⤷ When the Empire fails to conquer a region of Aldahni controlled by a stubborn farm girl, Darth Vader is sent to deal with her personally. Expecting a rebellion, he instead finds a fearless, kind-hearted woman who refuses to bend—and slowly becomes the one person capable of breaking through his walls. He comes to overthrow her, but ends up falling for her instead.
⤷ unburnt!vader x farm girl!reader
⤷ fluff! 1.7K words part 2
The Empire had conquered worlds that possessed armies. It had conquered worlds that possessed wealth. It had conquered worlds that possessed heroes.
Aldahni should have been easy.
Instead, reports kept arriving on Darth Vader's desk.
The same report.
Again.
And again.
And again.
A patch of farmland in the northern highlands refused Imperial authority. Sitting exactly where the Empire wanted to build a communications array on Aldahni.
The location was perfect. The elevation was ideal. The project was approved. The machinery was delivered. The workers arrived.
And then they found a girl sitting on a fence, with her head tilted at the grey metallic supplies.
The first Imperial officer politely informed you that the land now belonged to the Empire. You informed him that it did not."I don't think so.." shaking your head.
The second officer arrived with legal documents. You offered him tea. "I have fresh herbs! I can have them brewed for you to pack." You smiled
The third officer arrived with stormtroopers. "Oh! Can I ask for a small favor? Can you help me move the big animals to the stable right there?"
Eventually, someone lost patience and attempted to physically remove you.
The reports described you as calm, polite, and reasonable. Which somehow made you more infuriating. When an officer demanded compliance, when soldiers threatened arrests, you'd just ask if they'd eaten.
No violence. No rebellion. No excuse for retaliation. Only resistance.
The district had become a stain on the Empire's perfect map. And at the center of it all was you.
Not a senator. Not a rebel commander. Not a warrior.
A farmer.
-
Three months later, the communications array still wasn't built.
The Emperor became aware of the situation.
Which made everyone else's lives significantly worse.
A meeting was called aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer. Dozens of officers stood rigidly around a conference table. A hologram of Aldahni rotated in the center. The highlighted area was embarrassingly small. One tiny green square.
Silence filled the room.
Then Darth Vader spoke. "Explain." Adjusting his robe as he sat down
Nobody wanted to.
An unfortunate admiral eventually cleared his throat. "The landowner refuses compliance."
"Execute her then."
"We attempted arrest."
"And?"
The admiral visibly sweated. No answer
Vader's eyes narrowed.
The admiral looked miserable.
Another officer quietly added: "We- we'll look into it, Lord Va-."
"Leave." Palpatine's hologram hissed
The officers quickly left the conference room
"Lord Vader." Palpatine's yellow eyes narrowed. "You will resolve this personally."
-
The Imperial shuttle descended through the clouds. Word spread across the valley before it even landed.
This was absurd. A waste of his time. The Empire conquered planets. Entire systems. Yet somehow he was being forced to travel across the galaxy because of a farmer.
"A farmer." He grumbled inside his head.
The shuttle landed. The ramp lowered.
Vader stepped into the sunlight and immediately spotted you.
You were exactly where the reports said you'd be. Sitting on a fence, swinging your legs, eating a fruit.
Watching him approach. Looking completely unimpressed.
That annoyed him instantly.
You tilt your head, observing the sharp features, cold eyes, dark robes whipping in the mountain wind. "He looked every bit like a conqueror." You thought. You remained seated on a fence post as he walked towards you.
Vader stopped in front of you.
"So you are the source of the resistance." He studies you up and down
You shrugged and considered that.
"Would you like something to drink?" You squinted your eyes at the sharp sunlight as you looked up at him
"I am not interested in games." He looks around at the small house and farmland the Empire wanted so much.
"That's unfortunate. Games are fun." You took another bite.
"You know you are causing considerable inconvenience for the Empire, yes?"
"Yeah, you flew all the way here for that?" tilting your head
His jaw tightened. "You occupy Imperial property."
"No."
"It belongs to the Empire."
"It belongs to me."
"The Empire says otherwise."
You shrugged. "The Empire wasn't here first."
The Force swirled around the valley. Yet there was no fear. None.
Everyone feared him. Everyone.
But not you.
Vader expected anger, defiance, fear. It was deeply irritating.
He stared at you.
You stared back.
The silence stretched. Neither moved.
Eventually, she pointed toward the house. "Do you want tea?"
He blinked. Nobody had ever offered Darth Vader tea.
He should have left.
He should have removed you immediately.
He should have ended this ridiculous situation.
Instead, somehow, he found himself sitting on a wooden porch, holding a cup, definitely small for him
Watching a farm girl argue with him.
"You don't understand galactic politics."
"You don't understand potatoes."
His eye twitched. "I did not come here to discuss potatoes."
"Then why are you staring at my field?" You look at his relaxed posture
Because he had been, for several minutes. Without realizing.
The rustle of wind through trees and the low, contented hum of livestock surround both of you. Sunsets bathe the rolling hills or pastures in warm, golden, and orange hues, bringing an immense sense of quiet and contentment. He glanced at you, and something in him just wanted to stay.
-
Vader intended to crush the problem. Instead, the problem became strangely difficult to define.
The Empire remained for months.
He stayed longer than intended.
Then longer than that.
Every morning, he found another reason to stay. Another meeting. Another inspection. Another discussion. And somehow every discussion led back to you.
The truth was simpler.
He kept coming back.
He'd find you repairing fences, or carrying feed, or walking through fields at dawn. And you treated him exactly the same every time.
No awe, no terror, no hatred.
Which might have been worse.
You never cared who he was.
That was the problem. Governors feared him, admirals obeyed him. Entire worlds trembled when he entered orbit.
Meanwhile, you would glance up from repairing a fence and casually say: 'Oi, You're blocking the sunlight." As if he were a tree.
-
One evening, he arrived to find you lying in the grass. Just lying there with your hands folded behind your head.
The sky above Aldhani was unusually clear.
Vader approached, you scooted over slightly, making room, even if they were in the open field
"What are you doing?" He looks down at you
"I am waiting."
"For what?"
You pointed upward. "The Eye."
Vader followed your gaze.
The Eye of Aldhani.
The celestial phenomenon occurred only once a year. Millions of brilliant meteors painted rivers of color across the night sky, turning the heavens into a living ocean of light.
He had heard of it. Never seen it. Never cared to.
You patted the grass beside you.
To your credit, you did not actually expect Darth Vader to sit in a field.
To your surprise— he did.
The valley grew darker. The first stars appeared. The distant mountains became silhouettes against the horizon.
Then suddenly—
A streak of green cut across the sky.
Another followed.
Then ten more.
Then hundreds.
The heavens erupted.
Veins of emerald, violet, gold, and blue spilled across the darkness like paint poured onto black water.The entire sky seemed alive.
Even Vader found himself staring.
For once, there was no mission. No orders. No Emperor. No war.
Only light. Endless light.
Beside him, the farm girl smiled without taking her eyes from the sky.
"See?"
He remained silent.
"Beautiful.. just admire the view, be quiet." You shush the quiet Vader
Another wave swept overhead.
Reflections of color danced across the fields.
Across the house. Across your face.
Vader realized you weren't watching the Eye anymore.
You were watching him. Watching his reaction.
As though you had spent months trying to prove something.
"What?" he asked.
A grin tugged at your lips. "Nothing."
"That is clearly untrue."
You shrugged. "You look... different."
His expression hardened immediately. "Different how?"
You thought for a moment."Like someone who remembers what wonder feels like."
The words struck harder than they should have.
His gaze returned to the sky. A thousand colors flowed overhead.
For years, his life had been steel corridors.
War rooms, Destroyers, Orders, Power.
Always power.
And yet none of it felt as vast as this moment.
A farm. A field. A girl.
And a sky full of stars falling apart.
Eventually, you spoke again, very softly as you looked back to the sky.
"So why do you keep coming back here?" The Eye reflected in her eyes.
He had faced Jedi Masters, assassins, politicians, and entire armies.
Yet somehow this question was harder, because he knew the answer. He just didn't want to say it.
Vader stared upward. Because answering while looking at you felt dangerous. More dangerous than any battlefield.
The colors drifted across the darkness.
The galaxy seemed infinitely far away.
And for the first time in years—
He wished it would stay that way.
-
The next morning, the Emperor finally summoned him; the message arrived with unmistakable urgency.
Vader stood alone in his quarters, staring at the transmission.
Then he looked out the window. Toward distant fields. Toward a farm.
Toward a girl who had somehow accomplished what entire armies could not.
You had made him remember himself. Not Darth Vader.
Anakin.
The man buried beneath duty and darkness. The man who once dreamed of freedom. The man who had loved sunlight.
When he arrived at the farm that evening, you were sitting beneath a tree. Waiting like you already knew. "You're leaving?" You ask
He sat beside you.
For a long moment neither spoke.
Finally, he said quietly, "I came here to overthrow you."
You smiled softly. "And?"
Vader shows a small smile, "Maybe next time."
The next morning, every officer aboard the Star Destroyer received a direct order.
The communications array project on Aldhani was permanently suspended.
No explanation was given. No one was foolish enough to ask why.
Far below, on a single acre of land, a farm girl was feeding groats while the most powerful man in the Empire stared out of a shuttle window as it slowly rose and pretended the decision had been entirely strategic.
No goodbyes, and neither of them mentioned that night
But he kept thinking about it.
And, much to his annoyance,
He kept thinking about you.
I miss watching andor sm, disney pls give us another 75% off membership,, uwu. ALSO, this prompt had been on my mind for monthss, i just didn't know how to write it. and yes potatoes are canon.. in MY star wars. heh. This may be my favorite work done, idk please give me feedback if you can!
I AM YOURS IN THE END | Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader x F!Reader
Summary: When you're captured by the Empire and brought onboard his ship for interrogation, Anakin must face you for the first time since his betrayal.
Word Count: 8.5K
Warnings: 18+. Heavy angst. Betrayal. Lovers to enemies to ?. Anakin as Vader if the battle on mustafar didn't happen (he still wears the mask for intimidation). Truly insane levels of devotion (to the point it makes the poor guy stupid). Some graphic violence. Murder. Semi-public sex. Sex in a cell–there is a dead stormtrooper in the room but not near them and isn't really mentioned after death.
A/N: This is unrealistic as hell but we're going with it 🖤 also sorry if the smut and ending sucks, i was kind of unsure about it but if i looked at it any longer i would have deleted the whole thing
You were exactly how Anakin remembered.
A little bloody. More than a little bruised. Features hidden beneath an unruly veil of gorgeous hair except for the all too familiar, blazing glow of your eyes searing into him the moment he stepped into your cell.
It's ironic, a cruel voice in his mind whispered, that seeing you in this kind of state is what had driven him here in the first place all those years ago–to the dark-side of the force, to him.
He had just wanted the war to stop, delusional he knew, but the acidic fear that had scorched his throat every time you left his arms had grown too much.
It had morphed, festered, into a vicious and gnawing thing that clawed through his veins like a sickness, a disease.
Devouring his morality and his good sense until both had obviously rotted from the inside out if he had been able to convince himself that death would stop when evil won.
But there had been too many times where he had almost lost you for him to remain the rational boy Obi-Wan had cautioned him so often to be.
Too many times he'd clung to your limp hand whilst you'd lay unconscious and broken in the temple's medbay and he'd prayed to the force, please don't take her too.
Over time it had devastated something vital within him, corroded away the remaining strength of his hope until it felt like he was constantly drained by fear. His lungs and his desperate heart choking on the darkness that loomed with the constant threat of your death.
He'd foolishly thought his betrayal would unlock the stalemate of that never-ending war, that he would be the tipping of the scales that brought about the eventual prophesied stability to the galaxy.
Even if it was a wretched one paid for in the blood of those who had taken him in and raised him.
But Anakin had been blind in his despair, and out of the ashes of the once great order, a faction of remaining Jedi had only grown more determined in retaliation– you had grown more determined.
It had first been brought to his attention with whispers of your name spat like a curse, the sound of it striking terror and fury in equal measure as the frequency of those whispers grew. Inciting hatred in his new master until you were condemned to be hunted throughout the galaxy for the rest of your life.
There was no escaping your face plastered on the wanted posters alongside the man he had once called brother– the bounty on your heads that rose with every strike you made to tear this new empire down from its roots.
He wanted to laugh, wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you for it and then shake you so hard that your teeth clacked for being so fucking predictably noble.
It made him furious each time.
Any flawlessly disguised flicker of longing he felt, swiftly drowned out when he sensed the sharp spike of hate surging through those around him and cursed you for your recklessness.
He was surprised they hadn't killed you the moment they had you rather than bringing you to him, and for a sickening moment Anakin thought that it would have been easier.
Easier than having to face you like this.
To look directly into your condemnation, into the eyes that he still loved so much that now bore hatred beyond measure for who he had become, and not fall to his knees and beg that you understand.
Because it was you, suddenly much closer than you had been in years and you were still so fucking beautiful that Anakin was stricken with it.
So glorious despite the years of hardship you had faced, as the grime and blood that painted your skin did nothing to hide the way you shone–to smother that light that lit you up from within whilst you glared at him with all the rage of an avenging goddess.
It was the worst kind of struggle to remain impassive in the face of it all– to hold himself quiet behind the helmet whilst you hissed and spat at him like a scorned animal.
You always had been a sight to behold in your fury, he remembered. A firestorm bound within tissue and bone, excruciatingly beautiful and just as deadly.
It had concerned many back when you were padawans, the flare of your anger on the occasion it was enticed, but it had been one of the things Anakin had found himself intrigued by.
Enamoured with it even when he occasionally found himself on the receiving end of it, uncaring if it reduced him to nothing more than a smoking husk if it meant he got to burn with you for only a moment.
And even then, all those years later, it still made his fingers twitch with the desire to take you in his arms, to seal his mouth to yours and drink the heat from your veins until he was a beautiful, smouldering ruin.
He didn't though–you'd have probably fucking bitten him. Mauled him into something bloody and torn in a flash of pearly white teeth the second he got too close, given the way you were looking at him.
But fuck, he ached with just how much he wanted to.
He missed you.
**
They went round and round for days, every conversation, if it could even be called one, a dead end.
A completely infuriating disaster because by the time he had gathered his courage, swallowing his heart until it dislodged from his throat, and spoke to you, your disdain and spite for those around you had far outweighed any desire you had to live.
You refused to say a single thing that wasn't dredged in insult. That hadn't been honed, sharpened to a needle point, and directed at the weak, fleshy parts of him so you could see if he still bled as you did, and Anakin, quite frankly, was close to ripping his hair out from the root in frustration.
Each time he visited after that you grew that little bit worse for wear, clothes torn in new places, skin painted in the colours of the troopers’ violence and it made him desperate. It made him fucking wrathful.
There was suddenly the weight of a dooming time limit upon his shoulders because surely it wouldn't be long until he could no longer contain the fury that gathered around him like a storm.
Not when every new part of you cut open and left to fester picked at him until he was a walking, breathing, raw nerve–the force crackling beneath his skin with a borderline deranged, volatile energy.
It was getting too dangerous because he couldn’t leave you alone.
He never had been able to shake your presence even after so many years apart, and now that you were so close again it was only made that much worse.
That innate sense of each other buzzing softly beneath your skins, like you had walked into the others chests one day long ago and decided there was home for the rest of your lives– burrowing in their tissue and their bones and the hearts that weren't yours, until they suddenly were, from the first time they felt your touch.
If he was smart he would have stayed away, he would have eliminated any possibility of a considered remaining connection.
But there was a fucking hook buried in the meat of his heart that kept snagging him back to you whenever he tried to keep his distance and it was only a matter of time before someone noticed how he lingered.
How he tensed at your pain.
How he was the only one who hadn't laid so much as a finger on your pretty little head and the ones who had soon ended up dead in mysterious accidents.
He needed you out of there, needed you somewhere where the weight of your judgement and the danger you were in didn't constantly squeeze at his lungs until they popped like balloons and made him consider doing something so incredibly stupid.
Reasoning with you was pretty much useless.
"You know you have to tell me something or he's going to kill you."
"Is this the amazing interrogation techniques your precious master has been teaching you? Go to hell, Sith. I'm not telling you a damn thing.'
"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?"
"Hm, I'm not sure–why did you turn out to be such a coward?"
Your eyes were wickedly bright as you glared at him– sharp with a disgust that cut so deeply through his chest he wondered if you could see the gleam of bone, the frail, desperate beating of his guilt riddled heart.
Not that he suspected you would have cared if you could.
And of course he had been foolish to think you'd consider your own safety.
You were one of the poster children of the Order after all. The self sacrificing, righteous to the end Jedi, bathed in a halo of angelic light, and now you looked at him like he was nothing more than a horror story. The hero turned monster who sold his soul to the devil.
You didn't consider your life worthy of betraying a cause, you were too humble for that. Too noble.
Anakin would just have to do it for you.
Again.
**
He tried to plan it right, tried to do things the smart way this time around.
The Empire was nothing like the Republic or the Jedi after all, if he'd been caught the first time there would have been questions– a trial, as democracy would have demanded, respectfully upheld by the Jedi.
They would have probably even wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe because they would have wanted to understand why their chosen one would deal them such a devastating blow.
Most likely, because despite the horror that they saw daily, they were still a bunch of bleeding hearts that believed too much in forgiveness and second chances.
Here, Palpatine would just kill him.
Or worse, his new master would destroy him, mind, body and soul, by torturing and killing you in front of him before he finished him off.
He didn't just want to do it right– he needed to.
But then, of course, everything went to hell.
He thought he knew how it felt to be afraid, to be downright terrified, the kind that struck him still and flooded his belly with nausea, skin flushing cold because his blood had turned to ice beneath his skin.
But he didn’t think his heart had ever stopped before. Couldn’t remember a time when fear had wrapped its fingers around the muscle and strangled it so tight behind his ribs that he felt every painfully weak stutter until finally, for one dreadful moment that seemed to span eons, there was nothing at all.
That was the feeling waiting for him when he rounded the corner to your cell only days later to find you pressed up against the wall. Someone he didn't recognise, a new initiate drunk on power or trying to prove themselves maybe, crushing your throat in one hand whilst the other dug a blaster viciously into the meat of your stomach and Anakin saw fucking red then.
The images speared through his consciousness in fragments– fresh blood smeared over your face, a split lip, a bruised jaw. The realisation dawning in your eyes and the defiant tilt of your chin as you prepared to face your own death head on without a flicker a fear.
They whirled faster and faster behind the burning amber of his own eyes until he thought he'd be sick with it, until an unholy rage roared so loudly within him that it shook his soul and he lunged, slamming his entire weight into your attacker's body with enough force to send them both sprawling across the cell.
And once Anakin had him, that was it.
The blaster that had clattered to the floor upon impact would be no help to him even if he had been able to reach it. No power or weapon or any god the worthless piece of shit might have prayed to could offer him salvation from the man who had come for him.
Anakin had turned too rabid for that, something primal and pulsing dark burst from his chest and he was on top of the man in seconds– hands clawing at his helmet until he found a solid enough grip to slam his head into the ground over and over.
It was like he couldn't stop– he didn't see the man beneath him, the helmet that had splintered and caved from the force of Anakin ramming it against the ground until there was nothing but a mangled mess with crimson seeping through the cracks.
It still wasn't enough to sate him.
Not until he drowned out the sound of your desperate struggle for breath by reaching out a gloved hand into the air towards the cause of it and clenching tight until the sickening crack of bone echoed throughout the room.
And once it was over, as soon as the body went limp beneath him , he found himself crawling over to you. His movements half frantic, his mind utterly gone except for thoughts of you as his gore-slick hands wrenched his helmet off and threw it away before scrambling for purchase against the cold stone floor once again.
He found you curled up on the floor, your back facing rigidly to him and your knees pressed so tight to your chest it made his own bones ache.
His face crumbling with self-loathing and grief when he realised that your frame was hunched in on itself like you had been shielding yourself from his violence– like you were trying to make yourself too small to be seen so he wouldn’t turn all of that monstrous rage upon you next.
There was the feeling of something fracturing in his chest the longer he looked, guilt blooming like thorns upon his ribs to slice him open as he pet at you with trembling hands and lowered his head to yours with a soft whimper of your name.
You shuddered against him, voice strained and devastatingly small. "Please stop. Stop pretending like you still care."
It was like you didn't even have the energy left to fight, to be angry at him, to push him away or draw him close so you break him as only you could and it made his eyes burn with the threat of tears he wasn't sure he had the strength to swallow down. His throat already squeezing painfully tight as you whispered. "Just kill me now yourself or leave me to die, it'll be easier on us both."
"No." The word punched out of his lungs, ragged and violent, and you flinched when his arm wound over your stomach, gathering you against him as his body curved itself around yours before his voice dropped to something impossibly broken. "I can't."
"Why?"
"You know why, my love."
It wounded you both in some way, the acknowledgement that he still loved you.
He felt it the moment you went rigid in his arms, when the endearment slipped from his lips like the years of betrayal and torment had never happened– reduced to, for a single blissful second, nothing but a terrible dream.
But then there was the ragged stutter of your breath as the reality of it all flooded back with renewed vigor, the painfully shallow gasps before the first sob managed to heave it's way from your throat as you broke beneath the force of it's grief.
You turned in his arms then, not to seek comfort, but to beat weakly at his chest as if you desperately needed to place all that pain somewhere, anywhere, else. Quivering fingers barely able to form into fists but you were determined, at least, to try.
It was dangerous to linger like this, Anakin knew.
Anyone could round that corner to your cell as easily as he had, they could see the door flung wide open from where he had charged through it without a single thought in his head other than protecting you.
They could see the crumpled body of one of their own, the blood splattered across the floor and the walls that shone like tar in the awfully dim lighting.
They could see Anakin, heartsick and in agony, as he took every blow you deemed worthy of delivering with nothing more than a tightening of his arms around you and soft mouth sounds meant to soothe pressed into your hair, mumbled among a litany of apologies that would never feel like enough.
For the first time in years he felt a twinge of fear at the fact death could be only seconds away and yet still, he couldn't will himself to move.
How could he when he was finally holding you again?
When you were in his arms after all this time and you still fit against him so perfectly that it felt devastating in its sense of rightness. When you were willingly touching him, even if it was only for the sake of laying hands on him, and Anakin was delusional enough to wonder if a part of you still cared because he'd seen you in much worse states, levelling a far harder blow.
So why weren't you hurting him then?
He would allow it.
He would allow it as he allowed this to go on and on– quietly and without restraint because you needed it.
He simply waited and curled you into him tighter as your sobs rose, his own tears streaking through sweat and the flakes of dried blood scattered over his cheeks as years worth of withheld sorrow burst like a dam. Words pouring from your mouth, fractured and devastated.
"I hate you."
"I know."
"No you don't!" You cried out, your head jerking back from under his chin so he had no choice but to witness up close the agonised strain in your eyes.
"You have no idea. No idea what it was like to love you so much that I could have happily drowned in it, to see a whole future with you and actually believe more than anything I've ever believed in, that we could have it. Only to then wake up in the medbay with no idea where you were before Obi-Wan eventually caved after days of me asking and told me you were gone."
He hated hearing the way your voice hitched with the pain of those memories, the way your bottom lip trembled the same way he imagined it did when you were given the news of his desertion.
He hated that he was the cause of it all and yet he didn't know if it was that new piece of suffocating guilt added to an already mountainous pile that made him fracture, or the fact you seemed to believe it was so easy for him to leave you, but he found himself getting defensive.
A hot flash of anger like a struck match flaring in his gut that he couldn’t douse before his own pain cracked him open.
"And you think that was an easy decision for me to make?" He fumed, his voice turning harsh, bitter, for the first time despite the way his brain screamed not to turn this into a fight. “You think I didn't love you just as much and want that future with you just as badly? Do you really believe I just threw everything we had away to willingly become this for no reason?”
“Why then? What possible explanation could there be for breaking both our hearts and becoming everything you always claimed to hate–”
“Because you came back from yet another battle half dead!” Anakin exploded. “I told the council it felt like a trap, I told you it felt like a trap, and no one listened and you nearly died!”
The words were ripping their way out of him and suddenly he couldn't stop, he couldn't shove them back anymore than he could shove his own guts back into his belly if you sliced him open.
“How many times did you expect me to helplessly sit by a bed and hold your hand whilst you fought for your life because you had followed their orders without thought. Because you were always so willing to sacrifice yourself. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
You shoved him away from you then, scrambling to put your back to the wall and your arms over your chest like you were determined to protect yourself from what he was saying. From the guilt that tried to latch itself to your skin and sink into your bones as you stared at the ruined boy you had once loved.
The boy who told you he had committed unspeakable acts all because he had loved you to the point of insanity.
"So what then?” You scoffed but it wasn't nearly as derisive as Anakin suspected you were trying for. Instead it was heavy, full of hurt, heartbreak given form. “I nearly died a few times and you thought joining them, the ones trying to kill me, to kill us all, was the way to put a stop to that? Did all those times diving head first into endless fights yourself rattle your brain or did I just never notice how much of an idiot you are."
Anakin blanched, his jaw clenching as he copied you, pulling himself upright and looking away only for the few seconds it took to draw a shaky breath. He couldn't argue with you there admittedly, but still.
“I wasn't exactly thinking straight." He snarked, his bare hand scrubbing over his face before he huffed a sad, mirthless laugh. “Funnily enough, nearly losing the love of your life multiple times will do that to you. I was grasping at straws and thought I could end the war sooner this way and keep you safe."
You sat watching him for a moment, silent, something flickering behind your lovely eyes that he couldn't quite decipher, not now, not anymore.
But he was worn down enough that he let himself hope, let himself believe that maybe it was a sign you were about to relent even just slightly, that you would believe he was trying to keep you safe if you believed nothing else and then maybe you would listen so he could get you out of here.
It was stupid of him, really, to think you would slow down after only moments of anger when you had years of it hoarded and clutched closely to your chest like a newborn babe.
Because you were suddenly regarding him with a dark kind of humour. A cruel smile kissing the corner of your pretty mouth before you laughed, the sound equally as hollow as his had been, as you rolled your eyes. "Over exaggerating your abilities there weren't you, Vader. Maybe you do belong here after all with that ego of yours."
You were determined to wound him now it seemed, determined to ignore any mention of loving you, past or present, and fine. He could allow that for now if it meant draining some of that hate from you the way one would an infection.
"If I remember correctly you never seemed to think my abilities were over exaggerated before." He taunted, unable to help himself from swiping low if you were going to first.
It felt like falling back into old habits– the stretched curve of his smirk pulling at his lips with no other reason but to see if he was still capable of working his way beneath your skin. "In fact, you used to praise certain ones so enthusiastically that it'd be hard for any man to keep his ego in check."
He watched like a hawk as you bristled, starving for a glimpse of the girl he once loved all too well, her steel and her rage and that tongue that was whip-sharp. It made him suck in a quick, quiet breath, when your eyes flashed, something swirling hot and hungry in them when they subconsciously raked over him that made his blood flame.
But then you were shaking your head, pressing your fingers harshly into the ground like you were stopping yourself from either grabbing for him or throwing a punch at him.
"Shut the fuck up, Anakin." You hissed. "You don't get to talk about before or about us like that– like it's all some big joke to you."
His brow rose then, as did something in his chest that had his heart thudding a little harder. Because yeah, maybe the use of his old name set his teeth on edge but god, he couldn't help but feel a stirring of emotion, something a little proud, a touch possessive and wanting, at the way you still guarded the history between you so fiercely.
He swallowed hard.
If there was some part of your relationship, any part at all, that you still cherished, that you kept locked up safe in the warm corners of your heart instead of scorching it from your mind like any sane person would have, then maybe he had a chance to get through to you.
Maybe you would let him save you.
"If I thought our love was a joke, would I have betrayed everything I've ever truly believed in for it?” He asked softly all of a sudden, his heart aching like a bruise when your expression turned distraught, like you knew exactly what he was doing. What he was going to say next.
“Nothing else could make me join those who have caused nothing but pain in my life, and everyone's that I've cared for too, but the opportunity of the slightest chance of protecting you."
You made a small, broken sound at that and shook your head wildly when he whispered your name, like you were desperate for him to stop. To keep a tight hold of the anger he was trying to pry from you with frantic fingers so you wouldn't fall apart.
It hurt him to have to push on, to break down those walls you had thrown up so high around your wounded heart. But as he watched your lip tremble, your eyes that grew glossier by the second yet refused to part from his own, he knew that this was necessary.
That he wasn't just being selfish in wanting so badly for your heart to be laid bare to him once more, he needed it to be if you were to trust him enough to go anywhere with him.
"Would I be planning to turn traitor again, risking my life again, because no one from the cause we have both gave everything to is coming to save you. I can't do it anymore,” he admitted quietly, and he knew from that the expression on your face that he looked pained, that any effort at pretence had melted away and he appeared as broken to you now as he felt.
“I can't see one more bruise or any more blood on that perfect face of yours and pretend that I won't tear this place apart with my bare hands and kill whoever put them there."
You went painfully still as you stared at him, stunned. Eyes wide and your chest stuttering with each jagged breath as he crawled closer to where you had scooted back against the wall.
"Vader." The name expelled itself from your body in a rush, a panicked blurt as your hand flung up in a limp effort to discourage him from coming closer.
And yet still he didn't stop until your fingers brushed his suited chest, the contact zapping electricity between you as you both shuddered.
He wondered if you could feel the erratic pounding of his heart, the way his chest lurched when it rose, as his fingertips trailed over the soft warmth of your skin before he curled his hand around your own.
"You can hate me all you want." He promised though the words felt like shards of glass in his mouth.
"Please stop."
"But I love you." He croaked. "Even if you hate me to the day I die– I will still love you."
Your face crumbled. Lashes fluttering rapidly like it was suddenly too difficult to look at him, to bear the pain and his love that he'd moulded together with his own hands and shoved deep into your centre.
"Anakin." His heart lurched again at the sound of his name but your voice sounded so weak, so fragile, and the bittersweet taste of it was a different kind of agony all on its own. "You have no idea how much I miss you."
"I'm right here."
He cupped your cheeks, trying to soothe you with tender strokes of his thumbs over your tear-streaked skin but you were already shaking your head, frustration flashing over your pretty features for a moment.
"No you don't understand. I miss you all the time, even when I shouldn't– even when your name is thrown around every time that monster uses you like his attack dog, like he wants me to know it's you who's enabling him to take us out by the dozens. Even when I recognise you despite that hideous mask and it makes me feel physically sick because it's like repeating the day I lost you again and again. I still miss you, no matter how hard I try I can't stop, and it's killing me. You're killing me, Anakin."
“Don't say that, please– I love you.” He grieved, his forehead falling to press against yours and voice smeared with anguish. “I'm sorry–I'm so sorry–I never meant for this, I only ever wanted to keep you safe–”
There was the excruciating sense of something wrenching beneath his ribs and when you cut him off with the sudden, aching press of your lips against his, Anakin wasn't entirely sure that the pain of it all hadn't finally killed him.
Too afraid to move or make a sound lest the moment fracture and reveal itself to be nothing but a dream to comfort him in passing, born of his starved longing.
But not even his most vivid dreams could ever replicate the taste of you, the way your mouth slotted against his like the stars that made up your beings had designed you both to fit together perfectly.
It was that sensation, that feeling of half of his soul returning to him, that awoke him from his paralyzed state, a wounded sound clawing up his throat as he shuddered beneath the hesitant touch of your warm fingers against his face.
His own hands found every inch of you that he could reach then, your face and your hair, the slopes of your shoulders and the lengths of your arms. Trembling with a reverence saved for the most devoted of worshippers whilst they relearned the curves of your waist and slid over your back, strong arms binding tight as he hauled you flush against him.
And there he held you like he would die if he ever let you go for even a moment.
Like the galaxy could crumble down around you both and Anakin would gladly let it if it meant he could continue kissing you for just a second longer.
You whispered his name into the heat of his mouth, voice tender with a devastating kind of want, and his lungs hitched–every limb in his body falling pliant to your will as you pushed him back against the cold floor. More than happy to let you manipulate him in any way you deemed fit because you clearly needed it and he needed you and nothing else mattered.
Except, of course, your reassurance that this was what you truly wanted. That you could possibly still want him after everything he'd done.
With a shaky breath, he caught at your hands that had left a trail of fire from the broad width of his shoulders, down his chest and over his stomach, to the waistband of his pants. Trapping your fingertips there just before they had the chance to dip below and send his mind into a spin.
And when your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the beginnings of the frown that pinched your brow melting into a soft sort of surprise once you registered the sight of him, he wondered if the concern and desperation that he felt was visibly warring across his face for you to read.
"Are you sure?” He asked hoarsely. His fingers drawing gentle, hesitant lines over your own as he swallowed. "You don't– I don't want to if you're not."
There was silence for a second, maybe two, and when during that time you only watched him, appearing unmoored by the question and visibly pained, he closed his eyes in shame as the sickly heat of guilt crashed through him.
Anakin moved to sit up and carefully lift you from his lap, to create some distance so that you could both breathe because of course this wasn't right, not when you were both so raw from a fight, a confession, that was the accumulation of years of heartache, spilled blood and betrayal. Suffering from newly established wounds that lay above all of those old ones that had never fully healed in the absence of each other.
But suddenly you were reaching for him in protest, stubbornly holding on and winding yourself around him in an unyielding grip like the very idea of being separated once again, for even an inch, was too painful to bare.
Kissing him with a certainty that he felt searing deep in his bones, his heart pulsing violently behind his ribs at the sweet nudge of your nose against his as you murmured. "Please, Ani, I want to. Don't make me miss you for a second longer."
A ragged noise spilled from his throat at that and then he was drawing you impossibly closer. Crushing you into his chest until he could bury his face in the warm crook of your neck and feel the pulse there fluttering against his lips.
He brushed his mouth over it once and then again a as your head tilted into his, a little firmer like he wanted to taste it, to swallow it down into his chest and feel the beat of it in rhythm with his own heart. Arms clamping tight and voice a low rasp when you shivered.
"Never again." He promised, and when he raised his head his eyes were shining, tears collecting in the corners and glittering in the weak light of the cell. "Whatever happens, I'll never leave you unless you will it. And even then, you'll have to kill me first and banish my ghost just to attempt keeping me away."
You let out a watery laugh and he felt something deep inside of him melt at the sound. That part of him that had grown so cold without you, glowing soft at first before it flared brighter with the way your gaze gentled, sweet and adoring, when he kissed the salt from your cheeks.
You caught his mouth with yours before he could say another word, kissed him deep and so full of love that it stole the breath from his lungs and made him dizzy.
It made him grip you that little bit harder, losing himself to your fingers in his hair and his curved around the nape of your neck and the dip of your waist, tightening once more when you jaggedly rolled your hips and whimpered at the feel of him.
“Anakin…please.” You breathed.
So he pressed in close and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to recall all the exact ways that he used to make you keen so he could do it over and over again.
“I know, I know–” He gasped, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so good– I can't–”
You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me? I’ll give you anything you want, angel, please.”
You drew his hands down then, pressing them to where the button of your pants rested against the warm curve of your stomach and when he groaned at your permission, the way it took barely a touch for that button to almost slide completely free, you took advantage of his distraction by kissing every part of him you could reach.
“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, shivering when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric shifting in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.”
And for a few hellish seconds there was the crushing absence of your weight in his lap, of your touch in his hair and all over his body, but then his eyes rose to where you'd hastily stood. Shoving down your pants with the kind of franticness that would have once made him laugh, made him tease you for your eagerness for him, but now, it just had him scrambling to help with equal desperation.
With them gone he found his hands trembling uncontrollably at the thought of touching you, at the thought of what the feel of your skin against his would do to him after all these years. He already felt like he was unravelling, everything he was unspooling like thread into a tangled mess of heartache and guilt and so much unyielding devotion at your feet.
It was magnetic, a pull at his soul, that yearning in his chest a living, breathing, starved thing howling through the spaces between his ribs, that pushed him to his knees before you. That drew his hands to your bare ankles and then led them to map over your calves, tracing every dip and mark higher and higher as he pressed his face into your warm thigh and let loose a shaky breath.
He kissed you there when words failed him, a soft, quivering thing that turned into a choked noise when you gently cupped his chin like he was the most precious thing in the galaxy and tilted it so he could look at you whilst your other hand worked the glove from his prosthetic hand.
"I said I wanted you to touch me," you breathed, the glove dropping to the ground with a barely there thud as you gently slipped your fingers between his metal ones. "That means all of you."
He could only stare at you like you were something heaven sent, like you were an angel in human form that in a hundred lifetimes, never mind this one, he would never be truly worthy of touching, of loving. Of having you love him so unconditionally.
But he would try to be.
Stars, for you he would never stop this time until it killed him.
Anakin matched your helpless moan the moment you lowered yourself back in his arms, when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit.
“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”
Tell me what you like now. Tell me what still feels good. Tell me exactly how you need it so I can give you everything you want.
Tell me, tell me tell me.
"Fuck, yes– please– don’t stop.” You rushed out, a weak and wounded sound spilling out past your lips as he slipped a finger inside you, a second.
It made your eyes glaze when he curled them just right, back arching lightly, made your forehead fall against his when his touches bloomed with confidence as the slick sound of you being fucked on his hand grew across the silence.
"I won't– I've got you." He promised hoarsely between slow, indulgent kisses that swallowed down every beautiful little sound you made before they could fully escape.
But it didn't take long for you to grow desperate for more, for an ache to grow faster than the pleasure could burn it away.
He could sense it in the way your eyes turned a shade too bright and your nails bit into his shoulders, the tremble in your mouth as you kissed him back like you were terrified he'd disappear from beneath your hands, and then there was his name– spoken on a cracked sob.
"Anakin."
"It's okay, I'm here." He soothed, ghosting a featherlight touch of his metal thumb over your cheek, your jaw, pressing it to the soft plush of your lower lip and letting out a low, wrecked noise when you instinctively lay a gentle kiss to the tip. "I'm right here, angel, what do you need?"
"I just need to feel you." You whimpered, so shakily that it made him ache, that he felt each stutter of his flayed raw heart as you pressed into the hand at your cheek. "Feels like I'm gonna die if I don't."
Something collapsed within his chest at that, because he knew that feeling far too well. He knew the specific pain of it slicing beneath his ribs, of it tearing through his mind until the ache of it tainted every part of him.
And god, if he didn't desperately want to take every ounce of it away from you then but there was something holding him back, making him hesitate as he drew his hand from between your thighs and curved it softly around your hip.
"I don't want to hurt you, let me make you feel good first–"
But you were already shaking your head and any argument died on his tongue when you snuck you hand between your two bodies and then down past his waistband to palm his length, stroking him soft and slow. Determined to have have him as you wanted and Anakin had lost enough battles with you to know when it was happening again.
"You won't hurt me." You argued gently, eyes shining in the low light as you watched him like you knew he was crumbling bit by bit with each pass of your hand over him. Like you knew you had him without truly needing to argue at all. "I just can't wait any longer–please–"
And then you were rising to hover over him, working at his pants whilst he instinctively lifted his hips until you could pull them down just far enough.
He could feel how ready you were when you settled back over him, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard, flushed heat to flushed heat, and Anakin felt himself twitch at the gorgeous sound that poured from your throat as you rocked hips into his.
It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you moved against him just right and then it was his turn to begin trembling, bucking up until his cock was sliding repeatedly through the mess of your slick, and mouthing wild kisses and obscene praise against your lips.
It had been so long that he couldn't help the way your name tumbled out, the ragged groan that tore its way from his chest alongside it as he snatched up your hair in a tight fist and hauled you tighter into him.
But he could only allow it for a moment more before he was hastily stilling you as the pleasure burned sudden and white-hot, frantically soothing his thumb over your side when you squirmed and whined at the loss of friction.
"I'm not going to last if you keep doing that." Anakin gasped and it was supposed to be chastising, albiet a half-hearted attempt at the most, but he was so far gone that even to his own ears he just sounded beyond desperate. "Let me feel you–please."
He cursed then, a wounded noise catching in his throat, when you knelt up and reached for him–notching him at your entrance before sinking down inch by inch until your hips were flush with his.
And then the the world was tumbling and fracturing until there was no blood-slick cell in a cold and terrible ship. There was no war, no Sith or Jedi and the weight of balancing good and evil in the galaxy.
There was only this– you in his arms and all around him. The overwhelming sense as you clung to each other, wide-eyed and breathless, that it was still so perfect after all this time.
When the intensity of it all started to feel a little too much, when the pleasure spiked too hot too soon and made you gasp at every pulse of him inside you, only then did you begin to move– slow at first and syrupy as molten honey.
Shaky hands tangling in his hair and pressing over his chest, his thumping heart, and each cresting roll of your hips gentle, like you were trying to learn how to move with him again before the memory glowed beneath your skin and made everything feel so suddenly familiar that it nearly wrecked you both right then.
He cradled your jaw as you rode him, swept his thumb reverently over the edge of it and whispered your name, pleasure-drunk and panting, before dragging you into a messy, burning kiss that only dazed you further as he angled his hips to thrust steadier, deeper.
"Anakin–pleasepleaseplease."
There was something insufferably hot beginning to bloat behind his ribs, a swelling pressure of emotion that felt seconds from bursting and shattering his bones, born from too many things he yearned to say but felt undeniably afraid to. Too many promises and declarations building up behind his teeth that Anakin wasn't sure if he had the right to utter.
They slipped out regardless before he could choke them down when you clenched around him, as the sterile, filtered air on the ship turned thick and molten and his soul attempted to ascend his body from the way you touched him, held him.
Pulling him close like you never wanted to let him go, like you could press him back into that place you had carved out for him years ago and keep him there forever.
He would gladly let you.
"I'm yours–I always have been." He confessed against your mouth, voice cracking as he felt the shudder of your chest against his own. "Even when I left–even through everything I did– I've always been yours. Never anyone elses."
"I know." You whimpered, gaze shining. "A part of me always knew. I could feel it– feel you."
Everything was simultaneously too much and not enough. He felt delirious, desperate, like that acknowledgement of the bond between you had made it flare all the more savagely until every touch, every movement you both made, teetered upon the line of pleasure and pain. Of a bliss so intensely overwhelming it would ruin him entirely if he didn't pull away.
But Anakin needed to be closer. He needed to be pressed up against every inch of you and inside you anyway, every way, he could be, lest the longing that had nestled beneath his skin from the moment he met you suffocate him entirely.
It made you gasp when a strong arm wound it way across your back, the muscles of your thighs tensing as they clamped around his waist when he slid deeper and punched against something urgent and sharp. Making you pant into his mouth whilst needy fingers raked down your spine until he was pressing against the dip at the base to lock you into his lap.
"Oh fuck–" You sobbed at the slow, demanding grind of his hips. "Anakin–"
"I'm never going to leave you again." He murmured, pace stuttering a little whilst you fluttered around him, growing closer and closer and pulling him helplessly with you. Shaking with the restraint it took to make sure he didn't accidentally grip your face to tight with his other hand as he shoved his forhead against yours.
"M'yours and I'll spend my life proving it, making everything up to you. Just–fuck– come for me first."
You did.
You fell apart only seconds later with a noise so beautiful that he couldn't resist the frantic urge to lick it from your mouth, to drink it down and let it bloom heady and bright in the hollowness between his ribs. Trembling in his arms as he gathered you up against his chest and followed you with a wrecked groan that made you smile a soft kind of smug against his lips.
You held him tenderly as he regained the consciousness you had so easily stolen, fingers brushing over his hair, the broad sweep of his shoulders and down over his back and when his eyes slowly blinked back open, dazed, the sight of you was nearly enough to break his heart.
Because for the first time since you had stepped foot on his ship and met his disbelieving stare, you were completely unguarded. Gaze warm and shining, more trustful than it had been, letting him glimpse your fear and your determination, your grief, your love.
It was a look that Anakin had missed so vehemently that it briefly rendered him incapable of nothing more than drawing in a weak, shuddering breath, the ache in his chest growing so severe that his eyes burned and stung with the tell-tale threat of tears.
He kissed you again before they could fall, a lovely, desperate thing, brimming with apology and so much devotion that you melted into him. Glowing from it as you laughed quietly and breathed his name. "Stop kissing me for a second– we need a plan."
The sound of that laugh made something in him spark, made it fizz with a hope that he swore he hadn't felt in such a long time that he was suddenly dizzy with it. The first trembling hint of a real smile gracing his lips as they part from yours.
"I have a plan." He murmured, looking at you innocently when your eyes narrowed in that judging way he was so familiar with because you always knew his plans could be a little…farfetched. "First, I get you out of here, I'll sneak you into my fighter and take you somewhere safe. Somewhere I can take care of you until you recover your strength."
"And then?"
Anakin grinned. "And then we come back and we kill Palpatine."
Anon Request: 26, 27, and 28 for Anakin and reader.
26 - brushing a kiss along the shell of the other person’s ear
27 - kisses exchanged while 1 person sits on the other’s lap
28 - one person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss
Author’s Note: Although Anakin has top energy, it is my firm belief that this boy is a BOTTOM. Like we all know Padme was the one who wore pants in the relationship, Ani is too whiny. Also takes place during the Clone Wars.
Author’s Note 2.0: This might be a bit short, I’m sorry 😔; also I hope this is good, I SUCK at writing smut lmao
Warnings: SMUT under cut, 18+, Oral Sex (male receiving)
You jumped in your kitchen when a loud thud echoed through your otherwise quiet quarters. Feeling the anger through the force, you peeked your head out of the doorway and saw Anakin sulking into your room.
“Ani? What’s wrong?” You asked quietly as he plopped down in one of your chairs, running a hand through his hair.
“Obi-Wan has been on my case all day and then Ahsoka kept on inquiring about us,” he stated as you moved in between his legs and massaged his scalp, trying to relieve some of the stress that had acquired throughout the day.
“How can I help?” You asked as he spread his legs and leaned backwards, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.
“I don’t know,” he muttered as an idea popped in your head, causing a small smirk to spread across your lips. Gently climbing into his lap, he looked up at you with a curiosity in his eyes.
Anon Request: Anakin and Luke having chubby girlfriends
Author’s Note: UWU. As someone who is semi-chubby I am in love with this request, thank you sm <3
Warnings: Insecurities
ANAKIN WITH A CHUBBY GF HC:
He loves you with everything in his being. He loves your height, your weight, your hair color, your eye color, everything.
When he found out you were insecure about your weight (you were casting a negative persona when staring at yourself in the mirror and he picked up on it) he confronted you about it and asked you gently.
You told him everything about your insecurities and he sat there and listened while holding your hand.
After the little session, he ran you a nice bath and cuddled you until you felt better.
After that, whenever he got the negative feelings you were feeling, he would pull you aside and shower you with affection, assuring that you were the most beautiful person he knows.
After a while, you got used to your extra weight and began to love it, as he did (although he never minded in the first place).
He loves to sleep on you as you make a warm cushion for him to lay on.
He loves when he wraps his arms around you and snuggles into you, you find it adorable.
LUKE WITH A CHUBBY GF HC
He loves hugging you.
No matter where you two go, he will always find a way to hug you.
You are basically a heater during their time on Hoth, he loves to wrap himself over you as you stroke his hair and smile at him.
He found out that you were insecure about your body when he found you crying in the cafeteria.
After that day, he would always make sure that you know you are beautiful and how much he loves you.
He loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his jumper, he loves the way that you fill it out.
Don’t get him started on your curves, he is obsessed with them, especially when the two of you are intimate.
If he ever heard someone talk negatively about you, he would make sure that they were kicked off the next mission.
He loves you for who you are and he would not change it one bit.
Author’s Note: I wrote this based on your request but I also added some of the things that would make me feel better if they were my BF. Hope you enjoy <3
anakin who's soso sweet and gentle all while having you folded absolutely gutting your insides out 😕😕😕 !! he's soo attentive and understanding cus that's his baby !!!!
warnings: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, intense dom!anakin, mention of belly bulge/fullness, tears & overwhelmed crying from pleasure, praise, rough but gentle dynamic (he’s careful but still fucks her deep), overstimulation, established relationship.
you’re soft under his hands, bare skin warm as your breath trembles out your chest. he looks at you for a second, dark eyes warm and wanting all at once.
he’s gathered you up gently, your knees folded up toward your chest, so pliant it almost hurts. he’s careful, but he isn’t shy about it: the stretch burning in that dizzy, perfect way, your chest arching up into him— he’s nestled so deep inside it steals the words right off your tongue.
“you’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he grits, voice full of that aching intensity only he could carry. he braces his gloved hand against the mattress— the other, warm and calloused, ghosting over your cheek.
it spills a trembling sound from your lips, your nails digging uselessly into the hard muscle of his shoulders. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t stop, just keeps you there: folded open, your body twitching under the weight of him.
the length and thickness of him sinks through you — the drag of every thrust giving your belly the faintest swell each time he bottoms himself out.
“do you see that, my love?” his voice roughens, almost hushed, like he can barely believe it himself. “how full you are… stars…”
your lashes dampen with tears, breath catching in little sobs that melt into moans. it knocks something raw from your chest — a half formed “a‑ani…” whimper when his hips roll deeper, itching a spot inside that makes your vision blur.
he leans closer, forehead nearly touching yours, curls damp at his temple. “too much?” he whispers, so close you feel the words against your mouth. his forehead almost rests on yours, sweat beading at the hollow of his throat. even asking, he doesn’t quite stop — hips still pushing himself slow and deep.
you shake your head, barely — your voice catching in your throat. his thumb brushes your cheek again, softer than anything, and you swear you could cry from it alone.
“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, voice breaking gentle and low. his hand traces down, fingers pressing light against your belly, feeling the way he’s filling you so deep it aches. “taking me so well…”
he watches it all, gaze dark and warm, so full it makes your heart feel too big in your chest.
and the way he keeps you folded, so careful even when it’s overwhelming, makes you feel breakable in the sweetest way — like he’d die before letting you slip away.
“my sweet love,” he rasps again, hips rolling deeper, your breath hitching sharp. “always so good for me… always…”
it lingers like that— your heartbeat skittering under his touch, everything else falling quiet around the steady, aching closeness. and in that hush, it feels like he could keep you right there forever… ♡
I know it’s a classic trope, but I’ve always wanted to draw Sebastian swooping in to save a Muggle-born OC from bullies, so I’m really glad I finally got to do it.
Hopefully I can share the continuation soon🔥
@clairese1980 I am such a bad person for taking so bloody long on this one! I am super sorry, but I hope it’s to your liking? I’ll be in my corner of shame if anyone needs me
Baba:
Baba was beyond livid. His expression was doing nothing at all to mask his frustration as he paced the penthouse suite.
“We’re going to find her, Baba,” Eisuke spoke, his phone still pressed to his ear, “they’re tracking her phone now.”
“I still should have been able to protect her. I was right there!” he fumed, his hand clenching at his side.
“Stop beatin’ yourself up,” Mamoru added, “save it for when we find the kid.”
All the guys were helping to try and find you after you had been forced into a van in front of the hotel just far enough from Baba that he couldn’t get to you in time.
His jaw tightened as he replayed it over again in his mind.
“Got something,” Soryu said, reading a text from his phone, “one of the boys saw the van near a motel not far from here. These guys must be stupid.”
Baba reached for his hat just as his own phone let out a tune.
“That’s her ringtone,” he cried, answering immediately.
“Hello? ______?”
There was a tongue click before the voice spoke.
“So that’s what you call her. I see. I was wondering if you used the same pet names for her that you did for me.”
Baba’s blood froze when he heard the woman’s taunting voice in his ear. He could almost place it to a face, but not quite.
“What have you done with her?”
“Oh? Would you like to see? She and I are in our old motel room Micchi, so come play.”
The click in his ear had him staring at the phone as he wracked his brain. Damn, who would have thought it was a jealous woman?
“Sor, what motel was that?”
As soon as Soryu told him the name, Baba remembered exactly which girl it was. She had been long before he’d met you, and she was beautiful; stunning. Gorgeous. And apparently bitter and psychotic.
Once she had begun to threaten her life and his own, he’d cut his ties, but now she’d retaliated.
“Baba, wait!” Ota shouted after Baba took off in a full speed sprint.
***********
After reaching the motel, Baba snuck up to the room quietly using the fire escape. Silently, he moved closer to the window, peering in through the blinds.
Inside, he found you tied to a chair, your head slumped forward and your face covered in bruises and gashes. Standing just in front of you was the crazy ex he’d feared, looking down at you in disgust. Her voice was slightly muffled through the glass, but as Baba slipped the window open ever so gently, he caught some of her words.
“…..doesn’t even love you enough to come save you. Let’s just stop wasting time and end this now.”
As the woman revealed a gun, Baba threw himself inside, surprising her.
“______!” he shouted, his eyes focused only on you.
He saw you lift your head ever so slightly and your lips twitched in relief when you realized he was there.
“….Baba,” you sighed quietly.
“No!” The other woman fumed, “you love me Micchi. Me. She’s just in our way. But I’ll fix that.”
With a crooked smile, she stared at Baba as the gun pointed once again to you and she fired without hesitation.
Your body jerked as the sick sound of the bullet entered your chest and your eyes glued to his.
“NO!” he screamed, his body thrusting forward to grab you. In the distance, a door slammed open behind him and Baba heard Kishi’s voice somehow, but he was too busy untying you and laying your body on the floor. There was so much blood as it soaked into your shirt and coated his hands as he put pressure on the wound.
“Hold on princess, we’re going to get you to the hospital and it’ll be okay.”
Your gaze was half lidded and unfocused, but he could see your lips moving as you attempted to speak.
“…..Ba……ba……love…..you…..”
Your gurgled words were barely audible, but he heard enough that it broke him.
“No, no, no, stay with me!”
***********
It had been six days since then, and you now lay in a hospital bed in a coma, with no signs of coming around anytime soon. And yet Baba sat there, everyday without fail, reading to you and talking to you, holding your hand and brushing your hair gently.
The others would come and stop by to see if there were any changes, but Baba would always give them a small smile and respond that you would wake up soon.
It wasn’t until they would leave once again that his smile would falter and his eyes would darken as they fell to your immobile form. His grip on your hand would tighten ever so slightly and tremble as every day that you didn’t stir only sunk him deeper into the growing fear that you might never open your eyes again.
“Please come back to me soon honey. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
He lowered his head to rest upon your joined hands and fought back the tears, when he had the sudden sensation of someone touching his hair. Straightening up, Baba felt a surge of happiness at the sight of your eyes slowly opening as your other hand fell from his head.
“….I felt like I was lost,” you whispered hoarsely, “but I heard you.”
“I am never letting go of this hand again,” he swore, a brilliant smile cutting across his face as he kissed the back of your hand.
Soryu:
Whether everything had happened in a matter of minutes or seconds wasn’t completely clear, but to see you be abducted right before his eyes was enough to cause Soryu’s composure to combust into a flurry of seething rage. His phone was in his hand immediately as he called the rest of the guys to tell them of what had transpired and bark out commands to assist in locating you. Not one of them argued, simply doing as asked. When it came to you, they were all fairly protective, so he knew they would help.
The drive back to the hotel was filled with more phone calls and directive texts, as well as an unbound anger that swarmed around him. He strode directly to the penthouse lounge, receiving either no answers or negative replies that only served to increase his displeasure.
After a seemingly long time, a tone sounded from his pocket, signalling that he had an incoming phone call.
He answered, only to be interrupted by a taunting tone from the other side.
“Haven’t you found me yet? And here I thought by taking your woman, you’d be a little more inspired to locate me so as to negotiate her release.”
Instantly, he knew who had kidnapped you and why, as well as a fairly good idea of where you were.
His grip on the phone tightened as he felt the last of his temper snap.
“I’m coming for you,” he growled as he stormed from the hotel, “you had better hope that you haven’t harm a single hair on her.”
A laugh pierced his ear just before the other party hung up on him.
***********
After immediate calls to the rest of the Ice Dragons, Soryu led the way to a location they’d been looking into as a rival mafia’s headquarters. Up until now, there had been no reason to confront them, but taking you was beyond crossing the line. Soryu had no intention of letting things slide.
Orders were given and the Dragons split up, covering their designated entrances, with Soryu leading the way inside.
Door burst open and shots filled the air as Soryu led the way from room to room in his search for you. He moved with purpose swiftly up the stairs to a set of double doors, which he delivered a hard kick to and forced them open.
Immediately inside the room was you, kneeling on the ground, as the male leader held you by the hair with a gun aimed at you.
The man grinned maliciously at Soryu, even as he pointed his weapon at the man.
“I was wondering if you’d ever acknowledge us as a threat, and now you finally have! I suggest you lower your gun if you don’t want her brains splattered across the floor.”
“If I drop my gun, you’ll shoot her anyway,” Soryu countered, never wavering in his aim.
“Hmm, good point!” he cackled with a barking laugh.
Behind the man, one of the other Dragons had snuck up on him and took aim. The shot rang out, tearing through his shoulder.
“Get over here!” Soryu shouted, running towards you. You scrambled to your feet, clumsily trying to run, but behind you, the other man managed to fire off a round from his gun.
Soryu’s eyes widen as he watched your eyes widen and your form collapse to the floor as the bullet pierced your abdomen.
More shots sounded around him, but Soryu focused solely on you as he scooped you up into his arms, the immeasurable flow of blood soaking both your clothes making him fear for your life.
***********
Five days.
Five days he’d been sitting beside your bed, not daring to move until somebody gave him the news he wanted to hear. You had been unconscious when they got you to the hospital, and hadn’t come around yet. One doctor had said you were in a coma, and there was no telling when you’d wake up.
The guys would check in every day to ask how you were doing, but the look on Soryu’s face was still the same; dark and grim.
He stood now blankly inspecting some of the flowers that the boys had sent for you, this one vase in particular with a signed card from Inui and Samejima. The room was full of flowers and cards, all praying for your recovery, but in his heart, Soryu was terrified. Terrified that you’d never wake up, that he’d never again see your gentle smile or feel your loving embrace.
He crushed one of the roses in his hand in his frustration, only to feel the bite of the thorns. With a tired sigh, he disposed of the flower in the trash, about to move wipe his hand clean when a sound stopped him.
“….Soryu? What happened….to your hand?”
He spun to face you, not fully sure if he had simply imagined your voice. But you blinked slowly at him, concern marring your features as you gazed back at him. He was on you in a heartbeat, his strong arms wrapped around you tightly.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you,” he apologized, “but I am never letting you it of my sight again.”
Ota:
After the first hour of you being late, he was annoyed. But as the second hour passed and there was still no sign of you, his irritation turned to worry. He just spoken to you that morning, and the two of you made plans to meet after you were done work, but you hadn’t come up to his suite yet. He was entering the penthouse now, wondering if you’d perhaps gotten confused and come up here by mistake.
All four bidders looked at Ota when he entered, saw him scan the room and his shoulders dropped.
“She’s not up here either? Where the hell is she?”
“Loose your pet Ota?” Eisuke smirked.
“Any other time, I’d joke, but she’s two hours late,” Ota frowned.
Eisuke took out his phone and made a call, ending it abruptly.
“She never finished her shift,” he stated, his tone no longer mocking.
Ota felt his heart drop inside his chest. He was just about to speak when a knock sounded on the door.
“Ota? Are you in here?”
“There’s the brat now,” Kishi muttered as a woman entered the room.
At first, they all seemed to relax, until she entered completely and found it wasn’t you.
“Who are you?” Eisuke demanded, glaring that the strange woman.
“What do you mean? It’s me, Ota’s girlfriend.”
She skipped over to Ota, batting her lashes at him.
“Did you miss me?”
Ota shoved the woman away, causing her to fall to the floor.
“Where the hell is my Koro?”
“Ouch Ota, why did you push me? That’s not nice.”
He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her upright as the other bidders moved to surround the stranger.
“She’s wearing a hotel uniform boss,” Baba commented.
Ota’s eyes widen as he tore away the staff ID from her.
It was yours.
As were the clothes she was wearing, along with the shoes and the necklace he’d designed only for you.
“What have you done with her?!”
***********
Ota was storming down a hallway as the others were checking surveillance tapes.
“Got her!” came Baba’s voice, “she came out of a room at the end of the next hallway. Boss says someone’s on their way up with a key now.”
“Like I have time to wait for that!” Ota hollered, hanging up his phone.
Her reached the door and kicked it twice before it flew open. He shouted your name as he stormed inside, but found no sign of you. He moved to the bathroom where he found a catastrophe of cosmetic and hair products, with a full frontal picture of you taped to the mirror. The bathtub was covered in a mess of hair dye and chunks of hair that matched your own, and Ota got a sick feeling in his stomach.
He backed out slowly, fumbling for his phone as it sounded from his pocket. He’d been just about to answer when a noise from the closet across the room drew his attention.
Cautiously, he pulled open the doors and let out a cry when he found you inside, gagged, hands tied behind your back, a large gash across your forehead, and several patches of hair were messily chopped from your head. Your eyes spilt tears of relief as Ota pulled you out and brought you to the bed.
“I’m so glad I found you,” he said, moving behind you to work on the knots.
Unbeknownst to him, the woman had escaped and was now standing in the shattered doorway, a gun aimed at the artist.
“If you won’t love me, I won’t let you live!” she cried out as she pulled the trigger.
You moved automatically, throwing yourself on to Ota, the force sending you both to the floor.
Pulling himself up, Ota shouted your name as he discovered you’d taken the bullet for him, your blood now pooling from the hole in your back over the two of you. Your eyes teared up as the pain became too much and Ota screaming at you to stay awake was the last thing you heard.
***********
The early light of dawn stabbed at Ota’s eyes as he woke up, still in your hospital room after the incident from six days ago. His head and body ached as he lifted himself from the chair he’d been sleeping in beside your bed, moving to kneel beside your bed to see if there was any change in your situation.
The others hadn’t been far behind and had managed to detain the woman once more, who turned out to be an art student who’d been at one of his guest lectures. She had become obsessed to the point that she stalked both him and you, studying every aspect of your life until she had determined she would simply become you.
Unfortunately, when you protected him, you’d been wounded fairly badly. An emergency surgery had been necessary and they had managed to recover the bullet and repair the damage, but now you were stuck in a immeasurable coma. The doctors had said it could be days, weeks, or years before you came around, and even then, there was no way to tell what kind of permanent damage could have happened.
Swallowing thickly past the lump in his throat, Ota gripped your hand tightly in his, pleading silently for you to wake up.
For the rest of his life, he would never forget that horrifying shade of red as your blood has seeped into his hands and it made him tremble.
Then he felt your fingers flex around his own. He raised his head up, overjoyed as he watched your head shift on the pillow and your eyelids rose just enough to meet his own.
“You’re finally awake. What a good girl you are, to come back to me. That is the last time I let you go anywhere without your master.”
Mamoru:
Mamoru had gone out to grab some lunch nearby as he was finally on his lunch break. He clicked his tongue in disappointment as he ate, upset by the fact he’d forgotten his handmade lunch from you at home. He could almost imagine the delicious flavours of your food. Now the food that usually tasted so good to him was barely passable as he ate it begrudgingly.
On the table beside him, his phone screen lit up, signalling an incoming call. He glanced at the ID wondering who was calling. He furrowed his brow, seeing your name pop up on the screen.
“Hey kid,”‘he greeted, swallowing the chunk of food he’d been spitefully chewing.
“Hello Mamo,” came your cheerful response, “I’m down in reception. You forgot your lunch, so I thought I’d bring it by for you. Do you want me to bring it up?”
“Naw, that’s fine,” he declined,wiping his mouth, “I was out of the office, but I’m heading back now. I’ll just come to you.”
No way was he going to waste time on this when he had you and food waiting for him.
“Oh okay. I’ll wait down here then-”
The sound of shouting and gunshots and screaming cut you off and Mamoru felt his heart leap in shock.
“Hey, what was that? You alright kid?! Answer me!”
There was a muffled sound as your phone was shuffled around, then he heard a voice on the other end.
“Hello? Is this Detective Kishi?”
“Who the hell is this?”
“Oh just another nobody that you’ve wrongly screwed over. You probably wouldn’t even recognize my face, but I imagine once you get here, you’ll be able to find me. I’ll be the one with a gun pointed at your pretty little girlfriends’ head. Well, that is if she’s even alive.”
Mamoru didn’t wait for the click before he’d already taken off into a full scale run.
***********
Upon arriving, Mamoru found a large crowd gathered in front of the building, made up of other officers, random pedestrians, and a few news crews.
He pushed his way through the throng of people, shoving anyone who ended up in his way. He’d called the other bidders on his way over, but with the mass out there, he doubted they’d be much help.
“Kishi!”
He stopped near the entrance to see one of the other detectives waving him down.
“What the hell is happening?” Mamoru demanded.
“A bunch of guys come through the doors and started firing blindly, took a couple hostages and had the lower floor evacuate the building. The other floors are on stand by, but these guys haven’t made any demands yet.”
Mamoru grunted as he glared at the front doors, which were no doubt being guarded, when his phone rang with your name on the display again.
“Ah, good, you’ve made it here,” the same taunting voice resounded in his ear. He growled in anger, only earning him a scornful laugh.
“I see, so this has really gotten under your skin, has it? Well, unlike you, I don’t enjoy making people suffer for long, so I’m going to speed things up and put this all to an end. You see detective Kishi, the whole point of this was to simply get to you. And what better way to ruin your life than to take away the one thing you love? If you want to come inside and say goodbye, I’ll let you.”
One of the doors clicked as it was pushed slightly ajar. An armed man jerked his head towards Mamoru.
He barely caught the text from Soryu saying the Dragons were coming in the back, and Mamoru prayed that he could keep this guy busy long enough.
Stepping inside, the door closed behind him and he was immediately greeted with the sight of you, barely conscious, a man he didn’t recognize holding you up with a hand around your throat.
“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” the man asked, a sick smile on his face.
Mamoru stood silent, staring intently at you.
“Well, as I promised, here she is, so say goodbye!”
The man shifted the gun to press into your stomach, then pulled the trigger in a rapid procession before dropping you to the ground.
“Shit!”
***********
A full week had passed since the hostage situation. Soryu’s men had stormed in moments after you’d been shot, taking out the armed men and disappearing just as quickly. The other hostages had escaped immediately, followed by officers rushing inside to assist, but he’d been too focused on you. There’d been so much blood and you hadn’t responded as he’d taken you in his arms.
Now he was propped up by the window, blowing a stream of smoke outside as you lay in a coma and showing no signs of coming to.
The guys had stopped in daily, as had some of his co-workers. All offered their own words of comfort or condolence, but he tuned each one out.
Mamoru ran a hand down his face, his mind a complete mess. He couldn’t loose you, he just couldn’t. Without you, there was no point for him to go on.
“Mamo…”
He spun quickly to find a tiny smile touching your lips as you attempted to lift your hand and reach for him. He bypassed your hand completely to come and cup the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together. He gazed deeply into your eyes before speaking.
“Geez sweetheart, you took years off my life. I swear to God if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I ain’t gonna forgive you.”
Eisuke:
Behind his desk, Eisuke shuffled more money around his empire, turning millions into billions in mere seconds, signing deal after deal, and setting up work for the next auction. The entire thing was nothing more than a giant game to him, and he was always the king.
But even kings needed their coffee, and he changed his screens over on the computer to check the hotel surveillance and find you. It took him a few minutes before he managed to spot you, only to be confused by your actions. You were in the main lobby, appearing to be heading for the front doors along with a man who was far too close to you for Eisuke’s liking.
He didn’t know who this guy thought he was, but it would not be going any further than this. He dialled your pager and watched, stunned when you didn’t even reach for it. It was when the man beside you reached for the device and threw it into a nearby plant that Eisuke noticed the metal object in his hand that was being shoved into your rib cage as you were forced from the hotel and into a car parked out front.
“Damnit,” he cursed, dialling Soryu right away.
“Soryu, I’ve got a live feed of someone kidnapping my woman, and my security didn’t stop it. You and your boys better find her, and send that useless detective up here now!”
***********
Within an hour, Eisuke strode into a depleted old building after they had tracked the license plate number and got a facial recognition off the man who’d taken you. It wasn’t difficult to find things with the right help.
“Haha, I knew it wouldn’t be long before you found your way here!” a man laughed as Eisuke burst into the room. Eisuke knew exactly who the man was now, but had no intention of playing games with the idiot.
“Return the woman and I won’t kill you,” Eisuke growled warningly.
“Mr. Ichinomiya, I believe that I am the one with the upper hand now. You see, falling from grace has gifted me with many new things, including new friends. Friends that have no problem doing some dirty work for the right amount of money.
With a snap of his fingers, two men entered the room, dragging a body behind them which they threw at the man’s feet.
He hauled the form up, only for Eisuke to realize it was you. Your face was bruised and swollen, and a trail of blood came from a cut in your lip. One eye was bruised and barely open, while the other was overflowing with tears.
“Eisuke!” you sobbed, trying to reach for him, only to be roughly jerked backwards.
“This is how you conduct your business deals?” Eisuke sneered, “I’m glad we didn’t accept the contract with you now.”
While he made his snide remarks, inside Eisuke was on fire. How dare this pathetic excuse of a man dare to touch his woman! Soryu and Mamoru were close, and Eisuke subtly pressed a button on the device he’d snuck in, signalling them to his location.
“It’s because of you that I no longer have a business!” the man screamed, his eyes crazy with anger. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still have my family, my home, and all that money! But you refused to work with me, and it destroyed my reputation!”
The sound of a door being swung open filled the room, and the man spun his gaze to look to his side. Both Soryu and Mamoru had their eye trained on him, and he began to panic.
“It’s not going to tend like this! I’ll come out on top!”
And with that, the man pulled out a gun and got one round off before the two men took their own shots.
“Damnit!” Eisuke yelled, rushing to catch your falling body as your hands clutched vainly at your wound.
***********
It was nearing midnight on the sixth night of you being in a coma. Eisuke flat out refused to leave your side, demanding more doctors, better doctors, to come and give him a different diagnosis.
“Eisuke, that’s been ten different medical professionals you’ve had shipped in from all over, and every one has said the same thing.”
He glared at Soryu, not wanting to hear from his friend at the moment.
“Hey come on now,” Baba interjected, trying to calm the two men, “this is no place to be doing this. I’m sure that she’s going to wake up any day now, right boss?”
Eisuke’s sharp gaze turned to Baba, his eyes lit with rage.
“As if that’s even worth asking. She damn well will.”
He turned his back on the other four to pull out his phone as Baba gulped audibly.
“C'mon, we can come by tomorrow,” he heard Mamoru say, then the sound of the door opening and closing signalled their departure.
After another brief phone call with still no answers, Eisuke moved to the chair beside your bed and sat down, allowing his head to fall back and his eyes to close for a moment.
Not that he would ever admit it to the rest of them, but having you in such a state and not being able to do anything was tearing at his entire being. Every doctor telling him that there was nothing to do but wait was infuriating. All he wanted was for you to come back.
Eisuke stood back up and leaned over you, bracing an arm on each side of your sleeping head.
“I don’t care what they’ve said, I did not give you permission to leave me. So if you love me and want to keep me happy, you had better wake up pretty damn quickly.”
He stared down at you unblinkingly, and to his utter amazement, your eyes began to flutter open ever so slowly.
“E-Eisuke?” you whispered.
He smirked down at you, his heart secretly thumping with relief.
“That’s my woman. You’ll be lucky if I ever let you out of my bedroom again.”
Sebastian x Sakurako – Chapter 4-2 (Previous episode is here.)
I love situations where a normally sly, quick-witted, silver-tongued man suddenly struggles to find the right words in front of the girl he cares about as more than a friend… and becomes hesitant because he doesn’t want to say anything careless to her.
Ominis is usually the type who wouldn’t get too affectionate in public, but I think it would be absolutely adorable if, when he’s sleepy, his judgement gets a little dull and he accidentally ends up snuggling up to his lover anyway.
Summary: Hello there! May the forth be with you. Reader is Padmé's sister. When Anakin has turned to the dark side, he and the empire demand your hand. You are against it, clearly having no say in it as Anakin demands it. Numerous times you try to run from him, arguing, cursing and hating him. Anakin claims you as his wife no matter what. One night you ask Anakin what made him turn to the dark side, feeling empathy for him once you finally understand it a bit more.
There was no denying the sudden shift in the galaxy. Jedi’s were falling and the Sith were taking over. Naboo wasn’t a place you could stay anymore. In a rushed way, you were packing your things. Throwing some dresses in a bag, knowing your sister would be waiting for you in half an hour at the secret passage. She needed a lot of convincing to leave Naboo. Being to headstrong into not wanting to leave the people.
But for now going in hiding would be the best solution. Surely against the empire. Panting loud, you hurried through your room to collect the most important things you needed. Half-way from where your bed was with the bag, suddenly opened your door. It made you freeze with panic, staring with wide eyes as men entered your room. They parted making way for Anakin Skywalker in all black.
“Anakin?” - you said confused. Anakin noticed the bag on your bag, making him glare your way. – “Seize her!” – he ordered. His order made you drop your item as the men rushed over to you. Each grabbing you by the arm. – “Anakin what is going on?” – you called out, scribbling against their grip.
Anakin approached you. A darker vibe surrounding him as you sensed it. The way he approached you seeming nothing like he was before. The men pulled at you, pushing you forwards to him. Anakin gave you a sweet smile, hands folded before him. Utterly confused and wary, you didn’t know what to expect.
“Are you going somewhere?” – he asked tilting his head back to look at the bag on your bed. – “What is it to you?” – you bit back. If it weren’t for the other men in the room, you might have reacted different. Yet the way he ordered them to handle you, had upset you too much.
Anakin chuckled humorously bringing one finger up to his lips. – “You are right Naboo isn’t save for you anymore.” – he said looking down at you. The tone in his voice made you swallow nervously. – “You’d be much saver with me.” – he added moving a bit more casual.
It made you furrow your brows as he moved his hand towards you, grabbing you by your chin. – “Marry me.” – he let out as your eyes widened in shock. You tore your face away to release his grip on you. – “Not a chance!” – you fired back. There had clearly something changed about him and you didn’t like one bit of it. Anakin inhaled sharp through his nose, grabbing your chin by force now. Wanting you to look him in the eye. – “That wasn’t a request!” – he made clear that you had no choice in it.
His gaze stern and colder than you had ever seen. Anakin tilted his chin up, looking down on you with a certain ego around him. – “Take her away!” – he ordered his men pushing your face to the side as he let go of you. The men he was with dragged you around him out of the door. – “No!” – you cried out, trying to fight them off. Leaning back and pulling at your arms to get them off you. They were strong as they kept their grip on you.
Looking over your shoulder, you stared at Anakin and the bag on your bed. Tears swelling up as you knew you’d never meet up with your sister Padmé now. Anakin watched you leave with a stern look, hands behind his back. – “Anakin please!” – you begged one last time before they pulled you out of your room, around the corner and out of sight.
You got dragged outside to a craft ship. – “No, no please… Padmé.” – you breathed out looking back as your sister would be waiting for you now. Not knowing what is happening to you. – “Princess!” – two guards came running outside having seen what was happening. The men that were holding you, stopped and turned you around to your guards. – “Release her at once.” – one of the guards called out. – “We will give the empire everything, but not our princess.” – the second one begged dropping to his knees.
You looked at the men holding you with panic. – “You have no right to take her!” – the first one remained determined and guarding. The second guard more beggingly. The hearing of a lightsaber getting active made you gasp loud. The red illuminating in the darkness behind them. The guard on his knees got up startled. The other one jumped frightened back. Your eyes widened with fear as Anakin emerged from the dark, swaying the red lightsaber around. The guards having no chance as they got killed.
Now it was clear as day that the Anakin you knew was gone. The dark side had claimed him as he was one of them now. – “Nooo!” – you cried sinking to your knees. Anakin got up, walking up to you with his lightsaber still in hand. He reached his hand out to you, making you sway your head aside, not wanting his touch on you. Anakin managed to place his gloved hand against your cheek, making you shiver out a breath. He smiled softly. – “I will never harm you Y/n.” – he spoke with politeness. – “You have my word for it.”
With a simple nod of him, his men pulled you up and dragged you onto the ship. The platform shut behind Anakin as he left Naboo for what it was. Needing nothing more of it. Certainly not now that he had what he wanted. What he had always wanted. You. The ship left, going into unknown galaxies for you. The men had knotted your hands together behind your back. Anakin came over once they flew in open space.
“I told them it wasn’t necessary.” – he said, kneeling down before you. – “The cuffs.” – he pointed at you, sounding a bit like his old self. – “They wouldn’t listen, but I know you Y/n.” – he added leaning over your shoulder to reach the cuffs. You heard the cuffs come off as Anakin came in sight again, smiling. The second your hands were free, you punched him against his cheek. Anakin groaned in pain, taking a second to recover.
He grabbed your shoulders with violence, pressing his fingers deep into your skin. You could see the anger in his eyes. Seeing how dominant it was. For a moment, you were truly terrified of him. Not knowing what he would do to you. Anakin then breathed out a laugh, catching you off guard. He took the cuffs again, securing your hands together in front of you.
Anakin got up, leaving your side once more. Lowering your head, there was no denying it anymore. You had no where to run. The ship boarded a floating base in the galaxy. The death star they called it. The guard pushed you forwards, being just a step behind Anakin. Your eyes wide with horror at the hundreds no thousands of stormtroopers on the platform.
You didn’t want to know how many of them roaming this place. There seemed to be little attention for you. Generals bowed their heads when Anakin walked past them. He came to a stop before a room as the door swished open. Anakin took you from the soldier by pressing his hand on your lower back. Pushing you into the room. – “Clean up, our wedding will be tonight.” – he said. You turned angered back at him.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” – you called out. – “No.” – Anakin answered cheeky. – “I hate you!” – you shouted punching your tied up hands against his chest. Anakin barely flinched. Only chuckling amusingly at your silly attempts. He took a step back, letting the door swish shut before him. Once he had left, you gasped when the cuffs fell to the ground.
There was a dress left out for you as you stormed over to it. Grabbed it and threw it on the floor. There was no way you would satisfy him with the pleasure of seeing you dolled up for him. You didn’t know how long you waited, but your door opened once more. A stormtrooper entering your room. – “Princess.” – he addressed you. – “You are coming with me.” – he said. You inhaled deep, chin up with pride as you walked up to him.
He had his blaster at his side as you eyed it. Once you were with him, he moved a bit aside to let you pass first. You stomped your foot on his, grabbing his blaster as you used the end to punch it against his armour. The stormtrooper grunted as he doubled over. Throwing the blaster away, you ran out of the room.
Not caring to where, you just needed to get out. Panting loud, you looked over your shoulder to see if he was following you. There rounded a curve as you ran to follow it, suddenly bumping into someone when you looked back to the front. A firm grip settling on your arm. Gasping loud, you looked up to Anakin, shaking his head. His gaze went down your clothing, seeing you hadn’t changed.
“No matter, you are beautiful anyways Y/n.” – he said making you scoff. – “You are delusional if you think I will marry you!” – you called out wanting his grip to be off you. Anakin chuckled. – “We’ll see Y/n… we’ll see.” – he breathed out pulling you along with him. He dragged you into a room. It was clear he wasn’t going to let you get out of it. So eager to marry you. Anakin walked with you up to the front. – “Charming.” – you responded sarcastically at the wedding view.
The base room with a large glass window overlooking the galaxy. The Sith lord sitting on his throne at the front. The first order standing up straight from behind their panels, saluting. He paused you in front of the Sith lord. You tried your last attempt of running off as Anakin was way ahead of you. He immediately grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back. You weren’t going anywhere.
The Sith lord laughed loud as you elbowed Anakin in the stomach to get him off your back. Anakin grabbed you hard by your arms, turning you to him. – “You will marry me!” – he ordered loud. – “I. would. Rather. Die.” – you answered in a slow pace to deliver your message. Anakin curled up a smile, your taunting only amusing him more. The Sith lord started to conduct the wedding as Anakin kept his grip on you.
“I do.” – Anakin said letting his thumb brush against your cheek. The Sith lord turned to you, waiting for your answer. Anakin stared back at you, ushering you to say the words. – “Asshole.” – you breathed out for only him to hear. – “What was that?” – The Sith lord asked confused. Anakin smiled before squeezing your arms tighter. – “SAY IT!” – he yelled out, forcing you to do so.
“Asshole!” – you repeated louder for everyone to hear. Anakin snapped wrapping his hand around your throat. It made you gasp loud, startled by his sudden violence. – “Say it!” – he asked again gently squeezing your throat as he brought your face closer to his. – “I…I…do…” – you forced with little air. Anakin let go of you, making you grasp for air.
The Sith lord declared you married as Anakin grabbed your chin. Pulling you at him as he soured your lips with his. Kissing you hungrily as you felt the control in his actions. He pulled away, smirking. – “My wife.” – he grinned making you roll your eyes at him. Trying to deny that his kiss might have flustered you. And with that the wedding was over. Married to Anakin that had turned to the dark side.
Ever since the wedding, you could hardly avoid Anakin. He was always there. Confusing you with his actions. Sometimes he was gentle and caring. Other times he was hard and rudely towards you. Acting to you like the master of the puppet that you were. Sometimes you could see his old self slip through. Other days the dark side inside of him took over. Slowly you started to open up to him.
Having always been forced together. You were in the bedroom sitting on the bed. The door swished open as Anakin entered. He walked up to the table, pouring himself a glass of water. – “Anakin may I ask you something?” – you proposed seeing him quirk his eyebrow up. He set the glass back down, coming to lean against the table. – “Of course my star.” – he replied. You shifted nervously on the bed, rubbing your palms together.
Anakin noticed how nervous you were, going over to you. He came sitting with you, taking your hands in his. – “What is it?” – he asked. You took a deep breath before speaking. – “May I know… I want to ask… how… why… why did you join the dark side?” – your words made Anakin tear his gaze away. Almost angered that you dared to ask something like that. You seated yourself better, placing your hands on his shoulders as he had turned his back to you.
“I just want to understand.” – you said shy. You felt his muscles untense under your palms. He slowly turned back to you, making you drop your hands on him. You listened as he explained what drove him to the dark side. Hearing him explain it, gave you a different view of him. Reasons you didn’t think would lead him up to this point. He kept explaining as you started to sympathize with him.
“Anakin I never knew…” – you started taking his hand. – “I finally understand it a bit, not fully, for I cannot. Yet I understand what that feeling is like. Feeling as if you are losing control over everything. Swirling into the despair and doubts. It would make you do everything.” – you continued. Anakin smiled at you, resting his palm against your cheek. Kissing you tenderly for your understanding. For all he ever wanted was to protect you. How didn’t matter, as long as you were his.
This idea just popped into my head & I just had to write it!
Summary: Regulus & Kreacher are in the caves to replace the horcrux. What Regulus doesn’t know is that he would not face his death alone.
“I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more…”
Regulus and Kreacher evaporated at the foot of the cave. Waves crashing against the hard rocks. Splashing gallons of water up. The water was raging. As if it knew what horrors lied in those caves. – “Is master certain?” – Kreacher asked looking up to Regulus. – “Yes!” – Regulus answered. Kreacher looked down, moving his hand up to his master. Regulus took his house-elf’s hand. Kreacher and him evaporated.
"I know it's just a name," she mumbled, "and I could've told it to Sebastian and Anne too, but giving it a name gives it meaning. You've been through it all with me, and I guess... I'm tired of keeping so many secrets, especially from you."
The corner of his lip turned up. "From me?"
"You know everything now. Ain't nothing about me that's secret anymore. Hope that doesn't make me boring."
He stepped closer, eking out the gap between them.
"Boring is the last thing you could ever be."
In the aftermath of the attack on Rookwood Castle, Ominis wakes in Hogwarts – and Tabitha is missing.
Tags: humour/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon divergent, dumbass MC, hijinks and shenanigans, the twins being menaces together, lavish descriptions of food, making promises, breaking promises, relentless clownery at Ominis' expense, hugs, forming a squad, friendship, a crumb of Tabinis?!
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43-44. Punishments | Bonds Forged Together
Ominis was next conscious face-down on a dusty, pavestone floor.
The portal from Rookwood Castle hadn't done what he expected: neither did it reject him, Sebastian and Anne, toss them back into that ruined drawing room and refuse them entry, nor did it take them to the strange, ancient chambers, forcefully yanked across the threshold by Tabitha's hands. Bleary and nauseous from the sensation of being stretched and contracted and stretched again, he raised his trembling wand to assess his surroundings: somewhere isolated but warm and rich in its earthiness, like wood and embers, and spacious, but forgotten in its liminality.
He knew this place, and he knew it well. His body instinctively relaxed.
"What the—?" Sebastian, next to him, braced a palm to sit up. "How the hell did we get to the Hogwarts cellars?"
This particular one was right next to the entrance of Rackham's Map Chamber, and that was surely no coincidence.
Anne let out a shallow groan. "I don't know, but... thank god for it." She tried to roll to her front, but winced. "And thank god... no one's here..."
To that Ominis agreed. He suspected it passively repelled people from entering the vicinity, now that the Map Chamber had revealed its existence down the corridor; no one had discovered, nor indeed thought to explore, beyond the wrought iron gate, impervious to all means of Unlocking charm. Not so long ago Ominis had been ejected to this very same place, and mourned his hopes for a normal year as he waited for Tabitha to finish her duties with Rackham. Strangely it brought him comfort to be here now, away from danger.
The memories wrung him, and suddenly Ominis was on his feet.
"Tabitha? Is she here?"
But his wand answered him: there was only three people tossed haphazardly to the ground. He lunged to the wall and pounded on the beige stone, but it was resolutely solid, an obstacle and nothing else.
"Oh, no." Anne managed to sit up with Sebastian's help. "You think she got left behind?"
"Or sent somewhere else?" Sebastian said darkly.
"She—" is doing the trial alone, again. His stomach lurched violently, relief they had escaped swamped by terror. "She could be hurt – or killed."
"The portrait said he'd lead us to safety... didn't he?" said Anne.
"He was a Rookwood," said her brother, full of bitterness. "Wouldn't surprise me if he tricked her."
"But why would he want to trick her?"
Ominis knew. She possessed that strange magic, able to summon lightning to strike down from the sky. He'd felt the impact of each blow through their bodies as if he'd been struck himself. That was the power she wielded. Vanishing trolls, conjuring portals, it all paled in comparison to what she'd done to save them.
What she'd done to save him.
"She wasn't acting like herself. She addressed the portrait like she was determined to change his mind. She even offered to stay and protect the silver globe." Sebastian's jaw went taut. "What do you know, Ominis?"
Ominis let his hand fall. He didn't dare turn around. Didn't dare let his face give anything away.
"What makes you think I know something?"
"You were arguing outside the shed. We heard you."
"It was nothing."
"Yeah, okay, nothing." He sat against the nearest column of barrels, wheezing. "You and her, in North Ford Bog – that was nothing as well, was it?"
His best friend, the astute observer. Ominis couldn't even fault him for it.
"I can't discuss this now," he said, a firm promise to seal his lips. "You are both injured. We should go to the hospital wing."
"Madam Blainey would ask too many questions," said Sebastian. "I'm fine."
"Your arm is hanging off backwards."
"It's just a flesh wound."
"No," said Anne. Shakily she stood. "No, I... think we should. We can make something up to Blainey." Despite clearly being in pain, her smile was wry. "Come on, Sebastian. Not even you can walk off a broken bone."
By the time Madam Blainey had fed healing concoctions down their throats, Sebastian and Anne's spirits had lightened significantly – although Ominis couldn't tell if they were psychoactive substances rather than painkillers, given how much they were smirking and giggling and making stupid hand signals with twin telepathy. As expected, the school nurse prodded for an explanation, but Sebastian managed to finagle a story about practising duelling too hard north of Feldcroft, and Hogwarts being the closest source of remedial help. It was certainly in-character of him. All the while Ominis paced down the ward, hoping, then praying, then begging the Muggle deities that Tabitha would stroll through the doors unharmed.
After what she'd done already, it wouldn't surprise him if her well was dry. Doing the trial after blasting all those loyalists, and Rookwood...
Eventually Blainey bade Sebastian and Anne to rest until Solomon arrived and left them to themselves, the curtain pulled back between their adjacent wards, although it came with a stern warning that she would also inform the professors of their antics. Ominis welcomed a punishment. It might've distracted him from the torment of not knowing whether Tabitha was safe.
"Stop pacing, Ominis," Anne croaked. Although her curse episode had abated and they were no longer on the brink of being murdered, the pain had left her tired and fragile. "Come sit on the end of my bed."
Not wanting to risk setting her off again, Ominis obeyed. On the other bed, Sebastian had changed into fresh clothes, his arm had been swaddled in bandage, and there was a full glass of Cartilage-Regeneration potion waiting to be consumed. It smelt awful, so it was no wonder he was instead poring through a supply of chocolate he'd made Ominis fetch from the dorms.
"So," Sebastian reclined on the pillow, teeth stained brown, "are you going to tell us the truth about all your secret rendezvouses together?"
Ominis didn't know how he could avoid it now. After antagonising the Rookwood gang, they would all be in danger wherever they went. Hiding secrets would only put them at more risk. He sat up, gripping his wand on his lap.
"Tabitha and I have been... involved—"
"— together?" Sebastian said merrily. "With tongue?"
"No. We have been involved with Ranrok's rebellion. Together we have been fighting—"
"— your hidden feelings for one another?" Anne said cheerfully. "With tongue?"
"No. Together we have been fighting through goblin camps to clear them out of the area. They must have been searching for what the portrait Rookwood called repositories. We—"
"— are getting married?" said Anne.
"— are fucking?" said Sebastian.
They promptly air-high-fived.
"Both of you, shut up," snapped Ominis. "I'm trying to say the rebellion are fixated on acquiring these repositories and we have no idea what they are!"
"Come on, Ominis." Anne smiled gently. "You don't almost pace your feet off with worry for someone you only find clumsy and frivolous."
Ominis growled. "This is serious. We've fought them thrice this term. Their numbers are growing."
"First they battle their outer goblins," she said to Sebastian, "then they battle their inner goblins."
"With tongue?" he added, with a wiggle of his brow. "Then the numbers aren't the only thing that's growing."
Ominis threw up his hands. "Oh, fine, yes, let's talk about me instead! Clearly my supposedly latent feelings for a friend I have no interest in take far more precedent than the damn war occurring in our own back garden!"
"I'm not saying it's not important," said Anne; she reached out, touched his arm affectionately. "But we're not going to solve Ranrok's criminal strategy lying in the hospital wing, are we?"
"But the matters of the heart, we can?"
"... Well, yeah."
"No!"
"We're not going to solve the Ranrok debacle without Tabitha," Sebastian clarified. "Buuuuut since the rest of us are here, talking our friend through his seethingly obvious fancy seems like a good idea."
"There. Is. Nothing. To. Talk. About." It came out a snarled like a tight spool of wire. "I do not fancy her!"
"He says, as if he hasn't done loads of romantic things with her. Firstly, you've held hands."
"She's held your hand too!"
"Yes, but ours is a friendly handhold. Yours is a passionate interlacing of the fingers like a meeting of hearts, handhold."
Ominis swiped the rest of his chocolate, to Sebastian's protestations. "You've clearly had far too much, if your imagination is this active."
"Doesn't she have your jumper?" asked Anne.
"That's my second point. She never gave it back after she borrowed it in the Scriptorium." Sebastian grinned. "I checked."
"Of course you did," Ominis grumbled. "Two menial instances is no evidence for any sort of romantic inclination between us."
"Fine, shall we count the rest?" Sebastian held up his good hand. "You care a lot about her, you're always spending time with her, you're terrified over her welfare, you're fighting goblins together... and you've snogged on Professor Black's desk."
"Wha—? We have not!"
"It was so good you blacked out."
"I'm going to ram that potion down your throat."
Anne's laugh guttered out as she laid back and closed her eyes. "I miss this."
The two boys went quiet. It had been like this before – the twins teasing Ominis, Ominis rebuffing their antics, if not admonishing them. They spent many a night here after Sebastian got himself into trouble with the Gryffindors, and Anne inadvertently had to help her brother, and Ominis was the only one to come out unscathed. If not here, with big bruises or bloody noses, it was dodging curfew in the Undercroft, playing Gobstones until they stank, practicing spells that set eyebrows aflame and laughing until their stomachs hurt and sleep claimed them against the cold stone pillars. A nostalgic warmth spread through him. His life had always been a tirade of poor choices, but meeting these two and becoming their friend – that was something Ominis would never regret.
So when Anne took sick and dropped out of Hogwarts, it was like a limb had been chopped off. His inner balance was tilted – Anne, for all her bravado and wiles, was the most emotionally connected of the three of them. Without her, Ominis had frosted against the world. Without her, he had erected more walls than opened doors.
Tabitha filled that feminine void, in a way, but as she was one-of-a-kind, so too was Anne, and neither fit into each other's shape perfectly.
Was it selfish to want both?
"It's not too late," he mumbled. "You are always welcome back here with us."
But her eyes fluttered open, and reality had set in. "You know, if you'd come to visit yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to greet you at the door." She laid her hands on her chest, like a corpse in a coffin. "Some days I can run and fight and dance and laugh, and I can pretend nothing's wrong. Other days the very thought of sitting up in bed wrecks me. For every moment of every day, this curse takes everything I have. I won't let it take your happiness and peace of mind too. Either of you."
Grim desolation brimmed in Sebastian's eyes. "You know I'm doing everything I can to help you."
"I know, but Seb, I..." She smiled sadly. "Never mind. I always cherish the letters you send me. Even if I can't be here, hearing about your larks makes my day. It's like I'm still with you in spirit. I was even a little scared to meet Tabitha. I thought you'd went and replaced me."
Ominis was shaking his head at once. "No one could replace you."
Her smile was wry. "I know. And she's lovely, I had nothing to worry about. And neither do you," she said, pointedly at him. "She's going to be fine."
Clipped heels stopped him from responding. He turned his ear; Madam Blainey stepped into view with her hands knitted together, expression firm.
"You have visitors."
Solomon had hastened to fetch Anne, it seemed, maybe even broke his personal code and used Floo. But when Ominis stood, mentally preparing to defend her brother, it was not their uncle that appeared around the corner.
It was a very irate Professor Fig.
And a very battered Tabitha Fulton-Smyth.
Ominis didn't say anything. Just moved. Crushed Tabitha into a hug before she could blurt out a syllable. Idiot, idiot girl. He thought it, but didn't say it. His head lolled on her shoulder, and then she wrapped her arms around him.
"Ominis," she mumbled into his chest, "you're smushing my glasses."
Hair matted, clothes torn, she was, thankfully, still in one piece, but he was certain the long gash on her forehead, now scabbed, hadn't been there before they left the castle. There was also blood on her clothes, making her sleeves stiff; if that was from the loyalists or her trial he couldn't tell.
"Sorry," she mumbled, even quieter.
He let out a little snort. "You should be."
Belatedly, as all things were with her, the scent of her soap spiralled into his nose, and the sweetness of it made his bones melt. He stood back, grasping his composure as much as he did her shoulders.
"Do you know how worried we were?"
"Speak for yourself," Sebastian chimed. "I wasn't worried at all."
"What happened?" Anne asked, leaning forwards. For a moment Ominis could believe she was healthy again. "Where did you go?"
"I'm afraid the reunion will have to wait," said Fig, and Ominis finally tuned to him, his vexation like a spot on the brink of bursting. "As Madam Blainey says you are able to walk around, Master Sallow, I request that I speak to you three alone. Immediately."
At this, Tabitha tensed. It didn't appear as if she'd had much time to recuperate. "Can we not allow Tabitha some rest first, Professor?" Ominis asked.
"No," he said, and turned sharply. "My office, please. Now."
Traipsing through the halls to Fig's classroom, the intensity of the silence felt like static, raising all the hair on Ominis' arms. He could only assume Tabitha and Sebastian were exchanging eye glances and finger movements, by the way they kept making breathy noises too subtle for Fig to hear. Didn't take a Ravenclaw to recognise she had done that trial without his permission. It wasn't wrong, exactly, to take on goblin camps; Ominis had already done it with Tabitha twice, and Fig had joined them for one, but the fact that he clearly hadn't condoned this particular adventure – nor even seemed to have known about it – would not work in their favour. Never before had Ominis seen Fig's true wrath, and he started to gather some excuses, praying his professor would go easy on them for doing a good deed.
Sequestered in the classroom, Fig turned to the three of them, took a breath, and pressed two fingers to his forehead.
"I cannot begin to fathom the sort of mental somersaults required to make invading Rookwood Castle, seat of a criminal gang's kingpin, sound like a good idea. Taking on the loyalists? Fighting not just skilled goblin assassins, but Dark wizards? What were you thinking?"
"We cleared them out, Professor," Sebastian said, jaw hard. "We did what the bloody Ministry hasn't even bothered to do."
"Mind your language, Master Sallow," said Fig. "And what you did was dangerous, reckless, and nothing short of vigilantism. Do you realise how risky it was? You could've all been killed. Your sister could've been killed. Did you think of that?"
He thought of it, all right. Fig clearly underestimated how stubborn Anne was.
"No convincing my sister to back down, sir," said Sebastian.
"Then you should have led by example." He turned to Ominis. "You, Master Gaunt, are too clever to do something this foolhardy. If your friends throw themselves off a cliff, are you obligated to follow them as well? I expect better of you."
Ominis, humbled and cut, just nodded.
"And I am especially disappointed in you, Tabitha." He levelled her a particularly hard stare, and Tabitha went taut, shoulders bunching. "You are my protégé, and I thought I had taught you to make smarter decisions. You don't seem to grasp how precious your life is. You are too new and too inexperienced to be—"
"But I'm not inexperienced!" she burst out, and it was so jarring even Sebastian flinched. "I may not have a million years' experience like any of you, but I— I have learnt a lot in these past four months!"
Fig had been stunned by the outburst. "Tabitha—"
"And— and I'm doing my best! And you're supposed to support me, Professor, and right now it just seems like you're punishing us for doing something well for once!"
"Doing something well? What were you intending to do? Because you certainly didn't deter the loyalists! They've already wrecked the castle and left! Last I heard, Ranrok unleashed a host of Boggarts on Feldcroft in retaliation!"
No. Guilt burst in his chest. The poor residents – the Boggarts had no doubt been attracted by the numbers in Rookwood Castle, and the loyalists had used them as a weapon against the hamlet. Maybe inspired by how Ominis and co. were captured in the first place. Ranrok himself had been there. His arms shook. The silver globe, the repository, and its strange, volatile magic – all that, and still they were unsatisfied?
It was cruelty, plain and simple, and Ominis loathed them for it. He loathed even more the part he played.
"There are always consequences for your actions. You gambled not just with your own lives, but with the lives of everyone around you." He kept his hands behind his back, seeming to think. "Fifty house points will be taken from each of you. You two" – he motioned to the boys – "will serve detention until the end of term, where you will write remedial essays on choices and their impacts."
Sebastian started, "But my upcoming Quidditch match—"
"— can be readily enjoyed from the bench."
"Professor—"
"Finish that sentence and you will enjoy the whole season from the bench."
He promptly shut up.
"As for you, Tabitha, I am hereby revoking your privileges. No more excursions beyond the castle walls unless given explicit permission by myself—"
Tears sprung into Tabitha's eyes. "That's not fair, Professor—!"
"— and you will commit to more hours of study and tutelage. I believe that to be adequate punishment."
"Oh, adequate, is it?" She sniffled through the choked-back sob. "Well, I'm glad something to do with me is adequate."
"Tabitha—" said Ominis.
"Am I not good enough, Professor?"
"I think it best we discuss this in private—"
"Why?" she snapped. "Are you embarrassed you raised such a poor student?"
"It's the opposite. In fact," he seemed ruffled, "in spite of your breaking of every rule I have taught you, the fact that you managed to come out relatively unscathed, whilst miraculous, is also cause for great pride. For all of you." Fig spoke reservedly. "But you must always think before you act. One mistake, one miscalculation, even the smallest error, can lead to vast and long-term costs. I have been there, I have lived it, and if I must set these harsh punishments so that you will learn them, then I will sleep soundly in the knowledge that I have better prepared you to make healthier choices in future."
Miriam? Ominis thought, not sure what else he could be talking about. Does he still blame himself for his wife's death?
Fig cleared his throat. "I will now speak to you alone, Tabitha. Master Sallow, Master Gaunt, you may go. And don't think to stand at the door to eavesdrop. I will know."
Ominis and Sebastian made their way back to the hospital wing, sobered. Feldcroft. Ominis couldn't stop thinking about them. They'd already been plagued by the Boggarts once, and he clung to the idea that they would be strong enough to fend them off on their own. Solomon was ex-Auror, surely he would have the skills to help.
"Can't believe I'm bloody benched for trying to do the right thing," Sebastian said, drawing Ominis back to the present. "Imelda's going to tear me another arsehole. Fuck."
"Do you think Tabitha's all right?" Ominis wondered aloud.
She'd snapped at him in Feldcroft. She'd snapped at Fig in the office. Now that he thought about it, she'd made up that ridiculous excuse of being on her damn monthly bleed to abscond to the trial alone, and a scheme that outlandish was no coincidence. Why else would she be motivated other than to prove herself?
"It sounds like she's been holding onto some demons for a while now," Sebastian replied, cottoning on to Ominis' line of thinking. "Power, too."
Ominis halted. "What?"
"Don't play coy. That was her that blasted the loyalists, wasn't it? The way it happened was identical to her Boggart memory."
Fuck. "I don't know what sort of power she wields, Sebastian. You mustn't say anything."
"But you knew it existed?"
He was silent, an admission of guilt.
Sebastian hummed. "And it looks like she can't control it."
"I— suppose not."
But he laughed, roped his arms around Ominis' shoulder. "Well then," he grinned, "it's a damn good thing she has us, because I have a proposal to make."
Once Ominis and Sebastian were dismissed, Fig sat down behind his desk, suppressing an exhale.
Tears still in her eyes, Tabitha opened her mouth to argue.
"Tea," Fig cut across, holding up a hand. "First, we drink tea."
The house-elves brought more than a steaming pot. Quickly the table was laden with pulled breads, stewed eel jellies and venison minced with herbs, plus half a sliced Battenberg slathered generously in almond paste. Tired, angry, Tabitha aggressively piled a plate with quail eggs, buttered leeks and a chicken handpie. It was long after dinner now, and she hadn't eaten since Sebastian's Shed.
As she ate, he drank his tea.
"How do you like the food?"
Tabitha stared.
"That's what you want to talk about? Food?"
"I'm only asking if it's to your liking." Fig gestured to the frankly decadent spread that was too much for one person. "Does it appeal to you?"
"It's fine," she said stiffly, only for the house-elves' sake.
"You haven't had any cake yet."
She glanced at the Battenberg. She loved sweet things, that much was true, but it almost felt wasteful to try it right now. She couldn't enjoy it. She had neither the mood nor the patience, a rare and remarkable event.
"If you think you can butter me up with cake, you have another thing coming, sir."
"Tabitha—"
"I heard what Professor Rookwood said about me, in the Map Chamber."
Fig nodded, seeming to have already figured it out. "He was too harsh."
"Then why did you agree with him?"
"I didn't agree, Tabitha. I still don't. They seem to be under the impression we have time to spare when the rebellion are actively trying to harm you, and now these... repositories, as you tell me. I find it audacious they decided to delay your trial the same breath the goblins were striking the castle."
She stabbed her fork into the egg. "You didn't stick up for me!"
"Fighting was pointless. Rookwood would not have revealed the trial's location even if I had begged."
"It's not about the location," she said, grabbing the lump in her throat before it could ascend. "You said I didn't have the right attitude."
Fig nursed his tea. "And in ways, it is true, Tabitha."
"But I figured out where the trial was, all by myself! And I beat it in record time! Only an hour! And I fought really hard and—"
"Tabitha—"
"I'm really trying, okay? I like all the learning, and my friends, and Quidditch, and just being here and enjoying myself, because it distracts me from— from what I have to fight for."
"I know, with your difficulties reading, it's been hard," he said evenly, "but just as poor choices can lead to poor consequences, so too can inaction. The portraits rightly fear you're not taking this seriously."
"My family is half-dead!" she cried. "They can't say nowt! And you should've told them that!"
"... Perhaps I should. That is my fault to bear, and I'm sorry about it."
Well, it was a start. Tabitha shovelled a helping of pie into her mouth. Delicious as it was, right now it tasted like ash.
"You have grown into a wonderful young witch and progressed nicely, but you still have a long way to go. You cannot deny that you have not been applying yourself as much as you can, and you have lied to me. You skived off your training to do the trial."
Yep, there it was. Tabitha nodded guiltily.
"You also failed to mention that you could take others through the portals."
"I only took Ominis once, honest."
"And now you've involved the Sallow twins as well." He sighed, squeezed his eyes. "How many times must I tell you, Tabitha? The more people who know—"
"The more dangerous it is, I know. But I swear I didn't tell them any details."
Except Sebastian was too shrewd not to figure out the truth. Heck, he'd probably work out Ranrok's ultimate goal before she blinkin' did.
"You're forbidden from discussing it with them or chasing after any more of these repositories together. This is non-negotiable. Do you understand?"
Tabitha swallowed an uncomfortably large piece of venison. It was a big request. Like there was a dead body on the floor and she had to pretend it didn't exist. They'd discovered evil drills and evil globes and evil plans and almost been killed for it, almost killed at the hands of a bunch of child-knapping maniacs. The trial wasn't easy either. Yes, she completed it in half the time, and the previous two had set her up for what to expect, solving puzzles, blasting knights, sticking her head into a pensieve after a big scary statue cried in it. But she came away with more questions than answers. Her eyes went round watching the young Hogwarts professor Isidora Morganach take some sparkles away from her father's chest. His pain, stowed like pebbles in a jar.
It looked just like the magic in the floating repository. Was that what that was? A bunch of extracted pain? But how did it get so large? How did it get into Rookwood Castle? And why did Ranrok want it? Fig was content to wait for the portraits to drip-feed the truth, but Tabitha's feet were too itchy to stand still, and she suspected it would be the same for Ominis, Sebastian and Anne too.
And asking them not to talk about what happened was like asking for metal not to shine in sunlight: literally impossible.
"What am I supposed to tell them? We all went through the portal together."
"Make something up, if need be. Whatever it takes to throw them off."
"What if they don't believe me?"
"Convince them."
She'd have an easier time getting Ominis to thread a needle by hand! "How? I'm a really bad liar! One time Gertrude made me memorise an excuse to say to the nuns when we skipped matins, and I got my own name wrong!"
He fixed her a stern look. "It is of utmost concern to their safety that you do not discuss these events, Tabitha. That is why I'm setting this rule. Unless you want me to wipe their memories?"
"You can do that?" At his glare, Tabitha nodded glumly. "Okay, I'll do it..."
Except she had no idea how, and at this point... she had no idea if she wanted to.
This ordeal had changed something. Before today, she had burdened her secrets, sealed her lips and guarded her heart, and amidst the banality of going to magic school, it had sat at the back of her mind like a shadow in the corner of the eye, unseen but always present. She was different – and when she knew she was different, she could never belong.
But things were different now. She had unleashed herself, ripped off the chain that held her back, and still Ominis, Sebastian and Anne fought unfalteringly at her side.
Today had forged an impossible bond between them.
And she would no longer face her future alone.
"I did hear reports that the loyalists who unleashed the recaptured Boggarts on Feldcroft were badly injured – burnt, specifically. You blasted the goblins, did you?"
"Did."
"Alone?"
"Well, yeah. No one was exactly going to help me all tied up. I think if I hadn't..."
Fig nodded. "And this repository... what did it look like?"
Tabitha gestured with her knife. "Like a big, silver, filigree pendant, except instead of there being a pretty stone inside, it was full of evil lightning."
"I see." Fig raised his cup. "We will train your magic harder together to ensure Ranrok gets no more of it. I need to know I can count on you to do your best. Can you do that?"
This time, Tabitha nodded. "I will."
"Good, and," he smiled, "well done."
"For the trial?"
"For surviving," he said wryly, drinking the rest of his tea.
By the time Tabitha returned from Fig's office, it was dark, almost curfew, and no one was quite in the mood to chat anymore.
As the three of them cleaned their plates of a late supper, they shared some important news, delivered by owl message not half an hour earlier. The Boggarts, although spectacularly successful at terrifying the Feldcroft residents, had been swiftly apprehended thanks to the Solomon's quick-thinking. His training as an ex-Auror had benefited them not just in the fight, but rallying other people to help, and together they'd managed to capture most of the creatures before irreparable harm was caused, although there was some structural damage to the well up the top of the knoll.
A knot unravelled in Tabitha's gut, just one of many that had formed over the last few hours. Between the castle, the trial, Rookwood – both – and Fig, it was getting harder and harder to juggle her priorities and emotions. Right now she was about as frazzled as a burnt bacon sarnie. She could probably conk out on the end of Sebastian's bed. Or Ominis' lap.
He himself had barely touched his tray. Blainey had procured a variety of salted cheeses, preserves and crackers to curb the hunger before bedtime, but Ominis had only taken two bites and left the rest.
"You should eat," Anne said to him; she had been buried in a mound of pillows. "Keep up your strength."
"When is Solomon arriving to pick you up?"
"Tomorrow. I'll rest here tonight."
He nodded, but made no move to eat.
"I'll make myself scarce before he gets here," Sebastian said with his mouth full; he promptly wiped his pyjama sleeve across his mouth. "My arm should be better by then."
"It's been fun being back here," said Anne. "If only for a night."
"Well." Sebastian left his plate aside. "The rest of the day has been a shitshow."
"Next time," Ominis said, scowling, "I am not chasing after you into any goblin-infested strongholds."
"What was it Fig said? Following off cliffs?"
"If you're not careful I might be the one pushing you."
Sebastian absorbed the jab with a smile. "Still less painful than what Imelda's going to do when she finds out I'm out of the Ravenclaw game. Now they actually have a chance of winning. Especially if Perry the Plummet is playing."
Tabitha couldn't bring herself to laugh. She clutched the end of her singed blouse, rubbed it between her fingers.
"Are you all right?"
She looked up; Ominis faced her, lips curled into a frown. He was quite handsome in the mellow lantern light, when the dancing flames made his eyes look like a sunset.
"I'm fine." It didn't quite reach her normal note of chirpiness, and inwardly she cursed. "Just... a lot to think about."
Sebastian's smile faded. "So have we. You and Ominis have been doing a great job so far at fighting off the goblin rebellion on your own, but given what happened at the castle, I think it's time you had some help. Anne and I want in."
She glanced once at Ominis – his face had creased – before shaking her head. "I can't ask you to do that."
"Tabitha, they're literally after you because of your magic. Don't make that face – I saw the way Rookwood looked at you before you fried his family tree out of existence. It explains all the accidental things you do in lessons, it explains why they sent the troll in Hogsmeade, and it explains why your Boggart was a mushroom cloud of power. You're clearly powerful, but you lack finesse, and if you can't beat them because you can't control your magic, then you're going to need help."
Oh gosh, he really had figured it out. "Ominis?" she said desperately.
"Believe me, I tried talking him out of it," Ominis said wearily. "I've met more amenable stone walls."
"I can help you, Tabitha." Sebastian gestured between himself and Anne. "We can. I'm great at magic, and Anne—"
"Moral support," she said, with a sheepish laugh. "I may not be able to help physically, but ask me for anything, and I'll do my best."
"But you can't help me. None of you should be helping me."
"Why?" asked Ominis. "Fig forbade it?"
"It's supposed to be a secret! I'm shouldn't even be talking to you about it!" She grasped her trembling breath. "And it's really, really dangerous! I mean, we almost died today! Imagine that, but... but every day!"
"So?" Sebastian snorted. "I once almost killed Ominis by kicking him off the Astronomy Tower."
Ominis sighed. "I told you that Ascendio doesn't cancel out your current momentum but you just had to make me try anyway."
"I flew down after him," said Anne, scowling at her brother. "You're not selling us very well, here."
"All I'm just saying is we've been in plenty scrapes before. Hell, that's the second time we've cleared out the goblins from Feldcroft. And the Undercroft – where do you think we learnt to duel so well? It wasn't against Prewett in Crossed Wands, I'll tell you that. You're learning the basics with Fig, but we can help you hone your magic into something you can use."
Tabitha didn't know what to say. Someone had reached into her throat and stolen her vocal cords. It wasn't like they didn't know the dangers – they did, they'd gone through it with her, and still they were willing to fight anyway, all for her sake.
She hadn't made up that bond, after all.
Oh. Tabitha blinked. There was a big, lumpy tear in her eye. And it was breeding like a pair of lusty rabbits.
"But... but..."
"Any more excuses?"
Everyone went suddenly blurry. She tried to cuff at her eyes, rattling her glasses.
"I mean it, it really is dangerous."
"Makes life more interesting," said Anne, smiling.
"And you can't tell anyone."
"Can't tell anyone what?" Sebastian said with a wink.
She looked at Ominis for any objection, but he merely tipped his head.
"Nowhere is safer than at my side— our side," he corrected quickly. "We'll protect you."
"If... if you're really, really certain?"
Sebastian reclined against the bed. "That's what best friends do, right?"
He might as well have hacked the stopcock himself for the way her eyes instantly exploded in tears. Ominis reached into his pocket to offer a handkerchief, and Tabitha summarily blew her nose like a cannon shot.
"Sorry. I'll ask a house-elf to wash it."
"No need." He pinched the cloth by the corner and said, "Scourgify," vanishing all evidence of her outburst.
"Thank you," she blubbered, as he tucked it back into his pocket. "I won't let you down."
"After what you did at the castle?" Sebastian grinned. "Don't think you ever could."
After saying their goodbyes to Anne, Tabitha and Ominis made their way back from the hospital wing together. On the cusp of curfew, the hallways were abandoned and quiet, but as Ominis seemed content to take his time heading down the stairs of the faculty tower, Tabitha did the same.
Things would be different now that her friends knew about her magic, everything but the name. She didn't have to hide it anymore, which was a relief, but she also had to face whatever consequences came in sharing its burden. Rookwood, Ranrok, any other evil forces that decided to pop out of the woodworks – whatever happened to them from here on out happened on her behalf. Her friends getting hurt was her fault. It scared her as much as it made her more determined to do right, because if she couldn't protect the people she cared about, she certainly wouldn't be able to protect the world.
For now, though, this was enough. And it was so, so nice to feel like she wasn't half-hidden behind a shroud anymore. She was just Tabitha now – instead of Tabitha the Big Fat Liar Liar Lick Dish.
But not everything was dandy yet. She kept pace with Ominis, traced the unreadable profile of his expression, lips pressed, eyes shuttered. Before all this drama ensued, he'd been the most eager to understand her and her ancient magic, and after months of skirting his cunning, devious and sometimes manipulative attempts to extract the truth, she'd gone and blurted all about it in one random afternoon. Worse, Sebastian and Anne knew as much as he did now, for all his trying to keep it a secret, and keep it to himself. And now that he did, and all her dirty washing – family and magic – was flapping around like a soiled pair of knickers on a clothes line, were things going to change between them? Would he not want a fake friend anymore? A fake maybe-girlfriend? She was dangerous, a liability to his ultimate plan to have a typical school year and be left alone, and his sombre lack of curiosity wasn't giving her much hope.
"Uncle Solomon aside, Feldcroft is a really nice little place," she exclaimed into the silence, just to fill the space. "I'm glad the Boggarts didn't do too much damage."
"I'm sure the repairs were easy," he muttered, and she wondered if that was more to reassure himself than her.
"You must miss the place too, when you're at Hogwarts."
His face creased with longing. "I certainly miss Anne, and the summers I used to spend here when she wasn't sick, but... it's not the same since she took ill. Her curse changed many things, not just her health."
"Her curse..." Tabitha mumbled, thinking of Anne tucked into that hospital bed, weathered and fragile and haggard. "It's different from the one my family has."
If she found a way to heal her family, could she heal Anne, too?
"Curses take many forms, but they come from a place of wanting to cause harm," said Ominis. "Yours is unique in that regard, because you had no such intention. What you did was... unheard of."
He trailed off, clearly in thought, and Tabitha followed him to the Grand Staircase in silence. This was where they would part, him branching off towards Slytherin, her going down to Hufflepuff. It felt like someone had stuffed paper in her mouth for the way her tongue seemed to crumple on itself, but Ominis stopped, turned to face her by the walkway to the stairs.
"Are you certain you don't need medical attention?"
"I drank my weight in Wiggenwelds, don't worry."
"All right. If you change your mind—"
"I know the way to the hospital wing by heart," she said proudly.
"Through full fault of your own." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Just don't collapse on the way back."
"I won't."
Silence. It drew on just long enough to feel awkward. She didn't like it – the thing between them still. Tabitha yanked courage by a chokehold.
"Ominis – are we okay?"
His brow flickered. "Why wouldn't we be?"
She winced. "It's just... I kept my magic secret for so long. I did want to tell you, really, but you know Fig told me off for getting you involved with the goblins, and now he's mad I did the trial without telling him, and the big portraits said I had to keep it secret because it's dangerous, and now Sebastian and Anne know about it too, and I'm really sorry—"
"You don't have to explain." His composure soothed her a little. "Having experienced that magic first hand... I see why you weren't eager to share its existence with anyone, least of all me."
"But things have changed," she said. "Because I... I do want to share it with you."
His brow tightened in confusion. "I don't understand. Is there more to it?"
Tabitha fiddled with her hands, drew her shoulders in like a brace against attack. "Well, for one, it... it's called ancient magic."
There it was, out in the open. Two little words she'd been trying not to accidentally projectile-vomit until now. A fifty-ton weight slid off her shoulders, thunked to the ground, and the shadow dissolved from the corner of her eye. If he recognised the term, he didn't show it; Ominis' mouth formed first a line of unfamiliarity, then warmed to intrigue.
"So it has a name."
She nodded.
"Ancient magic." The words scintillated on his tongue. "I've never heard of it. Is there no record of it anywhere?"
"Not a winkle. Tried looking. Fig did too, in the Restricted Section."
"I see. And is it specific to you?"
She shook her head. "There's been a few people before me who had it."
"Ah, yes." He sneered. "The portrait."
"Rackham's not so bad," she said sheepishly. "There was also an old professor that could do the same things during Rackham's time. Isidora Morganach. Does that ring any bells?"
"I'm afraid not."
Crumbs. She had wondered.
"Why?" he said, and his expression became unreadable again. "Why did you want to tell me?"
Tabitha didn't know if she could put her feelings into words. The last few hours had tested so many of her emotions that they were a jumbled mass in her stomach. For so long, she had been waiting for the right outlet to let them go.
She'd never considered that the outlet could be someone else.
"I know it's just a name," she mumbled, "and I could've told it to Sebastian and Anne too, but giving it a name gives it meaning. You've been through it all with me, and I guess... I'm tired of keeping so many secrets, especially from you."
The corner of his lip turned up. "From me?"
"You know everything now. Ain't nothing about me that's secret anymore. Hope that doesn't make me boring."
He stepped closer, eking out the gap between them.
"Boring is the last thing you could ever be."
Her neck heated, and she tugged her cloak, willing it to cool. In the uneven din of the castle, all she could hear was the snoozing portraits, the grind of the moving stairs above and the pipes groaning distantly in the tower walls – yet it was Ominis who had her full attention, silent as stone. He kept his hands behind his back, but his elbows twitched, evidence of restful fingers.
"I don't take these secrets lightly, Tabitha," he said, angling his head low. "Especially in regards to your ancient magic. I won't say a word about it. I should be thanking you, in fact. We survived because of what you can do."
He was thinking of the lightning. Blasting all the loyalists at once.
"Can you conjure magic like that on command?"
"No..."
"So you did it for me?"
The acute fear that had pierced her watching Rookwood put his wand to Ominis' forehead was not something she wanted to experience again. Tabitha suddenly needed a fan. Ominis wasn't looking at her – he couldn't – but his gaze was so potent it kindled sparks in her body anyway.
"I didn't know what to do and... if he hurt you..."
His face softened.
"We must stop almost dying, you and I." There was that wryness that gave her comfort. "Thank you, then. For saving my life."
Funny, really; after she'd zapped those loyalists to kingdom come, he'd been more concerned about her than himself. The way he'd gripped her shoulders, the demand to know the state of her wellbeing. Why is it so hot in here? She tugged her cloak loose, laughed awkwardly.
"I-I would've done it for anyone, really. Sebastian and Anne too, you know?"
He cleared his throat and stepped back. "Yes, of course, as you should. Excellent work, by the way. Sebastian is convinced we are attached. The ruse is working as expected."
Yes, that was right. The ruse. Telling him all these things, being completely honest to him, believing there to be a true bond – she had a bleeding heart and she knew, this time, it would come back to haunt her in force. Ominis wasn't really her friend. He wasn't her maybe-boyfriend. Once the roles they had to play weren't necessary anymore, they'd go their separate ways: her, happy with her new friends and life, and Ominis alone. He didn't need to know all about her like this. He didn't really care.
But she did. Just a little. And it was getting harder and harder to like the idea of letting him go.
"That's good! Rod, line and sinker, as my papa would say." She tasted ash with the words. "Erm, anyway, I should— we should—"
"Yes, you must be exhausted." He took another step back. "Goodnight, Tabitha."
She drew her arms in, tugging nervously on her hair, and took five steps down for the lower level before he called back.
"Tabitha, wait."
She turned – he was at the top of the stairs, limned by lantern glow. That expression again. The intensity.
"For what it's worth," he murmured, "I think you're strong enough to do anything you set your mind to. I don't know what Fig or the portraits said to you, but... you are far more than adequate. Don't ever forget that."
He offered her a smile, and it struck her how good it looked on him.
"That... t-thank you." Is there a frog in my throat? No, you're just being silly. "I'm sorry for yelling at you before."
"All is well." He tipped his head. "Goodnight."
By the next heartbeat he was gone, and Tabitha watched the space where he disappeared. If she concentrated, she could picture him there, as still and as mighty as the surface of a lake. He'd remembered what she said to him, outside Feldcroft. He'd remembered how angry she'd been, and how out-of-character. He'd remembered and tucked away that little moment with him, and used it to reassure her and turn it into something kind.
A person as evil as the rumours said could never do something so sweet.
He really believed she could do anything. And when Ominis believed it, Tabitha found she believed it, too.
She pressed a hand to her cheek. Face flushed, heart fluttering... maybe she needed the hospital wing after all. Instead, she turned away, chalking it up to fatigue, and made the journey back to Hufflepuff alone.
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Pairings: Caregiver!Obi-Wan Kenobi, Little!Anakin Skywalker X Little!Reader.
Summary: Obi-Wan senses some big emotions with the force...
Warnings: Unspecified Jedi Master (for reader), Mentions of difficult mission, Nicknames (Young ones, Little ones.)
(Gender Neutral Reader)
‼️THIS IS NOT NSFW‼️
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NOT Proofread
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Despite you and Anakin being trained by different Jedi masters the two of you were quite close. The stress of being a Padawan was something known to the both of you...
You guys hadn't realised at the time but after you and you master as well as Anakin and Obi-Wan completed a particularly hard mission the two of you seeked each other out, both in a vulnerable state... Obi wan had found you two sitting next to each other in the corner of an empty room, calmly colouring and babbling to each other emotionally.
Obi-Wan had had suspicions about his own Padawan regressing, although never putting a name on it.. It was more of a case that he noticed the boy becoming more vulnerable especially after hard missions. That's how he had ended up finding you guys. He was looking for the boy, slightly shocked to see the both of you.
He wasn't oblivious, attachment was forbidden as a Jedi... He knew that your master would hardly allow you to endulge in your regression, inferring that you stayed around Anakin as the both of you regress.
"Hello there young ones..." He spoke softly as to not scare you guys.
You jumped, moving closer to Anakin, you had always trusted Anakin greatly... Obi-Wan noticed Anakin hold your hand gently, assuring you that the two of you were safe.
"You guys are okay.. not to worry! I could sense some big emotions... Is everything alright..?"
Anakin grumbled incoherently whilst you responded quietly.
"Sad- mission was hard.."
"Hmm.. the mission was awfully hard wasn't it.. you know what- I might have something to make you guys feel a little better!" Speaking excitedly, hoping to encourage the young Padawans.
"Hmm..?" Mumbled Anakin.
"What about.. I tell you two a story..."
"Story..!" Both your and Anakins eyes practically lit up.
"Of course. Would that make you guys feel a little better..?"
You both nodded.
"Come over here then little ones."
You and Anakin crawled over to Obi-Wan, who was now leaning against a wall allowing for the two of you to cuddle up to him.
As you and Anakin relaxed he began to tell you a story.. about one of his missions, a rather nice one.. he got to look around a beautiful planet on that mission..
Summary: After your first solo mission, you return to the Temple, longing only to throw yourself into the arms of your Master. Unfortunately, you are informed that Anakin is not feeling well...
Warnings: angst | hurt/comfort | descriptions of pain | fluffy ending
Word Count: 2k
You arrived in Coruscant just after dusk. The mission took up your entire day, and aside from the urgent messages sent by the Council, you didn't even have time to connect with anyone from the Temple. Although you attempted to communicate with Anakin through your comlink several times, he wasn't responding.
It had been a few weeks since your knighting ceremony, and during that time, you had spent a lot of time together, practically finishing and starting each day at either his quarters or yours. You had no illusions that you would like to conclude this busy day in his arms.
"General Kenobi!" you exclaimed, descending from the platform where Obi-Wan waited, unfortunately, unusually without his apprentice by his side.
"Here she is!" Kenobi replied, bowing to you and the crew, whose members saluted as they descended from the platform.
"How do you feel after your debut?" Obi-Wan asked with a hint of pride, walking with you towards the Temple's interior.
"As you've probably heard, everything ended successfully. We returned intact, didn't lose anyone... Let's hope this streak continues." you replied, walking slowly alongside Kenobi.
"I deeply believe it will." he said, smiling at you.
"If you'll excuse me." he added, attempting to catch one of the troopers on the way with a mission report.
You nodded and stood by, waiting for Obi-Wan to handle his business, but thoughts swirled in your head - Anakin's absence worried you, and considering the lack of contact, you knew something was definitely not right.
You paced in circles, fidgeting with your nails until Kenobi finished his conversation, and when the two finally parted ways, you walked back with him.
"What's with the melancholy, young lady?" he said, eliciting a gentle, albeit very brief, smile from you.
"I don't know... Just... Uh... Have you seen Anakin?" you asked with clear doubt in your voice.
"Good question... I saw him in the morning heading to the Chancellor. Later, we had a council meeting, but he left early, said he wasn't feeling well." Kenobi replied, increasing your doubt.
Through years of war, battles, you had never seen him sick – even days after the divorce with Padmé, he never skipped a council meeting, as he used to say, 'focusing on work helps forget about problems.'
"I guess he'll sleep it off, and he'll be better tomorrow. Then, you can discuss today's events. Surely, you need some rest too." Kenobi added after a moment of silence, to which you nodded.
"Sure..." you replied as you reached the crossroads where you should go in opposite directions.
"It's probably nothing serious." you added, forcing a smile, which Kenobi genuinely reciprocated.
"May the Force be with you." Kenobi said before heading towards his quarters.
"May the Force be with you." you replied, and as you turned in your direction, your smile was replaced by genuine emotions.
You knew you should go straight to your room, but you couldn't. You couldn't bear not knowing what was happening with Anakin, not knowing why he was feeling unwell.
Taking a deep breath, you headed to the elevators and descended one floor, navigating through a dark corridor towards Skywalker's quarters.
When you stood in front of the door, you decided to knock, but after waiting for over a minute with no response, you realized no one was opening. You pulled the handle, but the door was locked. Feeling drained to wait any longer, you ultimately used the Force to open the door. You tried to do it as quietly as possible.
When the door unlocked, you noticed R2-D2 inside. The vigilant droid immediately directed its diodes toward you but, sensing no threat, didn't react chaotically.
You decided to take a few quiet steps into the bedroom, and suddenly, a sight unfolded before your eyes that shattered your heart into pieces.
Anakin sat shirtless on the floor, leaning against the metal frame of his spacious bed, his face buried in his hands.
"Anakin." you whispered, not knowing how to handle the situation.
Skywalker didn't respond, and you approached him, kneeling beside him. In doing so, you accidentally knocked over a few empty, disposable coffee cups scattered around the room.
"Hey." Anakin finally spoke after a while, but so softly that you could barely hear him.
"What's going on? Please, tell me." you asked, gently stroking his shoulder.
His exposed skin was feverish, his bangs stuck to his forehead, and strands of hair seemed matted – you could barely see his eyes, especially since he kept avoiding your gaze, looking down.
"I'll be fine... I just feel... Sick." he replied after a pause, forcing a smile... A smile that you immediately read as filled with pain.
"Anakin, please, be serious... I've never seen you in worse shape, and I... I'm terribly worried." you said. He didn't reply.
He removed your hand from his shoulder and gently placed it on his own, then proceeded to kiss it fervently. He didn't part his lips from your delicate skin for a few minutes, and on one hand, you didn't want to press, but on the other, you wanted to know what was troubling him as soon as possible.
You sat still until you felt something that broke your heart. You felt a tear from Anakin's eye drip onto your hand. Sensing it run down your wrist, you decided to gently lift his chin with your other hand, tilting his head towards you so he finally looked at you.
"Please... Look at me." you whispered with sadness in your voice, and finally, Anakin's eyes met yours, instantly causing them to glisten.
His eyes and eyelids were reddened, and on his cheeks, you saw both dried and fresh streaks from tears, which you delicately wiped away with the back of your fingers as soon as you noticed them. He looked like he hadn't slept for a very long time – he was visibly worn down, and his forced smile only emphasized that.
"Please, tell me..." you whispered, cradling his feverish face in your cool hands.
"I haven't slept well..." he whispered as you gently stroked his face.
"I think you meant to say 'I haven't slept at all.'" you replied, casting a fleeting glance at the scattered coffee cups with grounds. Anakin always drank strong coffee, but never this strong.
"Please... I'm really scared." you added after a moment, once again locking eyes with him.
"Me too." he responded, and you furrowed your brows, unsure of what he meant. Your hands returned to his, and you slowly rose from the floor.
"First, please get up. Sit here, comfortably." you indicated the bed and offered him your hand to help him up. Anakin took your hand and pulled himself up slightly to sit next to you on his soft mattress. You embraced him gently and again locked eyes with him, signaling that he should continue.
"What are you afraid of? What do you mean?" you asked softly, watching as his gaze scanned your slightly brighter face.
"Something haunts me... I feel it again..." he replied after a moment of hesitation, and you tried to piece together the fragments.
"Again? You mean..."
"Nightmares," he answered before you could finish, and you felt powerless.
You didn't want to ask for details - a part of you wanted to know, but another part protested.
"They're worse, more realistic than ever..." he added after a moment, not breaking eye contact with you.
"Anakin... How can I..."
"Hold me." he suddenly replied, and without hesitation, you embraced him, burying your face in his neck.
His grip was desperate and strong - stronger than ever. He held you as if the entire world depended on it, as if letting you go meant losing you forever. You felt his unstable heartbeat, and your eyes welled up at the thought of the non-physical pain Anakin was involuntarily enduring.
You remembered that nightmares had haunted him years ago, but you had never been this close to him - never had the opportunity to help him somehow endure them.
"I'm here... I'm with you." you whispered into his ear, gently running your fingers through his hair.
Minute by minute, you felt his body calming down, and the tension slowly dissipating. There was still a sense of brokenness, but both of you knew that it couldn't be bypassed in a matter of minutes.
"Let's lie down, okay?" you asked after a while, lifting your face from his neck enough to look into his eyes. Anakin nodded, and both of you simultaneously fell onto his soft pillows, lying facing each other, never letting go.
"I would give a lot for you not to have to go through this... I would do anything." you whispered slowly, and now it was Anakin who cupped your face with his hand.
"I wouldn't want you to give up anything." he replied after a while, and you didn't even prepare a response.
You moved closer to his face, and when your lips met, you left him with a sweet, short kiss.
"Please." he whispered, pleadingly, not wanting the kiss to be so short, and quickly returned his lips to yours, kissing them tenderly and not parting for the next few longer moments.
When you both ran out of breath, you separated your lips, touching foreheads and listening to only your accelerated breaths. The atmosphere seemed dense, but there was already less pain and more of something you had been suppressing for a long time.
"Anakin..." you whispered, and at that moment, your heart raced the fastest. Skywalker looked at you, feeling the emotions tearing through you.
"I love you."
And the world stood still – both his and yours. You unloaded a huge emotional burden, but you didn't know how he would take it. His eyes sparkled, and you would bet that hearing your words momentarily held his breath.
Despite his own shock, he read each of your emotions and scanned your face as if getting to know you anew. He didn't even have to look for answers – he didn't need to make sure that your words came straight from the heart. Both of you felt that the burden of pure truth had been thrown off, just waiting to be voiced.
"I love you too." he finally uttered, the voice you had been waiting for, causing tears to gather in your eyelids.
Anakin's eyes were also glistening, but this time you saw a flash of relief and happiness in them, until finally, a genuine, beautiful smile appeared on his face, which you instantly reciprocated.
After gazing at each other's love-struck faces, your lips met again, this time in a more passionate, tension-relieving kiss, the sincerest and strongest you had ever shared. Both of you were breathless, breaking it.
"Promise me something." you said between deep breaths, and his eyes immediately looked at you, expecting the continuation of your words.
"Fall asleep with me now... I'll be right there with you, just please, get some rest." you spoke with clear seriousness, and after a moment of hesitation, Anakin nodded, and his smile returned to its place.
"I'll try." he whispered before gently sinking onto you, so that he was in your embrace.
"Relax, think of something that brings you joy." you whispered to him, and with your free hand, you reached for a blanket lying next to both of you, covering Anakin enough so that he wouldn't feel the cold on his exposed skin at any moment of the night.
You didn't care that you were fully dressed – you didn't want to give an inch away from him, not now, when he finally gained a bit of peace. You looked at his closed eyes and gradually calming breath, gently circling your fingers on his back.
When you kissed him on the forehead, the corner of his mouth lifted in a sweet smile, and your head landed on the pillow – not to fall asleep, but to - before doing so - make sure that Anakin had drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Soon, all tension disappeared – you felt only calm breaths on your skin and the touch of his chest rising and falling rhythmically.
Only peace surrounded him.
Only peace and your tender gaze, which soon faded away to drift together with him.
Summary: Obi-Wan knew that putting two young people together would result in too many emotions to handle, yet he just stood there and watched it all unfold for years. The most interesting things, however, are happening right where he can’t see the bloody Skywalker.
Content: Anakin x Female!Padawan!reader, jealousy angst, bits of fluff, Padme hate club, no mature content (yet 😏)
Word count: 6.6K
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