#star lord fic

[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

[ninthcircleofprythian]

GOLD STAR FOR YOU

Acotar Crack Headcanons

In which Reader introduces gold star stickers in the bedroom. Reader x everybody. Poly type deal. And it is most definitely a competition. There are sticker charts. Gold prize - for the male with the most stickers? A week alone with reader. No interruptions. No sharing.

(This crack list is brought you especially by the shared brain rot with @chairofchaos . Please enjoy our devolution into smut headcanons that tonight has brought us.)

Azriel:

Confused at first

When he realizes he’d be SO into the competition element

So competitive

“How many does this get me” as he’s just pounding

“And this?”

It devolves because you stop being able to give him stickers

“What about this, baby? What if you can’t walk tomorrow? How many stickers do I get then?”

You can’t do a damn thing about it as the sticker sheets fall from your hand

But when you’re done

The two of you curled up together

You take the whole sheet and start giving him stickers, one by one

He’s smirking as you line them up in rows along his chest and arms

Then you finally put one on his nose, grinning as you recall the feeling of his head between your legs

“It was that good, huh? Maybe we’d better try to one up ourselves. See how many stickers I earn from you then.”

Helion:

Catches on quickly

He goes out that day to buy his own sticker sheets

Likes to give them to you too

Gives himself gold stars for how often he can make you moan

“Yep… that’s another one FOR ME”

Gives zero fucks about the overall competition

He just likes being in competition with himself

Puts the stickers on his nipples like pasties with a shit eating grin

Eris:

You reach back to place a sticker on his thigh

He stills immediately

When you explain it, he’s so hurt about being interrupted

“What the fuck? What is this childish game?”

“Do not place your shiny sticker on me, woman.”

“I am doing sexy things here – leave me be”

He peels it off his thigh, sticks it on the small of your back and keeps going

He still kisses the star when he’s done

“So the stickers are a no?”

He’d sigh and kiss your forehead

“Just tell me first next time. I don’t like surprises.”

Cassian:

Has monkey brain - is super into it

“STICKERS? SAY LESS”

Adds his own prizes to the mix

Is competitive but really just cares about making you feel GOOD

The stickers and prizes are just a bonus.

Walks around shirtless just to show off his stickers

“These are my rewards! Don't you like them?”

He has a sticker chart on the back of the bathroom door where he collects his stickers at the end of each day.

Eventually he just starts sticking them to random things around the house - mirrors, his daggers, the kitchen cabinets.

Lucien:

You give him a sticker on the forehead during oral

his little mechanical eye like gleams at you as he SMIRKS

he’s like 'hmm what's this?"

He takes one off the sheet and does his little smirk and the star just GLOWS

he sticks it on you down there

because he LOVES TO EAT

gives a little predatory grin as he crawls over you to move to the next thing

Tamlin:

Gets distracted by you placing the sticker on his shoulder

Pauses mid thrust

“No no dont stop”

“What… what is that?”

“It’s a sticker. You’re doing a good job. Keep going”

“... what?”

He’s so confused

He doesn’t keep moving

You take the sticker back - “You stopped moving. You stop. You lose the sticker.”

He does NOT like the stickers

“Please put them away.”

He’s very butthurt over losing his only sticker

Immediately flaccid

Rhys:

Isn’t a part of the competition

That male is interested in Feyre and Feyre ONLY

Hears about the competition from Azriel

Immediately goes to Feyre

“We need to buy gold star stickers.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Darling. Gold. Stickers.”

Your next visit to the river house becomes an adventure of finding all the places where the two of them left stickers while Rhys grins and Feyre rolls her eyes with a laugh

Your favorite find is under the tablecloth, where it’s next to a golden paint smear

“We recreated our mating night for the anniversary,” Rhys whispers to Cassian conspiratorially

He’s intentionally loud enough for all of you to hear

He doesn’t really understand the rules 

He just likes the idea of putting the stickers everywhere him and Feyre fucked so he can show off.

[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.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[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.)

[loveoaths]

force sensitive!din is cool, but imagine how funny the reverse would be. force negative!din. his very presence is actively hostile to the force. jedi can’t track him because he simply does not show up on their radars. you try to force throw him and he just stands there like 🧍🏻‍♂️. being around him as a force sensitive person is like entering a cellular dead zone. there are no signals going in or out. grogu’s rapid force development happens because being around din and then leaving with luke was the jedi equivalent of rock lee removing his ankle weights and beating gaara’s ass. if the force is a telephone wire, din is the fucking boulder stapled to it. his very presence causes a vacuum in the force that the universe tries to correct by throwing more force at it, which is why the man suddenly can’t walk without running into a jedi these days. force negative!din, y’all.

[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.

[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!!!

[sorinethemastermind]

The Final Rite

In which Soren grapples with his father's sacrifice.

 

Soren hadn’t told anyone where he was going. It had felt selfish, somehow. Or like something to be ashamed of. But now, standing outside the ruins of the castle. Of his home. He suddenly wished he had brought company.

 But who would have wanted to accompany him on this task, anyway?

 And was it really a task, when no one had asked it of him?

 He took a deep breath, feeling it catch in his throat, and not from the smoke this time. Somewhere in the rubble before him lay Vir- his father's body. Broken and charred, pierced through the heart just like when he'd-

 Soren stepped into the courtyard and began combing through the rubble. He was exhausted, and with each stone he turned over his arms shook. What were all those workouts for if he couldn't even lift a rock?

 But it wasn't just the physical strain, he knew. With every overturned stone there was a greater chance that he would actually find him. Crumpled beneath a piece of fallen masonry, charred beyond recognition. Or, possibly worse, protected from the fire and undeniably recognizable as the man who had raised him.

 Discarded him.

 Hurt him.

 Been proud of him.

 Died for him.

 Soren didn’t know how to reconcile all the men his father had been inside his head. Didn't know how the same man who had played with him as a child could have become the one who marched into Xadia with an army. Or how that man could possibly be the same one who had looked at him in the dungeon and said that he had already taken enough. That it was his turn to offer Soren his heart.

 He didn't want to reconcile it. He didn't want to think about it or feel any of this. It was easier to hate him than... than whatever this was. Not love, surely?

 He didn't deserve it. Not after everything he had done. And yet...

 The moon was high overhead when Soren finally reached the area under the tower where Viren had cast the spell. Some part of him had been avoiding it, knowing that it was most likely where he would be. But this was why he'd come here, wasn't it? Snuck away from the camp in the middle of the night. Stowed away like this wasn't the home he had almost died to protect. Had offered to die for, and been denied that right.

 Maybe he should be grateful, but he wasn't. Or he was, but that gratefulness hurt so much he wished he wasn't.

 Some of the rocks had already fallen away and it didn't take much to find the body, just where he'd imagined it would be. And... just how he'd imagined it would look.

 It had been all he'd been able to picture all day. Setting up the tents, gathering supplies, carrying wounded to the hospital. In the back of his mind, no matter what he'd been doing, there had been the image. The image of Vir- his father standing there on the balcony, facing the dragon. Of the fire filling the courtyard until he couldn't see anything more. Of his skin turning to charcoal and his veins glowing like magma under the surface.

 For just a moment there, standing before the dragon with his staff raised high above his head, Viren had looked like the man Soren once believed him to be. And while at first he had been horrified as the spell washed over him, brought back to another mountaintop from two years ago, the warmth seeming to radiate out from his chest had meant something else, too. It had meant that what his father had said in the dungeon was true. Something, Soren didn't know what, but something had changed.

 He hadn't been lying. He had been proud.

 And what had he done? He’d yelled at him, run away from his father then. And now? Soren pushed the last bits of rubble away and pulled his father's body from the wreckage of their home.

 Now he would bury him.

 The trek to the Valley of Graves was a long one, winding through the entirety of the city of Katolis. Fires still smoldered on some of the houses lining the road, flickering like candlelight. Soren made the solemn walk alone, cradling Viren's limp body in his arms. His father was light and frail, two words he never would have associated with the man in life.

 The first tinges of sunlight were visible as he finally reached the end of the road and walked between the cliffs and their statues of kings and queens, great and gone. But there was another, newer grave alongside them.

 Soren stopped and stared up at the great bones of the dragon. They had felled it after all. Not that it mattered. He didn't want to look at it.

 Turning his back to the great beast, he crossed to the other side of the valley and laid his father on a patch of empty soil. Some might call it sacrilege to bury Viren here, among the great warriors of the kingdom of Katolis. But Soren didn't know where else to go. He didn't want him to rot away, forgotten and reviled, in the woods. Or to remain trapped in the still smoldering ruins of their home.

 Even villains deserved peace. If that was what he was.

 Soren drew his blade and set to work. His sword didn't make a very good shovel, but he persevered, hacking away at dirt and stone until his arms shook from overexertion and his breath came in ragged pants. He stuck it into the ground and leaned against it, struggling for air.

 In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

 His father’s words echoed through his mind as he finally managed to fill his lungs with enough air to straighten up and look over what he’d done. The sun up. People would be noticing he was missing soon. But he had a job to do. He would not leave his father here, abandoned. Whether he deserved to rest alongside these heroes of the realm or not, he would.

 Soren raised the blade above his head and brought it down again.

 He was in the courtyard, hiding behind the great oak tree that had lived there for centuries. His father shielded his eyes from the sun. "Now where could my little golden boy have gone?"

 Dirt and rocks were chipped away. He raised it again.

He was sitting on the floor before the hearth, his mother's hand resting on his head and Claudia nestled on her lap as his father read to them.

 He brought the sword down. Steadily, the hole began to grow.

 He was lying in his bed, chest aching with every wheezing breath, his father's hand clasping his own. They were both exhausted from a long night, eyes drifting shut.

 He was in the courtyard with his first training sword, practicing his footwork, glancing up at the window in hopes of catching his father watching.

 It was his knighting ceremony, all the young guards standing proudly before the king as he welcomed them as protectors of the kingdom. Viren stood behind him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Soren's name was called out.

 He was standing in the dungeon, leaning on a crutch, cruel words still ringing in the cold, stone hall. Staring into the frenzied eyes of someone who was supposed to love him.

 He was standing in the dungeon, offering his father his heart one final time.

 Soren's sword struck hard stone and, with a reverberating clang, twisted in his hand. It flew aside, falling to the ground with a long crack running up it. He fell to his knees beside the hole and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

 "No. I- I've taken enough from you, son.”

 There hadn't been time to argue. Soren had tried, but in the end…

 "I'm so proud of you."

 He'd turned back, opened his mouth to say something, but no words had come. His father smiled at him. A sad smile, the knife clutched in one hand, staff in the other. 

 "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

 "I love you." the words came now, kneeling over his father's grave. They came too fast, too much. Like they were being torn right from his chest. "I love you. I always did, I- I don't know why you did everything you did. I don’t understand. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I wish I could forgive you. I wish I didn't want to forgive you. I-"

 Soren forced in a shaky breath and rose to his feet, leaving his sword where it had fallen. Maybe, if all these versions of his father could be true at once, then he could hold love and hate in his heart at the same time, too.

 And that would have to be enough. 

 He lifted his father and carried him to the side of the grave, wrapping him in the tattered remains of one of Katolis's banners before lowering him inside. This was the same man who had played with him in the courtyard and read him to sleep at night when he was sick. But it was also the one who’d cast him aside, shouted that his life didn’t matter. 

 Soren leaned down and lifted the fabric up to cover his father's face. What were the words to the rite Opeli had used? He had heard her say them enough that day. Something about justice, he thought. 

 "May Lady Justice be merciful." he whispered, voice cracking. “May she feel both love and hatred, and make the right choice.”

It took him nearly as long to fill the hole as it had to dig it, and the sun was high in the sky by the time he had finished; legs weary and arms aching. Finally, he went to retrieve his sword. The crack ran from the tip to the pommel, jagged edges glistening in the midday light. Soren went to sheathe it, but hesitated.

Crossing back to his father's grave, he struck it into the ground that had broken it, letting it stand as a marker. And then he turned one final time, and without looking back, walked out of the valley.

[remy45]

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.

[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

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@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

[brabblesblog]

I got my heart's desire, and there my troubles began.

Sith!Astarion x Reader one shot! Thanks for the brain rot @dovaqueendraws <3

You had snuck aboard the star destroyer, with the aim of ending the Sith scourge. Will wiser heads prevail, or will you fall to the dark side?

Ao3

Desire. Passion. Lust.

None of it was new to you, long-forgotten and yet now brought to the forefront of your mind.

Your saber hung uselessly on your belt, your robes obscuring it from view. The troopers had yet to confiscate it - with your hands bound behind you, there was little risk of reaching for it.

But that man at the far end of the table, clothed in black leather, took your mind off your weapon. Silver hair, glinting in the light of the star from the viewport behind him. Crimson eyes, a color you had been taught to be wary of, glowered from across the room.

A gloved hand rose, and with a beckoning motion, pulled you towards him.

Sith. This was what you had been here for.

He was strong in the force, that much you could tell. Those eyes flickered away as an officer leaned in to whisper. You strained your ears; if anything, some information may prove useful later.

“We hold the blockade,” the sith purred. His voice was velvety and you shivered, despite yourself.

Control yourself. You were no stranger to resisting urges such as these. Any Jedi who had passed the trials knew all too well the tribulations of resisting what came naturally. But he was…

Different.

He turned his attention to you, dismissing the officer with a lazy flick of the wrist. As he shifted you caught sight of his saber - curved at the hilt and ornate. No doubt the blade would be as red as his eyes.

“Leave us.” Those eyes never left yours as he spoke, and you barely noticed the noise as people shuffled out of the room.

He stood, his hand still lifted, holding you in place. Eyes raked up and down your body, and he sighed.

“I didn’t think Jedi still existed, darling.”

The answer was automatic, one you had learned to give in the years since the fall. “I am no Jedi.”

“And yet, you wear the robes of one. Carry the weapon of one.” He walked around you and reached down, pulling the fabric away to reveal the hilt of your saber.

You fully expected him to step away, but instead he leaned in, breathing in deeply. Your pulse quickened, and his lips curved into a smile.

“Nervous, are we? There is little to fear. I won’t hurt you.” The sith closed his eyes, as if contemplating something. “No,” he whispered, “I think I have far more fruitful pursuits than simple slaughter.”

“As if slaughter was anything new to you.”

He laughed. “You do amuse me, at least.”

There was a tug downwards, your knees buckling as you were forced to kneel in front of him. Muscled thighs, tightly bound in leather trousers, came into view. “I sense a darkness in you. A longing for…” he tilted his head. “vengeance. Not the Jedi way, I must say.”

“Like I said.” Gritting your teeth, you tried to focus your mind. Perhaps you could summon your saber into your hand while the sith was distracted. “I am no Jedi.”

He hummed in response. “You are no Bokken Jedi, at the very least.”

You straightened your back in response. No. You had been there at the fall. “Then what do you need from me? What… pursuit?”

The laughter that answered you was seductive, carefully crafted, you were certain. That did not mean you felt nothing, however, the faintest tendrils of want flowing through your body. You had not felt it in ages, had been trained to spurn such feelings, but…

There was a small click, and your cuffs fell away. You rubbed your wrists, wincing as the blood flowed into them.

“You could fight me,” he intoned, hands clasped behind his back, “or you could state the real reason for your presence today.”

“I’m-”

He raised a finger. “You say you are here for vengeance. You likely think it true - and yet your first instinct is not to go for your saber. You willingly allowed yourself to be taken in without nary a complaint, much less any violence.” Gesturing down at the planet beneath them, he continued. “Is it not far more peaceful this way? All they have to do is obey.”

“You let them leave the saber on me.” There was no other response to be had.

The sith inclined his head. “I have heard tales of Jedi on your planet - a force user that had been there since the fall. That is not unique. What is, however, are the stories I come across.”

You bit your lip, knowing what he meant. A Jedi that could be swayed by credits, a Jedi that no longer made the distinction of what it meant to be good or evil, only what it meant to live or die. A Jedi that…

“Ignite your blade.”

You swallowed, but did as asked. Unclasping the hilt you held your saber in your hands. The sith looked at you impatiently.

The room is bathed in red light.

The sith grins, face framed by the glow of your blade. “Now that the truth is laid bare… answer me again. Why are you here?”

“Fifty thousand credits for your head.”

“Fifty. A paltry sum, compared to what I offer you.” Bridging the gap that separated you from him, the sith knelt in front of you, painfully, achingly close. “You can take what you came here for, and be done with it,” he looked up through lidded eyes, “or consider my offer.”

He looked… tantalizing. Tempting. Even though you had fallen you had practiced the ways of your old masters, eschewing the pleasures of the flesh and of the heart. You had bled your crystal as your temple burned in a moment of righteous anger, had done what was necessary in the name of survival but… this? This was different.

Had you come here to kill him, and receive your payment? Or were you here to find another of your kind, so rare nowadays?

“All you need is a little push.” It was whispered, reverently, almost as if he had read your mind. A hand tucked your hair behind your ear. He watched you dither, unbothered by your still-activated saber, and leaned forward to press his lips against your own. It was as if you had been waiting, your lips parting of their own to allow him in.

You jerked towards him, but in the next second you managed to shove him back, saber aimed at his throat. He chuckled.

“Have you made up your mind then, Jedi?”

You hissed. “I am not-”

In that same second his blade met yours, red on red, dancing, weaving against each other, the low hum the only sound in the room.

That, and his breathing, the panting betraying his excitement.

No doubt he sensed yours, too.

The blades crossed, sparks winking into existence as he pressed the advantage, driving you backwards. Your back hit the wall, and your own saber inched closer to your face. His face was right next to yours, the glint of exhilaration evident in his gaze, in the slight part of his lips that revealed fangs.

The sith closed the gap, his body flush against yours. You felt something press against your thigh, something that sent white-hot lust flowing through you.

Fuck.

The blades retracted at the same time. Intention shifted into action, and it was almost as if one knew what the other had in mind.

Force trickery, no doubt. From the two of you. Divining each other’s thoughts had revealed a shared fantasy.

His cock ground against your thigh, hands squeezing your waist. He moaned into your ear.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?”

You grabbed his ass, and that was all the reply he needed.

“On your knees,” he whispered. “Right now.”

You did as he asked, your hand now on his thigh. Your mouth watered as he unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his cock. It was hard, pink at the head, a small droplet of precum forming at the tip.

“Was this what you came for?” Fingers dug into your hair, a surprisingly pleasant feeling, and you felt heat pool between your legs.

“I wanted…” you braced yourself. “Something.”

“Passion. Feeling.” He shuddered as you wrapped a hand around him. “You want what the Jedi have taught you to abstain from. What the sith tell you to indulge in.”

You rankled slightly. Sith? Was that what you were now? You were no longer Jedi - your blade said as much - but were you really-

“It matters not what you call yourself,” he purred. “Suck.”

You obeyed.

Not him, not really. For once in your life you listened to yourself.

His length was shoved into your mouth; rough, beautiful, amazing. You smelled and tasted him, the salty tang of precum suffusing your senses as his tip hit the back of your throat. He held you in place, the fist tangled in your hair tight and unforgiving, as he began to thrust.

You moved your hand in time with his hips, sucking and swallowing around him. He had begun to leak; you tasted more and more of it with every pass. Pressing your tongue against the underside of his cockhead was rewarded by a groan, and you felt yourself clench; that sound was exquisite, and you would do anything to hear it again.

Grasping his ass tighter you encouraged him to fuck your mouth harder, chasing him every time he pulled out. He braced against the wall, palm pressed flat against it as he rocked into your mouth. All you could hear was his ragged panting, his moans, and the wet sounds of his cock filling your mouth up.

You squeezed your thighs together in a desperate hunt for friction. The sith noticed, and he smirked. “When was the last time you had indulged?”

Too long. Far too long. You whimper, the sound muffled, your lips still wrapped around him, mid-suck.

He pulled out; you watched as a trail of saliva lingered on his cockhead, linking you and him for a second. His length glistened with saliva, twitching as he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking lazily. The hand on your hair loosened.

“On the table, darling. Let it not be said that I am a cruel master.”

You snorted, despite yourself, and divested yourself of clothing. The fabric fell away as you clambered on, legs hanging off the edge.

He approached you, his cock jutting out proudly as he leaned over you.

The first rub he made against your clit sent shivers up your spine. You whimpered as he made another pass, his length rubbing with a teasing slowness.

“So wet and eager for me.” He paused. “Tell me what you want, and I shall provide.”

“Fuck me,” you spat out. “Please.”

There was a sharp bark of laughter, and then bliss.

He had buried himself in you with one quick thrust, hands braced on either side of your face. He shut his eyes, and when he reopened them there was nothing left there but desire.

You bucked up and he responded in kind, beginning to roll his hips hard and fast.

Your legs wrapped around him, asking for more - deeper, harder - and he obliged, pumping in and out with relentless speed.

Every thrust spread you open and filled you with him, hitting your spot mercilessly. He was the perfect length, the perfect girth, each pass pure heaven. As he held you down with a hand on your shoulder all you thought of was this, him buried to the hilt inside you, every throb and twitch telling you just how much he wanted this, too. You felt yourself clench around him, your walls holding him tight and making him gasp. He pinched a nipple, then moved to squeeze your breast, further intensifying the feeling.

His ass clenched, muscles tensing, and you knew he was fast approaching his climax. Red eyes gazed down at you, silver hair falling and framing his face, chest heaving with every breath. You met those parted lips with your own, and his tongue slipped into your mouth without a second thought.

A gloved hand snaked down between your legs, tracing rough circles around your clit. You whined, bucking up against him, and he murmured a quick good girl as his pace intensified.

You could have this forever, and it would not be enough.

His fingers grew more insistent, and you were sure his gloves were soaked in your slick. You felt it begin, that heat in your stomach, painfully close to unfurling.

His cock throbbed as he gasped, his movements losing rhythm as he skirted the edge. Your legs held him tighter, pulling him flush against you. He growled, a quick nip on your lips the only warning you received.

And then you felt it. His cock gave one hard pulse as his climax took him, hips jerking involuntarily as he shuddered. His orgasm brought you yours, your walls clenching tight as he filled you up with his seed, your back arching off the table. In that moment nothing mattered other than this, that the blooming pleasure radiating from your linked bodies.

If this is what it meant to fall, then you would do so willingly.

As you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see him watching you. He braced, then gently pulled out, visibly shivering as his cock met the cold air.

“Was that what you came for, darling?”

Teasing, wry. He knew he had you.

“A little more than I bargained for,” you admitted, “but I don’t mind.”

What was left unspoken was nevertheless known. You would stay by his side.

The sith tugged his trousers back on, a half-smile on his face. “Then get dressed.”

He looked out through the viewpoint.

“We have a galaxy to rule.”

[sleepycreamcola]

Peter: How can we defeat him...

Y/N: I crush his skull and throw him into space

Peter: No

Y/N: You never let me have any fun 😒

Drax: You are soft Quill! Soft like a stupid little baby! A baby that wasn’t breastfed, because it’s mother didn’t love it!

Quill: Okay-

Drax: You are a malnourished child!

[weixuldo]

Allow Me // ch 1

Darth Vader x F!Reader

based on this ask by @informationqueen

(a/n: sorry this took so long!! but thank you for waiting!! I just got really focused on finishing up unconditionally and getting enigma set up for the climax. But, never the less, here it is!)

People would kill to be in your position, an officer on Darth Vader’s ship, the Executor. You couldn’t complain really, but ever since you transferred, something had felt off, you couldn’t seem to fit in or find your place amongst the others on board. Sadly, you receive some upsetting news and debate leaving, until an interaction with the Sith Lord, himself, leaves you curious as to who he is under all of that armor (literally & figuratively)

Warnings: mention of parental death, cannon violence, death, depiction of anxiety attack, depressive episode, loneliness, slut shaming, cursing, crude names, harassment

________________________________________

Walking through the halls of your new posted station, you felt a sense of loneliness.

The white halls with troopers cycling through seemed so cold. You had worked here for a few weeks, yet you hadn’t made a single meaningful connection with anyone.

On the contrary, it seemed like most people just saw you as a nuisance, especially a unit of troopers that seemed to make a game out of tormenting you. 

As much as you tried, no one seemed interested in becoming acquaintances with you and it was wearing you down by the day.

But you needed to push through your discomfort, this was one of the best jobs in the empire. Working on Lord Vader’s personal ship?

People would kill to be in your shoes. 

You made your way down one of the many monotonous corridors to deliver a message to Admiral Ozzel about a new development in the rebel pursuit.

Personally, you didn’t really have opinions on the matters of the galaxy, of course you wanted peace for your system, but you couldn’t see a way to really fit into its liberation. So you went on with your life and did the best you could to be a decent human. 

Tensions on the Executor were fairly high with the pursuit of the Rebels fresh on Lord Vader’s mind. You had only ever seen Vader from a distance and he never spoke directly towards you. You often wondered if he even knew half of the people who worked under him.

_______________________

You were about to turn the corner into Ozzel’s office when the doors swooshed open and he stomped past.

“Wait! Sir, I have a message for you” You said, trying to catch up to the man.

He didn’t hear you and continued down the busy corridor to a control room. You followed closely behind but stopped when you entered the doorway of the room. 

Blinking lights and shimmering screens littered the space and a rush of busy admirals and empire workers bustled about the room. A loud beeping sound began and a large screen flashed sciatica before showing the mask of the most feared man in the galaxy.

Darth Vader.

You decided it better not to give the Admiral his message until after the suited man was done speaking; you stayed largely outside of the room, but peeked your head around the corner to see what was happening.

Admiral Ozzel turned to the dark figure and addressed him, though he didn’t get to finish his sentence before he began choking. 

“You have failed me for the last time, admiral” the deep mechanical voice boomed.

Your eyes widened as you saw the man you had just been trailing, collapse lifeless on the sleek floor of the executor.

As much as he was a nuisance, he didn’t deserve death.

Soon, Vader had shifted command to the next Admiral and exited the call. He was terrifying. The stories of him reached every corner of the galaxy and everyone knew them, but some of you just didn’t believe it.

But he just killed a man through a screen… What the fuck.

A gloved finger tapped your shoulder, making you jump. As you turned around, you noticed the man as the man who just replaced Ozzel. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quite assertively, he was probably just on edge from witnessing his co-worker be killed right beside him.

“I was tasked with giving news of the rebel pursuit to Admiral…Ozzel” you trailed off as you watched two stormtroopers drag his limp body out of the control bay. 

“Well, now you may relay that information to me” the man standing before you stated.

You straightened your posture and delivered the news.

_____________

As you finished your rounds, walking through the monochromatic halls of the flagship, you felt a buzz from the holo-pad clipped to your side.

The blue screen flashed pixels spelling out your father’s name. 

Odd. He never contacted you.

Begrudgingly you moved to lean against an indent in the wall as you checked his message.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, But your mother…”

Oh no.

“Your mother has passed” you heard him choke out on the audio message.

You cut the pad off and slowly slid your back down the wall. You didn’t know what to think, your parents were both healthy and led pretty normal lives, how did she?

The news was so sudden and unexpected. And where were you? Focusing on your career, several systems away….You didn’t get to say goodbye.

You were more in shock than anything, but as you sat there for a moment the tears began to fall. You leaned over your knees and held yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you heard the familiar step of heavy boots. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the nearing presence of the sith lord. 

Maker, this really wasn’t a good time.

You were about to stand at attention for Lord Vader, but before you could, he was already standing over you. 

“State your business here” his deep mechanical voice boomed. 

Your heart began to race, he had never directly spoken to you. Yet here he was looking into your glassy eyes.

You bowed and began to explain yourself. “My apologies, my Lord, I was-”

“You seem to have been crying” he observed.

Your face heated up even more now, was he going to kill you because he found you “weak”?

“I-I’m sor-”

“I sense your great discomfort, tell me what has happened?” he asked, tilting his helmet slightly. 

He's asking you what happened? Does he really care? Probably not, but you saw what happened earlier when his orders were defied.

“It’s my mother, my Lord…She passed,” you said quietly. 

You heard as his mechanical breathing hitched before he looked down the hallways. Once he turned back to you he placed a gentle gloved hand on your upper arm.

“My condolences. I understand.” he said before turning and leaving, his normal strut carrying him down the corridor. 

_____________________________

For the next few days you were still in denial that the interaction with Vader happened. He was known to be a coldhearted machine who never had any emotion other than hatred. But, to you, he was….kind?

Your father had your mother buried quickly after her passing, sadly you were not able to attend her funeral, but maybe it was better that way. If you went back home, you might not have ever come back to the executor. 

You walked around the ship checking off equipment efficiency, today you had the exclusive card to Lord Vader’s meditation chamber. You had checked out that technology before, but you were unusually anxious this time.

What if you ran into him there? Would he remember you?

You swiped the silver card and entered the dark room. Your breath hitched as the doors revealed his chamber to be closed… he was in there.

You gathered all the courage you could and continued to the control system. The task was to check the equipment but you felt as if it were a violation of privacy. You had never been in the room while Vader was actually meditating so you had no idea what to do.

For lack of better ideas you gently knocked on the outer shell of the chamber and prayed he wouldn’t crush your airways. 

The Pod whirred and slowly began to ascend. You gulped as you heard the squeal of his helmet being secured to the rest of his suit. 

You bowed as his chair turned to face you. “I am sorry for the intrusion, My Lord. I have been tasked with inspecting the mechanics and I thought it best to alert you I would be in the room” you spoke.

He lifted a hand, “No need for apologies”.

Huh?

That was much more laid back than you were expecting.

“I sensed your intent once you entered. I have no qualms with people doing their jobs..unless it negatively affects me.” his mechanical voice conveyed to you.

You made sure to silence your thoughts, you didn’t know how much he could sense your emotions. But you knew he was being uncharacteristically cordial. 

“Thank you My Lord” you rose from your bow. 

His dark lenses stared at you for a moment before he spoke once more, “You are the officer I encountered in the corridor, are you not?”.

You nodded.

“Were You able to see your mother buried?” he asked.

Why was he asking you this, it's not like he cared.

“No sir, my schedule did not permit time for that, she was buried on our home planet just the other day.” 

His dark mask tilted downward. He must have been deep in thought because he didn’t register your voice until you repeated yourself for the third time.

“My Lord?”

“Continue your duties, pay no heed to myself” he spoke after another second of silence.

Your heart began to thump heavily inside your chest, you almost would have rather he ordered you to exit. Now you were stuck in here poking around as the mechanics while he was attempting to meditate nearby. 

“I am regretful that you were not able to see her buried” his voice chimed in, surprising you.

“Oh, um, thank you, my lord” you said shyly

“I understand your pain” was all he said before returning to his meditative state.

Your heart tugged as you worked, you knew you shouldn’t make a habit of running into and conversing with THE Darth Vader, but you couldn’t help but feel compelled. The rhythmic breathing of his suit oddly comforted you as you worked maintenance, he was really the only person who had expressed any interest in your life in months.

As you finished the last of your tasks you thought about how crazy this situation was, not only did he allow you to work in his room; you know he said he didn’t mind workers just doing their jobs, but he never allowed people into his meditation chamber with him. Never.

But he also never acknowledged anyone’s emotions, much less sympathize with them.

You gathered your supplies and headed out, looking back once you reached the doors to see if you should say goodbye or just leave. He was seated away from you; his shoulders were so broad, you wondered what he may look like under the suit…

“Thank you, my Lord” you said, deciding to announce your exit, rather than just leave– you didn’t exactly know what he thought of you, but you didn’t want to assume anything or create a bad impression.

________________

Once the large doors closed behind you, you took a deep breath and leaned against the nearest wall.

Maker, that was intense.

You stood there for a moment to gather your thoughts when two troopers walked by; much to your chagrin, they were the two who seemed to enjoy antagonizing you.

“Well well well… what do we have here?” one of them spoke.

“‘What’s got you all out of breath?” the other snarky asked.

You straightened your back and furrowed your brow, “That is none of your concern”

One kept his eye on you as the other nudged him and motioned towards the chamber door. 

“Ohhh, I see. Little officer y/n, providing her services to Sith lords across the galaxy”.

“I bet you love when Lord Vader whips out his ‘saber’, just for you.”

“Oh yea, Vader’s personal concubine” they laughed together.

“Real mature” you said, attempting to push past the two taller troopers.

“Hey, were not the ones “sucking” up to the boss, I mean look at her… it makes sense, how else do you think she got a position here?” one implied, tapping the temple of his helmet. 

“Yeah, it's not like she’s particularly good at her job”, the other snickered.

“At least she’s got a pretty face” 

You pushed past the two, feeling your anger about to spill over.

“Aww, where ya goin’ sweetheart? We were just joking” they laughed behind you.

_______________________________

The rest of your week went on normally, you continued maintenance on whatever needed it and ran messages to various people. Though, you were finding hate mail by your quarters; you knew it was the troopers having their fun and you knew they’d be vandalizing your door if it wasn’t empire property. 

You weren’t distraught over the disgustingly crude letters they were leaving, more than anything you felt numb; why did they care to torment you if you didn’t even feel it anyway.

At this point, you existed purely as a cog to the machine of the empire. That's all you were.

Maybe a walk would clear your mind; it was after hours and you knew you weren’t allowed to go far, but it was better than going stir crazy in your room. 

The white door in front of you opened with a “swoosh” and you stepped through the frame. As usual, there was a crumpled up letter at your feet. You sighed and tossed it into the waste bin, why bother reading it? You’d just get another tomorrow…and the next day… and the next. 

As you roamed the cold halls, pondering your situation. You had no friends, no claims to your own, your mother passed and you weren't even there.

On top of that you were completely replaceable, the empire didn’t even need you; surely there was another being out there just as, if not more, capable than you.

All of these emotions and thoughts used to eat at you, but now you struggled to even feel at all.

It was getting bad. 

Before you knew it, you were as far from the sleeping quarters as you were technically permitted, you prepared to head back when a familiar sound caught your ear.

That breathing, it was him.

You flattened yourself against the wall and held your breath, if he saw you out here after hours and not in the approved uniform, you would actually be done for. 

His heavy footsteps halted and you heard the clink of stormtrooper armor clamoring down the hall. 

“Stop.” the deep mechanical voice commanded.

“Yes, Lord Vader” you heard the trooper respond. Ugh, not just any troopers, it was definitely the pair who had been tormenting you.

There was a moment of silence before the trooper spoke again, “Is everything alright, sir?”.

Soon, you heard a blaster crash to the floor and the nerve wracking sound of suffocation.

“I’m not sure, I’m feeling pretty tense, I haven’t seen my ‘concubine’ lately”

Oh shit.

The trooper who wasn’t being choked to death spoke up, “please. My lord, he didn’t mean anything by it!” 

You peeked around the corner just enough to see Vader menacingly turn towards the other trooper, gloved hand still outstretched by his belt. All of a sudden he released his force hold on the man, allowing him to fall to the floor.

The free standing trooper knelt down to help the other back to his feet.

“I see now, the two of you meant no harm. Carry on” Vader spoke, returning his hands to his sides.

The troopers gave each other a look before they quickly scrambled down the corridor. As Vader turned the other way towards the other exit. 

You were about to head back as well, until you heard faint crunching followed by cries of pain. You looked back around the corner and saw the troopers grabbing at their helmets and Vader slowly turning back towards them. 

With a simple swipe of his hand he sharply drew the men closer to him; they ended up suspended off the ground, their armored bodies thrashing around.

“I will not allow your insulting behavior on my ship- and it seems this is not the first disturbance you have caused” his strong voice boomed through the corridor. 

You silently rose and started tip-toeing back to the rooms, you definitely did not want to be caught here, and it sounded like the Sith lord was concluding business. As you hurried back, the halls behind you rang with crunching and two final screams. 

________________

You made sure to jump straight into bed and turn every light out; a sheen of sweat still covering your forehead.

You got back just fine, but why did you still feel uneasy? You had seen the horrors of the empire, two trooper’s death’s shouldn't shake you that much…

Was it the fact that they were dead because of a conversation you were a part of? What if the Sith lord came for you next? No. he wouldn’t…

right?

You did nothing wrong… well, he doesn’t know that…. Maker!

Soon you were on the verge of a panic attack, the pounding of your heartbeat thumped in your ears and you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. You just needed to relax.

Breathe in through the nose. Out through the mouth. In…out…in…out…

Once you calmed down you checked the time on the built-in digital clock all the rooms had; fuck, over half and hour had passed and you had to be up in four hours.

What you needed to do now was focus on falling asleep so you could do good work tomorrow. 

You settled down and began to drift into a comforting sleep, everything was ok-

Through the thin walls of the workers quarters, you made out a familiar gait… those heavy boot steps… that patterned breathing. 

He was coming.

***

a/n: tyy for reading!! I am planning on doing a few more chapters, I havent decided how long I want to make this, But I hope you enjoyed!! and im really sorry abt the wait, again :(

taglist: @informationqueen

[skyguys-princess]

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

MASTERLIST

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Decode - Paramore

Timeline: Recon, Unexpected Introductions...

ch 1. Unexpected Introductions

ch 2. Recon

(dividers by @muruffin + @chilumitos)