#cw darth vader

[thefastestelementalmasteralive]

procrastinating school work so let me talk about my starwars (Anakin) aus

There's that lion!Vader Au, if I named it I don't remember the name but basically, either Anakin doesn't tell Padme where he's going or she doesn't go to Mustafar. might actually have R2D2 with Padme as her bodyguard or Anakin just didn't want r2 to know what he did to the separatist leaders. anakin doesn't come back from Mustafar because when he leaves the planet, the force decides 'okay, enough atrocities for the next... two decades.' and transforms him into a lion and sends him to a green planet. Sidious finds him a year later and decides to just build a gladiator ring and throw him in there to execute the people he wants dead on television.

19 years later Luke, Leia, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Padme, Cody, and Rex all get captured and are sentenced to be executed as a group with some other non-important people. Anakin eats the non-important people and vaguely recognizes some but tries to kill Luke and Leia because he doesn't recognize them.

SITS au - sith in the senate au - me trying to explore my favorite arc (mortis) and what would have happened if Anakin left with the son (and the daughter) and the father let Ahsoka and Obi-wan go thirty minutes later but Anakin is nowhere in sight when they go back to the real world. this is also the au where the Tusken massacre is really addressed in this au, in others it didn't happen, obviously in lion!vader it did since it only changes in rots. i don't know if it's really a character study that I'm doing for this au but I'm actually writing an essay on Anakin for my writing class and I'm so using elements from this for that and from that for this.

(please- someone stop me from making Barriss run away from the Jedi and Anakin adopting Barriss after she ends up on Tatooine and Anakin gets over his initial feeling of 'YOU D:<')

14!au. i have no other name for it as of right now.

anakin gets found by Palpatine and Shmi dies (i think) but surely its not you Pal Friendpatine's fault :0

Anyway, Palpatine finds Anakin at like... 5 and adopts him and brings him on his path to becoming chancellor and then the clone wars start at the Naboo blockade, Palpatine started cloning **early**. no, I have no idea how old Jango Fett is, why do you ask? anakin befriends some of the clones and takes an interest in politics because he thinks he can convince then senate to stop creating clones and just recruit normal civilians to the army.

this au is inspired by Hazbin Hotel song 'you didn't know' and some brave group of clones tries to plead their case to the senate, ankin watches in on it, nala se mentions the chips in the kaminoan rebuttal of clone rights and Anakin FREAKS. palpatine tries to calm him saying 'they are to control them, they're dangerous otherwise' and basically dooms himself. also, Anakin specifically has wings. see, I subscribe to the thinking of 'Anakin can shapeshift due to his unstable DNA' Edit: I Found it! @thewildballyntynesgrow or mballyntyne on Ao3 with their series 'A Wild Thing to Tame'. Anakin leaves taking a majority of the coruscant guard with him and goes back to Tatooine and starts freeing a whole bunch of planets over the years. the meeting in the senate takes place when he is fourteen, the empire starts when he is seventeen. Anakin adopts Boba and Galen Marek. anakin and the freed outer rim either hide rebel bases or use their revolutions as distractions for the empire.

Retconned rebel Anakin Au. aka, Barriss is the same age as Anakin and befriends him and Ferus eventually befriends him, and Anakin is closer to those two and some others than Obi-wan and Ahsoka (who is Obi-wan's padawan) Barriss never bombs the temple, the empire rises but the original empire dies like a year into the reign and another emperor rises.... Emperor Obi-wan Kenobi and his daughter Ahsoka how are both overly attached to rebel leader Anakin Skywalker and are both trying to adopt him and turn him to their side... by kidnapping Anakin's family. (rexanidala). anakin adopts so many kids, most of them are force-sensitive and want to fight so he lets them reluctantly but those not young enough to choose or fight are sent to live with Rex, Padme, Luke, Leia, and their grandparents; Dooku and Plo.

Ventress and Anakin Swap au, sort of. anakin got nabbed from his mom by Dooku. Dooku never found Ventress, Obi-wan does instead. Obi does not train Ventress but they are friends forever after. ventress tries forcefully redeeming the seventeen-eighteen year old Sith lord and it only sort of works. he defects but really only after he finds out about the slavery in creating battle droids. Anakin isn't really a separatist general, he just has a specialized group of droids that he rebuilds after fights with Jedi. he never fights clones with droids.

after defecting Anakin plans with Ventress and decides to free the outer rim then take the former slaves that will join him and start up a third party to the war. inspired by 'blood oath' by the art of pleasing princes.

okay so for this next au, named Anakin Umakkar, The rain storm. sources are ADragonsFriend and @fialleril or fialleril on a03, and @clawedandcute or ClawedandCute (Adi_Fire) on a03. and songs this au is inspired by for this au is (and in order) Puppeteer, Done For, Hell is Forever, There are Other Ways, What Did I Miss? and Respectless.

Umakkar was a name I first read about in a book called 'Elder sisters' by ADragonsFriend. I first heard about Ekkreth in Fialleril's books. the concept of Anakin staying on Tatooine was inspired by ClawedandCute's book and au 'The Accidental Sith'

Anyway, Qui-gon and the queen's ship never stops on Tatooine, but the clone wars do not start early. a solid two months into the Clone Wars, it is revealed that Jabba the Hutt has been dead for a year, and Tatooine has freed itself from the huts. Senator Padme Amidala and Jedi Obi-wan Kenobi (and Padawan Ahsoka Tano) are sent to Tatooine to try to get Tatooine to align with the republic. now please listen to Puppeteer and Done For (no, Anakin does not turn any clones into pigs, just like any non-clone serving in the army ). once Obi-wan draws his lightsaber on Anakin, Anakin just swipes it away, unhurt, and has him and other... three (Cody, Padme, and Ahsoka)locked up until he decided to hear them out. (cue hell is forever, the last lines being, "the freed outer rim has found both the separatists and the republic to be the enemy" ya know due to their armies) then when it looks like Anakin is gonna do something to them to send a message to the republic, Obi-wan pleads with him and mentions the Sith Dooku mentioned and any evil smile on Anakin's face slips away into annoyance "Sidious, huh?" and in 'There are other ways' fashion tells obi-wan about Mortis and other wells in the force that might be better for the Jedi to focus at. when asked why he had that reaction to the 'Sidious' character, he implies that Sidious has reached out to him to join either side of the war, like once per side.

he sends Obi-Wan and the Clones that want to return on their way and a year later decides that enough is enough and heads to Coruscant under the pretense of negotiating. palpatine sets up a committee to welcome Tatooine to the republic only for 'respectless' to happen and Anakin starts arguing with Orn Free Taa, then Palpatine himself and once Palpatine leaves, turns to the Jedi in the room and says "yeah, you might want to look into that..." and leaves.

Detached Mortis god au: inspired by the ocean saga

switching up the timeline here, Rako Hardeen happens, the Wrong Jedi arc happens, *Then* mortis happens. Anakin is alone on Mortis, he decides to stay, Padme is pregnant, the empire rises, Padme survives and joins the rebellion, Ahsoka becomes Fulcrum. Obi-wan joins the rebellion to help train Luke and Leia. Luke, Leia, Han, Ezra and some others start on a mission, but it starts off rough. Ezra decides to pray to a Force Diety he or Ahsoka met once and the diety appears and decides to grant them safe passage to the actual start of the mission as long as they keep Ahsoka, who they meet up with later on the mission, safe. if they accept and fail, another god is going to have a really big problem with them. they accept and all goes well until the last day of the mission, everything falls apart and Ahsoka is separated from the group and captured. the gang decides they need to go back to base to think and plan. on their way back their ship is seemingly attacked but they cant tell by what, they crash land at base and get out of the ship, not the falcon, only to meet two dragon-like-creatures, and a portal opens and a very pissed Anakin steps out. he kidnaps a bunch of rebels and puts them in the world between worlds and tells them they only get their people back when Ahsoka is safe. Obi-Wan and Padme only make it to the hangar this goes down once Anakin has stepped back through the portal.

[teethmafia]

Sensitive guys when they see a meme on the tumblr that matches their exact situation.

[trashcora]

ANAKIN SKYWALKER / DARTH VADER AHSOKA | Part 5: Shadow Warrior

[shapelytimber]

Do you think Vader keeps spare faces ?

[PRINT] - [COMMISSIONS]

A shower thought that got away from me...which to be fair is how you could describe a lot of my art-

Process below vvv

I should paint fleshy meat more often I had so much fun with it :))

[void-my-warranty]

Nooner (18+) Part 2

Pairing: Darth Vader (Anakin)/Fem Reader (she/her) Content Warnings: Dub Con, Prostitution, Aphrodisiacs, spanking, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, hand on throat, degradation, hate fucking, squirting, PIV Word Count: 4.4k

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

It has to be the drug.

That’s the only logical reason that you’re going through with this, because you absolutely should be getting out of here, and you’re not even trying. You haven’t even begun to try, at any point in this adventure.

The Perfect Man might as well be a droid for how much you want to fuck him – that is to say, not at all – but he’s hovering over you on the bed, and you’ve got your knees up so he can keep shoving his perfect fingers inside you, and it feels good.

“Yeah? You a little slut for my fingers?” he goads, making you gasp and clench around them — not in desire, but in anger.

You hate that fucker.

He won’t stop saying things like that, and it’s absolutely murdering the vibe. With how wet and achy you are, you probably would have cum by now if he wasn’t so set on being a jerk for no reason. It’s one thing to withhold the hookup with the masked man that you thought you were going to get, but it’s entirely something else to be treated like this by some gorgeous freak of nature. 

The Perfect Man pulls his fingers out to trap your clit between his knuckles, and you swear there isn’t a single emotion behind those eyes. Bland and selfish and uncaring, they bore into you while the drug forces your pussy to respond to his touch. You get wetter and more swollen, and you practically glare up at him, letting him know with your eyes that you don’t like him, not one little bit. 

“You know,” he says, releasing your clit to rub it a little softer with his thumb, “I get paid whether or not you pass.”

“So do I,” you retort, because you’re pretty sure that’s what you’ve been told. 

“Oh, come on.” He tilts his head and slow-blinks at you like you’re being stupid on purpose. “Everyone wants to be in his bed for this cruise. Don’t tell me you don’t know how much it pays to fuck him.”

No, no you don’t.

“Of c-course,” you stutter breathlessly. You’re clenching your cunt and trying not to cum because fuck this guy, even though you can’t seem to tell him to stop, since your body does like this quite a bit.

“Then you know—“ The man winds his hand back and gives your ass a sharp smack that hurts. “...that you’d better cum.”

You lock your jaw shut after the initial gasp of shock, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that spank affected you. He must see it in your eyes a little, though, that flash of humiliation that you couldn’t hide. That beautiful pain in your ass narrows his eyes at you, running his gaze over your clenched fists and braced body.

“You’re supposed to be submissive.”

And he’s supposed to be a scarred man in a mask. 

“Guess I’m not feeling submissive,” you grit back, pushing your knees closer together because you don’t like the way he’s looking at your pussy.

“Too bad.” His fingers wander up between your legs again, making your cunt flutter when he pushes them inside. “You’ll fail the test.”

Okay, that’s actually feeling really good. He’s pushing up nice and tight against your g-spot, and Maker you need to cum. You’ve never been this wet before, so turned on that every bit of your flesh feels alert and flooded with arousal. 

“Yeah,” he purrs, when you surrender and open your knees wide again. “Yeah, you like that, you little slut.”

So, you’ve never broken anyone’s nose before, but you’re sorely tempted now. You could just whip your foot up and crack your shin bone across his face, and it would feel better than any orgasm this slimeball could give you. 

He uses his other hand this time to slap your ass, smirking when you yelp and go tight around his fingers. 

“Aww, what’s the matter? You’re almost there, I can tell. Cum for me. You can do it.”

You won’t. 

Smack. “C’mon.”

No.

Smack. “I know that pretty cunt’s gotta be feeling so uncomfortable, with the juice you took. Let it happen.”

You’re grateful for the spankings. You focus on them, letting the pain distract you each time so you don’t accidentally give him the satisfaction of pleasing you. It’s bad enough that you find yourself whimpering and tightening up for him every time he hits you. It’s bad enough that you’re dripping down his fingers and going hazy with how good each thrust feels.  

You cannot let yourself cum.

The Perfect Man’s eyes flick up to a display you never noticed before, and you’re too upside down and far away to tell what it says. But when he glances back down at you, there’s ugly determination in his face. That’s all the warning you get before he’s wrapping his hand around the front of your throat and pinning you to the bed with it.

“Hey–” you sputter, clasping your hands around his wrist, but all of a sudden your mind whites out with the feeling of a finger rapidly working our clit. 

He’s not choking you, but there’s a definite gleam of competition in his eyes while he smirks down at your startled face. Your eyes widen with a new kind of horror, when you realize he’s going to force you to cum now. You don’t want to cum for him, but the drug is pushing you towards it despite everything, and the hand on your neck makes you forget every other option you have. 

All you’d need to do is snap your knees closed, or kick him, or literally just tell him to stop, but now all of your mental energy is narrowed onto that inescapable stimulation on your swollen clit. He’s apparently hell-bent on making you submit to him, and the fingers around your throat have your brain clicking into that space all on its own. All you can do is whine pitifully up at that disgustingly beautiful stranger, and mentally beg him to stop rubbing your clit like that, beg him to spank you again or deny your release or literally anything but make you cum like this when you don’t want to.

Everything goes tight and hot inside you, and your eyes slide shut so that when you cum, you at least don’t have to be looking at someone you hate. 

But then a twittering couple of beeps sounds from somewhere behind you, and to your shock, The Perfect Man instantly stops moving. His hand unlocks from your neck, and his fingers disappear from your pussy.

He sighs, wiping his fingers off on your stomach as if he’s bored now. “Time’s up. Too bad for you.”

Wait, you did it?

You failed the test. 

You lay there panting and weak and dripping your arousal onto the bed, and somehow you talked yourself into not cumming, and that means you failed the test. 

“I’ll have your clothes sent in.”

That… that means… this was all for nothing. 

You watch that chiseled torso turn and disappear out the door – notably with no tent in his pants – and straighten your legs back out because you didn’t cum, and that means it was all for nothing. This entire excursion was just a chance for you to get called a slut and fingered by the prettiest person you’ve ever seen, and then not even cum.

You still need it, so, so bad.

You find yourself thinking about it, as you sit up in the empty room. Picturing the orgasm you were supposed to have, with that masked guy. The voice you were supposed to have talking you through it, maybe even telling you nice things about your body or performance. It’s not fair that you didn’t get it. You went through the wringer just now, and you deserve that orgasm. 

Automatically your head turns to the door the masked man left through, and before you know it, you’re following your impulses again. It’s your pussy guiding you now instead of your loneliness, but you listen. You put your hand on the controls and somehow find it completely unlocked, swooshing open for you and revealing a dim room.

There isn’t a single display visible here. No glowing lights of electronic panels, no clocks, no buttons or switches to speak of. It’s a plain, rustic sort of bedroom, with one large bed low to the ground, a wide chair, and a large window looking out into empty space beyond. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

You don’t jump at the sound of his modulated voice, you barely even twitch. It’s like your body was just expecting it, prepared for the difference in timbre from the too-beautiful man before. 

“I know,” you admit, turning your head to find him as just a shadow in the corner. “I just — I failed the test.”

“Disappointing,” he muses, taking a step towards the middle of the room, where there’s more light to see him. “You may have a higher tolerance for Jucinthe than most.”

Your tolerance is just fine, judging by the way your cunt is grinding into itself and your arousal is currently dripping down your left thigh. But you don’t want to insult him or his stupid, unnecessary drug.

The masked man does that thing again, where he appears suddenly right in front of you, and this time it feels good. It feels like he’s supposed to be this close to your body, like it makes sense that he’d come here to talk to you and touch you. 

But that’s the thing, you’re not certain he will. You feel like he’s a second away from escorting your naked ass out of here, and you can’t let that happen.

“Give me another hit,” you rush, pussy throbbing unbearably. “I— I can perform.”

The man doesn’t even blink, just goes absolutely motionless and stares down at you. Then he turns his head, takes a few steps to the side to find a drawer, and returns with another dose. 

You don’t complain when you feel that pinch in your arm again. You’ve got your eyes locked into his face, without an ounce of uncertainty existing in your body this time. You’re too horny to be shy. You got past all that with his ridiculous test, and now it’s just time to fuck who you came here to fuck.

Only, the man drops your arm, and then takes a seat on the lone chair, and just watches you without a word.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” You ask desperately, trying not to touch yourself like a pervert.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” You’re getting upset now, raising your voice and turning your head to glance at the perfectly serviceable bed right over there. “Why would you inject me again if you weren’t going to fuck me?”

There’s a bit of a smile in his voice, somehow. “You demanded it.”

Oh, Maker, this is bad. This is the worst, this is— and your pussy— And there’s nothing you can— 

“Please.” It comes out in a little whimper, as you stand there and flex your thighs together, rubbing at the sting in your arm. 

“You think I want someone who needs two doses of Jucinthe to fuck me?”

“I didn’t even need one dose, asshole.” 

Shit. 

You clap your hand to your mouth in shock, uncomprehending how you just heard those words come out of you, in your own voice. They just poured out before you could stop it, with how overworked your nerves are right now, and that weird, fuzzy feeling in your brain when you’re around him.

There’s such a heavy silence then, it makes you want to die. Maybe taking two doses and then not getting to cum will kill you, actually. It’s not like you know anything about that drug.

“Do you know who I am?” The man finally asks, getting to his feet. 

“Uhh…” your eyes track over him frantically, searching for clues. “A… m-mayor… of some… war zone?”

That makes him laugh, for some reason. He turns his face away and barks into his mask, his shoulders shaking a little with it. 

And with how robotic his voice sounds through the mask, you absolutely cannot tell if it’s a happy laugh, or an I’m-about-to-kill-you chuckle.

“Go lay down,” he finally says, inclining his head towards the bed. “You’re a terrible prostitute.”

But he’s shrugging off his outer clothes, and that means you won. 

With mortifying eagerness, you race to the bed and sprawl out on it, soaking in the sensation of cool satin under your flushed skin. It’s like every possible nerve in your body is awake and getting feedback from even the air surrounding you. Your pulse is a discernible throb in your clit, and you swear your nipples feel good just for existing right now, contracted tight as if they’re being touched. 

You only exist to be fucked right now. That’s what your body’s for, soft and dripping and swollen for it. That’s what your mind is for, blank and stupid and uncaring of how you’re handled now. You don’t care at all, when it’s him.

You’re watching your masked man without realizing it, as he removes the last of his clothes. Your head is turned and your eyes are lingering on the lean muscle, the fine-tuned physique that doesn’t typically exist in the occupation of mayor. He looks like a fighter more than anything, with so many scars and large areas of grafted skin, you can’t even comprehend how badly he was hurt.

It’s not until he approaches that you wrench your gaze back up to his face, and away from the definite hardness between his legs. Your brain goes fuzzy again when he wraps his hands under your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed. 

“Why did you fail the test?” He asks quietly, running the underside of his shaft forward and back through your messy folds.

“Um—“ Your eyes flick back and forth between his face and your disgustingly needy pussy, mesmerized by the sensation of getting pushed towards an orgasm just from that minuscule contact on your clit. “I wasn’t attracted to him.”

“Really?” He stops moving to frown down at you. “What do you require, the Maker himself?”

“N-no, I—“ your words cut off to a whine, when you feel him slipping lower, teasing the head of his cock slightly into your pussy. 

You’re gonna cum. The instant he pushed that into you, you’re just going to start cumming on it. The realization has your toes curling and tears springing to your eyes, as you helplessly lay there and wait for relief.

“Tell me,” he prompts, wrapping his hand around the back of your thigh to push your knee up and out. 

That stupid fuzz infiltrates your mind again, and all you can do is confess in a rush, “I like s-scars. And— hnnggh— masks— and scary blue eyes.”

You don’t even really register that he’s penetrated you, you just know that you’re cumming. Your head flexes back and you gasp and pant and practically yell it into the quiet room, while your cunt spasms so hard it almost hurts. 

“Stars,” the man mutters, thrusting carefully, just enough to prolong your perfect agony. “Scary blue eyes. You really are the worst prostitute.”

“I’m not a prostitute.” It comes out before you can stop it, and by the time you’ve clamped both hands over your mouth, the damage is already done. 

The masked man goes motionless above you again. He ignores your damp, pleading eyes to grab your wrists and pry them away from your face, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head.

“What did you say?” he practically purrs, boring those scary blues into your soul until you can’t even stand it. 

There must be some kind of truth serum in that aphrodisiac, because even though you’re lifting your hips in an unconscious bid for more fucking, it’s literally impossible to shut yourself up.  

“I’m just some nobody on the cruise,” you babble. “I accidentally wandered in here, and I have no idea what happened to the prostitute you hired, and I only wanted to fuck you, and—“

He cuts you off with a firm roll of his hips, making your fingers curl themselves in pleasure above each of his fists. “And?” He prompts again.

“I’m going to cum again,” you admit in a small voice, just as the orgasm starts licking through your pelvis. 

It’s not fair. He’s making you blab, and cum, and there’s nothing you can do because he’s still holding you down, and you like it. You accept that crackling fire in your bloodstream, enjoying the way it’s a little sharper than the first time you came, pushing you a little more out of control with each wet spasm.

When you return to your senses again, he’s released your wrists and pulled out. You have a split second moment of panic that he’s going to leave you now, but he just tucks his hand under your lower back and tosses you to the middle of the bed, like it’s nothing. 

Your legs are shaking and weak, but you still hold them open for him when he settles himself over you. You still gasp and flutter around his cock when he gives it to you deep and hard, and to your absolute shock you just start cumming again. 

There’s a muttered curse above you, and you can’t tell if he’s mad at what your body is doing, or intrigued, but it humiliates you all the same.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp between breaths, once your head clears, “I didn’t mean to cum.”

The man sighs, and pulls almost all the way out of you, glancing down your naked bodies to see all those sticky lines of your arousal connecting to your skin. “You’ve made a mess on me.”

“Sorry,” you whisper again.

“Hmmm.” His eyes wander back up to your face, your sweaty hair sticking to your neck, and whatever fucked-out expression you have on. And then you feel his thumb sliding over your clit, beginning to rub a relentless circle there while he begins to fuck you in earnest. 

“W-wait—“ you whimper, shoving your hands down your stomach, but stopping there because it suddenly feels too good to pull his hand away. 

“It’s okay,” he tells you, as if he can pick up on the conflict in your mind. “No one else knows, it’s alright.”

Your stomach tightens with something unfamiliar and vicious, and you feel an actual tear slide into your hair with the way your eyes are watering all on their own. Your knees tremble on either side of him, while he tilts his head to watch the emotions flash across your face. 

But whatever he sees melts away into absolute pleasure, as your eyes roll back with that thunder clap of an orgasm. It feels good at first, and then it hurts, and then—

You’re squirting. All over him. You can hear it, and you can feel it, alongside a fresh wave of sensation you can’t escape. You can’t escape it, because he won’t stop rubbing your clit and fucking you, even when it turns into raw overstimulation.

“I’m sorry,” you wail, “Oh, m-maker, I’m so sorry— fuck.” Your voice trails off into an overwhelmed whine, and your knees clamp into his hips.

And then you squirt again. 

You’re not even sure if you’re cumming this time. You’re not sure that it matters. He’s not trying to make you cum, he’s trying to make you humiliate yourself in every way he can come up with. 

He’s breathing hard, when you’re finally able to blink the water out of your eyes and focus on his face again. “What the fuck,” he mutters to himself, running his hand down your damp body. “What the fuck.”

You’re too exhausted to process anything new. All you can do is let him keep rolling his hips into you, and just be grateful he’s leaving your clit alone. Both of your lower bodies are wet with what just happened. The bed is wet. There’s an obvious sound of something slick and slutty getting fucked, and there’s nothing you can do but tilt your pelvis up to get him a little deeper, and try not to be embarrassed by it. 

“I like you,” he says, for some reason, resting his eyes on your face. “I really like you.”

And that has a completely different sort of warmth expanding inside you, filling your lungs with something soft and pink. 

You’re doing a good job, and he likes you. 

“Thanks,” you say stupidly. “I like you too.”

He exhales heavily, bringing his forearms down to frame your shoulders, and smoothing his hand over your hair. “You gonna cum again?”

“I’ll try not to,” you offer.

“Don’t need to do that. We’re going to go slow now, okay? If you need to cum, just let it happen.”

You blink stupidly up at him and whisper, “Thank you, sir.”

“Mmmph.” You can feel his cock jump a little inside you. “Do not call me that.”

“Sorry.” You’re starting to not be able to tell when you’re about to cum. You’re quite afraid it’s just going to slam into you out of nowhere, so you close your eyes to try to concentrate on what you’re feeling. 

A thumb swipes that little trail of wetness on your temple, stroking it into your hairline. “Oh, you are so pretty.”

You gasp out a startled cry, your face screwing up as you begin to cum again. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He slow-fucks you through it, grinding in deep to make your toes curl at the pleasure-pain in your cervix. “You’re doing so good. There you go. Aww, there you go.”

You just start convulsing around him again because he won’t stop bullying himself against your cervix. Your eyes spring open with a fresh wall of water blocking your vision, panting through the aching shockwaves. 

Finally your gaze focuses on his face, blinking the tears away and just staring up at him like he’s some force-blessed entity you never knew existed. 

“Do you have one more for me?” he asks, dragging his thumb alone the line of your jaw. 

“No,” you lie.

“Yeah, you do. Come on, you’ll feel better. Just one more.”

You shake your head slightly, fighting your body, even though you know he’s right. You really do need to cum all of that stuff out of your system, but you feel so vulnerable right now. You feel like you want to kiss, but he’s got that metal thing on, so all you can do is blink at him and focus on every place where your bodies are connected. 

Your clit keeps getting smushed with every drop of his hips, and even though you feel like the next orgasm is going to flatten you, it’s coming whether you like it or not. He’s being relentless with his thrusts, and it’s starting to feel warm and gooey between your legs again. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, finding his fingers with yours, and stroking them gently. 

His eyes lower to watch that touch you’re doing, but you soon lose track of them when your tired pussy begins to pulse again, and a little dribble of liquid comes out of you, onto the bed below. 

“Good girl. That’s going to feel better, isn’t it?”

Fuck, it won’t stop. That orgasm clings to you, raking through your pelvis and continuing to ruin the sheets every time he bumps your clit. 

“Please,” is all you can manage to communicate, clamping your hand into his wrist and tilting your hips up for something deeper.

So he gives it to you. He shoves his elbows higher on the bed and fucks you hard. Makes stars explode in your vision while he grunts and gasps his release into your body. 

It’s over. Finally, you’re finished.

He seems to have some trouble meeting your eyes after that. You both do, if you’re being honest. You catch your breath while he climbs off you, because between Quorl and what just happened, you’re practically disabled in the leg department. You just stay there, sweaty and twitching, while he efficiently puts his clothes back on. 

“Stay there,” he orders, accessing a door you didn’t notice before. 

And then he’s gone.

And the fucking weight of what you just did settles like a stone in your gut.

You spring to action, stumbling to the other door you came through, and you practically sob in relief to see your clothes folded there on the small couch. You don’t even bother putting shoes on, just throw the necessary things haphazardly on your body, and then roll the rest into a ball and tuck it under your arm. 

The entry room is empty, when you peek your head in. There’s no sign of that hateful pretty guy, or the droid, so you just take your opportunity for what it is, and book it.

You race through the rich people hallway and back to the transport belts, and then there’s this euphoric rush of relief when you wedge yourself in with all the other unimportant life forms. 

You did it.

_________________________

“How was your nooner?” Your friend asks brightly, turning all the lights on as she walks through the room.

Groaning, you toss your arm over your eyes and try to bury yourself farther in blankets. Exhausted, you had just managed to fall asleep when she came back. 

“It was fine,” you grumble, blinking and squinting at her. “Did you win?”

“Seventy-third place,” she gripes. “I think they were cheating.”

“Well, that’s Quorl. You lose some, you lose some.”

“Ha-ha,” she returns, planting her ass on your bed and ruffling your hair. “You definitely won’t win if you never try.”

“Yeah, but it’s a lot safer that way.”

There’ll be a lot fewer warlord beds you find yourself in, when you stick to your normal life and never try anything new, ever again. 

Now you just have to never show your face on this ship, and stay anonymous, and forget the afternoon ever happened. You can do that, you’re good at staying hidden. You’re nobody, remember?

Except, you can’t be late.

That’s the only thing, you can’t let yourself be late again.

[avianssphere]

now it’s time to get out of the desert and into the sun / even if it’s alone

[shibara]

Finished commission for @ozarlu-seda (PickledGuava on AO3), of their fic Looking For A Better Tomorrow

It was pretty fantastic to be asked to represent in an image not only the moment when a character reaches an emotional breakdown, but also why, and where it all came from.

It took quite some time and it's probably some of the most complex work I've ever made, so I'm happy and proud to finally show it to the world :D

[CW: blood, though not gore, it's more the metaphorical kind]

[hanasnx]

❝ hosanna. ❞

── darth vader x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 1.3k SUMMARY: you live to serve your sith lord. NOTES: as a former christian child, this song speaks to me on a level i cant explain. it is not a testament to my current religious standpoint, this is not pro or anti anything. merely a song analysis format in the perspective of a darth vader smut writer. "hosanna" by hillsong united. @xstarkillerx heavily influenced this fic. WARNINGS: heavy religious themes | sexual content | coitus | unprotected sex | virginity loss | objectification | worship | size difference | mentioned: blood, suicide.

Heal my heart and make it clean.

“Please, my lord.” your desperate croak echoes against the floor as you press your forehead to the stone in your kneel. You beg not for traditional mercy, but rightful extinction. To bask in the company of the Sith Lord DARTH VADER can only mean one thing. Finally, your mistake will be remedied. You’ll be scorched from the face of this planet by his righteous fire, fit to continue your spiritual journey with the help of his guided and generous hand. When it raises to clench around your neck, to squeeze the life from you, your soul will escape your wretched and human body.

Open up my eyes to the things unseen.

Sights you cannot fathom, planes you cannot reach, heavens you are unallowed to cross all become possible in the benevolence of his presence. A great exhilaration, the cathartic rush you’ve been bound to chasing your entire lifespan is at your fingertips. They prickle in anticipation, driving you to near tears over the discovery of divinity. To be at his feet overwhelms you, and you’re wracked with sobs. The pilgrimage you’ve been tasked with is at its end. Darth Vader stands before you, and you cannot bring yourself to utter another word in fear.

Show me how to love like You have loved me.

You’re brought to stand. His hand cups your chin, and you burn from his touch. By his grip, he raises your gaze, and you scan the ample length of his imposing form. Cloaked in black, shrouded in terrifying mystery, your weeping is quieted in the presence of his glory. The image of his expressionless mask in front of you runs your blood cold. You’ve seen his likeness etched into your planet’s culture, yet that awe is incomparable to the one that roars through your veins now. Legends depict his dark figure as a hunter. An insatiable pursuant that stops at nothing until the galaxy is cleansed. His abysmal love for all things is shown through his relentless protection of it. With a step, he shakes the very crust of the terrain he walks upon; with a wave of his mighty hand, corrupt civilizations fall and armies stab themselves so as not to face him; under his leadership, his empire thrives and spreads to the untouched and the perverted in his name. Dry mouth struggles to swallow as he remains silent, doubtlessly counting your sins as he scrutinizes you. You always knew you were to be judged, and here it is. Yet, you’re stupefied. His thumb against you does not feel like you thought it would, pinching your skin coldly.

Break my heart for what breaks Yours.

“Do I displease you?” you whisper. A single tear breaks from your eye in your tremble, grazing your cheek as it falls. A knuckle comes to dab at the moisture, and you flinch. His encasing is to hide his unseeable majesty from the galaxy. It is said a single look upon his true self will devour you whole, tearing you to shreds where you stand, and blaze your eyes from their sockets. If you survive the encounter, you’ll live out the rest of your blackened life consumed by his image as the last thing you saw, in blind search of it through endless deserts. Already you condemn yourself, cursing your own household for its transgressions against him and his vision, your appearance is unsatisfactory, your soul has been dipped in gold to weigh down the scales. You’ve been too prideful, vain, greedy. How could you have ever hoped to be here with him when you’re a demon in skin? He senses it, he must. You will atone.

Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause.

There is nothing you won’t do in his name. There is nothing that will keep you from him. Your boundless devotion towards the Sith Lord cannot be bought, cannot be measured. You are his vessel, a path to reach others, your eyes are his eyes. Can he see himself through you? If he, a being of endless power, were to attempt to inhabit your body, would you combust into ashes under his boot? Still, you try. Storms bend to his will, mountains bow by his word. What could you offer to him that is not within his scope? “Anything.” you plea through a broken voice, your hands hooking into your outerwear to pull it off your shoulders. His hand releases your jaw, and you step back for any offense you may have caused. Since his command suspends, you continue. Your straps are tugged down, and your knees buckle, dropping to the ground. Desperately, lovingly, you bare yourself to him, you crawl to his feet in worship.

As I walk from earth into eternity.

There’s nothing you don’t give him throughout the night. Anything you can comprehend is surrendered to him. You’re afraid. While he’s inside you, you’re afraid. Rooted deep, sheathed inside your purity, touching sacred parts of you that has never been offered to anyone else. You’re afraid of him. He’s said nothing, exhalting himself using you as you’ve invited him to, but in your eyes he’d need not ask. You are his. Large hands grasp your torso, bunching up the fabrics of your clothes, ripping seams more and more with each thrust. The pain of consummation is one you thank him for with lachrymal essence dripping down the corners of your eyes, wetting your hairline. The sins of the flesh are a stranger to you, until he breaks your virginity, fucking you through the blood. So as not to surprise him, you swallow your cry with a palm over your lips. Disillusioned with your surroundings, focused on the heat where your bodies meet, you notice how he’s changed his pace. A gentler angle to his hips as he caresses your insides with his member. Regardless of its stiffness, the velvety outer layer is sweet against your walls. True rapture introduces itself to you, growing in pleasure with each stroke. His cape veils your nakedness to the outside world, shielding you as he presses you to him in a surprising demonstration of humanity. Symbolically, your forehead kisses the crest of his headpiece, a stark contrast from the stone you’d bowed on, he is showing you forgiveness. Humility. He is grateful. The sensation of being filled by him becomes not only bearable, but welcome. Your wails are no longer wracked with the despair of ache, but of staggering passion. Newfound life flows through you, rejuvenating you, manifesting in the beads of sweat on your brow, and the tears of thankfulness as they stream from your blurring gaze. On the edge of your peak, you take pride. He wants you. He wants you. He wants you.

Hosanna, Hosanna.

You can’t see yourself, but you’re outside your body. The warmth of existence embraces you, curling around you like smoke. There’s nothing but comfort here. Nothing but a stretch of unconditional love and acceptance. Finally, finally you’re here. You’ve reached your heavens. You can feel it all around you. It is the light. It is eternity. It is. It is. It is.

You are. You are. You are.

As you open your eyes, the fleeting feeling dissipates. The prickle softens, your breathing evens out, the white hot sensation of your orgasm passes over you. No. No. No. It was right there, it was in your hands. You’re alerted as he pulls from you, the wet sounds of your joint pleasures spill from your spasming entrance, pouring down your body that still remains. Your body that drew your soul back in from salvation. Darth Vader does not realize he’d given you a taste of the Force in his ecstasy, entwining your souls to see through each other’s eyes for one honored moment. Nor does he foresee the future of you begging for him over and over again, just for a mere taste of it at your climax.

[thechaoticfanartist]

they're both dead - grim kennet & darth vader

as long as there's light - @thechaoticfanartist | a broken family - @thechaoticfanartist | ghosts - @thechaoticfanartist | ivan the terrible and his son ivan - ilya repin | post by @thechaoticfanartist | star wars: rebels 02×21 twilight of the apprentice (part 2) | youth - daughter | tags via @jedi-valjean | the same vine - @thechaoticfanartist | post by @sawasawako-archived | post by @thechaoticfanartist | her brother - @thechaoticfanartist | rogue one: a star wars story (2016) | argument with a ghost - @thechaoticfanartist

[currentlyonstandbi]

i am never going to mentally, spiritually or emotionally recover from the way they flashed between anakin and vader during the force dream and memories because it was like! yes ! exactly! you cannot have one without the other! just because anakin made the right choice in the end by saving luke and killing the emperor (and sacrificing himself in the process) it doesn't mean he ever stopped being vader ! it was a decision made in selfish love that started it all and it was a decision made in selfish love that ended it all. the parts of anakin that make him vader are the parts of him that make him anakin !!!!

[thewistlingbadger]

ANAKIN must have spent so much time into finding out what happened to Ashoka. That little epilogue scene, how long after was that? Was it one of the first things he did? Did he forget about her? Why was he looking for her? Did he miss her and want her back, or did he think she'd be a threat? Or perhaps he was tasked with finding her

[oonaluna-art]

Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

A few months back, I made this piece as a cover art for my fan fic, Our New Hope. I was proud of the work, and then I was left with a bit of a conundrum. I wasn't sure if I should share the original piece. I decided to go with the censored one, as that seemed like the safer option.

—

[My Ko-Fi] [Patreon]

[shapelytimber]

More sw sapphic au shitty little comics nxkdk and like last time you get one angsty and one silly :)

Darthfett, many years after the fall of the empire

And the hanleia one is specifically french lesbianism- sometimes I can't escape who I am

[COMMISSION]

Leia was so ready to date a butch weed dealer

This is my best shot at translating the idiom- does english have little sayings that are about being gay and smoking ? Or is it just a french thing... Because we have more than one that's for sure jfjfk

PS : link to a post explaining why Anakin uses she/her and Vader he/him in my au

[fundraising-with-audiobooks]

This is @dyspunktional-leviathan, and this is a new project for helping to fundraise for Gaza, Sudan, Congo, Tigray, possibly more in future. Send me proof of your donations, and I will make audiobooks.

If anyone wants to join the project, you're incredibly welcome! Please message this blog for that.

My current plan is $30 per chapter, but I am not familiar with that currency and this is my first time making audiobooks too, so that might change.

Example recording — Canticle of the Dragon, the first prologue of Dragons of Autumn Twilight (CW for mentions of war, mass death and displacement, gods turning against their subjects):

The further recordings will be posted on AO3, with links on this blog. This chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58599967/chapters/149305654

For every $30 of donations for vetted Gaza evacuation fundraisers (get them here: @vetted-gaza-funds), I will record a chapter of Dragonlance, starting with Dragons of Autumn Twilight and going in release order.

For every $30 of donations for Crips4Esims4Gaza (https://chuffed.org/project/crips-for-esims-for-gaza), I will record a chapter of The Locked Tomb, starting with Gideon the Ninth.

For every $30 of donations for the Mutual Aim campaign (https://www.tumblr.com/ana-bananya/753577456030679040/here-is-an-update-on-the-mutual-aim-campaign-for) that fundraises for the charities helping Sudan, Congo and Tigray, I will record a chapter of Fialleril's Double Agent Vader (https://archiveofourown.org/series/286908).

If/when I'm done with one of these, I will choose a new thing to audiobook for each branch of the project.

@ficsforgaza could I get a promo?

[comic-art-showcase]

Darth Vader by Paul Pope

[jewishcissiekj]

Do you guys ever think about how they never stood a chance:) How their stories were doomed from the start:) How their lives were orchestrated and put together by a person who manipulated them all the time:) How their fall was inevitable and planned:) How Asajj was probably some sort of a test on Dooku's and Sidious's parts to see a Jedi fall to the Dark Side:) How they foil each other so well because Asajj had nothing when she fell and Anakin almost had everything:) I do like all the time it's pretty miserable

Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones | Star Wars: Republic #60 | Star Wars: Clone Wars (idk the specific chapters for these) | Rogue One: A Star Wars Story | Star Wars: Obsession #5 | Star Wars: Episode III -Revenge of the Sith