I Have A New Respect For Writers Who Write Slowburn. LIKE GUYS??? It's So Hard.

I have a new respect for writers who write slowburn. LIKE GUYS??? It's so hard.

Daughter of the Sea

Part II

Masterlist

Rhinestones

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: The aftermath of beating Luke comes with consequences.

Work Count: 1.8k

TW: Violence, blood, weapons, mean Luke, broken bones

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“WHO IN OLYMPUS PUT PINK RHINESTONES ON MY DAGGERS?” You yell in anger.

After your victory in Capture the Flag, everyone in camp had a newfound sense of respect for you and your abilities. And to your delight, they contented your skill with that of the infamous Luke Castellan. Unsurprisingly, the one and only Golden Boy wasn’t too happy about this and had been on a mission to make your life a living hell since that day.

But this was too far.

The knives, your prized possessions were covered in pastel pink shimmery rhinestones, and it was most likely Luke's fault.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

You marched up to Chris taking a fistful of this orange camp shirt, “Where. is. Castellan.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

You felt Chris’ body tense, he was all too familiar with your aggressive tendencies.

“I-…I don’t know.” He replied eyes fleeting away from your gaze.

You didn’t buy his answer for a minute.

Shoving him a little more this time, you spoke, “Don’t lie to me Chris. I know you know where he is.”

He was trembling my now, that much was evident. You supposed that after throwing a knife near his head in Capture the Flag, Chris was most likely terrified of you.

You don’t know what you would’ve done to Chris if he didn’t tell you. Probably nothing pretty. So for the fearful boy in your grasp, it was lucky that you caught a glimpse of dark curls rounding the corner.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“Castellan!” You yelled from across the dining area. Luke’s eyes found yours and based on the smirk adorning his features you confirmed the culprit.

Now it was time to apprehend him.

You took off sprinting in his direction, rhinestone knife raised in your right hand.

“You’re gonna suffer for this!” You scream, chest heaving from running.

You saw alarm pass over Luke’s eyes. Good. He should be afraid.

As you began to close in on him, he took off running in the opposite direction. What a cowered. You refused to back down, forcing your legs forward as you tried to regulate your breathing.

By now you had arrived at the woods, but it appeared that Luke had no intention of stopping anytime soon. So you chased after him.

The trees made it difficult to keep up with the Hermes boy, but you pushed on despite this. After running for what felt like hours you finally spotted Luke sitting on a large rock, one leg bent as he rested his elbow on his knee.

“You made it, Chaos. Thought I might have lost you back there.” He said.

You rolled your eyes, desiring nothing more than to rip his head from his body.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” You seethed.

He nodded, patronizing you as a smug expression clung to his features. “I see you found my present.”

“Present?” You spat, “You vandalized my daggers!”

Luke leaned back from his perched position. He was calm and collected and this made you all the more frustrated.

“Did I? Or did I just bedazzle them for you?”

You chuckled angrily, “Bedazzle? Castellan you covered my knives in pink rhinestones and the only excesses you have for you actions is that you “bedazzled” them.” You look to the sky as you throw up your hands. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh come on, Chaos, loosen up. You must have known that I had a motive.” He spoke, eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“I don’t know why I’m even hearing you out right now when I should be inflicting you with a painful death.”

Luke chuckled, clearly humoured, “Like you could, even if you tried.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Castellan. You do remember what happened last time, don’t you?” You spoke, every word coated in venom, “Or do I need to jog your memory?”

Luke raised his hands in front of him with faux surrender.

You scoffed.

“Now is there a reason you brought me here or should I resume what I had planned for you?” You said.

Luke quirked a brow, “I didn’t force you to follow me, Chaos. That’s on you.”

You didn’t reply. Opting to glare at him with hatred.

Luke appeared amused at your anger. He pushed his body off the rock and stalked up to you. His dark eyes captured your gaze as he stood before you. The Hermes boy towered over you, and you had to tilt your head up to see his face.

You didn’t realize how hard you were clenching your fists until you felt the familiar trickle of crimson blood staining your palms. Four crescent wounds adored your palms on each hand.

Luke noticed the small amount of blood seeping from your clenched fists. “You must really hate me.” He said, a smirk remaining on his face, “The feeling is mutual.”

You turn from him to take a deep breath, “I didn’t come here to discuss the obvious, Castellan.” You state. “In fact, I didn’t come here to talk at all.”

That moment you broke. Your walls of restraint crumbled, unleashing all your anger.

You punched Luke. You punched him hard, and you liked it. You were a volcano, rage erupting and flames lapping up anything in its path.

Luke stumbled back at the impact. He recovered quickly, standing tall as he spat blood from his mouth onto the ground. He loved this. Luke loved your rage, and he had no clue why. There was just something about the way your eyes darkened and the way you carried yourself that had Luke drinking in your anger. So instead of recoiling from your touch, he edged you on even more. “Come on, Chaos. That’s all you got? You're Pathetic.”

He obtained the reaction he was looking for. You lunged at him, and the force of your clenched fist came with you. You swung at his face again, but this time he caught your hand.

“Nuh uh, Chaos. Don’t ruin this pretty little face of mine, how else am I supposed to look at you?”

A growl of frustration rose from the back of your throat. Was this idiot seriously flirting with you right now? It seemed like with every passing second you had a stronger desire to permanently remove that perfect smirk adorning his lips. Hands finding his chest you pushed him down with all your power, tackling him to the ground.

Luke groaned as you set yourself over him, mimicking the same position from Capture the Flag. You reached for his arms to restrain him, but he constantly evaded your reach. You continued to go for his arms the height of his limbs forcing you to surge forward. When you finally reached his arms you relaxed, shifting back. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

Luke’s eyes captured yours as something new passed through them.

“If you wanted me on top of you, you should’ve just asked.” You prodded, but he seemed to snap at your words.

Luke pushed you down, snagging his limbs out of your grasp. He gripped your wrist and pulled you to the side, but it was to no avail. Your thighs were gripping his body, fighting to remain. You climbed over his chest, pushing your elbow down to his throat.

“Have I joged your memory yet, Castellan?”

He only groans in response as you move back.

Luke’s eyes are screwed shut, an unreadable expression falling over his face. “Stop moving.” He spoke breathlessly.

Your eyes widen

“What?”

He inhales sharply, “You heard me, Chaos. Stop moving.”

You freeze in place as Luke shoves you off of himself.

Your shock only increases as he stands, pulling you into his grip.

His eyes sweep over you, hair in disarray, shirt stained with dirt from the ground.

“Finally,” He breathes, “You listened.”

His words snap you out of your shock, as you go in for another blow. Luke anticipated this though. He caught your fist and twisted your arm around your back. A whine escaped your lips at the sudden pain.

“You’re always so dam (pun intended) stubborn. Always so hot-headed, it’s incredibly frustrating.” He spoke, pulling on your arm with more force.

“Luke,” You cry out. Silently begging for him to release you, even though you both knew you’d never voice your true meaning. Begging him to let you go would be admitting defeat, and you would never allow that.

“You want me to let go huh? Well, we both know the last time we fought you dislocated my shoulder. I couldn’t use it for days, probably drank more ambrosia than is even possible.”

Your body desperately fights against his, in an aim to free your arm. You try to escape his grasp, but his arms are wrapped securely around you. You involuntarily cry out again as Luke tugs your arm harder.

“Luke,” You whine more desperately this time.

He only allowed another one of his signature smirks to dress his face.

“Stop fighting me Chaos. I am the only victor of this camp. There’s no room for the both of us.” He said, voice hard and cold.

Luke shoved you to the ground pushing you down, but you do your best to resist, fighting against his grip.

“Do you want me to break this little arm of yours?” He asks, anger coating his tone.

You shake your head. The pain made your eyes water, as you spent all your energy holding them in. You didn’t understand why people liked the boy in front of you. He was a monster. Sure he was nice to the newbies, and he adored Annabeth, but to you, he was worse than the Typhon, who rendered all the gods almost entirely powerless. Maybe Luke had a nice side, but you were much more accustomed with the one before you.

“You’re quiet now, aren’t you? Never thought I’d see the day when Chaos, herself has nothing to say.”

You have always hated Luke Castellan. But in this moment you despise him with your entire being. He was humiliating you. He was taking away your glory. Piece by piece Luke was tearing it from you, and you were doing all you could to hold on to it.

During your fight with Luke, you had approached a riverbank. Your father could help you thought. Dad, I need you. You called for your father god of the seas, yet as Luke forced you to the ground you knew that no help would come from Poseidon. Either he didn’t hear or he didn’t want care, either way, you are solely left to defend yourself. And as glory fades, embedding itself into Luke, you are desperate to take action.

As Luke pushed your body down harder you reasoned that you needed to act immediately. So without another thought you rolled to your side, slamming your body weight down on your arm in Luke’s hold. An intense crack was heard and instantly Luke tore his hands from you. You screamed in anguish as you fought the water forming in your eyes.

A long pause of silence filled the air between you and the Hermes boy.

“Chaos…” He spoke quietly. Something that almost sounded like worry filled his voice.

You didn’t care what Luke had to say. All that you could think of was peeling every ounce of his glory and bestowing it upon yourself. You wanted respect. You demanded it. You took a deep breath, standing upright. A dark chuckle fell from your lips, “You were right about one thing, Castellan. There’s no room for the both of us.”

Luke doesn’t make an effort to speak. He just stood there in shock. You were glad, though as you studied him, it appeared that hundreds of emotions passed his eyes, anger, confusion, hatred, but most of all concern.

You took another deep breath to hold in your suffering, but the sheer intensity of the pain was too much. As you opened your mouth, desperate for air to fill your lungs, you were met with nothing. You couldn’t feel anything besides the riveting pain travelling down your entire body. Your mind became fuzzy and your body was dizzy. Before you could even react, you were falling. Down, down, down. Your body went numb, and you were sure that you would’ve hit the ground with a concussion, if Luke hadn’t lunged forward, slipping his arms around you, and catching your fall.

----

A/n I had this all ready to publish, and then half of it like deleted itself...so if the second half of this part sucks, its cause I had to rewrite it in my anger.

Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant

I cannot express how much I loved reading this. The author is so talented <3

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window. 

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

.

to be continued...

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cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

IF ANY OF YALL HAVE LUKE FIC REQUEST PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY

Ikr they are gonna bite their words.

Luke Castellan Moodboard

Moodboard for my upcoming fic <3

Haunted

gf!anakin x reader

Summary: You're best friends with Anakin but you have a boyfriend. Anakin takes it into his own hands to deal with this problem.

Word Count: 3.8k

tw: murder

Anakin sat atop the dark metal picnic bench as he listened to you ramble on about your psychology major. You have always loved psychology and studying the human brain. He allowed you to ramble, twirling a fallen strand of your ponytail between his index finger. 

“Anakin, are you even listening to me?” You ask.

He only hums in response, as he continues to play with your hair. You had been friends with Anakin since your junior year of high school and ever since then, you two have been nearly inseparable. You had always seen him around, as he fell into the popular crowd but it wasn’t until he saved you from the wrath of your ex that you two became quick friends. 

You continue to tell him about the aspects you find fascinating about psychology and how it has helped you learn to read people. 

“So I take it you enjoy your classes?” He says.

You nod, “Of course I do, but the work can be overwhelming at times you know?”

“Mmm,” He agrees before changing the subject. “You still need a ride to Padmé’s tonight?”

You smile sheepishly, “Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, but I just don’t think your boyfriend would approve,” He practically spits the word out as he responds.

You turn around to swat his arm. Anakin has never liked your boyfriend, Jess. Now that you think of it, he has never liked any of your previous boyfriends either. You dismissed the thought of his protective nature ever since he saw your high school ex Nathan hit you. When that happened Anakin had practically beat him to death, successfully scaring your ex from ever coming near you again.

“Don’t worry Ani, Jess won’t mind,”

“What won’t I mind?” Jess asks, approaching you.

“Shesh man, you appeared outta nowhere, practically jumped out of the bushes or something,” Anakin scolds, allowing his annoyance to filter through.

Jess chuckles, “Yeah sorry about that bro, just saw my girl here,” he scrunches his face with a smile, “--and I just had to come see her,” 

Jess leans in to plant a kiss on your lips, coming to sit beside you on the bench. He reaches for your thigh, stroking it up and down with his thumb as his hand trails further north. 

“Jess,” You laugh, “Not here,” You say, pushing his hand with a firm expression.

Anakin scoffs, “Keep it in your pants, Kennedy,” 

His jaw is fixed. Anakin’s grip on your hair tightens as his fists subconsciously clench. 

“Oww Ani, you’re pulling on my hair.” You groan.

Anakin cringed, unravelling his fingers from your wavy locks, “Sorry angel,”

Jess reaches for your head, smoothing your hair down, “Since when were you his angel?” He asks, a certain possessiveness in his voice. 

Anakin turned his eyes to your boyfriend, “Since high school, prick.”

You notice how quickly their conversation is heating up and attempt to de-escalate the situation. 

“Anakin.” You shoot him a stern glare. “Behave,”

He just lets out a dark chuckle, rolling his eyes, “Yes ma'am,” He mocks.

Jess tries to start up a new conversation for your benefit most likely.

“Hey uh, have you heard about the whole psycho killer on the loose?” 

You squeal, “Yes! Of course, I have. Isn’t it crazy? A real-life ghostface killer in our city?”

Jess quirks a brow at your excitement. He opens his mouth to talk before Anakin cuts him off. 

“She’s big into slasher movies. Thinks that all the killers are complex psychologically so she finds them fascinating,” 

“But this guy is real,” Jess states.

You nod, “Yes he is, I just wanna know what makes him do what he does, and in such an extreme way. Isn’t it interesting?” You know that to almost anyone you’d sound freaky, finding serial killers fascinating, but what can you say? You just want to study how utterly complex they are.

Anakin snorts, “Well there’s that, and you also think ghostface is hot.”

You look down in embarrassment, turning a shade of pink as Anakin exposes your secret attraction to the slasher. Jess seems shocked at this revelation, “You find this murder attractive?” He asks, a puzzling expression painted on his face. 

“No, no,” You say, waving your hands for emphasis, “Not the real ghostface, just–uh the ones in the Scream movies.”

Anakin and you had binge-watched the Scream movies last year in your final year of high school, and you would rant to him how hot you thought ghostface was. There was just something about the long robes, mask, and blood-stained knife that had you clenching your thighs. 

“Well then, I know what to wear for the Halloween party at Padmé’s tonight,” Jess said

You giggled as you threaded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy hair. “Uhg–please do Jess, you’d look so hot,”

“Well in that case,” He flashed you a knowing smile, “Anything for my girl,”

Anakin shifted above you, running his hand through his dark blonde hair, something he always did when he was irritated. 

“Would you guys get a room already? This is disgusting.” 

“Aw Anakin, is someone jealous they don’t have a girl?” Jess mocked, slipping his arms around your waist, passive-aggressively emphasizing that you were his girlfriend.

Anakin hated the way Jess touched you, in fact, he hated everything about Jess, but mostly the fact that he was your boyfriend. After all, you were his first, and he was determined to show this to Jess, no matter the consequences. 

“Whatever man,” Anakin played off as he reached for your backpack, “We have to leave anyway to pick up y/n’s costume.”

Jess glared at Anakin, as he studied his face. “Yeah sure bro,” He replied to your best friend before turning to you, “I’ll see you at the party after my shift, wear something nice  for me babe, okay?” 

You giggled, “Always do Jessy.”

Anakin groaned, walking to his car, “Angel you coming?”

You turned from Jess after saying your goodbyes, “Right behind ya!”

________________

You sat in the passenger seat of Anakin’s car, as he drove you to Padmé’s house. The land outside seemed to blend together at the speed that Anakin was driving. He had one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the head of your seat, brushing against your bare shoulders. You were dressed as Black Widow from the MCU and Anakin had black ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You’d brought your make-up with you so you applied what was necessary to complete your look. Anakin made you promise to use your make-up to create a skull face. He was dressed as Tate Langdon from AHS. 

When he parked on the side of the road outside of Padmé’s house you got to work transforming his face. You used your favourite fluffy brush to apply the white powder on Anakin’s face as he laughed, “That tickles. Stop it,” He said between giggles. When you finally finished the two of you exited his car and made your way into the house. 

Once you and Anakin had settled at the party, he took off to get a drink. You went to find your friends. Padmé spotted you first as she beelined towards you. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

“Girl, you look gorgeous!” 

“Thanks,” You replied, as she led you to your other friends, Satine, and Sabé. 

They were dressed in various costumes, Sabé’s with more effort than Satine's, but they both looked wonderful to you. 

“Wow, you all look amazing!” You said, smiling kindly.

A chorus of “thank you’s” was spilled before you were raptured into their gossip.

________________

Anakin was walking back to find you, drink in hand when something, or rather someone bumped into him.

“Watch where you're going man,” Anakin growled as he managed to study the liquid in his red solo cup.

The person who bumped into him looked up to meet his angry gaze. “My bad bro,”

“Jess,” Anakin spat. 

“The one and only,” The other boy replied, dressed in a black t-shirt and baggy black jeans. A cheap plastic ghostface mask adored his face. 

Anakin practically rolled his eyes at his crappy get-up. 

“When y/n said she thought ghostface was hot, she definitely didn’t mean this cheap trash version.” 

“Chill dude, why have you been so on edge lately? Get a drink, get laid, cool off.” Jess said stumbling, obviously already drunk. “That’s what I’m planning to do anyway.”

Anakin bawled his fists. He hated how Jess would talk about y/n behind her back. In all honesty, he didn’t know what his angel saw in him. 

In response to Jess, he only nods before making his way through the mass of bodies filling the house.

________________

It was nearly two in the morning and by now the party had died down leaving only Padmé, Satine, Sabé, Jess, Anakin and you. Satine was watching a movie while Jess started kissing you. He moved his hands up and down your body as you sighed into his kisses. Turns out you did like his ghostface costume. Anakin watched you and Jess with disdain as he leaned against the wall, a beer in hand. Unknown yet to him he had crushed the cup with anger. When Jess led you upstairs he saw red and it took everything in him not to beat your boyfriend to a pulp. Anakin dragged his hand down the length of his face, turning to grab his belongings. 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out now Padmé, see ya girls,” Anakin waved goodbye to the other two girls on the sofa.

“Have a safe drive, Ani!” Padmé called after him. 

Anakin visibly twitched. He hated being called “Ani” by everyone, well that is everyone except for you. 

He managed to mumble a quieted, “thanks,”

Anakin walked out to his car, opening the glove box for the make-up wipes you kept stashed, cleaning the painted skull off his face. He started the car and circled around to the next block. 

________________

“Sabé! We’re out of drinks, I’m gonna grab some more!” Padmé called out to her friend from the kitchen. 

“Okay, thanks, Paddy!” Sabé yelled back before turning her focus back to the rom-com on TV.

Padmé made her way down the stairs, each step creaking with her force. She strode to the cold room, various slacks of expensive meat hanging from the hooks on the ceiling. Padmé maneuvered through the room reaching the end and grabbing a set of six beers. She turned back, beers in hand, weaving through the slacks of hanging meat when she was pulled to the side by a pair of anonymous arms. When the infamous mask came into view she yelped. 

Padmé was shaking. She felt her mouth go dry and her senses numb. “Jess this is not funny, you really scared me.” She attempted to brush it off, laughing, to stay as calm and collected as she could. 

The raspy voice of a modulator spoke. “You think this is funny Padmé?” It asked and suddenly a knife was plunged into her stomach. Instantly pain flooded her body, she screamed, as loud as she could, but her screams were quickly muffed by the figure's gloved hand. 

Tears fell down her face, “What did I ever do to you,” She asked her muffled cries coming through. 

A dark chuckle arose from ghostface, “Nothing.” 

Padmé kicked and pulled away as best she could, blood pouring from the stab wound in her stomach. She knew no one was coming for her and she needed to do all she could to survive.

Padmé delivered a hard blow to the Slasher's stomach and their grip loosened. She bolted from the masked figure, clutching her wound as tears poured from her eyes. 

She was only free of him for seconds before his strong hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back, only for another excruciating thrust of the knife to rip through her flesh. The pain was too much. She could barely breathe. More crimson blood spurted from her back. And with each passing second her body weakened. 

Ghostface pulled on her shoulder to face him, “All out of fight are we now, Padmé?” The deep voice echoed.

Padmé whimpered against his hold, before thrashing in his grip once again. Ghostface humoured her by releasing her watching as she desperately tried to crawl away. He allowed her to get all but ten feet away from him before pouncing on her like a lion to its prey, delivering a swift jab through her collarbone. Padmé let out a blood-curdling scream as ghostface picked her up and squared the previous wound of her shoulder blade with a lone meat hook, releasing her to dangle from the ceiling like a piece of butchered meat. The jagged hook impaled her smooth skin, allowing perfuse amounts of blood to gush from her near-lifeless body. Finally, Padmé’s frame saged, drained of all life. Dark red blood pooled on the floor as ghostface sought out his next victim. 

________________

Sabé and Satine’s giggles were heard through the house as the two laughed at the movie before them. It had been nearly twenty minutes since their friend Padmé went to retrieve more beer, but now they were beginning to worry. 

Satine was the first to speak up, “Sabé do you think Padmé’s alright? It’s been quite a while since she went downstairs.”

Sabé waved her off, “I’m sure she fine, probably just got carried away and started drinking.”

Satine leaned back into the couch, but something about the situation did not feel right.

As the girl neared the end of the movie they were sprawled out on the couch, Sabé nearest to the living room entrance. 

No one heard him. The figure crept into the room without a sound. The only noise that radiated was that of the TV, and the deadly scream of Sabé in suit. 

Satine whipped her head around to the horrific sight of ghostface repeatedly stabbing her best friend. “Sabé!” Satine cried out in fear. 

Blood soaked her clothes, staining the couch. Sabé attempted to move but was too weak to do so. The last words she managed to mutter before her body failed her were “Run,”

Satine screamed in anguish as she ran from her dying friend. She had reached the front door, turning the knob when the killer’s knife was thrown, lodging itself in the back of her neck. Satine collapsed to the flood, choking on the spurting mess of her own blood. 

Ghostface yanked his knife from her blood-covered throat, as he ascended the stairs to the upper floor.

________________

Jess hovered above you, angling his face to kiss you hard. His hands found your hips as he dug into the flesh of your thighs. 

“I love that you’re mine,” He groaned against your mouth. 

You shivered under his hold, before pulling away from him, “Jess, can we talk first,” 

He continued littering your body with kisses, “mmhm,” was the only response he gave. 

You pushed him off you slightly, sitting upright on the bed as he begrudgingly did the same. “I don’t like how you talk with Anakin. He’s the most important person in my life and his approval means the world to me. So could you try to just–I don’t know, just at least try to get along with him.”

Jess sighed, “Damnit y/n!” He screamed, startling you, “I don’t wanna hear about Anakin. I hate how close he is to you, so no, I will not change anything. He is trying to take you from me, you're just too blind to see it.” 

You shut your mouth, teeth grinding against each other in frustration, “Jess, come on, please-”

He cut you off, “No! I don’t care how much you deny it, you have to at least be aware of the way he treats you. That guy literally hates everyone on this planet but you. He is always with you, he’s practically the one dating you. He drives you places, buys you things, calls you pet names and everything!”

“Stop it Jess! Anakin is not trying to take me from you, he’s just protective because of what happened with my last boyfriend. He’s looking out for me. And he is my best friend. So if you don’t get yourself together for me, because Anakin is important to me, then you can leave!” 

Jess stayed quiet, as you awaited anxiously for his answer. Your nails subconsciously picked at the flesh of your knuckles. Eventually, Jess spoke up, “Fine y/n. I’ll do better with Anakin,” he said forcefully.

You smiled in relief because as much as you liked Jess, Anakin would always be your top priority. Jesse offered you a kind smile back before leaning in to place another kiss on your lips. As each kiss progressed, he seemed to become hungrier and hungrier.

Your boyfriend lifted his shirt from his body, pressing you close to his chest. His kisses became more urgent and desperate as his hands travelled lower and lower from your stomach.

One second your boyfriend was kissing you and the next he was thrown to the ground. The ominous ghostface stood before you, and no–this was not the fictional slasher in the movies, this killer was real, he was real and he had a eight-inch metal knife gripped tightly in his gloved hand. And contrary to most you didn’t scream. You were too shocked to be seen face to face with the real ghostface, the California killer stood towering before you and he had just flung your boyfriend to the floor.

Contrary to your reaction, Jess did indeed scream. He scrabbled to his feet, pressing himself impossibly close to the wall of Padmé’s bedroom. 

Ghostface stalked forward to Jesse, knife raised and body fixed. Instead of delivering a fatal blow to the neck, he plunged the knife into Jess’ right hand. Your boyfriend cried out in pain. You stood still as blood spilled from his hand. Ghostface then repeated his action to your boyfriend's other hand. You cringed at the impact of the sharp weapon and Jess’ flesh. Your boyfriend let out another scream of pain.

“Stop, stop, please, stop,” Jess begged, ghostface’s knife, still impaled in his left hand.

The dark raspy voice of the modulator came through. “Pathetic little thing,” It scoffed, yanking the knife from your boyfriend’s broken and bloody hand. 

“Stop.” You spoke, and you almost wish you hadn’t. Ghost face turned to you ever so slowly. He moved with an eerie terror, facing you as your boyfriend gasped in pain. 

“Why should I sweetheart?” The modulated voice asked.

The pet name sent shivers through your body. “Answer me,” He spoke again.

“Because I don’t know your motive.” You stated.

“What if I don’t have one,”

His answer sent terror shooting through you. But then your thoughts drifted to your friends downstairs. “Padmé?” You questioned, a shake in your voice came through, but you did your best to push it down. 

“Dead,” He responded.

“Sabé, Satine?” You asked hopefully.

“Dead.”

He stared you down, waiting for you to ask another question. “What about Jess and I?”

“One of you will die, and the other may live, it depends on how generous I’m feeling.”

You sat there for three erie seconds before nodding. Before a name pounded at your mind.

Ghost face turned from you a brief second to stab his knife into Jess’ heel, pulling the blade down, he severed it from his leg. Jess cried in pain. Ghostface did the same to the opposite heel before swiftly plunging the jagged knife into Jess’ face. You made a move to stand, but ghostface threatened you, “If I see you move another muscle from that bed, I’ll slit lover boy’s throat.”

You remained completely still. The only movement was the rise and fall of your chest. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you made the choice to speak, “What about Anakin?” 

Ghostface froze at the name before straightening himself, “I gutted him like a fish,” 

A broken sob escapes your lips. “No,” you say softly, “No, no no,” Each word ripping the anger from your soul. You screamed, a scream so full of raw heartbreak it burned through your throat.

It was then that you forgot about everyone. You jumped up, neglecting ghostface’s threat and launched yourself at the man who took away your entire world. 

Ghostface stumbled back, clearly not expecting you to attack him with such savage-like force. You didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got hurt, or if he killed you, or even if he killed Jess. Your thoughts ran red. All you close see was Anakin's mauled lifeless body. 

You grabbed the stainless steel water bottle from Padmé’s nightstand and dashed it across ghostface’s mask. His head was knocked back from the impact.

“I will kill you for this!” You screamed in rage. Hitting him over and over. Ghostface held his hands up to shield his face from your vicious attacks. “He was all I had!” You yell, pulling his hands away. “Anakin was my everything!” You scream again, sheer anger coursing through your body. You were now straddling ghostface, your body pressing him into the floor. Ghostface finally wrestles the water bottle away from you, pushing you down, switching places with the previous position you had him in. He pins your wrists above your head as you thrash with maddening anger in his grasp. You’re body finally gives in as you sob in utter heartbreak. Thick tears pour from your face, “What are you waiting for,” You choke, “--just kill me, there’s no point in living without him,” You sob again, sending tremors through your body. 

You’re shaking uncontrollably as ghostface angles his knife to press against your tear-stained cheek, “Now, why would I do that my angel,” he replies.

You’re entire body freezes as you process his words. You slowly lift your trembling hands to the bottom of ghostface’s mask, and when he doesn’t stop you, you tug at the mask, allowing it to fall from the person’s face. Anakin’s face. Your Anakin. He’s okay, he’s here with you right now and that’s all you can think about before you throw your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He reciprocates your actions, kissing you with fervour. 

“I love you,” Anakin whispers.

“You are my everything.” You reply, heart full of emotion, before pressing your lips back to his.

Though he has done unimaginable horrors you still kiss him, because you know that no matter what Anakin is your life, and you are his. Nothing mattered besides him and only him. As Jess bled to death Anakin took his girl, but now in his final moments, he wonders if you really ever his to begin with. Because if you were deranged enough to kiss the man who killed your closest friends, you must have been madly in love with him for the better part of your entire life.

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