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frost-queen · 1 year

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I’m coming after you (Fem!Reader x Trilla Suduri)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07

Summary: Reader & Trilla knew each other from the Jedi academy where feelings were left unspoken before the event of order 66. On Brakka Reader is in search of Cal Kestis to alert him from the dangers. Instead of Cal she stumbled upon the second sister who is quite shocked to see Reader. Trilla starts chasing you down with flirty and intimidating comments till she corners you. Her cold demeanor faltering with tears leading to an adorable kiss.

Taking a deep breath, your shoulders moved up and down. Looking wonderingly around. A massive shipwrecking yard in front of you. Standing a top a platform, the wind ruffled through your hair and clothing. Sweeping a faint cold against your skin as it caught underneath your clothing. Gripping tight onto the railing, you peered out in the open. – “Where are you?” – you asked yourself. – “Where are you Cal Kestis.” – sighing deep, your shoulders slouched.

Up till now it was hopeless of finding him. A hidden Jedi such as yourself. A survivor from Order 66 so many years ago. With the up mars from the inquisitors there was no denying the Jedi’s in hiding were in danger once more. Your numbers were already slim, so they needn’t be slimmer. This was the reason you found yourself on Brakka.

Searching for a fellow jedi survivor to warn him from the uprising Turning around you went down to find a way across the shipwrecking yard. Massive ships stripped and cut for parts. The lower you got, the larger the wrecked ships seemed. How tiny a person could be in similarity with the fallen craft ships that carried them.

Sliding down a panel you came on another level. One of the locals burning parts apart with massive protection goggles. You decided to approach him since your search for Cal was leading nowhere. You came closer when he stopped burning, tapping him on the shoulder. – “What?” – he grunted out, moving his goggles upwards to get a look of you. – “Kestis do you know where he is?” – you asked.

“Don’t know who that is.” – he answered rudely, moving his goggles back down. – “Are… are you sure?” – you said as he gave you the cold shoulder. Deafening your voice out with the noise of him burning parts. Melting the material into smaller bits. Looking briefly up, you exhaled annoyed. If this was how it was going to be, you’d sure as hell never find him in time. You decided to go upwards to an open back part of a ship that had usage as passage now.

You climbed, careful of the wind that picked up. Inside the open ship part there were some people passing through. – “Kestis?” – you asked them. – “Know where he is?” – One of them shook his head. Another one told you roughly ‘no’ setting some equipment down. You made your way through. Hearing a sudden alarm go off startled you. A red light flickering on and off at the beat of the alarm.

You watched the locals for a clue of what it meant. The annoying buzzing sound ear deafening. More species came running into the passage in a quick pace. – “What does it mean?” – you shouted loud, covering up your ears. They all ignored you, picking up some equipment on the way. They then moved to the front of the broken ship. You decided to follow them, perhaps Kestis was amongst them. Smoke filled an area making you cough and wave your hand in front of you.

“Kestis?” – you called out loud in the hopes anyone would response. – “Not here.” – a voice responded yet you couldn’t see clearly who spoke. – “I am looking for him. Can you tell me where I might find him?” – you said loudly as men brushed past you as if you weren’t there. – “Try the upper levels.” – the same voice spoke through. – “Thank you!” – you replied backing up. Nearly bumping against others who came running desperately over to fix what set the alarm off. Finally some information. The upper levels. A sense of direction at last.

You made your way through the passage, looking for a way up. Not far from you dangled a line. Unable to use your sense of the force as cover, you needed to figure another way to it. Spotting a way for you to climb up and stretch your arm out for reach. So you did minding every step. Brakka wasn’t a very safe planet. One wrong step might drop you a thousand feet downwards into the abyss. Years of build up wreckage enduring as foundation. Taking a leap of jump, you caught the line, swinging back and forth.

You waited till you settled still to climb upwards. Muscles tensing as you mostly used your arms to go higher. Near the end, you swung backwards with the use of your feet to go closer to the near platform of the upper level. Groaning loud, you jumped, landing on your feet to roll further. Getting up, you didn’t see anyone at first. Entering a tunnel like tube. – “Kestis? Are you here?” – you called out, hoping for a response. You stopped, eyes narrowing trying to figure out if there was a figure standing in the dark at the end of the tunnel.

“Kestis?” – you asked loudly. – “Not Kestis.” – a woman’s voice responded. The sudden sound of a lightsaber lighting made you widen your eyes. The dark red reflecting bright against the darkness. Your heart thumping louder in your chest. Frozen to the ground as the person approached. Stepping out of the shadows to reveal their face. Eyes widening more it hurt your eye muscles. An inquisitor. The second sister. – “Y/n?” – she said taking a step closer.

You gasped loud at the mention of your name. A hint of shock hiding in her voice, face hidden by a mask. Shaking your head you knew you were in danger. – “Y/n… you…” – the second sister said moving a hand forwards. – “No!” – you screamed out, thinking she was about to choke you with her grip. You spun around taking a run for it. Knowing very well you were no match for an inquisitor at this very moment.

It was too risky to fight her without the usage of your own lightsaber you decided not to bring along. This way your cover wouldn’t accidentally be blown. Smart choice or wrong choice? The second sister came running after you, laughing loud. Her voice manipulated a bit robotic.

“Where are you going?” – The second sister called out catching up with you. You jumped down, feet slipping as you touched vast ground, shoulder hitting the ground hard. – “So it is a chase you want.” – The second sister teasingly said, looking down at you. She retracted her lightsaber, jumping down herself. You hurried up to your feet, running further. – “You cannot run from me Y/n. I’ll catch you no matter what.” – she said loud making you gasp loud. You leaped onto another platform unable to shake the second sister off your back.

Above you hung some a half broken panel with broken wires. Since your cover was already half blown, you moved your hand up. Bringing the loose panel down on the second sister. She grunted jumping away in time. – “So you like it rough?” – she chuckled slowly getting up. – “So do I.” – she cackled out. Moving your hands up you zigzagged avoiding the objects the second sister dropped near you to slow you down. Screaming loud you spurted for a way out. The obstacle course getting trickier. – “You make my wildest dreams come alive.” – you heard her call out behind you.

“What is wrong with you?” – you shouted back. Confused and weirded out how the second sister acted around you. The comments she dropped with a double meaning were very confusing. Did she like tormenting her prey before the kill? – “I want you Y/n!” – she replied setting herself off. She ran against the side of a wall, landing in front of you. You had to cut down to a sudden stop to not bump against her.

“Stop!” – you called out frightened as she approached you intimidating. You backed away as she swiftly removed her helmet. Eyes widening at the face before you as your feet came to a stop. – “Trilla?” – you whispered as her helmet dropped to the ground with loud thud. Trilla nodded slowly. – “Yes…” – she tilted her head, taking in your features. You did the same, having not seen her for so many years. Not since you were separated from her at the Jedi academy with unsaid feelings.

You couldn’t deny the leap your heart made seeing her alive. Yet it was wary of her, of what she has become. You didn’t know. You thought she was dead, mourning her for many years. Trilla’s lip trembled at the sight of you. Her eyes filling with tears as she took a step closer to you. – “You are alive…” – she said softly moving her hand upwards. She took a few more steps so that her hand could brush against your cheek. Her cold demeanor slowly faltering. Your breath shuddered when her hand touched your skin.

Making you lean into her palm. Trilla smiled with teary eyes, a few drops rolling down her cheek. You took her palm from against your cheek, leaving a sweet kiss on it. – “I am alive.” – you told her as a final reminder. Trilla grabbed your face, pressing her lips firmly onto yours. Years of unspoken feelings finally outed on the outskirts of Brakka. You forgot about Cal and the inquisitors, you forgot about it all. Only thinking of Trilla in this moment as you kissed her passionately back.

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fanfoolishness · 10 months

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the mirror (Jedi: Fallen Order)

The Second Sister wins a great victory on Bogano. So why then does she feel so hollow? Trilla POV, Cal's psychometry, whump, angst, dark side sadness. Spoilers for Jedi: Fallen Order. ~1737 words.

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Their lightsabers clash, Inquisitor red against brilliant yellow.

The symbolism is not lost on her; the Jedi Temple Guards bore yellow blades, a cursed memory from another life. The Second Sister strains against the meaningless Padawan, the last obstacle to winning favor from Lord Vader, from even the Emperor himself. This Bracca scrapper rat is now all that stands in her way, and she presses her blade --

Kestis’s blade is suddenly gone. He sidesteps quickly and her stance breaks against the sudden lightness. She hisses, wrongfooted. He pushes against her -- he’s far stronger now than at their last meeting, perhaps Cere has been training him -- and she goes flying into the mud, her lightsaber falling aside. Rage burns within her as he raises his hand --

He calls her lightsaber with the Force, and catches the hilt against his palm. His gloved hand curls around it.

She knows what he intends with such a move, this disarming. Those who still count themselves guardians of the light have always been this way -- she is certain a trite and tired speech is about to follow, some rancid nonsense about renouncing her darkness, accepting her past wounds, moving on into the blessed light. She’ll play the game, if needed. She readies herself, scrambling back to her feet, calling for the dark side for her next move --

The speech doesn’t come. She cocks her head, puzzling at him. This is -- well, this is interesting.

He’s gasping suddenly, like the air has vanished and he’s starving for it. His chest heaves. His face roils with disbelief, drawing itself into a rictus of pain. His eyes are still open, but they stare at something far beyond her, far beyond this world itself.

It comes to her then in a flash of insight. Rumors long ago in the Temple, gossip amongst the younger children. A boy with a strange and rare gift that let him see echoes in the Force and memories that were not his own. She had confirmed the rumors with her own recent research on Kestis: the liberated records from the Jedi Archives called it psychometry.

She had discarded it as a useless piece of trivia. She had never dreamed it could undo him.

She makes the calculations in an instant. The Holocron is of utmost importance here, and the Padawan merely the pawn that led her to it. Killing him would be satisfying, that was certain. A chance to cause a mortal wound against Cere? She would love nothing more.

Yet perhaps such a move would not be as easy as it appears. If she raises her hand to him now to wound him with the Force, or take his own lightsaber, it could pull him out of his reverie. If so there is a chance he could move against her with both lightsabers, a threat she does not have time to deal with. Better to leave him to whatever agonies await him, to the haunted memories trapped within her blade.

The Second Sister makes her decision. Revenge will have to wait, and losing the Holocron will still devastate Cere, a fact that brings a savage joy. The Holocron drifts to her, acquiescing to her call. She can scarcely believe the ease of it, nor the power of what she now holds. For a moment she allows herself to dream of the Emperor’s favor, resting at last with her. Perhaps with the protection of the Emperor, she could even be safe from Lord Vader --

She spares a glance to the Padawan. Kestis crumples to his knees in the mud, his face pale, eyes squeezed shut. He gasps, a grimace stretching his mouth open. She can feel his pain radiating from here.

She notes that he still has both lightsabers gripped in his trembling hands. Good. The longer he holds on, the more he’ll see.

“Be careful with that thing,” she says wryly, though she realizes now that her words cannot reach him. “It’s been through hell.”

As I have been. As you will be.

She should leave. She has her prize, her magnificent victory. It rests heavy in her hand, though the energy within buzzes back through her bones in an uncomfortable dissonance; it senses the darkness in her and resists her touch. Her lips purse. They will need to find someone who can channel the light enough to open it for them, but that will be a problem for another rotation, a problem for the torturers and their chairs. She should retreat back to her shuttle. She has achieved her goal.

But Kestis fascinates her, frozen in time as he is. She spares a step closer, then another. At this close distance, his youth is obvious; he should have barely been a Padawan even at this age, but of course, the war made soldiers of them all.

She studies his face, wondering what it must be like to see what he is seeing. It must be such a curious gift in the Force… and such a liability. Sweat beads on his forehead; tears glint at the corners of his screwed-shut eyes. He breathes heavily, flinching at things she cannot see.

He looks so terribly, terribly afraid.

Good, she thinks viciously. It should frighten you. It would frighten anyone, seeing what they’ve done to me, what I’ve become. Who made me that way. Cere’s new Padawan deserves the truth about his Master.

A sound escapes him. Something between a gasp and a cry, it’s strangled, caught in his throat. His eyes flicker open, but remain unseeing. She even waves a hand in front of his face, smirking when he shows no response.

“Enjoying yourself?” she murmurs. She knows that he is not. His emotions swirl around her, augmented by the resonances within the temple, easy to read with the dark side flowing through her. She breathes in his fear, his heartache, his suffering.

Her suffering.

For a moment, she sees herself as she was then, a naive Padawan who dared to trust her Master, who believed in things like hope and light and truth. She remembers that child, that fool, strapped to a torture table in the brutal darkness. She wonders, looking at Kestis and his misery, Did I look like this, once?

She takes a shaky step back. Her eyes sting. The filth of Bogano and its dusty, ancient ties to the light must be affecting her. Why else would she think of the mere child she was then with something like -- like pity?

Kestis’s head jerks from side to side, as if trying to wrench him back to the present. His eyes flicker closed again as if to protect him, but she can sense he is still lost in memory, drifting helplessly through the torment. The fear billowing around him shifts frantically into a sharp regret. A raging hatred.

A sorrow so deep that it could drown.

Trilla -- no, the Second Sister -- realizes she has tarried for far too long. She turns, her footsteps splashing in the mud, her heart pounding in her chest, the Holocron a prickling weight in her hand. She has to get out of here. She has to get away from that scum, that wretched Padawan, that face bearing her own agony like a mirror --

The air outside feels like a jolt to her lungs, so crisp and clean after the close air of the temple. It is nauseating. She stares wildly across the broken mesa, raising her hand to her ear for her comms, and alerts her forces. “I have the Holocron. Kill the Jedi when he emerges. We will reconvene at Fortress Inquisitorius.”

She jogs lightly down the muddy hillside, making her way back to her ship. Her throat burns with the fresh air. She must get off of this backwater world, so redolent of the light, and back to the only place that matters to her now.

The pilot nods to her as she makes her way up the ramp into the shuttle. “Ready to depart, Second Sister?”

A stiff, quick nod. “We have what we came for.”

The ship lifts around her and she sits down in the nearest seat. She lets the Holocron go, sending it afloat into the air before her, spinning it lazily. She probes it experimentally, but as expected, it remains closed. She pulls it back down again and sets it into the seat beside her.

It is a puzzle she used to remember how to solve. But the Jedi were clever with their construction of the devices, safeguarding them against the Sith and all users of the dark; she knows the hatred that burns within her so brilliantly will never let her open it herself.

No matter.

This victory is everything she has been working towards for months. A chance to prove herself, to prove that the Padawan’s evasion on Bracca had been part of an incisive calculation instead of an accident deserving of punishment. A twisted, brittle pride unfurls within her.

The ship leaps into hyperspace, and Bogano’s energy, light and insistent, finally fades from her awareness. She breathes heavily, trying to fortify herself with pride, with anger, with hatred. Perhaps the Padawan lies dead in the muck and mud of Bogano, his little droid a smoking ruin, his body scored with blaster bolts. That would be a satisfying end. But if he manages to survive… She indulges herself, picturing the boy returning to Cere, bowed low with the weight and shame of his failure.

A small smile curls her lips. She imagines Cere’s face, as stricken as it was the day they both discovered their darkness. In that moment, they were Master and Apprentice, united again… for a little while.

The smile fades. Despite herself, she remembers a different Padawan from long ago. A young girl trying to be brave, to protect the weak, to do the right thing. She remembers how hope felt, thin and fragile; she remembers how its death broke her.

She closes her eyes, redirecting her thoughts to something safer. Something crueler. She sees Kestis, sinking to his knees in shock, crippled by fear. She holds tight to the memory.

Now at last you understand. Perhaps there is a path for you to join us yet.

But the thought is a hollow one, devoid of triumph or derision. She sits there in the dark of the shuttle, the Holocron glowing gently beside her, and she feels nothing, nothing at all.

#trilla suduri #the second sister #cal kestis #jedi: fallen order #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fanfiction #my jedi fic

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rugaru · 1 year

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Hello all! :)

I got an anon request for a Cal Kestis x daughter!reader so that’s currently in the works right now. Stay tuned for that!! I’m loving how it’s going so far and I think you’ll enjoy it. Here’s the summary and a bit of a sneak peak type thing:

Dad!Cal Kestis x Child!Reader (gn reader)

I tried not to use Y/N at all but I think there’s a couple here and there.

Summary: You’ve always been told you’re stubborn, by almost everyone you knew, ever since you were young. But after you and your dad, Cal, are rescued by two strangers and sent on a wild goose chase, you’re bound to rebel against your father’s requests. Little do you know, he’s more than correct about this new planet and he’s definitely not happy when he comes back to the Mantis and finds your prolonged absence as a welcome.

Cal Kestis could go on, and on, and on about how unbelievably stubborn his child is. He’s 100% certain they learned this from both himself and Prauf, however, he would never verbally admit that he was part of the reason. Prauf on the other hand? He’d admit it until his last breath with not a hint of shame. And although Cal was proud of them, their stubbornness wasn’t always a great quality. Especially not when they were using it against him. But it’s not like he could really be mad, I mean, he was the same way at their age, and even still now. It runs in the family he supposes. Unfortunately, both he and his child learn just how quickly their stubbornness can get them into a rather sticky situation…

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x child!reader #cal kestis x y/n #jedi: fallen order #jedi: survivor #star wars #star wars x reader #merrin #merrin x reader #cere junda #greez dritus #the ninth sister #the second sister #jaro topal #eno cordova #bd 1

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manimalcrackers · 2 years

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replaying fallen order for the lore and :) :) :)

#star wars #jedi fallen order #kenobi #kenobi spoilers #obi-wan kenobi #darth vader #anakin skywalker #trilla suduri #cere junda #cal kestis #the second sister #second sister #OUCHIE #something something poetry #something something rhymes

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overlord-of-fantasy · 4 months

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No Vader! You. Will. Die!

The fifht brother: We need a diversion. I say the scond sister gets naked.

Anankin, in the back of Vaders mind: *listens up*

The grand inquisitor: No.

Vader: I could get naked.

The squad: NO!!!

#incorrect star wars quotes #darth vader #inquisitor #the grand inquisitor #star wars #star wars rebels #the fifth brother #the second sister #anakin skywalker #anakin lives in the back of vaders mind #he has a hot tub there

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jedimasterbailey · 1 year

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Just published the next chapter of my most popular story, “The Padawans”!

Chapter Summary: Ahsoka and Barriss fight against the Empire as they make their narrow escape from Dantooine.

#the padawans #my fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #ahsoka tano #barriss offee #barrissoka #anakin skywalker #luminara unduli #trilla suduri #the second sister #darth vader

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nov4-rocket5 · 2 years

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Tell me I’m wrong. Go ahead, try.

#star wars #the second sister #trilla suduri #the third sister #reva star wars #obi wan kenobi series #star wars inquisitors

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arcandoria · 2 years

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THE SECOND SISTER — for @ronqueesha

#Star Wars #Trilla Suduri #The Second Sister #Jedi Fallen Order #halk art #videogamewomen #gamingladies #I know nothing of her #aside from what Ron posts #but sometimes you gotta draw your friends blorbo

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jillian-613 · 2 years

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#star wars #jedi fallen order #jedi: fallen order #cal kestis #the second sister #trilla suduri #jedi fallen order screenshots #my screenshots

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stellanslashgeode · 9 months

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I need more motivation to finish up my light side Inquisitors fic that I'm writing as a gift to a reader so I thought I would post the first page. If I post a preview, I'll have to finish it, right?

It is an age of authoritarian rule.

SANTUARY SHIPS on the run from the EMPIRE require resources – food, medicine, and HYPERFUEL.

The Core World of RALLTIIR contains many high security vaults which the EMPIRE utilizes as storage for high value goods for their naval fleet.

On the streets below a group of young JEDI KNIGHTS closely watch their deliveries, looking for opportunities that would ensure their own fleet endures.

Sirin Kardes, often called the Seventh Sister by her colleagues, sang little Mirialan nursery rhymes to herself while she turned over hunks of garbage in the anonymous alley. This was her favorite persona for undercover operations, the crazy droid lady. All it took was donning a dirty threadbare poncho and acting a little strange. Most people were made too uncomfortable by the unhoused and mentally ill that she could shuffle all about most cities without being harassed. Plus, she sometimes found little gems.

One of her droids offered up a scuffed-up component that could be added to a transponder she was working on at home.

“Thank you, Payt. Keep your eye open for more of these.” She tucked the component into a pouch on her belt.

Her droid warbled happily tapping its legs on the ground. The two of them were her favorite droid creations so far. They had BD unit chassis but with modified, elongated heads. Payt got back to scanning the opposite side of the alley as his brother, Staabi.

Seventh Sister adjusted the old lady sunhat part of her disguise and had just gotten back to poking piles of garbage when Trilla Sundri silently dropped down onto the entrance of the alley, landing gracefully with a slight bend of her knees. Sirin grinned and shook her head. Dropping down from three stories up like that was practically the Second Sister’s signature move. She just loved doing that. To be fair it looked pretty cool.

Trilla took one last look down both sides of the street then patted her hip twice before casually walking away. That was their signal that the area was free of Imperial patrols and that it was time to move. Sirin gave her own hip a double pat, whistled to her droids, and followed behind her.

Second Sister was one of her siblings she respected the most. She never dismissed her or called her Jetii as a slur. Now that Jedi were being trained across small temples again certain masters were beginning to differentiate themselves via behavior and teaching styles. A fellow Jedi could differentiate a New Concord Dawn Jedi from a New Mandalor one, for instance. Jedi like Seventh Sister, from the Offee school, had developed a bad reputation. They were supposedly cleaved too closely to their Mandalorian neighbors and were too reckless with their emotions and passions. Sirin hated the stereotype. If they just personally knew Master Offee as closely as she they wouldn’t say such things. Barriss and Sirin had taken the creed and wore beskar proudly, so what? Why was her private life anyone’s business?

Trilla did not indulge in that nonsense. Since she had been trained by Master Unduli after the passing of her original master she understood Mirialan language and customs and sometimes joined her on religious holidays. There was only one grudge she held against the woman. Each of the siblings had their specialty. Sirin’s was interrogation while Trilla’s was tracking down individual sentients. Sirin was very good at being menacing or pestering. But she couldn’t replicate Trilla’s talent at being effortlessly spooky. That steady gaze from her big pale jade eyes, the way she could look down her long regal nose at Imperials and unsettle them, it was the only thing that provoked Sirin’s jealousy.

Oh well. She was glad Trilla was leading this mission.

#star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #the seventh sister #seventh sister #the second sister #second sister #trilla suduri

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