#Vector Hyllus x Imperial Agent

[rubensmuse]

fucking cuckoobananapants crazy to me that (kotfe spoilers) reuniting with a romanced Vector on a female imperial agent save will end previous expansion-content romances. like i know all of them do, and that's already stupid, but it's especially stupid with Vector. my man is a hive mind you think he's still monogamous???

[artestarr]

Cloaks of Dust and Sand

“Agent, is this the correct place to be doing this?” -- Vaughn is wanting, and knows a few places to hide.

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Vector Hyllus/Male Imperial Agent

Word Count: 1697 (complete)

Warnings: Sexual content, mild hurt/comfort

[squirrel-art]

warm-up that i got sick of like, 2/3rds of the way through. this is how she smooches Vector when they’re apart <3

[fabeong]

Honestly this could go for any of the SWTOR dark-siders with a light-leaning love interest, but for me this has always been my Imperial Agent and Vector <3

“I’d kill for you. Please ask me to kill for you.” “No.” Is a top tier ship dynamic no I do not take criticism

[dirthara-dalen]

Alliance Alert: A Call for help

Requirement: Destroying the Ephemeris droid in the Star Fortress above Alderaan

Contact: Theron Shan

Overview:

Ligastar, we have intercepted an interesting message designated for you. It was encrypted and it came shortly after you defeated the Ephemeris droid in the Star Fortress above Alderaan. I recognize the encryption used in the message as one used by former members of imperial intelligence. Lana believes this message came from a former Cipher agent, Cipher 9. It seems he is asking for help in regards to Zakuul abducting Killiks. You should meet with him as he would greatly help with our Intelligence network.

—

Vilkas knows he is in trouble when Zakuul keeps taking Killiks. When they start taking joiners he actively starts fighting back but taking Vector makes things personal for him. He reaches out to Theron after learning that someone hit the Star Fortress. He enlists Ligastar to help him free the joiners and rescue Vector. Once Vector is free and the Fortress is gone he joins the alliance working as, well…an agent just like he had done for imperial intelligence.

[tiredassmage]

betting on a sunrise

I insist that there was a missed opportunity for Nik to drain that Cassandra Sunrise right in front of Hunter and be almost bored about it, so my brain insisted that we may as well write something to fix it. So, here we are: we'll let Nik steal the spotlight of being Nine for just a moment so that I can have this as a little amusement.

Also posted to ao3(x). And, ofc, Imperial Agent spoilers for the chapter 2 prelude, The Master Strategem.

rating: teen (some swearing); characters: hunter, the imperial agent, shoutout to our best support vector hyllus

Neon lights so vibrant and eclectic they’d be burned into the back of your eyelids for another three days, even in your sleep. At least Nar Shadaa never changed - a reliable bastion of backstabbing, gambling, backstabbing, cartels and street gangs.

And backstabbing, of course.

Still enough to make Nikihlus’s lip curl back slightly over his teeth. And still, he’d rather his chances here than the cloying egos of Dromund Kaas. Or that killer humidity, for another.

“Many auras here oscillate… wildly, agent.” Vector Hyllus cocks their head with the faintest trace of a frown at the corner of their lips. A blue twi’lek woman in a fit of laughter stumbles into their shoulder on her way out with her companion without so much as a glance back. “It is… interesting to sort through.”

“Been to many a cantina, Vector?”

“The nest is not without its celebrations, if that is what you are inquiring, agent.”

The zabrak nearly rolled his eyes, though settled for inclining his head towards the bar. “You’ll have to forgive me if I pass on participating, given the opportunity.”

“Each to their own taste,” they replied lightly. Their eyes drifted across the room as the pair picked their way around a few tables, while the agent was clearly concerned with making for the bar. “We believe it best we do not imbibe at this time. We shall watch your back.”

Nikihlus cast a glance at them over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.” He gestured towards the wall at the end of the bar. “Try to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Noted.” Certainly they both knew that was why Kaliyo had not accompanied them to this particular rendezvous.

It was curious enough Imperial Intelligence would have one alien Cipher, he could’ve argued. Not that they’d make half so odd a pair here on the Hutt moon, and Hyllus was not exactly much less of a curiosity. Nik could’ve likely enjoyed the higher threat of something starting a brawl with the Rattataki at his side, but rules were rules with their Imperial masters.

For now, at least. And he wasn’t half as much as interested in trying to explain Djannis’s plan to Keeper’s stiff lips. He was, perhaps, on enough of the woman’s bad side as it was.

Nikihlus sighed as he finally rested his arms against the bar. Something strong ought to take the edge off of the work. At the very least, it was far preferable to wasting time wondering if Keeper thought this was some amusing jest for what had transpired on the Dominator. And far more preferable than trying to puzzle out that particular master’s ideas of fate. It was more than enough to make a man miss working for the Hutts.

“Well, hello there.”

Nik closed his eyes and buried a groan somewhere beneath his stomach before he let his eyes slide to his right and settle on the blonde perched against the bar two seats down already wearing a smile.

At least make it good.

The man opened an arm to gesture to a glass beside him. “I suppose she didn’t want to finish her drink. Perhaps I can interest you in what’s left of a Cassandra Sunrise?”

Nik weighed flashing a scowl against the proffered nearly-full glass. And Hyllus’s absence from his side to comment on accepting drinks on the job - from strangers in cantinas, no less.

“Perhaps,” Nik allowed a drawl over the word and shifted to lean against one arm on the bartop - a better mirror of his would-be company. “What’ll it cost me?”

The blonde’s smile grew, and rather pleased, too, with a chuckle to match. “Ah, are all Imperial Ciphers so mistrusting?”

Nik stiffened, breath stilling in place as golden eyes narrowed slightly.

Enough to make the blonde laugh again. He pushed off the bar to close the distance between them and slid the glass closer. “Oh, I’m sorry. Pretty presumptuous of me. Though… I suppose I could just have to keep looking for that Cipher somewhere else… Imperials wouldn’t have such a good sense of direction down here with little old us, would they?”

Nik blew a sharp exhale out of his nostrils. Cocky. He pressed a smile to his lips as his company turned like he was about to leave and took up the glass. “It’d certainly be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“Very,” the blonde agreed. He perched back against the bar. “Couldn’t imagine it’d have anything to do with that Cipher wanting to change sides.”

Nik hummed as he raised the glass to his lips. Not for the faint of heart. “Careful,” he mused, “I might start believing you got this for me instead of your lady friend.”

That grin glittered like a Hutt statue. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. You certainly gave me enough time. Made the check at the spaceport.”

The kind of burn that might fry the horns off a krayt dragon, that Sunrise. Nik swallowed and held out the glass to inspect the remaining contents. “Reckon your Imperial ‘friend’ would like that, would you..?” He glanced at the blonde over the rim of the glass.

“Codename Hunter, Strategic Information Service.”

Nik flashed a wry smile. “Trying to kill me already, hm?”

Hunter shrugged. “That’s what we’re going to find out, if you still plan on playing along.” For a mercy, that obnoxious little dangle on his lips seemed to be quieted as he eyed Nik, glass to lips again. “Nothing’s free-”

“Except the drink?”

Hunter’s smile dropped, leaving behind only dark eyes that Nik met silently over the glass. “Job first, then we’ll see if you’re worth anything. No sob stories, no complaints, no questions. Then I’ll consider introducing you.”

With all pleasantries discarded, Nik merely inclined his head slightly. “Better keep talking, then.” The Sunrise would only last so long, after all. Without breaking eye contact, he tipped the glass just enough to offer a steady burn.

“There’s a new factory in town, Cipher - a courtesy of a little deal between Nem’ro the Hutt and your dear Empire. It’s supposed to manufacture hunters, crawlers, Jedi-killers… All the best - and nasty - stuff. You’re going to do something about it.”

Nik’s brow raised briefly as he swallowed. Of course I will. Almost empty. “I’ve been known to deal with a few Hutts,” he said. “Here I was thinking it’d almost been too long.”

“Tempting as that may be, save your thoughts of reunions.” Nik rolled his eyes and took up the glass again. “You’ll need your Cipher clearance. Security’s tight, but automated. Get inside. Get me reconnaissance. We talk again when I know what you’re dealing with, and we make this little problem disappear. Deal?”

Nik set down the glass heavily on the bartop and rolled his neck. “Thought you already knew that much, no? Hunters, killers…?”

Nothing shifted in those dark eyes. “Like you said. Try to make it worth my credits.”

“What? Your bosses not like cantina tabs on your write-offs?”

“You deal, or you don’t.” Hunter turned to leave. “We’ll know either way, Cipher. But the next round’s on you. I know how to reach you, so you’ll know where to go. Within an hour, or I might have to come looking for my credits, and your work could get very complicated.”

Nik’s narrowed eyes followed his back as he left. Vector rejoined him as the blonde turned a corner out of the cantina and beyond view. “Agent?” He could hear the mild frown on the Joiner’s face without looking for it.

“So goes our man,” Nik gestured towards the doorway lightly.

“And? We… hope you minded yourself."

Nik hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll see, I suppose. Won’t we?” He blinked and glanced back towards the bar before he dug in his pocket and tossed a few credits out by the empty glass. To cover the tab or, perhaps, to make a bet. “We shall see, my friend. Come then. I’ve a feeling Kaliyo will be jealous for not bringing her along, so we may as well make it a damn good story.”

[omgkalyppso]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @littleplasticrat. ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ Thank you!

I'm going to grab a bit from a bunch of ideas. Some of which I may have shared before, but I think it's fine. I have some new followers. 👋

I'll tag @recurringwriter, @razrogue, @ghostwise, @bladesandstars, @allycryz, @lucius-the-sinful, @sevarix-blogs, @bosspigeon, @bhaalbaaby, @tadpole-apocalypse, @the-eldritch-it-gay and YOU. And I encourage you to reshare old wip's regardless of progress if there's nothing new you want to share. <3

Different stuff from the swtor imperial agent oc x Vector Hyllus wip than I shared last time:

“Vector,” she beckoned, “what emotions do you see in my face?” And he blinked, opening his mouth to answer before she added, “What colors do you read in my aura?” He closed his mouth again, swallowing, taking more time to consider. Politely, he moved his hand from her thigh to the side of the bed, and saw instantly in her expression and aura that this was the wrong decision. Quickly, he moved to answer before making another mistake, “You appear … relaxed. Non-judgmental, as you have ever been in the privacy between us. Content and comfortable,” he shifted his legs up onto the bed, bending them beneath himself as he sat closer, “but contrasted by bright red and gold: love and joy. Soft pinks and purples,” he released her hand to slide his fingers up to her elbow again, risking more skin contact, more arm contact, “like a resting nebula. Gentle blue.” He wondered if he should describe her physically next. He rarely did. She never asked. The speckles of black on her lip were as alluring to him as the brightest fruits tempted the sweetest tongues, the jagged shapes of her markings were as lightning and veins of precious metals in the heart of a nest, the curve of her chin, the set of her brow — she was beautiful, and capable of falsehoods, and diplomacy, and destruction, and love. So much love. He lowered his gaze as he finished his answer to her question, “It leads us to conclude that you are happy with how things are, if slightly distracted by—” “By your worrying, Vector,” Cipher Nine chastised, and his gaze found hers again easily, a blush growing on his cheeks. She squeezed the high part of his forearm, pressing her thumb into the soft flesh at the inside of his elbow as she’d once learned to do an age ago, and their shared smile filled Vector’s chest with such aching relief. “I may not see all of it, as you do,” Cipher Nine allowed, “but that doesn’t mean your subtleties escape me.”

Concepts for Astarion's parents: Antoinelle and Rasileth (ray-sill-eth):

Blocked dialogue between Étoile and Astarion for after my amended The Pale Elf climax where Astarion becomes a vampire, in place of either remaining a spawn or rising as the vampire ascendent. At his grave:

Étoile: Is the burial part of the transformation? Or did he just do that to you too? Astarion: No, it just … made me weak. Made me grateful to see him. To see anyone, I suppose. He may have thought it was funny, or maybe he just didn't have a discreet way to haul my corpse around at the time. Étoile: Who would have arranged for the tombstone? Did you have an estate? Was it Cazador, or someone you knew? Astarion: My … my parents. Étoile: Are they alive? Astarion: (as a warning) Étoile. Étoile: (imagining the disaster of encountering them without warning in the street) It's important. Astarion: They cannot see me. There's almost nothing left of the man I was. Certainly their son is long dead, buried here, while I stalked the streets like a ghost. Étoile: You can reinvent yourself. You can choose a new name and a new direction. And still I will cherish you, and your many incarnations. But you were stolen from them. If we survive this, I would like to meet them with you. To give yourself closure, if nothing else. Astarion: I have closure. They're as dead to me as much as I am to them. I'm here. I'm here! I survived. I won. They didn't even know I was missing. It would shame them to have even a fraction's worth of context for what I survived. And I… I don't want their pity, their grief. [a pause, hysterical] Their relief?! Should they have any, would only be burdensome. I can't carry it.

Possible scene concept for Upper City award ceremony involving Astarion's mother:

Astarion's Mother is a clerk / archivist in Baldur's Gate's Parliament, and they are there to receive some award / recognition / payment for their part in saving the city. And recognizing him, she reaches out to him in the crowded official venue where the Watch and important players are present -- she calls his name, she holds his arm; and his expression reveals in an instant he knows her, that this is his name, but his companions are scattered (because he doesn't actually (yet?) want to be recognized in high society while the future of the vampire spawn and himself are still contentious) and so he is free to deny her: she's mistaken. He uses some magic to make the lie take, but there are failsafes for this sort of thing in this kind of venue. [An important character (probably Florrick)] has charge of the guards, all pointed on him now, bringing more attention to the moment than it might've had otherwise. And it perhaps mirrors something he made a ruling on. Maybe he condemned a g/ur for improper use of magic on forbidden grounds against a family member, when the g/ur people insisted repeatedly that the law had no business over familial disputes. They were so often condemned by society, they did not mean to condemn one another. Let them sort out their own business, they pleaded, and he refused. In the "present" Étoile asks if there isn't a fine they can pay, and the important character says if Astarion releases the spell, then a fine can be discussed. His mother is glassy-eyed as the magic fades, but addresses him no more, and says to [the important figure] there should be no charges, and leaves.

Sharing two more wips more blocked dialogue (between Wyll and an oc (Zavorys)) and a few sentences as a sexual scene concept (between Étoile and Raphael) below the cut.

Years post-canon. Maybe seven, maybe more than ten. Wyll and Zavorys are married with three children (of which two are adopted):

After a long day, Wyll holds a book, staring into space instead of reading, while Zavorys half-sleeps at his side. They can hear him thinking. Zavorys: Wyll? Wyll: Yes, my sweet? Zavorys: You seem distracted, is everything alright? Wyll: I want to ask you something. Zavorys: Something serious? Wyll: Something important, but not serious. Zavorys: Then can it wait until the morning? I'm tired. Wyll: Yes, it can wait until morning.

Sunrises on the bedroom. Zavorys rises first, they make a mockery of his name and press a cold nose into his neck. He has some humor about it, and pulls them into tired kisses. Zavorys: Wyllace? Wyll: Mm. Mmm? Hm-hmm. Zavorys: You had something important you wanted to talk about? Wyll: I did, I— Do you want to eat first? Be with the children? Zavorys: We have some time. Whatever you prefer, it's your concern. Wyll: I love you. (more kisses) My beautiful, considerate wife. Zavorys: (more kisses) My handsome, deflecting husband. Wyll: (handsy) No one could blame me for my distraction when your lips are so soft, when your body is so lush, when my heart and yours dance with such passionate familiarity. Zavorys: (good-spirited warning) Wyll. Wyll: (a sigh as he drops his hands) I want to talk about our relationship. I want to talk about exclusivity. Zavorys: Go on. Wyll: I … love what we have. What we share. I don't want to upset your trust in me if this subject is too difficult. Zavorys: I can handle a conversation, Wyll. Wyll: In my early adventures as the Blade of Frontiers, you know that I took lovers. A sweet maiden's kiss, a gentleman's tryst, a lover under the stars. And some of them were sad partings, but most of them were not … and they didn't feel … like love, or even like possibility. From this, and the stories of my youth, and from my father's loneliness … I used to think that romance, for me, would only take one shape: a single partner, a traditional, dedicated, all-consuming love that could move the heavens in its purity and devotion. Zavorys: And now? Wyll: And now that I have that, you mean? Zavorys: Don't be smart. Wyll: (agreeing) And now. (sincere) I would either hesitate to call any love pure, or I would not hesitate to call all love pure. I've seen the ease with which Halsin's joy infects his partners, the work Étoile puts in to ensure their lovers feel appreciated, the care Shadowheart takes in maintaining boundaries, with her lovers, and her religion, and her children — and it doesn't look so different to the loves I've come to know, with you, with our family, or our friends. And so it emboldens me to ask, if you would want to — consider, at your own pace, in your own time — inviting Étoile and Astarion, to … being part of our relationship. They might be frustrated with me in this because of years ago, but they would be gentle with you, and I would be willing — and interested in putting in the work to see if this could agree with us, to find and feel love in this way. Zavorys: (gentle mockery) You're so delicate. Wyll: Hardly.

Zavorys: Has this been on your mind since we saw them necking Zevlor in that alleyway? Wyll: Since before, but … it didn't help. Zavorys: (more teasing) It did help. Wyll: Or yeah, it did. Zavorys: (considerate) With forewarning, I can't imagine myself feeling angry about you kissing another, but I don't know… What if they didn't want me? Would you still want to pursue them alone? Wyll: I think they'd reject us both rather than only one of us if it came to that, but … I don't know. I don't think I could be comfortable without you there at first, even if I had your support, but if we did take a lover or a partner, and then wanted to try individual relationships … No, I don't know. I don't know if I'd be secure enough for that. It would depend too much on the person or couple you chose. Zavorys: (a little sad, kneeling over his waist) That's about me again, Wyll. I asked about you. Not initially then, but eventually. Could you see yourself courting couples without me? (insistent) Because I could. I could see us working, as we always have — as we always will, even if your relationships took a different shape than mine. (considerate) You get this guilty set of your shoulders, this frown, when you worry … but there's nothing to worry about. It's okay. Wyll: (vulnerable) I love you. Zavorys: As I love you. (kisses) Invite them to dinner some day before a weekend, and give me at least three days warning. Wyll: There's five days until this coming weekend. Zavorys: There's no rush. I don't know how long it's been on your mind before asking me, but I know you rush yourself. When you're ready. When you want. Wyll: And you? Have you been wanting this without telling me? Zavorys: No, but— I love love, and we know Étoile and Astarion well. If they would want to take me to dinner and kiss you silly — there's a lot they'd do as just our friends, help with the children, with decisions about our lives — it might just be because they are both nosy as all get out, but I do need less thought for them than if you'd have suggested ... Lady Jannath. Wyll: (laughing) Not Lady Jannath. Zavorys: (laughing) Be kind, she's just a woman. Wyll: Sorry. (clearing his throat) You're right though. I understand what you're saying. Zavorys: Good. Now get dressed, we can still be on time for breakfast.

Whether modern setting or canon-setting-AU situation where Étoile and Raphael hate fuck. I just have these sentences on my phone to inject into a project whenever I have a whole scene or setting that suits:

“You'll have to blindfold me so I can cum, because just the sight of you—” Étoile slapped Raphael across the face to silence his insult, and Raphael made to laugh victoriously, but then their large, determined hand gripped around his throat, and Raphael couldn't even be bothered with a cursory display of offense, his lips twisting instantly into a bitten hiss that was half challenge and all relief.

[certified-anakinfucker]

stolen from @lanabenikosdoormat and @miraluking-respectfully 👁️👁️

1 / Favorite Planet — Balmorra (ImpSide)

2 / Favorite Sith Lord — Darth Vindican

3 / Favorite Companion — Vector Hyllus

4 / Favorite Ship — X-70B Phantom-Class Prototype

5 / Favorite Class Story — Imperial Agent

6 / Favorite Expansion — Knights of the Eternal Throne

7 / Favorite Species — Sith Pureblood (sorry Twi’leks)

8 / Favorite Jedi Master — Ardun Kothe

9 / Favorite Lightsaber Color — Black-Pink

[moontheoretist]

This moment when you use SWTOR CC to make images for the adult kids of your ships from the game.

[Nobody can tell me that there is no technology in Galaxy Far Far Away that can give babies to gays, so... :D]

Darth Acina x Sith Inquisitor (female)

Vector Hyllus x Imperial Agent

Arcann x Sith Inquisitor (female)

Aristocra Saganu x Imperial Agent

Andronikos Revel x Sith Inquisitor (Isana Revel)

[chaos-monkeyy]

Wanky little SWTOR smutlet! The scent of his pulse

Posted this one the other night and didn't have a chance to put it up here... Cipher Nine (aka my swtor-Fenn) getting some action again. But like, poetical and pretty.

(I'm actually really proud of this one, it's a little different from what I usually do and it was not easy but I enjoyed it 🙈)

That shit's canon, how was I supposed to not ship them?

Vector smiles as they pilot the speeder across the wide-open landscape, surrounded by the familiar, comforting song of the hive and the unfamiliar, exciting song of the planet and its life. They love the new of it all; the unknown becoming known, whether in the bustle of a city— surrounded by the loud, yet ordered, minds and life— or the relative quiet of the open country— that life quieter, spread out but vast, wild and deep the way population centres rarely are.

And of course, they feel the increasingly familiar song of Cipher Nine. His body is warm and solid on the speeder behind Vector; his presence vibrant, alert, steady. And as Vector steers them around a high rocky outcropping, and the only nearby life is the soil and the plants and a smattering of calm, nonsentient native creatures, the Agent’s song begins to…

shift.

Vector smiles again, and slows the speeder a touch, and gently pulls back from the connection to the nest. Not severing it, never that; but… muting it. Tucking it away to rejoin fully later.

Because this particular variation of Cipher Nine’s song is also increasingly familiar, and more than welcome, and Vector is in the mood to— quite selfishly— keep what’s coming to himself for the moment.

[drthrvn]

the starcrusher legacy + text posts, pt. 3/?

[artestarr]

Lunch Break

Vaughn, Cipher Nine, stays back on the Phoenix to work. The crew is off ship on an excursion.

Vector brings him lunch, and a chance to relax.

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Vector Hyllus/Male Imperial Agent

Word Count: 1888 (complete)

Warnings: Sexual content

[robotcoplegacy]

I have a problem

[the-chavoi-legacy]

so, a quick introduction to my number one blueberry/cipher agent/imperial ghost mrenn’edar’iskaa (aka nedari iskaa):

he’s a relatively neutral agent who, bc he was raised within the empire, genuinely believes in protecting its citizens - there’s a very high probability that if he had the ability, he would find a way to dismantle the system keeping sith in power

the past few years haven’t been easy on him, especially after going undercover in the SIS and getting dragged back into all this Jedi-Sith drama  with Revan, but he’s coping - mainly by learning how to care for killiks and seeing how he fares as a painter and using every loophole he knows about to make life difficult for the dark council

while he is chiss, he’s never been affiliated with the ascendancy in an official  sense - the only things that tie him to it are a few, hazy memories of his homeworld and two strangers he’s never considered to be his parents, and a piece of paper recognizing his status as an imperial citizen (i have some ideas about how the empire raises its free citizens to support and believe in it, and how that might occur with future generations of willing allies)

also:

constantly wondering how many credits it would take to fuck off and avoid the empire and the republic for the rest of his life

checking the background of every republic agent he comes across to make absolutely sure they aren’t hunter

avoiding every message sent to him by a member of the dark council

using his droid disguise from watcher x every single chance he gets

remembering bad things vividly

flirting with a republic spy

[blairextraordinaire]

It's been a long time since we met in that cave. It hasn't always been good, but you've been worth it.

The Imperial Agent, after Vector asks to marry them.

My heart. Playing through this romance has been so great, because both characters *grow* so much, and can become better because they rely on one another. The respect Vector has for the Agent is only matched by how much he loves her, and it's just really sweet and I love my bug husband.

[oblivionlegacy]

Yes! I love him x)

some agent art while i play  🔪

this is alef and his two loves are the empire and eyeliner