[fic] i don't know you anymore
Title: i don't know you anymore
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: Rish (for disturbing imagery of violence and sex)
Spoilers: RotS (specifically the novelization which has Palpatine continuously questioning Padmé's sexual reputation)
Disclaimer: Obviously, Star Wars is not mine.
Summary: So, the RotS game has an alternate ending wherein Anakin wins at Mustafar. This is just my idea of the aftermath...
Holds Obi-wan’s throat with his metal hand and forces Obi-wan’s saber hand back and back, until the blue blade fizzles into his former master’s throat.
And it feels so good when it happens, when the blade goes through and cauterizes and the body shakes in the death-throes.
He always hated Obi-wan.
Padmé is still unconscious on the docking platform. He thinks - for one small, infinitesimal second - that he should leave the bitch where she lays.
He picks her up, of course. Feels how the baby’s heavy on her belly, distending over that treacherous cunt of hers. The one she just can’t seem to keep closed.
He wonders if it’s even his baby. Because Force knows he was careful. Always making sure her day was good, using…other methods…when it wasn’t. He’s not even sure if he was with her nine months ago.
She comes to as he presses a cool cloth to her head. Leave it to the Nubians to waste good water on their ships. Pipes and taps that just let it out, and he hates Naboo suddenly, intently. Like he hates Obi-wan, hates the Jedi, hates himself.
She doesn’t speak, just looks up at him with those big, lying eyes of hers, filling up with tears like she knows what he’s done to his former master. And, he supposes, she must. Otherwise he’d be gone, and Obi-wan would be here.
He smiles down at her. “How are you feeling, my love?” The voice is wrong, he knows. Too harsh, too raspy, but he can’t pretend. Not anymore.
She shakes her head, tries to say something, but the words won’t come, and she’s so beautiful. Still so very, very beautiful like she was all those years ago that he can’t keep himself from bending over her. Stealing a kiss from those pink lips.
She’s his. No matter what sort of creature is growing inside her. No matter if she’s fucked Obi-wan and the entire Senate in their marriage bed. No matter what she’s done, she’s his. She always be his.
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: Rish (for disturbing imagery of violence and sex)
Spoilers: RotS (specifically the novelization which has Palpatine continuously questioning Padmé's sexual reputation)
Disclaimer: Obviously, Star Wars is not mine.
Summary: So, the RotS game has an alternate ending wherein Anakin wins at Mustafar. This is just my idea of the aftermath...
Holds Obi-wan’s throat with his metal hand and forces Obi-wan’s saber hand back and back, until the blue blade fizzles into his former master’s throat.
And it feels so good when it happens, when the blade goes through and cauterizes and the body shakes in the death-throes.
He always hated Obi-wan.
Padmé is still unconscious on the docking platform. He thinks - for one small, infinitesimal second - that he should leave the bitch where she lays.
He picks her up, of course. Feels how the baby’s heavy on her belly, distending over that treacherous cunt of hers. The one she just can’t seem to keep closed.
He wonders if it’s even his baby. Because Force knows he was careful. Always making sure her day was good, using…other methods…when it wasn’t. He’s not even sure if he was with her nine months ago.
She comes to as he presses a cool cloth to her head. Leave it to the Nubians to waste good water on their ships. Pipes and taps that just let it out, and he hates Naboo suddenly, intently. Like he hates Obi-wan, hates the Jedi, hates himself.
She doesn’t speak, just looks up at him with those big, lying eyes of hers, filling up with tears like she knows what he’s done to his former master. And, he supposes, she must. Otherwise he’d be gone, and Obi-wan would be here.
He smiles down at her. “How are you feeling, my love?” The voice is wrong, he knows. Too harsh, too raspy, but he can’t pretend. Not anymore.
She shakes her head, tries to say something, but the words won’t come, and she’s so beautiful. Still so very, very beautiful like she was all those years ago that he can’t keep himself from bending over her. Stealing a kiss from those pink lips.
She’s his. No matter what sort of creature is growing inside her. No matter if she’s fucked Obi-wan and the entire Senate in their marriage bed. No matter what she’s done, she’s his. She always be his.