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court-jobi · 1 year

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Expert in Distraction

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 1,883

Rating: M, 18+ (please scroll on by, kiddos)

Warnings: 🔥stress relief, est. relationship, spicy stimulation, fem pronouns, excessive use of the nickname 'angel', #thehelmetstayson

Summary: He’s been workin’ on this new hot-rod of his for a while now. He works hard enough with errands of his own, and deserves a break more than anything– especially after all he’s been through lately. So you try to spell your Mandalorian– only to have him bail you out when things go south on an errand in the Tattooine market scene. Frustrated and down on yourself, you try to keep your angst out of his sight… only for your Mando partner-in-crime to sense his girl needs him and opts to helps alleviate your stress.

“D’you wanna talk, or a distraction?”

You meant it as a clarifying question, but it came out soft: a plea for the solution to the problem.

“Distraction…?”

Oh, yes. Yes to the touch, yes to that angle, yes to the distraction, yes to your Din Djarin.

A/N: Inspired by my favorite bounty hunter (and how the phrase "rough day" will forever be cemented in my mind by @no-droids beloved work), here's how I imagine the sharp-eyed -but ridiculously in love- Mandalorian would help you unwind after a day where nothing's gone right. Cleaning carbon scoring can wait; after you've answered his question for how best to help you...

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Ashla knows you'd had a rough day.

You'd been running clear across compounds in search of what you thought were easy to find supplies while your Mandalorian was making repairs in the comfort of a private shipyard. He needed a break from finding his own parts this week, but would never say so. Routine stuff wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle picking up and enjoyed the time alone to feel accomplished, so you set out for the chore yourself.

What you didn't expect was the shootout in the hangar. Damn hothead spacers...

That sure put a wrench into things. You got interrupted on the job and caught in a really tight spot without much cover or a good exit path. Not that you could handle without being covered in beskar. So, you sent out your reluctant call about the outburst to the other end of your comm, where Mando obviously came to get you, broke it up, and brought you back right as night fell.

But the adventure of the day left you feeling pent up and irritated at how it'd gone.

You steamed at the sink, having rinsed the parts you’d salvaged but staring the pile down before mustering the will to dry them off. Sighing as you did so, you sensed his presence behind you. His shadow on the wall gave you pause so you just carried on, thinking he'd move along.

Only he didn't. Inside that she'll keeping his face from you, he wrestled with how to help you. A hand came to your waist, a low voice breaking through the incoming tension headache brewing behind your eyes;

"Hey you."

He was in soft mode. Shit. You could hear it in his voice, and your heart sank.

You seriously loved when he'd get sweet like this. But after today? You knew you were in a horrible mood and felt guilty for not falling into him as easily as you wanted.

"Hey," you tried to manage back pleasantly, but you were tired. "I'm almost done here, then we can relax if you want," and so you picked up your pace.

The Mando leaned over you easily and led your hand off the counter. "Don't worry about those."

Your temper flared and turned around to face him,

“Look I'm fine, just let me do this, ok? I can do this one thing!"

Deadly quiet calmness shut your throat again as he looked down at you. One sided tip of the helm, a cue for you to check yourself.

You hopelessly just wanted something to go right out of this day... and you regretted the tone as soon as you said it.

So, you took a deep breath and stared off to the side. Giving up the bite, you chucked the towel somewhere behind you, gripping onto his belts' hooks in midreach– to communicate his touch was welcome at the very least. You'd still take the hug, even if you weren't happy. Ungloved and warmer than the usual gloves covering him up, his grounding hand returned-- this time coming to your cheek.

"D'you want to talk, or a distraction?"

Ugh, you’d had enough talking about the things going wrong recently. Now, distraction? That could be anything from fixing you a snack, to shooting mynocks off the hilltop. Depends if he’s angry enough.

You meant it more as a clarifying question, but it came out soft- for the solution to the problem.

"Distraction…?"

With another tilt, the Mandalorian closed the rest of the space between you and trailed that hand up to rake your hair away. He caught the pair of pins where you'd tied your front pieces back in a hurry and worked them out, tossing them in the sink behind you. With another careful shake and swipe all the way down, now he was able to work the braid out. You let your eyes fall shut at the sensation, releasing your finger's grip into a gentler hold on his sides. A slight hum came from you without realizing and you worked to let your brow fall from its tensed peak.

"There’s my girl," he whispered. "I've missed you."

He meant the smile that had been missing; it was back the instant he touched you. You flickered up at him a little pitiful, and he hummed at you– the sign that he was watching.

"Sweet girl..." The mutter under his breath at the sight of you. "...why don't I just help you unwind a bit. You’ll feel better. "

"How's that?" You asked softer, your voice weak and a bit higher.

He leaned in a bit closer to your ear, nuzzling against your temple as his gently as beskar would allow. Cradling the back of your head to him as his hand planed across your stomach,

"I can help relax you. You won't have to move or lay a finger on anything else tonight. Just let me take care of you. Touch you, in all the ways I know you love."

His hand slid down lower as the moment blended into something else, and you suddenly inhaled quick at the fluttering you now felt in your thighs.

A delicious distraction.

Your Mandalorian coaxed you, his hand massaging at your hip. "How does that sound?"

You nodded and hummed high in your throat, moaning a little when he massaged that hand into your hair to scratch your scalp.

He'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. He'd accomplished the first, now to solve the second....

You hummed when he massaged through your hair, and reacted: pulled him close enough where you could reach up to his shoulders. He pressed in like a perfect fit and traced the edge of your pants, right at the tender skin of your stomach.

"S'that feel good, angel?"

He nuzzled you again to gauge your permission. You nodded again and fell into the sway he started, your hips unconsciously pressing into his. Anything to be closer. Your head dropped towards his neck while your arms found their home atop his shoulders. He swelled with pride at how easy you would stay under him.

WIthout an ounce of hesitation left, the Mandalorian took the submission to let his hand slip under your waistband. You hummed bright at the intrusion and whimpered when he'd ghosted over that tender part at your core before he let his hand cup you fully. Hiding in that warm spot of fabric before the hard beskar chestplate, you sighed into his touch below… The sink of your entire body wasn’t far from your Mando’s sight, as he cradled you back to lean against the counter the whole way down.

"That's my angel... I've got you. There we go~."

Softness galore and buttery warmth coated his voice while he coaxed you just enough to have you sink back against the countertop and your legs widened a bit more for his hand to move. "Is this ok?"

"Yes please," you whispered- laced with far more begging than you anticipated.

Yes to the touch, yes to the angle, yes to the distraction, yes to him.

His chuckle echoed in the helm. "So polite.. you have good manners, cyar'ika."

Fingers began to work gently against your opening (all to elicit a moan from you), finding their home and making space as he pleased,

"--But I want you to forget the honorifics tonight. You just let go and say whatever you need to. Loud as you want."

The sigh that left you at his words was so needed and gripping him tighter sent the message:

"Fuuuuck that feels good."

You felt your hips rock against him on their own. As your guide the rest of the way in, he captured you to his chest.

This here, this guy was a man of words you got when the two of you were alone. How grateful you were for the brief respite being on this dustball of a planet gave you. Away from the other hunters, from the garage techs, even out of Peli’s guest rooms– here in the little corner of your private, rented garage, he'd litter all sorts of sweet words on you while handling you against that counter… your stomach jumping at each one as they flowed through you.

You sound… so kriffing gorgeous, just like this.

That's it, c'mon.

That's my pretty girl.

You work so hard for me. This is all for you, now.

Let go for me.

Any aggravation of the day be damned. Nothing mattered except for the bow to burst; and your Mando was making great time, the expert of distraction he is. That's his secret weapon-- turning around a bad day the moment you give the word.

The live wire in you was beginning to burn, sparking trembles in the body that made your legs shake. A foot popped off the ground and atop the strong thigh that parted you.

Normally you were laying down for this part, and nerves for the sudden onslaught of it rose with a vengeance, getting better of you.

Beside his helmet, you caught the reflection of your brows tense for new reason. Facing your light and relieving pants, the black of the visor stayed fixed on your face.

"I-I,I cant- Din,” you begged, “I can't–"

"Yes you can, mesh’la." He whispered as if he were the call of Sleep himself. As if it were a dream.

The quiver ebbing inside brought you to hide in his neck.

The voice seeping from the edge of the helmet,

"You're so close, let go.”

The core of you revved to the edge. Your only hope was that voice–

–and its final, sweet order:

“Cum for me, angel."

For gasps of breath after you stopped shaking, you held onto him for dear life. Thankfully, he made doing so more comfortable by slipping off his chestplate between you.

It's no secret now, your loving him. In your light, ditzy whisper to tell him so, he merely hummed a little chuckle back, gave you a gentle keldabe kiss, and swayed again. Just content to hold you- and murmur it back in turn.

The gesture of what you did today didn't go unnoticed; Din knew exactly what you'd been trying to do. Taking on the grocery run would have spelled him after a string of long days this week. How could he blame you for a a frustrating turn of events like a shootout? He'd be pissy, too.

Not only would he come every time to help, but he'd spell them from you if he could. He honestly preferred having you by his side on errands, anyway. But the offer meant the world to him.

"Mmm'love you..." the little whimper came from the lovely bundle in his arms. The stress appeared to have melted away entirely.

"Someone has tired eyes," he replied back, equally sated at the sight of his darling, "Now, no lifting any fingers, hear me? I mean it. I'll take care of these in the morning."

No fight from you there. He drove it straight out of you, to his own happy calm.

Of course, when Din led you both out from the workspace and toward the residential district, locking the garage behind them, he made sure to keep you under his arm and gave his warm word of love right back.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the helmet stays on #mando x reader #mandalorian pre-BOBF #din djarin smut

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tropes-and-tales · 1 month

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Shadow and Light: Chapter Three

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x F!Reader

WC: 3312

Other Pieces: This is part of a larger miniseries that can be found here.

CW: Slow-burn; plot-building; canon violence; non-canon fighting; pining.

Channeling always left you drained, and it was doubly so when you used Ashla for healing. It was like a fast-moving river: when you opened the gates and let it flow through you, it wasn’t the using that wore you out – it was closing the gates, turning it off.

You’d heard about entire orders of people who could use the power. You own adopted people had mystics who used it for guidance or healing, and you’d heard of the Jedis and Sith, and darker sects like the Nightsisters. You knew that those who were trained in it could channel it specifically, but for you, it was just torrents of raw power that coursed through you. Neither good nor bad.

And because you couldn’t really control it, there was always a spillover effect. When you healed Mando that evening, the deluge of power also showed you visions upon visions that cycled through your head as you slept by the fire that night. Visions of the past, visions of possible futures. None of them really making sense. The strongest vision – the one that stayed to the forefront of your mind even when you woke – was the most unsettling.

You were still exhausted the next morning, so when you and Mando and the floating pod exited the canyon and saw the Razor Crest being dissembled by Jawas, well….there wasn’t much you could do other than sigh and watch Mando pursuit them pointlessly. Once he was out of sight, you sighed again and guided the pod with the child into what was left of the ship.

“He does things the hard way,” you told the Child, who twitched its ears and held its arms out to you. You lifted it out of its pod, and it snuggled into your arm with a pleased coo.

Jawas were canny scavengers, and you and the Child inspected the damage: they had taken almost everything of value, tearing out components that could be repurposed for other vehicles. The frame of the ship was intact, though, and they’d left most of the personal effects behind. Mando’s sleeping quarters had been tossed and searched, but they’d missed the little nook you’d carved out for yourself in the cargo hold. Your pack was still there, untouched, and you knelt down and rooted through it now for some food.

You had a package of preserved nutrition bars – they tasted terrible, but they were food. You gnawed at one and pressed little bits to the Child, who ate them but frowned so mightily at the taste that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know,” you told it. “They’re bad.”

Then there was nothing to do but wait, so you took the Child to the cockpit, settled into one of the remaining seats, and curled up. The Child made a sleepy grumble as it burrowed against you, and before long, it was asleep.

It wasn’t a weapon after all. You had truly thought it was some thing, maybe a cache of kyber crystals that the Empire used to power its awful death machines. But it was just a child, a sweet little thing from what you could tell, and every moment you spent with it, the more certain you were: your original plan only needed a little revision. Instead of destroying the asset to keep it from the hands of the Empire, you were going to protect it.

*****

Mando was discomfited, so when he caught the Jawas destroying his ship, running after them in a blind rage seemed perfectly reasonable.

You’d thrown him off his center when you healed him the previous night, and he had been uncomfortable ever since. Maybe uncomfortable wasn’t the right word. He was a man of few words, after all. Maybe bothered was a better word.

His arm was perfectly healed. Even in daylight when he inspected the wound closer, it was completely mended without a single scar to mark where it had been. It didn’t mean that the spot didn’t burn with the memory of where you had touched him for that too-short moment.

Maybe burn wasn’t the right word. The best word he could use was yaim’la, the Mando’a word for comfort. But more like familiar, like being home. Which wasn’t a feeling Mando had felt in a very long time. He had no home.

You had still been drained by the healing, and he could see the dark circles under your eyes as you trudged beside him. But you never complained or asked him to slow his stride, and he grudgingly gave you some respect for that.

More curious was how you couldn’t quite meet his eyeline like you had before. When you spoke, your gaze seemed to fall just a bit short, like you were addressing the top of his helmet instead of the slit where his eyes were.

The only respite was when he chased down the Jawas’ moving fortress. He had managed to kill a few of the pests and had nearly breached the giant vehicle, but he had ultimately failed and fallen from it. The fall stunned him, knocked him unconscious for a moment.

Then he woke up, and his arm burned with the memory of your hand on him. Irritated, he marched back the Crest to find you and the asset curled up in the cockpit, and you both woke when he tried to turn his ship on. A useless effort: the engines were gone, as was the navigation system and the ignition switch.

-----

The evening was spent with Kulil. Once the situation was made clear to the Ugnaught and a plan was made, Mando pulled back from the rest of you. You and Kulil chatted amiably – you both seemed to be genuinely curious creatures – and Mando eavesdropped a little jealously. He wished he could speak as easily as Kulil.

You each spoke about your experiences under the yoke of the Empire: him as an indentured servant, little better than a slave. You as a hunted person with the rest of the remaining Lasats, hiding in the craggy mountains and pestering the outpost of imps who staffed the permanent base they built on your adopted planet.

Kulil asked about your childhood and what it was like being raised in another species, another culture. Mando tilted his head to listen to your answer – he had an idea what that might have been like. He had been a foundling too. He wondered if you had felt as lost as he had. If you still felt lost. At least he had the Way. You seemed to be completely alone, drifting whatever way the wind seemed to blow you, or whichever way your so-called channeling seemed to pull you.

“It was fine,” was all you said, but even the Mandalorian could hear the lie in your voice. You turned inward then, and Mando watched as your eyes shifted to the horizon. It was twilight on Arvala-7, and you got a sad, faraway look on your face. Kulil felt the shift in mood too, and the Ugnaught fell silent.

One by one, you each carved out your own places to sleep and turned in for the night. Mando just settled in against one of the walls of Kulil’s house – he could fall asleep anywhere. Besides, his spot gave him a prime view to watch you as you slept. When he reasoned with himself that he was just watching over you because he didn’t completely trust you, he almost believed it himself.

*****

You were already thinking of the Child as your ally, your co-conspirator.

When Mando bickered with the Jawas, when he tried to roast one and refused to deal with them, you caught yourself making eye contact with the little green creature, and you swore the two of you were thinking the same thing: Mando does things the hard way.

And because he did things the hard way, you found yourself tossed into the air and in the mud near the mudhorn’s lair. You had suggested that perhaps he scan the cave first, but no – Mando stalked into the cave without a backwards glance, and you had tried to step in to help….and you ended up bruised and stunned while the Child lifted the mudhorn into the air with the same power you used to channel and heal. You could feel that power crackling in the air, even with your head ringing and your thoughts muddled.

When Mando finally made his way over to you, you were seeing double. The sun glinted off his beskar helmet, and you squinted your eyes at him.

“Cyar’ika,” he spat angrily. “I told you to stay back with the kid.” He extended his hand and hoisted you to your feet. “Are you hurt?” he added, a little less rough.

“Fine,” you wheezed. You knew you’d have a constellation of bruises in the morning, but you wouldn’t admit that to Mando. Not when you’d finally exasperated him enough to make him swear in his native tongue.

Besides, the Child was slumped over in its pod, and it needed your attention more than thinking up a witty rejoinder for Mando.

*****

He stayed away from you as much as he could, after that. After that word slipped out of his mouth, unbidden. It was seeing you tossed by the mudhorn, seeing how hard you hit. How you didn’t move afterwards. How you didn’t move until he stood over you, his heart in this throat, only to be greeted by you squinting and smiling up at him.

Luckily, you didn’t seem to know what the word meant, and Mando tried to forget it. The job was almost over. He’d leave you on Navarro, complete the job, and return to his lonely life.

The problem? The more he watched you – with the unconscious Child, with the Razor Crest as you helped rebuild it (you hadn’t lied – you rebuilt both of the engines) – the more he wanted you to stay on. He’d readily admit to himself that this job had been made easier by your presence…and he was starting to admit that he liked your company.

By the time he was punching in the final coordinates for the approach to Navarro, Mando was ready to make a proposition to you. A deal, for you to stay on and work with him. His stomach was twisted and churning, and he could already feel the blood heating his face. For the thousandth time since meeting you, he was grateful for the helmet.

Mando landed the Crest, and he heard you leave the cockpit. He powered the craft down and followed you a moment later, and he found you standing beside the Child’s pod. Your face was wan but resolute, and you looked directly into his eyes. You were obviously gazing at the slit in his visor.

“You can’t finish this job,” you said simply. “You can’t hand the kid over to those…monsters.”

Mando wasn’t surprised. You had taken to the Child immediately, and after it revealed its power – similar to yours, apparently – you had gotten even more productive. He had prepared for this.

“I made a deal,” he replied.

You had prepared for him too, apparently. You gave a single nod and stepped between him and the pod. Never taking your eyes off of him, you pulled your bo-rifle from your back and snapped it into its staff formation. You didn’t turn it on yet.

“I don’t want to fight you, Mando,” you said, and he could hear the trembling in your voice. “But I will if I have to.”

The helmet hid the small smile that crossed his face. It wasn’t cruel or taunting – it was almost soft. “I don’t want to fight you either,” he replied.

“Why can’t we – “ you started, but that thought was cut off by Mando: lightning quick, faster than you could turn on your staff, the dart from his gauntlet found the soft skin of your neck. Your eyes widened a fraction as your hand flew up to finger the tiny dart, but you were already falling. Mando took two wide steps to catch you, and he didn’t miss the look of betrayal on your face before you fell asleep.

You’d get over. So would the kid. Everyone got left behind in the end.

The sedative should work for hours, and once you woke up, maybe you’d be more reasonable and open to business.

-----

When Mando returned to the Razor Crest, he was ready to check on you and wait out the rest of your long sleep. The payment for the job paid him enough beskar to remake his armor, plus extra for the foundlings. If his conscience prickled at leaving the Child behind…he pushed that aside.

You weren’t sleeping, though.

You were waiting for him.

With your bo-staff, turned on and crackling, and when you jumped out of the shadows and shocked him, Mando was taken aback by how furious you looked.

The shock wasn’t enough to seriously stun him, but it threw him onto his heels, and you took advantage of that. You, on the offensive, and Mando fighting off your flurry of strikes as you shouted at him.

“Was it worth it?” you yelled, hitting him hard in his vulnerable instep with the butt-end of your staff. “Worth it to turn an innocent creature over to the Empire?”

“You don’t – “ he started, but you cut him off with a hard chop to his forearm.

“They’re gonna kill it, just like they kill everything they touch!” You spun around to avoid his hand, grasping at you to still you, and Mando felt the shock when it landed on his back. Muted by the beskar, but still stinging.

“Stop!” he roared, and he threw his weight backwards to pin you against the inner hull of the Crest. Once pinned, he swiveled around and grabbed your wrist, and the staff clattered from your hand. The two of you stood like that – your face tilted up at his as you glared at him in pure fury. Your eyes were shiny with tears, and your chest was heaving – more from the effort to hold back your tears than from the effort of sparring with him.

“It was the job,” he said, a little quieter. “And this is the Way.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh, the Way.” You said it so sneeringly, Mando pulled back a fraction. You noted the movement and closed the gap and then some, until your face was close to his helmet. Through the visor, this close, he could see your eyes – the flecks of color in the irises that shifted as you blinked away the tears that kept springing up. Even angry – furious – you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Tell me, Mando. When you become a Mandalorian, what do they do first? Give you a helmet or tear out your heart and replace it with beskar?” You shook your head and pulled your wrist from his grasp. Swiped it across your eyes angrily. “What use is a Creed if you don’t use it to protect the helpless?”

You shoved past him to leave, and his hand shot out again to stop you. “Wait,” he tried, but you pulled against him and he pulled you back and you were stronger than he realized, and you both tumbled onto the hard crating of the Crest. You tried to scramble away from him, but he grabbed at your ankle.

Which made you rear back your other leg and kick him directly in the head. Hard.

It was enough to stun him, and you clambered to your feet and stood over him a moment. “I thought you were different. I saw you in a vision, and it didn’t have to end like this.”

And then you turned on your heel – sans your bo-rifle – and ran into the night.

-----

Everything that came after – rescuing you (while you were rescuing the kid), the fire-fight, the escape on the Crest with the aid of the Mandalorian covert – had felt right. Like his feet were on one of your paths that you had talked about.

Right now, though, he had to make it right with you. Even if you had teamed up to fight off the stormtroopers, mercenaries, and other bounty hunters, you sat in the co-pilot’s seat now and glared at him. As if returning for you and the kid wasn’t quite enough to make up for his betrayal. His eyes drifted to the lurid bruise on your neck from the dart, and he felt a sting of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You were right.”

You hadn’t been especially talkative before, but your silence now was heavier than the beskar armor he wore. It was palpable. It filled the cockpit and made it hard to breathe.

“You were right,” he repeated. “I don’t know what else to say to make it better.” He swiveled in his seat to face you.

There was a long moment of the two of you just staring. Well, you were staring at him, but Mando’s eyes were studying you – from your stony face to your palms laying on your knees. To your left foot, tapping on the floor.

“Fine,” you finally said, and your face relaxed a little. “So what next?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “We’ll need to stop for supplies. Then I say we lay low for a bit and regroup.” You nodded at that, so he continued.

“You were never trying to join the Guild, were you?” He wasn’t angry at your original lie, but he was curious.

You shook your head, and a faint blush rose in your cheeks. “I had a feeling about that building and the client. About the job.” You glanced at him and then looked past him. “I had a feeling about you.”

Mando tried to ignore the warm flush that sparked in him. “A feeling, or a vision?” he joked, though he wasn’t sure if it sounded joking through his modulator.

You smiled at him, then waved your hand. “Oh, those,” you said dismissively. “I have so many, it’s hard to tell what’s real. They’re only possible futures.”

“So no vision of a possible future like this?”

“Are you asking me if I ever saw myself on a pre-Empire gunship with a stubborn Mandalorian and a creature of unknown origins? No, I hadn’t seen that one before.” The thaw between you seemed complete now, judging by your teasing tone and the corner of your mouth quirked into a smirking little smile. After a beat, you yawned, covering it with the back of your hand.

“Come on,” he said. He stood up and motioned for you to follow him. You had been sleeping in the cargo hold, curled up on your pack and your cloak like a stray lothcat. He had started cleaning out the spare quarters bit by bit on the way back to Navarro. It had been a repository for junk, spare parts, but once cleaned, he hoped you might like it enough to consider it home.

Looking at it now with you by his side, Mando felt a sudden wave of uncertainty. Embarrassment. It was such a small space, just a narrow cot and small footlocker and a pair of tiny shelves. Far less than he wished he could give you, and that thought made him even more uncomfortable.

You seemed fine with the space, though. Happy, even. You gave a little cry of delight and ran off to gather your pack from the cargo hold, and then you came back.

“Thanks for this,” you said, and you reached out to squeeze his forearm in gratitude. Then you were in your new quarters, already unpacking your meager belongings, completely unaware how that lone touch of yours – even through the beskar gauntlet and the course canvas cloth underneath – set him ablaze.

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #tropes and tales

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sagechan · 1 year

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the Loth wolf

The white Loth cat and the Loth wolf as like, the embodiment of Lothal. The very planet itself fighting back against the Imperial occupation. No one has seen a Loth wolf in a hundred years, but now that its world is in danger, it returns. "All paths are coming together," says Kanan. "Doom," the Loth wolf says to Ezra. Or is it saying, "Dume," the true name of Ezra's master. Ezra who can see the wolf when no one else can. Ezra who can see what is coming. Ezra who all along has been able to connect with animals, with nature, with creatures the Empire wouldn't give a second thought about stepping over or stepping on, yet these creatures carry in them ancient memory, the world's memory, a memory of freedom, a memory of light. All paths are coming together. Call it the Force, call it Ashla and Bogan, call it the Universe, call it Nature, call it Good and Evil. There are greater forces at work than just the will of the Empire. There are worlds with histories, and the creatures who remember. There is a hill covered in the sweet grass nourished by the good rains, and touched by a slow wind. There is a bright sun rising. And on the hill there is a wolf, marked clear against the rising of the light. The world goes on, as it did long before this evil occupied these lands, and as it will long, long after that evil is gone.

#star wars rebels #ezra bridger #loth wolf #lothal #star wars #also thinking about the parallel to the title of this episode: 'Flight of the Defender'#how you're made to think it's referring the TIE Defender and Ezra and Sabine flying in it #but how 'flight' can also be used to mean 'flee'#and how the Loth wolf appears right when Ezra and Sabine need to flee #how it takes them on its back and flees with them across the plains #the flight of the defender being the flight of the Loth wolf: Lothal's defender #and Ezra too. Ezra as the defender #almost all his choices are driven by his desire to defend his family his people his home #god this episode...this entire show #I will not survive this

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heart-of-a-rebel16 · 2 months

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Oohh!! Doulos and the Mermaid au? 👀

Doulos for you my dear Salamander!

For the uninformed, Doulos is basically my take on Zeb’s backstory. I’ve touched on it briefly in some Whumptober/Febuwhump fics (which you can find here!). At this point in the story, the Spectres have received information about a secret mission they’ve been given.

Ezra spun in his chair lazily. “Have they told us where we’re going yet?”

“Or even what the mission is?” Sabine piped up. “I don’t get why Command has to be so secret about all this.”

“This mission is sensitive, kids.” Hera clacked away on a few keys. A loading bar appeared on the Ghost’s display, fizzing placidly. “Draven didn’t want to risk even a peep of this getting out.”

Zeb wrinkled his nose, and felt his ears twitch uncomfortably. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. To fly into Ashla-knows-where without the slightest bit of prep on what their mission could be worried him, if he were honest.

Kallus must have noticed how his ears flicked. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll be more than prepared to face it.” He punctuated his declaration with a soft pat on Zeb’s forearm. It was a comfort, however small. A beeping noise interrupted the cm creation; the debrief had been fully uploaded to the Ghost’s computers. “Speak of the Bogan,” Hera smiled. Pivoting in her chair, she leaned in to sound off their mission.

“Looks like we’re on our way to…”

Hera’s voice died off. Her wide eyes scanned the text, bouncing from line to line, mouth a bit agape. Something shifted in the room, something that slid from the bright energy of the cockpit to something darker, heavier. In the corner, Kanan tilted his head.

“Hera? What’s wrong?” he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Hera, talk to us. Read me the report.”

Hera’s eyes were still wide, unmoving, trained on one word. Zeb’s heart skipped a beat. Not much could strike the great Hera Syndulla dumb.

Ezra stood up, brow wrinkled. “Hera?” he asked softly. “Kanan asked what was wrong.” He took a tentative step forward, then another and another until he was right behind Hera, looming over her shoulder.

Sabine shot a look at Zeb; he only saw it out of the corner of his eye. For some reason he could not hope, not even want to understand, he too was entranced by the report. Or rather, by Hera.

“Ez,” Kanan asked. “Would you read the report for us?”

Ezra nodded, and Zeb could detect a bit of nervousness in his motions. Peaking over the side of Hera’s chair, he began to recite the report.”

“Your mission, of the utmost secrecy and importance, must not be compromised. After this information is uploaded to your server, it cannot be accessed again,” Ezra read. Mumbling under his breath, he slipped the next few lines.

“…rendezvous with a high-ranking Imperial defector on the planet of Doulos.” Ezra wrinkled his nose and leaned back. “What in the galaxy is Doulos?”

#Yay!!!#star wars rebels #swr #sw rebels #asks and replies

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seth-shitposts · 5 months

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Oooohhhh, I wanna know about Force User Zeb and The Eyes of the Ashla 👀👀

Absolutely friend 🫂💙💙💙

Force User Zeb

For FUZ, it's from when we participated in Bahryn Festival 2023. We're taking a break from it, but I'll share some things about it.

We want to explore how cultures who are separated from the main region/mainstream cultivated their relationships with the force. In this AU, Zeb is force sensitive, but having grown up on his home planet, his parents chose to have him follow tradition of nurturing his connection to the ashla by learning from the Revered Masters.

[In the fic, somewhere we're going to explain that with Jaro Tapal, that was an attempt/mutual reaching out. Lasan being isolated by how far out they are, decided to exchange their love and respect to The Force/Ashla. Things were going well with them building a connection until it was severed by order 66. To protect themselves and after losing one of their own and an entire community that they trusted, they returned to their isolation. They were friendly to those in neighboring systems, but that was it.]

In this, Kanan and Zeb had been so crucial to bringing each other back into recommiting faith to the Force&Ashla. It's another thing that brought them close. And it had been catalysted by Hera.

We're going to incorporate the new concept Sebastián and I thought of, the sentient bo-rifles. Force User Zeb would be the perfect place for us to utilize it. Especially with how in this AU, Zeb has the psychometry ability!

Hondo is going to make several appearances. Because we want to build more upon the lasat prophecy and Hondo was such a key element to that. I want to keep to that theme through the story.

Which brings us to:

At one point, something that we've had in mind for the au since starting it, Hondo steals an artifact off an imperial black market smuggler. He has not a clue what it is. Whatever it is has something to do with Lasan [& The Ashla]. He tells kallus about how he can't get anyone to buy it. Kallus offers to make him food in exchange for it (so he can safely return it to Zeb. Kallus wants it out of imperial circulation entirely. So he wants it to return to the person who has the most right to it).

But the moment kallus touches it, it binds to him. Both through the ashla and physically. At first he thinks it's just stuck on him. It's not until later that he realizes that it has more to it than that. Ashla shenanigans ensue and Kallus routinely gets sent to a pocket of space/time where he meets with both a form of The Grand Inquisitor & The previous bearer of his bo-rifle.

We might revamp what we have so far, but it's still in debate between Sebastián and I. What might happen is that we could turn what we have up atm into a concept dump and proceed similarly as we have been doing with Defectors AU. Quilting it. It's been how we've gotten the most worn done and are still highly committed to it. Trying to work on a fic by only doing it a chapter at a time/in story chronological order is the main reason why it went into hiatus. Its very difficult for us to write a longer story in that way. (Which is why I'm so relieved we've learned more about quilting and have been able to do it intentionally.)

---

The Eyes Of The Ashla

We had been hoping to have this done for Halloween. As a Halloween special type thing.

@lost-in-derry gave us the prompt/concept and we started molding it. I'm still looking forward to it.

The concept we're doing is that Kallus has had the ability to see wisps, purple wisps, for as long as he could remember. He was never sure what they were. He found out early in life that only he could see or interact with them.

On Lasan, he realizes *exactly* what they are. Because he had never seen so many in one place. And they kept multiplying.

A big part of the concept and this fic is that the wisps are Bogan spirits, unrested or trapped. Kallus is tasked with guiding the wisps back to the light- to the Ashla, bringing them peace. Once he helps the first one, he just keeps going. Slowly but surely becoming much more intentionally about it. He doesn't fully understand it all, but the wisp of the guardsman he fought is a bit of a guide for him. The Bogan [in this au] contains the fury and wrath of injustices and Kallus slowly realizes this at some point after Lasan.

It's force sensitive kallus with a twist. There's much more to it, our notes are just scattered on it atm. Here's a snippet though.

#force user zeb #star wars rebels #swr #garazeb orrelios #alexsandr kallus #star wars #wip ask game

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nyxgoddessofstars · 5 months

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Doctor appointment and gifts.

Pairing: Captain Rex X Ahsoka Tano

Era: Rebels / Rebellion

Notes: hello there this story takes place a month after surprises and kiss and rex lost his leg and sight it's but way way before little'un

Summary: this is ahsoka first doctor appointment that rex will come with her and rex has a gift for her.

Word count:881

Credit to saradika- graphics for the dividers.

Ahsoka smiled at her asleep husband who had white bandages covering his eyes and rex spoke his voice still rough with sleep one of his hands going on ahsoka four month pregnant belly.

"what'c are you staring at cyar'ika I thought you had to get ready for your appointment"

Ahsoka smiled and rubbed a hand thought rex's hair and spoke before kissing the part of the banged that were covering his nose.

"I wanted to see how long it would take me staring at you to wake you up and did you forget your coming with me today"

Rex spoke as he pushed him self into a sitting position and then kissing her lips softly as Ahsoka moved to grab her robe.

"I guess I did so how long do we have before we have to leave to go to the appointment"

Ahsoka smiled as she wrapped her robe around her self and spoke removing the blanket from her side of the bed and kissing rex.

"an hour I just need to get in the shower and your free to join me if you want just to tell you their are stromtroops if you ignore them they'll do the same for you"

rex just shrug his shoulder and got out of bed and kissed ahsoka with love and removed her robe as they de clothed each other as they walked to the refresher.

Ahsoka dried of as rex pulled out his razor and she spoke as rex looked at as he fixed the razor on his face.

"rex do you need help with that remember the last time you tried to shave by your self"

Rex spoke handing ahsoka his razor and ahsoka smiled and made rex kneel down.

"yeah and you don't have to do this for me"

Ahsoka smiled and kissed rex scar that made him go blind and spoke moving the razor.

"I don't mind and it's pretty easy I learned how to use this tpye of razor when you need to shave your head"

Rex smiled and kissed ahsoka stomach softly and ahsoka smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.

Rex smiled as ahsoka led him to a building and entered it and walked to the desk and a twi'lek woman looked at ahsoka and spoke.

"hello what the name for your appointment"

Ahsoka spoke and rex held her hand and ahsoka looked at him as she was handed a flat data pad.

"Ashla Tano"

The twi'lek woman smiled and spoke as rex just looked at ahsoka baby bump.

"alright it'll be a couple of minutes before they call your name"

Ahsoka thanked her and walked to a couch and sat down with rex sitting beside her and rex spoke loud enough so ahsoka could hear him as she filled out her paper work.

"soka I didn't know your doctor appointment would be in the core worlds"

Ahsoka spoke under here breath and touched her stomach speaking softly.

"well they have great doctors so yeah I know how dangerous it can be"

Rex just sighed and kissed her forehead.

Ahsoka smiled as her and rex walked out of the doctor office and leading rex to a empty allay away and spoke looking at the tears running down rex's face taking off his eye cover

"See rex she perfectly healthy and I was right she a girl or what ever she wants to be but a girl"

Rex spoke as ahsoka wiped away his tears and kissed the scar over his eyes.

"yeah soka you were right"

Ahsoka smiled and spoke as rex hugged her close

"come on rex we know we need supply so we can meet up at the edge of the city and walk back to the ship okay"

Rex sighed and kissed ahsoka forehead and spoke putting back on his eye cover.

"alright just be safe because this place is ruining with stromtroops"

Rex stepped into a jewelry shop and a he found a necklace and a ring. The ring was for ahsoka because he never got the chance to buy her one when they got married. And the necklace was for their unborn daughter a mandolin rex had a felling like she was going follow in her papa footsteps rex brought the ring and necklace and walked out of the shop.

Rex found ahsoka standing at the edge of town he walked up to her and she spoke sounding worried.

"rex we're were you I thought you got caught up with stormtroopers"

Rex pulled out the box with the ring in it and spoke open it up.

"sorry soka I want to get you and her something I know the ring isn't that much but I still hope you like it"

Ahsoka gasped and took the ring box into her hands it was beautiful metal work that had to v shape in the middle and a beautiful stones from Tara and she spoke as rex took back the box and took out the ring and slipped it back on her finger.

"rex you didn't need to buy this for me"

Rex smiled and kissed her fore head and spoke touching her stomach and smiled as his daughter pressed her force pressing against his.

"yes I did you're doing the job of carrying our daughter so I need to treat you right"

Ahsoka smiled and kissed rex on the cheek before taking his hand and walking back to the ship happy about how their paths were going in the same direction.

Hi so this took me a while to write but here it is and sorry it getting posted so late. And the planet the stones ahsoka ring has is one I came up with.

My write and art ideas leaving my body.

#ahsoka tano #captain rex #star wars #rexsoka #star wars rebels #Force sensitive rex

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prvtocol · 1 year

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@commandsir : ( Ashoka Tano as Ashla Terrik ) : whatever you're about to do, don't do it. | meme tag ✿

The Coruscant headquarters of the Imperial Bank is as grandiose as one expects and as sterile and protected as a grand vault should be. But the stormtroopers standing as sentinels and aligning the grounds like armed columns are blissfully forgotten in one of the inner sanctums — a retreat for employees to loiter on break and enjoy the decorative foliage and artificial sunlight.

At a small round table adorned as a few others with a white marble chess board at its center, the loan manager sits across from the new hire, Ashla Terrik. As fingers pinch the cool top of one of the pawns, her hesitance, betrayed by biting her lower lip, is cheekily called out by Ashla.

“Oh. You’re going to make me double-think, are you?” Retort is drawled in pure amusement before touch retreats from the pawn to reconsider her strategy (if she even has one). Sans a competitive bone in her body, Brianne never takes these games too seriously — though she tries for the sake of being a good sport. “Oh bother. We’ll just do that then.” A different pawn is slid diagonally instead.

“So.” Forthcoming inquiry comes amid leaning back in her chair, regaining the honed rigidity of her posture. Small hands refold elegantly in her lap; the polished decorum of her upper-class upbringing. Despite the gloss, her manner of engagement is utterly sincere. “How is it going so far? And be honest. When I started I was overwhelmed, to say the least.”

#commandsir #⚘ ˚◞ answers ◞ 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓊𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝒸 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎.#⚘ ˚◞ verse˚ star wars ◞ 𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓈𝓎𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁.#⚘ ˚◞ imperial era ◞ .#(( hope this works for what we chatted about 💛#if anything needs changing pls let me know ))

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fanfictasia · 2 years

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Swoon June Day 11

Pet Names

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Heartbound

“I don’t deserve you,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. “I don’t – Ash, I love you so much. So much.”

Her lips curve up into a smile, and her eyes are soft. “I know. Me too. I’ll always love you, too.” She pauses for a moment, before saying, “Anak’i.”

He gives her a questioning look. “What does that mean?”

“It’s Togruti.” Her grin borders on impish. “It means ‘my home.’ Kinda fits you, don’t you think?” For the second time this evening, Ashla renders him speechless.

“Ash,” he breathes reverently, pressing a hand over hers where it rests on his chest. “My light.”

“Don’t say you don’t deserve me,” Ashla replies. “You do. You’re the best person I know. You care so much about everyone, whether they deserve it or not. If anything, I don’t deserve you.”

Anakin swallows. “I thought you only wanted to be around me because of my looks,” he jokes.

“Oh yes. How did you figure it out?” she deadpans. “I only care about you because of your stunning good looks. Definitely. No other reason.”

He shoves her lightly. “Shut up.”

She giggles, shoving him in retaliation. “Anak’i,” she repeats slowly, the syllables rolling off her tongue with a slightly stronger accent as she enunciates them. “What do you think?”

He holds her eyes, feeling a wave of sheer devotion crash over him. He answers her question by kissing her, lightly, tenderly. She deepens it, seeming perfectly content to ignore the fact that they’re technically still in public, and he pulls away, panting, when one of her hands slips onto his thigh. Her touch, especially right now, like this, is driving him crazy, and he refuses to do anything stupid or inappropriate in public.

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not0a0mundane · 7 months

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Made a new chapter for the Ashla Au!

#star wars #star wars rebels #Alexsandr Kallus #agent kallus #kanan jarrus #kalluzeb #< target audience

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kattywhumpazz · 7 years

Photo

secretagenttwilek ‘s female lasat character. I know so little about her. Don’t even know her name yet! Just wanted to draw her to get this lasat lovin’ fan to write! I love reading about these aliens, especially ones who know Zeb!

This tumblr user and I both recognized that Zeb’s funny high-hat and uniform was taken from the works of Moebus. I thought that was cool. Check it out!

My first attempt with the new photoshop and new tablet. they are both a little quirky, but I am learning.

#lasat #gift for fan-fic author #ashla-touched

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boomerang109 · 2 years

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me, all of break: this break is taking forever it’s just one long never ending mental illness break

me, now: shit im going back to school in four days im not ready

#literally break could’ve been so awesome I had all of these goals and I accomplished none of them #so i keep being like oh should I try to do ALL those things in the next four days? and the answer is NO just pack and hang out with your dad #but part of my brain is like yes boom #try to FaceTime all the friends you’ve been ignoring (especially Clara and ashla but including many many others) try to see irl who lives #upstate but also try to convince that irl to come to the city cause you had a whole city day you wanted to do and didn’t do #and oh get paid for my work in June #yeah those were all my goals for break #(that and going to the dentist but like I’m not gonna get a dentist appt in four days so that ship has sailed. fuck my teeth 😰)#literally when was the last time I even talked to my mother #or my BROTHER #literally I feel like he mentioned he might be moving to Arizona snd like I had no idea if that’s happening #like if you’re friends with me and are upset that I’m bad at keeping in touch that’s valid cause i AM a shitty friend #but please understand that the baseline is me not knowing my own brothers living situation or what city my mother is currently in #like last time I checked my mother was in [REDACTED] but that was like….a week ago? and she’s traveling so I doubt she’s still there #so if i literally could not tell you where my mother is. the fact that I haven’t responded to you is not personal I promise #wait actually using my brain I KNOW she’s not in [REDACTED] cause she sent me a photo when she was somewhere different. I don’t actually #remember where she was. I just know it wasn’t [REDACTED]. it was actually in between [REDACTED] and my college city cause that’s where she’s #making her way to slowly cause she’s gonna be at school when I get there #and it like occurred to me she could hang out for move in. cause I have to clean. but also. NO #my mother has not been in my college dorm and I don’t plan on showing it to her until it’s clean #okay my laundry finally finished so tag rant over #life of a boomerang

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solrika · 2 years

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Set post-a-reveal. Not sure which, this conversation after was more important to my writing brain.

“Most Imperial defectors put on weight once they settle in,” Zeb said, slowly running his thumb over the protruding nub of Kallus’ wrist bone. “You, though…” He looked up, brows furrowing and ears pulling back in a frown. “You’ve been starving, haven’t you?”

Grimacing, Kallus looked away. “Not quite, but… I’ve been hungrier than I was in the Empire, yes.” He managed a lopsided smile. “You Rebels are too nice. Every time I thought I’d found someone safe to–to take from, I discovered another person who’d miss them when they were gone.”

Zeb’s frown deepened. “Do you always have to kill to eat?”

Kallus thought of the shimmering underside of Osa’s wrist, of the pale column of Pedaari’s neck. Of countless stormtroopers, casually shucking their gloves. “No. Well. Not usually.” He swallowed, a small, convulsive movement. This close, he could hear the blood rushing under the Lasat’s skin. “Right now–I’m not safe, Zeb. I’m too hungry to control myself.”

“But you could back in the Empire,” Zeb said, face unreadable.

Kallus couldn’t help a mirthless chuckle. “Of course. They take care of their weapons.” He reached out, tapping a point on his forearm. The black skin had already stretched past it, inching up his bicep. “We used to think this was me starving. I was so–” Shaking his head, he gently tugged his hand out of Zeb’s grip. “It’s fine. Chopper’s been stealing me blood when it gets too bad, and as soon as I get cleared for fieldwork, I’ll have access to… safer options.”

“The droid’s been–” Kallus had thought Zeb’s ears were already as flat as they could go, but apparently not. “You trusted Chopper with this?”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Kallus snorted, remembering being woken from a hungry stupor by a shrill, alarmed scream, and later, bags of blood pushed in his face. “It was a bit of an accident. I’m still not sure how he broke into my room.” He wiggled the fingers of his gloved hand. “He stole me these, too.”

“Of course you only told the droid,” Zeb sighed, rolling his eyes skyward as if asking the Ashla for patience.

Stung, Kallus snapped, “You call him a monster often enough that I felt a sense of camaraderie.” Tugging on his other glove, he added, “Anyway. You can reassure Hera that she doesn’t have to worry about me disappearing Rebels in the middle of the night. I’m going back to work.”

“We–” Zeb sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s not what we’re worried about, Kal.”

Resisting the urge to hiss in frustration–no need to let Zeb know all the ways he differed from a proper human yet—Kallus said, “Then what?”

Zeb reached out as if to snag the sleeve of his jacket, paused, sat back as if he had thought better.

It was an expected rejection, but it still hurt, the anxious turn of his stomach threatening to make his fangs drop. I’m the only one who accepts you, Pedaari had said, and he hadn’t been right, exactly–Osa had stubbornly been the exception-–but he certainly hadn’t been wrong. “You obviously don’t trust me enough to touch me anymore,” Kallus gritted out. “So what. What else could it be?”

“Karabast, Kal, I was trying to give you space,” Zeb groaned. “You’re more skittish than a feral tooka.” His tail flicked out, curling firmly around Kallus’ calf. “There, see. I’m not afraid of you, you self-sacrificing idiot.” He gave a gentle tug, and when Kallus reluctantly stepped within grabbing distance, hauled him back down to the bench with an arm around his shoulders. “We’re worried about you, Kallus.”

Zeb’s blood was a rushing river in his ears. It must be why he’d misheard.

“What,” Kallus said, flatly.

“You think we haven’t noticed you wasting away?” Zeb gave him a gentle shake. Kallus kept himself from burying his nose in the crook of his neck only with an iron force of will. “Even Ezra’s been concerned. Says you’re weaker in the Force than usual.”

“I’m still fine as an operative–”

“Oh, for–” Zeb grabbed Kallus’ face in his hands. The wash of warmth was startling enough that Kallus couldn’t help closing his eyes, sagging into the touch. When he opened his eyes again, it was to find Zeb’s bright green ones inches from his face.

“Look at me,” the Lasat continued. “We. Care. About. You. Not about your value as a–a weapon, or an intelligence agent, or whatever. We care about our Kal, who burns waffles and keeps a frighteningly tidy room, who knows when to switch Hera’s caf for decaf, or–or burn off Ezra’s energy with a sparring match, or will listen to Sabine talk about art for hours–” He shook his head. “Kal. We don’t want you to starve for us.”

Kallus swallowed, mouth dry. “I’m a danger to the Jedi.” Just the thought of Force-rich blood made his fangs ache.

Zeb rolled his eyes. “The Jedi are a danger to the Jedi, with the stunts those two pull off.”

Well. Kallus couldn’t exactly argue that point.

“Do you know Hera and Kanan are already putting together a list of slavers to raid?” Zeb continued. “There are options other than just–” He gave Kallus’ face a gentle shake. “No more starving, okay? We won’t stand for it.”

There was too little liquid left in Kallus’ system for his body to even consider crying, but his throat went tight anyway. “Alright,” he managed.

“Holding you to that,” Zeb said, more serious than Kallus knew what to do with. “If I hug you, will you freak out?”

“I might bite you,” Kallus admitted, looking away as much as he could with two large Lasat hands holding his face in place.

“I can hug you from behind.”

“That’ll work,” Kallus croaked, his poor desiccated heart doing something painful.

“Good,” and then Zeb was lifting him, turning him, folding him up in warm fur and soft muscle and a purr that reverberated down to Kallus’ bones. He’d never get used to just how strong the Lasat was. But that was fine–it was a nice surprise, every time. And to finally be warm–

Kallus couldn’t purr, but he could go boneless.

“There you go,” Zeb murmured, managing to hold him impossibly closer. “So here’s the plan: Chopper’ll get you another blood bag, and then we’ll go kick some slaver’s shebs, and you can finally fill up. And we’ll do that again whenever you need to eat.”

“More trouble than I’m worth.”

“Nah.” Zeb set his chin on the top of Kallus’ head. “You’re not.”

Maybe Pedaari was more wrong than he’d thought.

#star wars #star wars rebels #fanfic #vampire kallus #kalluzeb

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mrs-ben-kenobi · 3 years

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The Warrior

Zeb Orrelios x reader

Word count: 3.8k

Note: This takes place during Legends of the Lasat. There are implications of smut but no actual smut (another time, another place).

You knew everything would change for Zeb the second you saw the two Lasat emerge from the cargo container. Knew it from the wide-eyed look on his face as he realized he was no longer alone, the utter shock in his voice as he gasped out, "My people," the extra conviction with which he then proceeded to knock out the stormtroopers holding them at blasterpoint.

After that, meeting the Lasat refugees didn't exactly go as expected.

"It is him. Captain Orrelios," the male Lasat said, immediately recognizing Zeb.

"By the Ashla. The prophecy!" gasped the older, much shorter female Lasat who held a mystical-looking staff.

Those were the first words out of either of their mouths since being rescued. Zeb looked rattled, to say the least.

"Captain?" Ezra questioned, just as surprised and confused as everyone else in the room.

Everyone but you.

"Yes. Captain Garazeb Orrelios of the Lasan High Honor Guard," the woman responded as she and her companion advanced toward Zeb and bowed before him.

Zeb backed away uneasily, motioning for them to stop until, defeated, he groaned and put his head in his hand. You knew how hard this must have been for Zeb to have them doing this in front of everyone—calling him out and revealing his well-concealed past; he must have hated it. But, you had to admit, it did amuse you a little to see the two Lasat praising him like this. The silence that followed was broken only by Hondo's rambling in the background.

"Thought I was just about the last of us," Zeb said after he recovered. "How is this possible?"

"Do you remember me, Captain?" the male Lasat asked.

"You look familiar."

"Gron. I served under you in the guard." He motioned to the ancient woman beside him. "This is Chava the Wise."

"Oh, yeah, I know who she is."

"I didn't know you were a captain," said Ezra, still taken aback.

"He never told any of us," Hera said.

Except, he had already told you; you were just really good at keeping secrets. Zeb had confided in you one night when you were up late, just laying together and talking as you often did. You had asked about his life before joining the Ghost crew. Despite forging a close bond with him, you didn't actually know all that much about him since he never talked about his past. He was hesitant to tell you anything at first; you had clearly broached a sensitive subject. But he must have decided he could trust you because, eventually, he was getting into everything from the day he joined the Honor Guard to the day he escaped the wreckage of the royal palace after the Empire blew it up—what he considered to be his greatest failure. He held himself responsible for what happened—even if there was no way he could have stopped it, which you were quick to tell him—and was ashamed of that. You were the only one he'd ever told that to. But he wasn't ready for anyone else to know, so you had kept his secret safe. Only now, it was out in the open for everyone to see, and you knew Zeb must have been dying inside because of it. You inconspicuously put a comforting hand on him to let him know you were there for him. He seemed to automatically relax the slightest bit at your touch despite the awkward situation.

"It was so long ago, I... I forgot," he fibbed, looking uncomfortable.

"We have not," said Chava.

Yes, that much was clear.

Later, back in the safety of the Ghost, you all gathered in the cockpit, the blue, swirling majesty of hyperspace filling the viewport. Since then, you had made a narrow escape from a squadron of stormtroopers that ambushed you on your way out of Nixus Hub, thanks to Hondo—big surprise there.

"Okay, so where is this new world we're taking you?" Hera asked the two newcomers.

Chava had spoken of a place earlier: a prophesied world that was supposedly safe for the Lasat, where she believed they were destined to go. Zeb hadn't bought a word of it.

"We do not yet have the location of Lira San," Chava answered.

"We have maps if you need 'em."

"There is no Lira San, Hera," said Zeb, just as cynical as he was earlier. "It's a myth, an old legend."

Ignoring him, Chava announced, "The time has come to prepare the ritual that will guide us to our new home."

Zeb rolled his eyes. Ezra caught that and gave him a disapproving look before turning his attention to Chava.

"Come on. I'll help you get set up," he offered as if everything she was saying was perfectly logical.

Zeb watched him take her out of the room and sighed. "Better go make sure they don't drive that kid crazy."

"I'll come with," you said, following behind, curious to see what this ritual entailed.

"They might drive you crazy too."

You just rolled your eyes and prodded him along. When you got to the lounge, you could hear Chava saying, "I'm not weird!" followed by Chopper's questioning grumble. You had to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. To set up for her ritual, Chava proceeded to make drawings on the floor, going on to explain how the Ashla, a.k.a. the Force, had led them there. She expanded more on the prophecy she'd mentioned earlier, which spoke of a child, a warrior, and a fool, whose fate was somehow tied to the discovery of Lira San. Supposedly, their world could only be found when “the child saved the warrior and the fool.”

"Well, I have no idea who the fool is, and I only see one child," Zeb said. "And you're not rescuing this warrior," he added, referring to himself.

Chava continued preparing the ritual, and Zeb continued making snide remarks about it. When Chava was ready, she asked Ezra to join. His response to the entire situation was the complete opposite of Zeb’s; he seemed to take it all very seriously, joining Gron on the floor and instantly immersing himself in the ritual. As Ezra chanted along with Chava and Gron, you weren’t quite sure what to think. Everyone else just seemed to be going along with it all, but Zeb was so disbelieving that he seemed almost angry about it. You had a hunch as to why; it wasn’t just mere skepticism. As for you, you didn’t know what to believe. But if you’d learned anything from being around two Jedi, it was that the Force was real, and it worked in mysterious ways. So, if anyone was destined to lead the Lasat to this new, hidden world, it probably was Zeb. He was fed up, though; shaking his head at the three chanting, he stormed out of the room. You were about to follow him, but Ezra spotted him and was already on it, so you decided to let him try talking to Zeb. Then, you rethought that and decided maybe you should go make sure they didn't kill each other. As you neared Zeb's room, you could hear a snatch of their conversation.

"...couldn't have stopped the Empire."

"I fought to the end! We held the palace. And then there was a bomb..."

You paused outside the door, not wanting to interrupt their moment. You'd heard all this from him already. You hadn't judged him the way he judged himself; you tried to comfort him and tell him there was nothing more he could've done. It didn't make a difference, though. He'd already made up his mind, and nothing you could've said would've changed it.

"I can't imagine. I lost my parents, but you must have lost everyone. But at least you're alive, and you've got a chance to help your people again."

"They called me Captain. I don't deserve to be called that! I failed my people that day."

"So don't fail them now."

There was a pause after that. You wondered if Ezra's words had gotten through to Zeb. The next thing you knew, Ezra was nearly running into you coming out of the room. He gave you a little nod, conveying a silent mission accomplished before passing by. Zeb, right behind him, slowed to a stop when he saw you.

"He's right, you know," you told him. "We believe in you, Zeb. It's time you started believing in yourself."

He looked caught off guard for a second as he pondered what you'd said. Zeb wasn't what you'd call a particularly sappy person, so he didn't exactly know how to respond. But you saw in the way his expression softened how much it meant to him.

"Come on," he said, putting his hand on the small of your back and moving you in the direction of the lounge.

You smiled to yourself, feeling relieved. Maybe this would be his chance to redeem himself in his eyes after all the time he'd spent punishing himself.

When you rejoined the others, they were all gathered around a map of the galaxy's star systems. You were glad to see that Zeb was in a better mood and ready to participate, no matter how weird he felt about the whole situation. You shook your head as he bickered with Ezra as usual, this time because Chava declared Zeb, not Ezra, to be the child spoken of in the prophecy. Well, at least he was back to his normal self.

Chava addressed Zeb then. "Your bo-rifle, as the ancients used it."

You soon found out what that meant when Zeb took his bo-rifle out and proceeded to reassemble it, extending it and transforming it into something entirely different. The rest of you watched in fascination as he brought the end of the bo-rifle down to the middle of the star map to meet Chava's staff. They instantly formed some kind of connection, producing a bright eruption of electricity that basked the whole room in a yellow ambiance. Abruptly, the bo-rifle shuddered, and Zeb had to reinforce his grip on it. The surge of light grew brighter as it centered on a small cluster of star systems. It was blinding and beautiful; you were in absolute awe.

"Those systems are beyond the Outer Rim, in Wild Space. Not on any map," Kanan noted.

Unconcerned, Chava simply replied, "The child must show us the way."

Zeb kept the bo-rifle steady as you all moved in a little closer around the center of the sparking light, mystified. At last, a single star system separated from the rest, its holoimage glowing bright, the electricity from the bo-rifle striking it like lightning as if to point to it.

"That's it. Lira San."

And just like that, you were traveling through uncharted space, on your way to a mysterious planet that no one even knew existed. After the ritual was over, Hera and Sabine headed to the cockpit, and the rest of you got comfortable in the lounge for what was going to be a long trip. You sat with Zeb, content for the time being to relax and listen as stories were shared while you waited to arrive at what would hopefully be Lira San. You were just beginning to doze off when you felt the shudder of the ship, immediately followed by the frantic beeping of alarms. Shortly afterward, the ship was pulled from hyperspace. Startled, you made your way to the cockpit with the others to be met with the sight of a giant imploded star cluster in front of the viewscreen. It was completely blocking the path; there was no way around it. Unsurprisingly, Chava recognized it as yet another part of the prophecy: the maze that she had failed to mention. And to make matters worse, Agent Kallus' ship just emerged out of hyperspace right behind you, once again, thanks to Hondo. He was giving you the usual threats of surrender or death, except this time, there was really nowhere to escape.

"I can't believe this. Kallus has got us," Zeb said, disbelieving.

"He plays his part, as warrior," Chava stated.

"Wait, he is the warrior? And I got stuck being the child?"

"There are many warriors, fools, and children, Captain. The child in you can't see how things are, but how they can be. The fool denies his destiny, but it is the warrior you are who will create one. You are never one of these. In time, you become all of them."

You understood now why they called her Chava the Wise.

Zeb thought that through for a moment, her words seeming to resonate deeply with him.

You could see his resolve as he said, "Ezra, bring me my bo-rifle."

"What are you thinkin', buddy?" Kanan asked.

"You can do this, Zeb," Ezra told him as he handed him the bo-rifle. "I know it.

Zeb activated it. "Just like the ancients used it."

"Your time is up, rebels," Kallus warned over the comm.

Zeb locked eyes with you, and you gave him an encouraging nod. Be the warrior, Zeb. He nodded back in acknowledgment before striding determinedly over to the console and slamming his bo-rifle down in front of it, letting it connect with the Ghost. It generated a surge of electricity even more powerful than before. Sabine and Hera were alarmed.

"Zeb, what are you doing?"

"Leading the way."

"Zeb!"

"Trust me, Hera."

You couldn't deny how much seeing him take charge like this—not to mention, the way he handled that bo-rifle—was turning you on. Zeb was using its mysterious power to navigate the ship straight toward the star cluster, and somehow, the ship wasn't being broken into pieces yet. At some point, he picked the bo-rifle back up and slammed it straight onto the console instead, causing it to flare impossibly brighter. Ezra and Kanan joined in, each placing a hand on Zeb's shoulders to add their own strength. As the ship got closer and closer to the star cluster, you got more and more nervous, but you had to trust that Zeb knew what he was doing. He would get you all through this alive.

"I see it! The way through!" Zeb declared.

Hera checked the nav comp. "I don't know how, but the hyperdrive is activating!"

Then suddenly, you were all met with a blinding flash of light as the ship tore its way through to hyperspace, straight into the star cluster. You had to shield your eyes, hoping against hope that this wasn't the end. The moment dragged on, getting increasingly intense as Zeb struggled to harness the power of the bo-rifle—

You were confused when you woke up. It took you a few seconds to get your bearings and remember what was happening when you were last conscious. And then it registered: you had made it through the star cluster, alive. Zeb had done it. Speaking of Zeb, you looked over to see him slumped over the console, passed out. Kanan, Ezra, and Gron were already rushing over to help him up. You quickly got up yourself and were relieved to see him coming to, holding his hand to his head.

"Hey, buddy. You hurt?" Ezra was the first to ask.

Sighing, Zeb answered, "I've had worse." Then, turning to look out the viewport at the sun shining through clouds in the hazy sky, he added, "I've never seen better. We're home."

Zeb had taken the Phantom to bring Chava and Gron down to the surface, and you had been waiting on him for quite some time. Should you have been worried? You got up from your seat in the cockpit and started pacing up and down. Because you had to do something. Zeb had been with you all for so long; there was no way he would ever leave without at least saying goodbye. It was silly to even think. But, what you weren't so sure about now was whether or not he would want to stay on Lira San. You guys were his friends. You, in particular, much more than that. And he lived for this life. But, he had always believed that he was the last of his kind, and now that he knew he wasn't, would he still want to be one of the Spectres? His destiny was real; he had a place where he truly belonged, a home—he'd called it that himself. It was literally fated for Maker's sake. You had supported him throughout his whole journey, and now, if that meant you had to let him go... You didn't know how you could. But there was a possibility, becoming increasingly plausible every second you waited for his return, that that might be what you'd have to do. And that's when you realized it: you loved Zeb. Because if letting him go was what was best for him, then you would do it. No matter how much pain it caused you.

Finally, Ezra broke the long-standing silence, evidently thinking along the same lines you were. "Zeb has been down there a while. Are you sure he's coming back?"

Why did he have to go voicing your fears like that? It made them more real than you wanted them to be.

"Pretty sure," Kanan answered.

And then you saw the Phantom zooming past the viewscreen. You hurried out of the cockpit to meet Zeb as he docked. When you saw him, you couldn't contain your excitement.

"Zeb! You're back."

"Someone's happy to see me. What, did you think I'd left?" he asked jokingly.

Your responding silence made him become suddenly serious.

"You didn't really think that?"

You looked away for a second, feeling almost guilty now for even considering the idea.

"Well, no. But—" You fumbled for an explanation, struggling to organize your thoughts. "You were gone for so long, and Ezra asked if you were coming back and—I don't know. It got me wondering if you might want to stay. I mean, they are your people, after all. Lira San is where you were meant to be."

Immediately seeking to assuage your concerns, he gently cradled your face in his hands and bore his eyes into yours. "Hey, you're my people, and this, right here is where I belong. And there's no prophecy that's gonna tell me otherwise."

Your heart swelled at his words. All tension eased away, you beamed at him and wrapped yourself around his waist. He enveloped you in his big arms, somehow managing to make you feel even smaller next to him but, more than anything, safe and secure. Zeb always gave the best hugs.

"I'd never leave you," he said softly. "I..."

He seemed hesitant to finish his sentence, almost shy now. You pulled back to search his expression. He looked at you as if he was struggling to decide whether or not to tell you whatever he was going to say. You gazed up at him expectantly, silently encouraging him to go on. After a few seconds, he finally appeared to have worked up the courage.

"I love you."

You were a bit surprised at the confession; you hadn't realized he'd felt that way about you. Your relationship had always been so casual that you were basically just close friends who slept together—a lot. You had never really defined your feelings for one another. But hearing him put them all out there now filled you with a joy you hadn't known in a long time. Because you felt the same way about him. Zeb was nervously awaiting your response, obviously trying to read your reaction. Wasting no more time, you reached up on your tip-toes, pulled his face down to yours, and kissed him with a fierceness that would tell him everything he needed to know. When you broke apart, your faces lingered close together, the mere centimeter of space between you giving you just enough room to speak.

"I love you, too."

At that, he smiled one of those rare, unadulterated smiles of his. It was probably the first time you had seen him look genuinely happy since you had known him. He made to kiss you again when you heard Hera scolding Chopper somewhere in the distance.

Hand still cupped around your jaw, he reluctantly pulled away from your lips and sighed lightly, looking a little peeved about the interruption. To be continued another time, you thought.

Making your way back into the cockpit together, you could hear more of Chopper's grumbling, to which Hera replied, "Well, I'm sorry, Chopper. You're gonna have to put all of Zeb's stuff back in his room."

Zeb scoffed at the fact that Chopper was apparently ready to get rid of him.

"Kinda sad, those two Lasat all alone on that planet," Sabine said.

"They're not alone," Zeb replied as he descended the ladder outside the cockpit.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ezra.

"There were already Lasat down there. Lira San is where my people originally came from."

Words couldn't express how pleased you were to hear that. All that time, Zeb blamed himself for being the only survivor of the destruction of Lira San. But there were others.

"Yes, Chopper, that means there's a lot more of him," Sabine responded to Chopper's confused chatters.

You shook your head at the rude little astromech, who continued to complain.

"Yes! We can go home now," Hera told the droid.

"Yeah. How do we get home?" Ezra wondered.

"Consider this system charted, which means now that the Ghost has been here, we can always come back."

"And if we meet any other Lasat, I will show them the way," Zeb added.

And you knew when he did, you would be right there with him.

Back in hyperspace, you grabbed Zeb's hand and pulled him aside. Amidst all the buzz after you woke up on Lira San, you never even got a chance to tell him how proud you were of him.

"That was amazing what you did earlier, you know. And I knew you could do it. You were always the warrior to me."

He grinned at you and squeezed your hand before pulling you into him and whispering, "Let's go to your room."

A devilish grin of your own crossed your face as you let Zeb drag you out of the cockpit with him, eager to get you alone again. He led you to the place where you'd spent many long, memorable nights together before. Only, this time would be different. This time would be not simply between friends but two people who were utterly and unquestionably in love with each other.

He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first. As soon as the door shut, he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Looks like you're stuck with me now, sweet girl," he rumbled against your ear in that low growl of his that always made you go weak. Burying his face into your neck, he proceeded to kiss and nibble on the skin there.

Somewhere between a giggle and a moan, you had only one response to that. "Good."

(Stay tuned for upcoming Kit, Wolffe, Lando, Obi-Wan, and Echo fics, and feel free to send requests! I will also be doing a December writing challenge!)

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years

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Evil Unmasked AU Part 3 - Lord Vader (aka Ahsoka learns the truth)

If anyone had, by sheer luck, missed the news or the announcement - every single broadcast via the holo networks made sure to either remind or inform people of the event. “Revered war hero and former Jedi Knight revealed as the Emperor’s right hand man”. Every single one left out the man’s birth name, the name by which he had been celebrated by Republic forces and maligned by the Separatists mere months before the revelation. The Hero with no Fear, he had been dubbed by the media. It was easy to see, in hindsight, that this too may have been a ploy constructed by the then chancellor, Palpatine.

Anakin Skywalker had been built up, like a fictional hero bestowed with charm, intellect and skill. His appearance had never detracted from the positive spin on his tale, his handsome features inviting people to buy into and accept the public image created for him. It was this man, this living legend, that had been retooled to masterly.

The man who had been cherished, with his wit and his cocky half smiles masking a perceived shy insecurity, was nowhere to be seen now. Once or twice, in the wake of major events during The Clone Wars, Skywalker had been projected on holo networks. The interviews had been brief, the young man seemingly uncomfortable by the attention, as if he struggled to live up to the public image tied to his name. For the past month, since he had been renamed, none of that persisted. While it was evident that the man cared even less for making public appearances or statements, he had been forced into giving a slew of them.

Every broadcasting network wanted a tout-a-tout with this reinvented icon. Little of the boyish charm remained, and all that persisted of Skywalker seemed to be his dry sarcasm and his inherent desire to act out in favour of his political and personal beliefs. As he had explained, with little interest, his “loyalty has always lied with Emperor Palpatine, and it will remain to do so.”

To those who had known Skywalker closely beforehand - those who remained alive to tell the tale, that was - were shook by the altered man, and the confusion this change left behind. His new persona was so vastly different, he might as well have been a new person altogether. Some would say that Skywalker had always been a snake in the grass, had always maintained a charade - acting out a falsehood to lull former friends and allies into trusting him. On the other hand, some were convinced something tragic must have happened to Skywalker, or that he had been bribed or manipulated by the Emperor into giving up on his morals.

Ahsoka reacted accordingly.

She had been lucky to miss out on the initial, official inauguration of her former master. She had come back from Mandalore, no longer a child but a woman. Forced to grow up at the age of 17, her and Rex had been the only survivors. And Maul, of course, who’d made his escape and remained cleverly hidden ever since. The fall of the Republic had been enough of a shock, in the wake of Order 66 and the death of Jesse and the entire 212th battalion. On top of that, the Senate’s power had been reduced to virtually nothing, restrictions and documentation of every single Galactic citizen had become mandatory; every ship was to be licensed and catalogued.

A long list of names had been released to the public with large bounties on their heads; names of those considered dangerous foes to the newly formed Empire. Most of them were former politicians, military deserters and Separatists; few were Jedi. Ahsoka didn’t take that as a good omen, seeing as the omission so many Jedi names probably came from the fact that Order 66 had already eviscerated the order. Ahsoka herself had been absent from the list, as had Rex, and as such they were presumed dead to the new government.

While Ahsoka had let out a sigh of relief to see master Yoda and Obi-Wan were noted as dangerous Jedi fugitives still considered to be alive; her stomach sank when master Plo and Anakin’s names remained absent.

Ahsoka had, thankfully, been left in the dark when her former master’s fate was concerned. She had assumed him dead, at first. Two months had gone by, she and Rex parting ways soon after they had buried their fallen soldiers and friends on the unrecorded moon where their Jedi cruiser had crashed. It was too dangerous to stay together, and while Rex had returned to Coruscant for supplies and to hopefully seek out further clones who may have avoided or resisted the command of Order 66 and the inhibitor chip’s programming - Ahsoka had lingered in the outer rim. A brief meet and greet - albeit unfortunate - with Hondo Ohnaka had granted her a false new identity as Ashla, before relocating to the mostly peaceful Thabeska. In the blink of an eye, two additional months had passed. Then another, and another. Settling into mundane life, building a new future; she had honed her knack for mechanics and turned it into a profession - making just enough credits to scrape by. Five months had passed since the end of the war, when the news finally reached her.

Ahsoka had been scouring one of the few off-planet affiliated trading shops for supplies and tools. She was in desperate need of spare parts for her comlink which had been dead since she arrived. She had promised Rex they would stay in touch somewhat regularly, and figured it was finally safe to reach out and catch up. Rex, Ahsoka presumed, was still located on or near Coruscant in hiding. She would have by-passed the slim offering of flimsiplast and data-tape prints, had a preview the issue of the day not been screened on the beat up, flickering holo screen poised on the wall above the aisle as advertisement to draw her attention. A reporter seemed to be enthusiastically interviewing one of the freshly promoted Imperial figureheads. The sound was muffled, the image grainy - but it was the voice that caught Ahsoka off guard.

“It has been just short of six months since the Republic was officially denounced, and the new Galactic Empire firmly installed. How do you feel this transition has affected you?” asked the reporter, eyes wide with awe and admiration as his face filled the holo-screen.

“Very little,” said a gruff, monotone voice - so void of emotion or excitement, that it came off as nearly synthetic. “I believe my position is quite similar to that of my pre-Empire self. While I am no longer, by profession, a knight or a general - I still carry out similar services. It is, naturally, expected of me to hunt down detractors and traitors. There is little difference in leading a war effort where casualties are a constant, and leading a judicial effort of assimilation.”

The words were big, foreign, and unnerving. Words Ahsoka had never heard uttered by that particular voice before. The voice itself seemed unrecognizable; twisted, and warped. But still, a familiar note to it remained - one that urged Ahsoka to keep watching, one that beckoned her, and compelled her naive curiosity. Her stomach sank before she even had laid eyes upon the screen, before the image that came with the distorted voice could confirm her greatest fears. As she focused on the screening, the reporter had come back into frame and Ahsoka’s heart pounded nigh painfully hard against her ribcage as she waited for the man that was the focal point of the interview to answer the next query.

“Do you struggle with any guilt, in regards to your unfortunate responsibilities? I understand it must have been difficult to carry out the order of persecution towards the Jedi order. Indeed, you were raised within those walls, were you not? Indoctrinated with their religious beliefs, did you ever doubt their teachings beforehand? Were you ever disillusioned by their cult before the assassination attempt upon the Emperor came to light? I am aware that you wish to distance yourself from the order, but I’m certain you understand the importance of your shift.”

“My own former master lied to me. That was the moment at which I was first privy to the mastery of manipulation that ran deep within the sect, as he had been required to carry out their dishonest schemes. I was not raised within the order, but I was offered training under the false pretense that I might free someone close to me from slavery once knighted. This was another malignant lie, as I was restrained from realizing these wishes.”

Ahsoka didn’t notice the screwdriver slipping from her hand, nor did she pick up on the clatter as it hit the durasteel floor once the man’s face came back into view; at once painfully reassuring, and horrendously frightening.

“I feel no guilt in the wake of my actions. I pity the Jedi order for their misinformed notion of the Force as a sacred yet passive entity. True power and understanding of its whims has thus evaded them. I pity their hunger for control, and their warmongering. I pity their attempts at kidnapping and brainwashing young children into following their flawed dogma, and any child present at the temple during the march is indeed better off becoming one with the Force, than continuing to serve a false doctrine. I was not raised entirely within the temple, and as for my morals, no person within the order served as a model or mentor me through true honesty,” said a begrudging Anakin Skywalker - and there was a prominent anger flickering beneath the drawled monotone.

Outwardly, Anakin appeared nearly the same as he had the day Ahsoka had said goodbye to him before she set off to capture Maul, and he went to rescue the kidnapped then Chancellor Palpatine. Anakin had offered a forlorn yet gentle smile as they parted ways. His wavy hair had been long and unruly, but his eyes were bright, and blue, and warm. Full of hope. On the holo screen, despite the inevitable blue tang to the recorded session, his face seemed pale and gaunt; fine lines were traced around his eyes, at the corners of his lips, and dug into his forehead.

His sockets seemed dark and sunken, as if sleep had evaded him for weeks. His expression was a perpetual scowl, his arms folded across his chest as he stood nonchalantly beside the armchair that had no doubt been offered for him to settle into. He was taller than Ahsoka recalled - even with the limited props of the room the conversation was being held in, he towered over every single piece of furniture.

The reporter, Ahsoka recognized him as Mas Aqui - he’d been present at her trial, waiting with bated breath to record her conviction - had been tall and lanky then, but seemed almost frail and miniscule while standing next to the former Jedi he was now bothering.

“It is my belief that the order had a singularly negative effect on my character, and it is impossible for me to harbour any remorse towards a sect that so thoroughly stunted my growth. In the wake of Order 66, and the subsequent termination of the Jedi sect, I have had sufficient time to consider the events. I believe the Jedi were inherently incapable of showing humanity. It is for this reason, first and foremost, that I am determined to distance myself from any remaining ties I may have to the order. I consider myself enlightened, and do not wish to be associated with the negative connotations of the cilt that so maliciously affected the Galaxy.”

Ahsoka couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The words coming out of Anakin’s mouth seemed pre-scripted in their delivery, but still genuinely professed. They sounded nothing like the man who had nurtured her, and cared for her as an older brother - but the conviction behind them was similar to the one that had backed every lesson he had taught and passed onto her. She felt cold and numb, hands trembling and eyes wide as she stared at the unsettling display.

Anakin’s dark blonde hair was trimmed and combed back, a few fresh battle scars lining his brow and his left side cheekbone. His robes seemed a mixture of de facto Imperial garb, armour, and sacred Jedi robes twisted to mock the order's very existence. But his eyes were the biggest detractor. Their colour could not be discerned, but their iridescent, glowing quality carried through. The blood vessels were visible, lining the irises like an intricate work of haphazard artistry. Cruel, calculating, animalistic. Ahsoka had seen those same eyes too many times, and had been confronted with their unhinged quality in the Sith Lord Darth Maul’s every expression. In Maul, they conveyed a deep seated insanity - in her former master; they spoke of a fury so overt, it seemed to reach right through the screen with their oppressive glare.

“I see. As to sum up our brief rendezvous, Lord Vader, I am obliged to aim a few final questionnaires at this past connection of yours - I aware that this is to be the last time, as of now, that you speak out on the matter - and am thus mandated to collect a few loosely affiliated tidbits,” Aqui cautiously pointed out.

“Make it a quick affair,” was Anakin’s only reply; gleaming eyes narrowed in a disgruntled surrender that matched his threatening cadence.

“Very well. There have been some questions frequently asked by our dedicated viewers. As such, I’ve picked out the topmost three. They may be a bit personal of nature, so feel free to dodge them if you are uncomfortable with their direction,” the reporter reassured.

Anakin’s dramatic eye roll at the implication was grand and demeaning, but served as the only, silent reply. Aqui shrunk back, no doubt feeling embarrassed by the disregard of his patience and attempt at pandering.

“Do you miss any of your connections within the fallen Jedi order, and if so, whom?”

“No,” was Anakin’s direct response, a sharp warning of a hiss. “Every single one of them was a traitor and a liar. I pity their ignorance, but I do not mourn them. I rejoice in their fall, and I would aid the Imperial efforts to eradicate their kind all over again if need be.”

Ahsoka swallowed back the lump forming at the base of her throat; her eyes burning as they watered against her will. The Jedi had cared deeply for Anakin. Master Yoda, Master Plo, Obi-Wan. How could Anakin not have seen their love? They may have practiced a no attachment policy, but Obi-Wan had clearly contradicted the rule to his own detriment. So had Ahsoka, one of the reasons behind her decision to sever her ties with the order - something she knew that Anakin too had longed for.

“Is there any hope for a Jedi on the run to reform and thus evade persecution?”

“No. Some have attempted to reform, but it is in the grand scheme of things, useless. The Jedi are the sole reason behind the detriment of the Galaxy, and their hubris is the foundation upon which the war was built. No man or woman raised within the temple walls is unaffected by their harmful teachings. As such, few if any may break the vicious cycle. I have yet to meet a truly dedicated Jedi who would admit their fallacy and turn away from the sect. The few reinvented Force wielders I have come across, have all doubted the order before its inevitable fall, and were thus given the tools necessary to break away,” Anakin simply stated, still as arrogant in his stance; his tone premeditated but with a sincerity that made Ahsoka feel sick to the stomach as a lone tear escape and trailed lazily down her cheek.

“Alright. Finally, what is behind your change of persona?”

Anakin’s expression shifted for a brief moment, the rage behind his eyes laid bare and unveiled. His eyes burned, their glow predatory and unadulterated. He seemed to heave a sigh, his mouth drawn into a repulsed sneer. When he spoke, his voice was calm and calculated, but his eyes were dangerous and intimidating.

“Anakin Skywalker is dead. I do not associate myself with this man, whom the Jedi were attempting to shape me into. I reiterate, and hope to never need state again, that I denounce my past as an act forced upon me. In severing my ties to the order, I have found freedom with the true facets of the Force. As such, the Emperor has bestowed upon me the title of Darth Vader. Lord Vader is the only title befitting of my stance within the Empire. Lord Vader is the name by which all Galactic citizens are expected to address me, as is my right. There is no Anakin Skywalker, and there never was. The Jedi order destroyed the weak child bearing that name. I am Darth Vader, and that is all that there is.”

Another tear followed the first, and Ahsoka bit back a choked sob as she covered her mouth. The Anakin Skywalker she had known was no more. Barely a trace of him remained. In his place, stood Sith Lord Darth Vader.

Vader, who would stop at nothing to keep his promise and reaffirm his loyalty towards his Emperor and master.

****

Because I was inspired by the commenters of the second chapter to explore how Vader may be used for propaganda, I wanted Ahsoka to find out about Anakin's turn through one of the many media Palpatine would no doubt promote Vader through. Vader could be used as a tool to strengthen the notion of the evil Jedi, and his breaking free from their brainwashing. I figured this was a fun spin on it, and included it! There will be more coming!

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029582/chapters/79572163

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