#jedi mind trick moment

[toastbite]

wild how time moves on

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

This.

This is the moment Din finally realizes Grogu is ready to be taught the Way of the Mandalore.

When the Armorer first told Din the foundling was officially in his care, the following exchange took place:

Din: "You wish me to train this thing?"

Armorer: "It is too weak. It would die."

So Din continues on as he had before, protecting Grogu as he spends months searching for a Jedi to train the kid. We see Grogu closing his pram as if it's become standard operating procedure the moment he notices Din gearing up for a fight, and Din makes it a point to keep Grogu close because that's still the best way to ensure the child's safety while Din takes the brunt of the danger and runs into the line of fire.

After meeting Ahsoka, Din does acknowledge that Grogu is "too powerful" (after all, he has seen the kid do things like heal Greef and float a Mudhorn and hold back a flamethrower), and that he, Din, would be unable to train him in the ways of the Force, so he tells Grogu on more than one occasion to go with the Jedi if they find one.

Still, despite how awe-inducing and inexplicable this power is, all Din has ever seen of the Force when Grogu uses it in any significant capacity is that it's a one-shot trick that knocks the kid out cold. (Actually, Grogu ends up being most vulnerable after using the Force and therefore still requires protection even when he does use his "powers.")

Then, while Luke Skywalker definitely gives an impressive display of the potential power of the Force, the last Din sees of Grogu before a months-long separation is Grogu being withdrawn and quiet after having been held captive by Gideon, certainly in no frame of mind to use his powers.

And then suddenly Grogu shows up while Din is smack dab in the middle of a battle against the Pyke syndicate.

Din, of course, still has no idea what Grogu has been taught, so he defaults to protecting Grogu the way he always has: he asks Peli to look after him while Din takes on a battle droid, specifically telling Grogu "Don't move, let me handle this."

But Grogu is more confident now, and he saves Din from the scorpenek droid even while staying out of the way himself. However, it isn't until Grogu calmly confronts a rampaging Rancor and puts it to sleep that Din is visibly stunned (even with the helmet on) and seems to realize - hey, the kid really has learned a lot from the Jedi training, maybe he is strong enough now to be trained in the Way of the Mandalore.

And we see this to be the case in season 3. Din will still protect Grogu with his life, but he will go a step farther and start teaching Grogu -in the Mandalorian way - how to protect himself too.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Between the Chani post and the Gom Jabbar post I am having more Voice-control thoughts because like. It's clear that the Villeneuve version of the Voice is not just, you're being physically puppeted around by someone else while you're fully aware of what's happening. It's an altered state of consciousness the subjective experience of which seems much closer to being blackout drunk or drugged.

(In the book the Voice is a much more subtle form of suggestion, more in the Jedi Mind Tricks vein of things. But it makes a lot of sense on film to translate it as direct physical control, which is how both Lynch Dune and Villledune do it.)

So maybe if it's a few seconds of control you experience it like a blackout. You can see this in the way Paul reacts to Mohiam using the Voice and the way that experience is visually represented. He is by the door and then he's across the room on his knees and he has a moment of confusion where it seems like he doesn't know how he got there. He is familiar enough with the Voice to realize that's what just happened but for someone who doesn't know what this power is, you can imagine how confusing and disorienting that would be.

And maybe if it's a longer period of control you start to experience it more like Feyd's encounter with Lady Margot, where it seems like he is slipping in and out of being fully coherent, sometimes seeming like he is in full control of his faculties and other times winding up in a hallway he doesn't recognize without being able to remember how he got there. This scene is also shot and sound-mixed to disorient the viewer and give us some of that subjective experience of being in an altered state.

Chani's Voice encounter is somewhere in between these two in terms of duration and we don't get a lot of subjective information about how she may be experiencing it, but I think it's certainly possible that like...she knows she is somehow responsible for Paul waking up but she can't actually remember what she did, or she has some vague half-conscious memories of not being in control of her actions while it was happening, or she does not remember it at all and has to get someone who was there to tell her what happened, and she only finds out what she did by hearing someone describe this horrifying violation as a miracle.

And we are purely in headcanon territory now but I imagine that even if you can't remember what happened while you were being Voice-controlled, your nervous system would still be like HEY WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT and send you into fight-or-flight mode, so you would have this very visceral feeling that something is Wrong in your body without understanding what or why.

Anyway many new levels of horror to contemplate.

[echoisbabe]

Tear in my heart

I had this idea from that scene from Black panther and this was born from that.

I think TW, for death? However! I hope that everyone that reads enjoys! My request are open

<also ooc Wolffe????>

He stands before you, blaster raised. Your hands are raised, eyes never leaving the familiar helmet of Wolffe.

“Wolffe” his name leaves your lips in a plea, his grip loosens on his blaster

For once you are not happy to see him, your heart beats faster as he steps towards you. You don’t know what to do, turn and run? He’d shot you in the back that you are sure of.

“You are a traitor” his grip tightens on his blaster

“You would kill me, my love?” His grip falters again, he steps towards you once more

You wonder if he remembers it all, if someone where in his mind the thought of you lingers.

“For the empire” he states as he squares his shoulders, a second blaster now in his free hand “Without question”

Horror flashes across your face as you take a step back. What can you do now? You had promised never to use the Jedi mind trick on him, promised not to use the force on him. You know times are different however you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Do you remember?” You ask, raising a hand and he flinches subtly, you take a step forward “what we shared? Does that mean nothing now?”

It hangs in the air, he’s holstering one blaster. He closes the distance between you and him. His helmeted forehead meets yours. He’s breathing deeply, his arm wraps around you. He pulls you closer, and you allow him to give you this.

“Let me go, Wolffe” you whisper “don’t let my blood be on your hands” you reach up, hands hesitantly taking hold of his helmet

“I-I have my orders, Cyar’ika” he moves away, so as not to let you lift his helmet “there won’t be any pain, if I do it, I promise”

You wrap your arms around him, tears finally falling freely from your eyes. Your heart is breaking with each passing second, clinging to him but also wanting to run. You had spent months running from this moment. Spent months missing this feeling that’s slipping through your fingers.

“Please” you try again, hoping for a different answer “just let me go” your pulling away from him, and he lets you pull from his arms but doesn’t allow any more distance to separate you

In the distance you hear his men, voices that you don’t recognize. It’s now or never, breaking this promise would sting but it must be done. You raise your hand with the words stuck on your tongue.

“Commander!” A voice shouts, Wolffe turns as your eyes widen, the blaster bolt has been shot and there is nothing to be done, if you pull your hand from him now it would be him that is hit, so you shove him and the blaster hits you square in the chest.

You hear your name screamed out like a banshee. Your knees go weak and you stumble, you want to catch yourself but your muscles fail you and you are falling.

Wolffe had never moved faster, he had caught you just before you hit the ground. His helmet had fallen off and you see his face, a smile graces your lips, your mouth moving as if you’re trying to formulate words that won’t come. He cups your face, shaking his head trying to fight the sudden rush of tears that threatens to spill from his eyes.

“Cyar’ika, I’m here” he whispers, he moves the hair from your face “I’m here” he whispers and your smile grows wider, he takes your hand, pressing it to his cheek “Wo- Wolffe, I-I lo-“ your last breath leaves and your body goes limp in his arms “Wait, no, no”

Wolffe reaches for his blaster, turning it on the man and doesn’t think twice, the blaster hits the man and he drops. He turns back to you, he pulls you closer as his forehead comes to rest on yours and he weeps.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Torn by the Dark

Part 1

Summary: Captured by the Empire, you’re brought before Darth Vader. Standing defiant, you sense a familiar presence in him. And as he tries to bury his past, the walls around him begin to crumble.

WC: 2 K.

A/N: This is an unburnt Vader/Anakin AU.

You can read part 2 here. Fictober Challenge

After the fall of the Jedi, you had gone into hiding on Jedha, adopting an alias. Over time, you forged a rebel cell, one that had become a thorn in the Empire’s side. But, your base was discovered, and although you managed to evacuate your people, you couldn’t save yourself.

Captured by stormtroopers, you were brought before the Emperor’s enforcer: Darth Vader.

You had prepared yourself for death the moment you were seized. But as you were forced to your knees in front of the Dark Lord, something strange stirred in your senses. A presence- familiar, but elusive. You couldn’t quite place it.

Vader stood before you, silent, as if contemplating something beyond mere interrogation. His black mask obscured his features, but you could feel his intense gaze studying you. 

He signaled to the nearby troopers. “Leave us.” His deep, mechanical voice cut through the room, cold and commanding. The troopers complied, leaving you alone with him.

He took a few steps toward you, his heavy boots thudding against the metal floor. “So, you are the rebel leader we’ve been looking for-” His voice was measured, but something lurked beneath it- curiosity? Recognition?

“You won’t get a word from me” you snapped, your chin lifting in defiance.

He tilted his head slightly, as though amused. Your defiance. It’s familiar, he thought. He was used to resistance, used to prisoners refusing to cooperate.

“Is that so?” His tone dropped, venomous. “You underestimate me, rebel. I have methods you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“Try all you want,” you shot back, eyes blazing. “I’d rather than betray the cause.” 

For a moment, he stood still, and you almost thought you heard a faint chuckle beneath his mask. You hadn’t changed, not really, he thought. His voice softened, but the danger remained palpable. 

“You are brave, I’ll give you that. But bravery won’t do you any good here.” He stepped closer, looming over you. “You think you can defy me? Resist my power?” His voice dripped with mockery. “You’d be a fool.”

“Go ahead,” you said, though a chill ran down your spine. “Do your worst.”

“You have spirit,” he acknowledged, his words betraying a tinge of something softer. He began pacing slowly around you, measuring you like a predator sizing up its prey. “But spirit alone won’t save you. You’ll break eventually. They all do.”

He stopped in front of you, gloved fingers lifting your chin with deliberate care. He could sense your fear- not overwhelming, but enough to remind him of the control he held. Though your fear wasn’t of him, it was of him prying out something vital. “You will tell me what I want to know. One way or another.” He knew your spirit would not break easily; you would put up a fight. But he also knew that if he used the full extent of his power and resources, it would either force you to talk or kill you. And he didn’t want to risk the latter.

Your heart pounded, but you held his gaze. “Your mind tricks won’t work on me, Lord Vader” you spat, your voice hardening.

His grip tightened for a brief moment before he released you, stepping back. His head tilted once again, as if trying to unravel something about you. He knew he could utilize your fear against you, but he couldn’t bring himself to use the same brutal techniques he’d used on others. Not  that it would work on you. The thought of hurting you twisted something inside him.

He turned away, trying to gather his thoughts. He needed something else, something subtle.

“Tell me, rebel,” he began, his voice probing, almost calculated. “Do you have anyone to care for? Family? Friends?” His voice lowered, something sharp cutting through his words.  “A lover, perhaps?” He winced internally at the last words. Why did he ask that? The idea bothered him more than it should have. He shouldn’t care. But deep inside, he did.

“No,” you said, your voice tinged with hatred. “You killed them all.”

The words cut through him. Though his voice remained cold and emotionless, deep down, they stung. He could sense your pain and anger at him- at what he’d become. 

“So, you truly are alone,” he murmured, trying to regain control of the conversation. “No one left to care for, no one to care about you?” 

Ah, so that’s what he was going for. He wanted to make you feel vulnerable, exposed. But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “I’m not alone. There are others like me. And eventually, we’ll win, even if it takes a hundred years. The light always wins.”

He scoffed, the sound coming out as a low mechanical rumble. He was irritated by your unwavering faith in the light, by your belief in hope. It made him feel things he didn’t want to. “You’re a fool if you truly believe that. The light may have been strong in the past, but the dark side will always prevail. Look at the Jedi- they were weak and naive, and their light has faded.”

“No,” you said quietly. “The dark side is weak. You act on impulse, out of fear and anger. You have no control. That’s why you’ll never win.”

His fist clenched at his side, frustration mounting. “You know nothing, rebel” his voice rising. “It’s the strength of the dark side that crushed the Jedi and rules the galaxy. The light side’s lies kept its followers weak, never reaching their full potential. Now, they are gone, and those who remain- and dare resist- will perish.”

“As long as there’s tyranny,” you promised, “there will always be resistance.”

His breath quickened behind the mask, the tension between you palpable. “Those who resist will fall. And you will bow to me, willingly or not.”

You met his threat head-on. “I will never bow to you.”

He leaned down, his presence suffocating. He could sense the strength in you, but also the hint of vulnerability. “You will” he whispered, his voice low, almost a promise. They all do. Even the strongest, most willful, they all break at the end.” Though, a part of him didn't want you to. A part of him wanted you to remain strong, to resist like you always had.

“Not me. I have nothing to lose. You made sure of that. Do.Your.Worst” you challenged.

He drew back, and though you couldn’t see his face, you sensed his grin beneath the mask. He always loved a challenge, especially when it was you who challenged him. 

“As you wish,” he said softly. “You will regret it.” 

He called back the troopers, ordering them to take you away. As they dragged you off, he gave one final order: “No one touches her. No one, no matter what.”

As they dragged you to the prison cell, you knew you had to act fast. You made your move, breaking free and rushing through the halls. The escape was going well- until you reached the hangar.

Vadar strode in, his fury palpable, destroying everything in his way as his heavy footsteps echoed off the walls. He barked orders for your recapture. 

Normally, he would execute any prisoner attempting escape or crossing a certain line, but since it was you, he couldn’t- something was holding him back. This mask he wore, these walls he’d built, they were starting to crack.

“You really thought you could escape?” The frustration in his voice was visible, though he tried hard to mask it. “You are a fool if you think you can run from me.”

“I will, or die trying” you shot back, using the Force to pull his lightsaber from his belt. You ignited it and cut down the approaching troopers, before launching yourself at him. But he was faster, catching you mid-air, slamming you against the wall with the Force as he retrieved his lightsaber.

Other troopers came running, pinning you to the ground, and you yelled at him. “Fight me, you coward!”

He glared down at you, his anger rising at your insolence. He could easily take you down, ending this fight with a single swipe of his lightsaber. Hell, he didn’t even need it. He could simply use the Force. But, something in him craved this- the thought of you fighting against him again. So, he entertained the idea.

“You dare challenge me?” he asked, wanting to hear your confirmation.

“I do. I challenge you to duel.” That might have been the stupidest decision you’d ever made, knowing how powerful and undefeated he was.

He sensed your conflict and cautiously asked again, “You really think you stand a chance against me?”

But you didn’t back down. “I don’t care. Give me a lightsaber, and we’ll let our skills decide.”

He stood still for a moment before commanding one of the troopers. “Very well.. Bring her a lightsaber.”

The troopers exchanged glances, hesitant and uncertain. One dared to speak, “Lord Vader, are you sure-” Before he could finish, Vader’s hand shot out, Force-choking him into silence. His lifeless body dropped next to you.

“I said, bring her a lightsaber!” he repeated, and a second trooper scrambled to obey.

The silence was menacing as the two of you stood face-to-face– well, face to mask, but you could feel something in the air shift. He was feeling…nervous. And it wasn’t because he thought you might stand a chance against him. It was something else, and it bothered you not knowing.

You could feel his gaze boring into you from behind his mask, and something about it made you anxious.

As the trooper handed you the weapon, stepping back, Vader spoke again. “Are you ready?”

“Your move, Vader.”

“No matter what happens, no one interferes,” he commanded his troops. They stepped back, watching from the background.

He ignited his blade, the red glow bathing the room in an eerie light. He circled you slowly, watching your every breath, every twitch of your hand. It was like he was testing you, seeing if you still had it. 

Growing tired of him circling you, you struck, and he blocked easily. 

While you had improved since the last time he’d seen you, he still knew you like the back of his hand.

You knew he wasn’t giving it his all- he was toying with you. Every move you made, he anticipated, his skills superior but controlled. 

It was only after you took an unexpected approach, catching him off guard, that you noticed it- a familiar move, a twist of the saber that only one person you knew had ever used.

A gasp escaped you, your eyes widening. “That move…only one person I knew used that.” 

You circled him, and his voice hardened, trying to deflect. “Are you going to keep talking, or fight me?” 

But the realization opened your eyes to other things you hadn’t noticed earlier. “You lack patience.” you said, stepping back slightly.

“Do not mistake my restraint for lack of patience.” he snapped, his irritation barely masked. “I am simply enjoying this dance.”

Wanting to test your theory, you pushed further. You used a technique only Anakin had known how to counter- a move the two of you had perfected together. His saber met yours in a clash of sparks, and for a moment, you felt it again. The presence. Anakin. 

Panting, you stepped back, lightsaber lowered. “Who are you really?” you demanded. “ And why haven’t you killed me yet?”

For the first time, Vader hesitated. His voice was quieter now, almost introspective. He could deny it, pretend he didn't know what you were talking about, but the truth was obvious. You knew who he was- who he had been.

Still, he needed to be certain. “What do you think you know?” he asked, his voice guarded.

“There’s no use fighting you” you said, lowering your lightsaber completely and deactivating it.

He was taken aback, and though the mask concealed his face, you could sense the sadness radiating from him. Memories of the past flashed before his eyes. “You know who I am” he said, his tone still cold, though it wavered slightly. “You know the truth.” Slowly, he lowered his weapon, following your lead.

You stared at him, disarmed in more ways than one. “Anakin?”

Tags: @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @dcrthbaeder @aoi-targaryen

[vodika-vibes]

Did You Know? - A Request from @wax-birds

Summary: You've been the Batch's medic since well before the Jedi Purge happens, and it just made sense to stick with them when they defected. Recently, Tech's been going out of his way to tell you random facts, and at first you were confused, but you're starting to understand what his game is.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted. I made up the planet, but I think the bird is an actual thing in the Star Wars verse...I didn't actually do any research, lol.

“Did you know,” You lift your gaze from your datapad to look at Tech, who’s standing awkwardly in the door to your area of the marauder, “the Morai birds mate for life and should their mate pass they remain in the nest waiting for them to return.”

“I…was not aware of that.” You say, “I also didn’t know that you were interested in the mating practices of birds.”

“Ah, well,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I am interested in a wide range of topics.”

Amusement lifts your lips into a smile, “And your fixation for the week is birds?” You tease very gently.

“They are very brightly colored.” Tech offers, “And are native to the planet we are about to visit.” He hesitates, “And I remembered that you have a Morai tattoo.”

“Aww, Tech.” You clasp your hands under your chin, “You’re sweet, learning things about my favorite animals simply because they’re my favorite.”

“I…well, not solely for you. Omega had questions-”

“I DID NOT!” Omega shouts from the next room.

Tech ignores her with the long practice of an older brother, “And then I remembered your tattoo-”

Omega appears next to him, her face is scrunched up, “Stop lying! You looked that stuff up specifically-mmph!” Tech slaps his hand over Omega’s mouth, stopping her from talking.

“Thank you, Omega.”

Your gaze flickers from the annoyed preteen, to Tech, and then back again. “Well then, if neither of you are injured, I need to get back to work.”

Omega pulls Tech’s hand away from her mouth, “Tech just hit me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“I have bruises!”

“You do not.”

“I want you to arrest him!” Omega declares dramatically as she points at her brother.

“I’m a medic, Meg, not a cop.” You reply with a small grin, “You want someone to punish him for hitting you, go to Hunter.”

“Maybe I will!” Omega says loudly, before she rounds on her heel, “Hunter!”

“Why would you tell her that?” Tech asks with a sigh.

You wink at him, “Well, if you get hurt, it means that you get one on one attention, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tech averts his eyes, but a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “I suppose it does not sound…awful.” He finally says as he catches your gaze, for a moment, just a moment, there’s something hot and needy in his gaze, before it’s quickly banked, and he turns away from you. “I will leave you to your work. We will be landing on Mora in three days.”

You know your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You know what you saw. And you are very, very interested.

And so you flash a small smile, even as a plan starts forming in your mind, “I’ll be ready.”

Tech glances at you one more time, and then slips out of your workspace just as Hunter shouts for him, and you muffle your laugh. Sometimes, a lot of times, the men you travel with are so obviously brothers that it’s hilarious.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you heard Echo and Wrecker arguing over Wrecker stealing some of Echo’s snacks only a little bit ago.

Still, you wouldn’t trade this job for any other medical career in the galaxy.

After all, where else would an incredibly handsome man flirt with you using bird facts?

Three days later, the Marauder lands on Mora, and you, with your medical kit slung over your shoulder, and your camera in hand, couldn’t be more excited.

“Alright,” Hunter says, getting everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have five different places we need to visit.”

“It’ll be faster if we split up,” You offer reasonably, “Using the buddy system, of course.” You add once you see the look on Hunter’s face. “And naturally, I won’t be paired off with Omega, since we’re both harmless.”

“I have a crossbow,” Omega reminds you with a pout.

“Ah, right. My mistake.”

“So that means you’re the only one here who’s harmless.” Echo teases as he bumps you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…before all else, do no harm, etc, etc-” You reply with a grin, as you bump him right back.

“Anyway,” Hunter interrupts, “Splitting up and using the buddy system isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll go with Omega. Tech-”

“I do not mind going with the doctor,” He interrupts, “As I understand, one of these locations has medical equipment she needs to inspect.”

Hunter looks at him, disbelievingly. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You offer cheerfully, “If anything is broken, I might not notice right away.”

Hunter turns his disbelieving gaze on you next, and you just beam at him. 

“Fine. Tech and the Doc are going together. Which leaves Echo and Wrecker.” Hunter says, “Any complaints? Good. Omega, come on.”

You grin as the other groups walk off in different directions, and then you turn your gaze on Tech, who’s watching you with a small smile on his lips, “Shall we?” You ask.

“It should not take that long to get the equipment that we need.” He agrees, as he turns in the direction of the shop, and then waits for you to fall into step next to him. 

“It shouldn’t,” You agree, “The longest part will really be you making sure that the equipment looks like it’s in working order.” 

He glances at you, “You really would not be able to determine if the gear was in working order?”

“Of course I’d be able to tell. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You reply with an unrepentant grin.

“O-oh.”

You cheerfully take his hand in yours and you lace your fingers with his, “Anyway, once we have the stuff delivered to the ship, we can look around on our own. I need a new jacket.”

Tech is staring at your joined hands, as if he’s not sure what to make of it, and then he slowly squeezes your hand, and is rewarded with a blinding grin. The moment he realizes that it’s intentional, some of the nervous tension drains from him. “Is there something wrong with your jacket?”

“Well…no. Not really.” You shrug, “It just doesn’t match.”

“...What does it not match?”

You sigh, “You and your brothers. My leather jacket is white! It needs to be darker so I actually look like I belong.”

“You do belong.” Tech says, “You are the most important member of the squad.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You say with a laugh.

“It is true,” Tech insists, “We would be lost several times over without you.”

“Aww, you’re sweet.”

“I am honest.” Tech replies, “You have saved all of our lives on many occasions. We owe you everything.” He pauses, “And I prefer it when you wear white. It makes it easier to see you on the battlefield.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” You point out as the pair of you come to a stop in front of the shop that’s holding the medical equipment that you need to look at.

Tech doesn’t reply right away as he enters the shop, “I think you look nice in white.” He finally says and then he turns his attention towards the shopkeeper and offers the name on the order.

Inspecting the machines takes a lot longer than you would prefer. A lot longer than Tech would prefer too, based on the look on his face, but there’s no way around it. Cid would have your heads if any of the machines were damaged in any way.

But finally, finally, you’re able to confirm the delivery, and you slump against Tech, exhausted. “This is the worst job ever.” You whine.

Tech glances at you, “Well, we are done now.”

“Until Cid gives us another job.” You grumble, and then you lay your cheek against his shoulder, “We used to fight for the good of the Republic, this work is demeaning.”

“But Cid does pay us,” Tech reminds you quietly, “Which is what we need.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess.”

You take his hand again, and then tug him away from the shop. “Where are we going?” Tech asks, though he doesn’t seem to have any problems with trailing after you.

You just grin at him, and tug him down an alley. “I wanted to go somewhere private.” You reply once you’re not surrounded by people.

“For what purpose?” Tech asks.

“For this one.” You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, before you pull away, “I don’t know if maybe I’m misreading things-” You murmur, though you’re not able to finish your sentence, as he tugs you against him and crashes his lips against yours. 

One of his hands slides up into your hair, while the other tightly grips your hips, pulling you as close as he can. And when he breaks the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, you can’t help but grin, “I take it I wasn’t misreading then?” You ask.

“I do not think you ever have.” Tech admits.

“Go me,” Your smile is soft and warm, “Hey, Tech?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that I think about you all the time?” He blinks at you, startled, “And that I would be really, really happy if you loved me as much as I love you?”

“And here I thought that I was being obvious.” Tech murmurs, before he kisses you again and again, “Of course I feel the same way. Or else I would not be kissing you.”

You grin and lightly kiss him again.

“Did you know,” Tech says quietly, “That I think about you all of the time too?”

At that a bubbly laugh falls from your lips, “I do now.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Sweet Sweet Girl

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Pairing: Incubus Max Lord x Female Reader Words Count: 1,400 Summary: Huh, what a weird dream. Warnings: NON-CONSENSUAL SEX (it's an incubus here folks), asphyxiation, unprotected piv sex, jedi mind tricks but make it for smut, i'm sorry he has the wig (justice for pedro's real hair), nocturnal orgasm, so many WW84 quotes

A/N: This is the darkest thing I've written along with writing a character from a movie I cannot stand. Guess what though... once I realized where I wanted to take this, I actually enjoyed it. So thank you to @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes for the Monster Smash, I really loved stepping outside of my comfort zone. Thank you to @mothandpidgeon for letting me throw ideas at her and her enthusiasm. Also thank you to @jolapeno for holding my hand through some of my doubts.

Masterlist

🛌 🛌 🛌

Sweet sweet girl, I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, sweet sweet girl.  Sweet sweet girl, you won’t look at me, you won’t pay me mind, sweet sweet girl. Sweet sweet girl, your body belongs to me, you can't stop me. No one can.

You pretty thing you, slumbering away in your idyllic iron bed. Under a cover of delicate flowers, you lay. So peaceful, so relaxed. He has access to everything he’d ever want, power beyond belief, richer than Mammon. He can have it all, and he wants it, so he takes you. Lucifer, save you. 

—-

Crimson petals line the walkway leading to your throne. It’s hazy here, light swirls and reflects in a different way. Your vision is wavy, as if everything you see is under a veil of amber liquid.

The heavy wooden doors of your fortress creak open, and he appears. 

Dark brown eyes framed by angled eyebrows lock onto you as he strides with purpose towards you. He’s adorned in golden silk that matches his complexion. He glows bright like a star. His honey blonde hair is always meticulously manicured, his face always perfectly smooth. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

“My Lord,” you bow your head to the bishop. 

He kneels in front of your throne.

“Tell me what you wish for, Your Highness, and I will show you how it works.”

“You. My Lord. I wish for you,” you beg. “I wish for you to love me.”

“I like the way you think. You don't ever have to make a wish for me to love you. I'm here because I love you. Take my hand.” 

You take his outstretched hand, and your surroundings transform.

No longer in your castle, you’re somewhere else, the world swirls stronger. The walls are draped in rich, golden tapestries that shimmer as they catch the glow of the golden candles flickering all around you. 

A chill runs down your spine as a tinge of uncertainty grips you; your mind begins to believe that this is all wrong, yet your heart races with only desire for your Lord.

“My Lord,” you whisper with a hint of concern. “Wha-where are we?”

“We’re where we belong. Never accept the limitations of nature,” his deep voice rumbles through you. He places his lips against your ear. “You want to be here.”

“I want to be here,” you repeat, as a wave of passion and peace washes over you.

“Good, my Queen,” he leans forward, pulling the sleeve of your dress down to expose your shoulder. “Do you desire me?”

“Yes,” you moan softly.

“Yes my–”

“Yes my Lord,” you submissively correct yourself. “I-I desire you, and only you.” 

He leans forward, placing a heated kiss on your bare shoulder. It smolders against your sensitive skin, igniting your body. Your dress is far too warm against your overheating skin, sweat begins to bead as you claw and clutch at the heavy velvet that sits upon you. 

He kisses a path from your shoulder to your neck before nipping his way up the sensitive skin to your mouth. 

Your dress disintegrates when his lips meet yours in a searing kiss. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, luring you closer, his breath is hot against your skin. He slit hers his arms around you, capturing you against him. With each line his fingers run up and down your spine, the more the walls close in on you, the world fading, leaving only your Lord. 

He consumes you. Each lick into your mouth makes your heart less capable of beating for anything else but him. He pulls away, leaving you breathless.

He snaps his fingers.

The world spins underneath you, a tornado of golden swirls lifts you up and away from your Lord. Your body hovers above the ground cradled by an invisible force as you’re gently turned on your back, floating above the golden altar. 

Your Lord follows, his golden robes are gone, leaving him standing radiantly nude. Light reflects off of his skin, making him glow brighter. Your Lord is made of ethereal light, a halo glimmers around his flawless body. Wide shoulders, broad chest, a path of hair leads to his cock standing hard and golden nestled in between strong thighs. You want to pray and give sacrament to your Lord.

“Your highness,” he circles your body like he’s stalking his prey. He halts in front of you, his eyes lock onto yours. “Tell me, what is it that you wish for?” 

“You–only you–my Lord.”

He nods his head. Your body descends, softly landing on the altar. 

He crawls over you and puts his lips against your ear. His body and smell surrounds you–lavender and smoke–it’s heady and intoxicating. It’s the only aroma you ever want to breathe in.

“I’m your wish and you’ll never renounce me,” he whispers, his cock lays heavily against the slick of you that’s been weeping for him since he walked into your castle. 

“You’re my wish and I’ll never renounce you,” you repeat, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Your wish is granted,” he grits as he sheathes the full length of him inside you. Opulence fills you as your cunt stretches around your Lord’s wealth. 

He slowly rocks back and forth, grinding his hips against yours, earning a gasp from your lips. 

He finds the crook of your neck, lightly sucking your skin with each push in, marking you with each thrust. There’s nobody else in this world, just your Lord.

His tongue dances across your chest and pirouettes around your nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. He lets it go with a pop before kissing up to your mouth. 

He lays heavily upon you, burdening your body, heart, and mind. Your Lord and his cock spears and suffocates your soaked pussy, overwhelming you. 

“Sweet sweet girl,” his voice drifts through your mind, though his lips don’t move. “I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, sweet sweet girl.”

“Sweet sweet girl,” he leans back, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, his telepathic words tangling through your mind. “You won’t look at me, you won’t pay me mind, sweet sweet girl.”

“Sweet sweet girl,” now he speaks aloud, his plush lips graze against yours. “Your body belongs to me, you can't stop me. No one can.”

“No one can,” you moan, feeling your body thrumming underneath his power. 

He’s possessive with your cunt, taking you, owning you, enchanting you. It feels so familiar and yet you feel like you’ve never been fucked like this before. You’re breathless and trapped, crushed under his large presence, it’s holy. 

His cock pounds into you, intoxicating you under its spell. You’re golden, his luster shines into you with each thrust. You feel like the wealthiest woman in the whole kingdom as your core tightens around him.

Each shuddering breath your lungs heave overwhelms you, the burn of smoke suffocates you. You’re choking on his aroma, it feels so fucking good. You’re trembling underneath his mass, eyes rolling to the back of your head. The world turns hazier, your eyes cloud with golden hues, as your Lord smothers you. 

“Hand yourself to me sweet sweet girl,” he groans against your lips.

You obey, fallen under his spell and give yourself to him, pulsing ecstasy against his cock as your orgasm rips through you. 

Your body lights from within, glowing, bright and blazing. Rays of light emit out of you, shooting from your skin. Golden petals fall from the sky, raining onto you and your Lord as his thrusts drive into you harder.

“You can have it all. You just have to want it!” he grunts as his grandeur is bestowed within you, coating your walls with his cum. His face flashes for a split second, a sneering red demon shows itself underneath a veil of Max's face. “Sweet sweet girl.”

—

An invisible weight is lifted off your body, rattling you awake.

“The world belongs to me! You can't stop me. No one can!” A familiar voice you can’t place echoes through your room.

“Hello?” you call out, throwing the floral comforter off your overheated body. 

A phantom clench tightens your core, you’ve soaked through your sleep shorts again. 

“Fucking hell,” you collapse against your crimson sheets soaked in your sweat and involuntary orgasm, “must’ve been a good dream.”

A gold petal falls from your headboard onto your head… that’s the third time it’s happened this month.

[lovegrowsart]

the argument i keep seeing that the choice qimir gives to osha to leave the island in episode six isn't a "real choice" because in the real world it'd maybe be realistically logistically/physically difficult to cross that body of water is driving me up the wall because it's such literal thinking when star wars has never been and will never be concerned with what's realistic or logistically plausible. there's fire in space in the first episode of the show, because fire needed to be there to give osha that moment of flashback to the trauma of her childhood and help further establish her character - it's entirely in service to the story, doesn't matter that that's not how it works irl.

the reason the ship is there is because it needed to be in the distance to facilitate the visual storytelling - osha looking back at the ship, her chance to flee/escape the underworld, then looking back at qimir walking away off screen and making the choice to follow him. that's literally (heh) it. he even suggests waiting for low tide if she wants an easier time of it if we're gonna be that concerned about how oh so terribly hard it'd be for osha - who is an adult ex jedi and a mechanic that does such dangerous jobs on space ships that the republic legit made it illegal for anyone but droids to do them - to manage a bit of a difficult swim :(

ymmv on the qimir being manipulative angle, but i think it'd benefit a lot of people's understanding of the dynamic between osha and qimir in episode six to remember that star wars is fairytale - it is metaphorical and psychological mythology. it is not realistic or grounded in reality, nor is it meant to be read with realism in mind, because then you're simply analysing/critiquing from a position that the story isn't operating from.

you don't have to take a creator's words into consideration when developing your own interpretation, but such things can be helpful and valuable. leslye headland's made her intentions re: osha and qimir's dynamic pretty clear - that it's not meant to be manipulative, that one of the purposes of episode six was to explore qimir's "lighter" side and osha's "darker" side (hence the wholly unsubtle costuming choices, him in natural-looking off-white and osha entirely in solid grey). while qimir isn't being wholly honest with her right off the bat (cause why would he be?), he also isn't deceiving or tricking her about anything re: who he is and what he's about - how could he? she knows his face. she knows entirely what he's capable of and what he did in episode five. he can't play the master and the fool the way he did with mae, he can only be as honest as a man like him can be if he wants her to listen to him. i don't think she's naive about him at all, and i think people struggle with understanding that - that she doesn't have any illusions about his morality or lack thereof - and understanding that she still has the agency and desire to listen to what he has to say. you can believe it isn't "good" for her to listen to him, sure, but that doesn't mean she's being maliciously manipulated maliciously.

[translucent-sun]

Another week later, Cody had made considerable progress in his defenses. His training had been paired with meditation, teaching him how meditation during battle can be difficult but helpful, and with each day, Cody became better, faster at it. With each day it became easier to summon the Force within him, to dive into it and let himself be guided.

He wasn’t sure what Obi-Wan had planned next. They were on their way farther out into the desert, wandering for quite some time now. When Cody had asked Obi-Wan why they didn’t take the Eopies, he’d only answered that we was worried they might get startled. Why, he hadn’t told him. 

Interesting. 

The entire hike he kept wondering what it could possibly be that Obi-Wan had in mind, but with no success. He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile as he thought about all the times Obi-Wan had done this before, refusing to explain things as though they were some big surprise that would be spoiled if he did. Cody could guess the answer when they finally reached a rocky field – debris of varying sizes that must have broken off the nearby canyons, carried here despite their heavy weight by the wandering dunes. 

“There are smaller ones over there, we’ll start with those,” Obi-Wan said without turning, without facing Cody, seemingly knowing that Cody had figured it out. Cody could almost feel his grin without seeing it. 

“It makes no difference, really, neither have any real weight within the Force, but usually it’s easier to start with objects that are perceived to be lighter.”

“Maybe I should start with sand, then,” Cody joked. Or it was supposed to be a joke, though he worried it might have been more deadpan than intended. 

Now Obi-Wan turned. “Sand works as an entity. It’s a lot more difficult to focus on a grain of sand, or even of a collection of them, than it is to focus on a rock.”

“Alright," he said, clasping his hands. "I don’t think I’m ready for this yet.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head and considered Cody for a moment. “Yes, you are.” There was really no room to argue in the tone he said it, soft but stern. Obi-Wan wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t sure, and besides, so far Cody had mastered all the tasks he’d been given. But this – this felt different. This felt big. 

Meditating could easily be dismissed as auditory hallucinations if you didn’t want to believe in it; not more than what he heard in his nightmares. The way he feels his targets in their defense training could just be his natural instincts. Most of his brothers had those, they’re soldiers after all. But making rocks fly? It felt like he was stepping into strange territory, the thought of it alone, of the possibility that he would be able to do this, felt so unreal that he had to force his mind to picture it. 

He realized that it must have been a while when he noticed a funny look on Obi-Wan’s face – something between worry and wonder, wanting to say something but not interrupt his thoughts. Only when he seemed to notice that Cody was back did he continue. “You doubt your abilities, but I can feel how strong the Force is in you. You’re suppressing it, which in turn makes it feel weaker to you than it is.”

Cody sighed. “It’s just all so new to me.” 

Already moving again, walking further into the field of rocks, Obi-Wan called back, “that’s why we’re taking it slow.”

“You call this slow?” Cody laughed, hurrying after Obi-Wan. “A month ago I didn’t know I had this ability, and today we’re going to lift rocks with our mind,” he teased, wiggling his fingers in the air as he spoke. Obi-Wan chuckled softly.

“You’re making it sound like magic.”

Cody considered him for a moment. “Well, isn’t it?” He didn’t get a reply–not in words. 

Instead, the ground around them began to shake. It only lasted seconds, then the first rock lifted out of the sand, a second and third followed quickly after. Loose sand was trickling off them, the rules of gravity only broken for the rock itself. Cody had seen him and other Jedi do this trick countless times, with objects much larger, but he couldn’t help but watch in awe, his mind trying to make sense of it once again. Obi-Wan still stood with his back towards Cody, with no visible strain in his body, his shoulders relaxed.

“It is no magic,” Obi-Wan finally said. “But the power of your mind.” The rocks fell back to the ground with a hollow thump. “Your turn, I will guide you,” he added with a grin as he turned around.

“This one,” Cody said after a while. Obi-Wan had made him pick a rock and joined him on the ground, crossing his legs beneath himself.

“Alright. We will start with plain old meditation, the same way we’ve been practicing.” 

Cody had gotten quite good at navigating within the realms of the Force, at seeing through the flood of emotions and seek what he needed. And yet, this felt new. 

“Call upon the Force. Let it flow through you.” Cody felt Obi-Wan’s gaze on him. He focused on his task, and slowly but surely, he could feel it. He could manage it. “Ready?” Obi-Wan asked. Cody nodded. “Open your eyes and focus on the rock you chose. Lift your hand towards it.” Cody did as he was told.

“Exert your will on it. Feel as though you were physically touching it, taking it into your hand and lifting it off the ground.”

The rock started to vibrate, ever so slightly, barely noticeable if one wasn’t paying close attention. Cody pressed his eyes shut in concentration, almost feeling the rock’s rough surface in the palm of his hand, feeling its shape, its heat. He opened them with a gasp before sinking into himself, a bone-deep exhaustion suddenly taking over, physically as well as mentally. He shook his head, unable to voice what he wanted to say.

“You did great,” Obi-Wan encouraged him. “You made it move on your first try, that’s impressive, to be quite honest.” Cody glanced up at him, even the small movement taking too much effort. “It’s common to feel exhausted. Younglings have lost consciousness after levitating their first object,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m not a youngling and I didn’t levitate anything, I barely made it shake,” Cody argued, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

“No to both, but you’re barely a month into exploring the Force, so don’t be so hard on yourself. We will try again tomorrow.” Why did he always have to be so damn convincing?

“Fine,” Cody exhaled. “But we will either take the rock home or find something closer. I’m not walking out here just to not make it fly.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help Cody up. 

“Fine,” he said in mock-defeat. Cody did not expect him to pick up the rock and stow it away in his bag. He must have noticed his confusion, because he explained, “you’ve gotten familiar with it now, with the way the rock feels when you reach out to it with the Force. It would be a shame to put that to waste.”

With a sigh, Cody took the bag from Obi-Wan and swung it over his own shoulder.

[roosjem]

Star Wars Au Masterlist

https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoosjeM

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‘Oya'karir Jetiise’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Semi hidden Jedi, All Mandalorians have a Competence Kink, Fix-it.

It started slowly. Mostly with curiosity from Mando’ade who had read Jaster’s article. Curiosity about just what their ancestors and predecessors saw in Jettise of all beings. That curiosity grew bigger when it turned out that Jetiise were a lot harder to find than anyone would have thought. Which made it a challenge. And there was no Mandalorian in the galaxy that would not rise to the challenge of a good hunt. -------------- Or, the discovery of a few tiny mistranslation leads to Mandalorians realising that their ancestors really really liked Jedi and they set out to discover why. Shenanigans ensue.

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‘The Temporary Temple Guards’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan x Jaster Mereel, AU Timeline.

It was a widely known fact within the Temple, that the Temple Guards stationed at the Coruscant Temple were experiencing a ‘shortage’ at the moment. Seeing as Knights were sent out to complete missions and went on protective details, they were also the Corp that was responsible for the Temple Guards. - “I may have an issue.” “What is it?” The boy was alone. No one else was around despite it being the middle of the night. Just the boy who made a bee-line for Obi-Wan. He was way too young to be out at this time let alone out here all alone. It was the boy’s training armour that tipped Obi-wan off that this was more than just a lost child. “I have a youngling in front of me. There is no one else around and I am pretty sure he’s Mandalorian.” Quinlan paused, then asked, “...Come again?” Obi-Wan peered down at the child tugging at his arm. “Aran, ner echoy'la.” Kriff. “Correction, I have a Mandalorian boy in front of me telling me he’s lost.” - Or it’s Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s turn to be a Temporary Temple Guard and of course one of his past missions comes back to haunt him.

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‘To Heal, One Must Hurt’

Update status: Ongoing, updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Jon Antilles x Jaster Mereel, Fix-it.

One of the Jetii’s scarred, pretty hands reached out and travelled to Jaster’s neck which had the latter stiffen. “What are you doing?” “Making sure your heart doesn’t fail while you sleep.” Jon replied. This Jetii was strange. “Your hand is putting too much pressure. I can’t sleep like this.” “I would rather not find you dead in the morning.” Jon replied, his hand not moving, “Healing you would be a waste of energy if that were to happen.” Jaster’s view of Jetiise had always been silver tongued Monks who sweet talked their way through politics and killed whomever didn’t fall for their mind tricks. This Jetii was nothing like that. “At least put your hand lower– how do you expect a Thaung-descendant to sleep when their ancient enemy is choking them?” It was hard to see the Jetii’s face below that deep hood of his. “Very well.” Jon scooted a bit closer. Jaster moved up and rested his head on top of the Jetii’s thigh. “What are you doing?” Jon demanded. “Shhh, sleep speeds the healing process.” Jaster mumbled. Another sigh told Jaster just how much he was pissing Jon off, but the Jetii kept his cool and slowly settled. It was actually surprisingly comfortable to lie down like this.

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'No Rest for the Weary'

Update status: Finished

Notable tags: Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi

'Fresh from Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan goes on a mission with his Master to Mandalore. The conflict between three major factions; the New Mandalorians, Kyr'tsad and the Haat'ade was getting out of hand and the New Mandalorians requested the Jedi to interfere. When they get separated, Obi-Wan is left alone on Mandalore to survive and somehow gains a fanclub of adoption-happy Mandalorians.'

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'The accounts of Ben Yustapire'

Update status: Finished

Notable tags: Ben Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Time Travel Fix-it, Mandalorian Empire.

'These are the official accounts of Ben Yustapire, recounting the the days leading up to the rule of Mand'alor the Reformer. The first Mand'alor to unite the Clans under one soul-ruler since the end of the Mandalorian Wars. Or as I knew him, Jaster be Aliit Mereel' In which Obi-Wan Kenobi is thrown back in time by the Force to get another chance at saving the galaxy.

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'The Last Of Their Kind'

Update status: Ongoing, slow updates/updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises Luke Skywalker, Post-Order 66, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies.

'He rounded the corner towards the square right in front of the Temple- it was different than before because there had never been a square in front of the Temple. Obi-Wan froze in place the moment he looked up. His eyes observed the large statues one by one. Plo Koon, Mace Windu, Kit Fisto- they were all Councillors during the war. Obi-Wan stood in front of the statues as tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn't seen them in a long time and these statues looked exactly like them. From facial features and expression down to the way they were seated- as if they were in a regular Council meeting. "Look Uncle Ben! It's-" Obi-Wan leaped to Luke and covered his mouth before he could say anything else. "Yes, I see, it's General Kenobi." He hoped the beings whose attention was drawn towards them would move on quickly. "But try not to shout, Luke, alright?" His eyes left the boy to observe the statue of himself. Or, in which the Clones take over the Empire and Obi-Wan hears rumours about the whole ordeal which causes him to head back to Coruscant. Updates whenever inspiration strikes.'

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'Rid'runi be Mand'alor'

Update status: Ongoing, slow updates/updates whenever inspiration strikes

Notable tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Alternative Timeline, Soulmate AU, Obi-Wan Kenobi raises Luke Skywalker.

'In his quest to bring his newly born nephew to Anakin's stepbrother, Obi-Wan 'Ben' Kenobi accidentally passed through a Force Nexus which transports him to another world where his dormant soulmark finds new life. Realising his predicament, Obi-Wan sets out to find a way to get them back to their own timeline to ensure Luke would have his family. Except it isn't that easy when old enemies hunt you down and a certain soulmate is trying to pin you in place.'

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'The War Master of the Jedi Order'

Update status: Finished (25/25)

Notable tags: Ben Kenobi x Jaster Mereel, Time Travel Fix-it.

'The Force- strong and Light as ever- greeted Ben as an old friend. A breeze blowing Ben's hood off and moving his robes. As if a hand gently brushed through his hair- as if the Force was comforting him. The beautiful colours painting the atmosphere. Another melody in the cool and icy evening air. Marching in the background. Ben closed his eyes, listening to it. it was the shift of armour, the clang of Beskar against Beskar, that snapped Ben out of his quiet reflection and mourning. Ben opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. Behind him were three Mando's approaching him from all sides and cornering him. Turning to face those approaching him, Ben tilted his head. "Tion'cuy?" "Naasade." Ben replied as he jumped back onto the railing, spread his arms and let himself fall back.'

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[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Some violence ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Elysium

Within the next 24 hours, you had been given a crash course into vampiric, or otherwise known as Kindred, unlife. Leon taught you how to rouse the blood, something you would need to do every night before you could rise from your dead slumber. 

“Never go to bed hungry,” he warned. “You may not wake up for weeks.”

The next important thing was to use it for what he called the ‘Blush of Life’, so that you could pretend to look human. Without it, your skin was the color of ash, you were icy cold to touch and had no heartbeat. You remembered the shock on your face when you peered in the mirror at your grayish body and listless eyes. Resting his hand on your shoulder, he murmured, “You’re still beautiful to me.” You shrugged it off without a response.

Mending wounds required rousing the blood and so did using certain powers within ‘Disciplines’, but you hadn’t fully crossed that bridge yet. Apparently by focusing and channeling it through your blood, you would eventually be able to call upon the innate gifts endowed by your clan. 

Some already occurred passively for you. Like when Leon tested you by hurling a glass at your face spontaneously. You caught it with perfect timing, assuming it was just by pure luck. But he rewarded you by throwing another, which you seized again flawlessly; your reflexes working double time compared to normal. He said it was dubbed ‘Celerity’.

“What the fuck, Leon?” you seethed, before smashing the glasses to the ground.

He sighed. It was gonna be a long night.

As for the other abilities, they would come with time as you honed your craft. Leon appeared to be positively cheerful about the whole thing though. “You’re doing really well,” he praised. “I’m sure you’ll pick them up fairly quickly, especially the simpler ones.”

“Like the Jedi mind trick?” you scoffed, referring to the time he pulled that on you in the park.

Pursing his lips, he ignored your jibe and clarified cautiously, “Yes, though that would be under Presence.” 

He stretched out his back on his armchair; it took a lot out of his patience to educate you. You weren’t the easiest student to handle, seeing as how you were the opposite of what he had been like with Ada, always challenging him head-on, as if you were trying to catch him out on any slips he made. Not to mention the endless snarky remarks you doled out.

“There’s one more — Auspex, but we don’t have to worry about all of this for now.”

You huffed, shaking your head at all the strange terminology you had to put up with this evening. There were many things that depended on rousing, but that also meant that sometimes your hunger would increase. It was like Russian Roulette, you never knew when you’d get hit. And then, the topic that you’d been dreading came up.

“Feeding,” he began. “There are many ways to do it, but keep it discreet.”

“I’m sure bashing the guy on the head the other night was warranted,” you argued, your tone still fraught with bitterness.

His brows knitted into a slight frown. “It was an emergency,” he muttered, before attempting to change the subject.

Heading towards the fridge in his open plan kitchen, he opened it and handed you what appeared to be a blood bag. “If you want, you could try one of these… but they’re not to everyone’s tastes.”

You squished the liquid contents inside the PVC bag between your hands, causing it to pool on one side and then the other. Playing with your food. You shuddered. The concept was still so alien to you.

“The medical ones are almost undrinkable. However, the unprocessed ones could work, at least for you. Doesn’t really do anything for the older ones among us,” he explained, though there was a momentary pause when he noticed your discomfort.

“Hey, you okay?” Reaching out for the bag, he placed it back on the fridge shelf after you surrendered the item to him silently. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now. But, uh, we can go slow.” He swallowed anxiously, hoping he hadn’t touched a raw nerve with the subject matter. 

Gesturing towards the compartment, he mentioned, “I have a couple of these in here now. You’re free to have them at any time… or not.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” you mumbled, nodding despondently as you turned in the other direction. He was trying to be nice, but everything that had happened so far felt like a bad dream you wanted to escape from. You still couldn’t accept your new reality.

“Would you like to take a break?” he asked tentatively. “We don’t have to continue with this tonight, if you want.”

Clearing your throat, you waved away his concern, trying to put on a brave front. “No, it’s fine. You said it won’t be long before we’d be called in front of the Prince… and Sheriff?” The pitch of your voice rose at the end of your sentence, uncertain of whether you had used the right titles; they sounded foreign to you, as if you were living in medieval times. 

He had already explained to you the rough details of what had happened when you’d been attacked. It was difficult to wrap your head around the implications behind it, but the demonic face of your assailant continued to haunt you. Did you now have to testify in a sort of court? Would they bring you in for further questioning? How exactly did the judicial process work in this world? 

According to Leon, Kindred culture and politics were a completely different ball game from those in the mortal world. So, as much as you had a tendency to wing it in your previous life, you were way out of your league in this one.

“I’m guessing with the shit that went down, I should try to be prepared.” You gazed at Leon intently, trying to read from his expression how bad the situation was. 

There was a slight shift in movement of his lips, but other than that, nothing. Damn that man and his poker face.

“Okay, I’ll teach you what I can.” He took your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. This time, you didn’t pull away. “Just stop me at any point.”

He spent a substantial period enlightening you about The Traditions, the laws of the Camarilla — the sect you now belonged to, unfortunately not by choice. The first law and most crucial of them all, was to uphold the Masquerade and prevent anyone from knowing about the existence of your kind. As of now, Leon, being your creator, or sire, was responsible for your actions until you progressed on from being a fledgling to a neonate. Basically, a point in time where you wouldn’t be treated as a baby anymore. 

You began to understand that this was the same crappy autocratic system you had despised as a human, rife with contradictions. Especially when Leon proceeded to tell you about what he jokingly coined ‘Tradition 0’.

“The thing is, I can go on about all these rules, but whatever you do, don’t get caught.” He adjusted himself uneasily on his high stool, supposedly half-regretting what he had just informed you. You had a rebellious streak, he always knew that, and perhaps even liked it; living vicariously through your actions. But he was putting you in a dangerous spot by encouraging it.

“You’re telling me this?” you coughed out a laugh.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he cautioned right after, but you rolled your eyes at his remark. Typical.

“I’m just saying some rules are bullshit—”

“Glad we can agree on something,” you taunted.

“Right, well,” he sighed, the dull pounding at the temples of his head starting to grow more persistent. “Be smart about it.”

With that, he presented a burner phone and pager, nearly identical to the ones he owned. You grimaced at the old-fashioned, brick devices in front of you. One of the things Leon had iterated was the Camarilla’s blanket tech ban. He said it was a safety precaution against the Second Inquisition, or ‘SI’ for short, who’d managed to infiltrate hordes of Kindred through their carelessness. Personally, he shared his doubts about that, surmising it was more about the older generation’s fear of technology, and using the ban as yet another form of control.

“Technically speaking, you’re not even allowed to have one of these.” A slight smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he jiggled the phone, hoping you’d appreciate his word play. You didn’t, providing him with nothing more than a scowl.

Tough crowd, he shrugged before setting it down on the counter. “Anyway, I’m guessing your colleague’s gonna start worrying about your radio silence very soon.”

Fuck, Patrick. In the whirlwind of events, you’d forgotten about your instructions to him the other night.

“Pager’s usually for any comms from the Prince, among other more, uh, unconventional methods.” He recalled one of Hunnigan’s rats tailing him along the street with a spellbound look in its eyes, the dead drops, and the codes in graffiti at specific locations around the city, mimicking secret messages on ancient Venetian walls.

First things first though, you needed to allay any worries that resulted from your absence. You grabbed the phone, flipping it open. What was once a novel experience with Leon at the cafe now felt like a chore. You were unused to the stiff buttons, tiny screen and pixelated graphics as you punched in the numbers.

Pressing the age-old phone to your ear, the ringtone eventually came to halt, and you heard someone fumble on the other end of the line, along with a muffled shout over a wall of background noise, “Yeah, just a minute!”

“Patrick?” you addressed purposefully.

“Jesus! Where’ve you been? I tried calling you a million times; went straight to voicemail. Everyone’s been asking around for you! Did that guy—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, stopping his rambling in its tracks. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier, I, um—” you glanced over at Leon as he eyed you inquisitively, wondering how you’d talk your way out of this one. 

“Lost my phone; think I dropped it somewhere,” was the classic excuse you settled with.

Leon nodded approvingly.

“Explains the unknown number,” Patrick inferred. “Anyway, you coming in?”

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Uh, actually, I’m not feeling so hot.” That was at least a partial truth. “Gonna take this shift off too. Tell the rest I’m sorry.”

There was a low, static chuckle. “Must’ve been a wild night, huh?”

“Come on, seriously?” you guffawed, cursing workplace gossip with a passion. “It wasn’t���”

“Later, boss,” he drawled. “You deserve it.” He hung up before you had a chance to argue any further.

“Yeah, fuck you too, Patrick,” you grumbled, slamming the phone’s cover back onto itself as Leon failed to stifle a snicker. 

He’d eavesdropped on the entire conversation. You flipped him off in response, which earned you an even louder chortle.

Both of you were interrupted by a series of beeps coming from Leon’s pager. He swiped it up in his right hand, taking a peek. His jaw tightened visibly, setting into a hard line as he regarded you with a rigid expression. 

“The Prince beckons.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Huddling under the parasol that Leon held out to shield you from the pouring rain, you walked briskly beside him. Your heeled boots clacked along the city pavement, as you headed towards what appeared to be an inconspicuous underground shelter. Drawing closer, you saw the distinct mark of the Umbrella Corporation logo at its entrance. 

Security cameras lined the walls and an access control pad lit up by the side. Scanning his magnetic token against the reader, he keyed in a numeric code which caused a set of doors to open, allowing you to enter an elevator shaft.

“Umbrella’s involved?” you gasped in incredulity. It never occurred to you that the multinational conglomerate would be so intrinsically tied to the underworld.

Leon shot you a dour look, his brows puckered as a clear sign of his discomfort. “Yeah, the Prince is its biggest investor.”

You clucked your tongue. No wonder they’d always seemed shady. “So, this Prince… has he got a name?”

“Mm hm, Wesker.”

Given the way he had spat it out, you didn’t have to be a genius to guess that Leon wasn’t very fond of the man in any respect. It wasn’t a surprise, since to you, all corporate overlords were the same — evil, money-grabbing assholes.

“You would do well to follow my lead when we meet him,” he counseled gravely, as you reached the bottom level of the place, and stepped out onto the platform that serviced one of Umbrella’s many private subways across the city.

You were the only ones in the empty station. It was eerily silent until you boarded the automated train, whereupon a robotic voice announced, “This train is bound for NEST. Do not exit until the final destination.”

Leon’s mood seemed to grow increasingly morose the further you journeyed towards Elysium, where the Prince had his quarters open as a neutral ground for the Camarilla vampires to be entertained, relax and attend to important discussions. It just so happened that Wesker considered himself to be the greatest scientist ever known to mankind and fancied his Elysium to be instated within Umbrella’s laboratory complex. Apparently, the location had been considered unorthodox, but no one dared to challenge the Prince, instead resorting to petty complaints behind his back.

As he gave you a brief rundown of the place, who you should avoid and how you should behave, the train braked, stopping at the facility’s station. Leon’s final words of warning echoed in your ears, “Remember, you answer to me, and only me. Not to my sire, not to anyone else. Got that?”

Under normal circumstances, you would have made some flippant remark and opposed his sudden display of authority over you, but you’d never seen him this unnerved before. He steeled himself, his countenance turning stoic and impenetrable; the only remnant of who he was shone through his sapphire eyes. It was as if he had changed into a completely different person and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Instead, you chose to hold your tongue and observe the situation. Nodding quickly, you stuck close to him as he requested while entering the sterile, clinical setting of Wesker’s inner sanctum.

As you walked across an extended bridge towards the East Area, you noticed cliques of what you assumed were other vampires hanging around the pathways and the circular main shaft. Sipping on scarlet liquid in wine glasses, they whispered to each other, sneering as they gave you the side-eye.

Your ears pricked up as you tried to zero in on their hushed conversations. All at once, you heard a cacophony of voices surrounding you.

“She won’t last a week.”

“I’ll give her three days at most.”

“I heard she tasted delicious.”

“No wonder Leon couldn’t restrain himself.”

The voices were overwhelming, coming from all directions, and at times sounding right up close to your ear. You felt woozy and nearly stumbled, if not for Leon wrapping his arm around to catch you. He threw you a look of concern, but said nothing as he led you away from the crowd.

“Easy there, wouldn’t want to accidentally fall off the ledge now, would we?”

You ignored the feminine voice, allowing her silvery laughter to wash over you as you resolved to focus on the task ahead. Harden yourself, you breathed, imagining a void abyss into which your emotions could be emptied. Leon had mentioned they would try to faze you, and you knew now, more than ever, that in order to make it out of here in one piece, you’d need to place your trust in the man who had upended your very life.

From one door to the next, the way this complex was built seemed to mimic that of a spacecraft. The final set of doors swooshed open as its panels glided along the tracks. You set foot into a neatly manicured greenhouse, its lower temperature and misty atmosphere contributing to the lushness of the plants it housed. 

There was a tall, athletically built man in a full black formal ensemble, topped with a smart, matching coat, standing with his back to you on an elevated section of the room that served as a podium. His sandy, almost platinum blonde hair was gelled back tidily, and his hands, donned with fitted black leather gloves, were interlocked behind him in a military stance. He appeared to be fixated on something through a glass window below him. 

At his side stood a svelte lady with a tousled, brunette bob, dressed mostly in camouflage garb except for a striking cobalt blue tank top. She wielded a broad, heavy-duty steel machete, its surface catching the light and casting a menacing glint. A Doberman Pinscher sat obediently by her side, vigilantly surveying its surroundings.

It was only when you passed through the pathway connecting the entrance to the podium that you realized others were lurking around the shrubbery. Their eyes gleamed in a variety of otherworldly colors as they looked on with aroused interest at the spectacle before them. The vibe was tense, but you couldn't quite place your finger on the exact cause.

As Leon reached the edge of the stairs leading up to where Wesker was standing, he placed his hand diagonally across his chest, bowing in reverence. “My Prince,” he greeted, casting a stern glance at you to indicate that you should follow. 

You dipped your head in an awkward semi-bow, feeling completely out of place amid the formality of such a situation. He wrinkled his nose at your halfhearted attempt but left it at that, deciding it would work more in your favor not to make an obvious fuss over it. It was only then that the formidable man turned around to acknowledge the pair of you. His height, accentuated by the elevated platform, made him appear even more imposing as he towered over you. Although he sported a pair of pitch black sunglasses, you could still see the red glow of his eyes like burning embers behind them.

“Leon Kennedy and his newly Embraced childe.” He grinned wolfishly, though you didn’t understand what was so funny. “I realize your initiation to unlife was under… rather dire circumstances. My sincerest apologies.”

The tone of his voice seemed to suggest that he was mocking you, rather than being genuinely sympathetic to your plight. Your temper was beginning to flare up again, but when you peered over at Leon, you saw the strained look in his eyes and the tautness of his neck, almost as if he was pleading for Wesker to show some form of mercy. His vulnerability struck at your core, and you felt a sense of pity for him to be reduced to such a docile position. Biting your tongue, you quelled the simmering anger that was threatening to boil over.

“Such fire in her eyes,” Wesker tutted, smirking at Leon knowingly, though your sire remained expressionless. Holding out his arms, he welcomed you with them, “Let me have a closer look at you.”

For the first time you had entered Elysium, a bone chilling fear ran through your entire body, though it was soon replaced by the warmth and weight of Leon’s hand on your back, gently coaxing and ushering you towards Wesker with a reassuring gaze. You knew he was supporting you through this, despite harboring the same trepidation and dread within himself.

Once you were inches away from Wesker, he reached out, tucking his fingers under your chin to tilt your face from side to side under the harsh beams of light hanging overhead from the ceiling. “Hmm, not bad.” He licked his lips suggestively. “Tell me, Leon, did she taste as good as Sherry?”

Sherry? Who was—

“I am certain that Sherry is more suited to your palette, Prince.” His evasiveness carried a wisp of sadness. 

A respectable Prince never needed to rely on any of his Disciplines to incite fear and control over others in Court. Wesker, as a Ventrue, was more than skilled at Dominate, and could have chosen to use it indiscriminately. But what good is a Prince who relies on the powers of the blood to achieve his desires? A weak pushover. An idiot who should’ve been overthrown yesterday. 

Leon knew that Wesker reveled in prodding at his vulnerable spots with an invisible stick just to put him in his place. In turn, he was expected to perform this little monkey dance each time around the Prince for his acceptance. He just prayed that you would continue to be sensible; you were trying your best so far to temper your emotions and he was proud of you.

“Very well.” Wesker released your face, before signaling to someone at the back of the room. “Bring the rat in,” he summoned.

A scrawny man clad in a torn and bloodied hoodie was dragged by his chains towards the center of the room. His face had been mutilated and bizarre, occult symbols were burnt into his skin. Kicked to the ground, he sniveled woefully, scrambling to clasp his hands together as he begged, “P-please, I-I don’t know anything else, I swear!”

“Silence!” his captor roared.

Turning back to you, Wesker gestured towards the prisoner. “This abomination was part of the group that attacked your kind. They conducted what we call a Mass Embrace,” he lectured. 

“If your sire taught you well, you would know which of the Traditions were broken?” The lilt at the end of his sentence informed you that this was a test, as he peered at you expectantly.

You caught a glimpse of recognition in Leon’s eyes, as he offered a subtle smile in encouragement.

“Two of them,” you answered, crossing your fingers that you had memorized the text correctly. “Breaching the Masquerade and unsanctioned siring of another Kindred.”

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room. “Indeed,” Wesker commended. 

For some reason, he then decided to recite the Third Tradition in its entirety, as if hinting at something to you. “Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine Elder. If thou createst another without thine Elder's leave, both thou and thy progeny shalt be slain.”

Before you could respond, the woman with the machete stepped forward. “I am ready to fulfill my duty, Prince.”

“Oh, Jill.” He gave her a fond side smile. “So eager for blood.”

There was a slight pause before he nodded. “Final Death. See to it then, my trusted Sheriff.”

In an instant, she leapt across the wide distance separating the Prince from the captive, and hacked off the screaming man’s head with one clean sweep. You flinched, shielding your eyes from the gruesome display as the other vampires murmured to each other animatedly. 

This was meant as a lesson. Wherever you went, you would be observed and judged, and if necessary, put down like a dog just as that vampire had been.

As the corpse was carried away, the rest of the audience took their cue to leave the vicinity, boredom setting onto their faces once again as they sauntered out. You were about to head down the stairs, when Wesker grabbed your wrist, motioning for Leon to join him as well. “Wait a moment, little one,” he cooed.

When the room had emptied out save for the three of you and Jill in the background, Wesker spoke up, directing his question to your sire, “Since you were at the scene, any guesses as to who might be responsible?”

“Well, based on the particulars of the Embrace, and their love for creating shovelheads, the obvious choice would be the Sabbat. The clues seem to point there at least,” Leon deduced logically. “The Anarchs would be fools to pull off something so bold… and stupid.”

“The Sabbat, those insolent rats,” Wesker hissed. A hint of rage tainted his voice, as he balled his gloved hand into a tight fist, causing the leather to pile and squeak. “Do you know how much trouble this incident has caused me?”

“The Raccoon City newspapers and broadcasting network have been going off their rockers about this,” Jill piped up, making her way over with her Doberman in tow. “The fire covered up any real evidence, but the Raccoon Police Department suspects foul play. They’re calling for witnesses.”

“Leon, I have come to value your experience, especially with such delicate matters,” Wesker remarked. “I want you to investigate this for me. We can’t have any more of these imbeciles popping up where they shouldn’t be. Next thing you know, the SI comes knocking at our door.”

He glanced over at you again as a calculating smile spread across his face. “Take the fledgling with you. Let this be a way to prove herself as an asset to our domain.”

“As you wish, my Prince,” Leon obliged, though you could tell that he was dismayed by the outcome.

“Jill will brief you about the case after you’ve had your refreshments,” he continued. “Otherwise, our meeting here is concluded.”

At this, he released his grip on your wrist, the imprint of his hand still visible around it. Leon took the opportunity to loop his arm protectively around your waist, pulling you snugly against him as he escorted you toward the exit. You hated to admit it, but after the overwhelming events of today, you were thankful for the comfort he provided you.

However, after settling into a private booth in the lounge on the lower level of the East Area, Wesker’s words came back to haunt you. “Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine Elder.”

The tenet ran through your mind over and over again, until it finally dawned on you that your Embrace was by no accident. Leon had planned to turn you all along. You would have been beheaded by Jill if he hadn’t acquired Wesker’s permission in advance.

Your lips quivered as you stopped drinking the ruddy fluid from the glass that had been offered to you on the way in. It clinked as you placed it down on the crystal countertop before facing the man in question.

“You’re a goddamn liar, you know that?” you reproached, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 

With just one look at you, he knew that you had discovered his dirty little secret. “It wasn’t meant to happen like this. I was going to give you the choice,” he asserted, shuffling closer in desperation as he reached out to cup your cheek in his hand.

“Like hell you were!” you jeered, pushing him back by the shoulders.

“I’m telling you the truth!” he exclaimed, unwilling to let you go as his eyes darted in panic, and his expression crumpled into despair. “Please, you have to believe me.”

Suddenly, the curtains drew open as a sultry, contralto voice rang out, “There you are!”

You jolted towards the source, finding yourself face-to-face with a glamorous lady in a rouge thigh-high slit dress. Her raven black hair was styled into a sleek, angular bob cut which was tucked behind her ears. A foxy smirk played across her bold red lips.

“Oh, Leon, why haven’t you introduced us? I’ve heard so much about you.”

[aurora-starwars]

Ooh I just saw a cute little AU prompt I wanna see if it can be used! So it’s the soulmate au where the reader shares eye color in one eye with their soulmate. I’d love it if you could do an angsty fluffy Anakin x reader would mate au with Anakin in his revenge of the sith era? Also, I was wondering if you write for Stargate or know any writer who does on here? There’s not enough Stargate love and it makes me sad 😞. Thanks lovely!

The Look of Terror In Your Eyes

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader; Soulmate au!!!!

Summary: Reader is one of padmé’s handmaidens, and while joining her on Mustafar, she finds a familiar pair of eyes. Eyes that shouldn’t be as red as they are…

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fire, sobbing, sith, evil anakin, star wars stuff, related violence (not really) Idk, you let me know…

A/n: Thank you so much for waiting and requesting! Took a while to get out but I was feeling the angst after ep 7 of The Last Of Us. 😭😭😭 Also, sorry, I don’t know any writers for stargate! i had to look it up 😭😭, but if anyone has any recommendations, comment them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, sorry for the long break y’all!!! <33333333

P.s: I love the soulmate au trope!!!!! <3

Masterlist

[Name] always loved the idea of a soulmate. The mere thought of a perfect person for her, a soul that perfect for hers sounded marvellous. Two hearts connected by the grace of the universe, or as the Jedi believe, the force. Many people debated the origin of this special connection between organisms; specifically humanoids. Some thought it was their planet’s deity that blessed–and in some cases, cursed– the living beings with companionship, others thought it wasn’t real, that it was all just some trick of a decease or parasite. But most have concluded and agreed that it was the work of the seemingly magic that holds the universe together; the force.

[Name] was a big fan of any theory or story she could hear about soulmates. Free time was spent asking the people around her about their second eye. She always wondered how other’s knew which eye was whose, and she was always met with, “You only know when you meet them, when you lock eyes.” [Name] often liked to imagine what her soulmate looked like. Which eye would be her soulmate’s and which would be her own? What would her soulmate look like with a body around her matching eyes? Would they be brunette? Blond? Would they be a man? Be a woman? What would it look like when they eventually locked eyes? Would their eyes fill with the amount of love [Name] knew that she would feel for them?

Thoughts of her special someone flooded her mind every moment she had time to think. And as much as she loved to think about it, she hardly had time too. [Name] was a busy girl as she was a handmaiden of Padmé and often was travelling, doing one of the other girls make up or switching places with Padmé in order to keep her safe. The senator was the girls main priority and honestly, she was their pride and joy.

This busy job didn’t keep [Name]’s thoughts from wandering at night and like a magnet, her mind would gravitate to her soulmate. She only began to think more about it after a trip to Naboo, where [Name] learned of two of Padmé’s previous handmaidens who were soulmates and had met each other through the former Queen’s protection program. While a wonderful story, [Name] couldn’t help but think about if she would meet her soulmate on the job, if ever. It was a large universe and more often than not, soulmates die before they are ever able to meet the soul destined for them.

Days in the senate were quiet and beyond mundane. And while every once and a while Padmé and her causes would get a win, those times were few and far in-between. Majority of days were spent in the rooms that were provided for the senators, pouring over documents and finding information on how to fix the wrongs of the galaxy, diplomatically.

But these issues are never resolved overnight, and after years of tireless hours of dedicated work within the senate, [Name] found herself less and less hopeful of the wonderful life she pictured outside of the senate. She dreamed of a life with her soulmate, back on Naboo, where she could be with her family and friends. Somewhere nice, somewhere where she could live out the rest of her life out in peace surrounded by everything she has ever loved.

Those dreams always seemed silly once she was sat in the senate, watching over Padmé time and time again, no hope that this life would cease. That the war would end and they could go back home once they finally had did all they could in repairing the senate. That [Name] could finally live out her happily ever after with the one she dreams of, but knows nothing of. Nothing but what one of their eye’s looks like.

Although soulmates could come as romantic or platonic, [Name] never cared. [Name] would be happy to not be lonely. To have someone by her side for the rest of her life. That was all [Name] dreamed of. Not being alone.

That was why she took the job after all. Of course, when the former Queen calls, it is hard to decline the honour of protecting the one and only Padmé Amidala. But that deal becomes a whole lot sweeter when there is a promise of a group of girls accompanying you. A promise that you will not be alone. That was very incising for [Name].

And while most of the senate meetings were snore inducing and late nights reading and rereading documents was beyond tedious, it was made incredibly better by the girls who had also agreed to lay their lives of the line for Padmé. They had become a sisterhood of sorts, a unbreakable friendship formed between them and there was an unspoken understanding that while they worked with Padmé, they were in for anything. That meant life or death, they stood together in order for Padmé to prosper.

That security meant everything to [Name]. In fact, that was everything to [Name]. Since she joined Padmé on her trip to Coruscant all of those years ago, [Name] has practically forgotten who she used to be, and was convinced that a part of her lied in this job. And that part would be ripped from her if she ever left the job, and she would be left alone.

Her dreams of meeting her soulmate never died though. In fact, that is what got her through every day. Every day that she spent with the people she loved so much, every day she dreaded them being taken from her. Thoughts and dreams of a perfect world, with her perfect person. No war, no slavery, no crime, just two souls meeting and living out the rest of their lives, just one day at a time.

But as she stood in front of the mirror of the fresher, all of those thoughts flew out the window. Traveling with Padmé as her escort, [Name] ended up on a J-type Naboo star skiff headed towards Mustafar. [Name] didn’t know why they were going to Mustafar or what would be waiting for them on the old mining planet, but she did know that she wasn’t ready.

It didn’t matter what met them on Mustafar, because all that really mattered to [Name] in the moment, was her reflection. Or more specifically, her right eye that had turned a gnarly, fresh blood red, with irises the colour of acid.

It only took a matter of moments before [Name] found tears running down her face. She pulled at the skin of her cheeks, moving in closer to look if what she had seen was right before closing her eyes. It was a vicious loop; pull, look, cover. She wasn’t sure how long this went on for, finding herself heaving on the floor what felt like a century later. What was she going to do?

She had heard of Sith eyes. Many had, especially if one had spent any time on Coruscant. The tales of Jedi going to the dark side were relatively popular in the upper-levels of Coruscant. The nasty evil that had become a cataclysmic emergency in galaxy had ruthlessly killed millions with no regard for life. That was of course until the Jedi Order vanquished them. The nasty plague that was the Sith had been thought to have been defeated, extinct, as of many, many years ago. But yet, her [Name] was, with her right eye as bright as the sun, glowing so bright, it was as if it was haunting her.

What does this mean?

Am I going to die?

Am I Sith?

Will I hurt innocent people?

Am I evil?

Thoughts infiltrated her mind without mercy and terror tore through her brain like a violent hurricane. Her mind was spinning.

Millions of lives have been lost at the hands of the Sith. Millions of innocent caught in the reign of terror the Sith brought where ever they went. How could [Name] be like them?

Then it hit her like a freighter.

Her soulmate.

Her soulmate, the one she had dreamed and fantasized about her whole life, a Sith. Pure evil, working for causes that only bring harm to the universe. Lying on the floor, [Name]’s sobs wracked through her body, the only rest she got is when she started to violently leave heave before more tears and loud sobs found their way from her lungs.

It made sense though, she was never a Jedi, never force sensitive. So why would her pair of eyes be the distinct aggressive colour of the force sensitive Sith?

The Sith wasn’t her, so that only left her soulmate. Her wonderful, beautiful soulmate of which she has never met. And as she curls deeper into herself, [Name] questions whether she would actually meet them.

And whether or not she wants too.

Just as [Name]’s sobs and shook started to subside, [Name] felt the familiar jolt of the ship landing. A cool chill shot up her back as she made her way to her feet. Looking into the mirror once more, she found that both the eyes were back to how she remembered them to be. What they had always been her entire life. Wiping her eyes, [Name] tried to clear all evidence of her tears and break down.

[Name] closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. The sound of the ships engine shutting off reminded her of where she was. Right, Mustafar; the place where Padmé was rushing to in order to help a friend. Letting out a breath, she made a promise to herself to help Padmé out with whatever.

[Name] stood next right next to Padmé as the hatch lowered and the red hazed glow of the lava coated planet overwhelmed her vision. As she was momentary blinded, Padmé ran down the ramp towards a cloaked figure. From the distance, [Name] couldn’t hear much but she could make out a faint conversation as she slowly approached.

“I saw your ship, what are you doing out here?” The brunette man spoke as he leaned into the hug Padmé was giving him, before pulling away and holding on to the sides of her arms.

“I was worried about you, Obi-wan told me terrible things,” Padmé looked up at him, and from her tone of voice, something [Name] knew very well, it was evident that Padmé was very upset.

“What things?” He questioned, not harshly, but certainly not in a tone of voice one should use with a senator.

“He said that you’ve turned to the dark side. That you…” Padmé began, before pausing, struggling to find the strength within her to whisper the words.

“Killed younglings,” She muttered in horror. Terror was set in her eyes, but there was not quiver of disbelief in her tone, no indicator to [Name] that this man wouldn’t do such a thing.

“Obi-wan is trying to turn you against me,” The man spoke after a moment, his voice deep with the familiar feel of unnerve that Padmé and her handmaidens have become so used to in the senate.

“He cares about you, Anakin,” Padmé argued, although it didn’t sound like an argument, more like a plea. “He wants to help you.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed, “Nothing can save me, only my new powers can do that.”

Padmé took a step back and [Name] took two steps forward.

“At what cost?” Padmé looked into his eyes once again, and as [Name] could see, she was begging. “You’re a good person. Don’t do this.”

“I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of,” Anakin's gaze was intense, his eyes narrowed on Padmé as if at any point she would stab him and run away.

“I am more powerful than the chancellor. I-I can over throw him,” Anakin began taking steps forward and quickly Padmé started taking steps back.

“And together you and I can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be,” Anakin stops moving, watching Padmé eagerly in hopes that she will agree.

Taking another step back, Padmé shakes her head, “I don’t believe what I am hearing. Obi-wan was right. You’ve changed.”

Anakin scuffs, shaking his head before raising his finger, “I don’t wanna hear any more about Obi-wan. The Jedi turned against me, don’t you turn against me,” That sounded like a command.

“I don’t know you anymore. Anakin, you’re my best friend, you are like my brother,” Padmé plead, her voice broken and littered with heartbreak. It might not have sounded like it, but those few words meant everything to Padmé. Those words were like a code that only one of her handmaidens could crack. That [Name] could crack.

The words whispered of betrayal, of heart break and of a familiar love that she cannot part with. She truly loved Anakin, the sister in her seemed to shine through as she spoke with the man.

“You’re going down a path I can’t follow.”

“Because of Obi-wan?”

“Because of what you’ve done,” Padmé sobbed, her voice raising as she neared her breaking point. [Name] finally made her way behind Padmé as she spoke again, “Because of what you plan to do.”

And as [Name] laid her hand on Padmé’s shoulders, bring her back slightly, Anakin’s eyes were back on the ship. [Name] rubbed Padmé’s arms gently in attempts to comfort the distressed girl and as she did so, it was almost as if she could feel the rage from the man behind her. [Name] tried to pay no mind, busying herself with the sobbing girl before her. Padmé’s head raised, looking up from the spot she marked on the ground, and gasped as she made eye contact with you.

“Liar!” Anakin yelled, bring the attention back to him. And when [Name] eyes drifted over to the simmering man, she found herself looking into a very familiar set of eyes.

Her eyes.

The same pair of eyes that stare back at her in her reflection every day, mirrored.

A gasp left [Name]’s throat, bringing his attention to her. As his gaze connected with hers, his eyes faded from one red, and one of [Name]’s to just infectious red. A wave of comfort went through [Name]’s body as she stared into the eyes that she has been dying to meet.

But instead of relief, or joy, [Name] only felt gutted. The harsh heat from the surrounding lava did nothing to sooth the soaring stinging in her eyes as she watches the man before her look behind her again. She hardly even notices when another man, a Jedi, passes her. As angry words were exchanged and she found herself losing focus, standing by the side as she watches the Jedi and the Sith duel to the death.

Her world just flipped its axis, leaving her body to adjust. Emotionally, physically. The biological reaction to meeting one’s soulmate was to release serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin, all chemicals in one’s brain responsible for happiness. But in this moment, those hormones were only adding to the increasing feeling of emptiness growing in her heart.

She had just watched her supposed soulmate turn to the dark side before her eyes. Choosing to assist the death of others rather than assist the quality of living for others. Everything [Name] and Naboo has ever help to fix in the senate could be destroyed in a snap of her own soulmate’s fingers.

How was she going to live her life know what she was tied to? Would he come back to the light? Would he die? Would she?

Or would she give up everything she has ever known for the chance of a life partner? Someone who will never leave her.

[Name] drops to her knees, a suppressed sob managed its way to the surface, bringing sharp tears from her eyes.

The famous Anakin Skywalker, former Jedi knight, [Name]’s soulmate, leaving tears in her eyes. And as she watches the blurry two duel, she finds that not only is there tears in her eyes, but also terror.

A/n: I got a little carried away with this, and it might have gotten a little off topic, but I hoped you liked it. I haven’t edited it yet, but I will get to it! Thank you so much for reading and waiting!!! <333333 Let me know what you think! Love y’all to the stars!

Master-list

Taglist: @luvlykrispy

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Restrained (Hunter x f!reader drabble)

Summary: Hunter finds himself tied up and at your mercy.

Warnings: fully filth y'all so minors begone; bondage, restraints, blindfolding, sensory play, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 478

A/N: shout out to Free for the impromptu mini-event. enjoy, babes

You'll never tire of seeing him like this.

The usually composed and stoic facade of the sergeant crumbles at your touch in an instant. His chest heaves with labored breaths, equal parts exertion and exhilaration, his toned arms bulging where he strains against the cuffs binding him to the bed. Ghosting your fingertips delicately up his thigh, tracing the skeletal tattoo, you delight in the deep, rumbling groan the action earns you.

"P-Please, mesh’la," he grits out, "don't be a tease."

"Oh but it's so much more fun when I am," you purr. To punctuate your point, you rake your nails down his flexed abs. The muscles jerk and twitch under your touch, and he squirms, whining.

You've been here before, Hunter restrained and you in charge, but this is the first time he's been willing to remove another facet of control. His bandana sits wrapped like a pretty bow around his eyes. Every new touch, every new sensation, makes him flinch first and moan second. You know from experience how little vision the makeshift blindfold allows; his other senses are working overtime, oversensitive.

Flattening your hands, you smooth over his hips. You shift on the bed until your mouth hovers above his leaking cock. You exhale a warm puff of breath, then flick your tongue out, catching a drop of pre-cum where it beads at the tip.

Hunter's hips jerk and the cuffs snap taut. "K-Kriff, yes."

Letting out a breathy laugh, you repeat the action, earning another stutter of hips up toward your face, and a heady whine.

"You're being so good for me," you murmur, lips barely skimming the velvet sponge of his tip.

"A-Always," he pants, "always for you, mesh’la."

You hum. "I think you deserve a reward."

Above you, he nods his head frantically, another whine tumbling from his lips. You pause to study him for a moment, relishing in the electric feel of control in your core; his skin is dewed with a fine sheen of sweat, a flush high on his cheeks, his lips parted and so fucking pink. A gush of arousal slicks your already sopping folds.

In that moment, you decide his reward.

"Mesh’la, what--"

Confused words are cut off as you nimbly clamber up his body and cant your hips down toward his wet and waiting mouth. He moans like a kriffing holoporn star and cranes his neck to kiss your cunt, his tongue licking a stripe up your folds and circling your clit. With a sigh, you settle your knees further out and lower to properly sit on his face.

"Fuck, thank you," he mumbles into you, and then the only sounds from him are feral groans and needy whines as he suckles, licks, and worships you to orgasm, the first of many for you both tonight.

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[xtraordinaryfangrl]

S3 Allison Hargreeves is NOT Canon!

—

I finally bit the bullet and watched Episode 5 of TUA S3 - the episode where Allison borderline SA’s Luther and I have no idea what the writers were thinking when they wrote that into the script.

Actually, no, that’s the problem! They weren’t thinking!

Up until that point, I was genuinely enjoying this season. The Sparrows were annoying but intriguing characters. The Diego and Stanley dynamic was everything and seeing him as a legit father in the final season will break my heart. I loved Viktor (or V, as I affectionately call them) and his transition as well as everybody’s reaction. Especially Allison’s, and her comradery with him in those first few episodes made me feel things. BITTERSWEET THINGS. Their relationship has always been so interesting to watch and I’ve grown fond of them as a duo despite the tension and angst they’ve displayed throughout the show.

I felt the desperation Allison had to get her daughter back, the way it boiled and bubbled up to rage. I understood her motive and empathized with her pain, even agreed with her and the rest of the Hargreeves pack on the Harlan situation. I could see her delving deeper into her “Wandavison Era” and I was ready to side with her on everything, then THAT scene happened.

Her relationship with Luther always creeped me out because of their romantic history. They were raised together before they got together and called the same man father - which is just another weird layer to the incest trope. She forces him to kiss her when she could have just… threatened to rumor him? Or at the very least show she could still control one thing at that moment by making him stand still?? That would have driven her point across just fine, WITHOUT Jedi mind-tricking a non-consensual sexcapade???

What’s worse about Allison’s character assassination is that she most likely doesn’t see anything wrong with what she did, and neither does Luther because like the doe-eyed himbo he is - he immediately skips off to see Sloan as if he’s the male lead in some early 2000s rom-com! They didn’t see an issue with what happened because the writers didn’t see an issue, and that’s MY issue with this.

Nowadays, no matter how a story is told, everything is up to the audience’s interpretation. But sexual manipulation, depression, and other important topics that real people experience should not be treated as an ambiguous “oh it can be taken multiple ways” plot point.

If St*ve Bl*ckman or whoever mapped out Allison’s S3 journey was a competent screenwriter, they would have refocused her contempt on The Sparrows. And if they REALLY wanted to make her past with Luther a central point, they could have put her “you’re blowing me off for some knockoff you’ve known for five minutes?” line to good use by making Sloan her target instead of Harlan.

—

I don’t know. This was a whole rant and maybe none of it makes sense. But aside from the few good things to come from S3 (such as V coming out as trans and Diego/Lila pre-parenthood shenanigans), nothing else happens. Any “canon storyline” after S2 is an acid-laced fever dream as far I’m concerned.

[kaminokatie]

We Meet Again || Darth Maul

Synopsis - It's been years since you had last seen him, but now you're fighting for the opposite side. Can Maul convince you to join him again after years of brainwashing from the Jedi?

Warnings - SFW.

Word Count - 0.9k.

[Caffeinate Me]

“You never even came to find me,” Maul hissed at you, red lightsaber clashing against your own green one. 

“I was told you were dead,” you snapped back. You twirled around and used the force to push Maul backwards giving yourself an opportunity to relax before he was swinging at you again. 

“You could have tried,” he growled. “Instead you joined what we swore to destroy together!” 

“I had no choice!” You said angrily. 

“We always have a choice Y/N,” Maul snapped. He was hurting inside. “You just chose wrong!” 

“If I knew you were alive, I would have done anything to find you,” you said, stepping backwards and turning off your lightsaber. Maul looked at you completely perplexed as you laid your lightsaber on the ground and held your hands up. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, still standing in a defensive stance. 

“Laying down my weapon, Maul,” you said simply. 

“But why?” He hissed. “Pick it up, I’m not through with you yet.” 

“Yes you are. I’m not fighting you anymore, Maul. If you want to kill me, go ahead.” 

Maul shook his head, retracting his lightsaber and staring at you with wide eyes. This had to be some sort of trick, something Kenobi had set up. Using you as bait was a low blow, but something he wouldn’t put past the Jedi. After all these years of working with the Jedi, you must have told them the details about the nature of your relationship with him. He placed his lightsaber back on his hilt and outstretched his hand to you. “Killing you would only kill me,” he whispered softly. “Take my hand. Join me once more.” You bit your lip, hesitated for a moment. You had spent the last few years of your life dedicating yourself to the Jedi after all the wrongdoings you had done by Maul’s side. After you learned of his ‘death’ you hoped you could put that life behind you, but with the Zabrak standing in front of you very much alive, you highly doubted yourself to turn him down. His yellow eyes gazed into yours and you felt your heartbeat pick up a few paces as Maul walked towards you, hand still outstretched. “Think about what we had Y/N.” 

“I am!” You snapped, taking a few steps backwards. “It wasn’t good for either of us.”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered, still stalking towards you. “You were my stars in the galaxy, the light that guided my way. Please, come with me. I need you. Please.” 

How could you deny him when he begged so deliciously for you and only you. You sighed and closed your eyes slowly for a few seconds while you thought long and hard about what you were going to do. Images from your past flashed through your mind; your time with Maul, the good and the bad. It clouded your senses and you were sure this was Maul’s doing. When you opened your eyes, Maul was standing directly in front of you. His breath, short and shallow, fanned across your face. His eyes pleaded to you silently. “What do you want from me, Maul?” You asked, knowing the answer was damn well you.

“You know what I want,” he whispered, leaning his face closer to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips skimmed your own, making their way to your ear. “I can’t live without you by my side any longer. Not after seeing you again.”

You felt your knees buckle at his words, despite how simple they were. You believed him too, knew he was being truthful. His hand grazed your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body. You willingly leaned into his touch. It had been years since someone had touched you the way Maul was touching you now, as if you were glass that could be broken with a simple flick of the wrist. “Maul,” you whispered, your chest rising and falling sharply with each breath you took.  

“I know,” he cooed, face moving to be in front of yours once more. Without warning, Maul pressed his lips to yours quickly. His warm hands came up to cup your face gently, pulling your face as close to his as possible. You stiffened as his lips connected with yours as the thoughts swirled around in your mind: what were you doing! You couldn’t let him get to you. Couldn’t let him ruin what you’d worked so hard for since you had last seen him, but it was too late, your arms had already instinctively wrapped around his neck. Maul smirked against your lips and deepened the kiss, his hands dropped to your waist and grasped at the fabric that separated him from your bare skin. When he pulled away from the kiss, Maul pressed his forehead against yours and sighed contently. “Join me, baby.” Your heart clenched at the pet name. Maul knew exactly what to say and do to turn you to the Dark Side and you hated that. You wished you were strong enough to resist him, but when he looked at you the way he was looking at you right now, you couldn’t say no. You nodded your head and Maul smirked. He moved his forehead away from yours and pressed a kiss to your right temple. “I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispered against your head, pulling you into a sweet embrace.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whispered into his chest. It was then that the tears welled in your eyes. All the emotions came flooding back to you, emotions that you had kept buried for years. Your place was by his side; you knew it and so did he. He wasn’t going to let you get away from him again, no matter what it took.