#also the way you acted and the things you did shows you also didn't get over anything that happened to you

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART TWO

Some fluff and a little spice. Don't know if ill do the smut in part three or four, we will see how things develop. Either way it gets hot so! You were warned!

You woke up the next morning with a huge headache. Not a great start to a day where you were scheduled to do large batches of magic.

You swore as you got up, swore as you made your coffee, swore as you did some last minute rereading of the soil testing spell you already knew by heart.

You tried to nap, but couldn't get your sore muscles to relax, so Lyith found you in quite a disgruntled mood. He frowned.

“We can do this tomorrow if you are not feeling well. You smell like you are about to throw a fit.”

You shook your head and took a long, cleansing breath.

“I'm really fine. Im excited about meeting your friend though. Its not everyday you meet a Bee-man.” You cracked a small smile.

Lyith gave you one last appraising look before sighing and beckoning you out of the house. Once you were on the porch step he held out his arms. You stared at him, eyes raised.

“Uh, do you want another hug? For support or something?”

His nose flared and he seemed to be failing to keep a straight face.

“It'll be faster to fly you to the hive. Its a good five mile walk for you if we don't. And with so much to do, I doubt my friend is going to be patient with us.”

You blinked.

“Oh. Um. Okay.” Your heart tightened. You started to feel a little sick.

“If you are scared of heights, I will stay close to the ground. It is faster that way anyway.”

He reached forward and patted your head affectionately. “I don't have to dodge branches that way, so it is a… “win win”? That's how the saying goes, right?”

His hand stayed on your head and you had to admit it made you feel a little braver. His smile was so gentle, it sent a wave of calm through you. 

“Yeah I can do that.” You swallow and force the ends of your lips upwards. 

Lyith holds his arms out again, and you walk into them, letting him hoist you up, and take off. The sound of his wings were particularly loud now and you noticed it had a habit of spreading his lemony scent around. 

You quickly diverted your attention to the feeling of the wind stretching back your skin. Which only made you realize that Lyith had nuzzled his neck close to your own face. You had to admit that the warmth felt nice against the cold spring air. It may have been Lyiths own way of making sure you didn't freeze too much. Your mind lingered on his touch, which was acting like a scarf, in the face of rollercoaster-like winds. Your stomach turned.

It was only 6 minutes until Lyith dropped you off in a small glade. The clearings floor was covered in grasses and large orange flowers. The flowers themselves were funnel shaped with purple star like splotches in the middle. The air was fragrant. 

Lyith grabbed your arm gently. Out from the other side of the clearing came what could only be another bee-man. Lyiths face lit up and he floated upwards, making a few excitable jerking motions. The other Bee-men copied his motions and let out a lovely hum sound, which Lyith harmonized. The two both looked at you and Lyith started the introductions.

“This is the witch I was talking about. And this-” he gestured to the bee-man by giving them a clingy hug. “-is Rena. She is a scholar, and also looks after a quarter of these… gardens, is the term you use. She has given you permission to use magic in her garden.”

“Only if you show me you can help, that is. Witches are so rare these days. I have to measure your…” she seemed to be chewing the word, “Qual-it-ications?”

“Qualifications.” Corrected Lyith, adjust some Rena's long strawberry blond hair. She had the same big black eyes as Lyith, but her form was shorter. Sturdier. But just as fluffy. Unlike Lyith, she had a second pair of hands, which she had crossed over her chest. Her gaze was curious, but her nose was slightly wrinkled in concern.

“Lyith speaks human the best of us. You are lucky to have met such a good orator. Now. What is it that you exactly plan to do?” her voice was deep and textured, as she jutted out her jaw.

You paused for a moment and held up a hand. You rummaged through your bag and pulled out some twine and popsicle sticks.

Lyith bit his lip like he was trying not to smile. Rena laughed openly. “You wish to do an art project?”

“No. If we are going to do this right, we need to be careful. I want to do experiments. First, we section three groups of flowers far away from each other so as not to contaminate eachotger. We use the twine and sticks to section those area off. Then, we do one group for the quick-grow powder, one group for the fertility spell, and one group of both. We will then keep track of them, and you guys will see which one keeps the most magic. You guys can tell magic quality by taste right?”

Rena nodded back at you, her expression a bit surprised. You continue.

“Ideally, we would have four different glens of these same flowers to compare. I'm not sure if the magic will be affected by rainwater. But I feel like it's a solid idea. Whichever works better for nectar quality, is what I'll use in case of emergency. If the fertility spell works properly, I can then help you guys grow your fields. But we wanna make sure that my magic is compatible with the flowers and your guyses nectar. I don't wanna accidentally poison you guys or something.” You scratch the back of your head awkwardly.

Lyith smiled over at Rena, who was nodding as she seemed to be thinking.

“Tell you what, ill give you two glens. One for your powder, one for the fertility spell. At one end of the both the glens you can do both. Sound good?”

You smiled. “Fantastic.”

From their, the three of you got to work sectioning off the ends of the glade. Rena herself flew off and sectioned the other glade herself, while you tested the soil. After the third time of getting the same reading, you calculated your powder amount. It was very important to get the amounts right. If you got it wrong, they would get one huge flower, and a comatose witch all at once. 

You did your spell, and it seemed to work, a more potent smell sweeping through the clearing. You continued your work, taking your time to channel your power as not to stress yourself out and mess with results. You were flown to the other glen, and did your thing. 

When you were finished, one clearings wildflowers had grown their reach twice as far, and the other flowers had grown to be the size of a human head. But it was the combination spell that really seemed to excite Rena. The flower's hue had changed from mostly orange, to mostly purple, and the scent had shifted to something headier.

“These more closely resemble the flowers of old! And they smell perfectly nutritious!”

Lyith chirped in. “The real test is to see how they will age. We don't know how long the magic will last. If the soil will breed more.”

You smile. “Thats what the experiments for. We wait, and each week you tell me if the magic quality has gone down.” 

Admiring the flowers, Rena grabbed one and flew towards you. She put the flower in your hands, then motioned to you as if it was a teacup. “Drink.”

Experimentally you tipped the flower to your mouth. A hint of nectar trickled in. It was sweet, but unlike your normal honeysuckle, their seemed to be a kick to it. Your gaze went back to Rena. She gave you a knowing smile. “Thats what your magic tastes like. It will make such good honey. Thank you.”

With that she leapt forward and gave you a huge hug. She smelled citrusy too, but in a different way, almost tropical. Her hair tickled your neck and ears, as she purred in contentment. She stayed there for a minute longer, seemingly giving you a warm nuzzle before pulling away. It wasn't until she did so that you were able to register how tired and sore your body was. You were shivering. The cold was getting to you now.

Lyith noticed immediately and drew himself close to you. “Is it too cold? I knew we should have waited a day. You've overdone it.” He then threw his arms around you, and started rubbing your arms, your back. He was using the friction and closeness to bring you warmth. It was innocent, but your cheeks warmed just a little too quickly. 

Rena watched and grabbed onto your free arm. “You'll get manasick at this rate. I've got a shelter nearby. Its no hive, but the heat will do you some good.” It seemed that Rena had decided she liked you, because she kissed your cheek twice before motioning the three of you onward.

Lyiath took you up in his arms again, the pressure of his touch much more intense. 

Its just to maintain heat. You tried to convince yourself. 

You had spent a lot more time spellcasting then you thought, as you noticed the sun was starting to set behind the trees. You tried to get Lyiths attention, perhaps you should be heading home instead, but it was very hard to do as you guys were hurtling through the air at 20mph. 

You passed through a few more fields of flowers then made it to a small structure. It was an off-white, sort of oblong shed. It truly looked like some human sized animal cocoon. There was a ridge, which Rena pulled away using her glowing light magic. 

When you all went inside, you were glad to find the structure warm. Light radiated from the ceiling, as if their was a glowing cloud above. In the middle of the room was a yellow orb that radiated heat. There wasn't much else in the room except for… a beanbag chair? 

Rena saw you staring and gushed, “I saw it in a shop window on one of our grocery trips! You humans make the silliest things sometimes!! Look!!” She maneuvered you over and onto it with relative ease. The cushion was heaven to your aching limbs. That, coupled with the radiating heat from the orb, started to make you relax. Sleepy even.

Lyith and Rena took their seats on the floor next to you, seeming comfortable. The room was full of light that made their black eyes shine. Lyith, looked at you with concern, and started fussing over you, pulling your sleeves over your wrists and inching you closer to the orb. 

“You haven't eaten since lunch! Its already dusk.” he tutted, pulling your hair over onto one shoulder. He always had this habit of touching you whenever he could. It must be a Bee-man trait.

You looked over at Rena, who had decided to pass the time by examining your fingers; Then lacing them with hers. Her antennas were twitching about in an adorable way, meaning she must have been pleased. You let her touch you, happy for the companionship. If a human had touched you as much as Rena and Lyith did, you would be beyond flustered, but for some reason, the two of them made you feel safe. Comfortable. 

“I might have an old granola bar in my bag.” You volunteered groggily. Lyith took the bag from your lap and started going through it carefully. You spent that time marveling over just how cute he was. His fluff, more pronounced around the neck and chest, seemed even more fluffy after all the high speed flying. A part of you just wanted to go over and hug him like a big teddy bear. Affection filled your heart.

“No, I don't see anything.” He frowned, rearranging everything back into your bag.

Rena clasped your hand harder, you looked over and saw her smile at you.

“Oh thats fine, I still have some nectar I collected from earlier. Do you want some?” She batted her eyelashes.

Lyith quirked an eyebrow, before staring “ Rena-”

Without waiting for an answer, Rena moved forward and brought her lips to yours, locking in a tight kiss. Too shocked to move, you felt her tongue on yours, then a sudden rush of sweetness. It kept coming, filling your mouth until you were forced to swallow it down. You sputtered, whole body now hot.

“I-wah?” 

Lyith looked like he was trying to contain his laughter. “Rena doesn't spend much time with humans, please forgive her. But just know that sharing nectar this way is very normal for us.” Despite this, a glint of mischief started to twinkle in his eyes, a smirk on his lips.

“ Oooh um really?” You sputter.

He nodded. “You didn't get a lot to drink though. I took some nectar from your garden before I picked you up. Would you like to try it? The magic will refortify you.”

He bent over until he was eye level with you. His eyes went to your lips, then back up to your gaze. You swallowed quickly, opening your mouth to say… something? But Lyith took this as an invitation, pushing his lips to yours. His mouth tasted sweet even before the nectar came. And this somehow was better. Just like the nectar from the flower earlier, there was a small tartness, a bite.

Lyith held you close to himself, the pressure of his body pleasant. A warmth started to curl in your stomach as he pulled you even closer, tipping you back into Rena, who embraced you from behind as you drank. You somehow managed to swallow as he pushed your lips together even tighter, his tongue teasing yours as he fed you. 

You were not sure how long this went on. But you knew you were full, and you were dizzy when he finally pulled away, his eyes glassy. His gaze was heated as he stared you down. It was as if he might change his mind and eat you up himself. You gasped for breath, eyes fixed on him. The room was filled with purring noises from both of them. You could feel the vibrations through both of their chests. You swallowed thickly.

After what felt like an eternity, Lyith straightened himself up and his expression changed to one of laughter. He giggled then bumped his forehead against yours affectionately. Rena gave a little giggle herself then a hum behind you.

“If you're feeling better now, can we fly you home?” Lyith offered. You nodded dumbly, still shaking off the heavy atmosphere which had now turned light. You mumbled your goodbye to Rena, and explained you'd be back in a week to check on the progress of the flowers. She beamed and gave you another hug. Whatever reservations she had had about you in the beginning seemed to be gone now. You gave her one last wave before letting Lyith scoop you up again for the third time today. 

The ride home went by in a flash. The moon shone light onto your porch as he dropped you off. 

“I'll be back tomorrow for your garden.” He breathed, his face the same happy calm it usually was. His antennas twitched as you nodded at him. He leaned foreward and kissed your cheek.

“Get some rest. You did good today.” He didn't wait for an answer before he flew off into the night. 

You knew he had probably been referring to all the magic you had been working today, but a part of you hoped that maybe he had been referring to something else. You slapped your cheeks. 

“Hes a Bee-man.” You tried to remind yourself. You repeated it a few more times that night, as if it would help with your stupid warming cheeks, and pooling gut.

***

Hi everybody! This part was a bit longer than the others but I hope you enjoy! So it turns out that bees do kiss! They share food and information this way through a process called trophallaxis. Hope that doesn't ruin the mood for you. Anywho, thanks for reading!

[aboringredmop]

k still don't know how im gonna post the videos (YouTube? unlisted?someone please help) but I can't sleep so I thought it'd write down whatever I remember happening!

(edit: here's the full recording! )

Becky and Joe walked on stage wearing sunglasses and red leather jackets and threw 3 of the trio plushies into the crowd. didn't get one unfortunately but it's really cool some people got free plushies :)

they made this robot child called the Inspiration Child, who's clearly meant to be a nod to ai (can learn from our show and generate it's own content!)

they explained how they met (and had some dodgy animated retelling), and how they started with small projects like commercials and music videos, until they came up with designs of the trio (and a mysterious fourth fella)

they made the designs first, then made the set, then the song and finally wrote the script for creativity. red guy was just a red mop head with legs at first ("alien squid thing") but Joe put the red guy head on for shits and giggles once and Becky thought it was hilarious so they kept it in the show

they were really not expecting it to blow up, and when Sundance called because they wanted to show creativity Becky thought it was a scam caller lol

they talked about the kickstarter and the credit card fraud kid. the mailed him saying "hey maybe dont do that" but the kid didnt know how to undo it cuz he just found a website full of credit card information and went ham, so Becky and Joe had to contact kickstarter because people were pulling out of the funding because they thought the project was overfunded (kickstarter was very difficult to contact)

they also made (lighthearted) fun of nsfw fluffybird art ((no padlock 😔) "using OUR characters to act out their SICK FANTASIES" - Becky) and theorists, especially because most if not all of the webseries is just them fucking around.

Inspiration Child also says something along the lines of "wow what a cool show with a great message of how corrupt the media is. I hate the media!"

Becky and Joe had these rules to make the show as vague as possible (no pop culture references, no names, no swearing and way too much detail put into small things)(the duck guy drag queen absolutely obliterates the no swearing rule lol)

they talk about the pilot, how they focused too much on the story because they felt like they had to due to it being on the big screen now, and how it ended up ruining the atmosphere and such of the pilot. they did show the entire thing sped up but my phone sucks ass so I could not get it to focus correctly. I'll see what I can salvage so you people can dissect frames of your blorbo you're Legally Not Allowed To See (which is also the official reason we don't get the pilot)

also pilot concept art showed that Mean Steve is in fact just called Key

they showed a whole post-it wall full of ideas for the tv show. don't know how much I got on footage, but what stood out most to me were 2 episodes called Money and Christmas. Joe mentioned "clock in a wheelchair" specifically

also really fun fact. Becky made the Lesley suit during covid, and pretty much threatened Baker into writing a human character into the show to wear it. concept art also shows Lesley with a mask made out of the same fabric, don't know if this was part of the original suit tho

they showed Warrens old models (?). he was gonna be a wayy more ugly looking silicone pug-worm thing y'all got lucky with the bald fuck

lily and todney were directly based off of some cancelled show about two porcelain doll children with panda parents. do not for the life of me remember what it was called but Becky and Joe were very enthousiastic about it (UPDATE: Candy and Andy!)

international release of the show soon!

Inspiration Child talks about what he's learned and sings a little song, then generates his own dhmis inspired content of a cult meeting in a forest at night. the dhmis Discord server called this "potential new content" but I doubt it

3 cultists walk on stage, face the screen backs to the crowd, drop their cloaks and boom! drag queens!!!

they were not mentioned on the site or during earlier parts of the show at all so they were a complete surprise. I asked Becky about it later during the night and she said she really wanted them there, so she asked and they were excited to! hope this means more official content with them soon I love them

they dance to There's Three Of Us, then Duck lipsings the shredder song which turns into a techno remix while Red and Yellow dance during the background

then Duck and Yellow make out while Red tries to undress to the instrumentals of the Fucked Up Part of Creativity but can't get out of his suit on time before the song ends

the drag queens, Becky and Joe and the Inspiration Child walk around during the meet and greet later and I got signatures from all of them! except inspiration child he didn't have thumbs

the drag queens were so fucking funny. Duck adopted inspiration child and loudly yelled at everyone to "GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING CHILD" (their duck voice is sooo good). yellow stood in a corner staring at a wall for like 10 minutes and red was constantly awkwardly hovering just outside the frames of pictures (and also could not see shit lmao)

Becky liked my shirt! (the one with the melting trio heads) said she handdrew it

I'll post the signatures and some more stuff tomorrow because it is. 5 am

edit Heres the signatures! yellow guys is Italian I think? and means hi I love you :)

(the liyskaen is duck trying to spell my name. they got pretty close)

[randomfoggytiger]

I don't want to shame or be age-ist, but why did they bring in Mimi Rogers as Diana? She looks so much older than both Scully and Mulder. Was she hot and in the market in the 90s? I can see that her assertiveness and self-assuredness could be attractive, but she just didn't seem to "fit in". It's almost as if Mulder went for her because of mommy issues and looking for an older woman like Scully did with Daniel and her daddy issues.

I don't know anything about the actress. My issue is just with the casting and that she fit more in line with being an older character that came across, to me, more like a wicked step mother than a potential mate.

I don't think the question is ageist. :DDD It's a reality that she does look older than Mulder-- but that really works for canon.

Actually factually, they hired Mimi Rogers because DD acted with her before (The Rapture); and he likes to bring his friends forward into new projects. But her casting also enabled David and Mimi to take their characters' interactions in a slightly different direction than the script dictated.

I get you completely, Anon-- and I agree. That angle worked for me, however: it underlined Mulder's personal growth over the past five years (and showed how glaringly unimportant Diana had become.)

Diana Fowley: the Definition of Manipulative Comfort

(Credit to: @iddoitforfreebaabe)

In the script, CC wrote Diana as a knock-out who subtly wielded her sexual prowess to draw Mulder's attention away from "the truth" (and to make Scully jealous, ahem ahem.) There was a sneering, preening quality to her that isn't present with Mimi Rogers. And I like that change; because five years and a thriving partnership have changed Mulder as a person-- not completely, but enough. Sneering, preening superficiality would repel, not attract, the person he's become.

Moreover, Mulder is a man so haunted by his past that he sees his sister in every little girl-- or, to the point, he sees the love and security he lost in childhood in every feminine, devoted, almost nurturing brunette. (He's drawn to women who promise love, companionship, and ease up front, only to be duped by their intentions and strung along with breadcrumbs of affection later.) I don't think he's looking for other sisters or other mothers in his selection process; just that their standard of beauty has been normalized since childhood. Importantly, we see his own distinct sexual preferences separate from his traumas: Mulder is attracted to intelligent, outspoken women, be it Pheobe Green or Diana Fowley or Dana Scully (or Bambi Berenbaum, etc.) This trait doesn't define his on-screen interactions with Tena Mulder-- a very passive, emotional woman when around him-- nor distinguish Samantha in his memories. They weren't idiots, certainly; but that's not how he selectively remembers them.

Back to Diana.

THE NATURE OF DIANA AND MULDER'S PAST RELATIONSHIP

Diana Fowley is the perfect archetype of a person who latches onto potential-- for intelligence and companionship-- and stays until she decides to leave (cutting loose ends cleanly, and purposefully parting friends.) Relationships are for advantage, positive or negative.

We know this because of her reappearance: in The End, Diana expects to waltz back in and turn Mulder's affections back to herself with the snap of her fingers; in The Beginning, she chastises Mulder for doubting her dedication and loyalty to the files (read: him); and in One Son, she foists a kiss on Mulder when he is at his lowest point.

She's not a mother figure but a dangerous second thing: a prey animal who locates the wounded boy in the man and weaponizes that to her advantage-- hence, her full name (Diana meaning 'goddess of the hunt'; Fowley, a spin on the word fowler or snare.) (It's not until The Blessing Way that Mulder began to question his own mother's involvement in the conspiracy, posts here and here; which provides ample proof of the lengths his ex would have been able to twist him about without his suspicion.) Diana knows how to mask her control through silky "Fox, I know better; and you know I know better" language that skirts his animosity and detection. While Phoebe is cruel and callous and careless-- getting caught-out both times she and Mulder engaged in a relationship of sorts-- Diana is circumspect and calculating and careful. Diana exploits his weak spot-- self-punishment and a desperate need for love-- by disguising her attentions behind loving, near-maternal guidance and protection... something she would have known he lacked after Mulder unveiled his backstory. While Phoebe is reliant on relationships and adoration and praise to feel superior-- unable to face or accept rejection-- Diana doesn't rely on anyone or anything except herself (hence why CSM came to depend on her, too.)

DIANA, THE (PURPOSEFULLY) NOT-SO RAVISHING

All that logic and canonical consistency aside, the beauty in Mimi Rogers's casting is that she isn't a ravishing beauty to Mulder.

Mulder isn't head-over-heels for her like he was Phoebe Green or Bambi Berenbaum or (later) Scully. In the magazines and tapes that aren't his, in his dreams, in his Kill Switch illusion, Mulder fantasizes about larger-than-life sexuality: the Jersey Devil, Phoebe, Bambi, the blonde bimbo nurses, Jade Afterglow, Scully in sci-fi gear, etc. The exaggeration in their presentation captures his imagination and attention. (We see hints of Diana as a wanton, sexually deviant temptress here and there: namely in Mulder's vision of her in Amor Fati-- post here-- where he is not surprised to see her in aggressive, sexy lingerie-- but is surprised to hear she suddenly wants to settle down and have children, post here. And, again, "settling down" is framed as "It's time to grow up, Fox"-- another maternally slanted manipulation.) In casting Mimi, their dynamic changed from Phoebe-Green-enraptured to old-wound-manipulation.

Mulder himself wasn't gutted over their breakup-- telling Diana, without a shadow in his eyes pointing to past hurts or wounds or pain he'd overcome, "I've done okay without you." It was Diana who walked and Diana who returned; but it's Mulder who didn't ask her to stay either time. She was his partner: not in the "wildly understood definition of that term", but a literal partner who discovered the X-Files alongside him, who spent five years of her life with him, and who left-- without regrets, from either side-- for greener pastures. It had been a comfortable, not passionate, relationship. Afterwards, Mulder was content to burrow down in the basement, alone; and resented any intruder into his sanctum after she left.

And when Diana returns, he's stiff, tense; and takes a while to warm up to her presence. Yes, because of his past with her, yes because he hadn't informed Scully of said past; but mostly because he knows Diana is there for a reason. And, profiler that he is, Mulder suspects he's the reason. And he's right.

DIANA FOWLEY V. DANIEL WATERSTON

How does Mulder's draw to Diana differ from Scully's draw to Daniel?

Well, firstly, we have to discuss the similarities. Both Diana and Daniel are older partners, and both put down the instincts of their lovers (or would-be lovers, in Scully's case) to assert their own interests and end goals. ...The similarities largely end there.

The differences, however, point to the nuance of their situations.

Mulder isn't drawn to Diana because she was "his mother"-- he was attracted to her because his inner porch bug is drawn to the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel; and always coaxes him into the dangerous dark and straight towards the beam of a bug zapper. In this case, he got caught in the window screen, peering into the glow of a house but unable to advance towards or retreat from it. Diana and he had good times, comfortable times that they could remember fondly later; but their reminiscing consists of her helping on the files, not the years of their relationship beforehand. In essence, they have "the work"-- in whatever current form that was-- between them and nothing more (in contrast to his bond with Scully, which transcends Mulder's search for "the truth.")

Scully is drawn to Daniel because he is "other fathers"-- a man who not only understands her expertise and passion but rewards it with devotion and pride. While Diana left Mulder and was, apparently, perfectly content to be single as she carried out the Syndicate's aims (or because she left her options open to exploit CSM's interest), Daniel mourned and pined after his loss, letting his cracked marriage dissolve completely and abandoning his daughter to-- hopefully, maybe-- run into Scully someday. Diana and Mulder coasted five years-- another sign their relationship didn't healthily benefit either person-- before they decidedly separated. Daniel and Scully had a stormy (near) love affair, and split after the tempestuous blowout.

(By the way, Mulder and Scully, carry out those patterns with their ensuing relationships: Scully moving fast and strong with Jack and Jerse before they separate; and Mulder coasting on from case-to-couch, phone to his ear when he gets lonely at nights. Their partnership ultimately breaks each other's pattern, posts here, here, and here.)

Diana does fall in love with Mulder, though: by One Son, we see she truly has lingering feelings for her ex-- that take a backseat to her Consortium calling (and lack of characterization)-- and by Amor Fati, her affection has grown enough to manifest guilt, shame, and change-- that results in her death. However: the series portrays this as new emotional growth, not a symptom of their past relationship. Mulder doesn't expect that depth of feeling from her in The End nor The Beginning; nor even Two Fathers and One Son (hence his consternation with Scully's "jealous" suspicions, post here.) Again, "I've done okay without you" speaks volumes-- especially with the twinkle Mulder sports to show Diana that, for the first time in his life, he's found a spark: that his current "relationship" isn't comfortable or stagnant or in the past. (Which is why she reads between the lines and plans to break apart the partnership as deftly as possible.)

CONCLUSION

Hopefully these thoughts helped in some way or form. :DDDDD But what do you think, Anon?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: Here's the interview mentioned in the tags.

[kit-williams]

A Drabble

tw: oral; idiots in love;

-Timeline: Before the story proper-

Perturabo was use to Penelope being excitable... she was in her early twenties after all verses him being well over a hundred years old by the time they married. It amused him greatly how differently she acted in the public eye verses with him privately. It made him feel like he had something all his own and it was the truest version of his wife. But he watched her slide into the room looking at him bewildered, "Why didn't you tell me you were hot?!" She says in that whining tone of hers.

Perturabo gives Penelope a deep frown counting slowly in his head. She has a habit of saying stupid things not realizing at first what she says. With her also being from the mountains she sometimes messes up the phrasing... that and her being a commoner once she tends to speak far more casually with him in private... and well of course he loves her. Love was something Pertruabo did not give out his love easily as Calliphone was the only other person he would have said that he loved before he realized he loved Penelope in a different way.

"Let me rephrase!" Her eyes sparkle realizing her slip up, "Why am I only now finding out you had a beard!" She whines softly.

"I see you visited Calliphone." Pertruabo points out knowing full well that the only paintings of him left of his time before meeting Father were with his sister.

"Of course I did. And I only now just saw how amazing you look with a beard! I feel robbed!" Penelope says with her dramatics as he could hear her bare feet upon the stone as she walked over to his desk.

"Unlike Russ I did not enjoy the feeling of my hair getting tangled and knotted. So I shaved my whole body." Perturabo says returning focus to a building design.

"Do you think you'll ever grow it out again?" He feels her cheek against his arm.

"Why?"

"It looked good on you."

"Do I not look good now?" He looked over at her with a blank look on his face. He wasn't afraid of what she would say...

"I fell in love with you now. Clean shaven, tubes, and all. I mean I doubt I looked good when you first met me."

"You looked good."

"Bo I had three teeth missing, crooked toes from them being broken and not healing right, awful hair, and a myriad of other things that would leave many poets desiring something."

That got Perturabo to frown, "That doesn't matter." He bristles not liking how she talks about herself sometimes. He chose her so why does-

"Exactly dear." Penelope says softly with that pleasing smile of hers that causes her eyes to close slightly, "You loved me at my worst looking. No I'm not saying you have bad taste in women I'm saying that if looks were something you were really picky on then I wouldn't have a chance."

"They never complemented my work earnestly." Perturabo says softly.

"Their loss." She says before climbing up to sit on his thigh wrapping her arms around his neck and presses her cheek to his as she smiles just showering him in affection.

He doesn't like showing affection in public a weakness that could be exploited... but she's a mortal and needs it... and he wont repeat nearly letting her walk away from his life by withholding it from her. He sighs softly pulling her into a hug enjoying the comfortable silence before speaking up, "After the Crusade." She looks at him before he continues, "I'll regrow my beard after the Crusade. My head hair..." He feels a modicum of self consciousness at the thought.

"I can live with just a beard... and maybe some chest hair too?"

"You're insatiable." He kisses her cheek seeing the gears in her mind thinking, "You're thinking of something."

"Beard Burn." Penelope says with a sigh.

"You really are insatiable." He laughs softly to which she scoffs.

"Would you rather I be like Lady Dorn? Mindful and demur and stone faced too? Or perhaps I shall have a frown upon my face as well." She says before she pouts dramatically at him.

"You're pouting."

"Well I'm not very good at frowning I suppose." Penelope says before kissing him.

--------------

She doesn't know how this man got into her room... and why he was naked. But she had to admit he was insane enough to try and seduce her though he looked... familiar?

"Speechless?" That familiar voice rumbles out.

Her eyes widen, "Bo?"

"In the flesh," He lies as what this puppet really was is metal, "You really do not like it when I'm closer to your height."

She sighs putting a hand to her cheek, "Like I've said... a decade of being use to you towering over me does not go away just like that. But... I suppose... it's been awhile for you."

"Partially I do not trust myself to not hurt you," He partially lies to his beloved spouse looking away not wanting to think too hard about everything as he came here for a mental reprieve... not to be eaten by guilt...

He looks at her feeling her weight on the bed as she gives him a kiss for his troubles before pulling away and looking over him, "By the Ancients Perturabo you're so hairy!" She says before putting her face into his chest and making a pleased noise.

"Oh yes probably not as hairy as some of my sons from the mountains are," He says with his eyes closed as he can't help but preen under her pleased gaze, "But I hope its enoUGH!" He nearly jumps as he feels her mouth around him as he looks to her sparkling eyes as she grins with her mouth full giving a giggle. He swallows and burns the sight into his very essence, "Well you look quite pleased."

"Oh yesh bery peeesed," Penelope says with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full Nelly." Perturabo says causing her to laugh and she lets him slip free from her mouth. As she crawls up to meet him in an embrace and to enjoy the night.

-Timeline: Perturabo got to Penelope first-

Guilliman didn't know what was spurring his traitorous brother on. Perturabo was moving aggressively carving out a large territory for himself. The spies that were able to give any information was sparse and usually wildly outdated by the time it reached him but something was spurring him on. The radical inquisitor was able to get a recording... "Apparently the rapid border expansion of the Iron lord's territory is because of something he acquired. We're uncertain if it's from his recent fights with the other traitor primarchs but the Iron Warriors have been consolidating and changing their focus."

Guilliman was very familiar with how Perturabo was moving... it was his methodical expansion from the Great Crusade... he was bringing planets into compliance. And given the numbers the Inquisiton estimate... Perturabo was a threat. His mind thinks back for a moment... perhaps the thing that changed was Penelope? But that was well over fifty years now when he first got that distress call from the Iron Amarantos and he assumes that the perils on that half of the Cixitrix Maledictum got to her before she could get to one of the crossing points.

"We don't have any information on this sudden Demogauge. All we know is that she just appeared around the same time of the expansion. The Iron Lady as she's been called." Guilliman refrains from rolling his eyes... of course just like Ferrus, Perturabo was associated with Iron.

The pict capture plays as the agents get into their positions. "This one is also important... but its clearly a young Astartes." The Inquisitor says as notes pop up as the image of a... familiar man walks on screen. He looked so much like Perturabo... then again what one of his sons didn't but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this wasn't a normal son of Perturabo.

"And here comes the Iron Lady." The Inquisitor says but the Astartes uses a different title.

"Play it back now." Guilliman orders as he listens to the title again... "That's not Iron Lady..." He has a sinking feeling he knows who is about to walk on screen.

"What does it translate to then my Lord?"

"Iron Mother."

And upon the screen with a newfound grace she glided into view draped in the colors of the fourth legion straight from the days of the great crusade was Penelope. Though Roboute wonders if it really is her give how she was closer to the size of Alpharius or a Primaris marine and Roboute watched her sweet talk a planet into compliance... because she was the gentle hand to the Iron Lord... she was the gentle hearth where Perturabo was a roaring forge... Roboute didn't have many chances to meet his brother's wife. But he remembers one of the few times she was around and Perturabo was bristling. Perhaps it is the hindsight now to realize that her death is what damned the fourth legion... but he remembers the way they simply looked at each other. Something Roboute was jealous of, at the time, with how tenderly she held his face... how lovingly she looked into his eyes...

"It can't be her..." He whispers... this must have been some poor mortal or some abomination Perturabo had made to replace his wife... if he never got over her.

"Who is she..." An Inquisitor asks.

"Back in the Great Crusade era... before the Heresy... Perturabo had a wife," His eyes focus on one of the Astartes standing next to her before pointing, "and a son."

The Ram, the bulwark of Ossento system, Warsmith of the 101st Grand Company... and more titles but Guilliman couldn't help but see how much he looked like his father... the way he seemed to look into the camera and just smile.

The alarms blare as the sigil of the Iron Warriors appears on the screen. A virus the tech adepts and priests scream as a video forces itself to play.

"Hello Guilliman." Penelope says, "You probably have a dozen questions seeing me again... and like this." She says softly, "I would love to answer them but straying too far from your brother would... well he wouldn't like that but I'm willing to meet you still perhaps not at Macragge but I think you will be please with what I have to say. Take care Lord of Macragge." And with the video ends the virus dies

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: Long Talks

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

Note: this has been in my draft for at least 2 weeks, hit a slump and then a hyperfixation couldn't write lol. so this is alot shorter and the drawings wont make as much sense without part like?? 6.5???... but I just wanted to post it cuz I felt bad

Reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I wanna hear y'all's thoughts >:3c

Red and Blue: a deep conversation filled with compassion and vulnerability:

Meanwhile Vio and Green:

(sorry I haven't updated this in a while, real life calls :')

The following days were hell. Red knew how much fights shredded his heart into a bajillion tiny pieces, but really the forced normalcy was so much worse!

The two had gotten an even bigger longer (and honestly ranty) lecture from Green the next day. Red didn't think it really helped much. Like sure they were cowed into NOT biting each other or whatever, but c'mon!

It felt like everyone was mad at everyone else! And even though technically no one was really mad at him, they were all mad at each other which- considering they were all sorta kinda not really the same person? It still felt that way!

Green had gotten really bossy and super serious, and Blue and Vio were just avoiding each other like the plague! Whenever they did come into "an unfortunate proximity" as Vio put it, there wasn't anything but a ton of silent hate! Red really just wanted to curl up into a little hole and die. Well not really! But like, emotionally! Just a bit!

Green kept pushing them to talk about the details, but neither one would talk. Red decided to try asking them one on one, you know, use his charm a bit and soften the edges- But even when he cried it didn't work! Him crying always worked! Especially when he said just the right words in just the right way to softly push them into making a realization.

Red wouldn't really call himself a manipulator in that sense, because hey! He was using his powers for good, right? At least most of the time, anyways. It was a useful way to get out of trouble and get things he wanted...

By why couldn't it work now when he needed it most!!

Vio just treated him like how a parent would to their kid when the kid just, well, asked about death or some hard grownup topic. Like Red just simply wouldn't understand and not to worry about it- But he was worrying! He knew Vio just didn't want him to be sad but still...

Then Blue- Well, Blue was just sad. And a little p*ssed. But it was clear he was just mostly sad. At least when he talked to Red anyways. At first he had been all huffy and insisted that it was all so stupid, so why even bring it up anyways? Because it was "over already!" Which, no that was super stupid of Blue to think, because obviously all their relationships were like super mega sad???

When Red expressed that sentiment though, it seemed to change something in Blue. Blue just closed up and got all quiet. He hated when Blue did that. But it also meant his plan was working. Blue may be a little, uhm, explosive to people and things when he got upset- But really if he was like actually really seriously upset? Then he got all quiet and intense all by himself. But Red knew how to pry all those layers off, even if it was just melting his way though each one of Blue's icy walls, one at a time.

Not even a day later of the guilt obviously devouring Blue inside out, and clearly losing against his ego. (Red knew that's what happened, he probably didn't want to be the "first one to show weakness" and just talk about how his feelings were hurt and acted like he was just all angry and didn't care, but Blue was a big softie and no amount of pouting was gonna change that in Red's eyes.)

They'd been walking to the training yards extremely early in the morning, the sun had barely peeked over the horizon really. In Red's opinion, going all the way to the castle to train in the big professional courtyard before the birds even woke up was probably some sort of crime against humanity. And him. But Red was so close to getting Blue to spill! SO he had to stick with Blue the whole time to make sure his plan would work. He just had to be consistent! Even if... it was at like... Red blearily squinted against the horizon. Five AM? Uegh.

Green was right about those too being similar. But it wasn't just cuz they were so stubborn. More like they were both weirdos that had a vendetta against sleep. Seriously, would it kill Blue to sleep in for five more minutes...

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya: Diluc gets rid of things he doesn’t need anymore…with how much he resents me, I must be no different-

Diluc:

Never banned Kaeya from the tavern, even with their History and how much Kaeya pesters him there nor makes any moves to

Kept every single letter Kaeya wrote to him while in Snezhnaya, which was also the vast majority correspondence penned by one person he kept in the Winery's stash (every Letter in Beautiful Handwriting/Hidden Strife Event)

Kept the fucken vase Kaeya used on a whim to give his Vision back in, even if it did NOT match the decor of the Winery (Genshin Manga/Venti SQ/Kaeya Hangout)

Was extremely patient with Kaeya accusing him of casting aside Crepus' legacy in response to him telling Kaeya to drink responsibly (Venti SQ)

In that same dialogue, was more in disbelief/offended that Kaeya seemed to believe he would ever think of callously throwing him out than by Kae's comment abt Crepus of all things (Venti SQ)

Stayed with Kaeya on the island the entire time, no matter how much they bickered, even though he could have gone after one of the others or even taken off on his own like they did instead (Midsummer Island Adventure)

Was genuinely surprised/touched when Kae revealed he thought fondly of their childhood days gathering seashells (Echoing Tales)

Let himself get arrested for Kaeya’s harebrained scheme to save a little girl Luc didn't even know about previously, and RIGHT after Kaeya outright accused HIM of being the murderer too (Genshin Manga)

Gave Kaeya a free drink without being asked when he came to visit him to deliver the aforementioned vase after the scheme was complete (Genshin Manga)

Never refuted Kaeya's claim that Dawn Winery was his home too, nor Kae's claims that people had every right to visit 'home' during festival seasons (Weinlesefest)

Let Kaeya score free booze for the Knights to distribute for the Weinlesefest to help better their image, that Lisa specifically sent Kaeya to ask of Diluc bc she KNEW Diluc wouldn’t say no to him (Weinlesefest)

Expressed he would have Elzer speak with Hertha bc Kaeya mentioned the Knights' financial situation as an afterthought, despite how much Diluc dislikes the Knights (Weinlesefest)

Got moody bc Kaeya didn’t want to stay for dinner and IMMEDIATELY jumped at the chance to make Kaeya stay when Addie intervened to insist (Weinlesefest)

Lets and NEVER stops the servants from referring to Kaeya as ‘master’ too (They do so freely in front of him in Weinlesefest & Kaeya Hangout in particular)

Was perfectly okay with Kaeya staying at the Winery when he left, even after their dispute (Letter with Clear Handwriting/Hidden Strife)

Always remembers every single one of Kaeya’s silly excuses to try and get free wine out of him, and teases him for forgetting which he’s already used & precisely how long ago he did (Kaeya Hangout)

Is said, by Elzer, to in fact be completely fine with Kaeya stealing drinks from the Winery, even if he outwardly complains abt it (Kaeya Hangout)

Solemnly asks about Kaeya when he thinks Kaeya already left, and unpromptedly talks him up to Traveler in regards to Kae's own ability to the Winery (Kaeya Hangout)

[cowardlycowboys]

man who needed therapy tells daughter that they need therapy and should just get over what happened as a child

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[musical-chick-13]

Thinking about that "If K*ylo R*n were a woman everything would be better and this character would have worked" post, but after some consideration...I genuinely would have still hated this character.

Like...Idk maybe there's something to be said for the still-subversive nature of characters like this being allowed to be horrible women, but I don't hate this character because he's horrible, or even because he exemplifies a bunch of things in fiction I'm tired of seeing, I hate him because he doesn't feel fully-formed as a character to me and I don't think the movies know what they're trying to accomplish with him from a narrative standpoint (which are, imo, the biggest Story Sins a writer can commit). All of which would still hold true if this character were a woman.

[jaywritesrps]

[aquaticfreakshow-sys]

Call me petty or whatever but, making fun of and shit talking my toxic ex with my current partners is literally so fun....

My current boyfriend of ten years was ALSO with them so it's really fun to completely trash talk our failed poly relationship lmao

Healing is being able to laugh at how ridiculous it all was instead of being afraid of them.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Food is Good for the Core

~

Jason met Danny months ago when he stopped by one of the diners,

Danny was on his lunch break about to eat his ecto infused food when he felt someone with a starving proto-core enter his dinner, his head snapped towards the entrance his gaze locking onto a rather tall man with the expression of someone who was hangry for lack of better words.

His core chirped a greeting, he felt the mans proto-core rumble a barely there response.

The man stumbled towards him his eyes flashing green

"Wha-who are you?"

Once he was close enough Danny grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down onto the seat next to him, pushing his food towards him.

"There you go Firecracker, you look like you really need it"

Jason was about to protest not sure what was even happening when the smell of the food hit him, next thing he knows he's swallowing the last bite.

He leaned back staring

Just staring

He had't felt this satiated and calm since, well since a very long time.

"My name is Jason not Firecracker , now what the hell was in that? Why did I react like that?"

"Well Firecracker, my name is Danny and please tell me that you know that you ..uh died?"

-Time Skip-

"-And so basically you need ecto to be healthy and happy, did you understand all that?"

"Where will I need to go to find that?"

"No worries big guy, I'll make you the food free of charge and in the future I'll start showing you how to properly make it. Also you need to be careful with the ecto food, normal humans tend to act weird even with just a little taste to our foods."

~

Danny & Jason eating together getting along

Dick: "My baby brother has a friend and didn't tell me!"

~

Danny & Jason cooking together: "Oh that's why they say food is the way to a man's heart"

~

Danny & Jason being smitten with one another & starting to unconsciously do ghost courting things.

Oracle watching from the cameras: "What the fuck?!"

~

Dick being nosy realizing that Jason's new boyfriend is putting something into the food Jason and he eat that goes into an extremely secure case.

Dick being suspicious and investigating, manages to steal a bite feels super loopy and weird for the next few days

Dick: "I've connected the dots!"

Jason: "You didn't connect shit."

Dick: "I've connected them!"

Dick thinks they're doing drugs

~

Dick slamming the door open: "Jason is doing drugs!"

Tim: "That doesn't sound like him are you sure?"

Dick on the ground wailing

Tim: "..."

~

Just an Idea

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings

Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!

Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.

~~~~~

Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.

Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.

Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.

However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.

And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.

Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.

As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.

But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.

But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.

Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.

It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.

Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.

He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.

~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.

~~~~~~~~

It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.

And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.

The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…

Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.

Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.

~~~~~~~

When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.

Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.

Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.

Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.

~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.

~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~

Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.

Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.

Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.

Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.

Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.

~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.

~~~Several Days Later~~~

Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.

~~~Several years later~~~

[sunnymoonxx]

❝programmed for pleasure❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: Your best friend Qimir always had your back, and that didn't change when the Jedi accused you of treachery. Without hesitation, Qimir helps you hide. After days of close quarters and constant danger, things get heated and secrets flow to the surface.

warnings: this is just filth, english is not my native language, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (who needs it with him right), fingering, hints of mind control, reader finds out qimir's identity during the act, choking, cockwarming, degradating, praising, 5k+ words, not proofread

a/n: in ep2 when osha was pretending to be mae and qimir's mask dropped- so did my panties and i wish we could see what would happen if the jedi didnt barge in

also i apologise if this is not my best work my brain's rotting

now playing, fill the void by the weekend and lily rose depp

The sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows across the bustling market square. The air shimmered with heat, and the scent of exotic spices mixed with the dust kicked up by the steady flow of people. The cacophony of merchants hawking their wares and customers bartering for goods filled the air, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere. That's when you jumped in, covered in a heavy cloak, weaving through the crowd, moving with desperate urgency that contrasted sharply with the slow pace of the marketgoers.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and sweat trickled down your temples, but you didn’t dare slow down. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the fear that suffocated you.

You glanced over your shoulder, scanning for signs of your pursuers. There, in the distance, the unmistakable silhouettes of Jedi Knights moved with an unerring determination, their robes flowing like liquid shadows. Panic surged within you, propelling you forward even faster.

You stumbled into a fruit vendor, nearly toppling the cart, and barely registering the vulgar complaint thrown at you, only focused on your desired destination.

Ahead, through the throng of people, you spotted the familiar sign of your friend’s shop. It was a small, unassuming place, nestled between two larger establishments, almost easy to miss if you didn't know what to look for. You aimed yourself toward it like a ship setting course for a distant star, your legs burning from the exertion.

Another quick glance back showed the Jedi gaining ground, their calm, composed faces a stark contrast to your own panic. You had to reach the shop; you had to get to safety. With a final burst of energy, you pushed through a group of curious onlookers, thrusting them to the ground, and practically threw yourself against the door of the shop.

It swung open with a jingle of bells as you tumbled inside, the cool air a welcome relief against the overheating streets. You slammed the door shut behind you, the noise causing your friend, Qimir, to look up from behind the counter, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, what are you—"

"Shush," you panted, leaning heavily against the door, trying to catch your breath, scanning any sign of the Jedi through the glass door. "I need to hide."

“What is going on?” Qimir appeared right behind you, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. He motioned for you to follow him. This wasn’t the first time you had begged Qimir to help you, and many times you had promised to pay him back, but you never did. You tried to calm yourself as you followed him to the back of the shop where the infamous hidden trapdoor was placed.

“I owe you,” you breathed out, looking up at Qimir before you kneeled down to get in, climbing your way into a narrow space, the darkness of the room slowly enveloping you.

“You always do,” he murmured to himself before he closed the door, leaving you alone in the pitch-black darkness. You’d been here many times, so it wasn’t difficult finding a certain switch, turning on the lights that partially blinded you. As you quickly got used to them, your other senses heightened, hearing Qimir making his way back to the front of the shop above your head.

You pressed yourself against the cool earth, willing your racing heart to calm. Above, you could hear the faint murmur of voices, the unmistakable timbre of the Jedi questioning. You held your breath, every muscle in your body tense, praying that your hiding place would remain undiscovered.

You calmed yourself, putting your hand on your chest where your heart would be, carefully listening to the conversation above you.

“Have you seen a cloaked figure running by this shop? We saw them run this way; do not bother us with lies,” came Yord’s unmistakable voice. You had never liked him, even as a youngling or a Padawan. He finished his trials sooner than you and felt the need to remind you every second. Today was the last day you decided to respect it.

“I think I saw someone pass by, but I didn’t see their face or where they were going,” you heard Qimir lie to the Jedi, protecting you again. You never grasped how he could lie to the Jedi and not get caught. You always suspected he was Force-sensitive and accidentally blocked everyone out of his mind, but that theory vanished quickly when he once face-planted on the ground after you woke him from his peaceful sleep. Maybe he was just a good liar.

Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, you heard the Jedi grow quiet, leaving the shop. You allowed yourself a tentative sigh of relief, knowing that you had narrowly escaped capture. For now, you were safe, as long as you stayed with Qimir.

It didn’t take long for Qimir to come back for you, opening the trapdoor to get you out. You climbed fast, jumping at him, almost crushing him with your suffocating hug.

“I’d like an elaboration on this one,” he declared into your ear, waiting for you to let go of the hug but returning it with slight pressure. “Weren’t you supposed to be in the Outer Rim? That’s where your Master sent you.” You let him go, running your fingers through his hair, making a big mess on his head. He let out an annoyed scuff, furrowing his eyebrows, but his smile betrayed him.

“Hmm,” you whispered, turning back to him to walk to the door and shut down the blinds. The Jedi might have been gone, but you weren’t sure. “I was already there. Mission accomplished.” You replied with excitement as you threw away your cloak on the counter, turning in a circle back to Qimir. His expression was to die for.

“Wait,” he picked up his hand as if to stop you from coming closer to him. You stopped your movements, a cheerful smile playing on your lips. “You killed Kelnacca, without a weapon, and managed to come back and do whatever you did for the Jedi to hunt you down?” He didn’t trust you at all, and it was painfully obvious. He circled around you to block your way, even if you had no intention of going outside and leaned against the counter.

“I killed Kelnacca without a weapon, came back here, and killed Torbin.” You smiled, hoping for Qimir to cheer up too, for he was the one always believing in you and your Master’s missions for you. “That’s why they chased me; they found out. But it’s done. I did it.” You couldn’t help but jump towards him, looking up at him as he stared you down.

“You killed them both without a weapon?” he repeated his question, scanning your figure up and down, like he was trying to figure out if you’re joking or serious. Your smile dropped, as you realized he was more of a puppet to your master than your friend. You liked Qimir, but there were times when you didn’t know what he was thinking or where he was going on random days.

You scuffed to yourself, annoyed but understanding in some way. You weren’t always the best apprentice, but you earned it. You earned your place as his pupil and hoped, one day, your master would show his face to you.

“Is this what you want?” you asked, irritated, throwing a tied bag on the counter, right next to Qimir’s hands. He was hesitant but opened the sack, revealing two Jedi lightsabers: Kelnacca’s and Torbin’s. “I could have brought their heads, but that would defeat the purpose.” You added, frustration obvious in your tone. You were so excited to tell Qimir, your friend, about the great news and were immediately let down by his reaction. You hoped he’d be happy for you, finally safe from your Master as you satisfied him with your work.

"Sorry, just shocked," he let out a small chuckle before closing the bag again and leaving it on the counter. "He'll be so pleased with you," he turned to you, a wide smile on his lips. The drastic changes in his mood always scared you, but now you were simply happy you could share the happy news with him.

“Of course I’m proud of you too,” Qimir added, coming towards you to pull you into another hug, this one warmer and more reassuring. You hesitatingly wrapped your arms around him, melting in his embrace. However small and skinny he looked behind his untidy clothes, whenever he hugged you, you almost disappeared between his arms.

“Now who’s gonna tell him?” you muttered into his shoulder before he let go of you, his hands leaving your back seconds later. You were so happy about your success that you never thought of informing your master. Even though you passed his test, you were still nervous about talking to him. His mask was scary enough for you, and his quiet mannerisms were even worse. You could never read what he was thinking, what he was planning next, or what he might be contemplating doing to you. If Qimir volunteered to inform him, you wouldn’t protest.

“Well, you should,” he stated to your bad luck. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” He smiled before going behind the counter to search for something on the lower shelf. You had to snort at his choice of words.

“Please,” you chuckled. “My Master? Thrilled?” You came behind Qimir, observing as his long fingers grasped a small glass of orange drink and set it on the table. “I don’t think he’s ever shown any emotions besides boredom and anger.”

“That’s because he’s wearing a mask,” Qimir pointed out, pouring the orange fluid into two separate small glasses. “Maybe he’s smiling behind it.” You admired Qimir’s delusion.

“I bet,” you started, waiting impatiently for Qimir to finish pouring the drinks, “he’s actually planning my demise behind that mask.”

Qimir handed you a glass, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Or he’s planning your next big test, which he’ll pretend doesn’t impress him but secretly makes him proud.”

You raised your glass to his, a smirk forming on your lips. “To surviving another day and confusing my Master,” you toasted.

Qimir clinked his glass against yours. “To more victories and shared secrets.”

As you took a sip, the cool, sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the looming threat of your master’s reaction, Qimir’s unwavering support made you feel like you could handle anything. With a deep breath, you set your glass down and looked at him, determination shining in your eyes.

“Alright,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ll tell him. But if he decides to execute me, I’m holding you responsible.”

Qimir laughed, a sound that felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. “Deal. But I have a feeling you’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

“Let’s hope,” you sighed, leaning against the counter on your elbows, letting Qimir’s eyes wash over you. “Also, he has to be hiding something.”

“What do you mean?” Qimir asked, a confused expression on his face as he put his already empty glass down.

“What if he’s deformed under the mask?” you let out, your face scrunching at the thought. “Or what if he’s just ugly?” You stared at nothing, not paying any attention to the words you were saying.

Qimir’s eyebrows twitched with amusement as he scanned you carefully. “You haven’t seen his face yet?” he asked, noticing how you played with your ring between your fingers as you stared down at the ground.

“You know I haven’t,” you replied with an annoyed sigh. “Look, I made peace with it, but I’m still curious about what he looks like. I want to know who’s teaching me all these things.” You complained, pushing yourself away from the counter, your eyes glancing at the black curtains over the window.

Qimir leaned back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. “I get it. It’s human nature to want to see the face behind the mask. But maybe it’s more about what he’s teaching you than what he looks like.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. “Leave it to you to find the deeper meaning. I just want to make sure I’m not taking orders from someone who might be scarier without the mask.”

Qimir chuckled, stepping closer. “You’ve faced Jedi Knights, completed impossible missions, and survived under his training. Whatever he looks like under that mask, you’ve proven you’re stronger than any fear or curiosity.”

His words settled over you like a comforting blanket, and you felt a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. “You always know what to say, don’t you?” you turned back to face him, a genuine smile on your lips. Lately, you had noticed the way he looked at you. How his eyes darkened when he thought you weren’t watching. How his arms twitched your way when you walked past him and his intense gaze during your conversations. Like now.

Qimir was your friend, supplier, and occasional therapist. You could always vent to him about your Master, and he listened carefully. Many times, you slept over in his shop, passing out on the floor, exhausted from your tests and missions. You couldn’t count how many times you bled out in front of him and woke up the next day with your wounds bound and healed. You knew Qimir had his own secrets that he wasn’t confident in sharing with you, but some things kept you awake at night, wondering.

Despite his poor hygiene and greasy hair that framed his face in an unflattering way, you found him magnetic and charismatic. Something about him pulled you closer, and you didn’t know what. Between the nightmares and horrors, you were a victim to in your dreams, Qimir showed up to comfort you many times. You were embarrassed every time you woke from them, but the images never left your mind. And whenever you saw him after, you deep down wished they would become true.

Two days have passed since then, yet his intense gaze still lingered in your mind. He let you use his shop as your personal sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the Jedi that didn’t stop searching for you. Each day, you watched them through the window. Three times they've marched past, and twice they've entered, repeating the same questions, their eyes scanning for any sign of you.

Qimir once suggested you could leave the planet, but you quickly dismissed the idea. The Jedi now controlled who could leave or enter the exosphere. You regretted not hiding Torbin’s body, leaving him there to rot. Anger had taken over. You wanted the Jedi to find him. You wanted to shove it in their faces.

The days began to stretch into what felt like weeks, with only the tension between you and Qimir keeping you alert, even though it made time drag. The first night when you jumped out of the shower and had to borrow his clothes, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flew to your legs that the towel didn’t fully cover. Or when you tied your hair into a braid, his gaze never wavered. You didn't mind being observed, but with Qimir, it was different. His gaze made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t decide if in a good or bad way. His touch made you shiver, his presence alone made your skin burn. The only relief was that he wasn’t sensitive to the Force. If he knew what you thought every time you saw his hands or brushed against him, you’d want to drown yourself.

A few hours after you hid in his shop and got drunk together, you both decided it would be fun to practice some moves and fighting techniques, without lightsabers. Minutes later, you found yourself straddling Qimir’s lap, pinning his hands above his head. You knew he could easily turn the tables and have his way with you, but he didn't move a muscle. Instead, he laid there, letting you crush his lap as he circled your face. You remembered it vividly: how his breath tickled you, how his lips were so close that moving an inch would ruin your carefully built friendship. You were grateful for the self-control classes your Master put you through.

Now you were seated on the floor, leaning against the cold surface of the counter, staring out the window. The black curtains were no obstacle to you. You heard Qimir coming out of the shower; he didn’t want to smell like the gasoline you accidentally spilled on him. You held a glass of some beverage Qimir had prepared, both of you slowly getting dizzy from boredom and drinks. Resting your head against the table, you closed your eyes and saw Qimir through the Force. He was still in his small, cozy bathroom, drying himself with a towel. His hair was wet but looked better than it had a few days ago. His back muscles flexed as he raised his arms to dry his hair. You hadn't realized he was so fit under his clothes, and it made you squirm in your seat.

You knew you shouldn’t be spying on him like this, but the only time you had seen him like this was in your dreams, and reality was far more enticing. Your thoughts grew louder with each passing second, one screaming over another.

He was your friend and also worked for your Master. It would be wrong. You knew the consequences it could have on your relationship with Qimir, and you didn’t want to risk it. But the way he looked at you, the way his proximity made you feel, and the thought of his body against yours drove you crazy.

Your Master wasn’t against you having lovers and fulfilling your desires, as long as you stayed loyal to him. But you weren’t sure how he would feel if his two subjects started something together.

“You alright?” Qimir’s voice woke you from your thoughts as he stood in front of you. Only in his pants. You looked up at him, trying to contain your craving as you checked him up. Droplets still falling down his chest as he leaned against the other shelf, looking down at you from dangerous vicinity.

You almost choked on air, forcing yourself to look away.

“Yeah,” you choked on your words, lifting the glass to take a sip of your untouched brew. “Why you ask?” you forced a smile, missing his still wet, glossy chest to get to his face. Your heart dropped as you met with his prolonged stare. Half-lidded dark eyes staring right at you, his silhouette towering over you as he took a step closer, throwing the towel he was holding on the table.

“You staring into distance kind of scared me.” He chuckled, tilting his head as he leaned against the counter, you almost broke your neck looking up at him. He was right above you.

His hand was placed right above his pants that got to caress his thighs first. His skin was clean and wet, scars decorating his abs. His muscular chest was uncovered, free for you to admire. When he spoke to you his voice was low and raspy, different from the one he usually used. Your heart fluttered as you noticed his eyes wondering around you as he awaited your response.

You had to move, you thought to yourself. Pushing yourself against the floor you lifted yourself to your legs, the drink in your hand spilling as your hand twitched from almost falling into Qimir’s arms. You could feel the warmth radiating of off him and smell the shower gel he used. His hair was dripping wet, droplets adoring his sharp collarbones. His nipples were hard from the chilly temperature in the shop, his forearm big and large, holding his body above the table.

“Just, concentrating.” You coughed, putting the glass on the counter. “So,” you woke yourself from your dreaming, turning away from him, trying hard not to stumble. The drinking wasn’t as bad as Qimir’s half naked figure centimeters away from you. You felt faint and your thoughts only got worse, like somebody was putting them in. You felt a pressure, but you were convinced you were doing it to yourself subconsciously.

“Is everything okay?” You heard Qimir asked again behind you, feeling him walk towards you. You could feel his hands lifting, so when you turned back to face him, they brushed against your stomach. You had to fight back a moan.

“Just, the Jedi thing.” You smiled, hoping you were convincing enough, and he wouldn’t suspect even the theme of your thoughts. Resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms against your chest, you put a leisure expression on your face, as your mind raced with images. “It’s stressing me out.” You unnecessary added, trying to stare anywhere but his face or his arms or his exposed chest. He had to be cold.

“It’ll pass in a few days.” He smirked, lifting his arm to rest it against your shoulder. The cold skin made you gasp but not as much as his dark eyes.

“I just don’t want to bother you here for days.” You tried to convince yourself. “You surely have things to do, and my Master will be waiting for the news. I’ll go after sundown.” You didn’t wanna go but you had to inform your Master and the air between you and Qimir started to be intoxicating if you didn’t do anything.

“I’m sure he already knows.” He cocked his head, pulling his arm away but leaving his fingers to tickle your skin.

“You told him?” you wondered, pushing your thighs together as a small smirk appeared on his smile.

Fuck.

“No,” he denied, his eyes leaving yours, to trace them down your body. “But I’m sure he knows. Maybe he wants you to relax for a while.” He implied. You dropped your gaze from his eyes to his lips, your core slowly heating up.

“I would rather still be sure,” you swallowed your saliva, your voice breaking, his body dangerously close to yours. “Aren’t you cold?” you let out, embarrassment washing over you. He let out a chuckle when he saw your hand awkwardly pointing at his bare chest.

“Not really,” he replied, scanning your expression. He knew you were nervous; he knew your legs were about to give up and how you struggled to pretend to breathe normally. He enjoyed every second of it.

“Good, good.” You uttered, nodding along. “As long as you’re comfortable.” You wanted to fall into some deep hole and never come out.

“Are you comfortable?” he purred, closing the space between you two, his hand lifting to your face but not actually touching you. Just hanging there, below your jaw, right next to your neck.

“Why, why wouldn’t I be.” You stumbled over your words, his eyes burning your skin open. You felt his breath against your face, his curtain bangs brushing over your forehead. His feet met with yours, his chest in front of your face.

“You don’t look the best.” He whispered, leaning in, his lips now touching your ears, sending shivers down your spine. You moved your hand to the counter next to you, praying and holding yourself for dear life. “I think you need to relax.” He teased against your ear, slowly moving to your neck.

“I think I should get ready to go.” You panted, but not moving a muscle. His one hand moved right next to yours on the table, fingertips touching yours. You were so frozen by his lips tickling your neck, you inhaled sharply when you felt his hand sneak behind your waist to pull you against him. Your hands automatically pressed against his chest, closing your eyes.

“If you want,” he rasped, lifting himself to face you. You couldn’t recognize him. His eyes were pitch-black dark, animalistic look set in them. His lips were full and pink, not a sign of the Qimir that you talked to few minutes ago. You were breathless, your heart pounding heart against your ribs.

“Do you want to go?” he whispered, carnal lust in his gaze staring right back at you. You felt the wetness between your legs growing stronger with every passing second. “Do you want me to let you go?”

“No.” you answered so fast you felt ashamed. But what followed fulfilled all your dreams and more.

All the useless items and glasses on table thrown on the floor without any of you touching them, to make a room for you as Qimir lifted you up on the counter. You shakily brought your hands into his hair as he dived into your lips, imitating sex. His hands groped your breasts, fondling them and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric of your borrowed blouse.

You felt his hand abandon your face, making its way between your legs, feeling your wetness through the pants. You were soaked. You didn’t miss the smile on his lips when his fingers pushed against your core, feeling how wet and useless you were for him.

You whimpered against his mouth when he pulled away, resting against your forehead as you breathed each other air.

“For how long you were this wet?” he smirked against your lips, his fingers putting pressure against your pants making you gasp. He knew the answer, he knew exactly what you liked and where you liked it. But he wanted to hear it coming from your mouth.

“Since I first saw you,” you muttered, rolling your hips against his fingers for more friction. As soon as you made that movement, he pulled his fingers away to shoved them inside your mouth. You didn’t protest and without hesitation started to circle your tongue around them. His fingers were thick and long, making you choke when he moved them deeper.

“Such a fucking slut.” He growled, his legs spreading yours apart. Your heart fluttered at his words and confirming its statement when you let out a moan, from his fingers sneaking its way under your pants and panties to find your burning clit. You threw your head back, as your back arched, wanting to feel more of his touch.

Qimir watched you with satisfaction spread on his face as he felt you getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to his digits. He continued teasing your clit, rubbing it in circles as his other hand squeezed your breast roughly.

“You want it that bad?” he murmured, his voice raspy and electrifying. He chuckled at your failed attempt to respond, inserting his finger into your soaked hole. He pumped it slow and deep, reveling in your reaction. “No worries now.” He taunted.

Qimir couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he watched you squirm and moan. He relished the power he had over you, keeping you in the dark and letting you believe you weren't being humiliated in front of your Master. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch you for his cock.

“Let me hear you beg for it,” His eyes gleamed with lust as he towered over you, plunging his fingers deeper inside of your cunt. He curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot as he pumped them faster. “I want to hear you plead for my cock.”

You had no idea Qimir had this in him, but you were so dizzy because of his fingers fucking you hard, you had no strength to focus on anything else.

“Please Qim-“you shivered, eyes rolling back in your head. “Please I need you inside me.” Your breath hitched, his fingers curling and spreading your cunt.

“Atta girl.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you, receiving a vulgar insult thrown at him. He relished in seeing you like this. He dreamed of this every day, wanting you, his pupil, spread open in front of him, letting him take you however he wanted. You were his and he was gonna make sure you understood what exactly that meant.

He smirked mischievously before leaning forward to kiss you deeply, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Once I start, complain all you want, I’m not gonna stop.” He whispered against your lips before breaking away and looking deep into your eyes. He was a totally different man and it made you shiver throughout all your body. Even his energy changed, letting it wrap around you in the Force.

Qimir startled you when his hands landed on your chest, pushing you back so you’d lay open on the counter, legs spread open for him to take. Smiling excitedly, he grabbed your hips and move you closer to the edge of the table, before slowly unbuckling his pants.

“You ready?” he asked, licking his lips before pulling his cock out, already covered in pre-cum. He looked so beautiful above you, his hips so close to yours, his hair falling into his face and his chest raising as fast as yours. You looked a mess, but you were his mess and he wanted to devour you.

Nodding, you made yourself comfortable on the table, its cold surface making you shiver.

Smirking, he positioned his dick at your entrance and slowly thrust himself inside, making sure to stretch you nice and slow, taking his time to make the moment last. He bit back a moan, looking down at you lovingly as you struggled to keep your eyes open and not pass out at his thick cock filling you up.

“You’re doing great so far for me.” He grinned, before pulling out and slamming back in, his movements becoming faster and rougher. You forced yourself to grab the ends of the table to hold yourself in place, Qimir’s grip on your hips being nothing compared to the way he was treating your pussy.

His thrusts became harder, loving the way your walls wrapped around his cock, squeezing him tightly with each thrust.

“You’re finally getting what you dreamed of,” he groaned, lifting your hips to drive his cock deeper before pounding away. “Getting fucked by your Master.”

You cried out when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, not realizing the meaning of his words until seconds later.

“What,” you tried to lift your head up, but the way his grip tightened on your waist to fuck you harder had you failing to catch your breath. Your heart started to pound faster as the realization hits.

He saw your expression change but your body kept replying to his merciless thrusts. His hand moved from your waist to reach for your head, lifting you up, face to face. His forehead was covered in sweat, his long hair curling around his ears.

“You did so well on your last mission, I had to reward you.” He panted, not stopping his assault on your cunt. He read the conflict in your mind, letting you come to your own conclusion.

“You’re,” you trembled, his cock spreading your walls so good you had trouble to even consider the words he was saying, denying yourself.

“You’re such a good apprentice but such a slut now,” he mocked you, his hand moving from your hair to your neck, putting in pressure. “I wished you realized sooner tho. We could’ve had this every little visit of yours.” You cried out as his hand fully wrapped around your neck, his cock never stopping filling your cunt.

“Master, I don’t understand,” you managed to breathe out, feeling his cock start twitching inside your walls. You heard him groan, right next to your ear, at the feeling of your tight hole gripping him. He started to thrust harder, feeling the friction build up.

Resting your foreheads against each other and swallowing each other’s moans, had the both of you sweat, the room picking up your scents.

Qimir reached down, rubbing your clit as he continued to fuck you hard. He could feel the tension building inside of you and knew you were close.

“Cum for me, love.” He growled, his hand never leaving your neck and pulling you closer to him. “Cum for your Master.” He hitched, picking up the pace, slamming into you as hard as he could. He could feel his own orgasm approaching.

His grip on your throat tightened as he fucked you harder and faster, slowly losing control of his strength. He could see the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he pounded into you and squeezed your throat harder. Your hand automatically few to his hand that held you, struggling to breathe but not enough to make you pass out.

“You belong to me,” his voice broke, letting you know he was getting closer and closer to losing it. “You’re mine.” He whimpered into your ear, his hips bucking wildly, driving his cock deep inside of you as he came, filling you up, marking you as his. His paced slowed down to match yours, wanting to feel you cum around him, your walls almost crushing him.

Qimir didn’t move and kept his cock inside you, letting himself and you calm down and try to catch your breath. As you regain your composure, your head against Qimir’s chest, your mind almost exploded with the overwhelming thoughts.

I fucked Qimir.

I fucked my Master.

Qimir was my Master all along.

You wanted to run away, hide yourself and never come out, but Qimir’s, your Master’s arms wrapped around you and your pussy still keeping his cock warm, had you melting, not wanting to move an inch. You were confused, terrified, and thrilled all at the same time. All the times when Qimir disappeared without explanation, all the time he lied to the Jedi or did things only Force sensitive beings could achieve. It all made sense now and clicked together like a puzzle.

But you also realized he had the power to read your thought all along. He could see the impure images, the ideas, and pictures you had in your mind. Your complains and desires. Your fear. But that didn’t matter anymore. You let your Master used you, like the good apprentice you were. You had no idea what would happen now, your heart wanting to jump out of your chest, your skin covered in goosebumps. You were scared but the desire was stronger. And if Qimir ever taught you something was to transform those emotions into power. And you had enough desire to annihilate the entire Jedi order, with Qimir by your side.

[sillygoosealert]

CAN YOU DO A REVENGE VERSION OF SUKUNA BETRAYING READER??!! LIKE WHAT IF READER RUNS AWAY BC THEY ACCIDENTALLY WITNESS HIM BEDDING ANOTHER CONCUBINE WHAT WOULD SUKUNA DO? SEND AN ARMY, BURN THE WORLD DOWN?!! 😭😭😭 AND CAN U TRY TO WEITE SOME COMFORT OR FLUFF AT THE END TYSMN

The Morning After (Before)

Days After Initiating Sexual-intercourse (whY)

angst, comfort in being alone, upset (angry) Sukuna, you leave, BEFORE you leave it's a toxic relationship, AFAB reader, woopsie Daisy- i killed off the reader (i got carried away ::( )

To explain your feelings to anyone but yourself brings tears to your already puffy eyes. Since that night, there are so many things you've noticed that you could talk about endlessly.

For starters, his boldness has increased plenty- as he is now more than comfortable with having multiple concubines clinging onto him while he slouches in his throne. When asked to describe him just a month or two ago, you would've gone on and on about how he was a gentle giant with you- a lie, but you would've sugar-coated anything when it came to him.

Right now, all you could even think about when it came to him was how good it would feel for all those women to look at him with disgust at his actions instead of devotion and whatever made-up fantasy they had made up in their heads. That's how you look at him anyway.

You despise keeping up with your cleaning and even dread entering his chamber with him. Furthermore, you do not act like you are interested in him. Eyes once filled with adornment and even some curiosity are now loaded with resentment and a trace of disinterest. He sees it, everyone else sees it, and you feel it. But it doesn't make you feel better knowing he knows- it just makes the pit of dread in your stomach grow.

You know you want him to care, but you can't help but feel he puts up a show of all the women at his disposal when you're in the vicinity- stretching his upper arms out and putting each one around a mistress while one or two sit on his spread-out lap. All you can think when you look at him is how much of an arrogant whore he truly is.

When he calls someone to bring you to his chambers, he always makes sure to feel up whoever is bringing you before shooing them out. His shoulders broaden as he motions you to come up on the bed. He looks bigger than he did a moment ago, and you can't help but feel he's doing it on purpose.

It's been weeks since you watched him choose 5 minutes of feeling good over you sleeping well at night. Was it worth it? You don't know. But the way he tries to passionately kiss you while his lower half eats you out makes you think he's trying to act like it didn't mean anything.

Regardless, you can't help but notice that the same woman is always seated on his lap whenever you catch a glance of him basking in all the attention he can.

The light slap to your thigh makes you look at him directly in the eyes for a second, before looking off to the side. That makes him huff, sitting upwards. Silence speaks volumes for both of you, as you are refusing to talk about your feelings because you think you know how it'll go; and he doesn't want to admit he's hurt by your rejection. So you both don't say anything.

This happens whenever he tries to initiate something intimate. You shut down. It often ends with stillness enfolding the room and an awkwardness surrounding you.

After a few minutes of waiting you leave without a word, and he lets you. While you go on to cry into your pillow and go on another night without comfort, while he gets a few concubines to praise him and fill the growing void with arrogance.

The more you clean and the less you eat and sleep, the feeling of wanting to die increases. Passing out when you get just a chance to lie down is now a common occurrence for you, as well as taking your time standing up.

Maybe you're depressed because you thought he would indulge in your selfishness and let you be the only woman to touch him so intimately. It's also possible that all the chemicals and labor are finally taking their toll on you and your body, meaning your time is shortening just as much as the other maids.

But the day doesn't start with you preparing to dust and sweep; it starts in Ryomen's Room.

You aren't upset anymore. You know that it contributes nothing and won't change anything. Instead of crying into your pillow or blaming yourself for his actions, you just go on. The world kept spinning after that night. Your heart kept beating- for now. The thought of him having sex like it wasn't once you under him isn't frustrating anymore. Not knowing what you want is, but you can handle that. You won't be his woman- you won't even be his man; you won't be anything to him if you can have a say in it.

He sits you in a chair facing his bed, clearing his throat as if he's going to speak- but he doesn't. Raising your eyebrow, you once again are met with speechlessness.

"What?" On cue, he acts offended, as if he isn't relieved you chose to speak up.

"Don't speak to me like that, Concubine."

"I'm more of a maid now than anything, my lord." He hums when you say that.

"You could be more than that- you could be much more. If you weren't so thoughtless." Thoughtless isn't a word you would use. Maybe more impassive- or a less self-absorbed characterization.

"What makes you say that?" An obnoxious sigh comes out of him.

"Jealousy fills you to the point you can't enjoy being one of my favorite concubines," He pauses

"It must be…oppugning to see me with so many women who aren't you," His posture straightens.

"But understand, the only difference between you and them is how you act."

"What's wrong with you? You don't understand why I feel this way at all, do you?" A sneer is plastered across his face now.

"Redirect your hostility towards yourself. Your jealousy is your concern, Not mine."

"I'm not talking to you. Lecture your other mistresses-" A hand pivots your head to face him.

"Keep speaking to me like you are not leagues below me. I won't hesitate to discard you."

"I'm sure you won't." He motions for you to go away as another concubine waits at the door. They give you a curious look before heading in. It's just her, no one else. That used to be you.

Later that night, after the last meal of the day, you're mopping the dining hall floors. You're pouring more cleaner into the water. You are alone.

That realization floods awful thoughts into your mind as the morning replays in your mind. And without thinking, you unscrew the cap again and bring it to your lips.

While taking a large sip from it, liquid spilling from your mouth and onto the floor, the taste of soap and something else fills your senses.

You start to gag and dry heave as it goes down your throat. Swallowing your vomit, you run off to your room after putting your things away.

There isn't anything after you close your eyes, not anymore for you, at least.

You fall asleep thinking about the night in question. It loads you with a peaceful feeling.

There's nothing you can do now. No more choosing to stay silent when all you want to do is crawl into your side of his bed and cry. You don't even have to choose to let go of your feelings of envy and insecurity.

You wonder what he'll do with your body the morning after somebody finds your decomposing body.

Tag list: @kbirdieee2540 @apollogeticx @night-brain