#berrys ship basket

[berryshipbasket]

FINALLY got Ratchet and Clank rift apart!! IT IS SO FUN AND JUST- AUGHGHG

I FINALLY GET TO SEE THEM BOTH <333 AIUGHGHG Lemme mife them up fr fr

[berryshipbasket]

Why you gotta call me out like that so violently /j

> "i miss [f/o]"

> says the person perfectly capable of revisiting their media at any time

[berryshipbasket]

Playing the Resident evil 4 remake has made me fall in love with the Merchant all over again oh my gODDDD <333 HE'S SO EXPRESSIVEE!!!!!!!!!

[berryshipbasket]

More moodboards!!

Put these all together!!

For @flowercarnival62 Mr Dark (Mr Dark art by Saylem Studios), @shipwrights-lovewright Fred Jones, @mis3rabl3m3lody Monaca (OC) and Madeline from celeste for an anon!!

[berryshipbasket]

F/O Moodboard requests?

Hey, I love making moodboards and im bored soooo- self ship community give me a f/o (doesn't matter if I don't know them) with a small run down of their personality and I'll make a moodboard of em! headcanons are allowed too : ] I'll try my best!

if you want one just ask me, please dont be afraid to ask!!

I will only do SFW themes tho!! tyy

[berryshipbasket]

AUGGFGG THANK YOUUU UE UE UE

Def gonna request more when I get the courage this is so <333333

Hii! I've been reading a lot of your TF2 X reader fics and I finally got the courage to try n request one fggfy 👉👈

Was wondering if you could do one of Soldier and Sniper with S/O who is a lil on the chubby side and isn't the most confident?

Tyy!!! ;w;

WAA ty for reading and requesting!! this is a super cute prompt! <3

Soldier and sniper with a chubby s/o

Soldier:

He honestly doesn’t understand why you don’t feel confident- your gorgeous! obviously he doesn’t mean to discount your feelings, but he would give anything for you to see yourself the way he sees you.

He even makes it a point to randomly lift you up into his arms like it’s no problem, because it is no problem! literally regardless of your size he will carry you around the field like you’re a bag of feathers.

He’s the most idiotic man you have ever known and yet he’s your idiot. ♡

“Cupcake, you’re as beautiful as the flag rising up to the anthem every morning. I could say that one hundred times each day if you needed me to!”

Sniper:

He is utterly entranced by you, like all the time.

He thinks you’re the cutest thing, and he makes it incredibly clear with how he praises every little bit of your body- sneaking up to give you ticklish kisses against your face and neck, before leaning down to kiss your shoulders, then your chest and eventually your tummy!

He wants you to feel like the beautiful person you are, and he stops at nothing to achieve this.

“Roo, those sickly lookin’ models have nothing on you- No one could even compete with how gorgeous you are..!

[berryshipbasket]

requested by @betterdonutgalaxy !! Captain spaceboy moodboard with themes of 80's spacecore and computers! His design gave me a very old 80's spacecore vibe!! I wasn't entirely sure how to do the heroic vibes but I hope this is ok!! ;w;

[aesthetic-bbyg]

SWEETNESS ~ BUGGY

LA!buggy x straw hat!reader

Based off of this post bc it made me giggle PT 2

Nattie speaks: y’all this mf clown has no right to be so fine but LAWRD. I’d do anything just for one lick. This is short nd simple but cute🤭

ZORO DRAGGED HIS FEET across the wooden floors of the Going Merry, ignoring the muffled screeching of the clown head inside the dark sack as he set his eyes on thing. Nightfall was approaching, everyone on the ship wanted some rest, yet nobody was getting any with the constant whining of Buggy. The green haired man pushed open your door, making you jumped slightly as you looked towards him with a raised brow.

“I give up, all yours now.” Zoro voiced practically dripped in annoyance, he tossed the sack across the room, making it land onto the soft cushion of your bed before slamming the door behind him.

You could hear groans coming from the sack, “Damn you, you fucking broccoli-haired ass!” You chuckled softly, putting down the comb you had in your hand and walking towards the scruffy bag. As you released the clown head he sighed in content, breathing in the fresh scent of berries that engulfed the room. “Ah, sweetness, so good to see you!”

“Nice to see you too, Buggy.” You giggled, “You doing alright there?” You asked, smiling a bit as the man got comfortable on your bed.

“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” He winked with a flirtatious smirk on his red painted lips. “I definitely thought he was going to put me with that weird chef guy again so he could chop me into piece and cook me or something.”

“Looks like you got lucky today.” You smirked back, grabbing him and placing him on the small vanity, going back to combing through your hair. Buggy was a simple man, with simple needs, especially since his whole body was gone. The angle his head was facing gave him more fuel into his dirty thoughts. His eyes directly faced your chest, eyes captured on the line of cleavage peeking from the low cut tank top you had on. He was hypnotized by you, for the first time since he was taken by Luffy and placed on the ship to sail away to Arlong island he’d gone completely silent.

You simply hummed, clueless of how the clown shifted slightly to get a closer view. You suddenly let out a huff, dropping the comb and looking over at the clown. “Y’know, I like having you around here, you totally make me feel special and even though the rest of the crew might really, really not like you, know I’m on your side.”

“Mhmm.” Buggy hummed in response, eyes hungrily watching you. “I appreciate that, sweetness.”

You smiled. “You hungry?” You stood up and took him in your arms, cradling him carefully like he was a baby. The blue hairs that peaked from under the striped bandana tickled your skin.

Buggy enjoyed being around you, especially since you were so generous and careful with him, the others simply tossed him into the sack or an empty barrel whenever he even spoke. But you, you fed him, you defended him, you took care of him and did the exact opposite of what everyone else did. “I’m hungry for one thing, that’s for sure, sweetness.” The clown replied, eyes still clued onto your tits as you entered the small kitchen.

“Hey, maybe we can brush through that tangled mess once we get a quick snack.” You replied giddily with a big smile, “Hey, and wanna know another thing—“ You heard a string of groans follow as soon as you stepped into the room with Buggy.

“I gave him to you specifically to get away from him.” Zoro groaned, making Sanji nod in agreement.

“I’ll be out soon, stop your whining.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, reaching for the basket of fruit and picking out two apples. You picked up a knife and cutting board, quickly going to work and chopping up a few apple slices. “So as I was saying, nobody has ever taken me seriously, which why I also like you, you don’t make fun of me which is what many others do.”

Zoro and Sanji glanced at eachother with questioning looks as you proceeded with your mini rant, both of them making eye contact with the clown head that smirked at them, a cheeky look in his eyes.

“But I mean, Luffy chose me to be a part of his crew so obviously I can be more, I’m not dumb, and I feel like more people need to take me seriously.”

“Hey.” The clown smirked as he watched your every move, finally speaking up about his slight obsessing with your chest. “Nice tits.”

“Thank you!” You happily replied with a smile, placing the slices on a clean plate and taking Buggy back to your room as everyone stared in shock. “Goodnight boys!”

“Yeah, goodnight fellas!” Buggy called out, and if only he’d had the rest of his body he’d most definitely be given them a middle finger.

“How is it that a clown can do better at getting that girl then me?” Sanji muttered in annoyance.

Forever will live, love, and laugh Buggy

yummy, I <3 men who are bbyg’s

[sunni-stuff]

I've been thinking about pirate!Ghost for the past couple weeks. I needed to get this out now.

-🌤! Tags: Afab, Uncontrollable Horniness, nsfw, age-gap. (early to mid 20s.)

The Sea Dogs were an entire ship full of ragtag men, each with his own story and reasons for joining the crusade across countless seas. Captain John Price, the leader of this crew, was a renowned figure known for his leadership and countless achievements. He had led his crew through years of wear and tear on the unforgiving waves, making their name heard far and wide.

None were as infamous as Ghost, his trusted gunner, known for his quick dagger throws and even quicker shots. A hulking man with a standoffish demeanor and unwavering cautiousness, Ghost never fully showed his face. He wore a black bandana tied around the lower half of his face, with black paint smudged around his eyes, revealing nothing yet leaving his harsh brown orbs to pierce the soul of anyone who stared too long.

To those who did not know him, Ghost was intimidating, deadly, and most of all, someone to avoid. He was fine with this. He relished the benefits his appearance gave him, how people shrank away at the mere sight of him, even from a distance. It made sense–who in their right mind would want to be near a man who had put a bullet through so many men that he couldn't count them all on his fingers?

Ghost was ruthless.

A silent marauder who took what he wanted without a second thought, plundering from men and women alike. Wherever he walked, the bodies and blood of the lives he took at sea seemed to follow. The culprit, his calloused hands bore the weight of his trusted flintlock, a companion who would even accompany him to his very grave.

A dirty bastard indeed.

Too dirty for the likes of you.

You.

You, who he sees, enter the blacksmith's forge. You, who wore a simple white dress with a black corset tied tightly around your waist. You, who smiled so innocently to the islanders as you carried out your chores. Running errands for your father all around the quaint island, carrying a simple woven basket filled with bread and biscuits in your delicate arms.

His mouth runs dry.

Ghost can't take his eyes off you as you walk past him, saying, “hello.” to a nearby merchant. Your sweet voice renders him speechless, drowning out everything else around him. He can’t hear Price bartering anymore. He can’t hear Gaz and Soap ribbing on who can pull in the most lasses. All he can hear is the sound of his heart beating and your brief yet lovely hello. He watches the sway of your hips beneath the fabric of your dress, how your stays lifts your delectable bosom with each breath.

He wants—needs to sink his teeth in you.

Ghost is desperate to touch you, to possess you completely. He craves the feeling of his hands on your skin, his lips ravishing yours as he listens to the sweet moans in his head. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you and claim you as his own, burying his thick cock deep within your weeping pussy.

You’re a real peach. All smiles and fluttering lashes. A young thing, he assumes, based on the way the people dote on you so as you pass by shops, making your way back to your father’s bakery.

He’s an older man, one weathered by storms and battles, which do nothing to deter him from his new conquest. After all, the older the berry, the sweeter the juice.

And Ghost believes himself sweet enough.

Ghost discreetly adjusts the growing bulge in his pants and conceals any weapons he may be carrying.

He couldn't afford to scare off his darling pet.

And with that, Ghost followed after you, a maiden worth more than any treasure.

🌤 I had really bad writers blocked and was unable to write for a while, but this has been floating around in my pea brain for so long, so please enjoy.

P.S. This wasn't proofread.

[berryshipbasket]

AUGHGHG WOWOWOOWOWWW

SO this was intended to be a redraw of this, but then the atmosphere evolved from sunset to night, and since the poses were already kinda similar, i suppose it can constitute as a redraw of this as well? :)

[berryshipbasket]

Been playing Majora's Mask again

And I like the Happy mask salesman a normal amount.

And by that I mean it's not a normal amount

[berryshipbasket]

Finally got these done! Thank you guys for being patient with me, I've been super sick recently and haven't had the energy to make stuff but I'm feeling a lot better!!

Avinia from Monster hunter for @my-canon-now as well as Tychus from Starcraft wings of legacy and Deathwing from World of Warcraft for an anon!!

[coqxettee]

Coquette Summer

Bucket List: ☀️🧺🌸

Some ideas for your summer 2023 bucket list. Coquette activities, trips, days out and things you can do with friends or alone. Write these ideas in your journal and make your own bucket list if you like! <3

Go on a picnic ~ You can do this with friends or on your own! Take an aesthetic picnic blanket and basket, pack fruit, sandwiches, salad, cookies, cupcakes (whatever you like!) and have a Coquette picnic. Dress cute for the occasion and make sure to take lots of pictures <3

Host a Tea Party ~ Invite friends over and decorate your dining table with a pretty tablecloth. Grab fancy cups and saucers (you can find these in antique stores, or better yet a whole tea set complete with a tea pot!) and have a tea party. Drink rose or jasmine tea, have scones, bread & jam, miniature sandwiches, cookies/biscuits, cake. You could even do it Marie Antoinette, high-tea inspired. Dress all regency and cute and make it the fanciest, coquette, tea party ever! <3

Beach day ~ Grab your heart shaped sunnies and have a beach day! Bring a pink towel with you, a large pretty sun-hat, and make sure you pack all the pretty-girl beach essentials. Tanning lotion, a romance novel, fresh fruit, a blanket to sit on (if you don’t have a deck chair) sun cream (spf) lipgloss, a hair brush, and your camera to snap some cute beach shots! Walk down the boardwalk, listen to Lana and grab an ice cream, wear pink flip flops and a cute pink and white gingham bikini <3

Berry picking ~ Wear the most dreamy, float cottage-core, princess dress, a large sun hat and take a wicker basket with you to go berry picking. You can book a slot online and go into a local field. Take pictures and pick ripe berries to take home with you, ready to use for baking later on in the week <3

Baking day ~ Wear a cute little apron, put Lana on your record player in the kitchen and have a baking day! Bake cherry pie, heart-shaped cookies, jam cookies, chocolate-chip cookies, scones, cupcakes, an actual cake… anything and everything! Take cute photos when you bake, it can be great to make memories with friends. Once you’ve baked all your sweet treats, package them up and choose some to give to friends and family, some for later occasions (picnics & tea-parties) and most importantly… some for you! <3

Go to a market ~ If you live in the country there are loads of cute farmers markets on in summer. Keep some money back with you, wear a long, flowing style skirt and a bow in your hair and take a cute tote-bag to keep everything you buy in. Look for small Coquette trinkets on some of the handmade stalls, buy fresh fruit and lemonade for lunch and have a slow, relaxing day at the market <3

Antique shopping ~ Go antique shipping. For your room or house. You can find so many beautiful, Coquette homeware items, clothes, trinkets, jewelry and much more in antique shops. Google the best ones in your area, set aside a day, and go <3

Try out new café’s in your area - Google fancy café’s or even café’s that do afternoon tea. You could go with friends or have a solo cafe trip. Bring a book with you if you go on your own, to read. Or a sketchbook to sketch the world around you. Try something new on the menu! <3

Coquette movie day ~ Plump out your bedroom or living room with pink pillows, fairy lights, candles and lavender room spray. Put on the comfiest pair of pajamas you have Grab snacks, popcorn, anything you baked earlier in the week, fresh fruit (anything you like!) And have a whole day of watching JUST coquette movies. Disney princess films, any period drama’s, any mystical and magical movies, romance movies. Movies that are super light-hearted and make you feel like the princess you are inside. This is really fun to do with friends too! <3

Jewelry making ~ Learn how to make prettt, coquette jewelry. I always see such cute jewelry online and want to know if I can make it myself. The kits might be a bit pricy to buy, but once you’ve built up a jewelry making collection your all set! Make some summer earrings, necklaces, and bracelets <3

Learn to Crochet ~ Something I have wanted to learn for ages! There are tons of tutorials on YouTube and you can pick up pretty colored yarn from the market. If you are really good you can crochet things for the summer like tank tops, bikini sets and headbands! <3

Start a summer journal ~ Or just start journaling in general. I’m making a summer journal full of scrapbook pages I can add all of my coquette summer pictures too when summer is over. Decorate it with coquette stickers and really make it your own. Get creative <3

Have a self care day ~ It’s not sunny everyday in Summer (usually) so set aside one of the cloudier or cooler days for a movie day, or self care day! Wake up early and have an everything shower, and take care of YOU! Do a face mask, manicure, pedicure, do every step to your skincare routine, wash and remake your bed, tidy your room. By the end of the day you will feel like a new person and trust me it’S WORTH IT! <3

Have a sleepover ~ You kinda need friends for this one. I’m sure everyone knows how to have one but do really coquette activities! Paint each others nails, style each others hair, Watch coquette movies, talk about boys. All the classic things you see in the girly movies that you feel never actually get done at sleepovers… do them! Order pizza, do face masks, bake things, and stay up as late as possible for a… midnight feast! <3

-HERE ARE SOME MORE IDEAS! <3 -

Re-decorate your room for summer <3

Go on vacation <3

Go bowling <3

Cute cinema trip (watch a romantic movie) <3

Go to a fancy restaurant <3

Make a summer scrapbook <3

Plan cute summer outfits for the weeks ahead <3

Try out new summer hairstyles <3

Go to a milkshake-bar/diner <3

Go roller-skating <3

Go to the arcade

Find some pretty summer walks in your area, take pictures of wildlife you spot etc <3

Go to a farm (farmers daughter vibes iykyk) <3

Go to the theatre and watch the ballet <3

Have a signature, coquette summer scent <3

Write in your daily summer diary every night and seal it with a lipstick kiss <3

I hope you found these ideas helpful, aesthetic and fun! Have the best summer ever darling’s ~

🌸☀️🧺🍦🎀

[jiubilant]

cw: horror elements

He’d been a scrib of three, sticky-fingered and clinging to his sister’s skirts like an anther-burr, when first he saw a war-wasp of the Dres. In less than seven years they’d be extinct: their cliff-hives burnt, their grubs smeared across singed flagstones or speared wriggling on An-Xileel pikes. But it had been a bright morning—the dust had glittered in the air like motes of kanet, like the specks the goldsmiths blow off their tables—and the messenger from Bal Foy had circled his glorious mount three times above the marketplace, like a victorious chap’thil, before landing her in the middle of the street.

“Give her a pat,” he’d said, laughing, to the children clustering round—and the adults, too, a few merchants and house-servants whose stern faces broke with smiles. “She’s polite, my Khes.”

He ran, that scrib of three—not towards the great wasp grooming her feelers in that circle of hands, as oblivious to her admirers’ attentions as Benitah, but to a basket of comberries abandoned at a fruit-seller’s stall. The first fistful he stuffed in his mouth. The second he stretched above his head, high as he could reach.

“Khes!” he’d called, his voice shrill and garbled with fruit. He remembers the moment even now. Juice dribbling down his wrist. Dust in his throat. His little heart surging upward with that cry, as if on jeweled wings. “Khes!”

The wasp turned her alien head, broad and shining as a bonemold shield. Her feelers whiskered over him. Out flicked her wings once, twice: sheer and strong as wevet, fluted like stained glass into a thousand fiery panes.

“Hold your hand out flat, hla!” the messenger called.

He did. The mouthparts that could crush a Nordling breastplate descended to meet it. Delicately, like a lady reaching into a bowl with finger and thumb, the wasp took a single berry from his palm.

* * *

He wakes in his cold dormitory cell feeling stiff, sore, and improbably cheerful. Mzulft and its horrors, the Synod included, are behind him; it’s up to Mirabelle, now, to decide what to do with what they’ve learned. A magic staff in Hjaalmarch—perhaps the first item of import, he thinks with amusement, to ever come out of Hjaalmarch. And the Thalmor know nothing about it. And he’s rising late from a bed, not a bedroll, with the fading idea that he’d dreamed something pleasant.

“She’s stung me to the heart,” he sings in soft Velothis over his washbasin, scraping off the journey’s stubble with his shaving-knife. The ancient song comes to him in snatches, like the dream. “She’s stung me, jewel of the sky, armored queen of the valleys of the Shir”—someone raps on his door, probably one of the prentices with a question about a translation, and he takes some smiling liberties with the next line—“one moment, per favore, s'il vous plaît—”

“Break it down,” says a curt voice.

The door crashes open. He makes a startled, absurd swipe with his shaving-knife at the first of the intruders—black robes, beaky buttons that glint gold in the firelight—before a burst of magic shivers through him like heat-lightning. He hears a thump. Himself, he realizes with belated surprise, hitting the chilly floor.

“Is he immobilized?” the voice asks pleasantly.

A chorus of subordinate voices, at least three: “Yes, Secretary.”

They’ve never gone this far, thinks the man on the floor, struggling to budge limbs that have gone rigid and heavy as kedge-anchors. Something’s emboldened them at last. A heavy-gloved hand dips into the neck of his nightshirt and fishes out his Company chain.

“Justiciar Ancano was right!” the young Dominion agent attached to the hand exclaims. He dangles the pendant in the light. “East Empire Company. A factor’s clerk. A pleasure, Master”—he squints at the inscription on the copper, above the tarnished ship—“Ramo, to properly make your acquaintance.”

That’s right, the clerk thinks. They’d bungled his name on the thing. Probably in the records, too. A laugh escapes his spell-sealed lips as a stifled huff.

“Kick him,” the pleasant voice suggests. “Oh, cousin. To scribble and scrape for the mayfly enterprises of men!”

Someone does kick him. He finds himself facedown on the hearth, seeing nothing, hearing creaks and thumps and curses as the Thalmor toss his room. One rummages through his sea-chest, takes something out, slams it. His ewer shatters. Floorstones scrape in protest as they’re pried up; the thieves’ Altmeri chatter grows excited, then. They must have found his papers. The clerk scrabbles through his mind for what little Altmeris he knows—

“Closer to the fire,” says the pleasant one in Cyrod, perhaps for his benefit. The clerk’s heart petrifies like his limbs. “He fell. A terrible accident. Put his cane—yes, there. As if he’d been trying to reach it.”

Someone drags him closer to the hearth. Flings his arm into it like a peat-brick. The heat bakes his hand. “I can seal his heart-valves to be sure—”

“Don’t be a fool,” snaps the pleasant one. “That shrieking cat who heads up Restoration would notice. Let us defer, out of respect for our cousin, to Velothi custom—”

The click of the closing door.

The silence.

He can breathe, the clerk thinks, breathing fast. He can blink. Involuntary motions, then, are not suppressed by the spell—only those that he wills. Sitting up. Crying out. Smothering the fire nibbling, with increasing interest, at his sleeve.

It was once said of the war-wasps of the Dres, he recalls with faint amusement, that the venom of their stings worked much the same. One was advised, perhaps as a way to bide one’s time before the end, to battle the enervation in increments: try wriggling a finger. A toe.

Something pops in the fire. The cell begins to smell of smoke and singed hair. He wonders whether the jerk of a limb exposed to flame, to that sharp, betraying sting, is involuntary—no, it seems not. The pain scourges his arm, his ear, the side of his head.

A finger, he thinks, concentrating all his awareness of his body into the palm of his lifeless hand. A toe. A terrible accident, they’ll say when they find him. Don’t think it. Hold your hand out flat, hla—

A strained rap on the door. “Magister?”

Relief crashes through him where the magic holds him fast. His thumb twitches free of the spell. It makes less noise than a crumb of peat shifting in the hearth.

“Magister,” calls the voice, dear and strangely small, “the—the Master Wizard, she wants you in the quadrangle—”

“Brelyna,” a familiar brogue interrupts, “J’zargo does not think he’s in.”

Her voice rises nearly to a wail. “Where is he, then—”

They’re going, the clerk thinks, gripped by a panic more searing than the flames climbing his sleeve. His hand jerks. It hits his cane, which the Thalmor had propped so tellingly on the fireplace-jamb.

The cane wobbles. He holds his breath.

Then, with a magnificent scrape, it clatters to the floor.

A silence.

“Is it unlocked?” asks Brelyna.

The creak of the door. A gasp. The panicked squeak of boots. Then someone throws the contents of the washbasin on him: a shocking blue chill, like a plunge in pack ice. He breathes out. His shaving-knife swirls past his head on a runnel of suds.

“Turn him over.” J’zargo’s voice, sharp as claws. “Is he dead?”

“I don’t think so.” Magic crackles in the air above his head. “I, I think he’s—didn’t Master Neloren show us how to dispel this? Let me try—”

Something heavy and sluggish evaporates from the clerk's bones. He stirs with some difficulty, blinking soap from his eyes, and finds himself in a circle of worried hands: J’zargo lifting his head, Onmund buffeting the last of the fire, Brelyna slapping his ridiculous half-shaved face.

“Hlai,” he rasps, laughing, trying to raise his arms to fend them off. They’ll beat him to death. Ai, a terrible accident. “Hlai, I’m not a rug—”

“You look a rug,” snaps Onmund, terse as ever. The clerk recalls that he’s wearing the nightshirt patterned with fleurs. “What happened? Who spelled you?”

The less they know, the better. The clerk flexes his hands, then his face, breathing with great care around the boot-shaped ache in his side. “Shouldn’t you”—the fire’s ghost gnaws his arm when he bends it, and he winces—“be in class?”

“In class?” Onmund sits him up so roughly that they nearly knock heads. The boy’s hands, the clerk realizes with a start, are shaking. “We were in class. Don’t you know what’s happening outside?”

Brelyna sits back in the mess of hearth-ash and washwater, rubbing her crumpling face with both hands. Her voice wavers like a shrill flute. “I thought you were dead, too.”

“Too?” The clerk, blistered and dripping, stares at his pupils. “Who’s dead?”

A muscle jumps in Onmund’s ashen face. J’zargo flattens his ears and looks away. It’s Brelyna, choking on overwhelmed tears, who answers.

“The Archmage,” she sobs. Outside, muffled by the dormitory walls, a scream pitches above the cries of gulls. “The Archmage.”

[lovelybucky1]

Insignificant

kinktober day 14- bondage

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT- non con, AFAB!Reader, handcuffs, vaginal reader, finger sucking, rough treatment, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Anakin Skywalker was no longer the man you knew. He was a great warrior, a general, an upstanding person, a kind soul, a Jedi, and most importantly, a friend. He was never meant to be a mechanical killing machine for Darth Sidious to lead around on a leash.

You managed to escape the violence of Order 66, though not without sustaining injuries of your own. For months after the massacre you saw visions of Anakin with orange glowing eyes in your dreams. The screams of children could be heard in the background. You were haunted.

You know some of the other Jedi escaped, though you don't know who or where they went. Being a Jedi is a death sentence these days, so it's better to lay low and not know anything more than absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, laying low on an outer rim planet where you live off the grid on your own little farm isn't low enough for the Empire. You returned from the forest with a basket of berries and mushrooms to add to your stockpile when you found your house burning, your animals slaughtered, and Darth Vader himself standing among the flames.

After seeing the brutal events of Order 66, you took not being killed on sight as a blessing. The stormtroopers surrounded you, grabbing your arms and forcing you to your knees before Vader. The dark mask was expressionless, but the tilt of his head to the side made you feel like a wounded animal he was about to put down.

"Take them to the ship," he said in a modulated voice. He sounded nothing like the man you knew.

You were hauled aboard the massive ship that they carelessly landed in a field of wild flowers. It was almost poetic how this hunk of machine destroyed something natural and beautiful.

Once the hatch of the ship closed, you accepted that your fate was sealed. You were brought to a cell in the bowels of the ship and abandoned, left with your own thoughts and restricted by force-blocking cuffs.

You were alone for hours until someone came by. You heard the sound of heavy boots banging against the metal grate floor, but it wasn't until you heard the heavy breathing that you turned your attention towards the intruder.

"Jedi," he says as a form of greeting.

You glare at him through the bars of your cell. "Vader."

He says nothing more. He only stands there, emotionless and unmoving. Anakin must have learned patience through his transformation, because the man you knew hated silence.

"Why am I still alive?" you ask. You'd rather be dead than be taken prisoner and be forced to work for the Empire. "You killed all the others. Why not me?"

"He wants you," Vader says crypticly.

"Who does?" you ask.

"Your friend," he says.

Anakin. He's in there somewhere, obviously, and he wants to save you. Maybe this is his way of making up for his atrocities, by making right with you. It could never be enough, but it comforts you to know the monster before you isn't entirely evil.

The door to your cell slides open and Vader steps in, looking like a giant as he towers over your slumped form on the floor. You look up at him but you can't get a read on him. The cuffs block any force sensitivity so you can't even feel him. The door shuts behind him, trapping you in a small box with the face of evil.

"He cares for you," Vader says. "He wants to protect you." It warms your heart in a weird way to hear him say that. "But you are insignificant to me."

Vader reaches down and grabs you by the roots of your hair. He tugs harshly until your scrambling to find your footing and stand so he doesn't rip out your hair.

He dwarfs you. You never noticed how large he was until you were face to face, mere inches apart.

Vader pushes you back roughly, sending you slamming into the wall. Your body crushes your arms that are bound behind your back and you whimper in pain.

"He will watch me destroy you," Vader says as he advances, crowding you against the wall.

He brings his hand down to the waistband of your pants and tugs, effortlessly ripping them off. Your underwear receive the same treatment, though the pull on your skin is painful.

He kicks your legs apart with his boots. The heavy, hard material on your exposed ankles hurts like a bitch, but there's nothing you can do about it other than scream.

Vader shoves his gloved hand between your thighs and carelessly invades your cunt with his thick fingers. You cry out in pain, beg him to stop and for someone to help, but you know it's useless. Everyone here does Vader's bidding, and disobeying their lord is an instant death sentence.

He grows tired of your crying, so he shuts you up by restricting your throat with the force. You have enough air to breathe, but not enough to speak.

You look into the blank helmet with teary eyes, hoping that somehow you can connect with Anakin. You know he's in there, you just have to bring him out.

Vader's fingers split you open painfully. You don't know what he has underneath the suit, but you fear that it will be even worse than the treatment being done to you now. When he pulls his hand away, your creamy juices coat the black glove.

He grabs your jaw and squeezes hard, forcing you to open your mouth. He shoves the wet fingers inside for you to clean, tasting yourself off of them. It's disgusting and degrading, but you're helpless to resist.

When he pulls his fingers out, his glove glistens with your spit. A string of it connects your lip to his glove and when it breaks, it falls against your chin.

Vader drops his hand and you're left staring up at him. The panel of his chest presses against yours uncomfortably, digging into you. You're legs are shaking, not from pleasure but from a mix of fear and the ache in your pussy.

Vader then grabs you by the shoulder and pushes you down, sending you sprawling onto the metal floor. He turns his back to you and the door opens again. Wordlessly, he leaves you alone once again, his heavy boots echoing down the corridor.

[berryshipbasket]

I've been really on edge and and not in a good place mentally for a while with a really bad headache so for some positivity all I want is just to hug and be comforted by my goofy alien mife..

GUYS HE'S SO SILLY He makes me feel safer <33