#star lord fic

[homoeroticfisticuffs]

since it is christmas eve today i am once again shamelessly promoting my christmas/new year's thorquill fic . enjoy

[frost-queen]

Join the dark side (Reader x Anakin Skywalker)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic  , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers , @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko  , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr   , @swampthing07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury ,  @imagines-by-her ,  @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @sweetheartlizzie07

Summary: Hello there! May the forth be with you. Reader is Padmé's sister. When Anakin has turned to the dark side, he and the empire demand your hand. You are against it, clearly having no say in it as Anakin demands it. Numerous times you try to run from him, arguing, cursing and hating him. Anakin claims you as his wife no matter what. One night you ask Anakin what made him turn to the dark side, feeling empathy for him once you finally understand it a bit more.

There was no denying the sudden shift in the galaxy. Jedi’s were falling and the Sith were taking over. Naboo wasn’t a place you could stay anymore. In a rushed way, you were packing your things. Throwing some dresses in a bag, knowing your sister would be waiting for you in half an hour at the secret passage. She needed a lot of convincing to leave Naboo. Being to headstrong into not wanting to leave the people.

But for now going in hiding would be the best solution. Surely against the empire. Panting loud, you hurried through your room to collect the most important things you needed. Half-way from where your bed was with the bag, suddenly opened your door. It made you freeze with panic, staring with wide eyes as men entered your room. They parted making way for Anakin Skywalker in all black.

“Anakin?”  -  you said confused. Anakin noticed the bag on your bag, making him glare your way. – “Seize her!” – he ordered. His order made you drop your item as the men rushed over to you. Each grabbing you by the arm. – “Anakin what is going on?” – you called out, scribbling against their grip.

Anakin approached you. A darker vibe surrounding him as you sensed it. The way he approached you seeming nothing like he was before. The men pulled at you, pushing you forwards to him. Anakin gave you a sweet smile, hands folded before him. Utterly confused and wary, you didn’t know what to expect.

“Are you going somewhere?” – he asked tilting his head back to look at the bag on your bed. – “What is it to you?” – you bit back. If it weren’t for the other men in the room, you might have reacted different. Yet the way he ordered them to handle you, had upset you too much.

Anakin chuckled humorously bringing one finger up to his lips. – “You are right Naboo isn’t save for you anymore.” – he said looking down at you. The tone in his voice made you swallow nervously. – “You’d be much saver with me.” – he added moving a bit more casual.

It made you furrow your brows as he moved his hand towards you, grabbing you by your chin. – “Marry me.” – he let out as your eyes widened in shock. You tore your face away to release his grip on you. – “Not a chance!” – you fired back. There had clearly something changed about him and you didn’t like one bit of it. Anakin inhaled sharp through his nose, grabbing your chin by force now. Wanting you to look him in the eye. – “That wasn’t a request!” – he made clear that you had no choice in it.

His gaze stern and colder than you had ever seen. Anakin tilted his chin up, looking down on you with a certain ego around him. – “Take her away!” – he ordered his men pushing your face to the side as he let go of you. The men he was with dragged you around him out of the door. – “No!” – you cried out, trying to fight them off. Leaning back and pulling at your arms to get them off you. They were strong as they kept their grip on you.

Looking over your shoulder, you stared at Anakin and the bag on your bed. Tears swelling up as you knew you’d never meet up with your sister Padmé now. Anakin watched you leave with a stern look, hands behind his back. – “Anakin please!” – you begged one last time before they pulled you out of your room, around the corner and out of sight.

You got dragged outside to a craft ship. – “No, no please… Padmé.” – you breathed out looking back as your sister would be waiting for you now. Not knowing what is happening to you. – “Princess!” – two guards came running outside having seen what was happening. The men that were holding you, stopped and turned you around to your guards. – “Release her at once.” – one of the guards called out. – “We will give the empire everything, but not our princess.” – the second one begged dropping to his knees.

You looked at the men holding you with panic. – “You have no right to take her!” – the first one remained determined and guarding. The second guard more beggingly. The hearing of a lightsaber getting active made you gasp loud. The red illuminating in the darkness behind them. The guard on his knees got up startled. The other one jumped frightened back. Your eyes widened with fear as Anakin emerged from the dark, swaying the red lightsaber around. The guards having no chance as they got killed.

Now it was clear as day that the Anakin you knew was gone. The dark side had claimed him as he was one of them now. – “Nooo!” – you cried sinking to your knees. Anakin got up, walking up to you with his lightsaber still in hand. He reached his hand out to you, making you sway your head aside, not wanting his touch on you. Anakin managed to place his gloved hand against your cheek, making you shiver out a breath. He smiled softly. – “I will never harm you Y/n.” – he spoke with politeness. – “You have my word for it.”

With a simple nod of him, his men pulled you up and dragged you onto the ship. The platform shut behind Anakin as he left Naboo for what it was. Needing nothing more of it. Certainly not now that he had what he wanted. What he had always wanted. You. The ship left, going into unknown galaxies for you. The men had knotted your hands together behind your back. Anakin came over once they flew in open space.

“I told them it wasn’t necessary.” – he said, kneeling down before you. – “The cuffs.” – he pointed at you, sounding a bit like his old self. – “They wouldn’t listen, but I know you Y/n.” – he added leaning over your shoulder to reach the cuffs. You heard the cuffs come off as Anakin came in sight again, smiling. The second your hands were free, you punched him against his cheek. Anakin groaned in pain, taking a second to recover.

He grabbed your shoulders with violence, pressing his fingers deep into your skin. You could see the anger in his eyes. Seeing how dominant it was. For a moment, you were truly terrified of him. Not knowing what he would do to you. Anakin then breathed out a laugh, catching you off guard. He took the cuffs again, securing your hands together in front of you.

Anakin got up, leaving your side once more. Lowering your head, there was no denying it anymore. You had no where to run. The ship boarded a floating base in the galaxy. The death star they called it. The guard pushed you forwards, being just a step behind Anakin. Your eyes wide with horror at the hundreds no thousands of stormtroopers on the platform.

You didn’t want to know how many of them roaming this place. There seemed to be little attention for you. Generals bowed their heads when Anakin walked past them. He came to a stop before a room as the door swished open. Anakin took you from the soldier by pressing his hand on your lower back. Pushing you into the room. – “Clean up, our wedding will be tonight.” – he said. You turned angered back at him.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” – you called out. – “No.” – Anakin answered cheeky. – “I hate you!” – you shouted punching your tied up hands against his chest. Anakin barely flinched. Only chuckling amusingly at your silly attempts. He took a step back, letting the door swish shut before him. Once he had left, you gasped when the cuffs fell to the ground.

There was a dress left out for you as you stormed over to it. Grabbed it and threw it on the floor. There was no way you would satisfy him with the pleasure of seeing you dolled up for him. You didn’t know how long you waited, but your door opened once more. A stormtrooper entering your room. – “Princess.” – he addressed you. – “You are coming with me.” – he said. You inhaled deep, chin up with pride as you walked up to him.

He had his blaster at his side as you eyed it. Once you were with him, he moved a bit aside to let you pass first. You stomped your foot on his, grabbing his blaster as you used the end to punch it against his armour. The stormtrooper grunted as he doubled over. Throwing the blaster away, you ran out of the room.

Not caring to where, you just needed to get out. Panting loud, you looked over your shoulder to see if he was following you. There rounded a curve as you ran to follow it, suddenly bumping into someone when you looked back to the front. A firm grip settling on your arm. Gasping loud, you looked up to Anakin, shaking his head. His gaze went down your clothing, seeing you hadn’t changed.

“No matter, you are beautiful anyways Y/n.” – he said making you scoff. – “You are delusional if you think I will marry you!” – you called out wanting his grip to be off you. Anakin chuckled. – “We’ll see Y/n… we’ll see.” – he breathed out pulling you along with him. He dragged you into a room. It was clear he wasn’t going to let you get out of it. So eager to marry you. Anakin walked with you up to the front. – “Charming.” – you responded sarcastically at the wedding view.

The base room with a large glass window overlooking the galaxy. The Sith lord sitting on his throne at the front. The first order standing up straight from behind their panels, saluting. He paused you in front of the Sith lord. You tried your last attempt of running off as Anakin was way ahead of you. He immediately grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back. You weren’t going anywhere.

The Sith lord laughed loud as you elbowed Anakin in the stomach to get him off your back. Anakin grabbed you hard by your arms, turning you to him. – “You will marry me!” – he ordered loud. – “I. would. Rather. Die.” – you answered in a slow pace to deliver your message. Anakin curled up a smile, your taunting only amusing him more. The Sith lord started to conduct the wedding as Anakin kept his grip on you.

“I do.” – Anakin said letting his thumb brush against your cheek. The Sith lord turned to you, waiting for your answer. Anakin stared back at you, ushering you to say the words. – “Asshole.” – you breathed out for only him to hear. – “What was that?” – The Sith lord asked confused. Anakin smiled before squeezing your arms tighter. – “SAY IT!” – he yelled out, forcing you to do so.

“Asshole!” – you repeated louder for everyone to hear. Anakin snapped wrapping his hand around your throat. It made you gasp loud, startled by his sudden violence. – “Say it!” – he asked again gently squeezing your throat as he brought your face closer to his. – “I…I…do…” – you forced with little air. Anakin let go of you, making you grasp for air.

The Sith lord declared you married as Anakin grabbed your chin. Pulling you at him as he soured your lips with his. Kissing you hungrily as you felt the control in his actions. He pulled away, smirking. – “My wife.” – he grinned making you roll your eyes at him. Trying to deny that his kiss might have flustered you. And with that the wedding was over. Married to Anakin that had turned to the dark side.

Ever since the wedding, you could hardly avoid Anakin. He was always there. Confusing you with his actions. Sometimes he was gentle and caring. Other times he was hard and rudely towards you. Acting to you like the master of the puppet that you were. Sometimes you could see his old self slip through. Other days the dark side inside of him took over. Slowly you started to open up to him.

Having always been forced together. You were in the bedroom sitting on the bed. The door swished open as Anakin entered. He walked up to the table, pouring himself a glass of water. – “Anakin may I ask you something?” – you proposed seeing him quirk his eyebrow up. He set the glass back down, coming to lean against the table. – “Of course my star.” – he replied. You shifted nervously on the bed, rubbing your palms together.

Anakin noticed how nervous you were, going over to you. He came sitting with you, taking your hands in his. – “What is it?” – he asked. You took a deep breath before speaking. – “May I know… I want to ask… how… why… why did you join the dark side?” – your words made Anakin tear his gaze away. Almost angered that you dared to ask something like that. You seated yourself better, placing your hands on his shoulders as he had turned his back to you.

“I just want to understand.” – you said shy. You felt his muscles untense under your palms. He slowly turned back to you, making you drop your hands on him. You listened as he explained what drove him to the dark side. Hearing him explain it, gave you a different view of him. Reasons you didn’t think would lead him up to this point. He kept explaining as you started to sympathize with him.

“Anakin I never knew…” – you started taking his hand. – “I finally understand it a bit, not fully, for I cannot. Yet I understand what that feeling is like. Feeling as if you are losing control over everything. Swirling into the despair and doubts. It would make you do everything.” – you continued. Anakin smiled at you, resting his palm against your cheek. Kissing you tenderly for your understanding. For all he ever wanted was to protect you. How didn’t matter, as long as you were his.

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[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[starlordsandrockets]

Take a Seat

pairing: Star-Lord/Peter Quill x reader

word count: 2k

summary: You and Peter have some drinks in the Milano's cockpit. This leads to you being strapped into his chair with your legs over his shoulders.

a/n: i'm riding out everyones Star-Lord high for as long as i can. so glad my fics from 4 years ago are finally getting notes lol

(also i didn't proofread so i apologize for any typos)

One of your many playlists hummed through the cockpit of the Milano as you stared out of the ship’s large window. A drink sat in your hand, the glass filled with a comically colored blue liquid, “What’s this again,” You somewhat slur, “Looks like windex, you trying to poison me,”

“And why would I do that, darling?” Peter questioned, “You said you liked blue raspberry, those fruity drinks,”

You turned your head, it spinned as your eyes attempted to focus on Peter, “Mhm,” You hummed, “but why do you get whiskey and I get this,” He made his way towards you, setting his glass down as he passed the low table.

“Because,” Peter spoke quietly before planting a kiss on your lips. His words smelled of whiskey as his rough kiss tasted bitter, “it makes your kisses sweet,”

“Aren’t they always?” You asked. You looked up at the outlaw through your mascara coated lashes, “Shit,” You muttered, realizing it has been another night since you forgot to take off your makeup, “my makeup,” You rubbed your eye, slightly annoyed.

“You look fine,” Peter spoke, “pretty,” He corrected as you stared back at him, “A really pretty girl,” He praised as you took a sip from your glass. A small laugh passed through your lips as you knew how the night would end based on Peter’s behavior, “What?”

“Nothing,” You lied. Focusing on your music, you began to sway to The Eagles as ‘One of These Nights’ hummed off of the metal cockpit. Peter’s hands found their way to your hips, attracting your eyes to your own body. The two of you had been shut away in Peter’s room, waiting for the others to retire to their own rooms. Since you joined the Guardians on sudden notice, there was no room for you on the ship. You did not mind sharing a room with Peter, however sometimes you longed for a space that was not so small and filled with Peter’s dirty laundry.

You were only wearing a large black, band t-shirt, Blue Oyster Cult to be specific, over a pair of black underwear. Peter was not complaining as his fingers slipped underneath the shirt’s rough fabric, falling on your soft skin, “Must feel nice to get out of my room,” Peter spoke, as if reading your mind, “Next stop I’m looking into getting you a seat,” he added, watching your eyes fall on the large seats that surrounded you.

“You mean I won’t be tossed around your room when you’re driving,” You teased, “What a relief,” Walking out of Peter’s hold, you studied his seat that sat in front of the large window before finishing off your drink, retiring the glass.

“Take a seat,” Peter instructed, watching your hands tracing the cold metal, “Might have to get you a smaller size,” He teased, seeing how much larger the chair was than you.

You almost fell into the large seat, the alcohol hitting you more than you thought, “This thing looks like a death trap,” You slurred, hands playing with the buckles that were placed there for safety. You watched as Peter took the buckles from your hands, his palms almost engulfing your fists.

Tossing the buckles to the side, the metal echoed through the pit. You watched as Peter placed his hands on the chair’s arms. His hips swung loosely as he stared down at you. Removing his dominant hand, he took hold of the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric up over your chest, exposing your skin. The cool air sent a chill up your spine as your nipples hardened at the change of temperature, “Quill-” You stuttered as Peter now proceeded to pull chair’s safety straps across your chest. The thick fabric crossed your body, allowing your breasts to be framed almost artfully. His hands now traveled to your knees, falling behind them, guiding your legs as he spread them apart, slowly, “Quill,” You repeated, watching him kneel before you.

Peter’s lips brushed your skin, barely honoring you with the much needed contact, “What darling?” He felt you squirm in his hold, not wanting to wait any longer for the contact you burned for, “Don’t look so desperate,”

“Shut up,” You pouted as Peter saw right through you, “you’re the one who made me the drink,” You spoke, knowing exactly how you get after a few drinks, “you probably did this on purpose,”

“Well… you get less pissed when you’re drunk,” Peter smiled, taking a sip from his glass, “but you also scream louder,” He added, placing his fingers under the elastic of your underwear.

“S-shut up,” You stuttered, struggling against the fabric straps, “Quill… what if someone comes out here,”

“Then I’ll have to be fast,” Peter spoke, pulling down the black fabric. Watching you struggle in front of him turned Peter on more than he wanted to admit. You were headstrong, always fighting back, so putting you in your place made him want to do so many things to you, “And maybe don’t be too loud then,”

Anxiety pained your chest but it equally excited you. You felt yourself grow wetter as you watched Peter sip on his whiskey between your spread legs. His chair was large, making you feel minuscule and submissive, “Then stop teasing me and hurry up,”

“And do what?” Peter pressed, slowly pulling the fabric down your thighs. Your underwear rolled down your skin in his large hands, “What do you think I’m gonna do to you? Whadda ya’ want me to do?” The whiskey drew out his accent, which went into your ears and straight between your legs.

“I want you to stop teasing me,” You answered before a whimper bubbled past your lips as the cold metal chair cooled the heat between your legs.

“S’no fun that way,” Peter admitted, his hands pulling your hips towards him as best as he could with how you were restrained. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he stared at the sight before him, “Fine. You’re dripping wet as it is, huh?” With a grin, he moved closer to you. He watched as your hips rocked towards him, begging for any sort of relief, “I think I teased you enough,”

Throwing your head back, it smacked against the heavy metal. Your eyes screwed shut, not only from the pain, but from your restlessness. You felt Peter’s hand trail from your knee, up your inner thigh. You whined at just how painfully slow his touch was as it neared your clit, “Quilllll,” You groaned, “Please,” You sucked in air between your clenched teeth as Peter’s thumb finally began to rub circles on your clit, “s-shit,”

Peter watch as his fingers ran through your wet folds, the slight sounds was orgasmic to him, “Fuck sweetheart,” You wiggled underneath his touch, making a smile curl his lips. A moment later, he brought his smiling lips to your clit. He planted a wet kiss before his tongue began to explore you, it ran through your folds and left wet trails on your inner thighs. His rough hands found hold on your plush skin, calloused fingers digging into your outer thighs. His flat palms snaked to your ass, holding it as his tongue worked you.

Your attempts to hold back the moans that were crawling up your throat failed, whimpers passing through your pressed lips. You were terrified that someone would walk into the cockpit at any moment and see you strapped to Peter’s seat with his skilled tongue working between your spread legs. However, the thought also turned you on slightly.

“Let them hear you,” Peter spoke, realizing your struggling above him, “Maybe if they hear how good I’m making you feel they’ll stay in their rooms,”

“Q-Quill,” You stuttered, however your tone was stern. Your lips returned to a pressed line, afraid a moan would pass through your parted lips. Your attempt did not last long as Peter found the rhythm that you loved, “f-fUck,” You moaned, volume louder than you wished to admit.

“There you go,” Peter coaxed, his tone praising. One of his fingers unexpectedly entered you, pumping in and out at the perfect pace. He paired the slow finger fucking with a faster pace from his tongue, making you grow close to climax without warning.

“I’m… I’m so-so close,” You moaned, struggling behind your restraints but Peter only hummed back in response, the action vibrating against your clit slightly, “Ffffuck,” You moaned, “I’m gonna cum,”

“What was that sweetheart?” Peter questioned, pulling his head out from between your legs, his finger picking up the pace and attempting to keep your orgasm at the brink.

“I’m so close… please,” You studied his expression, knowing exactly what he was waiting for, “S-Star-Lord,”

With an overconfident smile, his lips returned to your clit, planting a wet kiss before he brought you to your climax.

“Fu-fuck- I’m-” You moaned, hips rocking towards his tongue. You matched his pace as your eyes screwed shut, feeling yourself reach the high you had been chasing.

Now comes the part you always dreaded.

You felt Peter keep his pace on your sensitive clit, overstimulating you. You whimpered, unable to flee him as he overworked you.

Once Peter was satisfied, he leaned back onto his heels, “How was that?” He questioned you, watching your eyes slowly open, brows un-furrowing, “Want your own chair? Or do you just like mine?”

Your heated skin was cooled slightly by the chair’s metal as you shifted in the large seat. Your chest rose and fell as you attempted to catch your breath, a small smile curled the ends of your lips, “I… I think I’d like a chair,” You spoke as Peter began to free you, “But only if we can do this again in my own chair,”

“Of course,” Peter laughed slightly, “I’ll make a call in the morning,” His voice echoed off the walls as the two of you realized the music had stopped humming through the Milano.

“I think we should go back to your room,” You spoke, wondering just when the music had stopped and your moans started. Peter shot you a glance, “I think I need a break before we do anything else,” You laughed.

“You can take all the time you need, I can wait,” He took your hands, helping your shaking legs off of the large chair, “So like… twenty minutes?” He somewhat joked as he led you towards his room.

[alrightbuckaroo]

it's okay. we're okay.

the teeniest tiniest character study brought on by this post by the wonderful @lonestardust and partly inspired by a conversation with the amazing @reyesstrand <3 also credit to the divider <3

“Hey, hey,” TK’s voice is quiet, calm, as it pierces through the silence.

Though, it’s not really silent. No, right now Carlos is surrounded by a symphony of chatter and rattle. Frantic voices overlapping, the unmistakable sound of pressurized water, and his own brain blaming him for the incompetence that led them here.

Then TK’s calling him baby and the world falls still. TK’s running his hand up and down Carlos’ arm, reminding him that he’s not in the throes of a nightmare and TK’s right here. He’s right. Here.

Carlos stumbles through an attempt at an apology before TK is pulling him in even tighter. Carlos plants his chin in the crook of TK’s neck, breathing in the scent of the man of his dreams because it means he won’t be smelling smoke.

“It’s okay,” TK whispers, his voice delicate like saying the wrong thing might cause the moment to shatter. “We’re okay.” He presses a kiss to Carlos’ temple, and though it’s chaste, it’s kind, it’s soft.

Carlos feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest; that is if he didn’t drop it somewhere on the tarmac.

Then, TK confirms the blood on his shirt isn’t his own and that he’s okay. Carlos waits for his breath to catch up before he’s confirming with, “You’re okay?”. He asks the question as if it’s a plea, as if he’s begging.

TK grabs Carlos’ face in both of his hands. His loving, faithful hands. He answers Carlos’ plea with a kiss brought on by warm, plush lips that remind Carlos of home. He draws back and continues to hold Carlos’ face with steady hands. “We’re okay.”

Carlos nods before wrapping his arms around TK even tighter. He just got him back, he can’t fathom the thought of losing him again. TK’s fingers tighten their grip around Carlos’ jacket, reminding him that he’s not going anywhere.

Just like all those months before, TK presses a kiss to his temple. Again, it’s chaste, it’s kind. It’s soft.

Carlos’ world is crashing down on him. All he wants to do is marry the man he loves but his own cowardice is putting that to a halt. He looks up at TK with red-rimmed eyes and a pathetic smile, “I’m a terrible friend.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” TK ushers out, his voice hushed the same way it was as Carlos’ apartment turned to ash. TK captures Carlos’ face in his hands and Carlos can feel something inside of him hitch. TK’s always delicate with him. “No you are not.”

Carlos must look like he doesn’t believe him because he repeats himself. “No you are not, okay?” He falls quiet, waiting for Carlos to agree; needing Carlos to agree. Carlos barely nods, but TK catches it. Of course he does, he always promises to catch Carlos whenever he falls.

“You’re an incredible friend,” TK reassures him, his thumb gently gliding over the soft skin of his cheek. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

TK gives him a watery grin and Carlos can’t help but think he must look like he believes him.

Life washes over Carlos like a wave. Building upon itself before eventually crashing against shore. His eyes open with bottled pressure, perceiving the golden light casting through Trudie’s kitchen like they’re rays of Heaven.

Carlos gets a glance at TK and he can’t tell if he’s been brought back from death or if Heaven is just this sweet. He really hopes it’s the former, he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.

Then, TK, beautiful, amazing, too good for this world, TK, is holding his face in his hands and Carlos knows. He’s not just alive; he’s not just breathing. He’s okay.

They’re okay. 

They always will be. 

[sun-snatcher]

✷ ― THE SWORD TREE

Near the close of the Third Age, Celebrían & Maedhros establish a re-wilding sanctuary in Valinor, to help elves fleeing strife in Middle-Earth recover & rebuild their lives.

My fanart take on the phenomenally written fanfic by @balrogballs exploring grief, atonement, and healing. Drew this between tears; highly recommend having a sit-down and tea with this story!

[luckyartdrawer]

(Bitter) Sweet! Art & Drabble

For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list! There's still plenty of time before the first prompt is due (Jan 12th), and there's 2 other prompts as well for the month! Definitely check it out lovelies! <3

Drabble name: Instability Of The Heart Contents: Sun x reader, Heavy Pinning, Bitter Sweetness Chosen Words: Clouds, Opals, Celebration, Star-crossed, Letting Go, Hope, Candle Word Count: 1,625

(Close Ups are also at the bottom <3)

It’s been a whole year…

Unsure how to approach the festivities now, Sun decided to find a quiet spot instead, spending all morning setting things up to participate in his own way. He couldn't not join in, but it just wouldn't be right to go back into the thick of it either.

The not-too-far-off town square, only a mile below his expanse of cloud, is alive in the lieu of celebration. The live orchestra plays the same casual songs, their passion dying the expanse of clouds they rest upon pink with their infectious energy, and the music drifts up clear as day to his ears despite the distance. The community brightens at each strum of a chord, chatter so lively that they create lyrics to their own song. They all are so alight that even once the sun sets, not even a single candle will be necessary to keep the festival bathed in a warm glow.

Sun sighed as he looked towards his namesake, feeling both relief and dread seeing it only moved a little since he last checked, located slightly past the center of the sky above him. Any moment now the square should clear its center and engage in its Hearthwarming Dance.

A spark crackles in his chest, sending longing pangs to his heart and head. It swirls through the burning magma and dips through every ligament, the tips of his fingers and toes buzzing with the itch to do something.

He turns to his partner, waiting for the first note of the new song to swell before grabbing their soft hand and whispering,

“May I have this dance?”

Without his usual banter, Sun embraces them and sways to the familiar beat without hesitation.

Upon closing his eyes, he is suddenly not dancing on a patchy field of clouds, but rather upon a lively opal plaza shimmering in the warm sunlight; the polished stone reflecting all those lovely pink clouds to create a mosaic, speckled with a rainbow of beautiful color.

Yet, the way you shined changed everything. It had completely ruined his view of beauty.

Your smile glistened through the sheer cloud of stardust that orbits around your form. Your eyes were as hypnotic as the ring of light you absorb, blindingly white before turning into a pitch black that's impossible for him to comprehend. He could barely even remember what you wore that day, too busy memorizing your face.

You were a star that had gone supernova, a rarity unseen for the last 3 centuries, let alone for a star of your kind.

Even the thought of your imagery causes him to inhale sharply. He clutches at his partner tightly, mindless of the give as he steps around in a traditional dance.

You were so scared when the change happened all those months ago...

Sun had found you holed up in your dark room, begging him to not look at you. He had initially come over to barge down your door for being an hour late to meet him, only to find your home was unlocked. It wasn't too unusual, so he welcomed himself inside, used to doing so after years of friendship.

His bitterness over how you kept him waiting for so long evaporated at finding your tearful state, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for your usual wear and voice.

He's still ashamed to say that he was enraptured by you despite the state you were in.

You were a glimmering dwarf star before, enchanting enough as is, and yet somehow you turned into something even more bewitching, compounding his years of desire into something even stronger. It felt right. Not to see you sad, but to see you in that form. Everything about it felt like you. The pull was indescribable in every step he took, the very essence of you invading his senses.

As soon as he recounts reassuring you, drying your tears, and pulling you into a hug; he snaps back to having you in his arms in the light of day, grasping his right hand and prancing with ease across the square, expertly avoiding other participants.

The magnetic pull is intense, the need to somehow get closer and closer was nearly impossible to ignore. He wanted to run away from such a force, yet he only clutched your hand tighter as he spun you, pulling your back into his chest and locking you there for a beat too long.

He was so afraid that you could read his every move, regardless of knowing your sheer obliviousness to his desires.

You always playfully indulged his yearly insistence of being your dance partner, yet nothing had come of it from either side. But this time, his gaze was constantly locked with yours, unable to break contact. His possessive grip had ensnared you, barely leaving even an inch between you. He couldn't help but pause, disregarding the mass of bodies moving around him, wanting to hold you forever.

How could it not be obvious?

Regardless, he knew it was inevitable he'd spill out his soul to you soon, barely able to restrain his lips from colliding into yours at that very moment.

He hoped, he prayed, he begged like a mantra to the celestial mother that you'd feel the same. That this magnetism isn't so one sided. That restraint would one day be unnecessary and he'd finally be able to drink in the flavor of your kiss.

Only mere seconds had passed when he released you from his hold, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Perhaps to you, nothing did happen.

Would that explain what had happened?

He spent that whole day with you, following you to vendors with traditional carbon foods and indulging in your proximity as you'd graze hands and bump shoulders on occasion, finally left comfortably alone as the town's people were accustomed to your new appearance by then.

He was more than happy to scoop you up the moment you said you were getting tired and overwhelmed. You insisted that you didn't want the fun to end, but he could tell by the sound of your voice that you at least needed a change of pace.

The sun was setting when he leapt up stray puffs of clouds to the field above the plaza. He pranced in circles, leaping gaps to the dying beats of music, and teasing about dropping you through them when you didn't believe he could cross. Your rivers of laughter only fueled his audacity, as he never wanted to hear them end. Inevitably, his foot barely slipped off the edge of one of his more daring jumps, causing the two of you to fall forward and collide with the cloud beneath you.

Despite the grunt the two of you made at the impact, you were quick to laugh at Sun’s failure, teasing him about his cockiness biting him in the behind.

But Sun couldn't ignore the press of his body on top of yours, the echoing melody of your voice ensnaring his throat, refusing to allow him to even draw breath, let alone words. His mind fogged over, the only reprieve to his pinning troubles all pointed towards you, and he desperately needed that relief.

Your lips were more delicious than he could have ever dreamed of, your endearing expression was wide eyed and glowing.

Glowing so much that he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to recuperate, despite how much he wanted to savor your appearance.

And then with a fluttering blink, he's back in the present, kneeling down in the same position over some sad facimally of you. The cloud he molded this morning was mangled already from his delusions, but due to his fall it had melded into the cloud below it, its pink color feeling more taunting than sweet.

Sun looked down at his hand to find a tiny piece of said cloud still in it, a tear welling up in his eye.

It was too fitting.

In that original moment, it was as if you dissolved right in his arms after that kiss, but he refuses to believe anything bad happened. He searched your home, your favorite places, and even contacted your friends and family. No one knew where you were.

Some believed you to be dead after he finally admitted what happened between the two of you.

He vehemently denied that possibility, despite the plausibility. You were barely older than he was, still spry with centuries of life ahead of you. You couldn't just die from a kiss…

The only spark of hope he was given was when he questioned one of the elder Neutron stars, one of whom recalled personally knowing a singular supernova; one who had been taken suddenly to a world beyond the sky to contain their unstable make up. They had returned only once to explain their departure, before saying goodbye for their next one shortly after.

Sun brought the small puff of cloud to his lips – it should have been your hand.

He couldn't repress the tear that escaped him.

It's been a year since your disappearance. He still hasn't given up on his star-crossed lover, if he may even call you that. Your sudden departure left him wanting, stagnant, unsure of so many things.

If you reciprocated, wouldn't you have come back to him by now..?

Overtime, many have caught onto his depressed demeanor and advised him that it's best to learn to let go.

Preaching that waiting is fruitless.

Denouncing the Neutron’s tall tale of some magical plain snatching you away.

Scolding Sun for ruining his life over some runaway star.

However, he cannot help it; you own all the hope he has left. As he is unfortunately, completely, woefully in love with you.

Close Ups!

[marvelmcumania]

SPOTIFY?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Fem Reader

Summary: You introduce Peter to Spotify.

Note:Okay my first Peter Quill drabble? IDK I tried cute and all hehe and this not a promo for spotify English is not my first language Do not repost Feel free to reblog and let me know your thoughts

Navigation | Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist |Peter Quill Masterlist

You met Peter during his welcoming party from space it was weird cause his Grandpa said they had lost him since he was a child, but weirder word had left when an alien attack happened and he was a part of them.

"So you fought a purple giant alien?" you asked him warily, drinking your mimosas

"Yes, I was a part of it" You nod giving him a smile he has been so handsome from that day you two became great friends he shared with you about his time in space and why he was kidnapped.

"So your dad wanted you and he was a freaking planet?" Peter's story got weirder day by day you both were sitting in a cafe.

He nods gulping his coffee "You heard that right after my mom died" he pauses for a moment his face changing and you keep your hand on his "And then I ran away a spaceship came and took me the person who took me was a real father to me even though I screamed David Hasselhoff is my dad" he chuckles and then continues the story of how Yondu saved him from creepy ravagers to sacrificing himself and how his father was killer of his mom.

Much later he talked about the love of his life who was sacrificed for the soul stone when questioned about the stone he replied saying it was another long story and that the present one is dead but her old version is living which again was for another story.

After having more talks Peter and you started deciding on dating giving it a try since your shitty exes. Now you both were cuddling on the sofa scrolling through your phone and showing him the latest technology although he had used the advanced one that too in space.

"Hey hey wait what is that?"

"What?"

You swipe the phone"The green icon?" he says pointing towards it.

"Ah, this" you clicked on it "This is Spotify a music app" Peter's eyes widened looking at it.

"So we don't use those music players?" You shook your head smiling at him.

"No, but we can see the lyrics also you need to buy premium" He cocks his eyebrows at you "Yep they added weird features but hey the app is fun except for them stopping being greedy."

He nods taking the phone from you and you start teaching him how to use the app he is excited that now people have no worries about the wires sticking but the fun with it the old ones was different.

Taking your hand he puts on the music and then spends the day enjoying dance and music and soon finding love for each other

[demitheweirdo]

every time i read a pon farr fic it’s prefaced with a self deprecating comment like ‘oh golly gee look, another pon farr fic like there’s not enough of those’

my friend!!! there can never be too many!! keep writing them please!!!

[homoeroticfisticuffs]

aaaaaaand it's posted !!!!!! not linking here directly because it's nsfw, but you know where to find it!!! enjoy :)

i have SOOOO so many fic wips on my google docs now that i'm actually looking through them.... good heavens i need to finish all these. maybe i will work on that sometime soon

anyways i'm hoping to post starmora tonight! finished it a couple months ago and forgot to put it up. so expect that sometime soon

[twinklerei]

So- I was writing my fic, which I wont enter in too much details, but I was thinking, in this Au where Padme lives, and Obi Wan thinks he killed Anakin in mustafar and he doesnt know he is alive as Vader, obviusly Padme thinks the same, that her husband died in mustafar by Obi Wan Kenobi.

So idk how to characterize this, would Padme have resent to Obi Wan for "killing Anakin"? Like I know she knows that he falled to the dark side and that- but in her last words she thinked that there still was good in him, so I dont think she would want him to die- but- Im confused and idk what to do.

Please writers and readers, help this is important for the fic.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Hunger

(1-1)

Short story # 28

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - You witness Maul gorge for the first time after he's gone two days without food.

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 4 minutes

Year posted - 2025

This is just a silly little one that was actually inspired by a video of a dog I witnessed recently... Enjoy.

"Welcome back." (Y/n) hummed with a small smile, greeting Maul as he returned to the palace. He grumbled as he passed her, clearly grumpier than usual. (Y/n) didn't take it to heart knowing that Maul often was in a more sour mood than usual, when coming back from an unsuccessful mission. "I took the liberty of having dinner prepared early today." She stated as she followed him through the near empty halls of the palace. Maul froze mid stride, slowly turning his head to observe his dutiful advisor. "Would you care to join me?" She asked with a knowing look, certain that he would be more interested in eating, than brooding in the throne room. Without a word Maul turned down the hall leading to the dining hall, and (Y/n) trailed behind him happily.

Once inside the dining hall, Maul growled at the sight of the large table nearly filled, with a large array of food. (Y/n) took her usual place at the table, smiling at the evident excitement Maul seemed to be feeling. Quickly he filled his awaiting plate, and dug into his food without so mach as waiting for formalities. Maul barely chewed his food before swallowing and cramming more into his mouth. "When was the last time you ate something?" (Y/n) asked as she observed him eating more savagely than she'd ever seen before. Maul froze for a moment, food clutched in the palms of his hands. He swallowed what was in his mouth, and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Two moons." He said before gorging on the food in both hands. "Maul you can't be serious! My Lord you have enough rations on your ship to last nearly a year!" (Y/n) gasped in astonishment, finding it incredibly hard to believe he didn't have access to food. Mauls glowing eyes were piercing as he looked at her, a deep growl rumbling in his chest.

"Lord Maul if you are not going to take care of yourself during your missions, I feel that it is my responsibility to join you to ensure you are well taken care of." (Y/n) huffed at him, knowing that when he is set on a goal, he disregards everything else until the job is done. "It's to dangerous." Maul grumbled between mouthfuls. "Well either you need to start taking better care of yourself, or train me how to defend myself." (Y/n) stated as a matter of fact. Maul looked at her with incredulous look. "Am I not the Lord here?" He asked in a deadpan voice. "Yes well you're going to get yourself killed, if you don't start taking better care of yourself." She argued, and Maul huffed in annoyance. Although his growl in response was hard to take seriously, as he sat with food smeared across the lower half of his face. "Fine." Maul grumbled before again taking two hand fulls of food, and continuing to gorge himself to the point that (Y/n) feared he might make himself sick.

[acliptika]

from the most stupid recess of my mind, I present *this*

[gloomwitchwrites]

GloomWitch 3.5k 3.7k 3.8k Follower Event: Spooky Bingo

Yeah, yeah. I know it says 3.5k. But that has come and gone. There's almost 4k of you now. Wild. Absolutely insane. I told myself that after the 1k event, the next milestone would be 3.5k. We're here folks! In fact, we're past it! Thank you so much for all your support. I hope you enjoy the lovely little event I’ve put together.

For quick navigation and filtering, "#gloomyevent" is the event tag.

Event Status: Closed

Requests will start posting on 10/1 (full schedule is below the break as requests come in).

Event Details, Rules, Examples, and the Masterlist can be found below!

Rules:

Non-anon asks only. Taken prompts cannot be repeated. Available slots will be updated below. You can also double check before submitting.

Submit your request via the ask box.

Please choose from one of the following fandoms: Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Star Wars, Skyrim, Call of Duty (age appropriate characters only).

I have the right to deny any request.

Make sure to clarify that the request is for this event. My ask box is always open and you don’t want to be lost in the mess.

Be as vague or specific as you want. Be clear on spice level (if you want any). Vague requests will get writer's creative choice.

Prompts can be interpreted as straight horror, dark comedy, spooky, spicy, or multigenre.

Example Request:

Can I request [insert prompt & info here] for the 3.5k follow event?

For Spooky Bingo, could I request [insert prompt & info here]?

Event Status: Closed

Masterlist / Prompts:

Summon a Demon: Darth Maul (Star Wars) Hansel & Gretel: Gaz and/or Soap (CoD) - 10/15 Zombie AU: Task Force 141 (CoD) - 10/21 Haunted House: Thorin Oakenshield (The Hobbit) - 10/13 Stalker AU: Thorin Oakenshield (The Hobbit) - 10/4 Witch AU: Simon "Ghost" Riley (CoD) - 10/12 Chased Through a Corn Maze: John Price (CoD) Targeted by a Serial Killer: Aragorn (LotR) - 10/22 Body Horror: Captain Rex (Star Wars) Cult Sacrifice: Thranduil (The Hobbit) - 10/11 Picked Up a Hitchhiker: Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) - 10/16 Eldritch Horror: Ahsoka (Star Wars) Free Space [Any Spooky Idea]: Simon “Ghost” Riley (CoD) Vampire AU: Thranduil (The Hobbit) Trick or Treating: John "Soap" MacTavish (CoD) - 10/9 Liminal Spaces: Kylo Ren (Star Wars) - 10/7 Graveyard Keeper AU: Simon "Ghost" Riley (CoD) - 10/1 Imaginary Friend: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (CoD) - 10/5 Haunted Carnival: Simon "Ghost" Riley (CoD) Halloween Prank Gone Wrong: Merry & Pippin (LotR) - 10/23 80’s Summer Camp Slasher: Simon "Ghost" Riley (CoD) - 10/3 Haunted Hayride: Lord of the Rings Abducted by Aliens: Task Force 141 Werewolf AU: John Price (CoD) - 10/8 “Because You Were Home”: Star Wars

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno

@glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67

@tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82 @lulurubberduckie

@leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @thetaekwondofeline @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @eternallyvenus @sadlonelybagel

@haven-1307 @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @padawancat97 @garfunklevibes2012 @thepetitemandalorian @mrsdurin

@kylies-love-letter @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lovely-ateez @arrozyfrijoles23

bingo board made using Canva

[stars-in-my-damn-eyes]

Went insane w the compulsion to illustrate (inasfar as it is ‘illustration’ when you very visibly leave the sketch in… semantics?) from The Last Will and Testament of Cazador Szarr by @abigailmoment bcos it gave me brainworms so intense i momentarily became capable of picking up a pen recreationally. This dialogue is taken directly from ch2 of the story :D

Gale’s robe is heavily referenced from this piece by jazzyjellojojo, whose rendition of the unfortunate reluctant vampire lord gale is inimitable and amazing!

Bonus version w no speech bubbles under the cut: