Clone Wars One Shots

Pretty Boy

Hey everyone! I'm finally back, well kinda, I realized I haven't posted on this platform in awhile so I pasted one of my stories on A03 here. Again, sorry for my disappearance... love you all, and I hope you enjoy!

TW: Discussions of past rape and self harm

"Stay still, pretty boy." The man whispered in Anakin's ear while his hands ran up and down the boy's sides. "It'll hurt less."

Anakin shivered against the man's touch. He didn't want this, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up with his mother and bury his head in her shoulder.

But those luxuries weren't for slaves.

"I only want to help." The man purred, wrapping a finger around Anakin's blonde curls. "You're really pretty, did you know that?"

Anakin's mouth began to tremble.

"Please get off me, sir." He said, trying to slink away from the touch. "I don't want this."

The man grumbled and wrapped his hands tighter around Anakin's body.

"You don't get a say in this, slave." He spat, tracing two fingers against the boy's cheek. "Pretty things are to be used, not wasted away in that dirty shop."

Anakin's eyes began to water as he continued to wiggle around in the tight grasp.

"Please," He pleaded, "please I'll do anything else. Just please let go."

"You say please too much," the man growled, his face close to Anakin's mouth. "I don't like that."

Anakin froze under the man's intense stare. Suddenly a weird sensation washed over his mind; clouding his head with strong feelings of lust and want seeping from the man's presence.

The boy didn't want this. He didn't want to be able to feel what the man felt towards himself. He didn't want these weird powers.

Anakin just wanted to go home. He didn't want to be pretty.

The brown-haired man spoke again, while his rough fingertips continued to pet Anakin's skin.

"I think the slave needs to be punished." He said, his dark brown eyes once again staring directly into Anakin's blue orbs. "I think the pretty boy needs to be taught a lesson."

The boy's body froze.

And as the man silently took off his tunic and swiped off Anakin's worn shirt, Anakin felt himself retreat into the depths of his mind as his body grew limp.

He wished he was born ugly.

                 —————————

Anakin Skywalker stood in his small fresher aboard his flagship, The Resolute , and traced a calloused fingertip across the scar over his right eye.

The Knight never told anyone exactly how he acquired the long scar, to be honest no one ever really asked. And besides, if anyone did- he wouldn't even know what to say.

Anakin guessed he could say something about a fight with a Sith or an injury while flying- but that just made him sound weak.

So, he decided it was better to not say anything at all.

Anakin sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. He really wanted to go back to the temple to relax or maybe hang out with Obi-Wan, but he was far away from Coruscant- deep into the Outer-Rim.