#sunberry answers

[sun-berryy]

Hey Sun! What is your favorite piece of streaming software?

Hi Meowster! 💙

It's gotta be Mix It Up!! It provides so much power and convenience to stream for myself and my mods, and my community gets to interact with fun and funny moments while I'm live~

Plus I love the Berry of the Day redeem so folks can get a different berry and, often, learn something new while they're hanging out! 💕🍓

I will admit it is intimidating to get into, but I found MamaTamago's tutorials made the app much more approachable and the payoff is worth for how much I can do and more easily manage on stream!

Thanks for the question, hope you have a great day~ 💙☀️🍓

[mercifulbutbroken]

What made you smile today and favourite book and when did you first read it? :)

Hiii hello!!! Thank you for the ask-

Something that made me smile today was seeing my partner send me a 'good morning' message. Such a simple thing always makes me smile as I get ready to go to college.

Hmm, favorite book.... I was really attached to the Amulet book series when I entered middle school. I asked the librarians when the next books would come out or if they would be added to the library. They were always so kind to me- haha.

Ask list is here!

[aurora-darling]

Just a dream

Zevlor x F!Reader/Tav

i had nothing better to do than to gush about Zevlor and how hard it would be for him to confess his love to anyone

this is also after you kick ass at the goblin camp and keep minthara from being a bully

Slight nsfw warning: Suggestive themes, angst, heartache, trauma.

“I told you not to go!” Zevlor screams at you, spitting and baring his fangs. “ You promised me!” He exclaims again, slamming his fist into the stone desk. You walk forward. “ Zev-” He slams it again and points at you at you. “Don’t.” He says and you can see his bloody knuckles. He sighs and leans over the desk, defeated. His hair hung loosely over his face, his usual neatly tied pony was a mess. “But Halsin is back and the Goblins are gone.” You say, stepping forward. You did it, they were safe. He was safe. 

You put yourself at risk. You hear him think, his heart is broken. 

“I did it to save everyone. Halsin helped with the camp. Yes, there were close calls but Gale and Astar-” You stop yourself before saying Astarions name. It was too late. Zevlor heard you say it. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “That monster was around you this whole time?!” He yells, and you wince. You are afraid to move, his jaw is clenched and he looks at you from under his brows. “Were you going to tell me?” He asks. 

Answer me. Do. Not. Lie! He screams in his head.

You look at the ground and bite your lips. He walks around the other side of the desk to stand in front of you. Zevlor sighs and picks your chin up to look at him. His tail wraps around your back to pull you close. 

Look at me, baby. 

There was that scent again. Musk and leather. Oh, how you swooned over his scent.  His touch was always warm. Some nights were humid and heat was the last thing you wanted touching you, yet you crave his. However tonight, there was a chill in his chambers. You needed his body heat. He loved holding you. You are always refreshing to hold. Just like the way he feels when he eats sunberry.

How do you do that? Is it magic? How do you make me tingle all over? Are you healing me? You hear his heart and he’s forgotten to be angry and is now cradling you, swinging you softly. You nuzzle into him slowly, rubbing your face into his shirt, smelling the sweat at his collarbone. He laughs, pressing his lips on the top of your head. You whisper you missed him in your native tongue. A silent blessing for him.

If you got hurt, if I lost you…He sighs, breathing your scent. He rocks you slowly. 

You licked your lower lip, leaving your saliva coating it. “Beahat.” You say, looking up at him. He can’t help but stare. Your rosy pink lips look so sweet. The way your teeth bite your lip slowly. The way your soft tongue runs across it. Gods, did you have to smile at him like that? Before he can stop himself he instantly sees Astarion over you in his mind. Sucking your lifeblood. You. His hands, mouth, teeth. His fucking hands. He wanted to flay him alive.

Zevlor pulls away to place his hand on his hip, the other rubbing his neck. He stands there silently, his tail flicking the ground hard before wrapping around his leg. “Your turn.” He stops and turns to look at you for your explanation. His loving expression is gone, he’s angry.

“ I needed you to stay here.” You say, your bottom lip quivering. You needed everyone you could get that would help. You would have sold your immortal soul if it meant saving your man. “ Minthara-” You start to say, looking at him. “ We needed to split up the camp and send Minthara on a death sentence. Here.” You say. His head hangs low and he doesn’t respond to you. His thoughts and feelings are lost to you. “I knew you could fight her off until we arrived. You’re so strong and I can always rely on you. I don’t have to worry about you doing the right thing-” You lower your gaze to the stone floor “I’m sorry, Zevlor. I just needed Astarion’s hel-” Zevlor’s lips cut you off and pressed harshly onto yours.

Don’t say his name in my presence ever again. He thinks, groaning into your mouth. 

Zevlors eyes roll back as he tastes your pretty mouth. He shifts his head from side to side, keeping your kiss as much as he can. He breathes you in, your knees weaken and he pulls you up to him. You push him away to breathe and he lunges to kiss and devour your neck. He can see the white scars from where Astarion feasted on your nape. He stops and stays frozen, breathing deeply. “Zev?” You ask, frozen and unsure if you should move. Before you can say anything else he swoops you up in his arms. He holds you tightly, slowly carrying you to his bedroll, stopping a few steps to kiss you. He says nothing and lays you down on his bed. 

You try to read his thoughts but hear nothing. You feel drunk feeling the furs under you, how much they smelt like him. You squirm when he kisses your ear, his tongue taking in your lobe. His fangs raked over it. You squirm again, and this time, his tail wraps around your waist to keep you still. He leans over you, watching you in excitement. He’s never had a lover act like this. No one had ever responded this way. You can see his chest rise and fall, his large tunic exposing his infernal chest. You smile at how sweet he is. He may be a paladin, a tough commander, and a Hellrider. But to you, he’s Zevlor, the man you love. He looks over you, taking you in under the candlelight. He can’t believe you’re in his bed under him. Your gold curls were loose around you like a halo. He looked at your blue eyes, and he couldn't help but smile. They were so blue even in this low light. He then looks to your pink lips and, at last, his favorite; the brown freckles on your shoulders. “ Zevlor.” You say your hands above your head. He can see your nipples harden through your dress. He clears his throat and adverts his gaze, looking at the floor. 

Gods… you’ll ruin me, young lady.

He lowers his head, you can see his horns. There were more scars than you realized, some parts were broken or chipped. You thought they were beautiful. He is beautiful. You reach your hand up and touch them. You hear Zevlors tail whip in excitement. He groans and you can’t take your hand off his horn. Your fingers hold on tighter and tighter, stroking slowly. 

“ I have to tell you.” He says, his breath heavy. “ Before this goes any further.” He breathes deeply and looks around for his gold pouch. “ I don’t- I don’t have any-anything to give you.” He admits, gulping hard. “ I can promise you nothing. I am old and-” He laughs, fumbling over his words. “ What I am trying to say is- “ He looks up at you, his golden-flammed eyes covered in tears. “ I can’t bring myself to tell you to be with another but I know I am not enough.“ He says as tears fall down his cheeks. You squeeze his hand and lean forward to kiss him. He shakes his head but doesn’t push you away. “ No, Aria. Listen, please.” He says kissing you back softly. “ Anyone but him. Why him?” He pleads with you as you taste him. “There’s no one but you.” You say, taking a bite out of his lip but he doesn’t listen. He stops kissing you and you lay back looking into his eyes. Zevlor cannot be convinced otherwise. Of course there are others, there has to be. What idiot would not want to be with you? He saw the effect you had on others. The way people almost broke their neck looking at you. The way they laughed when you ran past them and to him. He could practically hear what they were thinking.

She’s interested in him? 

No, seriously? 

Right? I know, He’s a joke of a paladin. 

He’s a commander of a pathetic party. 

She’s a hero, our savoiur, a Goddess. She’s too pretty for him. 

Gross, he has scars all over. His ears are too long. His chin too.

What is with his hair? 

He gets tired so easy, look at him fight. See, he just lost to Zorru. How pathetic. Who looses like that? 

I bet he can’t get it up for her. I could have her begging for more if I fuck her. 

How he wanted to have the confidence to stand next to you, his arm around you. Your Hellrider. Your courageous commander. Courage. It was why he was proud to be a Hellion. His cavalry represented the courage to ride into Hell itself to protect the innocent and defend the weak. He took his oath seriously. It was who he was, his life, his purpose. 

You brush his hair off his face and push it behind his red pointed ears. He shivers and looks down at your body. He isn’t looking at you with lust but heartache. You tilt your head to the side and bring both of your hands to the sides of his face. You lean up to kiss him, to bring his attention out of his head and back to you. 

You’ll be the death of me. His heart pleads. You hold his face in your hands, his horns casting shadows over your hair. The perfect scene of an Angel and her Devil, he thought. 

“ Hey there.” You say, your eyes catching his. “Did you know?” You whisper, your thumb caressing his cheek. “That your eyes are my favorite color?” He whimpers, biting his bottom lip. He has no words. He can’t remember when, if ever, someone spoke to him like this. “Where do you go when I can’t reach you?” You ask, still rubbing your thumbs across his face. Zevlor sighs, closing his eyes and moving his lips to kiss the inside of your palm. “I-” He grips the fur under you. He is scared to admit the truth. He couldn’t face you looking at him with pity, with disgust. The way others look at him, as if being born a tiefling is below being a full-blooded Devil. Half man, half Devil. A reminder to all races that no matter how good you tried to be, there was no changing your blood. If he was still a Hellrider commander in Elturel he would at least have that. 

He could see it in his dreams. He would ride proud in his white and scarlet armor, from being away for weeks. Citizens in Elturel are happy for their soldiers to return. There is a parade and music. He crosses the moat and heads toward you. His soldiers are envious of a man decades older, able to pull a Fairy like you. There you are, you had climbed on top of a statue for a better look. He smiles at his little thrill-seeker. He dismounts his horse and notices you are in your periwinkle gown, your gold hair worn in a loose braid. You wore a lilac and baby's breath crown on your head. He would stop and stand still. This is his favorite part. He watches as you climb down in a rush, your face is flushed. You say his name and run towards him. The way the gown hugs your cleavage has him gripping the hilt of his sword. How it fell off your shoulders, exposing them to the sun. His favorite part of you will always be your shoulders. Gods, he loves them. The light brown freckles that glittered in the sunlight. He knew, that you knew, he adores your shoulders. He loved that you cared what he liked. He had been gone from you for far too long. You push your way through the crowd, your small height among tieflings is adorable. You’re so polite. His heart fills when he sees you gasp and apologize for bumping anyone. You can move a little faster now and he mouths the words 'slow down.' He smiles, knowing you won't.

Don’t run, baby girl.

He told you he would return. How were you able to make your gown look so iridescent? You grab fistfuls of your gown, kick your heels off, and run to him. Gods know he loves seeing you barefoot. He smiles and chuckles at you. 

My world.

 “Beahat.” You say, reaching him, slightly out of breath. He smiles down at you and picks you up, swirling you around. He loved hearing you speak in your native tongue. “ Zevlor, Beahat, I’m getting dizzy!” You say but giggle, holding onto him tight. He stops and leans his forehead on yours. “ I love you, Zevlor.”

Your hero had returned.

[stephiethewephie]

Intro

HELLO EVERYONE!!!

Sorta wanted to do an intro before I get into all the good parts!

I made this account at 16 to promote my Wattpad stories (I'VE GREATLY IMPROVED SINCE THEN), and the account has been absent for a while. With me finally having my own AO3 account and hyperfixating on OC stuff for so long now that my drive can only handle so much, I decided to refurbish the blog and just dump all my OC stuff here for your amusement (as well as promote my writing on AO3 when I finally get to doing that).

I plan to start with my OCs from Disney's: Twisted Wonderland since it's one of the things I'm currently hyperfixating on (if you couldn't tell by all the reblogs), and I already have a lot of written material for them already. So, if you're a fan of that, BUCKLE THE F$CKLE UP!!!

I'm also in the Pokemon fandom and have a few OCs from the franchise. As well as an OC x Canon fanfic in the works.

BTW, While most of the content will be OC x OC, there will be some OC x Canon, especially in Pokemon. If that's not your cup of tea, you are free to not look at it or leave.

I have OCs from smaller fandoms like Meow Wolf's: Omega Mart and Men in Black (I'll give more context when I get to them).

I'll also post general fantasy and D&D OCs, so stay tuned for that!

Masterlist for Characters!

Twisted Wonderland

Piper Finch: My MC

Character Profile

Facts Sheet

Relationship to The Main Cast (4 Parts)

Story

Captain Peggy

Character Profile

Facts Sheet

Ms. Shelly

Character Profile

Facts Sheet

Elanor Sunberry

Character Sheet

Feel free to ask questions about me or the characters! I would love to answer any questions you may have! I can also RP as my characters if you want to ask questions to them directly!

Also, I'm not an artist, so I'll be using Picrews for now. The links for the Picrews I use will be linked with the photos and/or at the end of the post!

That's all for now! Hope you enjoy my dumping ground!

HAVE FUN

[saltysunberry]

Ahhh hihihi!!! Luck and Key looks super cool so far!! I was just wondering, who is your absolute favourite character in the game?? (I personally love Cleo, hes such a cutie!!) and is there anyone in your life, or anyone who was in your life, who inspires your artworks?? I always find people's inspirations say a lot about them (tbh, you're one of my inspirations ^-^) anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day and i absolutely adore your artworks!!!

Oh anon! Thanks so much!! ❤️ That means a lot, I’m really glad you like it so far! *sobs* It’s been quite a while since I worked on L&K, but it’s still in progress ahaha!

Yeah, I really like Cleo too! At the current moment I’m doing redesigns of him and Ridge, plus some new characters I may add later on~ I’m definitely on the fence between Cleo and Ridge ヾ(＾∇＾)

I’m really fond of milemiru’s art style; she’s an amazing artist~ One of my favourite artists, Draw With Jazza on YouTube does awesome tutorials for art and animation and I learn so much from him too! Another artist I take inspiration from is Satoi-chan, who’s a really good VN artist (she did the OZMAFIA and Diabolik Lovers art, huwaaah!)

I think most of the character designs I do are heavily inspired by the things I like (e.g. Kingdom Hearts, My Hero Academia). I just do a lot of mashing up. So much more room for improvement!

I hope you have a great day too! Thanks so much for your support! :3

PS. Here’s a chibi Cleo for you XD KUKUKU

[ask-runaan-anything]

Moonhollow, moonstone path, moonberry, moon opal. Does the moon demand you preface every pronoun with her name, or is this an odd way of showcasing your love, or...a lack of creativity...?

Lack of creativity? Why do you humans name all your towns with words that mean town? 

Everyone can see that it’s a town.

okay okay silvergrove is just moonshadow for springfield don’t @ me

[starsandfluff]

apollos-boyfriend

milky bitch. hate him. dairy awful.

started as ahhh like put-together vibes cause i’d only see like textposts or liveblogs saying smart stuff abt bloodvines arc characters (didn’t follow him for a while after that tho)

now i just try to lovingly annoy sun, make suns jump over curdles if yknow what i mean

has a tagging system, posts everyday frequently /observations

some ppl say sun ppl for like sunshiney ppl, which like yeah sure that too, but icarus is someone who when i relate him to the sun, i mean from a very just science-y pov

autism

[ask game]

[orbitariums]

𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 | 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 + 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

hope you guys enjoy this smut that i wrote!!! more star wars pieces to come <3

contains: drug use [ barely ], sex while on drugs

word count: 5k

a night in coruscant | anakin skywalker x reader 

      The air on the rooftop was crisp and clean enough to ease even the heaviest set of lungs. The late night breeze felt cool against your bare skin, which was smooth and glimmering just like the embellishments on your strappy black dress, which stopped with a slit at your ankles. On your arm was the finest man in the Galaxy, Anakin Skywalker, everyone’s choice eye candy for the night besides yourself. Although that was obvious— you and Anakin went everywhere together, close friends that you were. So when you both got an invite to Padme’s birthday celebration, you knew it was only right that you attend it together. 

You were leaning against the open bar, talking quietly to Anakin and sipping a glass of imported Sunberry wine, your lip gloss leaving a sticky stain on the rim of the glass. 

     “Looky looky, Ani and YN arriving together once again, no surprise there,” came a voice from behind you, and the two of you turned in sync to see the smiling face of your devilish friend, Kitana, who was essentially the host of this surprise party for Padme. 

     “And look who’s juggling two drinks, no surprise there,” you smirked playfully, gesturing to the two bottles that the esteemed party animal was juggling in one clasped hand.

     “Good to see you, lovebug,” Kitana purred, pulling you in for a jostled hug, Anakin quickly giving her a friendly peck on the cheek. 

     “It’s so beautiful out here,” you commented, looking around at your surroundings. 

The balcony of the penthouse you were in was large and expansive, crowded with well-dressed, beautiful citizens of Coruscant in their best robes and dresses. Padme was a big deal, everyone who was in her circle or close to her were equally big deals, or at least they had a lot of credit, so at any gathering with Padme there, you could expect to meet the best of the best. 

     “Gods, I know,” Kitana practically moaned, dramatically clutching her chest with her hand. “How have you all been? And, lemme guess, you came here together?”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head,

     “We did, except I didn’t fly this time.”

You narrowed your eyes at Anakin, 

     “Yes, because you’re an insane pilot.”

     “Obi-Wan says I’m quite good,” Anakin puffed his chest out sensitively.

     “Yes, while you’re on missions. I for one was not showing up to Padme’s party looking as if I’d been hanging upside down off a gnarltree,” you bit back, chastising Anakin for his devilish nature. 

Anakin chuckled goodnaturedly, patting you on the shoulder,

      “She’s kidding.”

Kitana snickered, shaking her head slowly,

     “You two… hey, listen, I’ve got something for you.”

| | |

      “What is it?” Anakin cocked his head, examining the crushed up, potent smelling plant with a color that strangely resembled Master Yoda’s green skin. 

You were in a crevice of the rooftop tucked away from the other partygoers, 

     “It’s called marijuana!” Kitana whispered excitedly, looking between both you and Anakin, trying to make you both as excited as she was. “My father went on a highly important business trip to… well, it doesn’t matter where, but he came back with it. It supposedly has these potent healing properties but, if you ingest it, you get this really… really good feeling.” 

Kitana glanced up momentarily, gaging your reactions with an anticipatory expression on her face, a hopeful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips,

     “Wanna try it?”

You and Anakin both glanced up, making intentional eye contact with one another, as if you were saying “why not?”

     “Sure,” you shrugged, nonchalantly.

     “I couldn’t see why not,” Anakin agreed. 

What could go wrong?

| | |

     In just a matter of minutes after a few hits of this new marijuana substance (“Call it weed, it’s cooler,” Kitana had insisted), you were feeling… wonky, but in a good way. There was no other way to put it, you’d never felt this way before. Outside of the knowledge of Anakin, you’d tried a lot of other things like marijuana— namana, sweet blossom, even spice (just once, and never again), things Anakin would kill you if he knew about, but the feeling this gave you was unlike the others. You were extremely relaxed and calm, but at the same time extraordinarily giddy and happy. Things seemed to move a bit slower, and everything almost felt ridiculous, laughable. You found joy in the simplest things, specifically sitting by Ani’s side and fiddling with his fingers while you rested your head on his shoulder, sitting in the same crevice you were in before. 

Kitana was off somewhere, telling you two to hurry back soon to play a little welcome game before Padme arrived for the surprise. But right now, you both were happy just being together, laughing stupidly at the most nonsensical things. 

     “Oh Ani,” you sighed, gazing up at his boyish, but well-defined face from where you rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s so beautiful out here. I wish we could spend every night like this.”

     “I know,” Anakin replied softly, his voice having gone an octave lower and quieter ever since you’d smoked. He laced his fingers all the way in between yours and brought the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing there softly. “I wish I felt like this all the time… unfortunately, with the way things are going with the Council, I fear that’s impossible. I cherish these moments with you.”

You shifted, gazing at him with troubled eyes and a small pout, trying to get him to make eye contact. 

     “You know you’re my best friend, right, Ani? I’ll always be here for you.”

Anakin chuckled, amused by your kind heart, and finally looked down at you, 

     “Me too.”

    “Okay, lovebirds, let’s get goooing!” Kitana trilled dramatically, clapping her hands together. “We are going to play a little game. Come on, come onnn!”

    Kitana dragged the both of you up when neither of you budged, until you made your way to the penthouse where everyone was inside, mingling and chatting, and awaiting the guest of honor. Everything seemed to go by in a haze, slow motion almost, and the substance you’d inhaled had you taking your observation skills to the extreme. You looked over at Anakin to see if he was feeling the same way, only to find yourself gazing distractedly into his deep browns, his eyes tinted with red and slightly droopy, half-closed as if he was trying not to fall asleep, looking uninterestedly ahead at the group before him. You bit down on your lip and squeezed his hand, and although he didn’t look back at you, he slowly squeezed it back in acknowledgment.

    “Welcome, welcome everyone, don’t you all look so beautiful tonight?” Kitana cooed at the smiling faces before her. “Now, as you all know, our lovely guest is going to be here soon, and we’ll have to get in places to surprise her accordingly. But, first, I wanted to give us a little more time to get to know each other. So we’re going to be playing a little game.”

    You could’ve sworn Kitana winked at you then, but maybe you were just high. She explained the directions and everyone followed accordingly. She would make a statement or ask a question, and you would go towards whoever applied to the answer. The first round, she requested that everyone “walk up to the person with the cutest outfit” A swarm flocked to you, including Anakin, who only smiled at you gently. The next round, she said, “walk up to the person who has drunk the most tonight” Naturally, everyone flocked towards Kitana. 

You played a few rounds, getting into the groove of things and getting to know a multitude of others. You were extra relaxed and confident thanks to the weed, and you got along quite easily with everyone. That was normally the case— you were attractive and everyone made it a point to keep you aware of that fact. But Kitana’s next question was pushing it, further than you ever thought you’d go.

    “Alright. And now, and this is for the bold only. If you’re shy, this question is not for you!” Kitana was met with hooting and hollering from the gathering and she continued with an impish smirk. She paused before proposing the next round’s topic. “Now, walk up to the person you most want to be intimate with, and I mean intimate.”

    The concept would have normally thrown you off guard. That is, if you were completely sober. But right now, your mind was not at all interceded by it. In fact, you were quite open. So open that you walked, on auto-pilot, to Anakin, who also walked, on auto-pilot, towards you. 

    The both of you remained ignorant to the swarms coming up to either one of you (you and Anakin were arguably the most attractive at the party, and everyone had collectively decided they wanted a piece of at least one of you). It was as if you were the only ones in the room. You stood in front of Anakin for a second, both your backs facing the crowd of partygoers behind you that were hoping you’d pay attention to them. You looked at him as if to ask him for confirmation, and you sensed the most imperceptible nod from him. 

    In that moment, nothing else mattered, and Anakin’s skin glowed golden in front of you, a goddess with locks of curly brown hair that you had run your hands through many times, but nothing like the way you thought about while you were trying to go to sleep. And then you leaned in, your faces just inches apart, breathing softly against one another’s lips. You inched your head forward, nuzzling your mouth against his, and he broke the wall between you, reaching in and pressing his lips against yours to lock in a slow, tender kiss. You were unaware of the oohs and aahs coming from all around, because all you were focusing on was the way Anakin’s lips felt soft and warm and wet against yours. The kiss was like no other, it was as if you were melting into his mouth like ice cream on a hot day in Naboo. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair just the way you desired and he pulled you closer into him by the small of your back, and you only pulled apart when you became aware of the crowd watching in a stupor. 

    When you pulled apart, your cheeks flushed warm at the hooting and hollering you were met with, all the raucous applause. But you didn’t pay any attention to the others, you simply continued gazing into Anakin’s eyes as he gazed back into yours, a new lightness in your gaze as if you had cracked the code. Before, this was something you and Anakin had almost been avoiding, dancing around the idea of it like frogs on floating lily pads drifting in a clear pond. You were best friends of course, your bond was unbreakable. But sometimes your touches lingered far too long to just be the touches of a close friend, and sometimes your stare remained far too fixated on Anakin’s lips when he spoke. 

    “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” you could practically hear the smirk in Kitana’s voice— she was always first to point out you and Anakin’s undeniable attraction to each other, no matter how many times the two of you brushed her off with an unbothered chuckle. 

    You giggled, shaking your head, and Anakin laughed too, bringing you in close for a hug. Again, everyone cheered, and once it died down, and Kitana was onto the next round, Anakin was guiding you away from the gathering, his hand on the small of your back. 

    “Uh, I-I-”

    “Anakin, stop right there,” you pressed a finger to his lips. “I know you and I know you’re about to apologize for something we both wanted to do.”

He swallowed and you saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously in his throat, 

    “So do-do you want me?”

    “Yes, Ani. Of course I want you, I-” you stepped closer to him and reached your hand up so it caressed his cheek and ran again through those luscious hazelnut locks of hair. You looked down at the ground, speaking quietly now, “I’ve always wanted you.”

You heard Anakin take in a sharp breath, then steady himself, and you felt his finger on your chin, making you look up at him.

    “Good,” he said in that unusually low and husky voice, his hand grabbing your jaw gently, his thumb rubbing calm circles against your skin. “I want you too.”

A pause as you looked at each other hopefully, and then Anakin let his hand drop to your mouth, his finger dragged along your bottom lip slowly and seductively, maintaining eye contact with you the whole while until the very last minute when his eyes fluttered down to your lips, coated in shiny lip gloss. You stood there in awe, your lips slightly parted until you found the breath to speak.

    “Now,” was all you said, looking up at him needily. 

    “What?” Anakin asked, leaning in in confusion.

    “Right here,” you leaned in even closer, tugging on his only fancy robe while you whispered in his ear. Your breath was warm against his neck and your words trickled down his spine, causing him to jolt forward excitedly. “If you want me, then show me. Take me right here, right now, in one of the bedrooms.”

You weren’t sure where this burst of confidence was coming from, but deep down you knew it was definitely triggered by your high, which was still ongoing and peaking. You pulled away slightly, your lips still at his neck as you looked up at him with eyes that shot daggers.

    “Can you do that for me, Ani? You must know I need you.”

    “Fuck,” Anakin hissed, panting, and as he pressed into you, you could feel how hard he was underneath his robes, and you very purposefully nudged your knee against him. His voice was tight and strained as he spoke the words into the crook of your neck. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

    “I haven’t done a thing to you,” you laughed lowly. “I think you did that all by yourself, Ani.”

You felt your stomach drop suddenly when Anakin huffed and grabbed you tightly by the hand, leading you quickly down the deserted hall and turning into one of the big bedrooms, shutting the door behind him immediately by towering over you with his hands pressed against the door on either side of you. You were locked in beneath him and you could practically see the hunger in his low-hanging eyes, see it in the way his jaw was clenched tight. 

    “Why have you kept this from me for so long?” he breathed heavily, and you replied,

    “We both knew it, it was just a matter of when it would happen.”

    Suddenly, Anakin was kissing you again, and you were kissing him back, and he turned around and pushed up against you until you were both on the plush bed. He hovered over you, his muscles flexing in his arms as he deepened the kiss, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth into his. The kiss was breathless and passionate, burning with the flame of desire struck between the two of you. 

    Before you knew it he was pulling your dress over your head and you were raising your arms up so he could get it over your body, and he threw it to the side onto the floor. He resumed kissing you after an astounded onceover of your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to trap him in, your hands clutching either side of his soft face. 

But suddenly, your lips lost contact with his as he pulled away. You whimpered, looking up at him in confusion and worry when you saw the look on his face.

    “Wait…” he was breathing heavy. “Are you sure about this?”

    “Yes, Anakin, I want you to have me, please,” you pleaded, your tone descending from intense and irritated to begging and delicate. 

You pressed your lips to his again, open-mouthed and kissing needily, but he pulled away once more. You huffed impatiently.

    “No, I mean, really. We’re both... really high right now… a-aren’t you?”

    “Yes, Ani,” you grinned, your heart softened by his consideration. You let your hand gently caress his face and his hair, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. The… weed definitely has made an impact on me, but, not enough to cloud my judgment like this. I know I want you. I’m sure I want you. I need you. Are… are you okay with this?”

Anakin nodded intensely, and you followed suit, nodding your head slowly and placing your hand on his shoulder. 

    “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay with it. I’ve wanted this for,” he gulped, glancing down at your beautiful body and getting distracted, “for so long.”

    “As have I,” you giggled, and you pulled him in for another kiss, slower this time. 

    Every sensation was on ten, his lips against yours, the way his hair brushed lightly against your cheek, how his tongue would run along your bottom lip, slick with wet. Every sensation was like being bounced around on a big cloud in a cotton candy sky. Nothing had ever felt like this before, and it was a result of the chemistry between you two and the substance in your system. Eventually, you got his clothes off, too, running your hands along his abs with zero discretion as he kissed you, his mouth moving further down your body, starting at the neck with plump, tantalizingly slow kisses. You grasped a handful of hair, pulling gently at it and making him moan against your neck. Oh, how sweet his moans sounded to your ear, like audible candy that melted in your mouth. Your Anakin. 

    He made his way down, and once he made his way to your stomach, your legs were shaking with nerves. Every movement he made got closer and closer to your heat. Your stomach lifted and receded with every breath, and Anakin placed his hand on your belly, feeling your breath as your stomach rose and fell. Once you felt his hand there, your breathing calmed. 

    He looked up, his lips still attached to your v-line just above the hem of your underwear,

    “Everything alright?”

    “Yes,” you breathed in. “I’m… just nervous. We’ve never done this.”

    “I understand. I’ll treat you right,” Anakin promised, his tone serious as sin. “Just lay back, I’ll make you feel good. I’m not going to judge you.” He pressed another kiss to your body, this time to your inner thigh, making you gasp. “And if you ever want me to stop, you say so.”

You nodded, 

    “Okay.”

    “Okay.”

    Anakin spent a few more moments just like that, his lips kissing against the plush skin on your inner thighs, one hand interlaced with yours. After one particularly succulent kiss to your inner thigh, a moan rose deep in his throat and he glared up at you.

    “Mm, you taste so good,” he sighed, making your cheeks warm just at the gruff sound of his voice. “Can I?”

    He was pulling gently at your underwear, making sure it was okay if he pulled them down. 

    “Please,” you nodded vigorously, and he pulled them down with ease, sliding them down your legs and throwing them off to the side. You doubted you’d properly be able to find your clothes in this big room after you were done. 

    Anakin let out a shaky breath when he looked down at your pussy, glistening in the dark of the room, wet and throbbing just slightly. He went red in the face, feeling like he was doing something so against the rules— he was face to face with his best friend in your most vulnerable state. But the idea of it only turned him on. 

    “So pretty,” he breathed, placing a kiss on your mound.

You whimpered slightly, watching his every move. Smoothly, without haste, he flicked his tongue against your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds. You practically lurched forward at the feeling of the tip of his tongue against you, so sensitive and so warm. He dipped his tongue in further, lips closing in around the tip of your clit as he did so. You moaned, your eyes rolling back at the magical sensation of pleasure,

    “Yes, Anakin.”

    He moaned against you, his voice vibrating against your pussy, making you groan and tug at his hair. He closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he practically made out with your pussy. You laid there in complete ecstasy while Anakin made you feel so good, as promised. You nearly shrieked when he started to fuck you earnestly with his tongue, letting it delve deep in and out of you, exploring up and down as he used his thumb to gently rub circles against your sensitive clit. 

    “Oh gods,” you cried out, gripping harder onto his hair. “How—oh—where did you learn this?”

    Anakin just chuckled against you, and your legs closed around his head as the pleasure became excruciatingly good. Once again everything was on ten. The drug had you feeling like you could feel every little sensation, and it was all so amazing. 

    “Ani, baby, I’m gonna come,” your voice grew broken and whiny as you scrunched your eyes shut, bucking your hips up closer to his face and feeling his tongue slide impossibly deeper into you while he did some inexplicable trick. “Please don’t stop, please don’t—”

    You mewled loudly when he pulled away just as you were about to reach that peak, leaving you throbbing around absolutely nothing, his hands pushing your shaking legs apart.

    “Why’d you stop?” you pouted, lamenting the feeling of his tongue inside you and his lips against you.

    “Because you’re going to come on my cock,” he demanded as he reached up and hovered over you, face to face with you now. 

The flash you saw in his eyes could only be described as a fire, and you couldn’t argue with him in such a state. This was a side of Anakin you’d never seen before, and it had you running your hands all over his body like a needy little puppy. 

    “But first,” Anakin said, only completing his sentence by taking two of his fingers and placing them at your lips. You opened with ease, coating his fingers in your spit and sucking on them while you looked hungrily into each other’s eyes. “Good girl,” he praised you, and before you knew it those fingers were leading down to your pussy, which was only now recovering from its declined orgasm. 

You shook with a cry as Anakin slid his fingers into you like it was nothing, stretching you out.

    “Shh,” he shushed you gently, kissing your cheek, before he pulled his fingers out and put them to his lips, sucking on his fingers just as you had his. He closed his eyes, reveling in the taste of you, like a forbidden fruit. He went back down again, fucking deep into you twice with his fingers, causing you to shudder and grip his bare, toned back. 

This time, he put his fingers, coated with your slick arousal, to your lips, and you obliged, sucking his fingers with fervor. 

    “Here,” he’d said. “See how good you taste?”

    “Mmm,” you moaned around his fingers, holding his wrist and sucking hungrily. 

Anakin’s jaw ticked, watching your face, that cunning smile of yours as your lips closed around his fingers, the way your eyes seemed to pull him in without even trying. 

    “You like the way you taste, don’t you? Filthy thing,” he said through gritted teeth, and you nodded slowly, biting down on your lip once you let his fingers slide out of your mouth. He pulled off his boxers. “Are you ready?”

    “Yes, I’m ready.”

    With a shaky breath, Anakin gripped the base of his dick, his brows furrowed in concentration as he guided himself up to you, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance. You both let out a slight gasping sound in reaction, and you looked up at Anakin with wide, awe-filled eyes. He slipped into you easily, and by that point you were both looking down to watch him stretch you out as your folds widened over the tip and shaft, until a good portion of him was inside you, thick and big and filling. 

    “Mmh,” you squirmed underneath him, and his eyes glanced up from your core to your face. Your brows were knit together and your lips were drawn down at the corners, the pleasure almost unbearable. “More, please.”

    He abided silently, pushing deeper into you, forcing you both into silence as you concentrated on how good it felt. You enveloped Anakin perfectly, like a love letter sealed with hot, red wax. When you looked up at Anakin, his mouth was open in an o-shape and his brows were furrowed, and he was looking unabashedly into your eyes. They were as rich a brown as they had ever been, and still tinged with that red that made his eyes droop slightly, so every loo from him was a sultry gaze. You couldn’t help it, breaking the silence to whimper because he felt so good unmoving and throbbing inside you, and his intense facial expression had you salivating. 

    You squeezed involuntarily around him as if your pussy was begging him to move, and he let out a shuddering moan, swearing,

    “Fuck.”  

Feeling encouraged by his admission, you moaned and put a hand over his back, grasping the muscle there and saying,

    “Please move, Ani, it feels too good-”

    You were cut off by his sudden thrusting motion, deep and swift yet gentle all at once, plunging into you and then back out again, until he gathered a continuous momentum. By then, you were cursing and saying his name and tears were welling up in your eyes. Nothing had ever felt so good before, and you were so wet that you thought you could last forever. Each time he pulled out of you was a loss, and you fixated on those few seconds where he wasn’t inside you by wishing he’d be inside of you once again. Every sensation you felt set your soul on fire and pulled words out of your mouth you’d never imagined yourself saying. 

    When you were close, you had wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him so all he could do was push deeper inside you. You had your faces buried in each other’s neck, moaning against soft, sweaty skin, and a burning sensation began to fill your stomach and travel down as you released around him, coming like a waterfall and moaning his name, your nails digging little crescent moons into his back,

    “Fu-fuck, Anakin!” you groaned, your voice hoarse and half-gone, squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged at his hair and pulled your hands around his neck. You rode out your high, mumbling incoherent phrases as he kept on pushing into you, chasing his own high after yours. 

    Your lips, tucked away in the crook of his neck, brushed against his ear, and he was done for, that feathery sensation combined with your dripping pussy absolutely soaking around him pushed him over the edge, and he came with a violent moan, his hips stuttering as he faded into you. Your name, as well as plenty of other things, fell out of his lips as he came, spurts of his hot cum shooting into you. He collapsed on top of you, sweaty bodies flush against one another. You could feel his chest rising and falling against yours, just as he felt your chest puff up against his own. 

    Then, the only sounds in the room were those of you breathing heavily, catching your breath like you were returning back to reality and the only world you truly knew, outside of the paradise you had found in one another for those few lingering moments. Anakin’s body heat against yours operated like a warm blanket, and you found yourselves staying there for a moment, wet and sweaty and dirty and somehow purified in the oddest of ways. When Anakin finally rolled away after what felt like hours later, on his back on the large bed beside you and still breathing heavily, you finally felt your high starting to wear off. It was like the longer you were intimate, the longer the high lasted, and now that that was truly over, you were coming back down. 

    You still felt euphoric, on cloud nine, your body abuzz with that glow you get post coitus. And you looked over at Anakin, to see that he was already looking over at you, his lips quirked up in a charming, boyish smile so typical of him. You leaned on your side and smiled back at him, your eyes locking in a knowing gaze. You leaned into him and kissed his button nose, and he chuckled, scrunching his nose up like a rabbit. You ran a hand through his hair, which was hardly out of place despite the past activities, and you shook your head with a light laugh. 

    “We should have done this a long time ago, no?” you joked, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

    “Well,” he started, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Now that we know how it feels, we have all the time in the world to do it again… and again, and again, and—”

    “Alright, alright, you horndog,” you chortled. “I suppose you are right, though.”

    “Mm hm, you know I am,” Anakin replied, his hand dropping down to your shoulder to caress your arm. “We should go see Kitana before the night is over, don’t you think?”

    “Why, so she can announce to everyone that we had sex?” you asked with a laugh. 

    “No, silly,” Anakin shook his head with an amused grin. “For more of that stuff.”

[felagund-fiollaigean]

Peace like a river (always going, never getting)

 A Jedi: Fallen Order fanfic.

5k words of child soldier angst, fluff, hugs, an 8-year-old Jyn Erso discovering her penchant for inflicting blunt force trauma, a jam session around a campfire with Space Booze, and Merrin and Cal finding a moment of respite to feel young and carefree, taking comfort in each other after a traumatizing lifetime of raw survival.

Read it here or under the cut!

Saw and his rebel band could be uptight and overzealous sometimes, but they sure knew how to throw a party.

They were in the middle of one of the most isolated forests of Corvus, where they had earlier cleaned out an Imperial munitions plant. There had already been so much devastation wrought to the moon’s forests, but it was a big win nevertheless, and Saw had insisted in a rare magnanimous display that the crew of the Mantis join him and his partisans for some revelries. A massive bonfire had been lit with the flammable remnants of the factory they had scrapped. Saw’s motley crew was in high spirits tonight, exchanging drinks and jokes and puffs from a t’bac bowl.

Cere had brought her hallikset down with her, and was joined by a Weequay on a Sriluurian fiddle. The two had gathered a small audience of rebels enthusiastically shouting requests for this song or another, singing along raucously if obliged. Greez had gotten roped into a game of dice with a trio of drop troopers, and Cal was keeping a careful eye on the game to make sure the pile of credits in the center wasn’t getting too big. BD-1 had strayed from his perch on Cal’s shoulder to explore, making his rounds around the fire to meet everyone and scan everything in sight. He catches a glimpse of Merrin across the fire, nodding along to what one of the rebels was telling her about and tapping her foot along with the music.

Cal's managed to get himself pleasantly tipsy. The alcohol he's consumed so far has him feeling warm and loose and lighter than he's felt in a long time. There's no shortage of friendly conversation to be found either, and his status as the resident Jedi is making him fairly popular among Saw’s band. Cal doesn’t mind the attention, personally. So far no one has asked invasive questions like “So what was the clones' betrayal like for you, Cal?” or “You were only a padawan during the purge, right Cal?” or “How does it feel to be the last survivor of your order, Cal?”

The mood is celebratory and relaxed, and Cal is happy to forget about all the atrocities in the galaxy for a while with the rest of them.

He's distracted momentarily when he discovers that BD-1 had made a new friend. A human girl around eight years old, cheeks still round from baby fat and an oversized flak helmet on her head, fawning over the small droid. Cal studies her closer. He didn’t see her during the fighting (and thank the Force for that, at least this child didn’t have to grow up a soldier like he and his friends did), but she's the only child he's seen so far among Saw’s party. Struck by curiosity, he makes his way around the circle of flames and sits down on the damp grass next to her.

“Hey.”

She doesn't look up from where she's fiddling with the antenna on top of BD-1’s head. “Hi.”

“What’s your name?”

This time, she does look at him.

“You’re one of the ones from the Mantis, right?”

Her evasion of the question he asked doesn’t escape him, but he doesn’t press the issue. He wasn’t exactly an open book in his youth either.

“Yup. I’m Cal, and this here is BD-1.”

She frowns at him. “I know. I can speak binary,” she says, as if offended by the insinuation that she couldn’t.

Cal doesn’t let it faze him. “That’s good, not many people can.”

“I’m Jyn.”

Cal smiles to himself. He holds out his hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Jyn.”

She accepts the handshake, squeezing his hand in a fierce grip with her little fingers.

“Ouch, you got a strong grip there,” he says, exaggeratedly shaking the pain out of his right hand.

Jyn nods. “Saw says that a firm handshake establishes dominance quickly.”

“Well, it's working,” he says with a smile. “Is Saw your dad?”

Jyn frowns bitterly, and Cal instantly regrets asking. “Not really, she says, shaking her head. “He’s just raising me.”

Now there was a loaded response. Cal wonders what happened to her parents. Were they dead? Or was there another reason why she was in the middle of the woods with a band of militants and Saw Gerrera. Was it possible that she-

Cal shivers, and reaches out into the Force, only to withdraw with dismay a moment later. The Force flowed around her like it did every other being, but she lacked that spark of connection, that synchronization to the energy of life that other Force-sensitives had. He tries not to let his disappointment show on his face and steers the conversation away from either of their pasts, waving his hand to indicate the group gathered in the forest clearing. “Are all of these people your friends?”

She shrugs. “Sort of. I know most of them, but they don’t hang around much because they’re usually off on missions and stuff for Saw.”

“Does it ever get lonely?”

“No, I don’t mind being by myself. It does get boring though. Hey, can I have some of that?”

“What, this?” He holds up his cup, still half-full of Sunberry wine.

“Yeah.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Um, I’m not sure that’s a great idea, it wouldn’t be very responsible of me. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to drink when you’re older.” Internally, he cringes at his own words. Since when did he begin to sound like his master?

“That’s what all the others say. I thought you would be cool,” she says with a huff of disappointment.

Cal is momentarily tempted to give in, if only to salvage his status of “cool” in the eyes of this girl. But he really doesn’t want to get in trouble with their newfound allies by getting their surrogate daughter drunk on their very first meeting.

“Hey, I’m definitely cool. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m 8, and I think if I’m old enough to start training for field missions, I’m old enough to have something to drink that’s interesting. But so far, I'm the only one who thinks that.”

Training for field missions. Training for- Saw was training her for the field already?

Eight. She’s eight years old. He tries to picture this girl - with her tiny button nose and flyaway hairs escaping from braided pigtails - wearing her flak helmet and clutching a blaster, taking shelter in a foxhole as Imperial fire rains down. They at least had let him wait until he was 12 before he shipped out with Master Tapal and the clones in the 13th, this girl was practically still a baby.

Instinctively, he looks to Merrin, the only other person he knows who would understand. But Merrin isn’t where he saw her last. His eyes scan the clearing, and catch sight of her at the edge of the forest, at the start of the path that leads to the cliff edge nearby that overlooks the valley.

He wonders why she’s leaving, and if she wanted him to follow.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?”

Jyn is looking at him expectantly. Kriff.

“Uh, sorry, Jyn. Zoned out for a minute there. What was that?”

“I asked you if you know how to shoot a blaster, or if you only use your lightsaber and stuff.”

“Oh. Uh, I prefer the lightsaber I guess."

"Can I hold it?”

Cal blinks. Hold his lightsaber? He glances around the fire. He doesn’t have a problem with it, personally, but for the second time that evening, he is taken aback by his newfound position as an adult responsible for the wellbeing of a child. He unclips it from his belt.

“Yes. But,” he says, and doesn’t continue speaking until she’s torn her excited gaze away from his saber hilt to meet his eyes. “Let’s not ignite it here, okay? So be careful with the button. Got it?”

She nods, and he passes it to her.

She takes it reverently, holding it carefully in both hands and turning it over, examining it from all angles. Her little fingers barely wrap all the way around the circumference of the hilt. Cal is pleased to see she gingerly arranges her fingers so as not to accidentally trigger the ignition. BD-1 stands on her thigh, examining it with her even though he’s seen it hundreds of times already.

“It’s heavier than I thought,” she remarks. “Is it fun?”

“Is what fun?”

She shrugs. “You know. Using it, and fighting with it.”

Cal thinks for a moment. He doesn’t think of fighting as something fun. Usually, when he has to use it’s saber, it’s because somebody is trying to kill him and he will have to kill them in return. But his mind is drawn back to building his first saber as a youngling, and the thrill of feeling each component of the hilt assembling into something uniquely his. Of practicing kata or sparring in the temple, saber moving with power and fluidity as an extension of his own self. Of igniting his second saber for the first time on Illum, feeling the heat of the blade on his face and the crystal within calling out to him as if reuniting with an old friend.

And he finds himself saying, “Yeah. It’s pretty fun.”

She seems to consider something for a moment, and hands it back. “I know that I’m not a Jedi or anything, but do you think I would be good at fighting with one if I was?”

He busies himself with affixing his lightsaber back to his belt and taking a swallow from his rapidly-cooling wine as he considers how best to answer her bid for validation.

“How about the next time we come to work for Saw, you and I find out together?”

She looks at him accusingly. “But I don’t have a lightsaber, how would I do that?”

He shoots a look at BD-1, who seems to nod encouragingly.

“Before any Jedi builds their own lightsaber, we train with sticks and staves. We practice with ordinary weapons before we ever take up a lightsaber. I could teach you, if you wanted. You don’t need to be a Jedi to hit somebody with a stick."

She laughs at this, evidently not expecting so elegant a weapon to be compared to a common stick. “What if I wandered around with a stick tied to one side of my belt, and bonked people on the head like it was a tube of flimsi towels?” she says, shaking her fist as she raps Cal’s own skull with an imaginary cardboard tube.

Cal smiles. “Stormtrooper helmets aren’t very good quality, but they’re a bit tougher than your average flimsi-towel tube. We’ll have to find you something sturdier to practice with.”

Jyn stares at him, looking a bit shocked. “Were you serious about teaching me?”

BD-1 trills with affirmation, hopping from one little foot to the other in excitement.

“Of course. Not tonight, but we’ll see each other again. Someday, I’ll show you how to fight with one of these.

Her eyes are shining with excitement, and she holds out a tiny pinky. “Promise?”

He locks his little finger with hers, and says “I promise. You should be able to defend yourself as much as possible, when you’re out there.”

What he means is, I’m not going to let you die like the others, not if I can help it.

But he doesn’t say that, because Jyn is still young and dreams of glory, and the cruelty of the galaxy will find her soon enough without any of his help. She’s like him and Merrin now. A survivor.

Speaking of Merrin…

She’s still not back, and Cal eyes the entrance to the first path with apprehension. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, he knows that. And if she had run into trouble, she would be able to make enough of a fuss to be noticeable from here.

Still.

He takes a final swig from his cup and leaves it behind him on the grass as he stands, and tries not to groan at the stiffness in his knees.

“I’m gonna go for a walk, make sure Merrin’s okay,” He says. “You two…” he points from Jyn to BD-1 in turn “Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Okay,” Jyn says casually, resuming her fiddling with BD-1’s antennae as BD-1 chirps contentedly. “Don’t get lost.”

Cal isn’t worried about getting lost. He’d traveled the footpath from the clearing to the cliff ledge multiple times in the daylight. But this time, as the shadows of the trees close around him, cutting him off from the warmth of the fire and his gathered friends, his mind began to wander back to his conversation with Jyn.

Was Saw really going to send this child out to fight? At least with him, they hadn’t had a choice, they hadn’t just...

No, they had. The Jedi order made a choice to send him out onto the front lines as a soldier at the age of 12. They did the same to Caleb and Zett and Skywalker’s padawan, Ahsoka, who at the age of 14 had seemed so mature to Cal when he first met her. They had all grown up under blasterfire and canonfire and the shrill scream of bombers, and now Jyn was going to have to do the same.

He makes the decision then to ask the rest of the crew to take on as many jobs for Saw as they can. He knows he isn’t invincible. He can’t save the entire galaxy by himself, but if he can be here for Jyn, maybe….

Maybe he could be for her what Prauf was for him. A guide, an anchor, someone who would have her back when the going gets tough, as it inevitably does.

It takes 7 standard minutes and two stumbles over protruding roots before the trees thin out and Cal finds himself at the clearing on top of the cliff. It’s a stunning view. Corvus’ twin moons cast a wan glow over the valley, and the dark sea of trees below them stretches out all the way to the horizon, leaving the star-studded sky open and clear and resplendent. He isn’t alone, and nearly starts out of his poncho before he remembers why he came out this way and recognizes Merrin sitting on the edge, kicking her dangling feet back and forth. She seems to notice him at the same time he notices her.

“Did nobody ever warn you about sneaking up on a Nightsister?”

Cal smiles in the way he can’t help but smile whenever she’s near. “They probably did, and I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Foolish of you,” she says, patting the spot on the grass next to her. “What are you doing out here?”

Cal accepts the invitation, and eases himself down beside her, dangling his legs over the edge as she did. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to keep you company if you didn’t want to be alone.”

She smiles a little, making the dimples in her cheeks stand out. “Thoughtful of you. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“I was. Saw knows how to throw a pretty good shindig.”

“I will have to take your word for it. I haven’t been to many shindigs, as you call them.”

“Yeah, I guess Dathomir wasn’t really known for it’s party scene.”

“As a matter of fact,” she says dryly, “It wasn’t.

“Did you meet Jyn?”

“Was she the little one you were talking to?”

Cal sighs deeply. “Yeah, she was.”

Merrin draws the silence out, leaving room in the air between them for Cal to say what he was thinking. He wasn’t even sure how to express it, but felt compelled to try. Besides, if anyone knew how he was feeling, Merrin would.

“She’s only eight. Saw’s training her for the field.”

Merrin makes a neutral humming noise in the back of her throat. “It will be good for her to learn early. Better start now, so she will be stronger when she’s grown.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know. She’s really young, and I…. I never really thought about the kind of childhood we had, and how it really wasn’t a childhood at all, until now. And it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“It is difficult to see it happen to someone else with your own eyes, now that you’re grown.” Merrin’s voice is unusually gentle, but she wastes no time getting to the heart of the issue as usual.

“Yeah, exactly. I wish she could grow up in a more peaceful galaxy, and not have to fight.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly overwhelmed by a bitter surge of emotion. “And she’s not just out there for her own life. These rebels are fighting because so many can’t fight for themselves. She’s going to be responsible for a galaxy full of people older than her, adults who should be protecting her, not the other way around!  And it’s not… it’s not fair.”

The sentiment sounds childish to his own ears - he’s long stopped believing that the universe was fair -  but his chest aches with the truth of it. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where he and Merrin could have had their childhoods free of fighting and and death and raw survival, where they could simply be two teenagers: Drinking and talking and watching the stars. Where Jyn could simply be a child. With her parents. Going to school, making friends her own age, catching bugs and playing with dolls and collecting model starfighters.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Merrin says “There’s no use dwelling on what could have been, Cal. This is the world we’ve been given. We’re here, so we’ll keep her as safe as we can for as long as we can, and when we can’t anymore, well. You and I survived, didn’t we?”

He glances at her to find she’s already holding his gaze.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Then why can’t Jyn?”

Trust only in the Force.

He takes a deep breath in and exhales, and with it releases his fear and anxiety and regret into the Force, like snow melting off a mountainside.

Sometimes, he thinks Merrin would have made a better Jedi than he ever did.

“You’re right, as always,” he says, and a comfortable silence ensues between them for the next few moments as they watch the stars together.

“Hey,” Cal says, tilting his head towards the southwest. “That constellation kind of looks like Greez.”

She follows his gaze, searching the horizon with bright eyes. “Where?”

He extends his arm and points up at the vaguely Latero-shaped cluster of stars. “There. See?”

“Huh. I think it sort of looks like a dick.”

“Do you mean it actually looks like a penis, or that Greez is just a dick?”

Merrin considers for a moment. “Yes to both.”

Cal snorts.

They carry on that way, and make a game of trying to find the shapes of their friends in the stars. Until something occurs to Cal.

“Hey, why did you leave anyway?” He asks.

“Well, it was… you know.” Merrin sighs, and Cal copies her earlier silence, the open air of the night waiting for her words.

“On Dathomir, and even with you and the crew of the Mantis, I always knew that I belonged, and it’s easy to know what to do. I’ve… I’ve never been around so many people before who didn’t know me.”

Cal thinks he knows what she means, but he lets her go on.

“Cere has her music, and Greez loses our money at games, most beings find you handsome and pleasant and easy to talk to, and of course everyone loves your little droid. But I don’t know what the rules are, yet. To being with so many people who aren’t like me.”

Cal feels his face flush hot at her words. Merrin thought he was handsome? But he didn’t let himself dwell on the compliment.  

“You know you’re one of us though, right?”

Merrin had an impressive sabacc face by anyone’s standards, but Cal had known her long enough by now to learn her tells. Right now, for instance, the slightest tension in her brown told him that she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey, I mean it. Socializing takes practice, it definitely did for me when I first ended up on Bracca. The first year was awkward and confusing, but we really care about you. I know it won’t be the same as your sisters on Dathomir, but you have a place here, for as long as you want it.”

Merrin nods, slow and contemplative. “I do, and I care about you too, but it doesn’t feel the same as I thought it would all the time. So many things are unfamiliar, it gets overwhelming. Cere’s music was nice but I don’t know any of the songs that the others do. The music on Dathomir wasn’t quite so… exuberant, but at least I knew all the words.”

Cal leans back on his arms to better look her in the eye.

“Well, that problem shouldn’t be a hard one to fix.”

Merrin mirrors his movements to regard him in return. “What do you mean?

“I’ll send you some music before the next shindig, whenever it is.”

Merrin raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You want me to listen to that caterwauling you call music?”

“First of all,” he says, holding up a reproachful finger. “It’s not caterwauling. And I’ll make you a playlist, even. Cal Kestis’ Guide to Exploring the Galaxy Through Music. And next time Saw has a party you’re going to sing and get drunk and be ridiculous with the rest of us. We can pretend we’re regular, irresponsible teenagers having fun for once.”

She turns away again to study the terrain below them. “I would do no such thing. I am the epitome of grace and beauty, and will not bring disgrace upon the Nightsisters of Dathomir by fraternizing with the likes of you in such a way.” Her tone is imperious and unyielding, but he notices the faintest upturn in the corners of her mouth and knows she's only teasing.

“That’s a lie! You’re just as weird as the rest of us, admit it.”

“I should sue you on grounds of defamation of character.”

“How? You don’t know any lawyers and we’re both enemies of the state.”

“Semantics.” She lies down onto her back, face tilted to the night sky. The light of Corvus’ moon casts a glow on her face that makes her grey complexion look like a moon itself, ethereal and resplendent. “Very well. I will let you educate me about ‘music,’” she says, making quotes in the air with her fingers, “on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Next time we’re at one of these, what did you call them? Shindigs? You are going to dance with me.”

Cal hesitates. “Well… I’m really not a very good dancer, Merrin.”

“I know that. But I have hopes of improving you. You will find I am a marvelous teacher. My sisters and I would dance when we had… nights like this.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but Cal is no stranger to longing for a past that was cruelly ripped away. As shy as he felt about dancing in public, he wasn’t going to let her miss a chance to give her back something she loved about her home.

“Okay then. You can teach me to dance.”

Merrin grins, looking delighted.

Yeah. He would waltz arm-in-arm with the Ninth Sister if only to see Merrin smile like that again. He copies her in lying down on his back, breathing deeply of the forest air.

Moments where it’s just the two of them together, without the rest of the crew or even BD-1 around are few and far between and tragically short at that, so Cal decides to relish every minute of it as it is. The stillness, the beauty of the night sky on Corvus, lying next to her so close their shoulders are a hair’s breadth from touching, and nowhere they need to be for the next standard rotation.

Yeah, Cal could get used to this. He sneaks another glance at Merrin.

Judging by the way her eyes are closed and her breathing has deepened, Merrin is even more relaxed than he is.

He smiles, glad that she’s finally resting properly. Sleep is hard to come by in their line of work, and Merrin works harder than the rest of them, since her magick is so vital to sneaking the Mantis past Imperial blockades.

The thought of work and blockades and their myriad responsibilities must be what jinxes him, because just at that moment, his comm chirps and Merrin jerks awake.

“Sorry, Merrin,” he says sheepishly. He wishes whoever was trying to get in touch with them could have at least given her a few more minutes to sleep.

“It’s fine,” she replies. “See who it is, it might be important.”

Regretfully, he answers the comm. “Cal here.”

“You kids better have been kidnapped or something,” blares Greez’s voice from Cal’s wrist. “Because if I find out you two have been canoodling in those woods, I swear I’ll-”

“Kriff, Greez! No one’s canoodling!” He silently damns his own face for blushing, and hopes Merrin doesn’t notice. “We were just on a walk.”

“Oh, that’s what they’re calling it these days? And where did you hear that language?”

“The last time? From you,” Cal deadpans.

"Yeah okay, smartass. Merrin’s with you?”

“She is,” Merrin says.

“Swell. Look, fire’s getting low, Saw’s getting impatient, Cere broke a string, and that little droid of yours is about to bust a servo with how much he’s worrying about you. So you might want to get back here. We’ll pack up the Mantis, make the jump to Taanab and sleep on the way. Got it?”

Cal sighs, and shares a knowing look with Merrin. So much for peace and quiet.

But such was the life of survivors like them.

“We hear you, Greez. We’ll be back shortly.”

“And no detours! Don’t need you two giving each other any diseases or-”

“Yup, we got it, thanks,” he says quickly, before Greez can add any more input on what they should or shouldn’t do on their way back. “Cal out.”

He shuts off his comlink, closes his eyes, and sighs for what feels like the millionth time that evening. When he opens his eyes, Merrin is pointing towards the southwest.

“Like I said. Dick.”

He laughs, embarrassment forgotten in a moment.

“You were right about that,” he says, then stands up and offers her a hand for assistance.

The scathing look she gives him would have cowed a lesser man, but Cal stands his ground, silently daring her to accept his chivalry. She does give in, as he knew she would, using him as leverage to pull herself to her feet.

But what he didn’t know that she would do was draw herself closer still and wrap her arms around his shoulders.

It takes him by surprise, but he gathers himself quickly. The gaping hole in his chest that made their last (and so far, only) hug a rather painful ordeal is now nothing but a blot of pinkish scar tissue, so he returns her embrace wholeheartedly, settling his arms against her back and waist. Merrin takes a deep, tremulous breath, and he rubs her back tenderly to soothe her.

She doesn’t show any interest in letting go yet, so he lets himself linger as long as she’s willing to, dreading the moment of pulling away. He can’t remember the last time he had ever felt like this. Physical affection on Bracca and the Mantis was limited to back slaps and shoulder pats and handshakes sealed with the spit of a promise. He remembers falling asleep cuddled next to his fellow crechemates as a very small youngling at the temple, but they had abandoned such childish actions when they left the creche. Now that he considers it, he can’t remember the last time he had been held.

And suddenly he feels untethered and desperate and weak at the knees and he squeezes her as close to him as he can without hurting her. He lets out a harsh breath that turns into a whimper, and muffles the sound in the crook of her neck. Her arms around his shoulders tighten in response. He imagines himself physically soaking in the hug, letting her warmth and her weight in his arms seep through his skin and shore up his defenses that have been stretched too thin for far too long.  

A hundred years could have gone by, and Cal would have been content for both of them to stay right where they were for the entirety of it. But Merrin loosens her grip on him so he reluctantly does the same. It’s only then he realizes that he had managed to lift her completely off her feet, and she drops the few inches back to the ground awkwardly, landing on his toes.

“Ow, kriff, I’m sorry,” He fumbles. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” she chuckles, tugging the hem of her tunic back into place. “It was nice. You’re a good friend, Cal. You give good hugs.”

Affection wells in his chest and swells his heart so full he’s afraid it will burst. His feelings for her lately have been… complex. And confusing. And he doesn’t really know what to do with them, except to stay by her side for as long as he can, wherever they go.

“I’m- I’m so glad I met you,” is all he knows to say. And as an addendum, “You give good hugs too.”

The words sounded lame as soon as he said them, but Merrin beamed as if he had recited the sonnets of Adranax.

Until her face nearly splits down the middle in a massive yawn she belatedly tries to cover with the back of her hand. He puts an arm around her shoulders then steers them both towards the path that will take them back to the others.

“Come on,” he says. “Long day tomorrow.”

“It always is, isn’t it.”

“That’s true.” He takes one last look behind them at the moon-soaked landscape, committing it to memory as best as he can.

This is a night he never wants to forget.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Smoothie Ideas

I’ll just be like, who wants to hear all my smoothie ideas? and not wait for an answer. If I had access to all of these and a good amount of space to work with as well as room in a freezer, and a good blender/food processor, this is what I would do. All plant parts in equal amounts. Plus plain yogurt and silky tofu for texture. And maple syrup, honey, and cane sugar for added sweetness.

Black smoothie

honey: fall

acai

aubergine

black apple

black fig

black goji

black huckleberry

black jellyroll mushroom

black jujube

black nightshade berries: eastern glossy sunberry

black pansy

black sapote

black trumpet mushroom

blackberry jam fruit

blackcurrants: American golden European northern

blueberries: bilberry bog common deerberry highbush hillside lowbush

Canadian gooseberry

carob

cherries: Bing black choke pin

chia seed

chocolate

chokeberry

coffee bean

common buckthorn

common elderberry

crowberry

grapes: black concord riverbank witchfinger

hackberry

haskap

Hungarian hawthorn

jaboticaba

jamun

jostaberry

mulberries: black red white

nonifruit

pechiche

plums: black damson sloe

poppyseed

raspberries and blackberries: Allegheny blackberry black raspberry Canadian blackberry common dewberry glandstem blackberry leafy-bracted blackberry marionberry Pennsylvania blackberry setose blackberry swamp dewberry youngberry

serviceberries: Canadian Bartram juneberry downy inland serviceberry low shadbush berry pigeon berry roundleaf serviceberry saskatoon smooth serviceberry

viburnum berries: mapleleaf nannyberry smooth arrowwood witherod

Virginia creeper berry

[swellwriting]

Datapads and Love Letters Pt.3

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Reader x Armitage Hux

Warnings: Smut yet again because I have no self-control.

Request: Please write a part 3 to the Hux fanfic. Maybe one of Kylo being jealous and trying to dissuade the reader from being with Hux.

A/N: Serving you some more Hux and some more Kylo, all in one! I roll a three-sided dice to decide whether to call him Hux, General or Armitage so I’m sorry for that business. ALSO lots of I-N-T-I-M-A-C-Y-!!!

Word Count: 2.5k    Previous Part Two   Part 4

Sunberry red wine stains his pale lips making them somehow look even more kissable. You take the wine glass from his hand, finish it and then place it on the floor outside the tub, bubbles drip onto the black tile, white iridescence contrasting smooth black. You’re sitting on top of him, a site he can’t comprehend, so beautiful and intimate and he still thinks this is some fever dream.

You lean against him, wrap your arms behind his neck and kiss him, he tastes like the sunberries, you prod his mouth open with your tongue, wanting more.

The bath started normal, sitting with your back pressed against him, relaxing. But now you were careless about the splashing bubbles and puddles on the floor tile, moving against him without care as you kissed him, noses butting.

You keep messing up the kiss, your mouth breaking into a smile until you cant keep focus and just giggle against his mouth. He’s concerned at first, he doesn't understand what’s so funny.

“What?” he asks quietly, smiling too now against your lips, happy to hear your cute laughter.

“Nothing I’m just, just happy, this is fun I’m having fun,” you say trying to explain your self. Hux thinks for a moment that his heart has stopped, he can’t handle so much pure goodness, the adoration in your eyes and voice is too much. He leans forward, you’re still sat in his lap as he rests his forehead against your collarbones and chest, his hair tickling your chin as you rest it on his head.

He kisses in between your breasts, wet skin meets his lips, kisses become sloppy, the taste of wine on his tongue stronger than the soapy bubbles on your skin.

His hands travel to your hips and you know what he wants, where he’s going with this.

“Can we?” he asks in between kisses, working his way your neck.

“So soon?” You tease and he blushes darker than his wine-stained lips.

“Oh no, I just...” he tries to explain himself and you giggle bringing a finger to his mouth to quiet him.

“I'm just teasing! You think you can do it again though?”

He raises a brow, silently asking what you mean.

“Oh, well men sometimes can’t go again, so soon. Usually, you’d need a bit of time to, mmm, recover is not the word I’m looking for but I think you get what I mean.”

He nods his head understanding, he feels foolish and unexperienced, like he should know more about these things. The only time sex was talked about in the academy was how it ruined soldiers, and that it was forbidden. Which makes sense from a school point of view who doesn't want any academy babies being born.

“Have you never-?” You ask and he doesn't catch on, so you sink your hand into the bubbly water and wrap your fingers around him, he’s soft in your grasp until you start moving your hand slowly up and down, he closes his eyes from the action, and puts his forehead back against your chest “-touched yourself?” you finished and he was glad his face was hidden because he couldn’t imagine how red it was, his face felt burning hot against your cool wet skin.

He feels almost as if he is in trouble, for what he’s not sure, but he doesn't want to admit this to you, he feels dirty to say it allowed.

He brings his lips to yours quickly, kissing you hard, bucking into your hand desperately.

“I'm gonna assume you have.” You say, so calmly talking about such a personal subject with him, but you feel so at peace with him, so content and free, why hold anything back. He nods while still kissing you, you smile against his lips.

“It’s okay, it’s not a bad thing, I have to.” You admit as you let go of him and grab his hand that was caressing your breasts and bring it between your bodies and guide his fingers to where they were before. “I've thought about you,” you admit and he stops kissing you, looking at you in awe.

“That weird?” You mumble, cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“No, it’s not weird, I just never imagined you would then…” he trails off as you kiss him again, he moves his fingers inside you and you start pumping his cock again, moving your hands out of sync, splashing water all over the place.

“Did you ever do it more than once?” You ask, curious if all of your efforts would be for nothing.

“Sometimes, it depends,” he admits quietly accidentally biting your lip as you rub a soapy thumb over his tip.

“Think we can do it?” You ask playfully and he quickly nods his head before you even finish speaking.

“Yes absolutely.”

You move closer to him, hover above his cock that’s gripped in your fingers, he doesn't take his fingers away, still sliding them in and out, his palm rubbing against your clit, you close your eyes and rest your forehead on his.

“You kinda gotta move your hand,”

“Oh,” he mumbled and fumbles, grabbing your hips and helping you move onto him, he slides inside easy and you waste no time, no pausing through transitions.

With each rise of your hips more bubbles and water splash out, you don't care enough to control your quick movements, you’re moaning into the kiss, into his mouth, he bites your lip again, mumbles an apology. He holds your hips tight, reaching fro control as he stops your movement, you feel him come inside you and then continue to move your hips as he watches your face expectantly.

You rest your forehead against his as you reach your high, stomach twisting, eyes rolling back. His face is elated, but he looks proud of himself. He pulls you flush against his chest and scoops water in his hands and lets it drip down your back, his fingers follow the liquid, running his open hand down your back and then bringing more water up. Your head is resting on his shoulder, heartbeat calming, breaths getting slower.

“You’re going to fall asleep in the tub.” He says quietly, trying to crane his neck to see your face.

“We can go to bed.”

Before long you’re sitting at the end of his bed, wrapped in a large towel, one is wrapped around your hair too. He brings you a pair of his pyjamas that should fit you well enough and you take them with a smile, he watches you get dressed, still in awe of you, that you’re his, that he gets to touch your body.

“What side do you sleep on?” You ask as you crawl up the bed, he points to the right so you crawl to the other side and pull the thick blankets over top of you. He follows quickly and is glad that you make the first move to cuddle up to him, holding him close as you quickly fall asleep.

The next morning you wake up early, you have a droid bring you your belongings and then get ready, sharing the bathroom with Armitage, brushing your teeth side by side. He likes this less lonely life already, though he isn’t sure how often you will stay over.

He leaves before you do, kisses your cheek, tells you to have a good day, a pip to his step, you put him in too good of a mood.

You walk up to your door where Kylo is waiting like he always is.

“Do I have the wrong room?” He asks sarcastically.

“Nope!” You say with a smile, your helmet in your hands and lightsaber on your hip.

“You’re radiating, I can feel you through force,” he says flatly.

“Awe thanks Kylo!” You tease as you start walking, he quickly follows you.

“It's annoying.”

“Not everyone can be brooding 24/7 like you are.”

“ I do not brood,” he argues, sounding ridiculous.

“The only person on this ship who has seen you not brooding and angry is me.”

“ I think you get more annoying every day,” he murmurs, putting his mask on.

“And I think you’re just jealous.” He whips his maks back off and drops it on the ground loudly, his facial expression would make you laugh if this was any other situation, he gawks at you.

“Jealous?” He says like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard but you can feel his emotions through the force so plainly they fill the entire training room. Kylo is almost controlled completely by his emotions, which usually isn’t a problem, anger works in his favour most times, but when he’s weak, he’s very weak.

“It’s coming off of you in waves, I can feel it.”

“And I could feel you through the force last night, you and him,” he says with disgust and you’re taken aback.

You’re confused and you don’t mean to look into his mind for an answer but you do it by habit, crossing a line by accident but it’s too late to take it back, you see him sitting in his room, sensing your overwhelming happiness and joy, the light surrounding you and he’s worried, worried that Hux will make you weak, worried that he’s losing his only friend in the universe.

“You aren’t losing me, I’m still your apprentice, your friend.”

“We are not friends!” he yells and you take a step back, the inner conflict, everything Snoke wired into his brain is messing with him. Telling him he shouldn’t want to be friends with you in the first place so why is he so upset at the notion of losing you as one.”

“Even if you won’t say it out loud I know we are.” You try to calm him.

“Get out of my head!” He yells and pushes you back with the force, you fall to the ground looking up at him. You want to match his anger but you are far more sensible than him, you know this can be repaired easily.

“Come sit with me,” you say quietly and he stays standing, ignoring you. “Please,” you gesture down to the mat in front of you.

He sits down begrudgingly and silently.

“Kylo, you need to allow yourself to process emotions other than just anger, I know you think it makes you stronger with the force but that isn’t true, it clouds your mind, it makes you act too rashly. I know the thought of losing me scares you, I’d be scared to lose you too, but that doesn't mean I don’t get my own life.”

“Your sounding very Jedi mastery right now,” he says, not allowing himself to smile but he isn’t as angry anymore at least.

“Ew, do not call me a Jedi,” you joke and he laughs a bit.

“I was a Jedi once,” he says and you hold back a laugh.

“You were only a padawan technically, I know Jedi’s are all about their technicalities and rules and such.”

He rolls his eyes, “you’re insufferable.”

“Mhm, so are you though.” You smile at him and it’s a weird moment, one not shared often. For people so ruled by their feelings, you think you would talk about them more, but you don't. “We should train, you got some anger issues you need to work through,” you tease standing up and he stands across from you, grabbing his lightsaber and looking at the hilt.

“Maybe if I hit you in the head with this hard enough you will come to your senses?” He asks, taking his stance and pulling his helmet on.

“Good luck getting close enough,” you counter, as you run at him with your sabre ignited.

-

Kylo did not like this new relationship, but he decided he would try to ignore it. What he couldn’t ignore was Hux standing in front of him asking him a question while a bunch of other officers waited on his reply.

He had his mask off and he was standing unnervingly close to the general, Armitage was tall on his own but Kylo towered over everyone. Thank his boots for that.

Hux looked up at him expectantly and an uneasy silence filled the room, Kylo wasn’t listening to the General speak, he was busy fantasizing about killing him, sticking his sabre through the Generals stupid heart, choking him with the force, it seemed so nice in his head.

He finally realized everyone in the room was staring at him so he dug into Hux’s mind for the question he had asked prior. All he found were Hux’s worried thoughts.

-Oh kriff he seems mad, he’s angry, he’s always angry, does he know what I did, oh kriff does he know what I did?- Hux’s thoughts ramble so fast Kylo almost can’t keep up, he speaks allowed.

“Do I know you did what?” Kylo asks angrily through gritted teeth, the officer standing nearby takes a step back, that was not an appropriate answer to Hux’s question about whether or not they should move against a nearby planet that was rumoured to be a rebel sympathizer.

Hux’s face pails instantly, he realizes Kylo is in his head and he tries to control his thoughts but they jumble in his mind as Kylo sifts through them, he stumbles upon the events of last night, bits of what took place between you and Hux, kissing, dinner, and then bare skin, baths, Hux hands on his apprentice.

“You did what to my apprentice!” Kylo yells and grabs Armitage by his neck using the force pushing him backwards and up against the wall.

Hux grasps for his neck, eyes wide, accepting that this is how he’ll die, completely worth it though if he’s being candid.

Kylo is seething, partly because he hates the idea of Hux being anywhere near you, touching you, angry he accidentally saw you in such a compromising situation but Hux didn’t mean it, he tried to suppress the thoughts it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t block Kylo’s prying mind out of his own.

“Please remove your hands from my boyfriend’s neck Ren,” you say quickly, using the force to loosen Kylo’s grip, Hux falls to his knees. You called him the less personable name you could, you even almost came close to pulling the “Solo” card.

Kylo looks at you and then quickly looks away blushing.

Hux grasps as his neck, trying to catch his breath.

“What is going on here?” You ask an officer and they shrug, fear-stricken still.

“I looked into the General’s filthy brain,” he pauses and then looks at your sorrily, “I didn’t mean to see, I…” he’s lost for words and you walk over to Armitage, offering him a hand, pulling him to his feet and then interlocking your fingers with his as you pull him out of the room.

“Perhaps you should stay out of other people’s business then hmm Kylo?” You ask and you aren't angry since you suspected this would happen eventually.

Kylo rushes into his office and slams the door shut. You bring Hux back to your room to take care of him and his bruised neck.

“He’ll get over it soon enough.” You say as you trace your fingers down the pale bruised skin of his neck, the bruises travel under his collar, forming darker splotches quickly.

“If I can survive that long!” He says and then winces at your touch.

“Does it help if I kiss it better.” You tease kissing his nose.

“Very much so.”

SW TAGLIST: @bluerorjhan​

EVERYTHING: @jordan-ia

Requested part three in the comments: @elentiya​  @huxismyman​

[writing-with-melon]

006, 012, 024, and 048 for the 100 random character development questions, for any character of your choice, if you want.

Hello and thank you for the ask! I will be answering these for Lavinia and Elio from Pennyroyal and Asturia. 048. Do they have any allergies? Lavinia is allergic to sunberries. Elio is allergic to his emotions.

006. What sense do they most rely on? Lavinia relies on her intuition, Elio relies on his eyes.

012. What makes your character embarrassed? Lavinia gets embarrassed when people praise her for small things or when she thinks she can do something but ends up failing. Elio hardly ever gets embarrassed, not having emotions can do that, but when he does its because he has let his persona slide and someone has noticed it. 

024. What do they consider ugly in others physically? This one is really hard! Lavinia doesn't like overly bushy eyebrows. Elio doesn’t like crooked teeth. 

[100 Random OC Development Questions]

[exyjunkies]

allison & renee as babysitters to andrew n neil that have to drive them both to the park for a play date and hang out there eating concession stand ice cream y/n?

yes but in my head andrew and neil do not need to be children for this to happen

-*-

“Why did they need to come with us again?” Neil asked, loosening his grip on the swing. The wind today was calm as it blew by in momentary breezes.

Behind him, Andrew pushed him gently ever so often, and looked on over to Allison at the ice cream stand, holding two ice cream cones very carefully. Between her lips was a twenty dollar bill.

A few feet away, Renee was seated on a park bench, reading a book. Or, at least, she had a book open in front of her. Instead, she was looking at Allison and trying not to make it obvious that she was.

“Because it’s been annoying seeing them,” Andrew slightly jutted his chin at the girls in question, “tiptoe around each other and not do something about it.”

Neil gasped theatrically. “So you’re setting them up? Andrew. Never thought you had this in you.”

“378%. Do not test me.”

“They’re cute. And what you’re doing? It’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

The park they had decided to go to today was Sunberry Park, about a half-mile drive away from Palmetto State. It had a playground, adequate space for concession stands, and park benches donated by both park sponsors and people who just wanted to dedicate park benches to their loved ones. Trees grew aplenty and the bushes in between had alternating pink and white flowers. This afternoon, save for a few mothers and their children, Andrew, Neil, Renee, and Allison were the only ones there.

But do you really need the both of us to go with you? Renee had whined, seated beside Andrew after a round of sparring. The wall they were leaning on felt nonexistent, like she was going to fall off this building from the pressure.

I need to make sure you don’t chicken out again.

It’s not like she likes me back anyway. I won’t go.

Andrew had smacked her on the head. You don’t know that yet. So yes, you will go.

Now, Allison made her way back to Renee, ice cream cones in tow. Renee quickly took one (she had asked for a double-scoop strawberry, yum) and moved aside a bit.

“Sorry for the wait. The kid in front of me was crying,” Allison said sheepishly, taking a lick of her own cone (strawberry and chocolate). Renee saw her perfectly manicured magenta nails around the cone. “Said he wanted some vanilla.”

“That’s alright. Thanks for agreeing to come along with us. Didn’t think you’d say yes.”

Allison looked back at her, mildly shocked. “You think I’d reject the prospect of ice cream? Incredulous.”

Smiling, Renee closed her book and leaned back on the bench, taking a gulp of the fresh spring air. The sun had gracefully chosen not to be so bright today, and was instead looking down on them in between thick white clouds.

Renee mentally quieted her nerves. If anything, she wanted to leave this park without ruining things between her and Allison. And in order for this to happen, she needed to… well, not freak out so much.

“What were you reading?” Allison asked, putting her free arm up on the bench. Renee tried not to think so much about how close her forearm was to her neck.

“The Art of Racing in the Rain. One of my favorites. It’s written from the perspective of a dog.”

“That sounds like a tearjerker. And a lot like what you’d like.”

“I cried the first time, and will probably… cry the second time, yes.”

“I can imagine. I miss my dog all the time.”

A buzzing in her pocket interrupted Renee’s prepared reply. She brought out her phone and examined the notification. It was a text from Andrew.

have you done it yet

Blushing a little, Renee put her phone back in her pocket and shot Andrew a stony look. Andrew shook his head in return. In front of him, Neil gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.

“The monsters look so happy, yeah?” Allison piped up, looking where she was looking. “Especially Minyard. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Why, because he’s always been against Aaron and Katelyn?”

“You read my mind.” Allison licked her lips, then took another bite of ice cream. Thoughtfully, she added, “Have you ever…?”

“Hmm?”

“I– heh. Never mind. I wouldn’t want to pry.”

Renee licked a strawberry piece off of her cone. She hoped it made her seem like she wasn’t nervous. “You started to, might as well follow-through.”

For a few moments, there was nothing from Allison but the clearing of her throat.

Then, “Have you ever been in love?”

“Wha–” Renee’s shock moved her forward. She almost pushed the remaining ice cream off her cone. “Oh. Shit. Uh–”

In seconds, Allison had moved closer and offered a tissue. Their thighs touched. Their hips connected. Renee’s body didn’t know any other responses to this but internal panic.

Decipher the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind, and it was actually a mix of oh my god and this girl and Allison Allison Allison and Andrew why–

Breathe, Walker.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Uh. Thanks. And, well, to answer your question, I–”

The expectant look on Allison’s face was too much, so for half a minute, Renee busied herself with cleaning up. She dabbed the tissue on her face, and promptly ignored the buzzing in her pocket.

She could make up some excuse about having seen a kid fall over. She could lie and say that her teeth were sensitive, and that she was just taken aback. There were so many ways to avoid the confrontation that may be a disaster she cannot live down.

One thing was for sure, though. She was so going to beat up Andrew.

After making sure that no ice cream was going to fall off her cone, Renee faced Allison. She could feel Andrew’s incessant texts through the repeated buzzing in her jeans.

Well. No time like the present.

Allison moved her free arm to bring out her phone, and was about to speak, but Renee grabbed her arm to get her attention.

“To answer your question, I… have. I still… am? But it’s not the kind of love that hurts, it’s more of… the love that keeps me grounded. And, uh. I really should’ve done this a long time ago, but I never got to, so… Allison, would you like to go out with me sometime–”

“Finally.” 

Behind them, Andrew looked more than ready to leave. Holding Neil’s hand, he said, “We’re leaving.”

“Bye, you two.” Neil was a cheery thing, and he waved goodbye with his free hand as Andrew dragged him away from the park.

Renee closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Even her ice cream cone probably felt awkward in her hand. She removed her hand from Allison’s arm.

So much for avoiding embarrassment.

“Renee, I–,” Allison started, then stopped. A couple of seconds later, she teased, “You just asked me out.”

Renee’s eyes flew open, and in front of her was Allison, cone in one hand, phone in the other, and a smirk on her face. 

It wasn’t like Renee to take back her words, even if it was only to save face, so she defensively replied, “Yeah? And what about it–”

“Andrew just texted me,” Allison said, opening her phone and showing it to Renee. “I was about to read it, but at least you got to it first.”

Renee only heard Allison’s anyway, yeah, I’d love to go out with you before she went on to read the texts on Allison’s phone. Laughter bubbled up in her system, and Allison snickered too.

if renee doesn’t get it out of her system, i will

would you want to go out with her

never mind. you are both completely useless

i’m never using my phone this much again

[cyrelia-j]

[Drabble] This Lesson Is... (Garak/Bashir/Parmak)

Thanks to @ladyvean for putting this idea in my head :P

From this original post HERE

Though not an official prompt, I kinda took i as such and so here we have:

OT3 "This slut is perfection"

Summary: Julian loves Parmak's accent and is especially enthused about Parmak deciding to learn English

It took Julian a while to notice. It may have even been months into his Cardassian linguistics studies, but once he noticed it, he couldn’t stop noticing it. The reason being was that it was in a word: adorable. He had first made the observation to Garak while they were sitting in the living room going over one of his more recent lessons. It was fascinating how his enhancements gave him a decided advantage in the field of medicine but didn’t quite gift those benefits to other areas: Languages being one of them. Well, perhaps he was able to retain vocabulary more easily but pronunciation and accents were a bit trickier than most things he’d tackled in his life. Garak still assured his “fragile augment ego” that his Kardasi like everything else was progressing at a marvelous rate.

“Does Kelas have an accent?”

Julian had asked the question in English, not quite sure if it was the sort of thing one would want others to notice. Garak had at first feigned ignorance, asking why Julian would think that. He even suggested that perhaps it was Julian mishearing or misunderstanding a word that he spoke. At first, Julian second guessed himself and let the subject drop. It wasn’t until he progressed a few more months along that he noticed that no, he was quite correct the first time. Parmak definitely had a distinct way of speaking that he’d never noticed before through the translator. They still relied on them for a great deal of communication but he was finding it less and less necessary than he had when he first arrived. He’d be quite happy getting rid of them all together, his Kardasi and Garak’s English narrowing in proficiency gap.

“Alright, I know I’m not imagining it now, he definitely has an accent.”

Julian made this assertion to Garak’s pained expression in response. Upon seeing that expression, Julian wasn’t sure that he really ought to press the matter. It didn’t take a genius to realize that certain cultures, certain languages, accents, faced all sorts of ridicule and censure across the galaxy. So he cleared his throat, sparing a glance down the hall before lowering his voice just a touch.

“If he’d rather I didn’t say anything about it I won’t I just-”

“He’s from Nokar,” Garak said with a shrug as if that should explain everything well enough. Unlike his usual penchant for conversation, he seemed little inclined to elaborate further, and when Parmak returned with a brilliant cold concoction of lemonade made with local sunberries that had a similar taste to tart raspberries, Julian decided he’d just have to look into it on his own.

Garak can be protective when it comes to Parmak though it’s hardly warranted. Parmak is far more resilient than Garak gives him credit for at times and it’s Parmak himself who volunteers the rather ignorant stigma of “Northerners” - that is those hailing from Nokar and Kraness - as being less civilized and cultured. Having lived with both Parmak and Garak since his settling on Cardassia Prime, Julian couldn’t think of a stupider sentiment but Parmak lets him know that he’s long grown used to it and as such tries to hide it as best as he can when he speaks. It’s then that Julian tells him he noticed it because he finds it charming. Parmak’s words have a melody to them. They flow together like a warm current and now that Julian can listen to him without the translator he can appreciate the faint “tsu” when he says “tud”, the extra run together of words, the “sya’s” and “kya’s” and sometimes - much to a bit of Garak’s jealousy - he’ll ask if Parmak won’t mind reading to him out of one of the older epic odes Garak’s always banging on about.

Garak complains that Julian doesn’t have a care for the art otherwise but he doesn’t quite know how to explain that listening to Parmak read at times allows him to close his eyes and remember once when he’d had a chance to hear a live reading from the Quran. The words had a similar music to them, but Parmak’s voice is softer, a little higher in pitch and Julian really does love his natural voice without the filter. He explained it to Garak as best as he could in Kardasi before having to switch back to English, finding with a bit of poorly concealed fondness under Garak’s token indignation admitting that he too was quite enchanted with Parmak’s voice. “Of course that’s not to say that I don’t adore your cultured cadence speaking filthy things to me all enunciated and sexy,” Julian had assured him. There are also times when in a certain mood a particular whisper or speak of Julian’s name with that accent will makes his toes curl and his breath pick up. Parmak says his name with an extra affected syllable- a soft “Jiu-lian” that makes him dying to hear other things he might say in English.

Parmak is bemused but he decides it would be a fun adventure to learn English as well.

As far as Julian knows Parmak doesn’t have any special genetic gifts or enhancements. As a matter of fact, he told Julian a short time after their initial acquaintance that his white hair and stoop weren’t the result of age - though it turned out at a hundred and ten he was older than Julian had imagined - but rather congenital as were the slight pink of his eyes and faint violet tint to his skin, and his poor eyesight. Another uneducated Northerner slander was the accusation of inbreeding and those traits have never done him any favors in that assumption either. Parmak was sure if he hadn’t been fostered by an old respected Southern doctor he may very well have never been able to become a doctor himself. But his mind, Julian found was as sharp and quick a study as anyone he’d encountered in his field, Parmak sometimes making jumps in his thought train that astounded even Julian. He isn’t sure how well that will translate to languages but Julian observes over the course of the next few weeks that it goes quite well.

“This is a table. That is a window.” It doesn’t take him too long to pronounce simple sentences, though his accent is far stronger than Garak’s. Julian can tell the Nokaran influence is much more difficult to account for in the foreign tongue where Parmak isn’t sure what corrections need to be made. It sounds more like he says “Zis-es a tabel. Zat-es a windsoe.” Julian is sure that it’s some poor reflection of his character that he finds Parmak’s accent darling, watching him study carefully bent over a PADD each night, pushing his slipping spectacles up his face. Garak has taken to helping him practice as well, though Julian notices that their practices often divulge into heated hissing contests and inevitably a delay in dinner which Julian hardly objects to being treated to - an occasionally invited to join in - a rather heated show and Garak sandwich.

“This rug is red. This flower is yellow.”

“This soup is warm. That glass is cool.”

Julian often comes into the living room to find Parmak looking for things to describe during his lessons and always delights in thinking of new ways to describe him and Garak.

“This boy is sweet,” he says to Julian making him grin dumbly.

“This man is handsome,” he says to Garak who smiles in turn and compliments his good taste. Julian asks why he’s a boy and Garak is a man when Parmak gives him one of those sweet but naughty little Parmak smiles and pushes his glasses back up on his face. Garak raises his PADD a little higher to hide the smirk.

“You’re incorrigible, both of you,” Julian declares, sitting next to Parmak on the sofa with a huff.

“Then don’t encourage me!” Parmak exclaims quite pleased with the rejoinder Garak has taught him. Julian resists the queen mother of all eye rolls as Garak makes some suspicious snerk from behind the PADD once more.

“Ha,” Julian says rubbing his forehead against Parmak’s shoulder. “So has Garak taught you any other useful phrases?” Julian asks in English, not sure if that’s too complex for Parmak to understand.

He thinks a moment before sighing and answering in Kardasi.

“No, but I have been picking up a few things on my own from some of our human colleagues.” Julian isn’t sure whether or not to be intrigued or concerned as Parmak clears his throat and sits up a bit indicating Garak proudly.

“This slut,” he declares beaming at Garak like the sun itself, “is perfection.”

Julian and Garak meet eyes in that moment and war silently over who gets the unenviable tasks of correcting him.

In the end they decide to just leave it alone; Julian officially being “sweet boy” and Garak being “perfect slut”.

[athyrabunlord]

hello I've only started stalking your blog a few months ago and tumblr is still new to me so I don't know how to search, so maybe you've already answered this already. what's your favorite μ's character and pairing and why do you prefer writing and drawing them? And if it's not too much how about Aqours? thank you C: you have a fabulous blog and I love checking everyday

hello Anon, and thanks! I should really customize my blog page one of these days when I can sit my bums down and devote to it (read: ask others for help because athyra isn’t savvy in such things lololol) You’re right, I probably already answered in older, separate posts but I’ll restate it here again so everything is together:

favorite μ’s character and pairing 

If I can only pick one, Honoka is my fav, my sun, my precious sunberry. (but I fangirl about mah waifu Kotori and no one can stop me when I’m in that mood)

EliUmi. EliUmi. EliUmi. well UmiEli too but you get the gist. I have to say it three times because that’s just how much of an OTP storm is for me. Compared to Aqours, I’m less flexible in my shipping preference - I still enjoy various ships in terms of fanarts but fanfics I only stick to my favs. My μ’sfanworks will almost always have EliUmi, NozoNico, KotoHono as the set ships, with occasional TsubaHono, KotoPana. I can never decide between MakiRin and MakiPana so let’s leave it at that. And there’s UmiMaki too :’D

Fav char to draw and write are completely different actually XD! Fav char to draw is Maki, for her floofy mane and slanted eyes but mostly the floof. Fav char to write is Nontan and yzw because GDI yanshit comes easily to me, I never have to outline anything for them. They always write themselves. Unfortunately for Honoka and Kotori I’m not very good at drawing them RIP also can’t write Eli well RIP my OTP

However, lily white forever fav subunit. *will aggressively defend*

favorite Aqours character and pairing

If I can only pick one, it’s the hardness10 penguin queen Dia. But those who follow my blog knows I go on fangirling sprees about the dumb muscle orca wonder that is Kanan.

KanaMari. KanaDia. KanaMari. KanaDia. GDI I can’t choose let’s just KanaDiaMari OT3 happily ever after asdafdfagdfasa. I have many, many Aqours ships I enjoy for now, and I’m certain it will be a long time before I can find my ‘set list’ like I did for μ’s.

I surprise myself because I assumed the 6 and the braids would be hard, but I enjoy and love drawing Mari the most. She’s also my fav char to write, Yoshiko too. And Riko. wow Guilty Kiss. I can neither write or draw CYaRon (esp Ruby, my precious child). I also can’t write from Dia’s POV student council presidents GDI

Fav subunit is \CYR/ yet I’ve drawn many AZA and GK fanarts and… very very little CYR wtf

Thanks for asking!

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hello! I don’t think this has been answered before but apologies if it has:

Do the Elves of Blest have any traditional tattoos? (I’m thinking of the Vallaslin facial tattoos of Dalish elves in Dragon Age)

Thanks!

Hi there, here is a fairly in-depth answer I gave over on Patreon regarding tattoos--to answer your question in the shortest form, no, tattoos don't really have any cultural significance to Elves in Blest! :) Longer answer below!

Question: how advanced is tattooing in Blest vis-a-vis tools/inks/etc - are their implements similar to the ones in our world (can their detail work get Very Detailed?), and are there any racial/cultural differences between the methods of tattooing or the kinds of inks?

Hi there, thanks for your question! Tattooing is slightly different between cultures, but their techniques are pretty much the same in terms of advance-ness! (They're not that advanced.)

Ket: all fighting Ket (Khehi Ket) receive a tattoo over their hearts that announces their allegiance and their home city-state (this tattoo is crossed out if they're deemed a criminal/traitor and caught for their crimes: their bodies aren't cremated in the traditional fashion and are left to rot shirtless so all can see the evidence of their betrayal in their mutilated tattoo. I don't know why I told you this because you didn't ask). Ket tattoos are almost exclusively hand-tapped, and it's a painstaking and painful process that doesn't allow for any breaks. The tattoo process is seen as a rite of passage; for many Ket societies, if the Ket in question cries, makes noises of pain, flinches, or asks to stop, they are deemed unworthy of the responsibilities of a Ket soldier, and they may be sent back to their training in shame. The tattoo is a mark of pride and warriorhood for adult Ket. Depending on the city-state, some may also receive marks of their rank and status within their society, and the changes to these as they are elevated in their careers or fortunes are written out on their bodies like living histories. However, because this could relay important information should an enemy ever check their bodies, the additional details are becoming rarer and rarer, while the mark of the city-state remains the same.

The Ket ink-masters only use needles crafted from metal associated with that city-state: Ygrath's was obsidian, so they would use an obsidian needle; Chicora's was copper, so a copper needle would have been used. The dye used for these tattoos is always black and is typically formed by mixing the ash of a tree associated with the Ket, a special lacquer that is sometimes applied to Ket weapons, and, occasionally, the ash from the funeral pyres of fallen comrades.

(As the rest of the world says, the Ket can be a morbid people.)

Elves: Elves do not use needles to create tattoos, but instead an even older method that involves cutting a design (usually of one's clan symbol or something in nature such as a flower) into the skin and then rubbing ink/dye/pigment into the wound. They typically use plant dyes and pigmentations, such as from the indigo plant or certain flowers; the fading this results in (along with the cutting technique) can cause "tattoos" to look like very pretty-looking, pale scars. The most prized pigmentation in the Elvish tattooing process is white, as this fits with some Elf legends and mythology (the first royal family of the Elves was said to all be born with white, star-shaped birthmarks on their palms or brows).

However, tattooing is not terribly common among the Elvish people: permanently marking your body with something might get old when you have to live with it for literally forever, so there's no real cultural significance assigned to the decision to get a tattoo other than aesthetic. People will know you really care about that thing if you get a tattoo, is what I'm saying, but it doesn't mean anything as a culture!

Mages: Tattoos are fairly rare among Mages, but they have the easiest process in that they paint the desired design onto the person's skin, then use their magic to sink the pigmentation into the dermis permanently, creating a tattoo.  It's a painless process, though it becomes longer and more expensive if you're adding on features like making sure the tattoo never fades/warps or that the color doesn't change. Because the practice is fairly rare, there isn't really a cultural significance to things like colors or designs among Mages, and it's just seen as a personal choice.

Hunters: Hunters use the same process as the Elves, though they exclusively only use red ink for their tattoos. Some societies tattoo the matha (the mark of an initiated Hunter) rather than simply creating a scar out of it. The red ink is created from sunberries in the mountains as well as trace powdered metals mixed with hakka oil and blubber.

Norms: Norm tattoos are more common among the regular folk, but there are some connotations of it being low-brow due to a historical tendency to tattoo convicts with evidence of their crimes in the past. Therefore, many bandits and criminals would be seen with tattoos, leading to the association that having a tattoo = you're a scoundrel. (This is somewhat similar for piercings, which is why it's not as common among the higher class.) Despite this association, modern day Norm society has the widest access to different pigments and dyes in terms of tattoos and is able to mass-produce them. Tattoos are seen as a purely aesthetic choice; their existence doesn't have any particular connotations except, occasionally, with rebellion and crime. However, it's becoming more popular among the youth: there is a famous traveling company of actors and players whose faces are all tattooed with the guises of the characters they play.