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pedge-page · 3 months

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i love your preggo wife drabbles soo much!!! could you write one where joel takes care of reader with her morning sickness? 🫶🏻

Joel dealing with Preggo Reader: Morning Sickness

Notes: Idk why I keep making reader so mean but he's such a trooper! I'm also no pregnancy expert obviously so plz take my minimal effort in research with a grain of salt.

Warnings: mean reader, language, vomitting, morning sickness

- - - -

"I hate your penis."

Joel rolls his eyes. It's only the 11th time you've said it today while being hunched over the toilet, with Joel caringly hovering over you, holding your hair out of the way as you take a deep breath and hurl the breakfast he made you this morning.

"I hate—"

"I know, sweet pea. Just breathe."

You nod in an almost drunken state. He knows its because you've got no energy in you to really fight him, with the baby giving you all the first batch of hell in the life long journey of headaches in child bearing.

He rubs over your spin, caressing the shivers raking over your body so you can focus on not dying right now.

"I hate your toes. I hate your shampoo. I hate your fingernails. I hate your toast. I hate—"

"Ah huh..."

At first he was pretty upset and angered by how much you loath him, but at some point he's tuned it out and just holds and shushes you. While you pout your disdain for the man, you don't oppose his touch.

For now.

"Doin' so good, baby. It's only temporary, baby's just making sure you're a tough momma—"

"Shut the fuck up and get me some water."

Joel stands, his knees reminding him of his less than youthful age, before running downstairs and grabbing a bottle.

You were both a little surprised that all the morning sickness you were warned about hadn't really given either of you trouble in your first trimester. It came with a surprise by the middle of your second, and comes and goes on a daily basis. Today is honestly not so bad: it's your attitude shift that really gives him whiplash.

By the time he gets back up, you're already meandering out of the bathroom like a lost soul with puffy, sleep deprived eyes, and over to the bed, slowly crawling over the mattress, muttering "too tall". You feel his hand supportively on your back, but you snap "fuck off" and get in the bed yourself. He goes to tuck you in with the sheet, but again your hand slaps his away and you close your eyes into darkness.

You can still feel his annoying presence. "What!" You yell, eyes shooting open to see the bottle dangling from his hand. You snatch it without a thank you and gulp.

Joel's just got his hands on his hips, staring at you.

"Kern I hEp ouu, Hondah?" You gurgle through your water sloshing in your mouth.

He just chuckles to himself. "You're cute like this."

You swallow. "I'll fuck you the fuck up."

He laughs even harder, seemingly unserious in your threats. To him, you looked even smaller than before, despite the obvious roundness growing in your tum tum. You seemed like some small puppy finding her growl, or toddler pointing her finger trying to be intimidating but unaware of how badly you're failing.

"So amusing? Why dont you make yourself useful and rub my feet," you demand.

"You need to eat food, baby girl."

"BaBy GiRl" you mock with puppet hand mouth. "NAG nag NAG. I Don't WANT food. I want my FOOT. In your HAND. before I put it up your ASS."

Joel can tolerate the baby cock-blocking him for a few weeks and the endless assult of your words, but he puts his foot down when your basic needs arent being met. "I need you to eat food. You need energy. Baby needs energy."

"Fine! Crackers, you crackhead. Then—" and you thrust your leg in the hair and wiggle your foot in his face so he gets the picture.

"Okay okay!" And he walks out the bedroom.

Joel spends a record 4 minutes downstairs hurriedly putting together a fancy array of cracker options, from Saltines, to Townhouse, to Ritz. He also pops a few cubes of diced ham in his mouth and then holds a few in his hand to snack on later since he too had to abandon breakfast to service you.

By the time you're conplaining "it's been hours!" He's trotting up the stairs, you wiggle your bum so you sit upright in bed, hand over gurgling belly as he brings the tray to you.

Just as youre about to feast on these dry ass cardboard squares, your nose twitches. You see Joel chewing something in his grasp, popping one cube of pale meat quickly into his mouth, and it takes all of 2 seconds for the smell to travel to your brain before you're throwing the tray on the ground, crackers spilling all over the carpet and b lining to the bathroom again to throw up.

As he hears your dramatic gasps and hurls, Joel pulls out his little note pad he's been documenting your pregnancy so far. He writes "no ham" in the lines , right under "hates my penis", before tossing the paper on the bed and stroking your hair lovingly again as you empty your entire organs in the toilet.

By the time you finish, you've got snot and tears running down your face. "but I LOVED HAAAMMMMM" You screech.

It's true. You used to wrap a thick spread of cold butter on a slice of cheap deli ham and eatnit like a cannoli— something he thought was a weird aquired taste BEFORE he even got you pregnant.

Joel grabs a tissue and plants it firmly in your face, and you squeeze your eyes tight and blow right into his palm like a little snot nosed trumpet. He rubs his fingers in your nostrils to get all the boogers out before tossing it and helping you up to your feet again.

All the while you're bawling "l-l-loved—my hh-ham—n cheese" with gross babbling as he tucks you back in the duvet. You were fine with giving up other aversions like tomatoes, pizza crust, and yogurt. Even sex (occasionally). But your beloved ham is one baby step too far.

"Your—"sniffle— "big—"hiccup—"ugly—"choke—"WORM —" cough—"DID THIS TO MEEE," you accuse his crotch and wail into the air.

Then you hiccup very loudly and go quiet entirely.

You look around with curious eyes, fresh tears suddenly unbothering you at the moment.

"Mmmmmmmn crackers," you moan. "Gimme that one," and you point to the mess on the floor.

"What one?"

"That one!"

He bends down and picks up a piece.

But you shake your head. "No that one."

"No." "No the other." "No."

"Which one!" He shouts, unable to contain the lace of frustration.

"The one I'm pointing to, stupid!"

He finally picks up one hes pointed to 3 times already and you clap your hands.

You snatch it out of his grasp, pull a hair off its curved cracked edge before munching on it happily.

He looks at with uncertainty on his face.

You swallow the dry mushed bits and hum contently. "Mmm. Salty."

Not even 12 hours later you two are getting ready for bed, and you mood has completely changed. Still sick, but instead of being unable to stand Joel's entire existence, you praise it.

"Joel, honey? Can you please prop my feet up Under this pillow. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to reach it myself."

"Baby? I'm a little thirsty. Can you get me some water?"

"Im so sorry, Joel. I just can't stomach this food, I know you put so much effort into it. Ugh! I loved this, I really did! I don't know what's wrong with me."

You rub over the discomfort in your slightly swollen tummy and try to be a brave girl and fight the tears, as Joel's been so attentive to your needs, aches, cries and cravings, only to hurl them back up.

You sniffle and look up to him.

He's a bit tense, almost in a fight or flight stance with fear behind his eyes.

"W-whats wrong, Joel?" you ask with a honey song voice.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

- - - -

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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 days

Text

Cash Slave, reporting in...

Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!

I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!

Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!

I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!

See you tonight, master!

Hello sir.

It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.

You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.

That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.

Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.

Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.

Thank you again, sir.

Hello boss.

Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.

I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.

It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!

The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!

Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!

Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!

Tell my wife hello for me, master!

Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.

The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!

You deserve it all.

I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.

Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!

I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!

Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?

I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.

My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!

As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!

As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.

I'll be awaiting your return, sir.

Hey little bro,

I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.

He's such an idiot.

Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.

I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.

Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!

#mind control #gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

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lovelybucky1 · 11 months

Text

Join Me (Darth Vader x Reader)

warnings: dark themes, gender neutral! reader, unburnt vader (still wears the suit), violence, weapons, mentions of death, corruption, manipulation, sexual tension, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

This is humiliating. A Jedi, a warrior of your status, should not be sprawled across the floor in front of your sworn enemy. The two stormtroopers that brought you to Darth Vader’s chamber stand above you, looking down at where you landed when they threw you. You’re not sure how Vader’s forces managed to capture you so quickly. You have a feeling your fate will be similar to those of the remaining Jedi that have attempted to face Lord Vader: a cruel and brutal death.

Nevertheless, you lay on your stomach, hands cuffed with force-blocking bonds behind your back, and your legs rest uselessly behind you. You strain your neck to keep your head up, not wanting to give your captors to see you in such a state of defeat.

The Dark Lord looms over you from this high-backed throne. The room is dark with a fully black interior, but somehow his suit stands out from the void that seemingly engulfs you.

“Leave us,” Vader commands the storm troopers, his modulated voice bone chilling in the otherwise silent room. The stormtroopers turn and walk out of the chamber, their boots clicking loudly on the smooth tile floor.

As soon as you heard the heavy doors shut, the reality of your situation set in. You’re alone without a weapon or the use of the force with the most brutal Sith lord in the galaxy. You were helpless, and the only thing you can do is pray Vader will be merciful and kill you quickly.

“Your thoughts are loud, Jedi,” he says, sitting motionless on his throne.

You stare back into the black voids of his helmet’s eyes. You know the mask must be to hide some hideous deformity, but even the slightest bit of expression in the dark lord’s face would bring you some comfort.

You refuse to speak to him, but it clearly doesn’t matter since he can hear your thoughts, despite you trying to keep your walls up.

“I can feel your fear.”

Your brows furrow as you continue to look up at him from your position on the ground. You don’t mean to make your fear so obvious, but you can’t help it. You’re at the mercy of a monster who has killed many of your fellow Jedi, wiped out planets, and has disrupted peace in the entire galaxy.

“But it is not just fear, is it, Jedi?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting your choice of words.

“Hatred,” he says plainly.

This time you stay silent. You don’t feel hatred. Are you angry with Darth Vader for ruining the lives of you and your friends? Yes. Are you angry at the empire for oppressing beings across the galaxy? Of course. Do you resent this war and wish you could live a regular life? Sure, everyone does. Do you wish the Jedi order wasn’t so restrictive? Occasionally. But none of what you feel is hate.

“You’re wrong,” you hiss.

“You don’t hate me?” Vader has the audacity to ask.

“Hate is not the Jedi way,” you respond.

Silently, Vader rises from his throne and descends the stairs. His black boots echo throughout the chamber as Vader approaches you. The feeling of dread grows even colder in your stomach, and you begin to shake as he nears.

Vader stops an arm’s length in front of you, and from your position, all you can see is the top of his heavy boots and the thick material of his pants. Outside of your vision, Vader reaches for you. He bends to bury his gloved hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you up from the ground. You yelp at the grip on your hair, and you scramble to get your knees underneath you to take some of the tension off of your scalp.

Now you kneel before Darth Vader, and he has just proved that it requires little effort to move you. You look up at him with newfound anger that stems from the humiliation of being manhandled. Your eyes are glassy with tears, not from emotion, but as an involuntary response from the pulling of your hair.

“Cowardice is not the Jedi way, either,” Vader says.

His hand is still tight in your hair, though there is much less pain. You shake your head, trying to get him to let go, but his hold is unwavering.

“I’m not a coward,” you hiss. You wish you could access the force; you would throw this sick bastard across the room and- no, that’s not the Jedi way.

“Yet you tremble before me.”

You narrow your eyes as you look at him, feeling intimidated by the lack of emotion but you keep your gaze steady.

“I don’t hate, Vader.”

The dark helmet tilts to the side, just barely. That is the only sign of emotion, of life, that he has given this whole time.

“No?” he asks. “Even after everyone you hold dear perished at the hands of my army? Can your heart remain pure after suffering so much loss? Pain leads to anger, and anger leads to hate. I feel more pain in you than any of your fellow soldiers combined.”

You wish desperately that you were able to grasp the force to block Vader from your mind, but without it, every aspect of your mind is exposed to him.

“There’s no part of you that wants revenge? To kill me after you heard the symphony of your fellow younglings screaming? To destroy the empire for all of the pain it’s brought you?”

Fresh tears now stream down your face, this time from the painful memories Vader is forcing you to relive. You want to break free from these cuffs, you want to fight back, but you’re trapped. You do the only thing you can think to do to show your defiance, even as you weep on your knees. You tilt your chin up as much as you can and spit, landing it on the cheek of Vader’s helmet.

It feels as if time froze as soon as the wad of spit made contact. Vader stood completely still, not even breathing for unnaturally long, as you were forced to stay just as still as he was.

Slowly, Vader reaches up with his free hand and grasps the underside of his helmet. Your spit has run down the front of the mask and his gloves glisten as he pushes up the helmet. Vader slowly reveals the face underneath, and to your surprise, he is not hideous. In fact, he’s handsome.

Behind the emotionless helmet, Vader is a young man with chestnut hair, smooth skin save for a scar over his eye, and piercing bronze eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at the Sith lord, suddenly feeling conflicting emotions as the face of evil was just humanized.

Vader drops his helmet on the tile floor next to you, and the loud bang echoes through the chamber, making you flinch.

“You’re surprised,” Vader says, now in a non-altered voice. His voice is smooth, completely unlike his deep, robotic voice you knew.

“This is not what I was expecting,” you say, voice sounding weak to your own ears.

“My appearance?” he asks.

“Your mercy.”

Vader raises his eyebrows. “You will not get mercy from me.”

“You haven’t killed me yet,” you respond.

You’re not sure why you’re speaking to him this way. He is the same man who killed millions, some of those your brothers in arms, and many more innocent lives. He is the same ruthless, evil monster as he was with the mask on, yet he seems much less intimidating like this.

“I have no use for a Jedi corpse. I want you alive.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him, tears slowly stopping.

“Alive for what?”

“You have great power, little one,” he says, gaze intense.

Vader releases his grip on your hair, but remains close. The features of his suit feel out of place without the helmet. The control panel lead you to believe he was more machine than man, but from what you can see, Vader is just as human as you are.

“I was like you once,” Vader says, speaking again after your lack of response.

“We are nothing alike,” you bite.

“Ambitious, emotional, powerful… All things the Jedi order attempts to train out of their young, but a certain few, like you and I, knew better. You didn’t let them crush your spirit and turn you into a docile, supposed peacekeeper like the rest of them.”

Vader started off calm, but as he continued denouncing the Jedi teachings, his tone became more bitter and resentful.

“I have no complaints about my teachings,” you say, lifting your chin in defiance.

“You never had thoughts that your master told you were inappropriate? Things that felt perfectly natural, but somehow were wrong?” This time, Vader’s question is not rhetorical.

“I mean… I guess.”

“And weren’t you just a little bit angry that your feelings were dismissed so quickly without even an ounce of explanation as to why?”

“Because emotions and attachments aren’t the Jedi way.”

“But you were a child. No child can put aside their emotions for some ‘greater good’ that they have never seen nor could begin to understand.”

Vader pauses his sermon to crouch down, now meeting you at your eye level. His gaze is heavy, and you don’t want to show weakness by looking away, but you find it difficult to hold his eyes.

“I lived a life of pain, just as you have. I was born a slave, and only freed to be taken in by the Jedi, where my bonds were even tighter. I led thousands of men to their death in an unwinnable war, my mother was murdered by savage creatures, and my only love died as a result of the Jedi’s foolish restrictions.”

You swallow the thick lump in your throat so you can attempt to speak. Vader being vulnerable with you like this makes you feel uncomfortable, like you need to jump up and run as far as possible. He is a monster, not a grieving man. He’s not like you.

“You’re tired of hurting, aren’t you?” he asks.

You don’t want to respond, you don’t want to give him what he desires, but you can’t help yourself. The pain is suffocating and you desperately wish to escape it.

“Yes,” you confess breathily.

Vader looks at you for a moment. He doesn’t smile thankfully, because you would find that even more unnerving. No, he looks at you with pity like you’re a hurt animal.

“I can make your pain go away.” You perk up at that. You know he must be lying, the Sith are known for their silver tongues that tell you exactly what you want to hear, but the idea of a life free from suffering intrigues you. “I can help you access great power that will rid you of anguish.”

Vader shifts so he is kneeling in front of you, mirroring your position save for the cuffs holding your hands. He places his gloved hands on your shoulders and holds them tightly. You lean into the strong, warm touch, feeling conflicted as you regard his offer.

“I was like you once, little one. Broken, scared, forced into weakness by the Jedi. But then I was shown a new path; one of great power and purpose. Now I hurt no more.”

This all feels too good to be true. You want to believe what Vader says is true, that he can take away your pain and make you as powerful as you have always wanted to be, but your master’s voice rings in the back of your mind. Don’t give into temptation. The Sith lie, manipulate, and go to great lengths to corrupt the light. Evil is stronger than good, but great power leads you down a path of destruction.

“I will not hear these lies any longer, Vader,” you say, finally regaining your compassion.

Vader blinks for a moment, seemingly surprised at your change of tone.

“I tell nothing but the truth. I can save you.”

“I am loyal to the Jedi order.”

Vader sighs, jaw tensing, and he rises to his feet, again looming over you.

“I was being merciful as you requested, and gave you some semblance of a choice, but you will join me.”

“I would rather die than join you!” you yell.

Vader’s chin tilts just slightly. He uses the force to bring the remote that controls your cuffs to him, then unlocks them. You look up at him, confused and hesitant when your bonds fall away.

“You would die for your precious order?” he asks.

“Without question,” you say firmly as you rise to your feet, kicking the cuffs aside.

Vader reaches down to his hip and pushes his cape back, revealing two lightsabers. One is yours, and the other must be his. He tosses your lightsaber to you and you catch it with ease, immediately activating the blade and holding it between you and the Sith lord.

He activates his own lightsaber, the red blade illuminating his face and mixing with the blue of yours, casting a mix of purple light through the dark room.

“What are you waiting for, Jedi?” he asks.

Without further hesitations, you run towards Vader and swing your lightsaber at his torso, but he blocks it with ease. You take a few more swings, each from different angles, but they all are deflected. Surprisingly, Vader does not take any offensive maneuvers and only blocks each of your attacks. You move forward and slowly back Vader against the wall, almost cornering him, and you find yourself growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of engagement in the battle.

“Fight back, you coward!” you yell as you being your saber slashing down.

“Is that truly what you want?” Vader asks, pushing against your lightsaber with his.

“Unlike you,” you grunt, “I don’t take pleasure in an opponent who does not attempt to fight.”

There is a ghost of a smirk on Vader’s lips as he pushes you off of him with his saber. You stumble back, but quickly regain your footing and advance on him again. This time, however, Vader attacks. A whirlwind of red light swings around your head, and you instinctively block his attempted jab.

Vader’s fighting style is fast, acrobatic, and unlike anything you’ve faced in training or battle. His slices come quick, and combined with the distractions of his jumps and spins, it makes it difficult to battle him.

You swing your saber at his neck, but he ducks his head just in time to dodge getting his head cut off. While Vader is low to the ground, he sweeps his saber at your ankles, but you managed to jump, kicking him in the shoulder in the process.

He stumbles back and fails to catch himself. He sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of him as you run towards him. He is surprisingly skilled at fight from the ground, but he doesn’t expect a kick to the hand instead of a stab with your saber. His lightsaber falls from his hand and clatters across the floor. Before he could get to it, you pick it up.

Now with two sabers and a defenseless Vader, you have the upper hand. He moves to stand, but you trap his head between crossed blades while he’s on his knees. You pause, staring down at the Sith lord as your chest heaves with exertion. Vader does not look afraid, nor angry. He looks pleased.

“You want to kill me,” Vader speaks, showing no signs of the battle that just occurred.

“I sure would like to,” you say between panting breaths.

“Then do it.” You’re shocked. You have the most feared man in the galaxy on his knees in a compromising position, and he’s telling you to kill him. “Kill me, Jedi. I feel your anger, your pain, your hatred. Succumb to your desires; kill me and free the galaxy.”

Your hand twitch. You want to kill Vader, but you cannot bring yourself to do it. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed by the morality that was ingrained into you as a child.

“Kill me!” Vader shouts.

You don’t notice that you’re crying until hot tears drip down amd absorb into the front of your robe. You hate that you’re showing such weakness in front of Vader, but you can’t help yourself.

“You’re weak,” Vader says as he rises to his feet, unfazed by the weapons at his neck. “You’re a coward. A pathetic excuse for a soldier.”

Vader wrenches both sabers out of your hands and throws yours across the room. He stalks towards you, lightsaber at his side while he insults you. You walk backwards as he comes closer, not wanting to let him near to kill you.

“You didn’t even have the strength to do what you knew needed to be done. You could have saved the galaxy, but you were too scared to take a life,” Vader seeths.

You take another step back, but instead of your foot landing on the tile, you trip on Vader’s discarded helmet, rolling your ankle and falling to the floor. You cry out in pain and attempt to get up, but you cannot find the strength as Vader steps closer.

His boot kicks his helmet out of the way with a loud bang what makes you whimper in fear. Your palms scrabble against the floor to slide back, making you look even more pathetic than you surely already do. To your horror, directly behind you is the chamber wall. You have no where to go, no weapon, barely any strength, and Vader has the high ground.

“Look at you, helpless little Jedi,” Vader muses. “Why don’t you call on the force to help you? Or is it not strong enough to beat me?”

Your blood feels ice cold in your veins as Vader stares down at you. You know you should attempt to fight, to die honorary, but you don’t want to suffer.

“Just kill me,” you choke out.

“I told you, I have no use for your corpse. You will join me.”

“I won’t,” you say, voice weak.

With an aggravated grunt, Vader throws his lightsaber across the room, then grips the collar of your robe with both hands to haul you to your feet. He presses your back against the wall and you flinch, preparing for him to hit you. Instead, he places both palms on either side of your head. For a moment, nothing happens. You are just about to aks him what he’s doing to you when you’re hit with a flood of euphoria.

A hot, almost burning sensation fills your body and warms the ice in your veins. Your limbs go limp and you would have collapsed to the floor if Vader wasn’t holding you. A small moan leaves your lips as you feel a sense of newfound strength in your body, something that you have never felt in all of your years training with the force.

“What-” you trail off, finding it difficult to construct a sentence in this state.

“Do you feel the power, little one?” Vader says, voice low since he is so close.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“All of this could be yours. You could feel this all the time. You will never hurt again.”

You want it. This pleasure, this fullness, this contentment you haven’t felt since you were young. In this moment, all reason escapes you as you bask in the warms that Vader is providing.

Then, in a flash, everything is cold once again. Vader lets go of you and you side down the wall in a crumple. You whimper as you try to move, but you’re weak and tired once again.

“Please,” you croak, looking up at Vader.

“That’s the power of the dark side. Too bad you’re too devoted to your code to reach your full potential,” Vader says before turning on his toe, cape swishing through the air as he walks away from you.

You can’t let him leave. You had a taste of what you’ve always wanted and you can’t deny it any longer. You want to be powerful, free, and maybe for the first time in a long time, happy.

“Wait!” Vader pauses mid-step but does not turn to face you. “I… I want it.”

Anxiety builds inside you as Vader remains motionless. Just as you’re about to plead with him, he turns around.

“What do you want?”

“Power,” you whisper like it’s a shameful secret.

Vader begins to walk towards you, the same stalking action, yet you feel less scared this time.

“Will you abandon your affilation with the Jedi?” he asks.

You hesitate to answer. You know it’s wrong, you took a vow, but you had spent your life doing selfless acts. Maybe it’s time to be selfish for once.

“Yes.”

Vader grins. It’s not a kind smile, far from it. It’s sharp, predatory, and makes your skin crawl.

“You shall be my apprentice,” Vader says, extending a hand to help you from the ground. When you reach your feet, Vader holds you close by your waist. It’s almost intimate, the distance between your faces, but you feel as if it’s more of a display of dominance than anything. “I will train you to use the dark side, and I’ll help you break all of those habits the Jedi ingrained in you.”

“I want to feel it again,” you confess.

“And you will, little one, in due time. I can only give you so much; it is your duty to harness it yourself.”

You sigh and nod your head. “I understand… master.”

It feels foreign in your mouth, to call someone else, a Sith lord, master, but the word makes Vader grin again.

“The dark side will give you great strength. It may be frightening at first, to unlock your full potential, but I guarantee you will become just as powerful as I. Together, we will rule the galaxy.”

Your heart skips at that. Thinking that the entire galaxy would be yours to do what you please with, the power that would come with that. It was every shameful dream come true.

“I vow to follow you, Master Vader. I want to learn to be as powerful as you.”

Vader’s grip on your waist tightens and he tugs you just a bit closer. Your chest is pressed against the hard, cold metal of the panel on his chest, and you feel so small in his embrace.

“Why don’t we start with our first lesson,” Vader suggests.

“What is it?” you ask curiously, eager to get even a taste of that heat once again.

“I want you to learn to indulge in all of those desires you have spent your life denying,” he says, voice low and gravely. You furrow your brows, confused. “I sense your lust, little one. I do not think it shameful; Sith must access their passion.”

You nod in understanding, but remain still, uncertain what to do.

“Allow me to show you,” Vader says.

His hands press your body against his and he leans his head down. His eyes are closed and his lips move to cover yours. You whimper in surprise, but you allow yourself to stay pliant. He kisses you, gently at first, but it quickly turns heated. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you part them to allow him access. He devours you, kissing you like he’s claiming you as his own and in a way, he is.

You two finally part after what feels like an eternity. You’re breathless, but Vader seams unfazed, except for his eyes, which are more black than amber now. His lips shine with spit, and you’re certain yours look the same.

“I sense great potential in you, my apprentice,” Vader says with a sharp grin.

In the back of your mind, you’re ashamed that you succumbed to the dark, allowed yourself to be corrupted. But at the same time, Lord Vader can show you things you weren’t even permitted to dream of with the Jedi.

“Thank you, Master. I will not disappoint you.”

And with that, your fate was sealed. A former Jedi turned apprentice to the face of evil in the galaxy.

reblogs, asks, dms, and comments are always welcome and encouraged on my blog! my inbox is always open for headcanons, drabbles, requests, and even just to chat. if you enjoyed this fic, please help me out by reblogging it so more people can enjoy it! if you want to be notified when i post future fics, join my taglist here.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #darth vader fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #darth vader fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars prequels #star wars x you #star wars x reader

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a-dorin · 1 month

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“When you laugh like that, it just — you’re so beautiful, you know that?” is so anakin x reader coded

~🍯

this one definitely pulls at my heartstrings because i can actually hear him saying this line.

here you go my honey <3

"rex, there's no way he did that," you can't help but let the laughter flow from your lips, warmth seeping in all throughout your face.

seventy-nines was packed to the brim tonight, bustling with clone troopers, twi'leks, togrutas, even a few jedi were in the mix. it was a night to celebrate, as the republic had just claimed victory over an intense battle with a heavily armed separatist fleet.

you were crammed into a corner booth with the boys of the 501st, their voices only growing in volume after every round. of course, you participated in a few shots yourself, probably a little too tipsy for your own good.

"yes, he did," rex nodded, "we all heard it."

"calling obi-wan daddy was not part of the plan but it worked," since anakin was to your right, you felt him shrug slightly, "it was a last minute decision."

once again, you felt the laughter taking over, nearly suffocating you as tears welled up in your eyes. the mere thought of anakin referring to obi-wan as "daddy" was enough to send you spiraling in your state. but thinking about obi-wan's reaction? gods, that really got you.

bringing a hand to your mouth, you covered the giggles that nearly consumed you, a stinging sensation clawing along your sides. your cheeks were burning now, the temperature around you only elevated.

"make sure to breathe," rex chuckled, "we need ya alive, general. we have more stories to share!"

"yeah," anakin leaned in, his lips nearly brushing your ear. the action sent a shiver down your spine, "i need you, general."

"anakin," you squeaked as you felt fingers massage your thigh, "you need to--"

"and i need to remind you of something. when you laugh like that -- you're so beautiful, you know that?"

his voice was low, just low enough for you to hear it. just as he finished his sentiment, his fingers massaged your thigh once more, almost to give you an indication that he meant every word.

"thank you," you murmured, "i hate my laugh."

"and i love it," the corners of his lips were curled into a meek grin. a tiny, boyish grin.

almost as if his statement was a confession. a secret not meant to be shared. at least, with you.

"do we need to separate you two?" a voice interrupted the moment, calling from across the table, "no attachments in the order! rah, rah, rah!"

"oh stop it," you couldn't help but giggle once more as you notice a faint pink hue tinging anakin's cheeks, "i was just giving her a compliment!"

"we know what compliments are," rex countered, a smug smirk painting his lips as he folded his arms across his chest.

"and what's that?" anakin arched a brow.

"words of affection, which means one thing. either you two are already deeply intimate with one another, or you're about to be."

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #rex #captain rex #the clone wars

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bahnloopi · 8 months

Text

[OC] **Long post ahead

Meet Orran (Orang "yeti, ape man"). The Legendary Saiyan of the Sento Saiyans. Though he looks poofy and harmless, he's pretty violent. An anarchist against the peaceful society the Sentos try to uphold. The Elders elected to banish him to the arctic regions of Planet Sento.

He believes the ancestor Saiyans of the mother race (U7 Saiyans of Planet Vegeta) were right to use their Oozaru powers to destroy and roam free. That's true freedom to him. He doesn't think his people should be pacified and laxxed to their chaotic nature.

The problem is that if the Sentos were all allowed to collectively transform into Oozarus en mass, they could destroy the planet. He doesn't care if it'll kill him too in the process. He deems that as his ideal "freedom of identity" or "to be oneself in their purest state".

He's deemed as a danger to their society so he's kept subdued to a massive boulder in a cave underground. His hands and feet are bound by the ankles to wrists, arms to rock. His tail is clamped under the rock to keep him weak enough so he won't break the bonds unattended.

There are some troopers stationed around to watch him and unbound him for daily breaks but they keep a restraining pressure on his tail at all times while roaming at a short-distance.

He'll always ask the Transporters that come to bring him food and resources when he can "come home". They don't want him to return to the tribes since he'll end up offing the Elders and inciting riots and cause them to shift into Oozarus from under stress. He's very manipulative.

When a trooper steps away, he'll constantly bang the back of his head against the boulder to try and soften the pressure on his tail to gain his strength back while he plans his escape. The troopers will see the dents and have the boulders changed out.

He has cataracts in his eyes so his vision is slightly blurred. His other senses are heightened. He'll occasionally use the beads on his drapes for echo location of the trooper's positions to study their patterns.

He is the ONLY exception to my "no transforming into a super forms (recolor)" rule since he is a legendary. He transforms into a Golden-Legendary Oozaru as natural but I'm looking to put a spin on the super form I'm deciding to give him. I'm still developing in that aspect. He himself does not know he is a legendary yet.

The Therapies have tried to help him but he scares them too bad. He'll constantly ask them aggressively when he can come home or tells them to stop pacifying the people who turn into Oozarus and let them run free.

It got to the point the Therapies refused the call to do wellness checks on him because he stresses them out and they themselves may turn and they have to make the extra effort to keep themselves in check.

**He's 6'4. His proportions and body shape are intentional. I want him to stay wide, poofy, and elongated.**

(He hates to be touched)

#bahn's art #art #sento saga #orran #dbs au #dragonball super #au #oc

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

prev chapter

———

“Okay,” Will says, when they’re comfortably on the road. This early in the morning, Highway 17 is practically empty; nothing but sunny skies and clear air rushing through the open roof. The emptiness may also be attributed to the fact that it is a random Tuesday. “Pick a number between one and nine.”

“Uh, five.”

“Good choice, good choice.”

He opens the centre console, digging around Nico’s – well, and his, at this point – collection of CDs to find the right one. He makes a little noise of triumph when he finds it, blowing on the back and wiping it on his shirt before sliding it into the port.

“One half-assed polish isn’t gonna fix those scratches, Solace,” he teases.

“If you weren’t such an emo fuck, Playlist Five wouldn’t be so scratched.”

Nico laughs, conceding this round. Will looks inordinately pleased, nose scrunching along with his tiny smile even as Linkin Park starts blasting through the speakers, which he hates.

“Three songs ‘til Britney,” he grouches as Nico starts hollering along to Points of Authority. Nico shakes his head, still grinning – as if he didn’t make these playlists. If he is truly so miserable, he wouldn’t have put the song on at all.

(Nico knows, in the very back of his mind, that Will actually and truly cannot stand Linkin Park. To him, it’s not music at all. He has never been able to get into it, as much as he truly likes music of every genre. If Linkin Park is on this playlist, and they’re on more than one of the playlists Will has made specifically for their shared car rides, it’s because he cares about Nico more than he hates the band. Nico shoves this knowledge deep into the dustiest corners of his mind, because that’s more than he can afford to think about.)

The next couple hours pass by comfortably. There isn’t much to remark on the side of the road except the odd fruit stand, or farm advertising eggs and honey, so onward Nico drives. He keeps an eye on the odometer, but mostly trusts Will’s calculations. If he says they won’t need gas ‘til Anthony, wherever the hell that is, Nico believes him.

“Highway changes to the 98 through here,” Will says, nodding to the tiny sign that boasts nothing except Ft. Meade CITY LIMITS, right next to the giant banner half the size of the church it's attached to that reads, REPENT OR BURN.

Ah, Florida. Please one day change.

“Do I need to exit?”

“Nope, the road just changes to a different number.”

He eases off the gas as they approach the tiny town, watching carefully for state troopers. And, like, children, probably. So far he’s passed twelve gun ranges and one school, but whatever. He can have priorities, even if this garbage state doesn’t.

“Hm. 98 is a better number.”

“Absolutely not,” Will tells him, aghast. “17 is a prime number!”

“Ninety-eight is more fun to say. Also, prime numbers suck.”

“You take that back –”

Nico slides up his sunglasses, shaking his head fondly. Nerdiest nerd to ever nerd. He would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so endeared.

He presses back on the accelerator as they exit the town, turning up the music as Will’s rant ends. He shucks off his shoes – Feet off my goddamn dash, Solace – and curls up into his seat, burying himself in a book. Nico glances away from the road to try and read the title, but quickly gives up since the font is bright fucking purple, for some reason, and in some horrible looping shape that he knows will give him a migraine. All graphic designers should be in prison.

“Hey, there’s apparently a gator reserve forty-five minutes ahead.” Nico squints again at the book. Barely, he can make out “roadside” and “weird”. “‘Weird American Roadside Attractions’,” Will reads aloud, noticing Nico looking. “Such as a very nice and highly rated gator reserve –”

“No.”

“Road trip, Nico. Adventure.”

“I’m super happy to adventure away from living fucking dinosaurs, Solace.”

“Aw, come on, they’re kinda cute –”

“Two thousand pounds per square inch of jaw strength! You are the one who told me that!”

“You don’t think you could take one in a fight?”

Nico stares at his best friend incredulously. He’s got a thoughtful little frown on his face, looking at the sky as he contemplates. Nico notices, vaguely, that the shade of his irises is the exact same colour.

“No, I do not. Obviously.” He pauses. “You think you could take a fuckin’ gator?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“See, that’s crazy, because fifteen seconds ago I genuinely believed you were an intelligent person.”

“Do not lie to me and tell me you don’t have a list of animals you know you could take in a fight,” Will says, instead of rising to the bait. He waits, meeting Nico’s glare, eyebrows raised.

“An ostrich,” Nico admits, begrudgingly. “I feel like – one good punch to the throat –”

Will smiles smugly at him. “That’s what I thought.” He turns back to his book, fiddling with the corner of a page. “Also, ostriches are more closely related to dinosaurs than alligators. So. Check and mate, motherfucker.”

They pull into Anthony at around eleven, at pretty much exactly a quarter tank – just like Will predicted. He looks inordinately pleased about it, so Nico shoots off a quick prayer to the karma gods.

He trips on his way out of the Jeep. Nico smirks.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” he says, unaware of Nico’s hand in his humbling. Nico waves him off, attention turned to the gas pump.

Annoyingly, as he pulls out his card and handles the pump, he remembers Will’s scrunched nose and pursed lips as he’d explained, when they were 16, how gas station pumps were frequently more germy than their toilets, and cleaned approximately one hundred percent less. Suddenly, his hand begins to feel grimey.

Twelve bags of chips, a gas station slushie, and a pair of clean hands later, Will is still nowhere to be found. Nico frowns, craning his neck to look around the tiny parking lot as if he somehow missed Will’s neon orange shirt the first time he looked. Still not catching sight of him, he walks hesitantly back to the Jeep, tucking his snacks away and biting his lip, contemplating. Will is both very fast and very easily distracted, but he has enough sense not to go too far in a random town five hours from home. If he sticks by the car and waits, Will’ll be back soon.

But, on the other hand, waiting is torture.

Easy decision, really.

He locks the door, hopes that no one will show up with a pair of wire cutters and a flathead screw driver, and sets off. The first thing he notices, and he adds it to his mental list of things to loudly complain about when Will is locked in the car with him, is that it is fucking sweltering. In the hours approaching the afternoon, the day has gone to pleasantly warm to so hot the air is actually thick with it, and he doesn’t have wind ripping through the open windows to cool him down. Plus, he’s wearing jeans, and for the first, and hopefully only, time in his life, he envies his friend’s cargo shorts.

The second thing he notices is that Anthony, Florida, is empty as shit. All the love in his heart to the people who call it home, but also, move, maybe. He’s hesitant to stray too far from the gas station, in case Will comes back and finds him gone, but there are no hills or anything. He can see quite far down the road. The only thing he sees is a possum starting a fight with a poor random guy – which, actually, is kind of fun to watch.

Perhaps he has judged Anthony too harshly.

“Nico!” shouts a voice, startling him. He whips around and finds Will, standing in the goddamn centre of the road, the dumbass, waving like a lunatic.

“There is no possible way I was going to miss you,” Nico informs him when he’s close enough. “You are approximately the height of the Washington monument. I could not miss you if I tried.”

“I wasn’t waving to get your attention, I was waving to shoo away the eagles that mistook you for a mouse.”

Nico kicks him in the shin. Will, well used to his violence, dodges, grinning, except in the act of hopping away from Nico’s dangerously hardy boots, he somehow wraps his foot around his own ankle and goes sprawling.

Nico smirks. “Who’s the short one now.”

Faster than he can even follow, Will’s hand darts out, wrapping around his ankle, and tugs, yanking him yelping on the asphalt next to him.

“Foul!”

“All’s fair in love and war, Neeks.”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Nico screams at the alarm bells blaring in his brain, he doesn’t mean it like that and you know it oh shit he’s looking this way quick look normal look normal –

“I can do war if that’s what you want, Solace,” he manages, honestly quite proud of himself for managing speech with approximately fourteen percent of his brain still functioning. Damn.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway.” He crawls to his feet, offering Nico a hand. He takes it, dutifully fighting the urge to pull Will down again, just to be an asshole. He’s cool like that, and most definitely being normal about the scrape of Will’s callused fingers against the inside of his forearm. “I found maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I need you to come look at it immediately.”

“Sick,” Nico says, immediately intrigued. He and Will have their differences, sure, but if there’s one thing they can agree on it’s their sense of humour.

He follows will down the road, passing the gas station again. (His car, thankfully, remains in one piece and beautifully not-robbed.) They dark across an empty intersection, walking across a yellowed lawn as they approach a run-down, patchy, one-storey bungalow with a rusted sign that reads: The Iron Works.

“Behold,” says Will gleefully, “the Abstract Iron Centaur.”

And behold, Nico does.

Gaping, he observes the structure standing proudly under the sign. Striding proudly, rather, its front legs bent to simulate movement, its human arms poised as if ready to strike. It wears a medieval knight’s helmet, and holds a rusted axe. The entire structure is a little taller than Will, and made of, presumably, iron, rusted into a light roan red.

“Abstract Iron Centaur,” Nico repeats, after several minutes of silence.

Will still looks delighted. “It was in my book. I had no idea what to expect and also I didn’t believe it was real. Isn’t it the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“It’s…something.”

“We gotta take a picture, Neeks. I never want to forget this thing.”

Nico allows himself to be pulled, still somewhat bewildered. It’s not even the oddest thing he’s ever seen, it’s just – he has many questions, like, for example, why? How long has this creature existed? How long will it persist? Who created it? Why is it in Will’s dorky book? Does it house a soul?

“Okay, squish in, this camera is older than your elderly ass and doesn’t have a timer.”

The familiar jab breaks him out of his stupor. “Seven months older than you, fucker.”

“Geriatric.”

Without warning, Will crowds them under the Abstract Iron Centaur’s lifted arm, and then presses his widely grinning cheek right flush to Nico’s, raising his beat-up camera to the air.

Nico’s brain goes static.

“Say cheese!”

“Hnngh,” says Nico, as the camera blinds him.

Luckily for his continuously worsening blood pressure, Will pulls away the second he hears the click, shaking the ejected negative to help it develop, and Nico has a second to remind his lungs that they have a function, actually, get your shit together, I am not dying in fucking Anthony, Florida.

“You look like a dork!” Will says, delighted. “Look!”

Blinking at the photo shoved one sixteenth of an inch from his eyeballs, Nico indeed looks. The Abstract Iron Centaur looks more foreboding on camera, somehow, but Nico barely notices it – instead, he finds his gaze drawn to the beam so wide it forces Will’s eyes shut, and the dazed, dopey look on his own face; eyes wide, mouth dropped, slightly, and posture undeniably leaning into Will’s magnetism.

Humming to himself, Will slips his wallet out of (one of) the (many) pocket(s) of his shorts, tucking the photo inside it. Nico melts into a puddle of goo on the dead grass. His mortal soul escapes his body, descending rapidly. His atoms return to star dust. Et cetera.

“Oh, shit, we gotta go if we want to reach Georgia in good time.”

“Right,” says Nico, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. “Let’s go.”

He absolutely does not haul ass to his car. He walks at a normal pace, for normal reasons, thoughts in a normal place.

“Back on the 75,” Will instructs as they peel out, sliding sunglasses on his nose. “We gotta scoot around town a bit to get to the entrance, but it won’t take long.”

“D’you know this place?” Nico asks, even though he doubts it. As far as he knows, Will was outside of Sarasota one time: in the move from Austin. He supposes his mother might have had a concert up here, or something, and unusually, let him tag along, but he doubts it.

“Nah, just memorised the map.”

Nico hides a smile. “Oh, of course.”

It’s all too easy to tease Will, but there was a reason he was valedictorian. There’s a reason for his many shining scholarship offers, his endless well of ridiculous facts pulled from nowhere. He is, genuinely, the smartest person Nico has ever met.

Even if he genuinely believes he can fight an alligator and win.

“Two hours ‘til we cross state lines,” Will says brightly, shouting slightly over the wind as they merge onto the highway. “And then on to infinity!”

“Onto infinity,” Nico agrees, matching his smile.

Already, he’s proved Nico wrong. They’re farther now than Will has been since he was seven, and there’s nothing in his expression that suggests he wants to slow down.

Privately, and quietly, Nico lets himself start to hope.

———

next chapter

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

Note

Hear me out because I absolutely need an enemies to lovers style captain Phasma X jedi reader hate fuck

Ooooooooh yes! I would absolutely love to write this 🤤 This takes place before episode 7 btw, when the first order is looking for Skywalker but hasn’t captured Poe yet.

Rock Bottom ~Captain Phasma xFem Jedi!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, enemies to lovers, degrading kink, strap fucking, hate fucking, grey/questionable consent area…?, etc…

Enjoy (;

It was the time of the First Order. And they were desperate for Luke Skywalker.

Recently, there had been a tip off of an extremely powerful jedi hiding off on a deserted moon on the edge of the galaxy.

The tip off had said a jedi had shut down a First Order inspection of the moon with ease.

“Sir, we’re coming up on the moon.” a first order officer reported to Kylo Ren.

“Good. Captain, I want you to at my side.” Ren commanded, motioning towards Phasma.

“Yes, sir.” Phasma replied.

The first order’s ship landed on the deserted moon and began their search for Skywalker.

The nearby suns were cresting at high noon, when Ren tilted his head sensing a pull from the force.

“This way.” He directed the selective group of troopers.

The group made their way through a thick forest before coming to a clearing with a hut in the middle of it.

There was still smoke coming from the chimney…

“Captain, take a line of men to make sure he doesn’t escape. The rest of you, surround the hut.” Ren ordered

The men slowly crept up around the hut, as Phasma took some troopers to the edge of the forest.

Phasma watched as the men then invaded the hut with shouts.

But it was empty…

Suddenly, Phasma heard a snap of a twig behind her.

She turned around and caught a glimpse of something rustling away from her position.

“Lieutenant, keep the troopers in formation!” Phasma shouted as she ran off to follow the movement.

From a distance one could see the lieutenant terrified and explaining the situation to Kylo Ren, who was quick to follow the Captain.

As Phasma ran deeper into the woods, so did you.

You both could feel Ren on your heels.

You were a surviving jedi who had barely escaped with your life on multiple occasions now.

As you ran through the trees, you tripped.

You tripped and hit your head on a tree stump.

Hard.

You tried to get up and keep running but you were met with a blackened vision and immediate dizziness.

You could barely see a shimmering trooper running towards you.

And that’s when you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been the captive of Ren for a week now.

Or at least that was your guess.

You were held in a windowless room and tortured on the regular.

What you assumed to be every day, Ren would come in and try and extract the location of Skywalker from you.

But you couldn’t tell him.

You didn’t know.

After what you assumed to be three weeks, Ren was getting frustrated.

You had been trained explicitly for using the force as a defense for the mind and Ren couldn’t penetrate you.

One particular harsh day, Ren was going on for hours…

After awhile, Captain Phasma stepped in and requested Ren.

With a huff, Ren stepped back from you, who was on the border of unconsciousness.

“If you’d let me take a stab at her, I’m sure I could have her talking.”

You heard the Captain say in a muffled tone.

Then you vaguely recall seeing a frustrated Kylo Ren storm off.

You sighed.

You assumed that meant you were done for the day.

But the Captain then came in.

She then proceeded to undo you from the torture chair and drag you down the hallway to your cell.

She threw you on the ground and turned around to close and lock the door.

You tried to stifle a groan, but it slipped out anyway.

You heard Phasma chuckle.

You got yourself to lean against the cell wall and looked to find Phasma standing and leaning against the opposing wall.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you, jedi scum…” Phasma stated.

You said nothing but simply stared her down with your body shaking and your breathing labored.

Phasma then crouched down, mere inches away from your face, and you raised your head to meet her helmet.

“I’ll have you talking in days…” She taunted, although her tone was extremely serious.

You dryly laughed a bit, “What are you gonna do, torture me?”

At your words, her hand was on your neck and squeezing.

You whimpered at the touch, unable to stifle your sounds.

“You’re going to wish I tortured you…” She seethed.

She then let you go and left with a slam of the door.

You gasped for air.

On the other side, you could hear a muffled Phasma yelling, “No on is to go in there and no one is to give her anything!”

It was then that your body gave out on you and lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the next few days in the dark with no one and no food and no water.

Finally, you heard the click of the door and light flooded into your cell, causing your cell lights to switch on as well.

You winced.

The door closed again and you heard the click of the lock.

Once your eyes had adjusted, you saw a tall woman in front of you.

Fuck was she stunning…

Your thoughts had started to spiral from all the depravity from the last few days.

She was wearing a basic training uniform, but she didn’t look like a basic first order trooper…

You could spend days imaging what she’d look like underneath that ill suited uniform…

The woman crouched down to your lied down figure, grabbing you by the chin and lifting you to your feet.

Successfully pinning you to the wall.

“Does my Jedi scum feel like talking now…?” Phasma jeered.

Oh Fuck…

It clicked for you now.

It was Phasma…

“Fuck you!” You spat in her face.

Phasma chuckled darkly.

“Just remember I gave you a way out…” She sneered with glimmering eyes.

Your stomache was a pit…

You knew very well what tension was between the two of you…

Without warning, Phasma flipped you around, caging your hands above your head with one hand and tilting her chin sideways with her other.

Your breathing was erratic.

Your pupils were blown wide.

“You want something scum?” Phasma taunted.

You gulped and stayed silent.

She then pressed her body against yours, squishing you against the wall.

Oh, OHhhHHh Fuck…

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat from the bulge you felt ghost grinding against your ass.

She was packing…

You were trying your best to take deep breaths, but your body was reacting against your will.

You found yourself pressing your ass against her bulge.

Phasma wickedly chuckled again, “Already so needy, slut?” she taunted you.

Your heart raced tripled at that nickname…

“No...” You gritted out, which both of you knew was an obvious lie…

“Really?” She mock-taunted, “So if I were to slip my finger in your cunt, your telling me that you wouldn’t be soaked and your walls wouldn’t flutter in desperation…”

You shuddered at her words and tried to stifle the moan that came up at the idea of someone touching you…

Especially her…

But before you could process anything else, you felt Phasmas fingers ghosting the back waistband of your pants.

“Why don’t we find out how much of a slut you really are, scum…” She lustfully jeered.

With that, she had hooked your pants with her finger and dropped them to the floor.

You gasped as the cold air hit your wobbly legs.

“Oh my, do I make your knees weak, slut…?” Phasma taunted.

You merely whimpered in response.

With that, you could feel Phasmas fingers slipping under your underwear and finding exactly what she had been looking for…

“Fuck jedi, you’re dripping…” she breathed out, her own voice faltering.

Your face went red with embarrassment and shame.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way…

And she knew that…

She was exploiting that…

You tried to squeeze your thighs together at that, but Phasma was quick to stop you by shoving your legs apart with her own.

She then removed her fingers from your soaked cunt, eliticing another whimper from you.

“Are you ready to talk yet, slut? Or do you need further encouragement…?” She jeered into your ear.

“Fuck you…!” You spat yet again.

Phasma chuckled and continued her taunts, “Seems like the slut needs to be taught a lesson…”

In seconds, Phasmas trousers and underwear were lowered so that now you could feel her strap right on your ass…

She moved your body in one swoop so that your ass was sticking out more and your legs were widened.

“Please…” you whimpered, at this point you were so conflicted you didn’t know what you were begging for…

With her available fingers, Phasma moved your underwear to the side and placed her dick right on your clit.

At this your hips bucked forward.

“Please God please…!” You cried out, half of you begging her to stop, the other half begging her to fuck you dumb…

“You asked for it, slut…” She breathed, her voice coated in lustful venom.

Her hips then thrusted her dick straight into your aching hole with no warning and no time to adjust.

It was impossible to contain your cries this time.

Phasma began to pound into from behind as you writhed and screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“OhHhh God right there…!!” you cried out as Phasma bottomed you out.

“That’s right. I am your God…” She hissed in your ear, while relentlessly hitting your g-spot without fail with every single thrust.

Your legs were trembling so badly now, they were threatening to collapse…

Your breathing was erratic and all over the fucking place…

As much as you hated to admit it, you were gonna fucking cum…

And Phasma knew it.

“Oh my, does my slut wanna cum…?” She taunted.

“I… please… don’t stop…!!” You spurted out your words, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Tears were now streaming down your eyes.

This was so wrong…

You could feel yourself about to tip over the edge and one last thrust from Phasma did it.

The orgasmic wave hit you like a brick wall…

Your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed against your captor.

Your screams were so out of control, Phasma had to quickly clasp your mouth shut.

After a minute, Phasma pulled out of you and unclasped her hands from your mouth, and you immediately collapsed on the floor, panting like a fucking dog and your mind reeling from what you had just done.

Phasma took the time to collect herself as well, the silence being a pleasantry for both of you.

You were the one who broke it.

“I don’t know where Skywalker is…” you whispered, looking up to your captor with a tear stained face.

Phasma met your gaze and lightly chuckled.

“I believe you.”

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rosicheeks · 9 months

Text

I hate state troopers with all my fucking heart

#obviously hate cops too #but FUCK state troopers #I hate them so so so so much #hope they all burn #sorry not sorry #shut up rosie

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antianakin · 10 days

Note

What are your thoughts about fans who say that Vader killed Fox for Ahsoka (in one of the comics) or Vader will brutally kill Barriss in the upcoming Tales of the Empire because of what she did to Ahsoka?

Vader didn't offer Ahsoka to join him in Rebels (been a while might be wrong), or offer any of his other jedi friends to be spared. Or any of the younglings. It seems fanfic-y for Ahsoka to get through to Vader more than his own son. Anakin obniously stopped giving a fuck about anyone but Padme, yet he still gets along-ish with the stormtroopers.

I feel like "getting along' with the stormtroopers is a stretch, personally, but I can't say I'm familiar enough with stuff set in that time period focusing on those characters to really speak to it with a lot of authority. I feel like he just doesn't care about them enough to bother them or actively try to kill them, but that doesn't equate to getting along.

As for Ahsoka, I feel like the claim that he killed Fox (I assume this is referencing that comic where he snaps Fox's neck shortly after O66) for Ahsoka is kind-of ridiculous. I haven't read it myself, but I've seen people discuss it and seen some of the panels and my understanding is that he kills Fox because the clones shot at him when they saw his lightsaber, not understanding that he wasn't another Jedi or whatever and Anakin just... kills Fox to demonstrate power. I dunno, this is what Anakin just... DOES. He chokes people who bother him in the OT all the fucking time, we see him get close during TCW all the time too. Anakin leans towards violence as a coping mechanism for a LOT of things, and the immediate motivation is the insult of being shot at by the troopers as an enemy and the disrespect he interprets it as, so he uses Fox as an example. COULD you choose to interpret it so that part of his motivation is that he already hates Fox because of what happened to Ahsoka during the Wrong Jedi arc? Sure. Is it the actual stated motivation within that storyline? No.

Honestly, I find the entire concept that people might be angry at FOX for the Wrong Jedi arc immensely ridiculous just to begin with. Like I get anger aimed at the Jedi Council and Wolffe/the 104th FAR more than I get anger aimed at Fox or the CG. Like Fox and the CG barely have anything to DO with the entire incident, they put her in a cell after a prisoner dies with no other obvious cause immediately after the sound is cut on the recordings, and then they try to recapture her after she does in fact literally break out of her cell and go on the run. Like she's under suspicion and then leaves without permission after a second incident happens, OF COURSE they're trying to get her to stop and come back. They're not HUNTING her. You know who DOES hunt her down? Plo Koon, Wolffe, Anakin, and Rex. All of them go out with squads of men to literally hunt her down and recapture her. And it's WOLFFE who ultimately finds her at the warehouse and stuns her. Fox has NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS.

As for what Anakin will do with Barriss, I honestly can't say. I wouldn't put it past Filoni to have him kill Barriss simply because we know Filoni doesn't treat Barriss well and that sounds like something he'd find compelling and meaningful. I'm not planning on watching TOTE for exactly this reason, I'm waiting to see what everyone else says about it since it's bound to be bad no matter what happens.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #commander fox

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lesbianhotch · 2 months

Text

first meetings

determined to keep your planet neutral in the ongoing war, it seems youre alone in those plans. the arrival of clone force 99 only further complicates things.

sfw, wrecker x fem reader, pre order 66, after echo joins, more notes at the end!

“We do not need military intervention, and I certainly do not need a babysitter.”

“My dear, they are not babysitters, they are here for our protection. If you could see past your own ridiculous-”

You don’t hear the rest of his sentence, because you’re storming out of the room and out through the doors to the stone cobbled paths as fast as you possibly can.

Ridiculous? How dare your father call your ideals ridiculous. You were a neutral planet, one that was going to take care of itself and its citizens, and the last thing it needed was to get involved in this pointless war. Your father bringing in the Republic for assistance would only spell trouble, you were sure of it.

The bringing in of a clone squad didn’t mean you had joined the Republic, that he assured you. It was simply a favor in good faith from the Grand Army, protection after a few incidents seemed to leave your father with a target on his back.

A target that only got bigger as he spoke to both Republic and Separatist leaders, seeming intent on making your small planet and its citizens go one way or the other.

You’re continuing down the path through the grounds, stewing in your own thoughts when you hear a voice behind you.

“Excuse me- Hey, wait up!”

It’s the voice of one of the troopers you’d just been introduced to.

You walk faster.

He’s running now, the sound of boots against stone and plastoid armor clinking together and he moves to outpace you. It’s not hard considering his height, and before you know it the man is stepping in front of you, putting your hurried walking to a halt. He’s in front of you so fast you almost knock into his chest.

He puts a hand out to catch you as you stumble slightly, but you don’t need it.

You recenter yourself, head held high.

“What is this about?” As if you don’t already know.

“Sent me to come get ya. They want ya back in there.”

The scene being played out right now must be funny, you’re sure of it.

A grumpy looking royal, a future Queen of an entire planet, standing her ground with crossed arms in front of a clone trooper head to toe in black and red armor, his helmet painted to resemble some sort of sharp toothed beast. He’s towering over you, and you back up just a step so you don’t have to crane your neck so much.

“I don’t care if my father wants me to come back, I will not be going.” You state this matter of factly, with all the air of finality you can muster. “So if you’ll excuse me.”

You take a slight step to the right, and all the trooper does is put out his arm, and your path is completely blocked.

This might not be as easy as you thought.

“Listen, I’m sure it won’t take long.”

“You don’t know my father,” you grumble. Going back means the chewing out of a lifetime. The lecture will never end.

You chew on your lip for a moment, considering your options. “How about this? You simply say I was too fast for you, and that I got away. Simple enough.”

The trooper groans, and his hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck. His helmet tilts in a way that implies he’s looking anywhere but at you, and it’s a little charming.

“See, thing is, m’not a very good liar. Everyone says so.” The admission comes out bashful, very un-soldier like in your opinion.

“No matter. I’ll just be going.”

You try the same move as last time, scooting to the left instead, but another large arm comes up into your vision and you’re blocked again.

“Sorry, but I can’t let ya go.” The trooper stands with both his arms spread wide, and he takes up the entire width of the path, bushes and plants on either side preventing you from making a break for it out into the grass.

“You can, and you will.”

There’s a long bout of silence as you stand there, staring down the man in front of you. You hate that his face is obscured by the helmet, and that you can’t get a read on what he’s thinking. It makes your escape that much harder.

After another long moment, he sighs, and his head ducks down slightly in an apologetic gesture.

“M’ really sorry about this.”

The statement blindsides you, confusion making your brows raise. “Sorry about wh-”

He picks you up with such ease, it’s actually impressive. However, that doesn’t stop the scream that leaves your mouth, or the flurry of curses that come after as he hoists you over his shoulder.

“How dare you!”

He’s silent as he starts to carry you back, arms wrapped tightly around your calves. The pauldron on his shoulder digs into your stomach, and you beat against his back with your fists.

“I am a Princess, the future Queen of this planet and I demand that you put me down right now instead of carrying me around like a karking animal that’s destined for the dinner table!!”

If you two weren’t a sight before, you definitely are now.

Your yelling and petty rambling has no effect, and you try to wriggle out of his grasp only once before you realize how futile it is. You sigh, feeling defeated and embarrassed, going silent as the trooper continues his walk back up the path back to your home, where your father and the others await.

When you fall silent, he speaks up.

“You alright up there?”

You scoff. “As fine as one can be, thrown over the shoulder of a man she doesn’t know.”

The grunt he makes in response almost sounds like agreement. “Like I said, I feel bad about doing it, but it was the only option. You got a lot of fire to ya!”

His complement is unexpected, and it comes out of him excitedly, followed by his hearty laughter.

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get warm. You’re still angry, that hasn’t changed but it’s been tamped down slightly.

He carries you for a little longer before stopping a few feet away from your home.

“If I put ya down…you promise not to run?”

You consider it for a moment. You don’t think you’d make it very far.

“Promise.”

His gloved hands move to your waist, removing you from his shoulder and setting you down gently on the ground. He doesn’t appear winded in the slightest, but the warm sun and hot air of your home planet has him moving his hand up to his head as if to wipe away the sweat from his brow. He stops himself halfway to the motion, instead bringing a hand to the lip of his helmet to take it off his head.

Oh. He’s handsome.

Quiet handsome, in fact.

It’s a little unexpected, and when he smiles down at you, your stomach does some sort of flip that you do not like.

“Your planets a hot one, huh? Like I’m boiling in my armor!” He laughs that boisterous hearty laugh again before he runs a hand over his eye and then covers himself back up with the helmet.

“Yes, ah, this is the worst of it. It’ll get better over the next few rotations into something more bearable.”

“Thank the Maker for that.” His voice is tinny through the helmet, and it doesn’t take much to decide you liked hearing him better without it and in fact wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

‘What are you doing?’, you think. ‘Giddy thoughts about this man you don’t know, about a soldier?’

You snap yourself out of your foolish reverie. Or at least try to.

“I better get inside now.” You nod curtly towards him. “Thank you for your kindness trooper.”

You had a dislike for soldiers, that is true, but your mother had raised you with manners for Makers sake.

You imagine there’s a kind smile under his helmet as he looks down at you. “Just following orders, Princess.”

Now there's nothing different about the way he says it; you've heard people use your title on a daily basis. But something about the way he says it....

You feel that heat come across your cheeks again, and oh no, that is not good.

You hurry inside, where the lashing you’re about to receive from your father somehow looks better to you than experiencing the feeling of a foolish, ill-advised, “how in the world have I lost my head”, beginnings of a crush.

notes: wow my first foray into bad batch fanfic!!! wrecker is my fav guy so i hope youll enjoy and maybe ill do more!

ive been writers blocked for months and then i cranked this out in like two hours so?? this feels great! beautiful valentines divider is by @stars-n-spice

#tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #the bad batch #em writes #i cant believe THIS broke my writers block holy shit

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juniperwoodwell · 1 year

Text

Domesticated

Paring:Kylo Ren X F!Reader

Word count:2k

Warning(s):Soft!Kylo, Minor bullying, Fluff.

A/n: There will be a part two coming out soon.

Being the assistant to the newly appointed Supreme Leader had its perks; for instance, A higher security level and managing to have a higher level than Hux definitely did something to your ego. Larger living quarters and respect. Simple things that just made the position every bit more enjoyable. Well...That's what Y/n initially thought. She wasn't expecting to get stuck between Kylo Ren and General Hux's 'Issues' They hated each other. That was just plain as day.

"Well, if it isn't the secretary." A tall man with short brown hair walked over to Y/n as she headed to the cafeteria's assembly line of unidentifiable foods.

"Jack. Let's not do this today, please." The woman sighed as she grabbed a tray. "No, No, Let's. Y'know, everyone's wondering how you got that position. I mean, just a month ago, you were nothing but a mission report editor. What'd you have to do, huh?" The man mirrored her actions and leaned in towards her, his voice low. "Did you have to screw around with some superiors? I bet you did. I mean, come on. You were nothing, and now you're the Supreme Leader's pet." Y/'ns patience was growing very thin with this man; He was always like this. Jealousy seeped off him like a thick steam. "You know what, Jack, You can go fu-" "Miss Y/l/n, You're needed in the command center immediately." A Stormtrooper informed her, and she looked down at her tray of grey mush and then at the trooper. "Alright, Thank you." She dismissed the trooper and left her tray on the assembly line. "Yeah, that's right. Go find your master, pet." That bastard was getting on her last nerve, but she ignored him and left the cafeteria. If only she'd let her anger take over, that man would've been on the floor with a broken arm and a bleeding nose. But that was her old life; She'd done too much to get where she was to risk it all on that man.

"General." Y/n called out when she entered the command center; she'd seemed to of startled the ginger, but it was subtle. "Ah, Good. Punctual as always." He spoke, then cleared his throat as he turned to her; Hux was actually quite fond of the woman; she was resourceful, respectful, and almost always completed her work perfectly. He understood why Kylo Ren hired her.

"Do you have the information I requested yesterday?" He asked,

Y/n nodded and pulled up the files on her datapad. "Would you like me to send them to you, Sir?"

The General took the data pad from her and skimmed through the work. "Exceptional, Yes. As soon as possible."

"of course, sir." Hux handed her the data pad, and she quickly sent all the information to Hux's pad.

"Thank you. You are dismissed." With that, the General turned and returned to his office, and Y/n headed back toward the cafeteria.

The interaction lasted for almost the entirety of her scheduled lunch time, and when she returned to the cafeteria, it was empty; all the food was put away. A sigh escaped her lips. "Alright. I can wait for dinner, that's fine. I'll go do some of the reports I need to finish." She spoke softly to herself. She headed to her tiny office that was adjacent to Kylo's. It was one-thirty when she started on the reports, and when she looked up to take a break, it was already five o'clock. "Shoot! I'm going to miss dinner." She shot up out of her chair, fixed the mess of her desk, then left her office.

When she turned the corner, the supreme leader had turned the same; If it weren't for her quick reflexes, she'd be picking herself up off the floor. Quickly, she stepped out of his way, only to realize he had grabbed her arm.

"Just the woman I was looking for." The distorted voice echoed off the walls. "My apologies, sir, but I was just heading to dinner." the grip on her arm was released, and Kylo stood in Infront of her.

"The cafeteria is in the opposite direction." He stated, watching as she looked around frantically. "Oh. You're right.." Y/n turned back to him, exhaustion lingering behind her irises.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her up and down. "Um...Why do you ask?" She scratched the back of her neck nervously. "You're wearing two different shoes." The statement shocked the woman, and she looked down at her shoes; he was correct.

"Ah...That makes a lot more sense now."

"What does?"

"Well, I've been getting weird looks from everyone today, and I wasn't sure why. Even Hux was looking at me like I was sick or something."

A low distorted chuckle escaped the dark mask. "Go fix your shoes the come to my quarters." "But, Sir, I've already missed lunch. I'd rather not skip-" Kylo raised his hand to silence her.

"Do as you're told, Miss Y/l/n."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded and turned from him. Once she entered her quarters, she sighed, "Am I ever going to eat today?" She asked herself, then changed her shoes. Her room wasn't too far from Kylo's; he liked keeping her close in case he needed her. Three knocks on the large door, then it opened, but no one was on the other side. "Uh...Sir?" She called out, "I'm in the kitchen. Take the door on your left." Kylo's pleasantly low voice echoed through the hall.

When Y/n walked through the door, the table was set, and two plates were laid on top. "Take a seat." The man instructed, and she did as she was told, "Oh wow...this smells amazing." She stated as Kylo sat down across from her. "Did you make this?" she asked, looking at Kylo.

"I did. You seem surprised by that."

"Uh...well, I just assumed you'd have a personal chef or something."

"I've got trust issues." he joked (partially). "But I prefer to cook my own food. I learned most of it from my mother, so...It should taste good." Y/n smiled sweetly at his small confession. "Well, I'm certain it will taste better than anything they serve in the cafeteria." Kylo nodded at her words, returning her smile

"Let's eat then, shall we?" so they did. There wasn't much conversation; they were exhausted from the day, but being in each other's presence seemed to bring a peaceful atmosphere.

"You did well, Sir," Y/n spoke up as she finished her plate and wiped her lips with a napkin. "Thank you. I'm glad you approve of my cooking." He chuckled, finishing off his plate. Y/n contemplated asking the question that'd been bothering her since she changed her shoes but decided against it. "What is it?" The man asked, his voice soft with curiosity. "I...No, It's nothing, Sir."

"It's obviously something if you're blocking me out of your mind."

"Oh, am I? Sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's fine. If you have something you want to say, then do so."

"Alright, I was just wondering why I'm here."

"You mean, why did I invite you to dinner with me?"

Y/n nodded, staying silent "... the truth is, I'm not sure myself. When I saw how disorientated you'd been in that hallway. I just wanted to keep an eye on you, and when you said you skipped lunch, I felt like you needed a good meal for once. You deserve it for all the work you do." Y/n stared at him in shock.

Kylo Ren wasn't one to express his feelings like this. He was Mr. Dark and Scary. No...This...This was someone completely different. This was the man behind the mask, A completely (mostly) normal man with emotions and feelings. This was the first time Y/n had truly seen Him.

"What..? Did I say something wrong? Is there something on my face?" He questioned, trying to figure out why she was staring at him. "I-I Um. N-No, Sir. You're fine. I mean, it's fine." Y/n stood up quickly and picked up her and Kylo's plates. "Allow me to wash these since you made such a fantastic dinner; it's the least I could do to repay you."

"Y/n-" Kylo called out to her, but she ignored him as she walked over to the sink.

"Y/n." He called again as he stood from his chair, following after her. He grasped her by her elbow and turned her to face him. "Breathe. You're panicking."

"I know." She breathed out, placed the plates on the counter, and rubbed her hands over her face. "Sorry, sir."

"Don't be. You've been going through a lot of changes this week. I understand you must be stressed. Why don't you sit back down?" He guided her to the table, and she returned to her seat. She sighed heavily as Kylo refilled her glass with water. "Drink this." He ordered, and she obeyed. "I didn't mean to get all...Frantic. But you're right; My life has changed a lot this week...month even." Kylo nodded and returned to his seat. "Well, tell me what's been bothering you today. Maybe I could do something to help relieve some stress as you've done for me." He offered, "Yeah...Uh. Well, there's apparently this rumor that's been going around since my promotion."

"Ah, I didn't think you were the type to be affected by rumors."

"I'm usually not. This doesn't just affect me, but...." She paused to clear her throat and sip her water. "But, It could also possibly affect you."

"Me?" He asked, surprise written on his features, "Yes... People are saying that I got promoted only because I've been sleeping with my superiors. Which, in my opinion, is outrageous. Some of these people were my friends and collogues. There's this one guy who hasn't stopped bugging me since the promotion. I came very close to beating him up." Kylo huffed a laugh. "I would've liked to have seen that." Y/n smiled sheepishly. "What did he say that made you angry enough to want to hurt him?"

"Well...for one, his face just annoys me beyond all reason, but secondly...He called me your... Pet." A rose tint crept up Y/n's face as she spoke. "Pet?" Kylo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes, Sir." She paused, poor choice of words, when her eyes met his; he was amused by her response but cleared his throat. "Continue."

"Y-yes. Right. Well. I feel it's unfair to you, Sir. My reputation doesn't mean all that much to me, But yours does, and I don't want to be the reason it gets tarnished."

"Y/n...You don't need to worry about that. They're just rumors they will be stopped; if anyone chooses to act on them."

"But- I just...What if, because of this rumor, people will think that you're abusing your power for personal pleasure? That could cause conflict between you and everyone working for you."

"It won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because. Think of who I am. You know my reputation isn't just for show. If anyone dares to continue this rumor, they will have to deal with me. And you should be worried about yourself. What would happen if people started believing you got your position from inappropriate means? The respect those people have for you would be gone. Your work will never be trusted again. You'd be nothing, just like you were when I found you. You'd go back to sleeping on that small cot with no one to care for you. You'd be less than scum in their eyes." His words were harsh but true, and they frightened her. Y/n swallowed hard; her skin crawled with goosebumps. She realized that she had more to lose than anyone else. Especially him.

"Yes. You do. But I gave you those opportunities and this new position, and I won't allow you to overthink something that I will never let happen." He reassured her as he reached over the table to take her glass out of her hand, afraid she'd crush it. "Why don't I walk you to your room?" He asked as he stood, but y/n was silent. She was not meeting his eyes. He walked over and crouched beside her chair. Placing a hand on her knee

"Y/n." His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Hmm? What did you say, Sir?" Kylo sighed, "I'd like you to stay in my guest for the night" Maybe it wasn't the best idea to leave her alone in the state she was in. he thought to himself as he watched her face change color. "B-but wouldn't that only make the rumor worse?" She stuttered out. He shook his head. "No one knows you're here, Plus. I'd rather not have you stay alone tonight."

"And why's that, sir?" Kylo raised a brow in suspicion. Did she not realize she was shivering? "Y/n, look at your hands." She did as she was told, "Oh. I'm scared. Ha. That's new." She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't want any of that to happen, Sir..." He gently took her hand in his much larger one. "It won't. Trust me as you have before. I won't let you down." Y/n stared at the contrast of their hands; she stayed silent for a while. Tracing the top of his hand with her free one, absentmindedly, "Okay..." She spoke softly, a smile spreading across her delicate features. "So. If you'd like to change, a pair of sleepwear should be on the dresser. Then we could do some paperwork if that'd help settle your nerves. If not that we could do anything you'd like." He offered as he stood, pulling her gently from her seat and guiding her to the guest room. "Could we read something?" She asked when they reached the door; Kylo nodded as he opened it and turned on the light. "I'll be out here when you're done." He informed then closed the door behind her.

The room was similar to her own but a bit bigger. There was a queen-sized bed in the middle and a bathroom on the left. Just like he said, there were two pairs of sleepwear, one for males and another for females. Y/n thought the woman's sleepwear shirt was too formfitting to be comfortable in, so she wore the male shirt with the female leggings. She neatly folded her clothes and placed them on top of the dresser. When she was finished, she walked back out of the room; the lights had been dimmed to a comfortable level that didn't strain the eyes. She hadn't looked around when she first came in. It wasn't just a kitchen; it had a decent-sized dining table, and off towards the side was a couch facing a massive transparasteel window. Had that been there the whole time? She thought to herself; she noticed the familiar figure sitting on the couch.

"May I join you?" she asked when she approached the small lounge. "Of course, Make yourself comfortable," Kylo gave her a faint smile as he observed her; he noticed her choice of clothing and chuckled. "Is something funny, sir?" she asked as she sat on the couch. "No, It's nothing. You said you wanted to read something. What were you thinking?" She was curious but let it go. "Something that'll put me to sleep."

"Ah, so...Paperwork. I bet you'd be asleep in minutes if I read that aloud to you."

"You would be correct, sir." Kylo hummed as he picked up his datapad lying on the coffee table. "You don't need to be so formal when we're alone, Y/n."

"but it's disrespectful-"

"Screw Respect. We're both adults; We're both just people right now. So you can call me Kylo."

"Okay...Kylo." Y/n smiled tiredly.

His name on her lips was heavenly. He wished he could hear it forever.

#writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x f! reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #star wars #star wars fanfiction #ben solo

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transcriptroopers · 6 months

Text

I have a tangent, troopers. I am shot-gunnin’ it, hitting like ten different topics. I think I have a point, bear with me.

Something I have found increasingly important to emphasize when engaging with theory is the ability to delineate overlapping types of violence and to clearly define which is a more immediate threat to life.

I have two personal facts to illustrate my point.

First, I recently began using a cane. This has changed my life significantly. I now need more accommodations to perform the same tasks. Even in a hospital, I have to tell doctors to slow down so I can keep up. My cane upsets able-bodied people and makes them nervous around me. There’s no denying that in being a case user, I face oppression.

Yet, in every way, my circumstances are better than someone who uses a wheelchair. Because I’m not sitting down, everything is still at my height. I may be forced to walk in the grass if there’s no sidewalk, but a wheelchair user is screwed. I can still walk and get exercise and not worry about atrophy like if I used a wheelchair. I would be inconvenienced having to use the stairs during an emergency, whereas in a wheelchair your life may be in danger.

We are both types of disabled people who face oppression at the hands of an ableist society, but we still have different experiences, and have different - sometimes competing - accessibility needs. It is not “oppression olympics” to be able to identify when one type of disenfranchisement is a more severe and immediate threat to life; I am not betraying cane users to advocate for better accessibility for wheelchair users.

Next, I’m a veteran of the United States Army. I am also LGBT, and I am being vague about the specifics of that on purpose. There is an inordinate number of people who think this is a good thing – that I am both LGBT and a veteran. Everyone thinks it looks good for #Diversity for there to be #Representation.

I understand where this is coming from, because I used to think this way. Being an oppressed group, LGBT people are hungry to see people like them being portrayed positively, and in the US, the military is almost universally revered. I have never been harassed for being a veteran IRL, always praised; in fact, being a veteran has often shielded me from harassment associated with being LGBT, using a cane, etc. But online, folks will very casually wish for your death in the most gruesome ways, accuse you of crimes you’ve never committed, and block you before you can explain that, actually, you purposely enlisted in your MOS in Air Defense (protection against incoming missiles) because you didn’t want to hurt anyone, and even before drone warfare the vast majority of soldiers will never see combat. And it hurts your feelings, because you’re Me, a sensitive LGBT who didn’t expect the people who I thought were my friends to want me violently killed, Just Like my oppressors did, right??

So, here’s how I got over all that and got to the root of the issue: It’s only online that people are free to unload, sometimes; they are frequently shadowbanned by social media. My material reality is that as a disabled veteran, even an LGBT one, I have innate privileges because I am a soldier first. I have free healthcare for the rest of my life, and if I need it, assistance with legal matters, education, and housing. I could get a 10 to 20% discount in almost any store or restaurant in the country. I could get a placard for my car and it would reduce my chances of being pulled over. I opted for the optional “Veteran” mark on my drivers license to endear any cop who pulls me over. There are like three different national holidays celebrating me where I can get free food. An angry person online who says “veterans kys” hurts my feelings, but doesn’t in any way make my life materially worse.

Meanwhile, I have very much been a victim of hate crimes for being LGBT, both online and IRL. Even in the PNW I was assaulted and encountered actual hate groups like Proud Boys. There are no hate groups against veterans. Even if veterans are high risk for homelessness and drug abuse, (just like for example, idk, LGBT people) it is very clear to me which group is more meaningfully affected by violence.

Like I said, when you’re a rather sensitive person, a stranger gruesomely wishing for your death is upsetting regardless of the reason. Obviously I would prefer that people don’t do this at all, just as I would prefer that there be no kind of oppression at all.

But there is, so they do. And because I have a Critical Thinking Brain, I was able to realize that there was a difference between an outburst from someone with the ability to act upon it and an outburst from someone with almost no ability to act upon it. A jailed prisoner heavily draped in chains yells “I’ll kill you!” A well-trained soldier pointing a gun at you says “I’ll kill you!” Which are you more afraid of?

If you answer “both,” you are being willfully obtuse. You know the prisoner has next to no chance of carrying out their threat, but you know the soldier’s gun is loaded, and they have killed before. We are all capable of understanding that there are degrees of power and violence. I don’t begrudge any person who casually wishes for the deaths of soldiers, even though the soldier is themselves a victim of a kind of violence by the state. In fact, you can read all about the various abuses endured by soldiers on my blog, but the woes and miseries of soldiers are not (and should not be) of consequence to their victims.

Now that I’ve made you read two pages of blathering, guess what this post is really about? That’s right – Palestine. Fuck.

Western colonial nations are responsible for the ongoing genocide against the Palestinian people, and it is with our manufactured consent that the US and Great Britain continue to escalate the violence. Thus, it is more important than ever for us to be able to critically examine the way oppression affects us.

Israel is a settler-colonial state: a group of settlers who have violently expelled indigenous people from their land. This is documented fact; even early on in the occupation, 1948-esque, comparisons to American cowboys were being made, implicitly stationing their enemies as dirty savages on untamed land which was being claimed for use by a pure and righteous civilization.

Unfortunately, even in modern times, US Americans still believe the above rationale for their own displacement of indigenous people. To do otherwise would be to admit that we ourselves do not belong on this land – land that we live and work on and sometimes have “owned” for generations. We choose to believe what matters is Now, and the other stuff is all in the past.

Sadly, it’s true that many Indigenous American Peoples are no more. But numerous Indigenous American Tribes and Nations are still around, their customs have endured, their languages are alive, and they are still working their lands, as best as they can given the circumstances we’ve given them. However far back the atrocities were, Indigenous Americans deserve not only recompense, but leniency for behaviors that we on our high horses may find uncouth but otherwise don’t materially affect us or our privileges.

This is my opinion for other settler-colonial states as well, including those of Great Britain, Canada, Australia, etc. If settlers cannot feasibly “return home,” as will often be the case, then they must at least concede ownership of what was never theirs to take and cease reaping the benefits from their settler status. This would involve returning land and power to their original peoples, (likely not all or even most of it, especially as so much is now destroyed and heavily populated) and laws being rewritten so that they are not settler-centric.

In that case, for me, the Palestinian Genocide has one starting and end point: this is a conflict between the colonized and the colonizer. It is essential to view all further analysis from this lens, lest we lose context and get confused when spin doctors tweak our media, or when our friends accuse us of supporting our own oppressors.

Why am I putting all of this on my soldier blog?

Because it is us, soldiers, who are complicit with this genocide. Even American soldiers right now are complicit with Palestinian Genocide because it’s with our weapons, aircraft, finances, and strategies the genocide is being perpetrated. I remember being enlisted ten years ago trying to argue for the rights of Palestinians to At Least not be war crimed on a regular basis, and was mocked, because I was arguing for rights for “inhumane terrorists,” and aren’t I a hypocrite because aren’t I LGBT, and don’t I know that Palestines hate LGBT people? It frightens me to see how much worse it has gotten in ten years, and how many otherwise peaceful people have bought into this pinkwashing: using LGBT rights as a cudgel to determine who “deserves” human rights and who deserves violence. Palestinians do not have to be perfect victims to deserve human rights, and I find the thought that a person in any context deserves to die to be abhorrent.

I feel obliged to state here that I am not Jewish, though I have been considering conversion for a few years. I first sought out a rabbi in 2020 and paused my journey due to the pandemic. I still do self-study but don’t consider myself capable of speaking on behalf of Judaism.

I do feel capable of speaking on pinkwashing soldiers, and this is very simple: an LGBT soldier is still a soldier. Being a soldier overshadows all of our other identities, be they gender, sexuality, race, religion, wealth, or ability. This is drilled into us. People tell us to go away and die (if they feel safe to do so) because we are complicit in the overwhelming, overarching violence that is the state. We are no different than cops in this regard. Israeli soldiers, too, are soldiers before they are anything else. Women, LGBT, POC, Poor, Jewish. Often, the oppressor has themselves been oppressed. That's why it's so easy to convince people that their actions are just.

But here we see the same situation as before. The Palestinian, after eighty years of violent apartheid and genocide, bombed, starved, half-dead, says, “I’ll kill you!” The Israeli Soldier, with billions in US aid, who controls the Palestinian’s water, food, fuel, medicine, roads, air, and borders, calls the hospital and tells them, “We will bomb you in sixty seconds.” And then they do, and they want my sympathy because I too am a Soldier, and so I must understand that they have Lost, and it is So hard to lose people in war; so hard.

Of course they have my damn sympathy! I can’t help it; I have plenty of it to go around! Of course I’m opposed to religious persecution, to the killing of innocents, the destruction of culture! That is why I stand with Palestine in the first place! I hate violence, that’s why I joined a strictly defensive branch of the army, and don’t believe in the death penalty even for “really bad crimes" because I know how easily people can manipulate the public opinion against people who’ve committed “really bad crimes” for real this time I promise guys this time. And you don’t have to believe me, you can still tell me to kill myself and that I’m a murderer and I won’t begrudge you for that either.

We are currently seeing an unprecedented rise in antisemitism globally. Indeed, Israel only exists because of antisemitism in countless other nations across millenia. Even the US, Israel’s greatest ally, has deeply embedded antisemitic roots. Unless every other major country in the world immediately and aggressively begins to tackle their own antisemitism within their own borders, something akin to Israel will continue to exist, which in turn makes us responsible for the Palestinian Genocide.

Until that is addressed, we’re left with the original fact: Israel as it exists is a settler-colonial state, built on stolen land amidst an on-going genocide, and because Israel’s military is conscripted, that makes even ordinary civilians complicit in the war crimes of their armed forces.

American civilians cannot allow this violence to continue. We must reject genocidal rhetoric and demand that we return indigenous land not only to Palestine, but all Indigenous Peoples everywhere.

Lacking a punchy ending to this tangent, I’ll leave a list of links to various organizations that you can support in this time.

UNRWA United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Middle East. Currently on the ground in Gaza attempting to deliver humanitarian aid despite bombings.

Jewish Voices for Peace - This was one of the groups who marched on Capitol Hill declaring “Not in our name.” A civil rights’ group.

Palestine Children’s Relief Fund - They specialize in emergency medical care, training surgeons, and even sending children to the US for otherwise inaccessible treatment.

Decolonize Palestine - A basic resource to start with if you want to learn more about why this violence is inextricable from colonialism.

#free palestine #long post

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