedi, have some compassion.
-While hugging Anakin you will be lifted off the ground, and more often than not spun around too. It doesn't matter at all how much you weight, you're still so small, and honestly, he could hold you close for hours on end if he got the chance, do you really expect him to stay bent down for that long? Still, you can definitely tell that he not-so-secretly loves your height difference, even when he uses this as a chance to poke some lighthearted fun at you. 
-Being the voice of reason in your relationship comes with the slight downside that Ani can't stand when your arguments make more sense than his, especially if you start sounding like Obi-Wan. He is not going to get angry at you, but when he's annoyed, he definitely becomes aggravating.
Especially because he loves to pretend that he can't hear you when you're making a good point. What do you expect him to do, he's so tall, and you're so short, of course he can't hear you, maybe you should get a megaphone or better yet, a ladder. On a strangely positive note, if you kick his shins to make him bend down and listen, he's not even going to pretend to be upset about it, but he is going to laugh.
-If all your climbing skills are getting displayed while you're trying to reach something that is a little too high and Anakin is there to witness, you will surely hear cheers and a little too loud encouragements being thrown at you. For once, he's not actually being embarrassing on purpose, and he will help you if you ask him to, but he won't offer to aid you himself, why should he? He knows you're more than capable of doing it on your own, and anyone with even a slight Force affinity would be able to tell that he is more than ready to catch you, but he’d much rather clap for you once you've managed it on your own.
-Ani couldn't care less if you can kick his ass into next week with your eyes closed, he still feels like he needs to shield you from all the dangers of the world. Well, to be honest, he'd still feel that way no matter your height, but he'd be lying if he said that your small stature doesn't intensify his need to hold you close and never let go. Also he really loves feeling like your protector, it makes him feel needed. 
-If you are ever at a concert, event or any other situation that would require you to look at something while in the middle of a crowd, Anakin will either find you a place where you can actually see, or straight up lift you over his shoulders. He doesn't wait for you to ask, and he never complains, and if anyone else tries to make a mean comment about it, he's gonna give them a single look that will make them instantly shut up.
Luke Skywalker:
-Luke always leans or sits down when he's talking to you, he doesn't want to make you feel like he's towering over you, or for you to have to bend your neck to look up for too long. 
-Like father like son, Luke will also pick you up while hugging you, but accidentally. He doesn't even realise the moment your feet start lifting off the ground, and in all probability neither did you, not when you're both melting into each other. If you point it out, he will immediately lower you back down and apologise, and although he will definitely be more careful, he isn't going to let go, he has no problem being the one to bend down.
-Luke has no problem whatsoever with your height, and he pretty much forgets about it most of the time. But there are other times, like when you're curled up while sleeping and you look so small, or when the two of you are holding hands and his engulfs your own, or when you have to ask him to bend down for a kiss, that he can’t refrain himself from finding you… adorable. He never says that out loud in case it might hurt your feelings, or make you think that he doesn't realise what a force of nature you are, but you might still figure it out anyway, when he looks at you like you're the most precious thing he has ever seen.
-On that same note, Luke will absolutely melt if you ever wear something of his. Whether it is a shirt that reaches almost all the way to your knees, or his robe that he gives you when you're cold within which you almost disappear, has little importance, either way his face is going to tint red and a lovesick smile is going to spread across his face, no matter how many times he has seen you before.
-If you ever were to hide behind him for whatever reason, he is going to get comically proud of himself, but really, Luke doesn't often get the chance to feel big and strong, and although he definitely is, he is also often underestimated until he proves himself, also, most of the people he cares for are fighters to the core and extremely independent, so he doesn't often get the chance to be a protector and he will admit without shame, that it feels really nice to know that you look to him for reassurance.
-When you are walking together through a thigh packed crowd, Luke will stand in front of you and shield you with his body. It is one of the very rare times where he doesn't ask for your permission to do something for you, of course you could do it without him, but if he can spare you from even just a single push or elbow to the ribs, if he can prevent even a single bruise, than to him it is worth your indignation. But if you were to thank him for being thoughtful? He's a goner.    
Han Solo:
-It goes without saying that Han wouldn't be Han if he didn't always have a ‘short’ joke ready. 
Although he is uncharacteristically optimistic when facing impossible odds, any other time his cynicism is his most predominant feature, so, say you were to say something along the lines of “Everything is going to be alright.” his response would be that “Of course you're an optimist, you're always looking up.” 
Or if you were to pick a fight with a guy, Han would not be able to stop himself from remarking that “Honestly sweetheart, you should go for it, i'll even bet on you. Of course I've got faith in you! You're the perfect height to punch where it'll hurt most.” before getting the two of you out of the situation.
And of course the evergreen classic “How's the weather down there, Sweetheart?”
-Han calls you anything except your name. His preferred nickname for you is always ‘shortcake’, no matter how serious the circumstances. But, in a situation where your small stature is actually useful, maybe because you fit into a tight space, he will add 'Vertically Efficient’ in front of it; Likewise, when your height ends up hindering you, which let's be honest happens far more often than not, you will get demoted to 'Vertically Challenged Shortcake’. The man is ruthless.
-Han rests his arm on your head often. He doesn't even always do it to jab at you, he genuinely finds it a comfortable position, and I’m not sure whether that makes it better or worse. But he also, when the two of you are alone and he is feeling soft, rests his chin on your head and holds you close.
And let's not forget the forehead kisses, so many forehead kisses. It's easier than bending down to kiss your lips, especially if he is in a hurry, and it also has the bonus point of being the easiest place to reach while he is holding you to his chest.
-Han can, and without a doubt will, pretend to lose you if you find yourselves in a crowd, and he will find it absolutely hilarious. You could be standing right in front of him, maybe even be screaming at him that you are right there and to stop being an ass, and he would still look everywhere except down. If he actually ends up upsetting you, Han will grumble for a few minutes before trying to make it up to you, he really is sorry, he just never knows when to stop.
-As I said before, Han can be quite a bit of an ass when he wants to be, and when it comes to you, oftentimes even when he doesn’t actually intend to be mean. Unfortunately for the both of you, old habits die hard, and it is not rare for him to accidentally piss you off, especially when he gets a great laugh at your expenses.
Like the times he catches you struggling to reach something, and ends up finding your efforts hilarious. You’d have to plead with him for a while, before he makes any move to come to your rescue, and even then he won’t stop laughing until you get angry, you just might end up avoiding asking him all together, and find a solution by yourself.
When Han sees how crafty you can get to reach what you want, he will be genuinely quite impressed, but the best thing that will come out of his mouth will be something along the lines of “I've really gotta hand it to short people… because you usually can't reach it anyway.”
-Sure, Han might tease you to death, but Force help anyone else who dares to, especially if they actually hurt your feelings. He is ready to throw hands without a second of hesitation, and he will make the offender apologise. 
The Mandalorian\ Din Djarin:
-Din never, ever, lets you get on your tippy toes or stretch your neck to kiss him. He will always bend down before you can even try to reach him, you'd almost think he has developed a sixth sense about it, and no matter how much you complain that he must already be tired and that it is no good for his back, he always shrugs and insists that he'd much rather it be his neck rather than yours. He'll forget all about it as soon as your lips touch his anyways, so he really doesn't mind.
-For as terrible as it sounds, Din is quite used to the child's height already, and although you are nowhere nearly as short, it simply means that he is already attuned to looking out for someone much smaller than him. He knows without even having to think about it whether something is a little too high up for you to reach, he instinctively looks for the smallest chair for you to sit on so that your feet won't be left dangling, and is just overall very aware of your size. In a good way, I swear.
-On kind of the same note, every time you wear heels, even more so if it isn't often, he instinctively looks lower than needed to meet your eyes. Din can get quite embarrassed about it and he always tries to adjust his stare as subtly as he can, and although his visor does help, it is not rare for you to catch him raising his head a little. It ends up looking quite silly, mostly because of how unnecessarily hard he tries to hide it, and you end up laughing at it a few times.
-Absolutely no climbing will happen under this man's watch, you could try to while he's asleep and he'd probably still get up to stop you, as I said before, he kind of has a sixth sense about it, it's the dad in him.
Din has no problem at all going out of his way to get you what you need, you won't even have time to try before it's already in your hands, especially if it stops you from trying to balance on three awkwardly piled stools, a cardboard box, a cluster of random objects he doesn't even understand how they're supposed to help, and way too many hopes and prayers. Honestly, he has seen this happen one time exactly, and it took twenty years off of his lifespan. Never again.
-Din truly doesn't want to underestimate you, your height doesn't make you fragile in any way, he knows that, but he still ends up being extra protective of you. One of the things he is the most glad for, is that your shorter stature makes it easier for him to cover you with his body. He's always wearing full body armour, and you most probably aren't, which is why he always thanks the stars every time someone is shooting at the two of you and him moving in front of you is enough to make you practically disappear.
-Din might not be a tailor, but he has mended his fair share of clothing throughout his life, and has become quite adept at it as well. And although he might not be able to make you clothes from scratch, he is more than able, and willing, to help you alter pretty much anything. Sawing with you, chatting about the day's events, maybe while enjoying the calming scenery of a beautiful planet as the child plays just a few meters away, has become one of his favourite ways to spend time with you and simply unwind.
Poe Dameron:
-Poe carries you around constantly, so much so that you fear you might forget how to use your own legs. He insists that considering you always end up on him one way or another, and it is mostly by his own doing with how much he likes having you close, you might as well enjoy the free rides.
But honestly, he kind of lacks the patience to slow down his steps so that you won't have to run after him, especially when he's particularly excited about something. Not that he wouldn't do it of course, he does, but to him it's much more convenient to just scoop you up and hurry to where you want to go.
-At times, when he can't refrain himself from teasing you, Poe will ask you to repeat what BB8 said, that he obviously understood just fine, because: “you can hear him better from down there”. 
His jokes are never mean, and it is rare that he mentions your height at all, but when he does, most of the time it's something along the lines of him hugging or kissing you, and then remarking that he is “appreciating the little things”.
-Poe thinks you are absolutely adorable, and he will say so to your face. With him, no pride will be spared, at all. Why would he anyway, sure, your small stature makes you really cute, but why should that take away from your capability to kick ass? He is a firm believer in taking pride in every aspect of oneself, and when it comes to the greatest person he knows, he wants you to be proud of all that you are.
-On that same note, he will heavily dissuade you from wearing heels if you only do it because you are insecure of your height. You are stunning, and he reminds you of that every chance he gets, short or tall, you are always radiant, no need to be unnecessarily uncomfortable. 
He also not so secretly loves your height difference, but that has nothing to do with his unconditional appreciation of you, although he really does like how well you fit into his chest when he holds you.
-Poe is the type to straight up ask you to wear his clothes. He doesn't know what the word subtle means, and he is really big on communicating what he is feeling and what he likes, so he sees no reason not to outright tell you how hot you look in his oversized shirts. If he already cannot keep his hands to himself for the life of him, be prepared to have him practically glued to your side the entire time you are donning his clothes. 
-Poe will panic if he cannot find you in a crowd. The moment he loses sight of you he is in ‘rescue mode’, even though you are probably not in any danger, nobody kidnapped you in the half second he took his eyes off of you, and you in all likelihood did not get trampled by the crowd. 
It is a bit better if he just lost you at base, he is at least sure you aren't in mortal peril then, but he might still resort to climbing something and call your name to find you as fast as he can. Yes, the people around you will think him insane, and yes, you might be tempted to pretend you do not know him, but please let him know you are alright, poor boy is worried.
-If you are having trouble reaching something, Poe will just lift you up and down to get it. Sure, he could get it for you, and that would be easier, but he doesn't want to do it in your place, unless you ask of course, he's simply trying to be the safer version of climbing a stool. It's also pretty much a constant ‘Simba moment’, which he finds hilarious. 
Cal Kestis:
-Every time he's tired Cal rests his chin on your head, and whenever you are tired, you rest your head against his shoulder. You two are so adorable that it's enough to give everyone who sees you diabetes. Jokes aside, Cal is all about these casual, lighthearted displays of affection, and the fact that you two fit together so nicely is a great bonus.
-Unlike Han, Cal might actually forget to look down if he lost you in a crowd. He isn't trying to tease you, and he finds you quite quickly anyway, but he does have a tiny moment of confusion if he can hear you or sense you, but can't see you. He's going to laugh at himself for a while when he finally looks down and sees you standing there with a disappointed face. 
You'd think that, like Din, he would be used to BD-1’s height, but his little companion is perched on his shoulder most of the time, so Cal might actually try to look behind himself before remembering to look down.
-Cal doesn't immediately come to your 'rescue’ when you're trying to reach something that's a little too high, even if you start climbing, simply because he doesn't want to overstep. You've got it, he knows that. He's just going to continue with whatever he is doing, while also keeping you in the corner of his eye, in case of a fall, and his ears open in case you do call for his help, in which case he will be by your side in a second.
-Cal never means to tease, but at times he might end up doing it accidentally. It's never mean, and it's usually just lighthearted comments about how small you are, never in a negative way. But if you do find it irritating, or you'd simply rather not hear it, you will only have to express it to him once, and he will do his damned best to watch his mouth from there on out. 
-Cal has the time of his life anytime someone underestimates you, whether it is a physical type of fight or a verbal smackdown, he is just glad he gets to be present for it. Seeing them starting out all smug and full of confidence and then watching you kick their, literal or metaphorical, ass into next Thursday never fails to have him in stitches.
He also might or might not end up accidentally, and dramatically, quoting Shakespeare to them, something like "And though she be but little, she is fierce", it's up to you to decide whether you find that flattering or terribly embarrassing.
-Cal always, and I do mean always, wants to share earbuds with you. It's pretty much his unofficial love language, and he has a whole lot of playlists he made for you to listen to together on different occasions. He has a special soft spot for walking around hand in hand, enjoying the sights, and listening to your favourite songs. And he's not going to renounce to this little tradition even when all you have are wired earbuds, and your height difference means he has to walk leaning to the side the whole way. Sure, his back might hurt in a few hours, but the happiness he feels when the two of you get to relax in your shared little world is way more than worth it.
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phoenixyfriend · 2 months
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Imagining the kind of discourse that the tiktok baby queers would make about me if they ran into my Anakin Is Very Gender fanfics and it would give me nightmares if I didn't know most of them are like fifteen
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lovelybucky1 · 8 months
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a little gross drabble inspired by @hanasnx’s most recent hayden thirsts
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warnings: gender neutral!reader, armpit kink, scent kink, teasing, playful bullying, fwb, mentions of sex, dont like dont read, 18+ minors dni
masterlist
you and anakin have been friends for almost half your life, ever since he came to the temple to begin his jedi training. you’ve grown up together, and while your friendship was innocent and nothing more as children, as you got older, your eyes started to wander.
being as close as you two are, it was only natural that your sexual experimentation was done together. you swear you and anakin have tried everything, and you feel there isn’t much left to experience.
now in your early twenties with the innocence of childhood long gone, you would describe your relationship with anakin as friends with benefits. you love him, of course, but the idea of dating him makes you want to gag. you’re best friends who just so happen to fuck, because they just so happen to know everything the other likes in bed.
seeing as you’re just friends, anakin has no qualms about bullying you. he’ll play pranks on you, flip you on your back during sparring, use the force to hide objects and move chairs out from under you. you try to give as good as you get, but with his size and strength, he does have an advantage over you.
you’re pretty open with anakin, he is your best friend after all. you don’t have many secrets, and he knows you very intimately. what he doesn’t know, however, is how much you like it when he stinks. every time you train with him, or even stand next to him, you try to get a whiff. he smells so masculine and strong and it makes your knees weak.
you know it’s gross and embarrassing and abnormal.you know you could never tell him because he’ll never let you live it down. he’d constantly be riling you up just to leave you hanging, aching. that’s why you’ve kept it a secret… up until now.
you were in the training room practicing your hand to hand, nothing out of the ordinary. you almost had the upper hand until anakin wrapped his arm around your neck. the crook of his elbow cradled your head and he pulled you in, effectively preventing you from going anywhere.
the issue was, your nose was pressed right into his armpit. his musk was strong, having accumulated after hours of fighting. the shirt he wore was wet with sweat and the scent filled your nose. it smelled good; anakin always smelled so good. it smelled like sex, like pleasure, and you wanted all of it. combined with him physically restraining you, using all those muscles against you, your head started to spin.
“are you sniffin’ my pits?” he asked after he heard you take a deep inhale.
immediately you began to stammer, trying to come up with an explanation.
“no, i just-” you started, voice muffled by his arm.
“nah, you are. how’s that smell, huh? you like that?” he said, voice teasing.
mercifully, he gave you some slack to pull your head back and look up at him. your eyes were glassy and lust blown, even after something as simple as that.
“what’s that look for?” he asked
“nothin’”
“nothing? then why do you look like you’re about to cum in your pants just from smelling me?”
you couldn’t meet his eyes. “smells good.”
he let out a chuckle. “don’t get shy on me. i know you have a thing for it.” you looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. “you’re so fuckin’ obvious. i haven’t worn deodorant in months just so your slutty ass could get off on it.”
“h-how did you find out?”
you want to evaporate, melt right through the floor to escape this humiliating conversation.
“i know my workout clothes don’t magically disappear from my room and end up in yours,” he rolls his eyes. “and you always stand right next to me, especially when it’s hot out, and… you’re always more desperate for me when i’m sweaty.”
“anakin i’m-”
“shut up.”
“what?”
“shut up. i don’t care what you’re into. honestly i think it’s hot that you want me so bad you’d sniff my dirty clothes just to get off.”
anakin let you go and stepped away from you so he had enough room to take off his shirt. he tossed it to the floor and let you admire him in all of his tanned, muscular glory. he raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his neck, putting both of his hairy armpits on display.
he smirks at you, “go ahead, it’s all yours.”
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ethical-cain-vinnel · 7 months
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hear me out, you and anakin have been enemies for years like just constant head butting and competition, and one day y’all both are training and your both trying to show off competitively, and afterwards, just to piss him if you say your master is kind of attractive or something and what happens next happens 🤭 sorry i’m famished for enemies to lovers anakin stuff
RAHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA THIS HAS ME LEGIT FOAMING AT THE MOUTH THANK YOU GIRLBOSS
SPOILED BITCH
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader
Teaser Trailer: Your Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi usually has you and Anakin separated when training. He’s worried that the animosity between you two could eventually lead to one of you getting hurt because you two don’t know when to stop. But today, on the rest day for training, he’s woken you two up and has decided that you two would hash out your differences and train together for the first (and probably last) time.
Tags/Warnings: Bickering, porn with plot, very little use of Y/N, no gendered terms (girl, she/her, etc) but AFAB anatomy (im sorry idk how to write AMAB anatomy), hatefucking, lowkey dubcon at the start but quickly turns consensual, mentions of Padme (they’re broken up in this), bath sex, rough sex, little to no prep (make sure to prep irl or that shit HURTS, coming from your local whore), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap ya willy), choking, fluff at the end
Notes: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I LOWKEY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO START IT LMFAO but im really glad you sent this in cause I had a lot of fun writing this!! I did change it a little bit but it still has that enemies to lovers plot that you said you were jonesing for so I hope you like it! Also im so sorry if anakin is ooc i really tried to make him true to his character.
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In the heart of the Jedi Temple, a place of serenity and wisdom, were two dickheads who couldn’t stop bickering and driving their master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, absolutely insane. Every word moved him more and more to the dark side (kidding, not kidding). “You’ll never be a true Jedi, Skywalker,” You taunted, your eyes flashing with defiance. “You let your emotions control you too easily.” “And you’re too focused on rules and regulations,” he shot back, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Jedi Code has made you blind to the real world.” You were about to respond when your master spoke. “Enough. Both of you.” He turns around and gives you both a sharp glare. This shuts you both right up. “Sorry, Master,” You both mumble like scolded children. Obi-Wan sighs and continues taking you to the training ground.
When you arrive at the grounds, you and Anakin shoot each other confused looks before Obi-Wan begins to speak. “In the past, I have not let you two train together. This is because I am afraid one, if not both of you, will have bad physical injuries by the end. But,” Flashes of annoyance and exhaustion from months of your constant bickering show in his eyes. “You two have officially worn me down. Today, you will train together. I will not be supervising because I feel you two should work this out by any means necessary. As long as you both come out of the training alive, I don’t care what happens here.” You begin to feel a bit guilty. You and Anakin have indeed pushed your master to his limits. But that’s quickly replaced by excitement and needing to beat Anakin.
Obi-Wan laid out the rules of the training before quickly leaving the grounds. With Obi-Wan's departure, you and Anakin found yourselves standing on the training ground, lightsabers in hand, the tension thick enough to slice through. Anakin couldn't resist taking the first jab, both verbally and physically. "Well, Y/N, let's see if you can back up all that talk." You smirked, your eyes glinting with determination. "Oh, Anakin, I've been waiting for this moment. Let's see if you can finally prove that you're not all bark and no bite." The clash of lightsabers rang out as the duel commenced, the blades creating sparks of energy that mirrored the sparks flying between you. "You're still too aggressive, Anakin," you taunted, sidestepping his lunge. "The Force doesn't respond well to blind rage, you know," Anakin grunted, his frustration evident. "And you're too busy following the rule book to see the big picture. Sometimes, you have to do what's necessary." Your retort came swiftly, "Sometimes, what's necessary isn't letting your emotions run rampant. That's how we fall to the dark side." The battle raged, each strike and parry accompanied by another biting remark. It was as if the Force itself reveled in your ongoing rivalry, fueling the intensity of the duel.
"You know, Anakin, maybe if you focused on your training more than your obsession with winning, you'd improve," you quipped, dodging a particularly aggressive swipe from his lightsaber. Anakin's eyes blazed with anger, and he pushed harder, but you deftly countered his every move. "And maybe if you let loose a bit, you'd discover there's more to the Force than ancient texts and lectures." Your movements became fluid, almost graceful, as you expertly parried Anakin's attacks. "I'll take wisdom over recklessness any day, Anakin." As the duel continued, your words stung as much as your strikes, and it was clear that Anakin was growing frustrated, his resolve wavering. He overextended himself in a moment of vulnerability, leaving an opening you quickly seized. With a swift maneuver, you disarmed him, sending his lightsaber flying out of his grasp. You held your lightsaber at his throat, a triumphant smile on your lips. "Checkmate," you declared, breathing heavily but victorious.
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Later that night, you were getting ready for bed. The training with Anakin was rewarding but so fucking tiring. You had bruises and small cuts all over your body that stung as you entered the hot bath, the salts meant for relaxation causing your muscles to tense up and a small, involuntary whimper to leave your mouth. As you sunk deeper into the water, you relaxed more. Your cuts still stung, but it was all worth it to wipe that stupid smile off of your rival’s face. God, his stupid face. You had no idea what Padme sees in him. His stupid brooding blue eyes, his full lips that always turn into a scowl when he sees you. Fuck. Even you, his number one rival, can’t deny that he’s really hot. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear someone enter the bathroom. You immediately make sure your entire body is below the water, the bubbles covering you. You look to see who it is and it’s Anakin. “Anakin, what the FUCK?? GET OUT!” you begin to scream when he covers your mouth, glaring down at you as he leans over the tub. Your voice got caught in your throat as his glare sent shivers down your spine and warmth down to your pussy. When he can tell you’ve officially shut up, he slowly takes his hand off of your mouth and for a moment, you two just stare at each other, a mix of hatred and lust. “You're a real spoiled bitch, you know that?” he seethes and you scoff. “Oh, I’m spoiled cause I was able to put you in your place?” His hand shoots to grab your neck, choking you slightly and you let out a small whimper, not expecting it. He smirks and pulls you into a rough kiss, your mind going a million miles an hour. You pull away and he lets you, not wanting to force you into anything you don’t want to do. “What is wrong with you??” You say, obviously bothered. “You’re dating Padme and you’re trying to kiss me and fuck me?? What is wrong with you??” You fume. He smirks a bit, thinking your reaction is a bit funny. “Padme and I broke up a month ago.” Those words make your jaw drop and your eyes practically bug out of your skull.
But he knows that all of your inhibitions were limited only to him not being single, as you immediately pull him into another heated kiss, tongue and teeth clashing as you help him hastily strip off his robes and you pull him into the tub with you. You lay back against the porcelain and he gets on top of you, his hand coming up to choke you slightly again. He begins to kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, his free hand coming to pinch your soapy tits and you whine. Your hand found his cock in the water and lined him up with your entrance. He quickly pushed in and gave you no time to adjust to his (massive) size as he began pounding you roughly. “Stupid spoiled bitch. Always a pain in my ass yet I’m dicking you down.” He mumbles breathily as his cock hits your g spot over and over again, leaving you breathless. “Say thank you.” He demands but you’re already too fucked out to hear. It isn’t until he slaps you across the face that you can listen. “I fucking said thank me. Do it and maybe I’ll let you cum tonight” “Thank you!! Thank you Anakin!!” You moan loudly and his hand comes back to your throat, a smirk on his face “Yea thats what I fuckin’ thought. Good fuckin slut f’me. So fuckin good” He pants as he fucks your pussy with reckless abandon. He can feel your cunt clenching on him, signaling that you’re close to cumming and if he wasn’t also on the brink, he woulda stopped right then and there and ruined your orgasm. “Cum f’me. Cum f’me, baby” He moans and the chord in your belly snaps, covering his cock with your juices as you moan his name. He whimpers softly and you feel as he fills you up with his cum. You’re both left panting and after a few moments you two start to laugh softly, looking at the mess you made. Water and bubbles all over the floor, the water in the tub left white and milky and your bodies sweaty and bruised. He looks at you in a way he never has before and he leans down to kiss you sweetly. “C’mon. Stand up and I’ll help you shower” He says with a sweet smile. You have a feeling things are going to be different from now on between you.
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awkward-tension-art · 18 days
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Darkness on Umbara Chp.1 (Rex x Reader)
Hey everyone! guess whose in too deep!? me! I've clung to these fictional copy-paste men so much, you can call me a fucking LEECH!
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Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.
Landing on Umbara
cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK
This is very briefly proofread so I die like a man
Minors DNI, even if theres no smut
Umbara was dark. From what you gathered, it was extremely fucking dark. 
You prepared your supplies with Kix. As medics, you both needed to double and triple check every pack, case and box. 
Kix would be on the front. His expertise was more front line first-aid rather than your position behind the forces. He would keep the men alive long enough to get to your hands where you’d focus on the more intense medical care. While you would be armed to defend yourself, it was better if you stayed out of the line of direct fire.
Your safety and position were tied to the status you were given. As a natural born human in the GAR, your life was inherently seen as more important than the clones. This thought process was something you were vehemently against. You and your fellow soldiers were on equal ground. You’ve always tried to treat them with respect, kindness and patience.
On several occasions nat-borns would disrespect or belittle clones in your presence, which usually resulted in a verbal lashing from you. Much to the joy of your General Anakin and his padawan Ahsoka. 
And the affection of a certain Captain Rex.
You peered up from looking over the medical supplies you were supposed to carry. Currently your secret lover was across the hangar meeting with the Jedi generals, ARC troopers and commander of the 212th. 
Despite being in his helmet, you knew you caught his eye. Rex didn’t give anything away except a small movement of his hand. Something Fives didn’t miss, who gave you a small wave.
He knew of your relationship with Rex. So did Anakin. But other than those two, it was secret. All for his protection, as clones were forbidden from romantic partners.
There was a surge of energy in the hangar and you looked around. Your eyes met Kix’s before you nodded to him, “Showtime.” The first wave was loading up ready to get to Umbara’s surface. 
“I’ll keep Rex safe until you touch down.” Your medic friend winked at you before he stood, got his helmet on and got to his transport. 
Scratch that, Kix knew about you and the captain too. 
Several of the gunships lifted, flying from the hangar down to the planet below. The first wave of troops, including ARF troopers, were being sent down to clear the field. From there, a second wave of back-up, your wave, would join them. Your command was temporary. All you had to do was get them to the ground before they took orders from Rex and Anakin.
You adjusted your gauntlet with the communicator on it. T-minus 5 minutes. Your fingers danced over your supplies, double-checking everything you had. 
Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits…
“Ready, doc?” A trooper, Ringo, took you out of your thoughts.
With a nod, you lifted your pack and stepped up onto the gunship, “Ready. Let’s load up.”
Others followed your orders and soon, you were in the sky above Umbara. 
Despite the first wave’s efforts, chaos still reigned. Almost immediately your gunship was assaulted by artillery fire. A shot exploded next to you, shaking the entire air vehicle. A ship to the west of yours burst into an explosion of flames.
In response, your second hand shot up for stability. A trooper had their hand on your shoulder to help keep you steady. After a moment, the transport stabilized and you let go, stepping to the back where a crate of supplies waited.
“Dare, how close are we?” You chimed on your communicator. Hopefully you didn’t startle the pilot.
“Landing in 30, I can’t get to the landing site, so you’ll have to walk some to the staging area,” he responded.
“Play it safe,” You commanded, “Land where you can. And try not to crash, I like living and I'm sure the other men do too.” A couple of clones snickers in their helmets. Your little quip helped ease the atmosphere it seemed.
You prepared a speeder. The small vehicle had been modified to carry a patient and allow you to transport extra medical supplies. It was outfitted with some extra armor and protection as well, so in an emergency you could activate a rayshield at the cost of the vehicle's speed.
“Doc, landing in 10.”
“Good job.” You spoke into your communicator before getting on the speeder. You counted down in your head, and just as you got to 1, the doors opened. 
The troopers unloaded, guns ready. Shots were fired, though it didn’t seem as concentrated. Explosions were going off, but at a relatively safe distance. Seemed the first wave did a better job than you originally thought. Your speeder got to the ground, and you made your way to the staging area with the rest of the men.
The battalion had established some trenches, allowing a brief moment of rest and preparation for everyone. You stopped right at the small medical area Kix had skillfully established. Already there were injured in the double digits. Without pause, you got to work.
“You nearly missed the party,” Kix snarked, handling a blaster burn on the thigh of a shiny.
“I’d call this fashionably late,” you quipped back, getting your hands on a different soldier. Blood was seeping from the bottom of his damaged helmet, staining his blue and white chestplate in red. Your mind kicked into training, “What's your name?” You asked, voicing a kinder tone. 
The poor clone was clearly in agony, responding with a tremor to his words, “S-Stag.” He swallowed, trying to control his mental state.
These damn soldiers liked to pretend everything was fine. 
“Alright Stag, I’m gonna remove your helmet.” 
He didn’t argue when you pulled it off revealing the extent of the damage. 
Severe blaster burn. Missing eye. Jaw visible. Shrapnel from the helmet had pierced his cheek and temple. Concussion possibly. 
His remaining brown eye looked wildly at you. You recognized fear. terror.
So, you gave him a reassuring soft smile, “Not too bad, I’ve dealt with worse.” Your fingers quickly wrapped around an injector filled with painkillers, “Here, I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain.” Your words seemed to have a positive effect because he nodded and let you treat him.
You worked quickly and efficiently, stemming the bleeding and getting him stabilized. When you were finished, he had calmed down considerably. Once Stag was stable, you moved on to the next trooper. 
By the fifth, you realized one of them couldn’t be saved.
He was a shiny. Barely off Kamino you guessed. The plastoid of his chest piece looked to be shattered and singed from a bolt to the chest. His breathing was shaky as he leaned against the dark trunk of a glowing tree. 
“I need a trooper.” you called taking the soldier’s hand in your own. You learned quickly into the war that the clones always wanted to die with a brother near them. A reminder that they weren’t alone.
“I hope I’m good enough.” 
That voice. 
“Rex,” Your head turned, looking up at him. You wished you could smile, but you had to keep your excitement under a mask. Plus, the situation didn’t call for it.
His warm eyes were on yours as he pulled off his helmet and knelt. There was clear sadness, knowing that this was the end for one of his men. So the only thing he could do was offer comfort.
“Fyre.” The captain spoke softly, “You did well.” He put one armored hand on the dying man's shoulder. 
Wordlessly, you gave Fyre a shot for the pain and held his hand, “Everything is alright now.” you whispered to him. This wasn’t uncommon, when you or Kix were too late to save someone. 
At the beginning you would burn through supplies trying to save everyone, only to fail and lose them anyway. Over the course of the war, you knew to recognize when all you could do was ease their pain and let them slip away. 
It was the grim reality of the war. You couldn’t save them all. 
Fyre coughed and squeezed your hand. His eyes closed and the clone took his last breath. 
“Damnit.” you swore, checking his pulse. You only felt stillness. He was gone.
Rex sighed, “You tried. So, thank you,” He stood and helped you stand. He couldn’t let his grief from the loss overwhelm him, “I wish you stayed on the ship.” The clone captain admitted, “I get the feeling Umbara is going to be brutal. More so than previous battles.”
“You can’t get rid of me so easily,” Your eyes quickly scanned around. No one seemed to be close enough or paying attention to the two of you, “My darling.” you added, interlocking your fingers.
Your lover looked around quickly before he responded quietly, “Mesh’la, be careful what you say.” Despite his warning, he made no move to pull away. In fact, he stepped closer, “For now, at least.”
Of course, you knew the two of you had to reign in your love and affection in front of others. On the battlefield he was the captain and you the field doctor. Trying to push those boundaries would stress him out. Afterall, if his romance with you got to Kamino, they’d call for a decommission. Something Anakin would never go for, but better safe than sorry.
However, he warmed to small touches and brief moments whenever the situation allowed. 
Your lips had a small smile, “I’m glad you're not hurt.” you raised one palm to stroke the side of his helmet. The battle wasn’t even an hour in and already his armor was dirty.
“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Rex murmured, keeping his voice down, “Please, ner kar’ta.” He was being protective again. Normally the captain was better at prioritizing. He was the leader of the battalion first and your lover second. But right now he seemed…spooked. Were things getting bad already? 
Umbara must be getting to him. After all this assault was much different than other battles.
“I’ll promise if you promise,” Your lips quickly pecked his visor. It was chaste and fast, so no one could see. Just a sweet kiss between the two of you.
He was about to respond when his communicator went off. 
“General Skywalker,” Your lover pulled back and raised his wrist up. 
“Come find me, I need the status of our men.” Anakin’s voice sounded on the other end, “and tell our good doctor I said hello.” 
You snorted.
“Right away, General.” the clone captain said, returning to his professionalism. He looked at you one more time before stepping away to find the jedi.
You sighed, “Back to work.” Without waiting a second, you found another injured soldier and began to treat him.
Your eyes glanced at the shadowy sky for a moment, unable to shake the pit in your stomach. It felt like something was deeply wrong.
The darkness on Umbara must already be getting to you too.
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anthurak · 2 months
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One thing that always feels so funny for me when it comes to the Rosebird Parents Theory isn’t when people simply disagree with the theory, but rather people apparently seeing the prospect of a ‘Raven is Ruby’s real father’ reveal to be this totally unthinkable thing and how could anyone ever think this could happen?!
Because once you get past the whole ‘two ladies making a baby’ hurtle, Raven being Ruby’s dad really fits into so many well-known fantasy/sci-fi tropes. Many of which RWBY notably has not done yet, or have already been tied to Raven herself.
I mean, the mysterious villainous and/or anti-heroic loner with ties to the family pulling an ‘I am your Father’ reveal on the protagonist? That’s a fucking CLASSIC. Hell, let’s consider a few things about Raven:
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Big, intimidating helmet.
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Clear Samurai inspiration.
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Wields a katana-like sword that technically has an energy blade (dust=energy) which is generally RED-colored.
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Possesses mysterious and terrible over-worldly powers.
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Has a mysterious past tied to our protagonist’(s) family.
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Was probably in love with our protagonist’s (apparently) dead mother.
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Yeah I’d say Raven makes for a pretty good Darth Vader-expy.*
Beyond that specific case, we’ve already seen the story connect Raven to a BUNCH of ‘mysterious and angsty deadbeat dad who left their kid for unclear reasons’ tropes when it comes to Yang. Why not have those apply to Ruby as well? People have been clamoring for years about wanting to see Summer’s narrative dynamic with Yang explored as much as the one she has with Ruby, so why not have the reverse be true with Raven and Ruby as well?
After all, it seems that the story has now given Ruby a reason to seek Raven for answers just as Yang once did.
And as I’ve noted in previous Rosebird Parents posts, No I don’t believe Raven also being Ruby’s deadbeat dad would be somehow ‘redundant’. Particularly because the context is completely different: Yang has known that Raven is her birth-mother for most of her life, whereas Ruby would only just now be finding out that Raven is her birth-father. Far from being redundant, this would allow the story to explore two very different responses of kids to an absent parent: One who has had to live with the knowledge of that absent parent for years, and one who hasn’t and has to deal with this NEW information suddenly getting dropped on her.
Plus, as I alluded to earlier, it’s rather notable that RWBY hasn’t done some big ‘dramatic parent reveal’, given how much of a staple it is to the genre. And given how reimagining, twisting and flipping classic and well-worn fairytale/folklore/fantasy tropes (often via playing with gender-roles) is basically RWBY’s bread and butter at this point, I’d say giving the series heroine an ‘I am your father’ reveal from a woman would fit PERFECTLY in this series.
And if you’re going to ask ‘but how do two ladies make baby?!?’,
Raven can be intersex. Boom. Done.
Alternatively, magic.
As an aside, yes Summer being trans is a perfectly viable alternative. I just think logistically speaking, Raven being intersex and being Ruby’s ‘father’ makes a dramatic reveal a bit more streamlined. Also, the idea of Raven managing to be BOTH a deadbeat mom AND a deadbeat dad is just too funny XD
*Of course, this comparison gets even more fun when we consider Summer having her own Vader-parallels, ie; Summer almost certainly being taken by Salem and given what we can probably assume to be a Vader-esque makeover via grimm-hybridization in setup for a big reveal. So when we combine this with Raven, I think we can view what happened on their last mission as ‘What if Padme/Obi-wan got turned into Vader INSTEAD of Anakin?’ Like Raven in the present is basically Anakin doing Obi-wan’s traumatized hermit shtick, except all angry and edgy because it’s still Anakin.
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wifeofasith · 6 months
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Warnings — Dead dove - do not eat, psychologist!Anakin x reader, manipulation, coercion, captivity, blindfolding, tying up, drugging, loss of consciousness, both Anakin and reader are mentally ill, scissor play, undressing, dub-con, implied murder, hinted homicide, hinted torture, stalker behavior, implied APD, implied suicide, Stockholm syndrome? Generally a messed-up piece of work.
Word count — 3k
Notes — A small project for my friend. Not something I'd normally write, but I took it as a challenge. Not exactly smut, but it's hinted & characters make out. Make sure to read the warning list and be mindful. Wrote it in a different point of view to make it as gender neutral as possible. NOT PROOFREAD.
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After seven visits and a night of consideration, I've come to the conclusion that Doctor Skywalker wasn't the correct mental health specialist for me. And it wasn't because he was bad at his job, no, quite the opposite. Anakin Skywalker was an attractive male in his forties. He never shared details about his personal life, and despite that, he managed to create an impression of a person I've known for months, if not years, of my life.
Anakin scared me. Not intentionally, of course. It was what he's supposed to do — pick up the details of me, the patterns of my brain, my movements, and my involuntary fidgeting. He was a modern mind reader, and I couldn't help but wonder if he's aware of every thought I've had when he sat in front of me, with his legs crossed, glasses hanging on the very tip of his nose, a linen button-up with the last button left free. Could he hear what my inner voice was saying during those stolen stares? The gentle tapping of a fountain pen on his notebook told me he could.
He wasn't the only one digging for specifics, though. His purposeful, secretive behavior made me want to figure him out. As if he were my medical project and not the other way around. I knew that it wasn’t ethical; part of his job was to keep the outside world, including his own, off his patients' brains to avoid influencing them. But I needed to know more. Anakin Skywalker was my psychologist, and I was utterly and entirely obsessed with him. Maybe that's exactly why I should stay in therapy. For one reason or another.
It was Tuesday morning, and I woke up especially early for my supposedly last appointment. I wanted to take a longer way to his office and connect all the pieces of private information my ill brain gathered and processed about Anakin. There were plenty of assumptions, facts I couldn’t know for sure, and guesses about his life that were possibly altered by whatever’s been lurking in my brain. However, I loved the image. In my head, Anakin was divorced. The absence of an expensive stone on his ring finger forced me to come to that conclusion. A glimpse of his phone wallpaper portraying two toddlers told me he was a father of two — a boy and a girl with the same gentle but intense stare he wore. The bundle of keys on his office desk told me the kind of car he drove, how many locks his house had, a keychain of his assumed favorite hockey team hinted at what he enjoys doing in his free time. Oh, and he was a smoker, that’s for sure. You could never miss the smell. No matter how many mints he swallowed before my visits or the scent of soap he used to wash his smoke-stained fingers, the cigarette trace was always obvious. But I didn’t mind it, not one bit. His natural smell mixing with the dirt of an addiction on someone who’s supposed to be an example of a perfect intellectual man was like knowing his dirty secret — it was arousing.
I came fifteen minutes early. My doctor worked on the third floor of a five-story commercial building; it was an environment I deemed to be perfectly suitable for a man such as Anakin. Modern architecture surrounded by enough green to not appear like a dystopian haven. And it was an excellent choice for a psychologist office, initially. Personally, however, I thought it was too perfect. Everything surrounding Anakin was a bit too perfect, from the way he carried himself to the choice of his work spot — it always rubbed it in for me that there are people doing okay, people who aren’t chained with the issues of their own heads, uncaged, people who can enjoy that perfect organic modernist dream.
I was going to spend the punctual sixteen minutes outside on a bench before stepping inside and greeting the doctor with a new wave of depression to discolor some of his lively world; after all, that’s what he’s signed up for. I sat down comfortably, not too far from the main entrance, admiring the surrounding park while judging parents chattering around while their strollers were left unattended near the children’s playground. It was enjoyable to see and possibly figure out the mindset of all the strangers and passersby. I felt like my own kind of psychologist, but I never had any intentions to help the people I marked as dysfunctional in one way or another. I lacked some empathy, yes, but that only made my life easier; I wasn’t as attached to problems that weren’t my own, and I could analyze people without their lives influencing mine. My doctor’s fairytale was unfortunately disturbed by the raspy voice greeting me.
“Good morning. You’re early.” Anakin greeted me with a welcoming yet slightly surprised tone. “I’m glad.” 
The coffee in his hand told me otherwise; I could only assume though, but he probably expected to spend a good ten minutes alone in his office, enjoying the morning with a hot latte and with no bothering from his patients before his workday even started.
“Good morning.” I nod too nonchalantly for my own liking. It was obvious I was forcing the tone, and if someone is to pick on such a small detail — it’s him.
“Let’s go; I don’t mind starting early.” He smiles, and I can once again can tell what a liar he is.
I follow him inside a white-lit lobby area, where he’s greeted by a few people he’s familiar with. He walks with masculine confidence, and I find myself feeling so disgustingly small beside him, small and insignificant. I wonder if he’s ever aware of the effect his demeanor has on people. It pisses me off and excites me further. It’s a case of mental masochism, and I’m a pathetic victim.
After a few second elevator ride, spiced with his initiated small talk, we enter the office. He offers to make me a cup of tea, giving me a choice of peppermint and lavender. I was about to decline when I reminded myself that it was my last time here and that I had never drunk lavender tea before. So I agree, encouraging him to be generous with sugar.
“Can I assume you being oddly early to come means an improvement in your mood?” He asks as he brews my beverage. It’s almost as if he’s not even working yet, not taking notes and analyzing me, but I know it’s just a facade to make me feel more comfortable.
“Perhaps. More so that I don’t think I’ll be visiting anymore.” I confess and go along with his play.
“Can I ask why?” His broad back turns from me, and I’m greeted with his handsome face. There was no hint of confusion or surprise; you would think he'd expected me to say that.
I shrug my shoulders, following his hands as he stirs my tea and pushes a delicate porcelain cup forward. His voice is nice, but I would much rather stare at him than watch his miserable attempts to help me.
“I don’t think therapy is necessary. Not anymore, at least.” I take a sip of a hot lavender drink, my hands taking the cup involuntary to avoid speaking further. The brim touches my lips, and I hiss in pain from the burning liquid. I swear he chuckles at me.
“I would like to continue seeing you.” He crosses his legs and leans back in his chair. The gaze he’s fixed on me, mixed with the weird silence after he stops asking questions, is making my insides squirm with anxiety. It’s never like that around him.
“You see, y/n, you are an interesting case…” Anakin pushes his glasses up with his index finger, rocking his chair slightly. “You’re an obsessive stalker.” He blurts out as a wide grin spreads across his face. “And I dislike misbehaving patients.” His face is becoming more blurry as we speak, and I feel myself sinking into the velvet cushion of an armchair.
Fucking lavender tea...
I couldn’t tell if I was out for days or mere minutes, but I’m pretty sure if the familiar smell of cigarettes hadn't reached my nostrils, I’d still be asleep. I opened my eyes only to be met with a dark cloth concealing my sight. I know I’m still in Anakin’s office because the sensation under my restrained wrists is of the same velvet chair. I remained still, in hopes of figuring out what’s going on. Only one thing was clear: I shouldn’t have came today yet alone drank tea. That's a gut feeling for you. The blindfold is weak around my eyes, and I guess it’s less for hiding the view and more for intimidating me. Good job, doctor.
“Oh?” Anakin gasps mockingly. “You’re up early, little bird.” He’s standing behind me; one of his hands snakes up my neck, fingers twisting into my hair. “Good.” He tightens the cloth around my eyes.
“There’s something about you. You’re as annoying as you’re pretty, and I can’t decide if I want to keep you as my little pet or get rid of you and mask it as the tragedy of a weak-minded person.”
I can sense him walk away and then make his way back into his chair in front of me. I sat up straight, settling my head towards him to show how little his words were frightening me. My mind’s been playing games on me since I can remember myself, and a mere human couldn’t scare me with ropes and threats when my own head was a prison of torture most of my life.
“I urge you to make that decision now before your next patient finds us in this roleplay of yours.” I tug the restraints on my hands.
Anakin laughs; I can hear him light a cigarette.
“Yeah?” He pauses, probably taking a puff. “You’re stupid. You don’t think you should be scared?”
I know I should be; in fact, I am not mentally ill enough to be oblivious to how messed up my situation actually is. But I’m not scared, and that scares me way more than being held hostage by my own psychologist.
“So what then, doc? Don’t keep me waiting.”
I can feel Anakin rise from his seat and slowly make his way to stand in front of me. I can’t see him, but as he towers over me, I lift my head up. There is that sense of feeling small again. Maybe it’s less about his confidence and more about how twisted his mind is to lure in people like that.
“Do you think I haven’t noticed? You… Digging through me, trying to figure me out... Watching me. You’re sick.” He grabs my chin. ”You’re sick, and it pisses me off.”
“So you decided to tie me up?”
He sighs, and I’m pretty sure he’s fed up with my poor sense of judgment.
“No, I decided to tear up your dignity piece by piece to show you who’s the real maniac between the two of us.” He yanks the blindfold off my face, and I can’t help but wonder if the initial purpose of it was to do just that. It's as if he’s planned every single second of our sick encounter.
His piercing deep blue eyes star into mine intensely, filled with overwhelming emotions of visible hatred and lust, and I am no longer sure if I want to scream into his face or bite his lips off in an intense session of kissing. I want to make him bleed through both pain and pleasure. Can he tell what I think this time too, or is he sane enough to be unaware of the disturbing thoughts spiraling in my scrambled brain?
“Don’t look at me like that.” He says it with a disgusted tone.
“Do you not enjoy my stare, doctor?"
I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why my tongue moved in such a seductive manner when I spoke to him. Maybe it was the fruit of his manipulation, making me feel safe, making me trust him, and then turning me into a mindless vessel that craves his approval. Or maybe my problems dive deeper into my body, and it’s just who I am. Maybe sickness excites me.
Whatever the reasoning, it seemed to amuse him. Though I still couldn’t read if his amusement was based on hatred for that twisted attraction he obviously felt towards me, part of me wished it was later.
“You’re a masochist.”
“And you’re a sadist.”
Anakin raises his eyebrow. “So you agree?”
We were both right, but I wasn’t just going to sign up for him hurting me. Or at least not this easily. As I wonder how this is going to go, he leaves the room.
I like to think he’s keeping me because he finds me desirable. It doesn’t exactly make the whole captive situation better, but hell, it’s satisfying when you’re entertaining enough for a man such as Anakin to consider not murdering you instantly. For other eyes, it would make his image less perfect, but to me, he’s becoming better by a second.
Anakin comes back with a pair of metal scissors in his hand. He towers over me again, this time raising my chin with a cold blade.
“You’re not letting go of that stare, are you, darlin’?” He bites his lip, looking down at me.
The stinging blade traces down my neck, sliding over my right collarbone. The thicker skin he reaches, the more pressure he’s applying, yet he's not breaking the flesh, only leaving a red, tingling line. It drags over my clothed shoulder and down the sleeve of my shirt. He does it slowly, not breaking eye contact, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. I question if I am as special as I thought I was.
“You have no idea what I am going to do to you.” He leans down to whisper as he hooks the cutting edge under the cuff and cuts into it.
A cold sensation sends shivers up my arm when he lets the two blades rip through the material all the way up to the neckline, leaving my left limb completely free of clothing. The dust particles tickle my nose, causing a sharp inhale, which he mistakes for fear.
“Scared?”
Not a chance. It’s better than just undressing me; it gives a sense of foreplay, whether before sex or murder. He repeats the same process on my other sleeve.
“You like playing with your food?”
Anakin grins widely. I think he’s liking me more and more. "Oh, how I’ll enjoy devouring you, my sweet dessert."
He drops down to his knees, placing his hands on my thighs to keep them apart and give him more access to be closer to me. He cuts into the hemline of my shirt and rips it across the middle, parting it and exposing even more of me for his eyes to eat. He doesn’t stop there and digs the point of the scissors into my chin, causing a painful sting. I look into his eyes, clouded with darkness, biting my teeth together to avoid hissing from the ache.
“Mouth.” He says that, and my lips part involuntary, as if he had control of my own body.
He slides the scissors fully into me, leaving only the rings hanging out.
“Bite.”
I clench my teeth against the metal to prevent myself from choking. Anakin looks at me proudly, as if saying how good I am for listening to his orders. He grabs the waistband of my pants and commands again.
“Hips.”
I lift myself up, and before I know it, I’m almost entirely naked, tied to a chair, with scissors digging into the back of my throat. And I don’t think ever in my life I’ve been this turned on by a mere thought of being hurt.
He stands up, grabbing the tool out of my mouth and yanking it out without any consideration. With trembling hands, he starts cutting the ropes off my wrists.
“I’m about to die from the feelings you make me feel.” He groans.
Once my hands are free, I clash into him like an animal freed from a cage who’s been deprived of meat. His lips lash onto mine, and his arms grab my thighs and lift me up against him. He’s kissing me, and my body’s burning with sickness and desire. Anakin carries me to his desk, sweeping all the papers and stationary on the ground with a loud, crashing sound, breaking whatever’s fragile and unlucky enough to interfere with our twisted fantasy.
Anakin’s teeth graze the skin on my neck as he throws me to lay on the wooden tabletop. He digs his teeth into my flesh, making me gasp. He’s marking my body with deep red bruises, and I wonder if it’s to hurt me, taste me, or make me see the sars. I’m pretty sure all three things are happening at the same time, though.
He pulls away for a second just to force his tongue into my mouth. And I kiss him. I crave him. I want to make him feel weak for not killing me; I want to make him feel vulnerable for giving into his desires, but the only one who’s feeling small is me. Just like every other time. I keep kissing him, tasting his spit in my mouth as it smears over my chin from how hungrily he’s working. And he keeps devouring me. He keeps devouring me, and I can’t force myself to stop him.
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