So Rogue One gave us three confirmed people who are permitted to see Vader suitless - his butler and two Red Guards. The latter are almost certainly Palpatine’s agents keeping an eye on him, and there’s a chance the former is as well.
Again, this is in Vader’s Castle of Self-Loathing, what should be his sanctum sanctorum of angst. Yet even there, he is under Palpatine’s watchful eye at all times, even when he’s in his most vulnerable state, limbless and naked. No privacy, no dignity, and nothing he can do about it.
It kind of gives some fun context to that issue from the comics where Vader breaks the neck of a stormtrooper who accidentally sees him without his helmet. He’s lashing out violently to maintain one of the very last illusions he has of any shred of control over his life, even as he symbolically clings to his own suffering.
It also gives some fun context to Anakin voluntarily being unmasked (not even unmasking, but being unmasked ) in front of Luke, finally choosing to allow someone to see his vulnerability, finally knowing he is loved, finally capable of seeing another person and being seen as a person, face to face.
A/N: Apparently it’s fluff day! so here, have some fluffy smut!! this was actually a request:
well i would ask for some very fluffy smut with our beloved murder husband, maybe inspired by the bloody shirtless scene from the trailer? don’t get me wrong i looooooooooooove your hardcore frank smut but i would definetly also love me some fluffy love makin!
so here ya go sweet lil anon! some fluffy love makin’! (also i’m sorry if this sucks! i was feelin a little off :/
Warnings: smut, obvi. fluffy smut, unprotected sex, language
A bang from the other room has you
jumping awake and sitting up in bed, looking around frantically for the source
of the noise. You notice Max isn’t at
the end of the bed where he fell asleep, and you feel a bit of panic before
realizing if there was someone he didn’t know in the apartment, he’d be going
crazy. So it must be Frank.
You look over at the clock on your
nightstand and groan. At two in the
morning. You sigh and toss the blankets
off of you, grabbing one of Frank’s barely worn flannels off the floor and
pulling it tight around you. Your shitty
apartment had even shittier heating, and the swift onset of fall had left
little time for you to brace yourself for the cold.