#this just felt like real Star Wars to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Loved your Star Wars Threesome hds. Can you do some for Genshin men too? You can choose the combos.

I sure as damn well can Anon! I think a lot of these combos are obvious but what the hell, hot either way.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Gorou, Ayato, Thoma, Pantalone, Dottore, Al-Haitham, Kaveh, Childe, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, threesome, clit stimulation, blowjob, double pentation, anal sex, banter, degradation, praise, dirty talk, marking, competition, table sex, breeding kink

A/N: This is what you if you can't decide who you want more, you just have them both.

KAEYA + DILUC

"You seem to be enjoying this more then the two of us sweetheart." Kaeya's lips find and tug on your earlobe, his hands firmly hooked under your legs, keeping you in the air as he thrusts his cock into your cunt, your arousal dripping onto the hard wooden floor.

Behind you Diluc kisses the back of your neck as your back arches against his chest. "Should have told me you wanted to share. She's so pretty, you know I wouldn't have said no. She's too good too pass up on." Your legs twitch and spasm as you feel Diluc's throbbing dick pushing into your ass. Kaeya laughs, slowing down to let Dulic adjust.

"This is just one of her many fantasies." The two men fall into perfect synchronized rhythm, pulling out just at the other thrusts in, never leaving either hole empty for long, "Starting tonight we'll be taking turns on you, so make sure to keep up."

ITTO + GOROU

"So pretty." Gorou moaned, his cock throbbing and dripping with cum as he watched Itto rail you from behind. The general had his ears pinned all the way down, his mouth opened in a permeant moan that matched yours in both volume and constancy.

"Hear that babe, the general here think's you're real pretty. It'd be rude not to thank him." Itto jerked you forward with his hips slamming against yours. You gasped as you fell, your head right in front of Gorou. You started at his aching, heavy balls, kissing, sucking each one into your mouth and releasing with a wet pop before you liked your way to the cockhead, flicking your tongue over the tip a few times.

Finally taking his cock into your mouth your moans became muffled, replaced only by Gorou's and Itto's grunts. "Fuck. Slower, don't want to come yet. Not yet." His claws dug into your back, leaving thin scratch marks that Itto kissed over. His thighs made a constant slapping sound against yours, you couldn't decide which you liked more, the taste of Gorou's cock and cum, or the stretch and fill of Itto's. You came from both, almost at the same time. You were still struggling to swallow Gorou's cum as you felt Itto's flood your pussy walls with his.

AYATO + THOMA

"Thoma, don't just stand there with your mouth open. Why don't you use hers. You're always helping others, now help yourself." Ayato pinned your legs open on his thighs. Thoma who still had all his clothes on watched as your wet cunt got pounded repeatedly. He gulped and with tentative steps got closer, losing his pants in the process.

His cock was pulsing in his hand, the tip an angry red color, just begging to be satisfied, "This alright?" He asked you, his face turning pink. The first lick had the warrior gasping, his hands grabbing your head, "Had my eye on you for a long time. I thought it was selfish to want you. But now I can have you. Finally feel you. Mmn. See you. See your lips parting for my cock."

"You can have more then her mouth. After I'm done with her that is." The throbbing cock in your pussy jerked with jealousy. You didn't forget about him. And you let him know by rolling your hips down, taking Ayato's cock all the way to his balls, your ass smacking against him with a loud smack. "On second thought I might never be done with you beautiful. Certainly not if you keep treating my cock this nicely."

PANTALONE + DOTTORE

Dottore's rough hands grabbed your ass cheeks, most certainly leaving his handprints on them by now, "Here I thought I'd see you as cockdrunk as can be and you keep finding ways to prove me wrong. Never been so happy about that." He pressed your hips harder into the table, his balls smacking against you while his cock kept ejaculating into your already messy hole.

"What else did you expect? This little whore has been going from my cock to yours for months. About time she got her punishment. Or reward." He smiled down at you, his hands clenching your wrists tight, preventing you from moving. You didn't want to move, you wanted to keep chocking on Pantalone's cock all night no matter how you whimpered or how tears rolled down your face.

"Reward indeed. A set of holes like you should be grateful we're treating you so well. Come on. Say thank you." Try as you may your words kept being interrupted by the two men savagely fucking you from both ends. What's more you felt Dottore finger pushing into your ass, making your pussy flutter around his cock, never giving him the opportunity to go soft, "Look at you. Little slut having all three holes fucked at once. We'll use each one of them tonight, don't even think about telling us to stop." That was the last thing you wanted tonight. You'd keep them satisfied even if it made you pass out. Which knowing Dottore just might.

AL-HAITHAM + KAVEH

"I'm so glad we decided to let you stay here. If I knew you sucked cock that good I'd have convinced Al-Haitham sooner." Kaveh looked behind him at Al-Haitham who was too focused on drilling his cock into your needy pussy to retort, "You even got him to shut up for once. Your cunt might be magic."

"For once we agree." Al-Haitham pulled you up allowing you to wrap your legs around his back, "I've never had one that felt so perfect around me. I want to keep my dick inside you forever beautiful. You're incredibly talented at this." His hands tightened on your hips, his cock on the verge of coming, his pace slightly sloppier then before but just as deep.

Kaveh on the other hand slowed to a crawl, his balls warm and heavy on your chin, his taste strong as he dragged in out of your mouth, "You should feel her mouth then. You must have practiced that tongue a lot to be able to do that. Ah, I think we'll keep you as a roommate. You passed the trial run. Or you will when we see how much cum you can hold."

ZHONGLI + CHILDE

Two sets of hands held you down. Childe's wrapped tight around your back, Zhongli's on your hips, holding you at the perfect angle for his cock to sink in as deep as it could. "You're being greedy. Who knew your pussy could handle two cocks at once. I must say I'm impressed." Childe pecked your lips teasingly, taking note of how glossy your eyes were.

As if on cue Zhongli drove his hips hard into yours, sending your head back as a loud moan tor from your throat, his eyes narrowing on Childe's smug face. "Pity you didn't learn your lesson the first time around. You humans, always wanting more then you can have. You, my darling, better be ready to face the consequences of this greed."

The two of them kept their thrusts strong, the sounds of your pussy squelching not stopping for a second as it was always filled by one of their cocks, "We're gonna dump so much come in you just like you want. Fuck you might even get pregnant and you won't know which one of us it was that breed this tight little cunt." Imagining you pregnant awoke something primal in Zhongli, his hips rammed against yours at lightning speed, "Alright, lets see who wins." Childe laughed to meet the challenge head on, or in this case cock in.

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illyrian-dreamer · 2 months

Text

And Then There Were None – Part 2

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

<<<Part 1

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage, suicidal themes

You woke in a bed as soft as the clouds, the covers silken with feathery pillows piled beneath your neck so plush your hardly felt them.

A level of luxury you had never known could exist – and that’s how you knew you weren't home.

Vision a blur, the room you woke to was dim, safe from the fire that crackled at the opposite end. Your vision reeled as it took in the space around you - an obnoxiously large bedroom.

The haze lingered as you raised your hand in front of your face - a quick way to decide between reality or dream. If this were real, someone had done an awfully good job at scrubbing the dirt from your fingernails.

But then a familiar ache throbbed as you bought your other hand from under the covers, and a stark white bandaged wrapped tightly at your wrist. Real then, and that fae male had indeed broken your wrist. The scars from your journey were faint now, but still there too.

You felt for your stomach under the covers then, for any signs of your lingering ailment. They had changed you - thick cotton like padding within the fresh undergarment and the softest gown you had ever felt between your fingers.

You pushed the thought of who might have changed you from your mind. Healers - you hoped.

Your skin beneath the gown was soft and oily, and smelt of salve. The healers had done well to heal you. Good, this was good. It meant you had a chance to return home, continue your search.

Gods – the search, your family. You had to continue.

You were alone in this room, and it was night - all good signs. Perhaps with enough strength, you might slip be able to escape unnoticed…

With a slight dizziness, you swung your legs from the bed, toes pressing to the warm, rich wood - as if they floor was warmed from within.

You wouldn’t dare to poke your head out the door - not in a house of creatures with heightened senses.

The windows - that was your only option to remain unseen.

Whether it was the delirium of the events days prior or the haze of exhaustion you were yet to shake, you didn't consider escaping into an unknown lands in nothing more than a nightgown was a fools choice, mortifying at the least. But survival called, your family called.

Padding around the postered bed, you scanned quickly for your belongings . Clothes, waist belt, knives were no where to be found.

The cupboard was empty, safe from a long black coat made from the softest velvet your had ever felt. Tying the fabric firm at your waist, you didn’t take the time to roll the sleeves that drooped well past your fingertips - clearly made for a much taller, larger form than your own. Black was good, especially at night, helping conceal the silky cream night robe that seemed to scream find me.

If you had the time, you would have marvelled at the wall of windows - in shapes and sizes you didn't know a glass welder could blow. Arched in a row of three, each of them had smaller panes within - still large enough to fit through, and with latches.

Perfect.

You fiddled with the latch, the world outside dark and unmoving with no sign of light until you cast your eyes upwards. Fingers halting on the latch, your breath knocked from you chest as you observed the most brilliant array of stars you had ever seen.

Were these the same stars as the human lands? How was it that such magnificent beauty was concealed from your own part of the world?

Another stab of loathing for fae found you then – it seemed even the Mother was versed in reserving luxuries only for them.

The latch clicked open, and you pushed gently against the pane, the window unmoving. Frowning, you pushed again, before trying to pull it inside instead. The glass moved on smooth, oiled hinges - and that’s when the howling began.

As loud as a pack of wolves, yet that insistent noise was instead from wind.

Fretting at the noise, you glanced behind you in urgency. Any second now they would come, the wind as good as any alarm. So with a strong grip on the window ledge, you pushed your head through, eyes squinting through the unforgiving gales.

The wind almost knocked you, hair immediately whipping this was and that, eyes stinging with tears as you failed to see clearly.

Scanning as best you could, you saw no stairs of landings to climb to, no balcony from which you could hope to escape.

And then you looked down.

It was instinct to back away, so fast that the back of your head knocked against the pane, and a quick profanity escaping your lips.

You had never been so high up before. Never knew anything could be built so tall.

With a roll of your stomach, you forced your head back out, avoiding looking anywhere below the horizon.

On the far left, hidden mostly by brick, was a distant glow of a city, the lights warm and flickering with glorious life. And between you and it - a river, it’s water the blackest of blacks in the night, besides from the reflection of the city that budded it’s banks.

To your right - dark, intimidating forms of mountains and peaks. And with a quick flash below, far, far below, there was only night.

Your gut lurched both from the height and realisation - it was suicide to try and escape.

It took a moment to force your rigid muscles to push yourself back inside the room, hair strewn over your face and cheeks pink from the bite of the cold.

“We don't usually advise opening the windows here,” a melodic voice spoke over the wind.

Hissing in fright, you whipped your head behind you, to the most beautiful women you had ever seen. And beside her - the same blue siphoned male, his eyes aglow with hazel.

You fished for your voice then, strained in your throat from days of not speaking, the rush from the wind and the awe of what and who stood before you fighting for silence.

They were am incredibly handsome couple.

Folded clothes in her hand, the blond simply placed the outfit on a spare reading chair, moving lightly to re-hatch the window behind you. You almost sighed in relief as the piercing howling stopped.

“The windows are charmed to block out the noise,” she explained, her tone light and friendly despite the step of caution you took to distance yourself. “Well, don't you look good in black,” she perked, brown eyes scanning you, her smile sincere.

You looked down, the fabric of the coat drooping from your frame.

“I stole this,” you said dumbly, before cursing yourself silently.

The women laughed, and you could have sworn a slight smile pulled at the males lips too.

“That’s quite alright, besides, you were awake before I could deliver you some proper clothes,” she gestured to the set she bought in, but you were fixed on those golden locks, the way they bounced when she moved, and that dress…

“I’m Morrigan by the way, but you can call me Mor.” If she caught you staring at her, she did not let on.

You frowned, senses returning, and you scanned the room again. Formalities, names, nicknames –completely unnecessary, unless…

“I must carry on with my search,” you said sternly, eyes darting between her and the blue-siphoned male.

He knew. He would have told her.

Those large, towering wings pulled in tighter against his frame, and the male opened his mouth to respond. But Morrigon beat him to it.

“You’re awake much earlier than the healers expected. They advised you may need a few more days rest.”

You tried to hide your panic, eyes scanning her, then the door, then where Azriel stood between it.

Mor traced your eyes. “We are no threat to you,” she said gently.

You swallowed. “Then I am free to leave?”

Mor schooled her face into something softer, more sympathetic. “You may want to meet with out High Lord and Lady. I know they are eager to meet you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “They wish to discuss your predicament.”

“Have they found my family?” you all but blurted, heart thundering with anticipation.

She shook her head then, her face falling more grave. “I’m sorry, I haven't any news.”

A gnawing at your stomach then - something was wrong. How long had they kept looking, had they found anyone?

“How many days was I-?"

“Four,” the male answered, hands still clasped behind his back. There was no smile on his face, but it remained soft.

“And up and about well ahead of the seven days the healers predicted! Quite the fighter you are Y/N,” Morrigan chirped.

You almost jumped at the use of your name. And then a scowl fixed on your face.

“My apologies!” More gasped quickly, and you missed the glare Azriel threw her way, Mor’s eyes meeting his with guilt. “Please forgive me, I forget that humans aren't accustomed to-"

“Mind reading?” you gritted, more exposed under the ridiculous ensemble of clothes you wore. You wish you could drown in the lengths of extra fabric.

Mor wore a broken smile. “Of sorts, yes.” She paused then, fretting to fill the silence. “Would you like to change your clothes? They should be to your size.”

You looked at the set neatly folded at the chair.

“The healers have washed you, but we can draw you another bath if you’d prefer?”

Your cheeks reddened at the question, the male’s eyes politely finding somewhere else in the room to fix that gaze.

Was this their way of telling you that you smelt?

Humiliated and frustrated, your eyes narrowed on the male. “What is your name?”

Hazel flicked back to you, and he took a moment of silence to observe you before answering. “Azriel.”

You eyed him up and down, taking him in fully. Tall, large, muscled - your attempts to stab him would have been laughable. Delirious indeed.

As he eyed you back, his gaze fixed your wrist, even while concealed beneath the velvet coat. “I am sorry to have hurt you.”

Civilised - far more civilised than you would have expected fae to be.

You cleared your throat. “Well, I suppose I’m sorry for my attempts of murder.”

His mouth pulled into a polite smile, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the firelight.

Mor chimed in then. “They told me you caught Azirel off guard, Y/N. Like I said - quite the fighter. Not just anyone can catch the Shadowsinger by surprise.”

Shadowsinger. As if at their mention, the furling, smoky shadows peaked from Azriel, and you let out a small yelp. It seemed it was your turn to be surprised.

Without a whisper of a word, they withdrew into the Shadowsinger himself, as if scolded back into place. Azriel gave no hint of amusement as he kept watching you.

Your eyes danced from him back to Mor, cheeks once again redening.

“This is… overwhelming,” you admitted.

Mor gave you a sympathetic smile, before placing a delicate, manicured hand on your shoulder. “A bath, then?”

You nodded, and she led you to the bathroom, candles lighting with the wave of her hand, and water now filling the marbled pool, steam quick to fill the room.

You forget about Azriel in the other room as Mor closed the door behind her, marvelling at the arches and architecture, a new set of large windows in this room, this time facing the city. You padded there mindlessly, watching the twinkle of the town that beckoned.

“Velaris,” Mor came to stand beside you. “Or, the City of Starlight. It’s location is well concealed, unknown by the other courts.”

You were reminded of the courts then, the brief lessons they had taught you at school. The divide of seven different courts, each ruled by a High Lord determined by their magic gifted the Mother and bloodline. Allies, enemies – it was complicated twining of politics and power.

But you had never heard of Velaris.

“This place is a secret?”

Mor nodded. “The true home of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. A paradise they keep concealed, untouched by others.”

“Why?”

Mor chewed her cheek. “It’s safer this way,” she said simply.

“And you trust me with such information?”

Mor’s brown eyes warmed, but something sadder hid behind them. “It doesn't seem fair to lie to you about your own whereabouts.”

You nodded, eyes finding the city beyond again. “You mentioned the High Lord and Lady want to meet. Rhysand and Feyre?” Your head ached at the strain to remember their names, but the information found you.

Mor smiled at their names, and you remembered the way the males had too when they first found you. Loyalty coursed through them like some kind of magic. If you wanted to survive, you would be sure to respect their hierarchy.

“Morrigan,” you swallowed, bracing yourself for an answer. “Please, what do you know of the search?”

Mor stiffened, pausing for a moment. “The High Lord and Lady are on their way home to meet with you. They will tell you all they know.”

You eyed her carefully, your heart straining. “They haven't found my family, have they?”

Mor’s face of sympathy was beautiful, whether schooled or real. “I’m sorry, I really can not tell you.”

You swallowed once before nodding, eyes casting out to the city of Velaris, the name foreign in your mind.

“They are travelling as fast as they can, and should be here within a few hours,” she reassured. How or where from you didn't bother to ask.

“A bath then,” you nodded.

Mor smiled tightly. “Should you need anything, just ask. This house - the House of Wind - is just as alive as you and I. You should only have to speak what you wish.”

You nodded, hiding the overwhelming thought of a magical living house as the pool of warm scented water beckoned you with furls of steam.

“A fitting name,” you murmured, remembering of the persistent howl that waited just outside those obnoxious windows.

Mor grinned, catching your every word. “Isn’t it just,” she called and she fluttered from the room, pulling the large, carved door closed behind her.

You took a few moments of silence, again scanning the marble-splayed room you now found yourself in. Dream or reality, you were still yet to be convinced.

That was, until your dropped your undergarments, the thick wads of cotton stained with specks of bright, fresh blood. A saddened whimper escaped you, and your hands instantly found your belly, phantom cramps pulling from within.

You thought about calling for Morrigon, to demand an answer or to see a healer again. But deep down you knew, and that instinct to protect yourself, your privacy, was greater.

A waft of essential oils blew your way, as if the house was beckoning you to bathe. Toeing the water, each of your muscles seems to relax and steam clouded around you. An uncontrollable sigh left you as you moved deeper and deeper, breasts bobbing beneath the water, the muscles in your abdomen glad for the relaxant.

You had never had a bath like this, never indulged in such a level of luxury. Was this how all fae bathed, or just the ones so closely aligned with royals?

It was a jarring comparison to the tin bath in your family home, the steam quick to escape from the batches of hot water your mother boiled in the kettle when you were young. As you grew older, you would often forgo using the kettle, bearing the bite of the cold for efficiency, only treating the children when you bathed them.

A shock of panic found you as the pool dipped even deeper, and you shot from your toes back to the scooped edges of the pool, clinging to the edge. Obviously built for creatures much taller and larger than you, while you on the other hand had never learnt to swim. Not when your parents were so busy, and the creek behind your home merely ankle deep.

Bathe, change, and then you would have your answers - you reminded yourself. So you scrubbed with determination, dipping your head beneath the water and rubbing the pads of your fingers at your scalp too, washing away any remains of the taxing journey it took to get here.

You would start your search fresh, start anew, even swallow your hate for fae if it meant the help of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. You could drink their wine and pass pleasant smiles if it meant they would aide you, if it meant your family returning home safely.

————

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the black tunic and pants gifted by Mor fitting better than any of your skirts and dresses back home. The fabric was soft yet thick, protecting you from the cold, even while the House of Wind seemed to warm from within.

There were slippers waiting by your bed, black also, and your skin seemed to glow from the oils from the bath. The face staring back at you was clean, yet tired, the bags under your eyes still a swell of purple. Forcing your shoulders back, you forced a stance of determination. You could do this, you could meet with the most powerful creatures of Prythian, and you would convince them to help you.

With a gentle knock at the door, a voice called. “It’s Mor.”

“Come in,” you answered turning from the mirror, hands finding the pockets on your pants.

Her eyes warmed at the site of you. “Black certainly does suit you,” she repeated, and you wondered about the comment from earlier. Loyalty to black, it seemed, was also a part of their strange culture. Perhaps something to do with the Night Court, and you wondered if the other courts found such ties to certain colours.

“Thank you for the clothes. I will return them once-"

Mor raised her hand dismissevely. “We’d hear of no such thing. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Are they?”

“Rhys and Feyre arrived a half hour ago. They await you in their office.”

Mor seemed to want to take your hand, but rethought it, and instead raised a palm to the door.

“Follow me,” she hummed before striding for the door, red gown trailing behind her.

With a deep breath, you followed in silence.

————

“Here she is,” Mor cooed musically as she pushed the doors open to the office, the High Lord and Lady stopping their polite conversation with as they turned to take you in.

Your knees almost buckled under their gaze.

That power, even as a human you felt it from many steps away, steely blue and violet eyes seemingly pinning you to your spot. A heavy dose of intimidation overcame you and your body faltered, even though their eyes remained soft, their smiles friendly.

They both stood, Rhysand donned in a neat black suit, Feyre’s dark gown falling from her frame like liquid night. Gorgeous – an absolutely gorgeous sight the both of them were.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Feyre spoke, her voice and as smooth as Morrigon’s, yet younger.

“Welcome to our home,” Rhysand added.

Blinking between the two, your knees almost groaned as you forced a curt bow. “Thank you, High Lord and High L-Lady,” you stammered. “For your hospitality.”

You waited for any sign of compliance from your bow - knowing that fae spoke a language of hierarchy and formality.

But your were instead met with an informal sideways smile of Feyre. “Please, call us Rhys and Feyre.”

You nodded, although you couldn't see yourself respecting that wish.

“Are you feeling any better?” Rhysand asked, violet eyes piercing, refusing to leave you. “We were told you had survived almost a fortnight on your own. That is very impressive.”

You weren't sure you’d ever get used to the unblinking ways of the fae as you blushed at his compliment. Had their parent’s never taught them it was rude to stare?

The smallest of smiles tugged at Rhys’s lips.

But you muffled your thoughts, forcing yourself to answer. “Feeling much better, thank you High Lord. You swallowed tightly, fishing for the right words to say. “And to your healers,” you added with rush. “Thanks to them too.”

“I am glad,” Rhysand smiled, moved back into his seat and gesturing for you to do the same.

“I’ve informed Y/N that you would update her on the search for the humans, to explain your own findings.” You could have kissed Mor for steering the conversation, desperate to hear what the High Lord and Lady had to say.

Feyre immediately began fiddling with the fingers, before Rhysand took them in his own hand. You observed closely at the small interaction, Feyre’s nervous fidget, Rhysand’s immediate response. They seemed to speak na unspoken language.

Not good, not good, not good. Your nails instinctively settled into familiar wounds at your palms.

“Of course,” Rhysand answered, his beautiful features schooling into something more serious as his voice softened.

Feyre’s eyes found you then, something like regret and sorrow burrowed within. In that moment alone, their difference in upbringing was at contrast. Rhys - ever the schooled socialite, tamed and controlled behaviour from years of perfecting courteous mannerisms. Feyre on the other hand – human, child-like sincerity shone through despite her pointed ears and occasional glimpse of canines.

“I’m sorry to say that we have not found your family Y/N,” Rhysand said straightly.

You nodded, assuming that had been the case. That didn't stop the sting in your eyes, or lurch of you gut. You clamped your lips against the wobble that already threatened.

“The truth is, we haven’t found a single human since finding you.”

Instantly the room began to reel, Rhysand and Feyre tipping slightly as your heart skipped to an irregular thunder.

How could this be? You had been asleep for four days, between their armies and winged beings among them, how could they not find a single other? Your mind screamed a flurry of questions, but your remained stiff, only moving to grip the arms of your chair.

Rhysand sighed then, glancing once at his mate who’s look of regret only deepened, tears shining in those grey-blue eyes.

“It is with the deepest regret that we inform you we have traced a powerful magic from the lands of Hybern. A spell, rather.”

You forced your voice past the lump in your throat, past the bile that swarmed in your mouth. “What spell is that?”

Tears spilled from Feyre’s eyes, whatever control she had on her breaking into unmistakable grief.

No, no don’t say it - your mind screamed.

“As spell to kill all humans,” she whispered.

You blinked. And the others watched, waiting.

You blinked a few more times.

"What did you say?"

Rhys's frown was pained. "It seems Hybern was intent on capturing your lands, and used a magic so strong it expelled humans..."

But Rhys's voice grew muffled as your vision narrowed, clouding with darkness.

And then it hit you.

It was as if someone had pulled the floor from underneath you. The room tipped unforgivably, vision blurring and stomach lurching with the lack of food in days.

A broken noise escaped you.

“Y/N, you must breath,” a voice spoke.

Panicked, laboured breaths wheezed from you, and you clenched your eyes shut past the horror of what they had told you.

Meek breaths passed your chest as you tried to speak. “I don’t-how, I don't understand.”

“Hybern has access to the cauldron, and we believe he used it to seize the territory of human lands.”

“It worked then, then spell? They’re gone?” You voice was hoarse, breathy with distraught. Tears had not found you yet, only an overwhelming dread laced with a flicker of denial.

Even while the room danced around you, you caught Rhysand’s tight nod, his face grave and solemn. “We are so sorry.”

Mor’s hand was gentle at your back, as an all consuming anxiety took over and you clutched at your head.

“Please do not touch me,” you rasped, audible wheezes catching in your throat.

Immediately her hand lifted.

“Dead, then,” you swallowed another rise of bile, raising frantic eyes to Feyre.

Broken eyes locked with yours. “I’m so very, very sorry Y/N” she whispered.

“My family, my siblings? Dead?”

She was crying, but you didn't care. You waited for the answer. All she offered was a nod.

A broken, crazed laugh found you then. It was a cold, lonely thing, and you caught Mor exchange a look with her High Lord. There was nothing they could do except watch as you ran shaking hands over your face.

You were trembling, eyes dancing frantically. No. No no no. This was unbelievable. You didn't believe them, you refused to.

“Impossible,” you scoffed.

“We wish it were, Y/N truly,” Mor said softly.

“Then pray tell, how it is that I survived?”

“We’re perplexed by you remaining, Y/N. We have no answer for it,” Rhys offered, a tanned hand stroking at Feyre’s back in practiced comfort.

“Liar,” you snarled, standing so quickly your chair fell back.

Liars - the lot of them, to tell you of the extinction of humans when you sat there alive and well in their home.

Rhys’s eyes pinned you, as if expecting your outburst. “I can’t begin to imagine your grief Y/N, but we tell no lies.”

“I don't believe you,” you spat, hands curling into trembling fists. “You wish to keep me here, to trap me!” Anger rose within you. Typical fae tricks and fibs, that's all this was.

“I would have thought the same thing if I were still human,” Feyre coaxed, wiping at her eyes. “I don't blame you for not trusting us. I truly wish we were lying.”

Something in her sincerity knocked you, cracking at your anger, demanding you to consider their words true.

But your shook your head stubbornly, crazed by their audacity, distancing yourself from the devastation that loomed underneath.

“I will not stay here and listen to this.”

You heeded for the door, pulling on the handles with trembling hands, only to find that blue siphoned male waiting on the other side.

Azriel.

His arms were neatly tucked behind his back, legs wide and ready as if waiting for you.

If only you had your knife.

“You will let me leave,” you all but growled, eyes darting from behind him back to his frame, looking for your way out. He bore no weapons this time , but it wasn't as if he needed them.

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I can’t.” His voice was soft and steady. “It’s not safe for you out there.”

Your fists clenched tighter. “I don’t care! I will not sit here prisoner, I need to find the truth for myself.”

You made to step around him, but those rippled hands gripped you, from the shoulders this time.

“Let go of me!” You struggled against him, but his grip remained strong.

“Listen to me. Hybern has sent an army and they sweep the human lands as we speak. I saw it for myself – if they find you, they will kill you.”

The integrity in his voice, deep down you knew he was telling the truth, even if you refused to believe it. Because believing it meant you had lost everything, everyone. It meant the cruelest punishment from the gods - not another day with the laughter of your siblings, the caress of your mother or hold from your father. No home, no love, no warmth - just a bobbing existence, with grief as your only friend.

Perhaps that’s why you started sobbing, still trying to pry Azriel’s hands from you with his own.

“I don’t care, I don’t care!” you cried, voice breaking as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “I want my family!”

Azriel cast a worried look back to the others who could only watch with pained expressions.

Mor sprung into action, fetching a blanket from a nearby room.

“You are liars, territorial murderers, the lot of you! How could you let this happen?” your voice was hoarse once again, your knees buckling as shock took over.

Azriel moved with you, gently bringing you to the ground as you wept, your legs folding underneath.

The blanket was strewn around you gently, Azriel’s touch surprisingly tender. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a strangely soothing balm against your turmoil. "I wish things were different. But your safety is paramount."

You wanted to fight against it, to push and claw and burrow in the bubble of denial, but you hadn’t any energy left.

Waking to an empty home, to empty streets, days of travel without another human in sight – perhaps you knew all along that this nightmare was real.

The room continued to spin as reality sunk in. Your family, gone. Your siblings, so young, so innocent. The humans wiped clean from the world. A full scale genocide, and you were the only one to survive it.

"They were children," you wailed, your words a harrowing cry. "They were only children."

Injustice, isolation and grief was leaden on your chest, so constricting and heavy you thought you might die.

“I-I can’t breath.” One palm braced on the wooden floor, the other against your heart as you began to pant. Eyes darting between the fae that watched on, you clutched at your chest, panic swarmed with bile.

And then you made sick.

Azriel's grip didn't falter, and someone moved to pull the hair from your stinging eyes.

"Try to focus on your breathing, Y/N," a voice coaxed in your mind, male or female you couldn’t tell. "In and out, slowly."

But the air felt thick, suffocating, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you. Each breath seemed to be a struggle against an invisible force, and panic tightened its grip around your heart.

That voice in your head again. ”Just keep breathing," it said gently, the voice cutting through the haze of your panic. "Focus on my voice. You're safe here, I promise."

The words were like a lifeline in the storm raging within you, and you clenched your eyes shut, clinging to it.

Rhysand approached cautiously, his expression a mixture of sympathy and sorrow. "Az," he prompted, and the male raised from his knees.

Rhysand crouched down in front of you, his gaze unwavering. "We'll explain everything after you've rested Y/N, I promise," he said, his voice carrying the weight of truth.

And as the room slowly ceased its relentless spinning, you found yourself clinging to that promise, holding onto the hope that amidst the devastation, there was still a path forward, however uncertain it may be.

The world outside was dangerous, filled with uncertainty and threats you couldn't begin to comprehend. And Hybern. He had killed your family. Your siblings, those sweet innocent children who you loved so dearly. Your parents too.

Sobs wracked through you again, your body giving out as you let out a muffled whimper of grief.

Strong arms slid from under you turning you over to cup you by your arms and knees. And then you were being carried, away from that horrible scene, from the mess on the floor where your world came crashing down.

You clung to whatever you could, the blanket, Azriel’s shirt, you didn't really care – but you clung and cried. Even when you were again met with the softness of a mattress, even when the weight of the duvet being drawn over as it settled against your skin.

In that tumbleweed of devastation, a rippled hand soothed you, coaxing you to sleep. You gladly let it, letting the horrors of the world slip away, even if only for a moment.

“Just rest now. You are safe.”

And with a final thought, you sent a prayer to the Mother to not wake up to this nightmare.

A/N: Hey pals, thank you so so much for the love and support of Part 1!! I sincerely hope you liked part 2! <3 <3 Now would you like some fries with that angst? Because it'll only get darker from here. Again, I'll tag everything I can at the top of the fic, but please have a look at the warnings ahead, I would hate to hurt anyone <3 <3 If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, drop a comment! Thank you so much for reading, mwa!!

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panicpixieplaygirl · 11 months

Text

I’D HAVE YOU ANY TIME (anakin skywalker)

notes: i hope this is good. i like it but idk writing for star wars seems very intimidating. also hope y’all don’t mind the mini font, i like it so. anyway pls enjoy don’t yell at me <3

synopsis: still a beatles girl at heart…, ‘let me in here, i know i’ve been here, let me into your heart’. anakin being sore & whiny & persistent as always. loosely based on attack of the clones which will be obvious

warnings: smut!!! 😙✌🏼oral (fem receiving). pnv, creampieeeee. ridiculous overuse of many many words (so sorry).

18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 5.1k

You were sick of Anakin’s prying. Barging into your mind when he thought you least expected it, irritating you with his desperation and earnesty. He was like a puppy scratching at the door, and no matter how much you shooed him away, he persisted. Nonstop, every moment of every day, for weeks.

He followed you around like a puppy, too. That was his assignment, unfortunately; to protect you from threats on your life while you were in hiding, but he was excessive. From the moment you met him once again back on Coruscant, he was never more than a few feet away, eyes never off you for more than a few seconds, constantly trying to break into your mind.

He was one of few who knew you were knowledgeable and strong in a small few of the Force’s ways. You weren’t exactly fit to be a Jedi, but you had incredible control over your mind and others’, and Anakin was determined to best you.

Between his undivided attention and that of countless people among your home planet and the rest of the Republic, you were amazed you had yet to go completely mad.

You were used to holding your composure well, inside & out, but that didn’t mean you were unaffected by it all, despite how hard you tried to be. All you wanted was to try to use this time as a few moments of solitary peace among the chaos. But your assigned protector was just too diligent.

It didn’t help that your guard had fallen weak when the two of you were re-introduced for this assignment. Anakin got into your head once, & he held on tightly to what he witnessed.

He was awaiting your arrival when you saw him, for the first time in 10 years, standing at the entrance of the ship where he & Obi-Wan would accompany you to Naboo to stow away. You nearly lost awareness of your surroundings as you approached him.

He was extraordinarily stunning. It was entirely unexpected- a dramatic contrast of the boy you once knew. A brand new man. A Jedi, at that. You wanted to stop looking at him, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, everything else blurred into nothing.

Anakin could just faintly sense your shock & interest. It normally came of no surprise to him that he was visually admired, but you… intimidated him, some way, some how- weakened him. He dreamt of your face every night for the last decade, saw you just as real and beautiful as you stood before him now, but this was no dream. He was thrilled he’d earned your eye.

“Hello, your Highness. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Anakin spoke, his voice gracing your ears and sending a warm glow shining and spreading in your chest and your cheeks. You nodded with a smile to greet him back.

You shared a gaze that felt deep and intense, falling into each other’s eyes and gently mingling with each other’s spirits. Seconds began to feel like hours.

Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped as you stood before the young man. You kept a plain face, mouth gently pursed in a polite smile, but your eyes were glued to him. The words he and Obi-Wan exchanged in the short moments before boarding fell on deaf ears.

He took your hand to help you onto the ship, his much larger fingers delicately closing over yours, placing his other on the small of your back as he supported you. The sweet and intimate contact electrified you, sent your body sparking and ablaze. You were too overcome from it all to block him out of your mind, and he forced his way in.

His dreamy eyes, his plump lips, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you, like his very existence was for the sake of swooning you, swirling & flashing & unrelenting in your head. You imagined what his lips felt like on yours and over your skin, his hands touching you tenderly and manhandling you, the weight of his body over yours.

Anakin saw your mind swimming and glittering with him, and it took all the strength he had to stop himself from pulling you in his arms and catching your lips right then. He couldn’t stop the sly smile that came across his mouth and deepened at your subsequent focus on it.

“If you need me to help clear your mind,” Anakin started in a teasing tone, “Just ask.” Suddenly it wasn’t so hard to tear your eyes from him. You blushed for the rest of night.

Since then, in the weeks that followed, he spent nearly every waking moment trying to break his way back into your head. He needed to know why you wouldn’t give in to him, if you still thought of him, if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. It gave him just enough hope to be relentless.

And it gave you just enough embarrassment to never let it happen again. He was a Jedi, after all, and an important one. The entire galaxy would suffer if he were to be expelled. It wasn’t worth risking.

You didn’t know how any person could be so persistent for so long. Surely it must have been as tiring for him to be blocked countless times as it was for you to block him. It was like a pressure in your head, a twitch in your ear, urging you to crack. And you had to snap it back in place a hundred times a day.

That was just fighting Anakin’s use of the Force. You had to grapple with yourself as well, pushing away your ache to have him close. It helped that he was truly getting under your skin with his constant probing.

To make matters worse, just days after you reached Naboo, Obi-Wan was called back to Coruscant for a separate mission, rarely returning, leaving you alone with Anakin for days at a time. All there was for you to do was face how beautiful he was, how badly he wanted to get inside your head, and how much it all bothered you. Every day.

You needed a break, as much distance between you and Anakin as you could safely manage. Desperately.

By the fourth week you knew the planet much better. Your body was accustomed to the weather and the rise and fall of the Sun. You learned that Anakin liked to sleep in when Obi-Wan wasn’t around, but he wasn’t always a heavy sleeper. You devised something of a plan.

You woke up at dawn the next morning, moving quietly about the hut. You were careful to grab a weapon in case you should need it, and a small snack. By the grace of the Maker, you managed to make it out without waking Anakin. You would head down to the river at the bottom of the valley, only a 15 minute walk.

You listened carefully for footsteps around you as you went, watched carefully for any unfamiliar movement. You had been feeling safe, Obi-Wan assuring there’d been no talk of where you might be, but it was your first time out alone.

Somewhere along the way you realized you were just as nervous that Anakin would be following you, constantly looking back behind you, expecting to see him more than anything come to assassinate you.

But there was never anything, at least that you could sense. Sometimes a peculiar little animal, a fluttering insect, a tweeting bird, but no person. You began to relax quickly. Naboo served you a feast of fine alone time in minutes.

The sun was rising as the terrain under your feet transitioned from grass to sand. You took one last long look toward the field and forest behind you before deciding that if you didn’t feel him, he must not have been there.

You turned back toward the river. The sound of the waves, the smell of the silt and the water, the pink orange sky delighted your senses and you felt excitement flood your veins.

You slipped off your shoes and dug your feet into the sand, dragging them out into the water. You splashed & giggled in celebration of finally getting a wonderful moment alone.

You resisted the urge to get the rest of the way in and sat in the sand. Already the time alone you had from the moment you woke up and got along your journey was a breath of fresh air. You tried to enjoy it while it lasted. You’d have to go back before Anakin would wake if you wanted to continue doing this.

The trouble was, after you had enough time to absorb and sink into the scenery, your thoughts naturally drifted to him.

You laid against the sand and closed your eyes. You saw the first time you visited the river, watching him splash his face with water, fitting into the beauty of the valley perfectly.

You did wish things could be different, that you could give in to Anakin and stay here on Naboo, but you each had commitments to people in the galaxy.

Just like a puppy, it wasn’t long before you heard his footsteps following your path and his paws scratching at the door to your mind once again. Thankfully you’d become even quicker on your feet. You smiled to yourself, it was nearly getting funny to deny him.

“Aren’t you tired of that? It’s been nearly a month.” You called out to him as he came closer to you.

“Aren’t you?” Anakin teased, standing above you where you lay.

He was breathtaking from this angle, towering over you. Your eyes locked, and it felt like that first moment by the ship all over again. Everything else faded but him. The planet stopped turning, a warmth spread throughout your body, and you couldn’t look away. After all this time and pestering, you did still, truly want him.

His own breath actually faltered at the sight of you below him. He wanted more than anything just to have you, pull you close enough to feel your breath, your pulse, your lips, your smooth hands on his skin.

You were so beautiful. Hair against the sand, face sweet, radiating with a soft joy. Your arms stretched above your head, elongating your figure, your hands tangled in the grass. He imagined them tangled in his hair, and you smiled as his cheeks turned pink.

You were more than a Queen to him. A goddess. Always perfectly poised, even when you weren’t. Everything you did pleased him. He wanted more.

You were becoming aware of just how deeply you affected him.

“Well, you caught me. You can drag me back now, ruin all my fun.” You joked, holding your hands up and together as though you were waiting for cuffs.

He smiled and shook his head at your antics. If only he could catch you already. You were getter better at blocking him out of your head each day.

He laid on his side next to you in the sand. A little too close for your liking, his arm brushing against your hair.

“I don’t ruin all your fun. I’m just keeping you safe.” He spoke. “It is my job, after all. You really should be with me at all times.” His eyes were always sickeningly sincere, always wearing that stupid slick grin.

“After all this time, you don’t crave a moment alone?” You laughed, looking at him in amazement.

“Why would I? Your company is too sweet. And I believe in fulfilling my duties thoroughly.” He teased, relishing in your laughter.

“Oh, is that so?” You rolled your eyes as you giggled, sitting up and beginning to dust and shake the sand off of you. “And how long did it take you to realize I was gone, oh great protector?”

“I felt you leave.” He admitted in that smooth voice of his, and you turned to look back at him as his tone turned more serious. “I gave you as much time as I could stand.”

You wished you could say the needy look on his face didn’t make your heart ache. But you wouldn’t let him notice. You stood up, slipped your shoes back on and began collecting your things.

“When is Obi-Wan due back? Have you heard from him?”

“No message.” He said, still watching you with that needy look in his eye. Why couldn’t he have you already?

“Aren’t you coming?” You asked when you noticed he never stood up.

“Give me a hand?” He asked, reaching out toward you.

You reached out to grab his hand and help him up. You should’ve known better.

“Anakin!” you gasped as you were pulled down, his arms trapping you against his chest. You held back your laughter, but you couldn’t keep down your smile.

He turned you both over so he was above you, gently pinning your arms down, not enough to hurt, just enough so that you couldn’t move. He would never hurt you. He just wanted to look at you for a bit longer.

Seconds became hours once again as you got lost in each other.

You tried to steady your breathing after all the sudden movement, but it was no use. Not when he was holding you down and looking at you like he worshipped you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breath fanning over you, his lips dangerously close, they called to you.

You imagined caressing his face with your fingertips, brushing your thumb on his lip, how smooth and plump he’d feel under your gentle hand. You could feel your fingers pulsing at the thought. His eyes closed like he could feel your touch.

You wanted to feel his lips and his breath all over, trailing down and over every inch of your body and drowning you. To see those eyes looking up at you while his tongue pleasured you between your thighs…

Anakin could feel the intensity dripping off you. He was so close to breaking you, he knew it. He just had to get inside you.

You were starting to get too hot. Touching you, pressing up close to you, it was all too much. You had to get him off of you.

“Anakin,” you mumbled, turning your head away from him, resuming time. His eyes opened and he almost looked pained in your peripheral.

He lifted away from you and helped you to your feet.

“I know you want me.” He said boldly, and you nearly reacted.

“Enough.” You said calmly, shaking your head.

“You won’t let me see.”

“You won’t let me be.” You mumbled, beginning the journey back.

“I know you want me.” He repeated. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. It isn’t fair.” He followed behind you, his tone characteristically sour and whiny.

You normally only heard him speak in such a way about the Jedi Council. You wouldn’t entertain it pertaining to you. Maybe he didn’t understand why the Council ruled the way it did, but he knew very well why you couldn’t indulge him.

When he realized you wouldn’t respond, he began again. “There’s no use in fighting it any longer. I’ll get to you eventually.”

You sighed, and laughed lightly. He was nothing if not determined. “In your dreams, Skywalker.”

He stopped in his tracks. How had he not thought of that before?

The rest of the day went by remarkably easily, and quietly. Anakin didn’t bother you at all. For a good portion of the morning you didn’t notice, but after you flashed through your knitting without a single word or a push of the Force toward you, you were almost worried that something had happened to him.

You went to refresh your tea and check on him, and found him on the main room, surfing his datapad, not busy at all.

You took your time preparing your drink, waiting for him to come up beside you, give a slick comment, jiggle the knob of the door to your mind, but he did nothing. He ignored you.

You returned to your room even more confused than before. Was he really that angry that you’d gone off earlier without him? Maybe he’d finally grown tired of pining after you so hopelessly. Or maybe something had gone wrong back on Coruscant, or your home planet. Maybe something was wrong here. It pained you not knowing.

And you’d be damned if you’d be vulnerable enough to ask him why he wasn’t talking to you.

You went to sleep that night still wondering about it. He hardly said a word to you all day long. It couldn’t have been to urgent if he didn’t tell you anything, but that almost seemed worse- that would mean it was personal.

You thought it would be a relief not to be bothered by him, but it was much worse without him. You hated to admit it, but you missed him, a profound yearning, deep in your chest and abdomen.

Your bed felt colder & lonelier tonight.

You closed your eyes and you saw him at the river that morning, holding you close below him, his eyes watching you with the need you felt now. It seared through you, straight to your core. Maker, wanted to feel him next to you.

As you fell into your sleep you could feel yourself there, feel him leaning down, peppering gentle kisses into your neck. His hips pressing and rocking against you in time with the waves on the rocks. You dreamed of wrapping your legs around him, feeling him hardening against your core.

Your legs clenched together and you let out a sigh in your sleep. Your hands gripped the sheets as you dreamt of balling your hands up under his hold on you, you breathed out his name as you dreamt of pleading to touch him. Your longing after a day without Anakin made you weak, needy, desperate.

He had expected it. He had executed it, actually. Anakin wanted to make you feel how he felt, every night for the past 10 years. It nearly killed him in the process, abstaining from you for the day, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

You were weak now, and he could finally feel how badly you wanted him.

Anakin heard is name fall past your lips as though it were amplified in his ear, echoing and rippling through his body.

He could feel the heat pooling between your thighs, pulling at him, making his heart thump. He could feel the waves of thirst coursing through you, he knew you must have been dripping, and his mouth dried up without you on his tongue. He felt so dangerously dehydrated.

He wanted you to come to him, to wake from your sleep throbbing with need as he had so many nights before, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer. His cock was painfully hard already, his sheets were torture compared to the certain relief of your warm pillowy insides.

He didn’t care about the Jedi Code, he needed you. And now he knew for certain that you needed him, he had an unrelenting compulsion to fulfill you.

You didn’t hear Anakin enter your room, but you felt his eyes on you, felt the arousal dripping off him and filling the air. Your eyes opened slowly to see him standing beside your bed, looking down at you with dark eyes.

You felt chills as you looked at him. His chest was bare and heaving, his cock prominent in his pants, grown even more stiff at the sight of you.

“Anakin-” you started timidly, but the feeling of his hand grazing up your arm and resting on the back of your neck cut you off.

“Do you want me?” He asked lowly, his thumb brushing you gently. His voice made you quiver. He knew very well that you did. You had a lot of will power, but not enough to resist him before you like this. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you whispered. You hated to be so yielding, but you couldn’t fight it any longer. You knew he must’ve seen your dream. “Please, Anakin.” You reached out with staggered breathing, resting your hand on the tight, hot skin above his pants.

He didn’t say a word, just looked at you. You were exhausted of his depriving you, especially when it was clear that he wanted you badly.

Your hand dipped below his waistline, grasping him over his pants and shuddering at the feel of his hardness. You wanted a reaction out of him, but it seemed to have affected you more. You outright whimpered as you gripped him. Your mouth watered, your cunt felt offensively empty, something overcame you.

You sat upright eagerly, eyes drunk with lust and slickness sticking to your thighs, delighted to finally touch him.

His breath went from heavy to shaky, fighting to keep his composure. He grew thirstier by the millisecond, eager to see what you’d do, so desperate to be pleasured by you, to see you in your entirety.

You pushed his pants off his hips and moaned as he sprung free, thick & throbbing & leaking. His dick was just as stunning as the rest of him.

Already he was under your thumb again, your clothed body making him feel extra bare. The trance you were in as you looked at him sent shocks through his body.

His hand tangled in your hair, squeezing gently to get your attention. Your eyes met his and you could see he was just as weak & desperate as you were.

He nearly came on the spot when you looked up at him, legs clenched together, surely preserving a dripping nirvana under your nightgown.

He’d had enough.

Anakin brought your lips to his and kissed you passionately. It just spurred you on more. You whined into his mouth. His plump lips against yours made your head spin and your cunt call out for him.

Your hand that wasn’t in his hair finally drifted toward his cock, wrapping a tender hand around it and spreading the precum over his tip. He felt so hard, it lit you on fire. Anakin groaned into your mouth, the hand on the back of your neck tightened.

Your hand on him was bliss, just as soft and skilled as he imagined, but he had to stop it. He was sensitive to the new and heavily anticipated feeling, and he wanted to last long enough to get inside you.

He tore your hand away in a harsh grip and pulled away from the kiss. You opened your mouth to protest but then his lips were on your neck and all you could do was sigh.

“I need to see you,” He said into your neck, and you thought you may melt into a puddle.

He began to push up your nightgown, fingers brushing up your thighs, squeezing into you to feel your every curve. Suddenly he was kissing and squeezing you more roughly, getting more worked up at the feel of your naked body and the idea of finally seeing you bare.

Anakin pulled away from your neck to strip the dress over your head. His face was so pink and flustered as he drank you in, you thought he’d faint.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his hands coming up to rest on your waist, then sliding up to cup your breasts, gently squeezing your nipple, making you gasp.

“Maker, you’re so beautiful,” He repeated, bringing his lips back to yours before moving back to your neck, and further down your body. Your whole body buzzed and sparked in the path of his kisses, electricity hyperfocused where you needed him most.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, level with your core, and your hands tangled in his hair to keep you upright. He went into that deep, intimidating focus he often did, his eyes glazed over as he spread your thighs with his thumbs. He moaned at how you glistened.

His arms came around your back to hold you up as his tongue finally pressed against your clit and made you gasp. He pushed his tongue between your folds and licked you up, sucking your clit into his mouth as he reached the top.

Anakin’s tongue entered you and circled you and sucked you so well your head was swimming. You couldn’t stop the sounds that fell from your mouth, gasping and whining wantonly.

He would tease you with the tip of his tongue, then press it wide and flat and wet against you, careful to please and light every nerve.

Your legs grew weak and he lowered you on your back gently, his mouth never leaving you. He ate you like a man starved, diligent as ever.

One of his hands returned to your breast, and the other came up to your cunt and made you clench around his tongue in anticipation.

He gently pressed his finger into your wet hole and moaned at how the softness enveloped him, his cock twitching in the air. He focused his tongue on your clit while he fucked his finger into you, and you thought you might explode.

“Ah, Anakin,” you gasped, tensing around his finger. His mouth left you and you whined.

He kissed your thigh, adding a second finger to distract you from the loss of his mouth and stretch you out. His cock yearned for you as he watched his fingers disappear inside you, your face contorted in the pleasure he had given you.

“You’re so perfect,” He spoke, nearly overwhelmed at finally having all of you. He cursed and groaned your name and you groaned in return. He leaned over you and you could feel his erection on your thigh, making you gush around his fingers. Your hips ground against his hand, chasing your nearing orgasm.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He whispered into your neck, shuddering as your eager whines filled his ear. He pulled his fingers out of you and gripped your thigh, throbbing at the sound of your sobs, knowing he’d make you feel better soon.

“Please, Anakin,” You whimpered, digging your nails into his back. Your whole body throbbed so violently it scared you. Your legs wrapped around him and pulled him close and tight, begging him in any way you could.

He entered you swiftly, your slick hole opened up for him easily, but his thickness still gave you a thrilling stretch. You both moaned, gripping each other tightly as you finally felt sweet relief. He already felt himself ready to burst as he settled into you, breathing deeply to control himself.

Anakin filled you to the brim and you couldn’t help but quiver around him. His mouth and his fingers had worked you up so well that you wouldn’t need much more to tip you over the edge.

“Oh, Ani,” You sighed, trying to catch your breath, “You feel so good already.” He moaned at that.

“Please move.” You begged, desperate to feel more of him.

Anakin was still dangerously sensitive, but he couldn’t deny you. His hands gripped the sheets and your thigh in a white-knuckled grip as he began to move.

He slid out and then back in to you so slowly you felt every inch and couldn’t hold back your whimpers, your stomach twisting into a tight knot and your cunt fluttering.

He did this again, and again, fucking you just right; slowly, deeply, passionately, forcefully, burying himself inside you to the hilt and dragging his hips into yours, as if he were molding your walls to fit him perfectly.

His moans became just as free as your own, filling your ear with gasps and grunts that made your whole body tense and inch closer and closer to cumming around him.

Your pussy gushed loudly with his leisurely pace. Everything was intensified, hot sweaty skin fusing together, sounds in sync, spirits beaming.

Anakin teetered right on the brink, the way your pussy swallowed him made his cock jump wildly inside you, but he needed to make you cum first.

“Cum for me,” He groaned into your ear, angling his hips so that he ground into your clit with every harsh roll of his hips, making you cry out.

“Please, I need you to cum for me, please,” He started to whine, chanting and pleading, his thrusts picking up pace and getting sloppier and harder.

His begging & the feeling of his cock hitting you in just the right, sweet, punishing, way made you snap.

“Ah, Ani- I’m cumming!” You shrieked, clinging to him with your arms around his neck and your legs squeezing around him as your orgasm hit you, flashing white hot, sending euphoric surges through your entire body.

The second he felt you flutter around him Anakin plugged himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering & grinding into yours, filling you so deep with his cock and his cum that your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your cries and replacing them with his own soft praises.

You felt him twitching and leaking as your walls clenched around him, seeing stars as he gave you shallow thrusts to work you through it. You could feel yourself extra slick as he fucked his cum into you, making you shiver.

You heaved and sighed as you came down from your high, pleasure dissipating and quickly being replaced with a lazy, giddy feeling. A grin came over your face and you turned your head to see him watching you, as always.

“Oh, Anakin,” you breathed, a hand coming up to cup his cheek as you looked at him with delight. For the first time in his life Anakin was speechless, the Force inside him multitudes lighter than before, basking in the happiness of having you at last.

You pressed your lips against his and kissed him sweetly, now full of love instead of lust, just as his eyes were when you pulled away to look at him.

Anakin pulled out of you and shifted just slightly to lay directly next you, his skin still connected to yours at many points. Now that he had you, he’d never let you go.

You were just as captivating as ever, lazing in your post-orgasmic glow, now able to embrace how happy you were to see him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Tell me you’ll have me again.” He said, knowing very well that you would, just wanting to hear you say it. In your comfortably vulnerable states, you could sense he wanted to hear more.

You kissed him gently once again, just shortly. “I love you, Anakin.” You said against his lips, with a smile. “I’d have you anytime.”

#anakin skywalker x reader #x reader smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x you smut #star wars x reader #hayden christensen x reader smut

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Note

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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an-idyllic-novelist · 2 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now.

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole!

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell.

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around.

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk.

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help.

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon.

He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence.

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one.

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for.

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past.

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge.

You told him about the Great War and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here.

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live.

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel.

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family.

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G.

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day.

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay!

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie.

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out.

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past.

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you.

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him!

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work.

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter.

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do!

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll.

And by God you did.

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day.

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect.

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining.

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets.

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together.

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good.

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.”

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!”

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red?

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you.

“Care to dance?”

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #an idyllic novelist #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader #fem!reader #viviziepop #lucifer morningstar #valentines day #happy valentine's day

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doublebladedbitch · 1 month

Text

10 Reasons why I think tech is alive and well…and evil

1. The looks

Besides the similar front part of their helmets, their stances and movements show a resemblance.

2. Fight movements

Right when I saw this scene it felt familiar to me and then I remembered this very moment of season one. It’s the same attack…

If Tech was forced through the clone x/assassin program, he would’ve been robbed of most of his individuality, like fighting with two blasters for example, while clone x was shown fighting with all obvious choices of weapons of his 99 brothers : sniper rifle, knife and hand to hand combat. They also could’ve shown him with a usual blaster…

3. Relying on Technology

There were multiple moments where clone x checked on his arm data pad, even after it was broken after the building collapsed and his reinforcements had already arrived.

4. Voice / Noises

Sounds familiar? Tech is the only clone that has a visible British accent and there were definitely hints of that in clone x voice. Also the voice modulator seemed to be a little stronger than with the other clone assassins we’ve seen before, I wonder why…

And when you compare the grunts, they literally sound the same!

5. The height change

A few days into the third season of tbb Star Wars officially changed the height for tech and we all wondered why…. my theory is that they did that because tech's legs got injured after the fall and when the empire put him into the shadow assassin program his height went down to his new height.

Changed the height from 6’4 to 5’10

6. “But crosshair would know if it was tech”

Probably, but would he tell them? It took him a good while to tell anyone about the information he has gained in his imprisonment..he is still hiding things and if he knows I believe he doesn't want them to know, fearing they would try to get him back and he has realised that there is no chance to do so...the program these clones go through is so much stronger than what the inhibitor chip was.

Also this scene hits a lot different, if it's actually techimplicating this could be a reference to crosshair choosing to stay with the empire instead of the batch at the end of s1

There is also a scene in tantiss where he looks back at clone x...

7. THE PARALLELS

There were multiple parallels to significant moments and situations that

Tech went through.

- THE FALL sry to remind yall of plan 99, but clone x fell in that tower after crosshair shot his explosive and also in the waterfall fight.

- LIMPING after clone x got injured when the base collapsed, it was like the scenes in season 2 after a crate fell onto techs leg. Also important quote from this episode " I'm a survivor. Remember?"

8. This exact shot

the similarity of these specific shots is undeniable. And both when they come out of the water? Like?!

9. He’s too pretty to die

No but for real, storytelling wise IT HAS TO BE someone important.my other guesses are Cody, another 99 clone or (brace yourself) a clone of crosshair, like an evil twin

10. Maybe I just miss him

#bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb #sw tbb #tech #technology #bad batch season 3 #bad batch tech #tbb tech #tbb theory

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wwinterwitch · 1 year

Text

new vows – din djarin x gn!reader

summary: the first time din ever removed his helmet in front of you

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 2.5k

warnings and tags: fluff and angst + good ending, insecure!din, established relationship, kissing, the helmet's removed, doesn't follow the plot of the show at all (it's just din, reader and grogu being a happy family)

author's note: oof i hate how this turned out but my best friend read it and told me to post it so here we are, i hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

navigation | pedro's characters masterlist | star wars masterlist

Din was observing you and Grogu from the entrance of the Razor Crest, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against one of the walls of the ship. He smiles to himself when he hears the child giggling after you put a flower at the top of his little head, immediately reaching out with some difficulty to grab a flower from the ground and offering it to you.

"Thank you, Grogu. It's very pretty!" you say to the baby, who looked absolutely thrilled to realize you liked his gift.

The kid stands from the ground, lifting both of his arms as a sign that he wants to be carried. Already familiar with the gesture, you quickly lift him up from the ground before laying on your back in the middle of the landscape filled with lilac and light pink flowers. The baby giggles again, holding onto you as you both lay there.

Din's smile fades just enough shortly after that when the inevitable thought pops in his head again. That annoying and sudden thought that always makes an appearance during the day.

At first he didn't mind, finding ways to always push it away before it got to him. However, it's been more and more frequent these past couple of days and it's becoming a bad habit he seems unable to control at this point, and it's starting to really annoy him.

His mind is filled with all these doubts and insecurities. Not only because of the content of what he's thinking, but because it's completely impossible to push it away now. Almost like an avalanche, it falls down the mountain at a rapid, devastating speed and it only seems to get bigger as minutes pass. It destroys everything in its way. In this case, the prime and only victim is Din.

Perhaps the worst part is that it always ruins what should be pleasant moments. If Grogu is looking up at him from the ground begging to be carried, the thought is there. Whenever you wrap your arms around him or grab his hand when the two of you are exploring yet a new planet, it's there. Even when he's trying to sleep right next to you, hearing the faint sounds of the baby already asleep, you can bet that thought will be there to torture him.

Because all of those little moments he shares with his partner and son remind him of the fact that neither of them even know who he is. Sure, they know how he is, but not who.

Every touch is not really a touch, it's just skin brushing against a uniform. Every exchange has a helmet hiding his features. They can hear him laugh, but they don't see his eyes squinting just enough and the smile that adorns his face. They can hear him remind them of his never-ending love for them, but they don't get to look into his eyes as he says it.

And it hurts because his mind has tricked him to believe none of those moments are real. Because they've never seen the man that claims to care for them so much, none of it is genuine. It's just touching a uniform and hearing empty words coming from a helmet. It almost makes him feel like a droid rather than a human, leaving him longing for that real connection.

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he craves that actual contact, which is something he never felt before you two showed up in his life.

Being a Mandalorian and living by their code was easy. He never even considered breaking his vow because nothing and no one was ever worth it. What could possibly be more important than this? That's what he would always ask himself and he wasn't able to come up with an answer– until you and Grogu showed up.

Now that you two are here, it's obvious to him that his priorities have changed. He wants to commit to an entirely new code. To prove his undying fidelity to his family and make a vow to the two of you.

But that brings another set of insecurities that make this entire situation a lot more difficult for him. As much as he needs to truly feel connected to you, he's terrified of what that connection means. It's obvious that in order to obtain that, he needs to take off his uniform. Most precisely, his helmet– which is something he has never done in front of anyone. Ever.

So that's when his mind is yet again filled with negative thoughts. What if you don't like what's under the helmet? What if you already have a picture of him in your head and he disappoints you because he looks nothing like it? What if you suddenly don't love him anymore because he's not what you expected at all? And what if Grogu rejects him too? He couldn't deal with either of you not liking what has been hiding underneath all the Beskar.

That's the complicated mess that's been haunting him for a few weeks. That inner struggle he has tried to keep hidden from the two of you. Should the helmet stay on despite being an obstacle to reach the depths of connection he needs to have with his family, or should he remove it and risk rejection? Is it better to settle or search for more?

He feels pathetic. The supposedly fearless bounty hunter is terrified of even thinking about taking a risk. Going on adventures used to be a lifestyle. Now, the mere idea of it is enough to fill his mind with self-doubt, making it almost impossible for him to make a decision.

He thought about it later that day when the three of you were already inside the Razor Crest and getting ready to go to bed, really considering his options and trying to create different outcomes to this hypothetical conversation that kept playing inside his head.

You were telling Grogu a bedtime story when Din joined the two of you. He sat on the bed and listened to you speak as he watched the baby, who was struggling to keep his eyes open at that point, holding onto the little blanket covering his body.

By the time the story was over, Grogu was already completely asleep. You carefully brushed his face with your pointer finger in an affectionate manner, smiling down at him before focusing on Din.

"Ready to go to bed?" you asked.

"You'll tell me a bedtime story too?"

The comment made you laugh. "I think you're a little old for bedtime stories."

"Ouch. I'm not old."

"I said a little old," you quickly correct, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. He quickly lifted a hand that was resting on your hip a few seconds later. "Not the same as just old."

You smile down at him as he gently caresses you from your hip all the way down your thigh before his gloved fingers trails back up. Your smile inevitably takes him to the dark corners of his mind again because he knows you won't be able to see him smiling back at you.

His next words came out very impulsively. "Can we talk?"

Evidently, you were a little concerned after hearing that given the tone he used. "Is there something wrong?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately...there's something that's been bothering me and it won't leave my head."

"Okay..." you said, trying to be receptive to what he was saying but still having no idea of what's going on.

"Neither of you know what I look like," he decides to simply confess. Why would he try to over explain something that is actually quite easy to say? "And I've never...you know, actually touched you," he adds, his helmet titling towards his hand still resting on your hip, hinting at the glove covering it.

"I mean, yes...but that's because you're a Mandalorian. It's what your people do, right?"

Din nods after your words. "It's part of our code, but...I don't know. It's been bothering me because lately this entire uniform feels like an obstacle. I still feel like it's a part of me but...it also stands in between us."

"I've told you how I feel about the suit," you quickly say in a soft, reassuring voice. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I know, I know. This isn't because of something you did or said," Din explains. "I guess my priorities have changed."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I care more about connecting with you than with my traditions. I've started to question things I never took a second to consider before you and Grogu showed up. I want to be able to touch you– really touch you. And I want to look at you and talk to you. Not through a visor and a modulator," he further explains, feeling like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a Mandalorian when I'm with you two. I just need to be Din."

"Oh, darling," you start affectionately, feeling so incredibly in love with the man sitting in front of you. "Whatever it is that you want and need, I'll support you no matter what. Helmet or no helmet, you're still the guy I fell in love with."

"Really?" he asks with evident worry.

"Of course," you immediately reassure him.

"I guess it took me too long to talk about this because...well, I didn't know if you'd like what's underneath the uniform."

"Din," you call in a very serious voice, hoping that'll hint just how much you mean your next words. "I love you so much. I love you because you're the kindest man I've ever met. You're loyal, passionate, brave...and you care so much about me and Grogu. I could stay here and mention a trillion things about you that make me fall in love with you every single day. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and nothing in this world is ever going to change what I feel."

He was quiet for what felt like forever, simply staring up at you while you held the helmet in between your hands so you could stare directly at his visor where his eyes should be.

"You can't see it but I'm smiling, by the way. This is a good silence," he offers, which immediately makes you laugh.

"Is it okay if I take it off and see that smile for myself?"

He hesitated before answering. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I promise I won't change my mind."

There was another pause before he finally answered. "Okay..."

You start to remove his helmet in a gentle, slow manner. If he wanted to stop you, he could at any second. You really didn't want to rush it because you still wanted to give him a chance to back down if he wanted to.

The fact that he wears the helmet all day in front of you has never been an issue. You fell in love with the person he is, whatever he looks like couldn't possibly matter any less to you. That love is not going anywhere. Ever.

It looks like Din is confident in his decision because he doesn't stop you at any point. He continues to keep one of his hands attached to your hip and the other rests on his lap for a few seconds until he uses it to help you completely remove his helmet.

Still holding it with both of your hands, you look down to admire his face. You can tell by his expression that he's terrified as he stares back at you, impatient for any hint of rejection. He was still expecting to see the disappointment all across your features before you take a step back from him and reveal he's nothing like what you expected.

But that disappointment never appeared. Instead, he's relieved to see the smile forming on your face before you leave the helmet next to him on the bed, immediately reaching out to grab his face.

Din practically melts under your touch, closing his eyes and focusing on just how good it feels to have your skin touching him for the very first time. The way your soft fingers trace his cheeks before they move down to his jaw...it feels like absolute heaven.

And you take your time with that. Your digits explote his features as if contemplating them wasn't enough. You needed to touch every inch of his face in order to truly appreciate what's in front of you.

The most beautiful sight ever. The man you love so much, looking even more handsome than you could've ever predicted. From his soft brown eyes to the hint of a beard, he's so perfect you can't believe you're seriously this lucky.

"So?" he dares to ask. Hearing his voice without the modulator for the very first time almost made you feel goosebumps all over your body. How is this man so pretty?

You could've just said that. You could've stood there and told him over and over how pretty he is, but it didn't feel like it was enough. No words would ever begin to explain the admiration you have for this man, even before you knew what he looked like.

After feeling his skin for the very first time, you could only crave more. It was probably that inefficiency of words and the need for more contact that made you lean down and kiss him for the very first time.

He kissed you back instantly, the grip on your hip tightening just enough as he completely gave in to you.

It was evident you were his first kiss, but that detail couldn't be any more insignificant right now. His lack of experience didn't bother you. All you could think about is how lucky and happy you are to have him as your partner.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before you pulled away, failing to hide your smile when you saw his face. It was evident he was already missing the way your lips feel against his.

You stare at him again for a bit, caressing his flushed cheeks, before you finally decide to speak. "Does that answer your question?" Din was still too lost in his thoughts to reply out loud, so he simply nodded. His reaction after your first kiss made you giggle, and you swore right there that you've never felt happier in your life. "Good. I'd like to kiss you again if that's okay."

Another nod, this time looking more desperate, was all you needed to kiss him again. You got more comfortable as you sat on his lap, knowing you'll be there kissing him for a bit, feeling his arms wrap around your lower back to keep you close as soon as you sat down.

And as he holds you in his arms, he knows he made the right choice, silently vowing to be yours for as long as you allow him to.

#din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin #the mandalorian x gn!reader #the mandalorian x reader #star wars x reader #mandalorian fic #pedro pascal characters

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moved-to-cyarinka · 1 year

Text

I just watched the latest episode three times in a row and I just. I need to talk about this.

More specifically, I need to talk about THIS moment:

…because this is some of the best autistic representation I’ve ever seen. I know, this is funky Star Wars animation how good can it be, but just bear with me for a minute.

When Omega asks Tech why he doesn’t act like they’re a family, he’s taken aback—he physically recoils. And then, instead of the simple, clumsy answer I expected, the writers did something I have NEVER seen before, not in a show or a movie or a game or ANYTHING.

They show him struggling to find the words. And they let him take his time to do it, because that’s what he needs.

You can see how hard he’s thinking about what to say to her. Finding the right thing to say doesn’t come easily when there isn’t technically a right answer. You can’t calculate the perfect response to a question like Omega’s, but you can try. He IS trying.

I have done this before. It sometimes takes genuine effort to phrase things the right way to not offend people, to force my tone to be acceptable, to communicate in a way that just doesn’t come naturally. I’ll sit in my therapist’s office for 3 minutes turning over a question in my head, trying out the answers until I have one that feels and sounds right. I have never seen anything like this before.

And then Tech hangs his head. It’s the weary acceptance that he’s different, and people don’t understand him, and he’s inadvertently hurt someone he cares about because he just. Doesn’t. Express himself the same way she does. But he doesn’t blame her for not understanding. When he sighs, you can tell he’s frustrated at himself.

I have felt this before. I have never felt so understood by a piece of media in my entire goddamn life.

All of this to say: I’m genuinely blown away by the nuanced understanding behind this scene. I never wanna hear that Tech is a negative stereotype of an autistic genius again—just because his autism isn’t some groundbreaking new uwu flavor doesn’t mean it’s not REAL. Ty for listening to my ramble if you got this far :))

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tbb omega #clone force 99 #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb season 2 spoilers #the bad batch season 2 spoilers #the bad batch season 2 #cyarinka.txt #analysis

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zmb1eslut · 3 months

Text

I missed you.

Masterlist

ex-boyfriend!Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!reader

summary: Reader doesn't know how to say no to Luke, so she runs away every time he tries to win her over.

warnings: soft makeout, smoking, reader goes non-verbal when nervous (but she pulls it off), I don't usually write narrative (I'm a casual poetry writer).

word count: 1,091

clarification: as a daughter of Aphrodite, people develop attraction towards reader after long eye-contact exposure, so she usually avoids it altogether.

>>>──────────────────────────<<<

You thought it couldn't be true, the way his eyes still traced your every step that night. Like if a soft blow of unspoken whispers followed you like a shadow into the dancing ground. He was there. He was everywhere, pulling you from behind to clash just once more into his longing brown eyes.

You thought it couldn't be true.

Maybe your hopes were just blending into the air of that groaning old forest.

You sat down, as the last stars in the sky arrived fashionably late to the Aphrodite's secret reunion. A little self-conscious, you took your rolling paper out, losing yourself to the familiarity of your actions. You took your first blow, and while watching the smoke, at some point came the fifth. And then it became real, you didn't even bother to check, he was there. He was coming.

As if it was that easy, just like that, you felt his presence land by your side.

"Mind if I grab one?" he asked.

As he pretended not to be on the team that snuck that shit in in the first place, you pretended not to know he had already quit smoking 8 months ago. Every word was hard to say, you wouldn't waste any into empty accusations. As always, you let him have his way.

You broke the imaginary bounds that kept you from each other when your hand crossed the line with a lighter. He instead reached for your elbow, and his hands slowly moved up to your wrist, while he accomplished to move your hand away from both of you so it wouldn't be in between you two. He was silently begging for your eyes to simply look in his direction once more, you still tried to know better.

Your gaze fixed on his chest, the least dangerous place they could find that acknowledged his presence. He took the lighter, but your hand stayed there, hanging frozen. He blew the smoke on your face aiming at a reaction, and it felt like everyone disappeared behind the intimacy of the gas. But... you wouldn't be dragged into his world again. You stood up, and went away.

Every step was heavy. Once a lighthearted deared girl, and now a mess full questions and rage.

You've been treated like a temptress and like a whore, but it didn't quite prepared you to be treated like a princess who would never ascend to the throne. Left alone in a castle full of people, without love. He was always in battle, your knight in shining armor, who just breathed and crawled for a cause much grater than your sorrow. You guessed. He'd never tell. You never knew.

"How are the nightmares? " you dared, when your paths crossed again near the lake.

"Aw... You worried, angel? " was the safer answer, 'cause deflection was effective. You were always scared of being pushy, and had always been moved for a guy being scared. The breeze was chanting for you, while the silence simply dared you. You knew the dance. Your hands didn't wonder from his soft curls into his back, it was more proper to say that they knew the pathway back to back. Like if the traces of your fingers were already carved on his skin, just like another scar from battle, cause not to hold you felt like a war. And you surrender. just. once. more.

His head rests on your chest, and his sneaky hands have never feared but you feel them doubting, if traveling down your waist was way too gambly. And he dared. And you sunk.

"Don't look at me like that, Castellan" was everything you could think of. You were still resilient to bless him with your stare. But he felt powerful once again, and he was now sitting straight, gazing down at your glowing skin. And he dared. He slowly approached, and your posture played around, playing dumb. You tried not to laugh when he huffed.

It felt safe on his arms. It always did. And you knew inside, he knew where you were. In front of that lake, at a party like this one, he sat you on his lap in front of everyone, with your hand in his and kissed it every time he made you laugh. And when that night ended, it was just the start.

You left a hopeful sigh, and he caressed your side in response. You felt him again, closing the distance. You hide your face behind your hand as you decided to pull your hair behind your ear. He looks away, exasperated at your antics. Those were the reactions you liked.

Only him would make you this naive, but he was starting to doubt himself. He took his free hand to entrap you by each side, and looking at your lips, he shamelessly whispered —Can I kiss you? —and you knew you weren't playing anymore, and you realized that you truly wouldn't ever say no. That's why you always ran away. Your eyes looked up and lazed with the darkness of his pupils. Before you tangled on a desperate mess of brushes and silent pleadings. To your agony, his hand moved from touching your sensitive needs into a dominant hold from under your thigh. Your hands held into his collar and bicep. He pulled away and melted you with a smirk, got next to your ear and in a lower voice said "You are so irritating." You felt your legs go jelly as he chuckled. He kissed you again, you let it happen. You would let the moment swallow you whole, again into the warmth of his embrace. But you felt voices coming and you quickly went away.

Went away into the woods, your intentions becoming clearer and more humiliating with every lazy step you took. You heard hisnsteps as you knew you would. He found his way back to you. You looked up at him as your back pressed against a tree. And you never felt as excitingly frail before hearing his voice.

"Tell me, did you missed me?"

"I missed you, Luke."

He seemed satisfied, and pressed his body into yours. You could feel the way his shirt smelled like firewood, and his heartbeat raised for you. But all you could focus on was how needy made you feel the recognizable way his bulge pressed bravely against your crotch.

"Yeah... I missed you too."

>>>──────────────────────────<<<

#pjo series #pjo tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #im sorry if this is boring #my best

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 months

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Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers.

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge.

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him.

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full.

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear.

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking.

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

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niqhtlord01 · 3 months

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Humans are weird: Too stupid to be real

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

There once was a species known as the Ping that held control over several dozen star systems near the outer edges of the known universe.

Under their reign entire worlds were turned into nightmarish hellscapes the likes of which only the mad could dream of and only the dead escape from. The Ping feasted on suffering for nutrients in a process still not fully understood today despite several centuries of research, and so they tortured and mutilated all within their domain.

It took the combined efforts of half a dozen species to finally drive the Ping back to their original homeworld. Countless billions died in the struggle, and twice as many went mad from the horrific images and hallucinations; yet the death like grip of the Ping was broken.

When it came to decide the fate of the Ping there was a heated debate amongst the victors. Half felt that the Ping were too dangerous to be left free and needed to be exterminated, while the other half was hesitant to be swayed by such extreme measures as it would make them no better than those they had fought to overthrow. The debate raged on for several weeks after the final battle until the moderates emerged victorious.

A massive cryogenic vault was constructed on the Ping homeworld and every surviving member of the species was locked within. Inside their cryo tubes the Ping would serve out their sentences until such a time as the rest of the galaxy felt the Ping could be set free into the universe.

To ensure the vault was not breached several different layers of defenses were installed, each created by a different species to ensure that no one member species could enter into the vault unless each agreed. With the security features in place the Ping homeworld was vacated and orbital beacons were placed warning all who came within system that the planet was off limits.

Years turned into decades, decades to centuries, and then millennia passed without a single soul setting foot on the planet. The former victors of the war continued with their lives and managing their new found freedom amongst the stars without the threat of the Ping. Perhaps it was in this new found sense of freedom that they slowly began to forget about the Ping’s existence all together.

Had any of them given the Ping a thought for even a moment one of them could have warned Humanity to stay away; but none did.

When humanity began expanding into the stars they spread out in all directions like lightning in the sky. Their appetite for the new and wondrous universe around them was insatiable. For too long they had known only the confines of their own world and with the coming of space travel they finally saw their chance to explore the stars; which led them to stumbling upon the Ping homeworld.

Where other races would have seen the array of defenses and obstacles blocking the world and turned away, humanity saw a mystery in need of solving.

“A seemingly dead world protected by such wonders?” they thought. “What treasures are hidden here?”

So they dove head first with reckless abandon into the world, ignoring the numerous warning signals that were still being transmitted by the automated systems orbiting the planet in languages they could not understand.

The first expedition hadn’t made it through the first layer of outer atmosphere before colliding into energy barriers. Crengthi shields operated on wave lengths not detectible by human instruments and so the ships were damaged but still capable of space flight.

The second expedition was able to study the shielding and devised a jamming device that would open small holes within the shield to allow ships to pass through. They had just made it into the lower atmosphere when ground based Kentoc automated cannons targeted their vessels and obliterated them.

The third expedition was larger than the previous two by far as the military had seen the results of the ground based weaponry and wanted their scientists to reverse engineer them. A large military contingent was deployed alongside the science vessels and spear headed the landings on the surface.

Once more the Kentoc cannons roared into the heavens but the military ships were able to withstand the barrage. There were still losses and a few of the heavier landing craft were obliterated, but still many more troop carriers landed and dispersed their cargo of soldiers and scientists. It was here that they triggered the Julnu mind madness broadcaster.

Within minutes the humans who had survived to touch the surface of the Ping homeworld were driven mad by visions of such intense horror many gouged out their own eyes to make the nightmares stop. The military leaders still in orbit could only watch in horror as every human on the planet killed each other and then themselves until once more the planet lay silent.

And so it went on for decades on and off again.

Expedition after expedition would be sent to the Ping homeworld building atop the advances made by the previous until succumbing to the world themselves. Sometimes it was the military, other times private corporations, and then eventually even privateers and treasure hunter’s came drawn to the world by the ever growing legend.

The defenses of the world were extensive, but not infinite; and with each expedition they grew thinner and thinner until finally the humans had reached the cryo vault itself. It was here that the other surviving races of the universe who had once imprisoned the Ping received a final warning transmission that the vault was about to be breached.

Historical records were dusted off and it was with great horror that these races knew of what would be unleashed should they fail to keep the humans from the vault. Wars between them all but ceased as their military fleets were rerouted to the Ping homeworld.

When they arrived they were surprised to find there were no longer any humans on the world. In fact, there was not a single living human left in the entire system.

They quickly descended on the world and found that it had been stripped bare of all technology. Energy shields, automated weapons, broadcasting systems; anything of value had been taken by the humans in their relentless pursuit of the mysterious world was claimed as their prize.

Fearing the worst the races rushed deep into the confines of the world for the cryo vault , hoping beyond hope that the humans had not been so foolish as to unleash the most dangerous species the universe had ever known. Scorched and melted, they found the vault doors had been cut through and breached. With weapons drawn and at the ready they advanced into the vault but found something they had not expected.

Every single cryo pod was missing from the vault, but at the entrance of the vault casually tossed off to the side was a massive mound of dead Ping. Each body had a single hole in their forehead from what was most likely a close range human automatic weapon ensuring immediate death. While some of the races breathed a sigh of relief, others were outraged at the casual butchery carried out by the humans and sought answers.

A delegation was sent to the human homeworld to demand answers and answers they were given.

One of the pods had indeed been opened shortly after the vault had been breached and the humans interacted with the Ping for a brief time. It soon became quickly obvious that the Ping were a hostile race as they immediately attempted to kill all of the humans present and free either brethren.

After a two dozen killed soldiers and scientists it was finally brought down when an excavation bot rammed it through the chest and impaled it to the wall of the vault. It bled out screaming in its alien tongue for hours until finally it died.

The leader of the expedition was given instructions to bring back any usable technology, but nothing on what to do if encountering sentient life forms. It had been a general consensus that they had been dealing with the automated defenses of a long dead civilization so it had never been considered.

Taking into account the hostile nature of the Ping, the leader made a judgment call that they could not be safely released back into the universe. Upon the opening of each cryo pod the occupant was summarily executed before they could fully recover and tossed aside while the pod was removed from the chamber.

The gathered alien delegates were dumbfounded by the humans. They had breached one of the most secure locations in the known universe without fully understanding it and had slain the greatest evil of the universe held within, and had moved on to new endeavors as if what they had just done was as interesting as a casual walk in spring.

They worried what would happen the next time the humans became interested in something.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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