Darth Vader - Blog Posts

DARTH VADER in ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY (2016) LUKE SKYWALKER in THE MANDALORIAN (2020)

Darth Vader & Kylo Ren | Copycat | Star Wars Edit

I just had to make this after seeing all these parallels.

I-

i think about this often

trandoshan affectation

Let’s talk about Darth Vader.

In the third Star Wars movie, Revenge of the Sith, he gets his limbs cut off by Obi-Wan Kenobi. In the case that Star Wars was set in modern life, he would have to:

Be rushed to the nearest hospital

Have life saving surgery

And have years of rehab. Just think about what that would look like: Darth Vader in a pool, wearing his helmet and doing water aerobics.

LORD-

An Arrangement

Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !

Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut

WC: 9.3k

You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns. 

So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.

“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.

“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.” 

“But Your Grace-!”

“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.

“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.

You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life. 

With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people. 

“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.” 

Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor. 

‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air. 

“Burn it.” 

Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes. 

The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father. 

Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.  

The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.

“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure. 

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath. 

“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”

“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.

“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”

“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.

“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.” 

Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault. 

“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.

“He?”

“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”

“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.  

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly. 

“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”

“Tonight.” 

You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question. 

After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain. 

“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask. 

“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.

“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake. 

“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.

“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it. 

You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.

Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight? 

A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition. 

“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.

Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar. 

“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible. 

Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed. 

“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly. 

“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom. 

“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.

Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered. 

“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.

“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.” 

Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task. 

Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space. 

“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.

“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find. 

“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you? 

He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you. 

“You…you’re-” You stutter.

“Not hideously deformed?”

“-beautiful.” 

He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this? 

“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.

“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.” 

“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away. 

“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”  

Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks. 

“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper. 

“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works. 

You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.

Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders. 

You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought. 

Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once. 

Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest. 

As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones. 

“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly. 

“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes. 

“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.

Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation. 

“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you. 

You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you. 

“What is it?”

“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor. 

“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently. 

“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”

“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly. 

“I don’t understa-“

“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.” 

“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom. 

“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.” 

“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence. 

“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.” 

“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day. 

“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?” 

Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate. 

“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back. 

“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly. 

You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes. 

“Having a good morning?” She asks.

“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset. 

“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity. 

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to. 

You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned. 

“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace. 

“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises. 

“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile. 

“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“

“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence. 

“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.

“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”

“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.

“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.

“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.

“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”

“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses. 

“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.” 

“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.

“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”

With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation. 

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.

The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.

“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”

“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual. 

“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.

“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile. 

“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections. 

“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.

“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently. 

“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.

“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”

“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation. 

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?” 

“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him. 

“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. 

“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom. 

“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.

“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you. 

“You’ve lost your mind.” 

“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.

“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.

“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”

“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?

“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.

“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.

“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?” 

“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.” 

“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.” 

“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.

“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”

“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.

“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!” 

“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.

“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.

“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.

“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt. 

“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed. 

“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.” 

“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen. 

“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?” 

“I’m not scared, I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence. 

“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.” 

“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.

“What?”

“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear. 

“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring. 

“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples. 

“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure. 

“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“ 

“Yes.” 

A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more. 

“What are you doing?” He grumbles.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection. 

“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you. 

“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.” 

“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it. 

“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.

“Huh, do what?”

“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.” 

“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you. 

“You find me that handsome?”

“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it. 

“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.

“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment. 

Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches. 

“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“As if you care.” You huff.

“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.

“Please?” You moan. 

“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing. 

“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.

“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging. 

“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?” 

“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!” 

“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”

You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you. 

“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.

He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.

“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.

“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead. 

“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.

“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.

“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.” 

“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.

“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway. 

“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.

“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.

“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.” 

“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”

“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you. 

“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease. 

“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin. 

“What do you want?” He replies breathily. 

“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“

“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you. 

“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair. 

“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.

“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp. 

“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.” 

“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds. 

“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out. 

“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses. 

“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”

“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.

“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.

“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation. 

Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”

“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh. 

“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum. 

“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore. 

“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.

Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him. 

“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?” 

“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine. 

“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“

“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.

The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too. 

After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face. 

Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.

“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out. 

“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him. 

“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“

“What are you talking about?” 

“Word finally reached them, they’re finally here!”

“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.

“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!” 

“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.

“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from. 

“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity. 

“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly. 

“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might. 

He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.

“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.

“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.

Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.

“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”

“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting. 

“I love you too.” 

As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment. 

“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you. 

“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back. 

“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”

“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him. 

“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.” 

A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.

“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.

@erinkeifer @crazy4men @mortalheartache @arzua10

Star Wars HOTD AU

An AU where it is the HOTD setting with Star Wars characters. There's so many ideas that won't leave my mind. Like:

The jedi as dragon riders who protected the republic. Having the force and their dragons. With lightsabers being an equivalent to Valyrian steel swords.

Coruscant as King's Landing. With the king being replaced with the chancellor.

Each mayor planet being a kingdom with the lesser ones being cities.

Mandalore as Dorne, with their dragon killing beskar spears and hatred of the jedi. Having been able to resist conquest and refusing to join.

The unkown regions being the zone beyond the wall. Where sith magic and the darkside abound.

Plot wise I was thinking about how similar Daenerys and Luke are. Maybe Luke is the one that brings dragons back into the realm in a parallel to the ritual Daenerys did, only with Darth Vader, Sidious and himself instead of Khal Drogo, Mirri and Daenerys.

Or maybe we could see Anakin falling to the darkside and leading to the end of dragons and jedi alike.

There's so much that could be done with this idea, but i am curious as to what other people think.

I always ask myself why I like the dark semi good/bad characters and then realised that they all have missing limbs, and though I only have a missing finger, my little ass kid brain went "they're so cool" and now my adult brain gets to go "they're so f**king hot gawd DAMN" and you know what it all started with this lil shit disturber turned badass pretty princess mass serial killer with a breathing problem

Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (2005) dir. George Lucas

Capeless Vader

Wasteland Scraps

Various cut tidbits from my Wastelands story! These are from various chapters, specifically chapters 5-8 :)

…

Where was he?

His limbs were heavy and somewhat tingly, but otherwise responsive and relatively pain-free. He moved to cover his face with a hand, only to smack someone else in their face.

“Uhnhgggg…” said person groaned.

“Max,” Piett called, recognizing that groan from a few-too-many drunken Imperial hangouts.

“Hnng?” Veers moaned again, twitching.

“Max, get off of me.”

The Imperial General swiftly rolled over, flopping next to Piett with no shortage of wordless complaint.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Piett scanned their surroundings.

It seemed to be a medical room of some sort, with a blinding, sterile atmosphere and an abundance of related machinery. An active bacta tank sat in the middle of the room, and a quick buzz from the Mindlink confirmed who it was.

He had been so certain that this week would be his last. Now, bound in chains and forced to kneel in absolute darkness, he wished more than ever that he had died like he was supposed to.

He remembered shattering the mindscape (he refused to think about why he had spiraled, lest he spiral again) and causing his Hivemind to collapse, injured but alive. The others in the group hadn’t been so lucky, and neither had the remainder of all the lifeforms in the base - even the stray tookas loitering around had not been spared.

He remembered his Master looming over him, a scowl on his features as he ordered Red Guards to lift him to a nearby hoverstretcher. He remembered watching as medics from his own fleet approached Piett and Veers, and he remembered the way his Master instructed the guards to cover him with a sheet, lest anyone else see. He remembered the shame, the humiliation that such an order brought, like he was something disgusting that needed to be hidden from view.

Mostly, he remembered how his severed jaw hung grimly from the wire necklace, glinting in the light, making him sick with fear.

“You must grow stronger,” Lord Vader insisted. “It is pertinent for our relationship for you to be able to defeat me in battle, for you to be able to kill me should the need arise.”

Piett blinked at him, stunned.

“Why, in all the Galaxy, would that be a needed skill?” Piett snapped, horrified.

Vader simply tilted his head, equally perplexed.

“It is important for relationships to be balanced, to be equal,” he said, finally. “I have been researching healthy relationships, and that seems to be a recurring sentiment.”

Piett pushed away the amusing absurd mental image of Lord Vader googling “how to have healthy relationship??? help???” and instead continued to stare at his idiot other.

“I must admit, I do not have very much experience with ‘healthy relationships’ or ‘boundaries’ or any of the other things I found in the advice I have received. I suppose that I will be… learning.”

Piett took a deep breath, resisting the urge to place his face in his palms.

“My Lord. Darling. Babe. That’s not what that means.”

Silence, save for the rhythmic breathing.

“They don’t mean physical prowess when they talk about a balanced relationship dynamic, though it is incredibly sweet that you thought so.”

“Then what do they mean?” Vader huffed, annoyed.

“They mean, like, financially, or when it comes to household chores, and stuff,” Piett replied.

“I… I do not have any money, personally,” Vader admitted. Piett just stared at him, unsure of what he meant.

“If necessary, I am permitted by the Emperor to utilize funds given to me, but I do not have anything else.”

“Hold on, excuse me?” Piett squawked, incredulous. “Aren’t you getting paid?”

Another blank stare from underneath the mask - Piett could feel it.

“For what?” He asked.

“For your job.”

“I do not have a job.”

“Then what do you call this?”

Staring at the screen, he found himself enraptured in what he saw, yet in disbelief of it at the same time.

After passing out in the mindscape, Piett had awoken to the crisp, sterile atmosphere of Recovery. The front of his skull had been fractured, just above his frontal lobe, and the medics said it was a miracle that he survived, let alone that he’d continue to survive with no further complications or long-lasting effects. Even more shocking, they said, was that the same exact thing had happened to General Veers.

He had felt much the same way hearing that tale as he did now, staring at the I-SORE (a rather unfortunate name, if you asked Piett - the place really was beautiful, and in no way an actual eyesore) report, seeing his name listed as the co-discoverer of a new species of warbler.

Of course, when Lord Vader had inexplicably called to him, a small bird in his hands, he had been… perplexed? Bemused? Experiencing an odd mixture of ‘what in the galaxy is happening’ and ‘oh shining stars that is SO romantic’? Either way, he didn’t quite know how to express, with words, the confusing mixture of emotions he felt.

He hadn’t seen what Lord Vader had opted to name the bird, or if he had even decided to name it at all. In fact, he hadn’t even known Lord Vader to be the least bit interested in birds, and Piett couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling he felt in his chest when he realized they possibly had a (very unexpected) shared interest. Still, never in his wildest of dreams could he have imagined that Lord Vader would have named the bird after him. And yet, staring in front of him in unyielding text were the words Piett’s Warbler, and Piett felt ready to just pass out then and there.

Today the wheel has chosen:

┗━━━━━━⊱ 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⊰━━━━━━┛

FOR A3

If Sith Lord why smol?

Full view:

______

Characters:

Obi-Wan, ✅️

Anakin, ❌️

Ahsoka, ❌️

Darth Marr, ❌️

Darth Malgus, ❌️

Luke, ❌️

Revan, ❌️

Leai, ❌️

Padme, ❌️

Aayla Secura, ❌️

Shaak Ti, ❌️

Mace Windu, ❌️

Palpatine, ❌️

Darth Malak, ❌️

Darth Nihilus, ❌️

Darth Traya, ❌️

Darth Sion, ❌️

Thrawn, ❌️

Darth Maul, ❌️

Darth Zannah, ❌️

Darth Vader, ✅️

The Exile, ❌️

Satele Shan, ❌️

Bastila Shan, ❌️

Bariss Offee, ❌️

Chewbacca, ❌️

Cal Kestis, ❌️

Avar Kriss, ❌️

Han Solo, ❌️

Lord Scourge, ❌️

______

The chosen one

Anakin Skywalker

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Anakin. For all of it."

"I am not your failure obi-wan. You didn't kill Anakin Skywalker. I did "

"obi-wan never told you what happened to your father"

"he told me you killed him"

Happy Holidays!🎄

May you ignore the chaos in your lives for just a moment, like Obi-Wan & Cody✨

Inspired by Aaron McBride's official 2022 Lucasfilm Holiday Card:

Also, a bonus closeup:

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogging is the best way to support this project and the artist.

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This close to avoiding a social event.

Please recommend me a fanfic with this story. I need it more than I need oxygen

you know what would have been funny? i was busy thinking of some Imperial! Anidala AUs and there's one which just crossed my mind.

Imagine Padmé joins Vader on Mustafar, Vader beats Obi, and kills Sidious to take over. Vader tries to deepen his connection to the Dark Side as he and Padmé rule over the galaxy. Vader tries to portray himself as this evil, fearsome autocrat but is way too popular: he doesn't create the Death Star because neither he nor Padmé likes it, he abolishes slavery because duh, literally all of the clones (they don't get replaced) love him, he's still seen as the war hero, he's very handsome, and Padmé's presence + coregency mellows him out a lot. Padmé and his children are also there, and his love for them is wayyyyyy too much that he isn't nearly as evil and dark as he should be

Eventually, Vader comes to Padmé crying about how his connection to the Dark Side is weakening because of how much he loves her and the children and how he can't fuel his inner darkness anymore. He isn't really a Sith anymore and eventually Padmé convinces him to just let it go, renounce his darkness, and let the love flow through him so now he's just emperor anakin, former jedi and failed sith

emperor vader: suffering from success

and with that, Obi-Wan finally accepted that Anakin's fall is his own fault.

OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) Part VI | 1.06

Vader and Luke art for @kittandchips. I just finished rereading her Force Bond series and inspiration strikes

and of course, who would forget the infamous shirt?

Rex: We need to kill them

Ahsoka: I won't kill them

Jesse: *points pistols* I will kill you

Rex: We need to kill them now

*501st ready to die to kill them*

Ahsoka: I said I won-

*NOT MINE*

🐻

A-Z characters

Letter: D

Darth Vader

Drusilla Blackthorn

Daryl Dixon

W O W

this is an amazing au op!! i absolutely enjoyed the read!! ✨

If Vader raised Luke and Obi-Wan trained Leia

Let’s say sometime after Mustafar. Darth Vader in his meditation in his castle, Vader felt a presence he hasn’t felt since…..Padme. Since he felt his unborn child through the force. His child is alive. Sidious lied. The Jedi took his son from him. They will all pay. So here is what would happen if Vader sensed, found and raised Luke. 

Keep reading

He was the best starpilot in the galaxy. Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)

Based off the thingy to the right :))

Going by legends/eu for all but Ashoka btw

Based on this thingy :b

Maul and Vader have taught us enough 💀

i get doing studies on proper programs is probably like, better, but have you considered this: MS paint really fun

(-- tip jar! --)

READ THIS GUYS

My Little Rebel. (Yandere! Darth Vader x Female! reader)

Chapter 12

WARNING: YANDERE, IMPRISONMENT, STARVATION, ISOLATION, DARK, VERY SLIGHT NFSW AND OBSESSIVE CONTENT.

Sorry for the long wait, I've been busy lately. Enjoy!

It’s been days since your attempted escape. The Sith had thrown you back into that damned room, without any remorse in his actions. He hasn’t bothered to give you any food, the only thing you’ve received was the metallic bottle, to use it for refilling at the sink. So far, Lord Vader strangely hadn't tried to visited you. It’s starting to get extremely lonely, the loneliness slowly eating away at your stressed brain. The added hunger in your stomach isn’t helping the situation much either. It made you feel all the more miserable, your body feels so sickeningly weak. 

You’re currently seated in the corner of the cold room, the beds sheets removed from the bed as they’re placed upon your form. The black covers stained from the tears you’ve been crying out. The sheet’s being the only thing to give you a slight sense of security and comfort. Your dull eyes focused on the heavily armoured door, possibly hoping for someone to enter. You were nearing the point of begging for food, even if it meant damaging your self pride, which there wasn’t much left of anyways. You slowly crawl to the door, your legs being too weak to support yourself from the starvation you’ve endured. You shakily sit yourself up while you’re palms hold onto the metallic door. You carefully knock your frail knuckles against the door, tap, tap, tap, pausing to wait for a response but you receive none, “Hello? Is anybody there?” You ask, faintly raising your voice. Nausea floods over you, causing your speech to be slurred. Talking drains so freaking much energy. “Please? V-Vader!? Are you there? P-please, I need food…” You helplessly croak out, it’s so exhausting. 

Unbeknownst to you, on the other side stands the sadistic Sith Lord, deliberately not responding to your desperate cries. “Please, I will,” You pause to process your words, should you say it? Fuck it, your real need is to survive. “I'll do a-anything.” Well that certainly caught his attention. Anything? That sounds too good to be true, but he knew that you would fall apart, eventually. Pleased with your words, he believes that you’ve had enough of this cruel punishment. You have learned from it, haven’t you, little one? It’s about time he’ll set his evil eyes upon your graceful figure, once again. 

Your ears perk up from the sound of rattling locks, moving away from the door as it unlocks. Your hazy orbs land on your capturer, Darth Vader. You almost vomit as a wave of nausea suddenly hits you once more, causing you to groan out in discomfort. Did he hear you? If he did then where’s your prized food? “Food, please?” You barely whisper out, cringing at yourself as your voice sounds completely broken from the lack of nutrients you’ve received. Lord Vader crouches down in front of you, his right hand softy cups your chin, tilting your face to look up at him. You can’t deny that it felt nice, to feel bodily contact again. The Sith Lord’s fascinated eyes hungrily roam over your pale face, you’re still so breathtaking. He gently brushes a few scattered locks of hair out of your precious, sticky tear stained face. Entrancing the almighty Sith with your beauty. Maker, you're so gorgeous.

“Vader?” You softly mumble, your pleading eyes questionably glance up at him, fairly creeped out by his staring. Snapping him out of his twisted fantasies, It’s becoming harder for him to restrain himself, but patience, it would be unwise to make you even more afraid as you already are. The amused Sith cocks his head at you, enjoying your adorable little begs, what he would give to have you begging, for only him. You should know who is in control now, as you are fully dependent on him. He unexpectedly rises himself up, towering over your small seated form. Is he playing with you? Is he gonna leave? Or does he want you to ask again? It doesn’t make any sense. Many confused thoughts spin around your puzzled and tired mind, should you do something other then begging? Well fuck it, your stomach is literally howling for something consumable. You crawl towards Vader, firmly clutching yourself onto his thick legs, the act appears similar to a desperate child that doesn’t wanna leave their guardian. “Please don’t leave me. I-I missed you.” You sniffle resting your forehead against his leg. This is what he wants, right? Tears start to stream down your cheeks for the so many uncounted time, I mean he is the only remaining person that cares about you, in a twisted way. You don’t even know if Fortis is alive, the single thought of your friend draws you to tears, soft wails escape your lips as you try to quiet them down, successfully drawing his obsessive attention.

The Sith surprisingly kneels down, “Allow me to bring you to bed, darling.” He deeply rumbles, finally granting you some sort of reply. You didn’t realise that you had missed his voice, it sounded, relatively soothing. You nod at him, accepting his offer. Lord Vader snakes his strong arms around your weakened body as he hoists you up in bridal style, gently pressing you against his big armoured chest. He approaches the soft bed, carefully planting you on its cotton surface. Vader walks up to the corner you were previously in, examining the soaked blanket. Poor thing, he didn’t expect you to be so upset with his actions, he just hopes that you have learned, or else he won’t hesitate to discipline his little rebel once again. Nevertheless he won’t tolerate you sleeping with these drenched sheets, he’ll get you a new one, but firstly let him feed you.

Lord Vader returns to your bed side and places himself next to you. He takes a hold of something, revealing a metallic lunchbox? The Sith opens the box, You immediately sit up while your eyes happily sparkle as they land upon something that appears like food. I mean at this point you’ll gladly take anything, not caring if it is drugged or not. You reach out for the box, however your hand gets gently stopped by his unoccupied hand. His mask lenses intriguingly stare at your being. “Let me feed you, my dear.” You defeatedly retrieve your arm, too tired to go against him. 

After eating the strange green substance you feel much better, even tough suffering many embarrassing moments. The colour begins to return to your face, your body feels much better, almost entirely back to normal. The Sith pause’s his movements tilting his helmet to the side, awaiting for a sentence of gratitude. Hasn’t he fed you well? You get the message, playing along to avoid angering him. “Thank you.” You softly murmur to him, “Good girl.” He praises, he’s so very pleased with you. “I have a question.” You cautiously say, looking up at his looming sitting figure, his cape menacingly draped over his muscular shoulders. “Is Fortis alright?” You whisper out, bracing yourself for an angry outburst. The Sith Lord feels a pang of rage shoot trough him. Why worry about that reckless trooper when you have him? He isn’t worth your time. “I guarantee that his condition is no concerning matter, Y/N.” He answers in a scolding tone, purposely using your real name. “Can you just, please tell me more?” You press on, “He is, alive.” End of conversation. Lord Vader unexpectedly rises up from his position, turning his back to you.

“Wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t wanna be alone again.” You say as you hurriedly launch forward to clasp your smaller hand onto his cape. Taking yourself by surprise at your unaware need for him, genuinely feeling saddened. How could Vader deny such an alluring request, especially when you look up at him with those pretty little pleading eyes? His hunger for you endlessly increasing. “Come.” He abruptly says as he raises his large hand up for you to take, you hesitantly place yours in his, melding them together. The Sith peeks down at your enveloped hand, adoring the way it perfectly fits in his. He's able to sense the heat radiating from your palm, although the multiple layers of armour cover his hand, unfortunately always separating him from you. 

Your legs are shaky as you stand up, clumsily stumbling for a few times. You proceed to shuffle after the fearsome Sith Lord, his hand gently intertwined with yours. Guiding you out of the isolating room, your curious eyes roam around the strange white and black coloured device you’ve seen before. “Where are we going?” “Patience.” He sternly responds. The two of you walk along the busy halls of the Executor, it probably must have been a sight. As you are still dressed in what you assume is a pyjama set, at last it seems like it, plus also holding hands with the Darth Vader. “Yeah, this can’t get any crazier. Fuck, if I knew he was gonna take me here, then couldn’t he have spared me of my outfit?” You think while wearing a shameful scarlet blush.

After a short time of walking and trying to ignore the oblivious stares. You’ve arrived at a familiar hangar, or so it felt like it. You and Vader approach a stormtrooper, unbeknownst to you it was Fortis, your friend. Fortis takes note of Vader’s presence, debating if he should greet you or not. He has been uncontrollably worried. Luckily for him and you, the dangerous Sith Lord’s attention gets driven away by an officer, most likely telling him something that’s worth his time. Fortis takes this as his moment to strike, he quickly grabs your arm, taking you to a more secluded section of the hangar. You realise that this stormtrooper may be your long lost friend, “Fortis?” “Shh.” He hushes you as he nods his head at his name, giving you confirmation that he indeed is him. He turns himself around freeing you from his grip, “Maker, Y/N are you alright? What happened to you!?” He whisper-shouts, concern audible in his quiet voice. “I’m still living, which is a good thing. Not many things happened apart from me getting isolated and starved.” You truthfully reply, “I really have to get you out to of here.” Fortis thoughtfully mumbles to himself, “Besides what happened to your comlink? I suddenly lost contact with you.” You ask him with a questionable raised brow. “Some unexpected death trooper took it away from me, very unusual. I should have suspected something was up at the start.” He heavily sighs out “Hey, it’s fine. You couldn’t really go against their orders.” You reassure with a smile, petting his armoured shoulder with your palm.

“Yeah…” He trails off, an idea popping up in his clever mind. “You know where you’re located, right?” Fortis asks “Yep, inside of Vaders personal chambers.” You reply, there’s no way you’ll be able to escape this time, or so you thought. “Okay, I can maybe get you out at the right timing. We just have too, wait. I’ll hand you a comlink just incase, hide it.” He says in a hushed tone, handing you the device. “Notify me when he leaves.” You cautiously look around, grabbing the device to put it safely away in your pockets. “I must go now. I don’t want him to suspect anything.” “Wait.” Fortis surprisingly says as he closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a soothing hug. “I got this, don’t you worry. I’m gonna get you out of here, may it be the last thing I do.” You close your arms around his neck, occasionally brushing past the the lower back part of his helmet. “Thank you.” You softly whisper. Deep inside of your mind, you unfortunately find yourself doubting his idea. Another failed attempt, and the punishment must be more, severe. You would rather not displease Lord Vader more than you’ve already done, and maybe if you eventually get on his good side, he may not be so cruel. “Please stay safe.” You add, letting go off his body. Fortis moves his left hand to your shoulder, his other hand resting upon your cheek. “I’ll be fine, I’ve gone trough worser. I got this.” He slowly says, strength and determination laced into his voice. Fortis releases his remaining hold on you. “You should go now.” You nod your head at him, agreeing with his words. “I’ll see you then.” You respond “You will.” Is the last thing you hear as you turn around, trying to spot the evident Sith Lord, to obediently return to his side.

You E/C eyes land upon the recognisable dark Lord, he always unsurprisingly stands out of the crowd with his obsidian shining armour. You advance towards him to position yourself behind him. You certainly had gotten the attention of the judgemental officer as his stare does not hide his shock, at your outfit. How could such a woman be so easy going, with Lord Vader’s presence included? You catch on a few sentence from their conversation “I will talk to him, General.” “Yes, Lord Vader.” The officer walks away, leaving you alone with Darth Vader. He turns his helmet to look at you, “We will take our leave, now.” He rumbles in a soft-spoken tone, warping his hand around yours. His larger digits squishing your smaller fingers apart. The Sith Lord starts moving, as you follow him. Meanwhile you try to memorise the way back, it may useful for your second escape attempt. However you’re still not so sure about it all, the last days was a real nightmare for you. You distinctively recall drowning into your own miserable thoughts, plus the loneliness, it was all a truly suffocating experience, that you preferably do not want to repeat. In spite of all those consequences it is still extremely tempting. But you do know one thing for certain, you won’t allow Fortis to die, for your sake. Even if it meant fully giving up on your freedom.

You and Vader arrive back to his chambers, “What did that officer say?” You curiously ask, wanting to know what that officer told him. “Noting of significance, my sweet.” He responds in a comforting voice. Before you know it, the both of you halt in front of the cursed room or more comparable to a prison, in your case. “Do I have to?” You silently mutter out, a sad expression forming onto your face. The Sith unseals the locks with the force, if there is no key then there really isn’t a way to get out of the doomed room. “It won't be for long, little one.” He somewhat purrs, setting his heavy palm on your scalp, moving his hand in a back and forward motion as his leather fingers ruffle trough your messy H/C hair. The interaction always keeps on making you to blush, the pinkish shade dusted upon your cheeks. The door opens with a loud screech, breaking the tense silence. You walk inside of the room without any protest, seating yourself on the bed. “I’ll see you then.” The door locks shut. You’ll be long gone once he returns, if Fortis succeeds.  

Tags: @blueberry-thrawn @simonsbluee @jellydodger @sakura-amethyst

I've been kicking an idea around in my head for ages and I keep running into roadblocks, so I hope that if I write stuff down it'll organize my thoughts. Or at least prevent me from losing them in a plethora of handwritten notes scattered around.

I love the relationships and characters in SW, but I've always thought that they were problematic. Plus, the dynamics and backgrounds didn't really fit the narrative I'd built up in my head prior to the prequels.

Since I don't really do fanfic (really bad experience in the late 90s), I thought I could fix it with by tweaking the characters and placing them in an OC setting.

Padme - Love this girl, but they really wasted her potential. First I'd get rid of her election and make her born royalty or a position of power. She's clearly trained for it from birth. I got the impression that she and her peers voluntarily pursued politics and I can't imagine the average kid being interested in administration or law from a young age. It just seems like an odd hyperfixation to have so many involved. She's also clearly a warrior and diplomacy is her weapon. I'd like to lean into the diplomatic Jedi archetype that the EU made for Leia, although Padme definitely isn't above getting her hands dirty and throwing a chair at someone when her words stop working.

I'd probably place her in a love triangle/throuple situation because I always thought that Obi-Wan suited her more. The romance in the prequels between her and Anakin seemed like it only happened because it had to happen rather than real chemistry, so I'd also try to do justice to their relationship.

Finally, Padme would disappear before anyone knew she was pregnant to protect the twins from their falling father. Darth Vader seemed genuinely surprised that he had a son, not that he was alive.

Anakin - The majority of my issues with Anakin is his behavior during his courtship of Padme. He was a walking red flag and while I know people ignore those all the time, he didn't come across as someone likeable...which he did in every other scene where he was allowed to be a Jedi warrior. His banter with Obi-Wan hinted at a deep friendship and his frustrations with the Jedi order/Council made sense even if they weren't articulated well. I think mostly I'd have to simply fix the execution of his flaws and insecurities.

I'd also close the age gap between him and the other two. Aside from the creepiness factor in his romance with Padme, the age discrepancy between Obi-wan and Anakin as apprentices/knights is kinda weird. Obi-Wan was supposed to be 25 in Phantom Menace. I get that he's going to be a mentor/old man later on in the series, but that seems really old to still be a padawan.

Obi-Wan - Nothing. You're perfect, baby. <3

(Except for the age thing.)