#i can see my jawline properly for the first time in years

[whitehairedanimeboyfriend]

you're just mad because I'm in my goth Twink era.

[ghost-reader07]

Title: His Butler

Minors do not interact!!!

Black insert but anyone can read 💜

This is also my first time doing smut in a long while so please be nice 😅

Warnings: DubCon

You were the personal butler of Illumi Zoldyck for many years. He was an odd master but the pay was good. You did your job well, never stepped out of line and never disobeyed an order. So...how did this happen?

Word Count: 5.4K

You were one of the personal butlers of the Zoldyck family. You were hired to help the eldest son of the family, Illumi. You were often overloaded with extra work. Or just pointless things that Illumi would never use. Honestly over the years you thought he made you do half of your ‘work load’ just to fuck with you.  

Today you were standing in Illumi’s room that doubled as his office, watching him work at the table. It was something related to assassination hits and orders again. You never really knew nor bothered to find out.  

“Come here” Ilumi said in an empty, monotone voice, startling you a little as he broke the loud silence. Without a word you walk over. As you approached the table, Illumi turned around so that he was facing you, his face seemed more relaxed than usual. It was hard to guess what he was thinking or wanted. His gaze remained fixated on you; it was obvious to your trained eye that he was analyzing you. He looked you up and down before speaking “Take off your glasses.”  

You were surprised by the order but didn’t show it. You took off your glasses anyways and placed them on your collar neatly. Illumi carefully observed your face as you took off the glasses. Although his eyes didn’t change, a slight look of slight interest became visible. After a moment, he stood up from the table. He now stood directly in front of you. 

“Come closer.” You take a few steps closer to the eldest young master, standing two steps in total away from him.  

Illumi Zoldyck, he was unpredictable, ruthless and a bit- no scratch that…. very sadistic. You had been in service to him since you were both young teenagers, and now you were both in your 20s. Illumi 24 and you 22. You’d like to think you knew the eldest young master as well as you could, seeing as you were with him almost every day. But sometimes, years later he still found ways to catch you off guard or surprise you.  

As you got closer, Illumi towered over you due to his tall height. He leaned closer to your face and his blank gaze remained on you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, it was always like that. He seemed to be analyzing your face, for what reason was unknown… 

His hand rose up to your face, gently tracing his thumb along your cheek, then down your jawline. He then grabbed your chin gently. You knew better than to react. You simply allowed Illumi to touch your face, trying your best to hide your confusion from showing in your eyes.  

You were good at keeping a calm, collected and neutral facial expression. But all those emotions you hid so well often shown through your eyes fairly easily. Illumi was quiet as he studied your face, his hand still holding your chin. He tilted your head so that it was facing upwards towards him, now he could look at your face in more detail, without the obstruction of your chin. He seemed… curious and interested. It was rare to see him show any expression other than cold emotionless one. 

Suddenly, he spoke. His voice was low and his eyes remained on your face. 

"You have an interesting face. I have never properly observed it from up close before."

“Thank you master Illumi. I will take that as a compliment” you say.  

You didn’t understand what Illumi meant. Sure, for years you were the only black employee until Canary came along but you had been around Illumi for the better portion of their lives. He had seen your face countless times, so you didn’t understand what he meant by interesting. Illumi studied your face for a little longer, just observing silently and seemingly lost in some kind of thoughts. He moved his hand from your chin to your face, now he cupped your cheeks gently, as he continued to hold your face in his hands. 

He was quiet for a few more seconds. Then, he suddenly said in a calm emotionless tone, as usual. 

"Open your mouth."

You were taken aback but once more simply obeyed, not showing your surprise. You open your mouth for him, your tongue placed neatly in your mouth as you look up at him, like you was at a dentist appointment. But you couldn’t stop yourself from silently wondering why he wanted you to open your mouth, did he want to see your teeth or something?  

Once you opened your mouth, Illumi now stared at it intently. The expression on his face was still the same. As he observed your mouth closely, he seemed more curious and intrigued than usual. He brought one of his long slender fingers to your mouth and gently placed it on your tongue, he slowly moved it over the surface, pressing the tip of his finger against your tongue. 

He was completely lost in his own thoughts and continued to study your mouth in silence while his finger still remained on your tongue. You couldn’t help but wonder if your young master was getting into weird experiments again. Why did he always have to make you his guinea pig. The manor had prisoners kept in the dungeon for that!  

As Illumi continued to observe your mouth intently, he started moving his finger on your tongue carefully, gently tracing the shape of it with the tip of his finger. His eyes stayed on your mouth, his expression still unchanged, but a hint of fascination was visible. As he moved his finger on your tongue, he said in an emotionless voice. 

“Keep your tongue still.”  

You did just that, it’s not like you moved your tongue while he touched it anyways. But you silently wished he’d hurry up; his fingers did not taste the best. As you kept your tongue still, Illumi continued to explore your mouth carefully. He seemed to be studying the shape of your tongue and the feel of it. His finger traced over different parts of your tongue, but he never pushed it down too hard. After a few more seconds like this, he finally removed his finger. 

Close your mouth. You were more than happy to do so. “Is that all, master Illumi?” You asks, hiding your annoyance from your face and tone, but it showed ever so slightly through your eyes. Illumi seemed to notice the hint of annoyance in your eyes despite your efforts to hide it. He observed you for a moment before answering, his expression shifting just a bit, like he found your attempt to hide your feelings amusing. 

After a few seconds, he spoke in an emotionless tone. 

“No. Open your mouth again. Wider this time.” 

You mentally grumble in your head but does as told, opening your mouth wider, allowing your tongue to fall out over your bottom lip slightly. As you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slightly out over your bottom lip, Illumi focused his gaze on your mouth again, studying it intently. His finger returned to your tongue, but this time he pushed it more forcefully, pressing down gently on it with his finger. 

He looked almost in some kind of fascination as he kept your tongue down with his finger and said in a monotone voice. 

“Lick my finger.” 

Okay now you were sure Illumi was fucking with you. 

Nevertheless, you do as told. You gently lick his finger, once more observing how his finger did not taste the greatest. As you licked his finger as instructed, Illumi observed your action carefully. A hint of interest flashed in his eyes, but his expression remained neutral. At that moment he continued to observe your tongue as it traced over his finger. Then, he suddenly said in a calm and emotionless tone. 

“Take my finger in more deeply.” 

You pause, you were taught better than to question your employers by the Head Butler Gotoh but you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth in time. “You want me to what?” You ask as you pull away, your neutral expression cracking as you give him a small look. A pointed one that seemed both confused and just a tiny bit disgusted.  

A small but amused look flashed across Illumi’s face as he saw your expression change. You had never disobeyed or questioned any of his orders before. He didn’t any anything in response at first, just continuing to hold press his finger against your tongue as he observed your face and looked at you expectingly.  

Eventually, he spoke in an emotionless monotone voice.  

 

“You heard me. Take my finger in deeper”.   

You take a deep breath through your nose and once more take Illumi’s finger in your mouth, but this time deeper, all the way down to the base of the finger. Your tongue was still out, your mouth still opened wide for him. All the while you could hear the small voice in the back of your head telling you to bite him for obviously fucking with you. But you didn’t, you valued your life over some petty revenge. Instead, you simply look up at him, waiting for whatever his next ridiculous order would be.  

Little did you know, when you took his finger all the way down to the base Illumi was looking at you with a mild sense of fascination. He discreetly studied the way your mouth was opened for him, how your tongue wrapped around his finger.  

As you look up at him Illumi remained silent for a few more seconds as he observed you, before speaking again his voice calm and emotionless as always.  

“Swallow”.  

You didn’t understand what he was getting at. Illumi had to you do plenty of weird things over the years. But this seemed like a new level of ‘what the fuck dude?’ 

But you still close your mouth around his finger and swallow, just like you were told.  As you did, Illumi couldn’t help but notice how warm your mouth felt, how wet it was as you swallowed around his finger. He feels a small shiver run up his spine but he gives no physical reaction, not even blinking, quickly masking any physical reaction as he always did when he was around you. He simply continued to observe you closely. He couldn’t help but focus on the warmth of your mouth, the wetness of your lips as you closed your mouth.  

Illumi keeps his composure but at the same time he had to resist the strong urge to push his finger deeper into your mouth, further down your throat...just to see how much you could take before choking.  

Illumi was quick to snap out of his thoughts. He waited for a few more seconds before giving another order in his typical emotionless tone.  

“Lick again”.  

You do exactly that, opening your mouth and pulling back slightly, moving your tongue around his finger, swirling it around his digit as if it were a piece of candy. Illumi couldn’t stop himself from wondering how else your tongue might feel somewhere else. He could feel the gentle and wet pressure of your tongue as it moved over his skin. Despite his body remaining still and composed it was difficult to pretend he wasn’t affected by your actions, despite him being the one to order you to do these things.  

After a few seconds he spoke in a slightly raspy voice, clearly trying to hide his reaction.  

“Again”.  

You obey, once again licking his finger before subconsciously closing your mouth and sucking on his finger. You didn’t even realized you did it, simply opening your mouth again and continuing to lick his, now very damp, digit. As you started sucking and licking his finger, Illumi had to resist the urge to let out a sound, or show how it was affecting him. He managed to keep his face neutral but he couldn’t stop his mind from imagining how that wetness and heat would feel elsewhere again.  

He struggled a little to maintain his composure, he managed to speak, but his voice now had a slight hint of annoyance and frustration.  

“Stop sucking.” 

You immediately stop all movement, his finger simply resting on top of your still tongue now. Illumi felt relief mixed with disappointment as you finally stopped sucking on his finger. His breath was slightly faster now than before, he couldn’t fully control the effect your actions had on his body. His mind was a chaos of strange new feelings, all of which he was trying his best to suppress under his stoic composure.  

He knew he always favored you more than the other butlers and servants. He thought these odd feelings would go away with time. But when they didn’t, he tried to hide them, until now that is. He was curious, he just wanted to try something, experiment is all.  

He spoke in a slightly more composed voice now. 

“Move your tongue again. Slowly.”  

You obey once more like a loyal lap dog, moving your tongue slowly around his finger, almost as if teasing him.  

At least, that’s how it felt to Illumi. 

 

Illumi’s eyes remained fixated on your mouth as you began to move your tongue again. He could feel the slow and deliberate movement as you teased and licked his finger. The sensation was almost excruciating, it made Illumi struggle with his control and composure. This situation was quickly turning into something unexpected and dangerous. He tried to hide his internal turmoil, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice now when he spoke. 

“Faster.” 

You noticed the way his tone seemed to change but you didn't pay it any attention, simply carrying out whatever orders Illumi gave you, like you always did. Illumi felt his breath deepen as your tongue moved more quickly over his finger. The sensations were intense, it sent a wave of heat through his body and it was getting more and more difficult for him to stay focused. 

He couldn’t deny how good it felt, how much he was enjoying your unresisting obedience, but he couldn’t let you know that. He continued to watch your mouth; his face still mostly expressionless but hints of a struggle for control could be seen in his eyes. 

“Deeper.” 

 

You obey once more, taking his finger deeper into your mouth. His fingers were long, his single digit reaching the top of your throat.  

It was warm, and moist. 

The moment you took his finger all the way to your throat again, Illumi’s eyes flashed, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to the sight or the intense stimulation. 

He tried to maintain a neutral expression but he had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a moan of pleasure. His breathing was getting rougher, and he could feel his body getting more and more tense. 

Then he spoke in a huskier voice than before.  

"Swallow" 

You do exactly that, swallowing around Illumi's finger. You couldn't help but slightly wonder if Illumi was going to be done toying around with you soon. At this point you were convinced he was messing with you.  

Once you swallowed around his finger, Illumi couldn't help but narrow his eyes slightly, trying to control his expression. The sensation was overwhelming, it was all he could do to keep the full extent of his reaction hidden. He quickly composed himself, he tried to mask his expression and his tone became more stern and commanding.  

"Again, slower this time" 

You swallow again, looking up at him.  

The second time you closed your mouth around his finger and swallowed, Illumi gasped and struggled to suppress another moan. He was losing control more and more by the second. He tried to keep his face neutral, but a small muscle in his jaw twitched as he held back another sound. He couldn’t believe how much of an effect you had on him. He spoke again, his voice now a little rougher than before, but still trying to maintain a commanding tone. 

"Again" 

This time as you swallow, Illumi couldn’t stop his body from shuddering, almost like he had been struck by lightning. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tried to hold back an outright moan. He could barely hold onto his composure now; his mind was a chaotic mess of strange new feelings. It was clear that he was struggling to maintain his usual cool demeanor. With a deep exhale, he managed to speak, his voice now more hoarse and strained than before. 

"Again." 

You couldn't help yourself, instead of swallowing around his finger again you pull back. 

You would be stupid not to notice the change in his usual monotone voice. "Master Illumi, are you okay?" You ask him.  

The moment you pulled back, Illumi tried to regain his composure. He was still trying to process the intense thoughts and sensations he had just experienced, and the way your action and question broke his focus. He had never felt this out of control before, and he was getting more and more confused by the moment. He tried to respond in his usual nonchalant tone, but he couldn’t fully hide the slight breathlessness in his voice. 

"Of course I’m okay. Why would you ask that?" 

"You're winded" you say bluntly, noticing the subtle rise and fall of his chest. As you bluntly pointed out his increased breathing, Illumi tried to compose himself but he couldn't deny it. He was slightly winded, his heart was racing, and he was getting more and more flustered by the moment. He took a deep breath, trying to control his expression and regain some composure, but he couldn't quite hide the slight redness in his cheeks. 

He spoke in a slightly more steady voice, but there was a hint of defensiveness to his words. 

"I’m not winded. It’s just… hot in here" 

"Ah, I see" You respond, not quite believing him but you wouldn't fight him on it. Illumi could tell that you didn't fully believe his explanation, but he was glad you didn't pursue the matter further. He was struggling enough trying to regain control of himself and maintain his usual aloof demeanor. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his heart rate and his breathing, but it wasn’t easy. The lingering sensations from your actions were still affecting him, making it difficult to think clearly. He tried to change the subject and return to his usual cool and commanding tone. 

"Did I not tell you to swallow again?" 

"You did" you say slowly. Illumi noticed the hesitation in your voice and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, as if you were starting to catch on to the effect you were having on him. He tried to retain a neutral expression and keep his voice firm and commanding as he repeated his order. 

"Then why did you stop?" 

"I was concerned for you" you say. Illumi was caught off guard by your response. He wasn’t used to people showing concern for him, and it sent a wave of mixed emotions through his mind. He tried to mask his reactions and speak in a neutral tone. 

"I don’t need your concern. I’m just fine. Now obey my order." 

You sigh and silently open your mouth again for him. Illumi was hit with another wave of intense sensations. The sight of your mouth, waiting for him was almost too much for him to bear. He couldn’t believe the effect you had on him. He tried to maintain his composure but he couldn’t stop the slight shiver that ran through his body, and the heat that pooled in his stomach. 

"Good… now, swallow" He struggles to speak in a steady and nonchalant voice, but his breath is shaky and you can detect the hint of a deeper, huskier undertone. 

You do as instructed, swallowing around his finger again. You couldn't help but wonder if there was a point to this. How many times was he going to make you swallow around his finger? "Master Illumi, is there a point to this?" You asks, your words coming out a little odd as you still had his finger in your mouth. Illumi struggles with your question. He doesn’t want to admit the truth, that he was simply using this as an excuse to feel your mouth around his finger again and again, to fantasize about something more. But he can no longer deny the effect you’re having on him. 

He tries to speak with a cool and authoritative tone, but his voice is slightly more tense and almost wavering as he responds. "There doesn’t need to be a point. Stop questioning me, just obey and swallow."  

Illumi felt a pang of discomfort in his stomach. The sounds, the sight, the sensation, it was almost driving him mad. He was on the edge of losing control, on the edge of doing something he had never done with any other attendant or butler before. 

He was wrestling with the urge to just give in to his desires. But at the same time, he was still struggling to hold onto his usual aloof and commanding demeanor. When he looks into your eyes those same eyes that drove Illumi wild in his dreams, and in reality...he could feel his self-control slipping. He couldn't stop himself...he didn’t want to stop himself...and so he gave a new order. 

"Open wider."  

You open your mouth wider, still looking at him with those same eyes that he knew would one day cause his personal downfall. He gave his next order, there was no going back. He didn’t think about the consequences, the implications, or the possible repercussions of his actions. He could only think about one thing in that moment. 

"Get on your knees.” 

Your eyes widen at the new command. What was he getting at? But as usual you obey, just like Illumi knew you would. *As you followed his command and sank down to your knees in front of him, Illumi felt a rush of heat surge through him. Seeing you looking up at him like this, knowing that you were completely at his mercy, it was a feeling like nothing he’d ever experienced before.* 

*He stared down at you for a moment, savoring the sight that was now before him. He could no longer deny the depth of the desire and need he felt for you, it was taking over him and he was helpless to stop it.* 

“Closer." 

As you move closer and kneel before him, Illumi feels every muscle in his body tense. He’s staring down at you with an intense gaze, his eyes darker and more intense than ever before. His heart is racing and he can feel the heat and the need inside him growing ever stronger. 

He reaches down, gently taking your chin in his hands and tilting your face up towards him. He’s breathing hard, trying to control himself, yet at the same time unable to resist the overwhelming pull of desire. 

"I want you closer. Closer than this." 

You didn't fully understand what your emotionless master was getting at. He was odd, there was no question about that. But assuming this was another weird experiment you move closer, your face right in front of his lower half. 

Illumi could feel his dick twitch in his baggy pants. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes again and looked down at you, the expression on his face a mixture of intense desire and a hint of uncertainty. He slowly slid his hand into your hair, taking a fistful between his fingers.  

“Open your mouth.” 

You open your mouth again for him. Illumi pulls on your hair, forcing you to look up at him. That's when you see it, something other than cold, emptiness in his eyes. It was odd, an emotion you've never seen on him before....desire?  

As you open your mouth for him again, Illumi feels the same mix of desire and need coursing through him. His grip on your hair tightens slightly, and he can’t deny the effect it has on him. He stares down at you, his eyes dark and burning with a new kind of intensity. Then you see it, the look in his eyes, different from before. It’s a look of raw desire for you. 

"Keep your mouth open. And don’t move." He commands, his eyes narrowing slightly. You obey, starting to wonder what was happening. Illumi removes his hand from your hair and begins to undo his belt buckle and his pants. Your wide eyes watching him only further fueling the flames of desire and need burning inside him. He looks down at you, his expression intense, almost desperate. 

"Don’t look away. Keep looking at me." 

You fight the urge to look away, having to obey the order. You could feel your face heating up. You silently thank whatever higher power was at work for allowing you to be born with darker skin. Despite knowing Illumi couldn't see your blush, you had a feeling he knew you were blushing anyways. Illumi notices the slight flush on your face despite your darker skin tone, and a small, satisfied smirk appears on his own face. He can tell how embarrassed you are, and it only further fuels his desire for you. 

He looks down at you, the look in his eyes a mixture of intensity and dominance. His voice is now a low, husky whisper. 

"Put your tongue out." 

You obey, allowing your tongue to once again fall over your bottom lip. Illumi completely undoes his pants, allowing them to fall down to his thighs. That's when you see it. His dick straining against his boxers, a wet spot on them.  

Since when did that happen? 

You feel your heart start to speed up a little. 

As you follow his command and allow your tongue to rest against your bottom lip, Illumi feels even more desire coursing through him. He couldn't believe the effect you were having on him, the way you obeyed his every command without question. The sight of you on your knees, so submissive and compliant, it was getting to him. He pulls his dick out of it’s confines, tapping it against your tongue. The mildly salty taste of his precum leaks onto your tongue, making your heart race even faster.  

"Swallow". 

You feel your entire face heat up but...you obey. Slowly taking his dick into your mouth. It was long and hard, already dripping precum. You could feel the way it forced your throat open. It hurt to an extent. But you didn't stop. You continue to take him until you're half way down, looking up at him. You can hear Illumi let out a small hiss, tangling his hand in your hair and slowly pushing you down further before pulling you back to where you stopped. You feel tears pooling into your eyes as you try not to gag. Illumi lets out a soft moan, his head falling back as his eyes slowly flutter shut.  

“Fuck” he moans, gripping the root of your hair and pulling slightly. Illumi can feel his heart rate and breathing speed up even more. The sight of you doing as he says, so readily and willingly, was driving him wild. He stands over you, his gaze intense and commanding, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his erratic breaths. He reaches down with his hand and once again takes a fistful of your hair. His voice is now lower and huskier than before. 

"Now keep your eyes on me." 

Your eyes flutter up to him, you could feel your throat aching but you didn't dare move in a way Illumi didn't allow you to.  

As your eyes flicker up to him, Illumi can see the mixture of submission and trepidation on your face. He could tell that you were struggling to control yourself, to not move without his permission, and it only further fed his own desires. His hand in your hair tightens slightly, pulling your head back a little. 

"Good" he says in a low, firm tone.  

"Now, slowly move your tongue again." 

You obey, slowly moving your tongue around his stiff cock, all the while trying not to choke on it. He had your firmly in place, most of his dick shoved down your throat. It made your throat ache in pain but you don’t show it. You just focus on making Illumi feel good. The taste of his precum was overwhelming your taste buds but...you didn’t hate it either. You close your eyes moving your tongue around his throbbing cock and sucking. You focus on the tip, gently teasing it which only caused Illumi to leak out more precum.  

The taste was becoming a bit much. You were never one to enjoy salty things much but this...you didn’t hate it.  

As you slowly move your tongue, Illumi feels a shiver run through him. The sensation, combined with the sight of you on your knees before him, completely surrendered to his will, it's almost too much for him to bear. He lets out a soft shuddering gasp, gripping your hair even tighter. 

"Keep going. But hold still. Don't move your head." 

You obey, moving your tongue skillfully around his cock. Illumi has to fight the urge to push you down again. He looks down at you, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of pleasure and power. His hand, still fisted in your hair, tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. "Good. Good," he breathed, "Just like that." His voice was a little shaky, something you’ve never heard before.  

You continue to slurp, suck and lick at him, looking up at him as your head starts to go fuzzy and blank. As you continued your actions, Illumi found it increasingly difficult to control himself. With every move of your tongue, he felt his control slipping further and further away. The sensation was overwhelming, and the sight of you on your knees before him, completely at his mercy, only heightened the pleasure coursing through him. 

He looked down at you, eyes burning with both pleasure and dominance. His breathing was now ragged and irregular, and he could barely speak in anything more than a gasp. Fuck, Illumi could feel himself getting close already. He didn’t bother to stop himself, grasping your hair harder as he begins to move his hips, fucking his dick slowly deeper down your throat. It was soft, warm and wet. It felt too good to him. He lets out a small grunt, picking up pace.  

Your hands immediately come to rest on his hips, trying to keep your balance as he started to roughly fuck your throat, seeming not to care if it hurt you or not. “Fuck, why does your throat feel so damn good” Illumi mutters more to himself than to you as he continues to use you like a sex toy. Illumi sucks in a sharp breath, his dick twitching harder down your throat. You feel a thick, warm liquid spilling down your throat, forcing you to drink it all.  

It was his cum.  

He pulls your head closer to his body, forcing his dick all the way down your throat as he cums, his body slightly hunched over. He continues to spill his cum down your throat, forcing you to drink it. You could feel your vision starting to black out from the lack of air you were getting. But just when you thought you were about to pass out, he lets you go, pulling you off his dick by your hair. You fall into a coughing fit, trying to refill your lungs with air. Illumi looks down at you, panting slightly with that same nonchalant expression on his face but...you could see the faint blush on his face as well.  

He takes a moment to catch his breath, trying to compose himself and regain control. His body is still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his eyes still filled with desire and need, but he forces himself to focus. He looks down at you, still on your knees, completely at his will, and he feels a wave of emotion wash over him. Part of him wants to continue, to take things further, but another part of him knows he needs to cool down. 

"Get up," he finally manages to say in a hoarse voice. "Stand up." 

You obey, pulling back and standing to your feet in front of him. You quickly wipe the string of saliva and precum from your mouth. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering.... how did this happen? 

[thornsnvultures]

eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader, 18+

a little drabble loosely based on this text post cause I was having a feeling-bad-about-my-body day and I know eddie would be having absolutely none of that ♡

---

Thick, ringed fingers holding you, pressing into where your tummy dips and fold and rolls. Your legs are spread wide, Eddie's thighs holding yours open, leaving you exposed, bared completely to the mirror in front of you. It's hard to look at first, your head turning into the soft curls at his neck, hiding from your reflection.

"Uh-uh. Look, baby. Look'it how she opens up for me."

It took a long time, learning how not to hate yourself. Learning that everything you hated about you was the opinion of someone who didn't love you, didn't care. It took a long time to look in the mirror and be okay, to accept. Not always celebrating, or loving, but sometimes admiring, appreciating. Understanding that your body didn't hold the entirety of your worth.

And Eddie did enough loving for the both of you anyway.

For a while you stayed away from skinny boys like him, afraid they'd do more damage to all that hard work. But Eddie... there was something different about him. You knew it right away. He wasn't ashamed to be seen with you, wasn't asking you to stay the night only to pretend like he didn't know who you were in front of his friends. He worshipped you, fully worshipped you properly. That can't keep his hands off you, needs you by his side 24/7, thinks you've hung the moon kind of worship.

It was intense at first. You thought he'd get tired of you, move on in a week or two have his fun until something better came along. But it's been months, years of him loving you like no one else has before and, no matter your own reservations about your body, you believe him when he tells you, when he shows you just how much.

His thick fingers delve into your core, a reward for finally looking back at your reflection. The sopping wet center of you wets his winding fingers, the sound obscene as he makes tight circles around your clit.

"The prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

You want to tease, to ask just how many he's seen to make that claim, but you can't form words with the way he's jackhammering his thick fingers in and out of your cunt.

"That's it, princess. Making such a mess for me."

Eddie presses kisses to your temple, down your soft jawline. You stare with rapt attention, jaw practically hanging to the floor and eyes glazed, hazy but laser focused on the ring of your creamy juices around Eddie's knuckles.

His fingers curl into the roof of your cunt, pushing, searching for your release like he needs it more than you do. He's begging in your ear for you to give it to him.

"Show me, princess. Shhhh, I got you," his other hand moves to your clit to work the aching nub when you whine, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Give it to me. Want you to see yourself cum. You're so pretty when you cum on my cock."

Your thighs tense and shake at the mention of his cock and you're bombarded with images of him bending you over in front of this mirror, his fat cock stuffed in your cunt to the base and before you can catch your breath you're screaming, clenching down on his fingers and wailing like a cat in heat. Your eyes never leave your sweaty, heaving body in the mirror. Full breats shuddering, shaking as you gasp for air. Your tummy clenching against Eddie's arm pressed to your middle, holding you tight.

"That's it. Fuck, that's it, baby."

Eddie drags his fingers from your pussy, pulsing and grasping for his fingers, begging them not to leave.

He catches your gaze in the mirror, watching you watching him with his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Did so good for me, princess. So good, so beautiful."

[unknownperson246]

Can you do one where your a waitress at a club and after you get off some creeps try to get at you but Nikki stops them

Hiii I’m so sorry it’s late but I finally made it and here it is I hope you enjoy it 💋💋.

Pretty Lady

Words: 816

warnings: *angst* *fluff* *stealing* *cussing* *getting attacked*

It's the year 1983 and you are a waitress at the Rainbow Bar and Grill. It was a place an attraction to many rockstars but also to a lot of creeps who decided to mess with the people who worked there. This one particular night you were working a double shift because you had to pay rent. You were on the verge of being evicted from your apartment because your landlord couldn't deal with you not paying your rent. You were minding your own business and serving customers who needed service. Once your shift ends you grab your coat and your purse and you put them on. Once you're halfway up the street some drunk creeps grab you by your hair and drag you to an alley nearby.  

“Ow, what the hell who the fuck are you?” you yell. 

Their movements are slurred and they look at you with their viscous and venomous eyes. You were their prey and they were the predator. 

“Shut the fuck up you bitch you going to be sorry you ever spoke to us,” They say drunkenly.

They grab your purse and they steal all of your cash. 

“No please no I worked hard for that” you cry helplessly as they steal all your earnings that you worked day and night for. 

Suddenly there is a dark-haired man with a sharp jawline he is very pale and ghost white. He is wearing leather pants and he is wearing no shirt showing his tattoos. He looks familiar too familiar. You realize you saw him on stage often performing with his band and he was a regular there with his band. You were desperate to try to remember his name. It finally clicked it was Nikki.

“Nikki” you cry out loud and he hears you from the other side. Nikki has your attention and sees what situation you're in. He comes rushing to you and the men who are holding onto your hair. Nikki charges at one of them.

“Who the fuck are you?” They ask. 

“That doesn't matter” Nikki spits at them. 

Nikki raises his fist at them the sight of it scares them off. They drunkenly run away with your purse. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Nikki asks trying to help you up. 

“No. They stole all my money” You sob.

Nikki tries to comfort you but to no avail, you don't seem to calm down. He holds your hand.

 “My landlord is going to kick me out” you sob.

“Hey, it’s okay,”  he says gently.

“What is a pretty lady like you doing out here in the middle of the night in a dangerous alley anyway?” he asks as he chuckles lightly trying to get you to stop crying.

“They dragged me out to this alley from where I work. I was walking away from my workplace because my shift was over” You say sniffling. “Where do you work?” Nikki asks gently trying not to stop you from crying.

“I work at the Rainbow Bar and grill as a waitress” you sniffle.

“Hold on I remember you. Your name is Y/N, right? I always catch a glimpse of you while I am around the place.”

“Yeah I remember you too Nikki” you sniffle 

“I could tell when you yelled my name” he chuckles. 

Nikki feels so bad and guilty for letting the drunk bastards get away with your money. Nikki has an idea but he feels it's too soon because he just had an interaction with you. He doesn't even know you properly. Nikki has a hard time trying to make a decision but he feels so bad. 

“Y/N I know this idea may seem bad to you I mean this is just our first interaction but I feel very bad and I was wondering if you wanted to stay at my place for a while until you can at least pay your rent?”  he says gently as he holds your hand.

“No, no that is a wonderful offer, and thank you  but I don't want to bother you or be in your way” 

“No Y/N I insist” Nikki replies. 

“You sure Nikki?” 

“Yeah, I am a thousand percent sure. Why don't we go together back to your apartment and you can grab your stuff and I'll drive us to my place? Does that sound okay?.” Nikki asks gently. 

You are excited that you are going to live in a rock star's place for a while but you're still sad that all your money is gone. You guided Nikki to your apartment building that was near the Rainbow Bar and grill. You enter the key in the rusty doorknob and you immediately grab all your things in a duffle bag from your trashed apartment. You walk down the ugly old steps and you never look back. Nikki is still there and you both drive down to his place. 

[etherithemagician]

i’m in the process of drawing my MCs’ children with the m6 so i can properly introduce you to them, and i’m starting with cora!

(it’s been years since i last colored with alcohol markers. last time was in middle school. i forgot how good it feels)

anyways here’s cora aisha alnazar, asra and etheri’s daughter. she/her and occasionally they/them, and as you can see, she’s a spitting image of asra, just with etheri’s softer jawline/cheekbones. she’s really cheeky and mischievous and never gave her parents a moment of silence and peace ever since she was born but overall a cutie and a sweet person she will drop everything to go help you if you need it but beware the pranks.

her first name means heart, because i love the meaningfulness of hearts in asra’s route, how important it is. and aisha is a homage to asra’s lovely mother obv!

[existslikepristin]

Poll is set to be a week long again because tomorrow through Friday are going to be long work days, but I'll probably screenshot the incomplete results on Saturday and start writing the next part at that point

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, anal

(Story Index)

The top bunk

“Yeah, let’s fuck on the top bunk,” you say, a little unsure of exactly what you meant.

“You have a bunk bed?” Joy asks.

“No.”

“What, uh… what bunk bed then?”

You glare. “Can you make this happen or does it need to be a wish?”

Joy shrugs. “I mean yeah, I can do it. Let’s see…” she taps her chin contemplatively, “Top bunk… top bunk…”

It’s very dark. The first thing you feel is the instant, albeit subtle rise in temperature. You smell something light and floral. Instead of standing up, you’re lying on your stomach on a combination of two soft surfaces (it’s a mattress and Joy’s body. You’re not fucking stupid). You’re sure there was a transition of some sort between your kitchen and wherever you are now, but it feels very vague.

“Top bunk!” Joy chirps. She’s only barely visible in the dark.

“Where are we?” you ask, reasonably.

“Legend says that if you cum in my ass, I’ll tell you.”

Whatever. That’s kind of what you were going for anyway. You pull back and thrust ahead into your sudden missionary position, and hear the clattering of your sturdy-enough plastic mug hitting the slightly distant floor. The bed beneath you creaks and wobbles dangerously.

“Oh fuck. The tea!” Joy whines, but that complainy whine shifts into a needy whine when you lift her legs around you and pound into her ass.

Joy’s body is hot against yours. Maybe a little hotter than you’d expect from a human, and you mean that physically and in the sex way. No human being has any business feeling this good, moaning just right into your ear, teleporting you to unknown locations. Her calves on your lower back, arms thrown around your shoulders, and breasts pressed into your chest. You kiss her neck and her jawline, and she does the same back to you. You can’t help but think her lips are laced with some kind of magical drug designed to arouse you further.

Alternatively, you’re just on the verge of cumming in Joy’s ass. And you do, forgetting about the new location (as if it mattered anyway) and releasing what feels like years worth of cum (as if it worked like that) into her. Much like the last time a few minutes ago, she becomes your world for those few moments. She clenches around you, limbs and asshole alike, in her orgasm… or something like that. You didn't bother to ask. The bed quakes and creaks further, but you're so absorbed in your climax that you don't register the potential consequences of that.

It takes a while for you to finish and come out of your jizz daze. It feels rather liquidy inside Joy's butt, so you briefly wonder if the magic she pulled earlier had some additional effect on the amount of cum you generated, on top of just refreshing your energy.

Joy rubs her legs together on your back, coming down from her own high. She kisses your cheek tenderly until you pull away and look at her. You have adjusted a bit to the new illumination situation, so you can see her smile as she looks into your eyes. There's a little spark of affection on her face.

Suddenly, your eyes are assaulted by a flash of light, and your ears by a woman's shrill scream.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

With your fight or flight response triggered, you look around frantically, regretting it because of the intense light coming through a doorway, but you see a way down from the top bunk you can now visually confirm you're on.

Joy (whose ass your dick is still firmly within) speaks quickly, "Shhh! Heather, it's me!"

There's a pause, and then, "Joy?"

"You know each o—" you cut yourself off, realizing you're naked and fucking in front of a stranger, presumably on her bed.

"Where the fuck is Anya?"

Joy leans out from under you to more properly address this Heather person. "Oh, I don't know."

Heather gasps, "Is this your new master?"

"Sure is."

"Is Anya dead?!"

"What? No. She used her last wish on immortality, so she most definitely is not."

"I thought you told her not to do that."

"I did! She firmly insisted!"

"Okay, well… please get off my bed."

"I thought you used the bottom bunk."

"After Anya graduated, I took the top."

"Oh… well, okay. We can leave."

Your eyes have almost finished adjusting to the light, and you get a good look at this Heather. It's hard to get a read on her height from your vantage point, but you gather that she's a pale, chubby woman with long brown hair, and she's absolutely rocking a blue crop top. Just then, a green smoke floats into your line of sight.

"Wait, Joy! I've been meaning to ask you wh—"

You're in your kitchen again, on your feet, but still with your dick in Joy's butt. She's on her back on the table once again.

"So… Heather?" you ask.

"Last master's college roommate. And no, I don't know why her elbows are so crusty. She says the baby powder helps, but it doesn't."

"And Anya?"

"Last master. She's immortal now."

"I gathered. Why?"

"She wished for immortality like a dipshit."

"No, why did you take us there?"

"It was the first top bunk I could think of. I didn't think it would be a big deal since I've already had so much sex up there with my last master, Heather, and the harem of anime boys they shared."

"Anime boys?"

Joy's butt plug appears in her hand just as your dick goes soft enough to fall out of her ass on its own, and Joy pops it in, holding in what seems to be an unusually large amount of your cum. "Yeah, my last master was a big ol' weeb. I didn't expect to like it, but two-dimensional cock is actually pretty cool. Strangely, it works. They were all such gentlemen, too."

Options:

Holy shit! Wish for your own harem of anime boys!

Wait, wait. Girls. Wish for an anime girl harem.

Go back and figure out Heather's question (and phone number).

Wish for your old bully to know about all the sex you're having.

[madame-fear]

Hello, Amira! I have an idea for you, something I’ve been thinking about for some time.

Jacaerys introduces his best friend Cregan Stark to Lucerys and reader. Luke immediately notices Cregan took some interest in her. He would often talk to you and invite you for a walk, making Luke burn with jealousy. After all, Cregan is older and stronger while he is a young man of 18 years old. But reader only has eyes for Lucerys.

Anyways, I just wanted jealous Lucerys and add Cregan to it.

YESSS I CAN SEE THIS HAPPENING.

The very first moment Luke and you were introduced to Cregan Stark by Jace, our little dragon would've noticed that Cregan would seem to have a particular interest for you. Always fixing his stare on you, and being too friendly and kind around yourself.

This very first thing that he notices, would make Luke to begin feeling slightly jealous. Even if he tries to dismiss it, or ignore it, he can't. He can notice Cregan beginning to take a fond liking for you from the second you met, and it just makes him clench his jaw in silence, getting leisurely overwhelmed with a suffocating sensation of pure jealousy.

Cregan would begin to be around you more often. Always talking to you, making you laugh at stupid jokes, inviting you out for walks together — or even, gifting you flowers! And right there, Lucerys slight jealousy would become more intense in a rapid span of time, making it quite obvious.

His green eyes would always be fixed on Cregan while he talks to you/gifts you something, crossing his arms and huffing when he sees him making you laugh, staying silent for too long, etc. The flames of jealousy would burn fierely deep inside of him, not allowing him to think properly and see that you could never replace him. And of course, his insecurity about himself would begin to pick on him, but wouldn't say a single thing to you.

Though, even if he doesn't say anything about it, you can notice his sudden change of behaviour. And of course, his facial expressions.

“Luke?” you ask him, sweetly. “Is everything alright? You've lately been... silent, different.” imquiring him, your gaze ascended to stare into his hazel eyes, as you rested your head on his shoulder. With a notoriously forced, slightly thin-shaped smile, he looked down at you, as his arm was around your body. “Different?” he spoke. “No, I'm not. I'm alright, everything's alright.” lucerys responder quickly, looking elsewhere so you wouldn't notice his jealous gaze at the thought of Cregan having taken a liking for you. But you knew better. And with a scoff, you kept gazing at him, noticing his faked "normal" expression shifting to a jealous, frustrated one. “Lucerys Velaryon.” you began, sitting properly by his side. “Are you... jealous?” you inquired, trying to keep a smile contained, noticing how his behaviour changed after meeting, and befriending Cregan Stark. Rapidly turning to look at you in your eyes, with an embarrassed crimson fluster on his cheeks, he quickly shook his head. “N-No! Me, jealous? That's impossible! I could never be jealous of Cregan Stark, no.” once again, his stare went to look to another part of the room, trying to hide his timid blushing. But you never mentioned of him being specifically jealous of Cregan, and his reaction was quite obvious. “You silly, silly boy.” you retorted, playfully, throwing yourself at him with arms widely open, and embracing him into a warm hug as you giggled. Which surprised him, but didn't take too long to return the embrace, having your lips being placed all over his cheeks, jawline, and kissing the corner of his lips. “My eyes have always been fixed on you, Lucerys. I have never loved a boy like I love you, my prince. You are the most loving, sweet, educated, and gentle boy I have ever met, and you make me feel over the moon with love.” you mumbled in between kisses, making him stupidly smile and his cheeks become even redder, his heart pounding tightly. “My heart belongs only to you, and no one else's; no matter how hard they try to impress me.”

You can definitely say our little dragon is the absolute most joyful boy at that moment. The thought of having won your attention instead of Cregan stealing all your focus on him just made him feel too proud.

And obviously, he would be delightfully overwhelmed with love at the amount of kisses, sweet words and attention you immediatly showered him after he made his jealousy a bit too obvious for him to hide.

Luke would be riding that high for the rest of his days, and everytime he sees you with Cregan, he can't help but goofily smile to himself at remembering your words.

Plus, whenever you're with the Stark leader, you'd always make sure to place a randon kiss on Luke's cheek or flash him a quick smile to make sure he doesn't feel jealous. But, not anymore. Luke is proud of having all your attention, and love. No shame in admitting it.

♡ taglist ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovebooks-akie

[greeksorceress]

“to lucerys.” jacaerys starts, “the last time we saw each other, flowers were blooming in their spring, which might not be too long for some, but my heart has missed you greatly.”

lucerys looks up at him with doe, glassy eyes, timidly smiling at jacaerys while his fingers dance over the rim of his cup. lucerys’ stomach hurts with nerves and anticipation, for what exactly is something he can’t tell. 

jacaerys is right. some moons have passed since lucerys bade him his farewell by the dragon pit, anxiously watching over jacaerys to make sure he tied his bags to the mount and fastened himself properly to his dragon. jacaerys had hugged him briefly and tightly before flying north, and now the man that is rising his cup to lucerys looks nothing alike the boy he sent off.

jacaerys’ smile is broad, all high cheekbones and cutting jawline where the boyish roundness used to be a year ago. his shoulders are wider, his arms are bigger and he looks handsome, taller, stronger.

lucerys’ throat bobs as he comes to realise this, and promptly feels himself flush upon the fact that he had noticed such a thing in the first place. he wants to drain the wine and drown his thoughts with it, but jacaerys is not finished with his name day toast. 

lucerys’ name day celebrations are as ostentatious as they can get. it isn’t a surprise, though, every single soul in the realm knows king viserys would never do less for his favourite child’s favourite child.

everything around lucerys feels like a blur of gold and candlelights and copious plates of piquant food. he knows it must have been his mother, the crown princess rhaenyra targaryen had watched like a hawk over the preparations, and not a single arrangement had been carried out without bearing her scrutiny. daemon’s deadly stare right behind his mother had done nothing but help her case, too.

it has been worth it so far.

“the memories of my youth that i hold the closest to my heart are the ones that i share with you. it’s been an honor to be by your side as a boy, and i hope to continue doing so as we both mature. to prince lucerys,” jacaerys repeats, “the realm’s second delight, the velaryon pearl, the light of his family and the heart of his lēkia.”

lucerys’s apple cheeks redden as the guests toast to him, too. “hear, hear!”

he takes a sip from his drink and makes the mistake of finding aemond’s eye already staring back at him. 

he almost chokes on his drink, confused and alarmed. it never meant anything good when aemond stared at him like that. it was unsettling, lucerys’ hand was already itching under the coolness of his glass, his heart rabbiting in his chest. 

he doesn’t back down, though, because there’s something that he really likes about the way in which aemond looks at him, too. it makes his head feel ditzy sometimes with emotions he doesn’t understand. his mouth tastes like blood and his veins thrum with it, and there’s some beauty in the danger that aemond targaryen supposes that makes lucerys want to whine out loud.

aemond is promising him something with his burning amethyst, and he wants it so much he could sob.

their moment halts abruptly when jacaerys, already sat with his body facing him, tucks a curl behind lucerys’ ear and leans down to whisper, “you only deserve the best.”

lucerys can’t help himself when he leans towards the hand that is touching him, and barely keeps down a pleased purr when jacaerys cups his cheek lovingly. can jacaerys feel the mighty fire of his blush too?

he looks back at aemond, like it’s a reflex he hasn’t mastered yet, and jumps with what he sees. aemond’s face remains stony, indescribable, but where passion was simmering few moments ago in that lone orb, a newfound rage scorches the spot in lucerys’ face that jacaerys is touching.

the table and cutlery tremble as aemond slams his fist against it and stands up abruptly, waiting for all the guests to turn their attention to him. he raises his cup and snarls, “final tribute.”

[astronomyandfrogs]

𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄.

unpopular opinion: joel miller might not be a people pleaser, but can for sure please his own woman.

tw: smut, sloppy fucking, 🐱 eating, fingering, porn with a bit of plot. the reader is called with a nickname (peach). [1.6k]

the room is pitch dark. your mind is still half asleep, while your body is wide awake. laying on your back, you feel his stubble pinching your neck and his breath tickle your cheek.

there were no clocks in the room and the only present watch stopped working years ago. you didn’t know what time it is, but you knew that you still had at least two hours — perhaps even longer — till sunrise. the air is still and the only sound is the high pitched vibration of the fridge in the corner.

before the outbreak, you used to live in a huge and loud city. at night you always heard people walk around or chat under your window or public transports stop at the station around the corner and teenagers cheer for the properly executed mission with the fake id. now, with this suffocating quietness, you feels like you are trapped in the limbo.

you move closer to joel, pressing your hand on his back to pull his weight on you, to feel something. you squeeze him, but it doesn’t bother the peaceful sleep of the man lying on you.

your eyes are starting to get used to the lack of light and you can now see the shape of his face. almost instinctively, you move your hand to trace his jawline with your fingertips. the five-days-freshly-cut beard is starting to regain its usual length.

you continue to trace his face line, moving to his ears and then to his hair. you sense your body relax and your mind being at ease once again. ironically, your eyes close at the exact moment that his eyes open.

he know that you’re awake, but you don’t know that he is awake.

your thumb brushes his moustache, which, to the touch, is much rougher than the other spots of the beard. and then there are his lips. oh, those lips.

from far away, to someone who never touched them, they seem dry. but once you get closer to them, once you get to bite and lick them, the plumpness and softness are obvious. and from that moment on that knowledge taunts you, it becomes an obsession.

then his weight is lifted from your body, and you feel a sudden loss, an absence.

his eyes — big puddles of obsidian in the night, bright rays of amber in the light — are peering on you. you smile as joel’s brushes his lips on yours.

one of the first intimate act you shared. at the time, it was just a silent confession, a simple act of intimacy that reviled the roots of something deeper. but now it’s a reminder of where you came from and of the things you achieved.

“still awake, peach?” he asks. joel’s voice is low and husky — your shifting had clearly woken him up. his free hand (the one that wasn’t keeping him still on his side) is on your waist, firm and anchored.

“didn’t mean to wake you up” you say. he doesn't say anything, he doesn't bother to reply, but the look in his eyes means something close to if i wanted to go back to sleep i would’ve. knowing his sleeping habits, he probably wasn’t even sleeping.

“i hate this fucking place at night,” you confess “the way everything is silent and still, like out of time, stick in a loop in which there is no possible way out”.

you take a deep breath and continue “sometimes my mind makes up sound for this emptiness and i wake up hearing them around us, and even when i am conscious and awake, i still can hear them”.

he doesn't need to ask who 'them' are, he knows, he dreamed the clickers himself dozens of times.

he wraps his arms around you and buries your head in his neck. you smile tenderly, grateful to be understood. you shift and move closer to him, but your knee accidentally brushes against his crouch.

“really?” you comment “is my existential crisis turning you on?”.

“you are the one half naked in my bed” he argues “and you also don’t look too bad right now”.

“i look pretty in the dark,” she giggles “how romantic”.

he rolls his eyes, jokingly. his hands slides all over your body, brushing your neck, your side and your waist, leaving shivers and goosebumps on the sensitive skin.

you wraps your legs around his hips, a clear invitation which he immediately takes without hesitation. for a brief moment his deep dark eyes are looking straight in yours — displayed beneath him you look vulnerable and magnificent, your cheeks are coloured with a pinch of red and your breathing is already irregular.

when he kisses you, just as each and every time, your heart detonates like a bomb, but the explosion isn't generated by violence and hatred. it's born from lust and, perhaps, love.

his skin is hot under your hands and you can feel his firm muscles as you grip on them. still fully clothed, you grind on him. you can't help it, in some kind of need of release.

“so fucking greedy” he murmurs as one of his hands cups your butt to steady the rhythm.

when he moves and the friction fades, you wine. but he lowers himself, till his body is right between your legs.

your thighs are spread wide, have to be with how broad he is beneath you, and you can already foresee the difficulties you’ll later have with walking.

you raise your hips, and with one quick (and experienced) motion, he removes your bottoms and panties.

his tongue was quick to reach his destination and you moan at the new sensation, as euphoria floods your body.

he's sucking, biting and fucking his tongue into you. his hands on your legs, keeping them in place. your legs begun to twitch, coming closer and closer to the orgasm.

“you always taste so good, peach” he praises.

he eats you out like a starved man, like it’s his last day on earth and you are his last meal. he licks every inch of your cunt like it depends on his life.

you shove your head in the pillow as you came, your hand on your mouth to cover your moans.

he continued the deed unbothered. his hands rooted on your legs, keeping them open for him. a few hours later, tiny bruises will emerge on the skin of your legs, right in the places were he is holding you still.

“i want your fingers, joel” you beg.

“one more time on my tongue, baby, can you do that for me?” he demands.

yes, you think, yes, i can. with your hand, you shove his head closer to you skin, if that even is possible, while continuing to rock his mouth — up and down, up and down. your heart slams on your sternum.

joel eats you out like a tormented man downed in his sins, who's only possible chance of atonement is being buried between your legs. and god, he might as well be a saint.

he loves the smell and the taste. he loves the wetness and the warmth. he loves your moans and your whispers.

you arch your back towards him and you came again, this time harder and louder.

“good girl” he whispers. he doesn’t let you replay, since, as promised, he slips his fingers inside of you and finally clench around him, who's fill every inch of you and reach every inch of you.

his fingers curve on your g-spot and you might have just woken up half the qz, but, at this point, they probably got used to it.

“fuck, joel” you cry “it's too much”.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks. as you look down at him, you shake your head furiously. he grins and presses his lips on your clit to leave a chaste kiss on it, as he keeps pumping his fingers inside of you, restlessly.

“i can't wait to be inside you” joel confesses.

“no one is stopping you, handsome” you can feel his quite giggle on your clit, which produces a wave of ecstasy in your veins.

with your eyes closed, all you can hear is the sound of his fingers going in and out of you, soaking even more. your muscles contract once more and you came again, with his name on your lips.

he is again on top of you, his fingers — the ones that were in your cunt just a few second ago — are covered with your wetness.

“open up” he orders. you follow his instructions and he presses his fingers on your tongue. your own taste is sweet, a lot sweeter then what joel's testes like. it is pleasing.

no wonder he's pussy drunk all the time, you think.

as you kiss each other, you know that his lips are glossy from your cum — they have the same taste of his fingers — and, as you pictured his lips covered with your wetness, a shock of pleasure floods you. as you bit on his lips, he growls and you mewl.

he slips in you without warning. his mouth on yours quietens the moan. he pulling out almost all the way and then pushing back with one hard move. and again, and again, and each move knocks the air out of your lungs.

“you are so fucking warm, peach”.

you know he was talking to you — praising you — but at this point you were beyond understanding.

fill me up, joel.

you doesn't know if you only thought it or if you said it out loud. either way, he comes in you with one hard trust as he bites down on your neck.

you stay in this position for a while, joel on top and still inside of you, crushing your body. but it doesn't bother you nor him. you love his body on yours, and he is very well aware.

[rubykgrant]

I've been slowly re-doing/adjusting my RVB face designs, and also working on more characters! It will eventually be a LOT, but for now; here are the main Reds, Blues, Freelancers, Doc, plus a bonus of Locus, Flowers, and my OC Poppy (just for the fun of it~). I love designing characters, and playing around with features so everybody has different noses, mouths, chins/jaw-lines, etc. For everybody, I have two versions. The first being their signature armor color, and then their actual people colors. I also wanted to include things like facial hair, glasses, scars, freckles and what-not (like Donut's hearing aide and Carolina's eye shadow, because she can't NOT be edgey haha).

(below is some design descriptions and notes on my thought process for everybody. it is a LOT, don't feel obligated to read it~)

Grif and Simmons both clash and compliment each other not only in personality, but in physical features as well (Simmons is sharp, and Grif is soft). I wanted to show that Simmons actually isn't as scrawny and gawky as he used to be, but he hasn't totally registered that he's finally "grown into himself", or that some muscles have happened (once he does, this unlocks "Confident Simmons", and nobody is safe. for now, he's just too used to feeling awkward). Simmons has a fairly strong jawline, an aquiline nose, and hair the color of red clay. He's had his hair very short and properly styled for many years, but after Chorus it started to grow out, and when he pulled it back to see how much he needed to trim, he realized he liked being a ponytail guy! (also, it isn't visually shown here, but trans Simmons is real~) Grif is a big guy, fat and pretty darn strong with thick limbs, and rough around the edges. He's also handsome and beautiful (not "in spite" of those features, but BECAUSE of them). His features are like a combination of rebellious and charming, with his default expression being chill. He has warm copper brown skin, and hair that reaches his shoulders, dark brown, very thick and wavy (it also magically never gets tangled). You can see where Simmons' cyborg prosthetics match the same area where Grif got his skin grafts, but over the years Grif has sort of "absorbed" the organic material, and the skin is a shade darker than when the surgery was fresh (Simmons himself isn't too terribly pale, but still lighter than Grif). Grif occasionally shaves or lets his beard grow in more full, but usually likes to keep just a little bit of face-fuzz around his chin

Sarge is very boxy and built like a brick. I enjoy the irony of a character who has a very BIG personality being somewhat short in stature, and Sarge is certainly a little bundle of dynamite. Despite his claims of only being 29, he somewhere in his 50s (possibly getting into 60s), but still going strong. I wanted to show the age lines around his mouth and his eyes, so he doesn't just look weirdly "smooth" (this man is basically leather, and proud of it. he also has larger earlobes, and bushy eyebrows). His hair has gone white and gray, kept in a perpetual buzz-cut, and he has some scruffy facial hair. He's broken both his nose and his jaw several times in his life, resulting in some unique shapes. Most of his scars happened years ago when he was younger, but the scar on the side of his head is from getting shot during Blood Gulch. He's rather pale thanks to wearing the armor every day for a few decades. His "solution" was to try and sun burnt on purpose so he'll be RED again, but Donut, Simmons, and Doc stopped him before it got too bad. He typically looks very grumpy and stern, but we all know Sarge is EXPRESSIVE with his emotions

My thought process with Donut was to combine Barbie with GI Joe; very pretty, but also pretty darn strong! He has sort of a "soft diamond" shape to his face and jawline. He looks very sweet, but has the potential to be INTIMIDATING. In the past, his hair was light blonde, but turned a strawberry-brown as he got older. During Blood Gulch, when he got EXPLODED, Donut got some scars on the right side of his face, and the hair in that area never entirely grew back. After finally accepting that he is PINK, Donut has also embraced other aspects of himself, both loving who he already is and enjoying what he wants to be. He doesn't hid his scars, but he styles his hair with a side under-cut and dyes the longer lengths a lighter blonde. He also wears a hearing-aid for his right ear, and his eyebrow on that side is a bit thin too. Donut's mouth naturally makes the "cute kitty shape", and he usually has some shiny chapstick/lip-balm on as well. He likes to get some sun on his skin, but is careful not to tan too much, and always uses lots of lotion

Doc is very "in the middle", not too tall or too short, he's not skinny but not chubby either... however, he's got sort of a sturdy build, very athletic without being too buff. A rounded jawline that ends in a small point with his chin. He has a very high bridge to his nose, making a refined line from his forehead down in profile, with sharper edges at the sides of the nostrils. His skin is a deep brown, and his hair is very dark, kept short, with the curls swept up out of his face. Doc isn't "vain" exactly, but he likes to feel comfortable with himself, and to a certain degree, this involves being satisfied with his appearance. O'Malley also enjoys feeling sort of "cozy" with the hair and what-not, so it is a shared reassurance. Doc wears glasses, and O'Malley absolutely knows how to do the "intense anime glasses thing" when he wants to look DRAMATIC. Something I wanted to show with both of them; Doc has very welcoming and kind vibes, but he is perfectly capable of being a sarcastic little smart-mouth, with a fierce sense of resolve. O'Malley likes to be very over-the-top and appear threatening, but there's potential for him to protective, and even joyful. Again, he looks very in the middle, applying to Doc and O'Malley's attitudes

Kai resembles her brother in many ways, but I wanted to make sure she's still unique to herself. Things they have in common; warm copper skin, thick and wavy hair, and they're both chubby. There is a subtle heart-shape to her face (above around her forehead and hair, and also lower with her jaw). Kai has had fun with lots of different hairstyles through the years, but she's decided to just let it grow out. She's dyed it some crazy colors in the past, without really knowing what she was using, but now Donut helps her coordinate, so she has a gradient going on (darker golden-brown at the roots, lighter shades of brown in the middle, and finally yellow at the ends). To keep it from getting tangles, she usually has her hair tied back, or wrapped up while she sleeps. Kai is somebody who is very aware of what she's physically capable of, in terms of both strength and flexibility. Sometimes she shows off with some interesting party tricks, but also just has a graceful way of moving when she wants to dance (or kick somebody's butt). Everything about Kai is LOUD and PROUD, but that doesn't mean she can't calm down and share quiet moments with the people she cares about. She also has two double sets of earrings; two studs up on her right ear, and two small hoops lower on her left ear

The first rule when drawing Tucker; he is the prettiest. He has fairly long and noticeable eyelashes. His nose has a defined smooth and broad curve to it, giving him a profile that is a bit regal, even heroic. He's one of those people who always looks younger than he actually is (not exactly a "baby face", but naturally youthful, until one day he's just gonna suddenly become a silver fox). He has dark brown skin, and thick black hair (4c), kept a little long at the top, but styled as a fade. He has pierced ears, usually just two studs (but can be more elaborate if he wants to dress up). Tucker is an interesting character; visually, he can very easily be a pretty boy, or a prince charming... but then he starts talking, and you realize how obnoxious and annoying he is. Underneath the flirty attitude and sarcastic jokes, he has genuine concern for others, and a fear that he won't be strong enough to protect people. Underneath THAT, he's a determined and clever person that is capable of doing amazing things. All that is wrapped-up within Tucker. I wanted to see a hint of the charm and smug attitude in his face, but the noble look is in there too. Physically, he's a short-king (manlet), but after training with Wash, Tucker has impressive muscles that combine with some quick reflexes

I imagine Caboose as one of the BIGGER characters. He also has the strongest "huggable vibes" (he's literally friend-shaped, no matter how much Church used to argue this fact). Caboose has a naturally sweet smile, which makes it all the more serious when he's upset (a sad Caboose will break your heart... a mad Caboose might break your arms). As Sarge once said- "He's like an ox!". His skin is a shade of sandy brown. His hair is a deeper brown, very soft and a little bit fluffy (I'm especially happy with how his bangs turned out~). I really wanted to make it clear that while Caboose might be all kinds of adorable, he is indeed a grown man, able to take care of himself, and others as well (he understands things some of them never notice). The curve of his jaw is low and subtle, but also shows how "solid" he is built. Caboose is a hopeful person, and has the will power to MAKE things turn out OK one way or another. No matter how unusual his ideas might be, Caboose is dependable, and intuitively has the strength to be kind on purpose

Wash has kept the beard despite the teasing, which has finally transformed him from looking like a very tired lost teenager into a dad who works at a library (the beardo-fication of Wash~). His hair is mostly a light blonde, more golden brown at the roots and through his facial hair (during Project Freelancer, he had a shock of gray after the Epsilon incident, but it has faded). His skin is a light tan color, covered with MANY freckles, and a few scars on his face (the most recent neck injury isn't visible. the scar above his eye is actually from a skateboarding accident as a kid, but the one across his nose was sometime after Project Freelancer started to fall apart). Although he fusses over other people a lot, Wash is bad at taking his own advice, and tends to not eat or sleep enough. It also didn't help that he had a bad habit of ignoring his own emotional breaking points until he was in the middle of losing control... he's finally learned to recognize certain things, and accept every part of himself (a little punk kid, a dork, Mr Serious, a guy who had a Villain Moment, and somebody who really found where he belongs). Under the beard, he has an angular chin, his nose has a curved swoop shape to it, and he has a defined lower lip

Carolina is one of the few characters we see without armor in the series, so I knew what I was working with, but I also wanted to show how she has changed. Carolina is a naturally intense person with somewhat slender features, and she's worked hard to be VERY strong. Now that she's spent time with this group of goobers, and had some chill lessons from Grif, Carolina is rediscovering how to enjoy herself and be less harsh (remember, she is the BEST. this means she's gonna be the Best Red, the Best Blue, the Best at Being Annoying~). She cut her hair during Iris, a little bit choppy at the time, but later decided to keep it short and give it a cleaner trim. She's dyed it a darker, less vibrant shade of red (I imagine her natural red is a bit more carrot). She still uses heavy eye shadow though! (at this point, it is out of spite toward anybody who everybody who ever said it looked silly; not so silly when she's kicking your but, is it?). She's a bit pale, but with a warm tone to her skin. Most of Carolina's scars came from incidents when she didn't have armor, or was so determined to finish a mission, she didn't care if she got hurt. It isn't visible here, but she doesn't bother with shaving her legs (not to get all deep about it, but Carolina sort of has her own balance with embracing certain aspects of femininity, and also ignoring expectations of "beauty". she knows what she's about, and does what she wants)

These designs for Tex and Church exist within my story-line where they get to return in synthetic human bodies (originally intended for the Director to use for himself and Allison, once he could properly "resurrect" her... which didn't work). DNA samples were used as the basic building blocks, the genetic information was allowed to "randomize" itself. As a result, Tex isn't an identical clone of Allison (just like parents can have more than one child; related, but physically different). Ironically, Tex takes after Allison's maternal grandmother, and so does Carolina. Tex has light skin and blonde hair, which she keeps tied back in a ponytail, with two lengths that frame the sides of her face. Carolina and Tex have the same nose shape, a long bridge that curves up at the end. She considered cutting her hair different, or dying it another color... but she didn't want to constantly worry about "changing" herself to avoid any similarities with Allison. Instead, Tex wants to find out what it means to be HERSELF; which is BIG and BUFF. She's pretty tall with a thick body-type already, so she just had to work on the muscles (also, even with long hair, she still has a "warrior dude" vibe, and she's very proud of it). Tex naturally has a lot of confidence and a rebellious attitude, but she really isn't "mean"... at least, not all the time

Church definitely has some traits that came from the Director... but Church was always a contrary little so-and-so, and even though he had no control over how his body formed, it seemed he was destined to be the "opposite" of what somebody else intended. Church is much shorter than the Director, with a thicker more "chunky" body-type (he puts on some healthy weight later, getting a bit more chubby. he also works on being strong enough to pick Tex up. that was his whole motivation). He has a broader nose, and more squared jaw. He has light skin, but a bit more of a sandy color. The most obvious resemblance is his black hair, which sticks up like a soft hedgehog. He asked Carolina and Tex if he should avoid having facial hair (since they have to look at him, and he doesn't want them to be reminded of any unpleasant memories). They assure him that it's fine, and the hair on his chin kind of suits him (it fact, even through the similarities, they can look at him and just see CHURCH, as he is). Church can be a smug, loud-mouth jerk... but though all his rants full of curse words and insults, he cares very deeply about people. Even though he had some ego-trips, he mostly just thought of himself as "some guy". Now he knows how important he is, not because he's a special and highly advanced AI, but because a lot of people missed him. Now he can actually be with them all again, and just like Epsilon, he has the chance to find out what he's truly capable of (they can still project holographic avatars of themselves, but all of the AI Fragments are back too, and happily spend time in Church's head~). Although they make different expression, Church and Carolina have the same "neutral" shape to their mouths

Poppy was originally sent to a different group of Red and Blue Flag Zealots, meant to identify needed supplies and order more ammunition. She was designated "neutral", and had white armor with tan accents. When the teams ran out of bullets, they kept fighting in non-lethal ways, which Poppy thought was preferable to a clearly pointless war, so she just never put in the order for more. Both teams considered her a friend, playfully fighting over who's side she was on, but never getting mad at her for getting along with them all. After a dangerous incident left her knocked-out and recovering, Temple's group arrived to recruit more Sim Troopers. Poppy's group refused to join. When she woke up, they were all gone. She misses them dearly. Because she's still considered part of the Flag Zealots, the UNSC decided to throw her back into a new training program (which was actually pretty shady and insidious), and that's where she meets Sarge. Poppy has a calm yet sarcastic personality, with a raging inferno of a temper once somebody ticks her off. Perfect for Red Team! Poppy is medium-short, about the same as Doc. She has broad shoulders and strong arms, very sure-footed and versatile when it comes to fighting. A very go-with-the-flow attitude, somebody who can be comforting and encouraging, but isn't shy about showing her emotions. She has a somewhat rounded fact with a short, sturdy chin. Her skin is a light shade of brown, and her long hair is a dark earthy brown. Not pictures is her own prosthetic arm (she's meant to be a "mirror" for Simmons, clever like him, but not a know-it-all. she was the one in the accident, and woke up with cyborg parts. Sarge decides to just adopt her, and this SHOULD immediately make him hater her, but Simmons finds himself feeling pretty fond and protective of Poppy. accidental sibling! also, they're both trans in opposite directions~)

We've seen Locus without armor in a flash-back before Chorus, so I tried to translate that into my style I use here. I imagine that he actually wasn't doing to great Chorus, not eating or sleeping enough, what with the whole crisis involved; thinking of himself as a murder-machine unable to see the worth of kindness or mercy, and THEN recovering enough humanity to be horrified by his actions thus considering himself a monster without a purpose... y'know, that whole song and dance. Anyway, the Reds and Blues force him to be a person again, so he gained some weight back. While he has a very strong jaw, it's kind of low where the angle is (so he doesn't have a "long" chin, but a wide one). He also has pretty defined cheek bones, and other features as well (he wasn't smiling much for a LONG time, but he does indeed have lines on his face that deepen when it happens). He's BIG, burly, and buff... but hopefully looks less harsh than before

I like to imagine that Flowers keeps faking his own death, and has a set of plans outside of what Project Freelancer was trying to do... nothing ever worked out properly. Flowers mainly doesn’t like the idea of people being “thrown away” or treated like they’re worthless, and at his worst, that meant using people for some goal they didn’t choose for themselves. He wouldn’t like to admit it, but… “daddy doesn’t always know best”, and he’s trying to include people on the decisions of these goals now (while the Director and Councilor might have just thrown together Red and Blue teams to mimic the other group who had a nearly endless stalemate going, Flowers picked out the Reds and Blues for Blood Gulch because he LIKED them, and he genuinely thought Alpha would too… in a very twisted way, Flowers founded this family). Nobody entirely trusts him at first, what with all the lying. Plus he keeps talking like a overly cheerful serial killer. He’s an older and distinguished gentleman. Some gray streaks in his hair, which he keeps wrapped up in several small braids that make a flower-shaped bun. Some scars on his body from many missions and fights (including the ax to the shoulder). He has a warm, brown skin, and back tattoo that is just barely visible; orange blossoms. He has a tall and lanky body-type, but even past middle-age he still has thick muscles

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨

WICKED EYES

MASTERLIST

This is dark romance with descriptions of violence, gore, racism, sexism along with NSFW themes. The reader is black in this AU but this story can be enjoyed by all walks of life ❤️

Immediate warnings: mild sexual content, manipulation

Dividers ✦ word count: 4.3k art

“Out of all the women in this world, the moment you come back, you go after me.” Your eyes were dead and your voice held no sign of happiness; only resentment. The person you had been talking to was enveloped in the moonlight but their face was concealed by darkness. You only stood there, not trying to show how afraid you were being in a strange place, surrounded by strange people. It was hot and the air was unbearably dry during the day and at night, the cold was bitter and it absorbed any sort of warmth your vampire body could produce. “The reason is that I don’t want other women. It’s been so long. I thought you’d be more excited to see your beloved.” Dio, finally, took a step forward. You took a step back. “Don’t come near me.” Your eyes were glossy with tears. You hated his voice. It was just like the night he first took you. He killed people. He made you feel bad for it. He threatened to kill more people if you resisted him. You didn’t even have a chance to run from him. 

“Why not? I want to see how your beauty has come to last over 100 years.” Dio walked into the moonlight. His appearance was properly revealed to you. He looked exactly the same but…different. Your memory of the past was fuzzy but he looked slightly taller. His neck had a nasty scar as well. “You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” His cold hands rose slowly. It was like he himself was unable to comprehend you in front of him. Over and over while in that coffin, he imagined you. He imagined what you felt like, what you sounded like, what would you say to him? For so long.

Dio saw you grimace as his fingertips touched your jawline. They felt up to the back of your neck where your hair was. Your hair was extremely soft and your scent was like a drug. Having your face in his palms was the same as having a drink of water in the middle of the desert. “How did you come back…?” Your hands gripped his and you removed them from your skin. Dio showed resistance; not allowing you to reject him as such. “I believe it’s best to spare you the details. The last thing I want is to make my woman cry.”

“I’m not your woman.” 

You expected Dio to show his anger and lash out but…

“In time, you will be. I don’t mind waiting for you at all.” He gave you a smile of satisfaction as he broke free from your grasp. “I’ve learned what it means to be patient, especially with you. I have a gift.” Dio backed away from you, into the darkness. Not even you could see him once he was able to erase himself.

“Enyaba, please, bring in the dress you were so kind to craft for your Goddess.” 

Dress? Another dress?

The imagery of events from long ago flooded your brain. You laid your eyes upon the dress for the first time, seeing it in its full glory. It was red. That night. Those deaths. Jonathan’s death.

Your husband emerged again. You finally remembered that you two did in fact marry. Next to him was a short old woman. Her face was aged from the sun and she held your dress with two right hands. “This is for you, Lady (y/n). Lord Dio has blessed me with the chance to bring you this offering!” The elderly woman trembled as if she were about to collapse.

“Take it.” Dio commanded. “If you’d rather not, I’ll just kill her and fetch the next seamstress to make you another.” When he examined your face, he couldn’t help but smirk. This time he would properly coerce you into being his forever wife. One that would express her love without him asking her to. Without another moment to spare, you took the dress from Enyaba. The silk and fabric were native to Egypt. The lace was intricate and thin. You could easily tell it was made for Dio’s amusement.

“Try it on.”

Your heart sank. This man only knew how to go on and on; dragging things out and pushing the boundaries.

“Enyaba, I’m afraid you’re no longer needed. No one is allowed to see the unclothed body of what’s mine.” Dio’s eyes swayed to the right before looking upward. “No one except for me, of course.” 

“Y-Yes, Lord Dio!” Enyaba scurried off, quickly making it as if she weren’t there. “Oh, and fetch the arrow for me as well!” Dio called out to the woman who seemed to be long gone. “I’d like to use it.” He then narrowed his eyes at you with a smirk plastered across his face.

While young, Dio may not have been the best gentleman but he had patience and respect for the girl he crushed on. Up until this point, he had never seen your naked body. Even while in his stolen castle 100 years ago, he respected you in that manner. Things are different now. He deserved this. “Here, let me assist you-“

“Don’t touch me.” You muttered, stepping away. Your eyes held a particular kind of fire. One he had never seen before. He was glad your spirits were beginning to rise. No matter how much you’d fight, he wouldn’t break. It would be easy to convert you once you were tired. “And why not?” Dio questioned, the corners of his lips remaining upturned. Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I know how you lived.”

“Oh?”

“When Jonathan…killed you…” You swallowed in between your words. Hatred for your own intelligence began to fill your body, as you made sense of the situation. “…y-your head wasn’t destroyed. I saw you fall.”

Dio hummed, taking a seat in the nearby chair. “Yes, go on. The fall was rather painful.” He leaned back, making that chair his throne.

“But you never actually died. You came back the night Erina and Jonathan left for America. Erina wrote to me about you.” As you spoke, you gained your bearings, no longer feeling nervous about the words coming out of your mouth. “That birthmark on your back. The one shaped perfectly like a Star. Only Jonathan had that. I saw it when he collapsed in my arms after he first defeated you.”

“Does it anger you? I thought you would be more excited that your love went to such great lengths to see you again.” Dio’s smirk faded. He may have had more control over his emotions now but jealousy was something that he was unable to grow from. “You’re such a monster.” You cried silently. You closed your eyes, imagining what could’ve been Jonathan’s last moments.

Jonathan died protecting me. Now, I’m alone.

“Erina…” You whispered to yourself. You clutched the dress. Any harder would’ve damaged the article of clothing.

“We won’t speak anymore of Jonathan-“

“He was my friend!”

“If you couldn’t tell, my dear. I am trying to be patient with you. The love between a married couple is like a plant. It must be nourished or it will die.”

You shook your head. “I can’t be in love with a monster. Ever since that day at the apple tree…you’ve never been the same.” Dio chuckled before resting his hand on his palm. “You mean the day you abandoned me because of lies told to you by the wench, Erina?”

You gasped. Clenching your jaw, you took a large step towards Dio. You raised your hand, ready to strike this man across his face again until he caught your wrist inches before your hand made contact. “No. Not again.” Dio took you by your wrist and pulled you towards him, into his arms. He held you on his lap, taking in your scent as it brought him great comfort. “So quick to defend the honor of someone who owned you.”

“Erina didn’t own me. She was my friend!” You pushed against his chest but he refused to let you go. “Friend?” Dio repeated. “She was your friend but she still treated you as property. That girl never lifted a finger to do anything, did she? Why is that? Because her parents employed you too.”

“Dio!” You fought against him, trying to release yourself from his grasp. Tired of your flailing, his grip grew tighter. “But in order to be employed, you’d need to be paid, correct? Tell me, how much did you make playing house as the Pendleton maid?”

When you thought about it, you never really got paid anything. You worked for the Pendleton’s to make up for them taking you and your mother off of the street. “I-I…I didn’t make anything.” More tears left your eyes.

“Not a thing?!” Dio pretended to be surprised. “My own wife lived a childhood of indentured servitude to someone who she still sees as her friend? If Erina were your friend, why didn’t she give you the last name ‘Pendleton’, Hm?” His breath was warm against the skin of your neck as he held you close. “You would’ve been a noble woman but she chose to keep you where you were.”

“Dio, stop.” You resisted once more, finally making Dio let go of your wrist. His free hand wiped the tears from your face and his smirk faded. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be the one who uplifts and shows you that you’re worth so much more than what the world gives you.”

There was really no way of escaping Dio, was there? Not like this. You wanted to love him but the fact that he has killed many and would kill many more at the drop of a hat to get what he wants. That’s truly unlovable. Yet, you needed to adapt. Perhaps, if you began to play your part, you would find a means of escape or a way of stopping him.

“I said stop, Dio.” You removed yourself from his lap. “I need you to leave so that I can…change.”

Dio folded his hands in his lap. “And why would I do that? We are married.” He then made himself comfortable again, resting his head on his other palm. “Clothes of commoners shouldn’t ever touch your skin.”

A show is what Dio wants? Fine. You’ll give him a show.

Slowly, you began to remove your garments. It was probably better to wear the new dress right away. Dio’s hungry eyes never left your body. You barely got them off before you heard his voice cut the silence like a hot knife. 

“Come.” He beckoned you to come towards him. His pupils dilated. This was truly his first time seeing you naked. He needed to contain himself. “What is it?�� You covered yourself with your arms and hands. There wasn’t really much that you could cover this way. You walked toward Dio, just out of his reach. His hand snaked up the thicker part of your thigh, pulling you closer. He spun you around and began to inspect you accordingly.

You felt his fingertips roam your backside. “I see you’ve been feeding yourself well.” He teased you, kneading your plump flesh and his palms.

“Dio!” You swatted his hands away before swaying your hips out of his reach. With unnatural speed, Dio’s hands found your hips. He pulled you down onto his pelvis. “And just where do you think you’re going? I don’t remember giving you permission to leave.”

“Permission?” You repeated. It was pretty apparent that Dio was needy but the timing…was ridiculous.

“As children, I’ve never thought of something like this but even then I knew it was you I wanted. We should be able to enjoy this happy reunion.” 

Your body began to heat up from this contact. Before all of this, you did dream of what it was like to commit such acts with Dio. Even during those years you ignored him but befriended his family. The scandalous idea of having relations with a handsome man you’ve previously had a falling out with. 

That was years ago. Now, you didn’t know how to feel. The body he was trying to seduce you with wasn’t his…

“We can’t. Not now. This is wrong.” You practically leap out of Dio's grasp. “Your body isn’t-“

“IT'S MINE NOW!” Dio shouted, visibly startling you. His face held a strong look of disapproval as he tried hiding it in the shadow. He was still one to lash out.

You swallowed before firming your voice. There was no way you would let him intimidate you. “Not. Now.” You stepped into the dress. It hugged your curves and felt much more comfortable than your previous attire. You’d never admit that.

“Fine. I will allow you to adjust. But a good woman knows not to reject her husband’s advances.” Dio rose from his chair. He could hear Enyaba’s footsteps approaching.

“Then I’m not a good woman.”

A second of silence passed before Dio let out a deep and velvety laugh. “So amusing. You’re only making me more eager to claim you as my own.” 

“I-I’ve returned, Lord Dio.” The elderly woman, out of breath yet again, entered the room with a particular-looking arrow. She had a bow as well. “Good job, Enyaba. I knew I could always count on you.” Dio took the items from her. “You may go.”

“What is that?” You eyed the arrow from a distance. It gave you goosebumps. The unpleasant kind. “Oh, this? A gift.” Dio smirked to himself, readying the arrow accordingly. You hadn’t noticed what he was doing at first. You tried to get the dress to fit better. It was rather tight. It was too late when you noticed that he was aiming it at-

“(y/n).”

You.

A searing pain of intense heat filled your body, the source of it being your heart. Dio let the arrow flew from it’s bow. You were in so much shock that you couldn’t scream. You fumbled over your words and lost the ability to stand. “D-Dio, h-how could y…”

You fell to your knees. Your body was numbing. This arrow wasn’t normal! 

“She’s not ready, Lord Dio!!” Enyaba screamed. “Th-The arrow will kill her!”

“The arrow can’t kill her.” He muttered lowly. “It’s painful but I know she can take it. She will live…she must.” He then slowly strode over to you, knelt down and consoled you as you fought for your life on the ground. The means were extreme but he vowed to himself that by the end of this you would be just like him.

You ended up passing out from the pain. The power of the arrow was still new to Dio. A puzzled look washed over his face when you stopped moving. The first thing he did was lift your torso before pressing his ear to your chest. 

Thump!

Thump!

You were still alive.

Dio smirked deeply and picked you up bridal style. “Enyaba, I’ll be off now.” 

The vampire man took you to his chamber, getting dressed for the occasion. He had a special outfit made. It was something he had been waiting a few days for. While spending time at the bottom of the sea, one of the things Dio regretted was not being fashionable for his role as a God. It was such a short time, he didn’t have any means of preparing for such a role. Now, he did. He had all the time in the world. 

The yellow fabric, the heart-shaped knee pads, the golden-colored shoes with curved tips. It was perfect for him. Dio barely got it on before he noticed you twitching. That meant you were beginning to wake up. It was clear that stress wasn’t your thing. You passed out from the pain of the mask as well.

“D-Dio…?” Your voice was small but he heard you well. You sat up, taking in the scenery around you. The moon was still as bright as ever. The room was lit well with candles too. 

“Yes, my love?”

“Why did you…shoot me? What did you do to me? What happened?” You hissed, not able to control the way you balled up your fists. “A gave you a gift. Something you’d cherish forever.” Dio turned to face you. He had a sickly smile on his face that reached his eyes. This made you upset. “What is it?” You questioned, unknowingly giving Dio joy with your feistiness. 

A humanoid figure emerged from Dio. It had a color scheme that aligned with his clothes, but it didn’t look like him at all. It had a familiar aura as well.

Dio examined your face. “Hm. So you can see it now.” 

The being floated over to you, touching you as if it were Dio himself. It seemed rather…interested in you.

“You have one of these too, you see? You must wield its power.” The stand held your shoulders, making talking motions except only Dio’s voice was coming out.

He told you everything he knew about stands, even teaching you how to manifest your own. This felt very different from the first time you spent with Dio. Yes, he still forced his own Will onto you, as he did before. It hurt. It was painful but…not enough for you to cry. Even in shock, you didn’t feel too afraid. Stands were like magic, somehow. You couldn’t understand and even with Dio’s further explanation, you didn’t know how Stands came to be. 

“When Enyaba came to me, she explained to me that if I trained my own Stand, The World, then I would be able to become God of this world.” Dio paced back and forth before eventually going to the balcony. “All that’s left is to put a baby in your belly. It would certainly secure my legacy.” Dio chuckled deeply. You raised your hand to your stomach and pressed on it softly. How far would you need to go with Dio to please him? To protect those who didn’t stand a chance against a vampire? A vampire who now had some humanoid creature that could touch you without you seeing it or even having one of your own? You’ve had enough experience with men but Dio has always been a wild card in every part of your life.

“Why a baby? What legacy? What is it that you plan to do?” You asked your questions, shifting your tone so that Dio could feel more at ease with you. You followed him out to the balcony. “Is this your way of asking to start a family…?” You barely got to finish your sentence when Dio let out a hardy laugh. Once that probably could be heard throughout Cairo. 

“‘Start a family?’” He repeated. “I guess that’s one way to put it. “I was thinking more of wanting to…destroy the last of the Joestar bloodline.”

Your eyes widened. “Wh-What?” You stepped away but Dio grabbed your lingering hand. You were still having whiplash from the different revelations. Dio was alive as a severed head on the body of a friend, you were given a stand, Dio wanted a child and now he wants to destroy what remains of Jonathan’s legacy.

“Why? They haven’t done anything to you. Don’t tell me you hate your brother-“ You stopped when Dio’s grip tightened on you. 

“He isn’t my brother,” Dio growled at you and showed his sharp teeth. But you’ve known him long enough.

“He is your brother.”

Dio’s eyes narrowed at you before he closed them. His forehead softened before he decided to open his eyes again. He gave you a soft smile. One to put you at ease. He may not have been smart for revealing his plans so soon. Now, it would surely be hard to get you to cooperate.

“Perhaps, he is. I did have my issues with him. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at you.” Dio was gentle when he pulled you close. He nuzzled into the flesh of your neck, taking in the scent of your body again. “I wanted to believe it was my imagination.”

You scoffed. “You’re still on about that?” 

Dio just ignored your statement. “But, Jonathan is no more and here I stand. He was kind to you and he’s been kind once more by allowing us to be together. Like this.” You felt his body relax into yours, almost dropping his dead weight onto you. He was very big and heavy. “I’ve always wondered what our kids would look like. Would you really be one to deprive me of that?”

“If I consent to this then I want you to leave the Joestars alone.”  

The room held a brief moment of silence. You know Dio didn’t like being told what to do by anyone. You knew this and you couldn’t even see the face of twisted anger he was making as he held you. “Is that all?” Dio asked in a smooth tone, his voice not at all matching his visage. He rubbed your back tenderly. 

“Y-Yes?”

“Good.”

Dio swept you off of your feet, bringing you to his bed in an instant. It took everything out of him to just not crawl on top of you and ravage right then and there. This is something that’s been on his mind for years on end. Did you stay a virgin the whole time he was away? No. That’s not something he wanted to think of right now. All that mattered was that you were here now, giving it to him.

Now, should he remove his clothes or keep them on?

“U-Um, Dio…”

Oh, he’ll just remove his shirt. He wants to feel your hands on his body as you cling to him.

“…we’ve never…actually done this.” You felt the pit of anxiety growing in your tummy. Being intimate…with Dio. The man was already able to tell you had such little experience. That’s okay. You didn’t need any. If anything, he preferred that you didn’t know how to do a thing. There was nothing more pure or innocent than that.

Dio topped you, slipping his hand up your dress to part your thighs. He closed the distance and placed kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. His mouth latched onto the supple flesh of your neck. You could feel the way his teeth played at your skin, nipping it and drawing blood from you. You eased into his touch, beginning to relax your body just a bit. The butterflies in your stomach became present as your face began to heat up. He was surprisingly…gentle. Even with the hickeys he left on your skin, they didn’t hurt. It tickled, almost. 

Suddenly, removed himself from your neck. You instinctively raised your hand to the marks he created. No piece of clothing in Egypt would be able to hide it due to where it was. He wanted people to know. Dio pulled you forward by your thighs, almost startling you at his eagerness. You mewled at his fingers rubbing between your folds.

“I’ve barely touched you and it seems that you already have trouble keeping quiet.” Dio chuckled darkly before inserting one of his clawed fingers into your cunt. “You’ve never been with a man like this before, have you?” A wide grin covered his face.

You grunted softly. You held a lewd expression; one that Dio would revel in for a lifetime. “Your face says it all.” Dio extracted his finger. If you acted like this from only one, he can only imagine how you’d be with all of his length inside. He spread your legs even more. He lowered his head down into your crouch. You felt his tongue fill your hole. His lips sucked on your folds, consuming the juices that would flow out. 

Your core began to heat up. You didn’t believe Dio was capable of such things. “Dio, please.” You cried, trying your best to move your legs but they didn’t budge. Your husband’s grip on your thighs was too strong. 

“Please, what?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Don’t make me beg.” You clenched your jaw at his contact. “Oh, I will make you beg.” Dio replied. “Tell me that you want me.”

Then you felt something…something else. He took out his cock, pressing its leaking tip into your sleek folds. He wouldn’t enter until you worshiped him the way he’s always desired.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Dio-“

“Lord Dio.”

Dio secured his hand around your throat. His fingertips pressed against your skin, his claws tangled in your hair. There was no way you’d get away from him. If you were a human still, he’d be able to end your life before you could even understand what was happening. He appreciated that.

You blushed, averting your eyes before giving him what he wanted yet again. “L-Lord Dio.”

Good.

“And this is why you’re perfect for me.” 

Dio didn’t waste any more time waiting. He pushed into you, filling you with all of his length, going in with ease. Without warning, he began his strokes. “Much tighter than I imagined.” He just watched in self-satisfaction as you bucked your hips and moaned those pretty sounds. He enjoyed the feeling of you finally submitting, even if it were for the sake of the Joestars. A win is a win.

And it felt good.

It was such a pity that he would need to lie to you from now on, but once the Joestar bloodline was completely erased, white lies wouldn’t matter.

Dio bred you well, fucking his cum into you once he was fully satisfied with your activities. He would make sure you carried any children you’d ever have. He silenced your soft moans with a sweet kiss. Not only are you his wife and soon-to-be mother of his children, but he also wants to make you just like him. You would be an expert at seduction, enacting violence whenever you please, and become a being of lust that he could use whenever he pleased. You would become his idea of what it meant to be the red goddess.

taglist: @z3r0art ♡

[seatbythevampyre]

I am so happy to find another Bowie blog! Can I request a fic for Davida between his Hours era? Like he is reader's teacher who is around 28-30 and they like each other and theres tension but you know, keep it profesional because university, but fluffly pls. You can decide either if is smutty or suggestive. Just recently got into him and I completely fell in love with 90s Bowie😔 Thank you luv! ♡

Sorry this took so long I’ve been overwhelmed with all the requests I thought I’d only get one or two 😭. And I LOVE THIS. ABSOLUTELY! Welcome to the fandom and hope you enjoy!

TWS: None, CUTE AND FLUFFY, possibly suggestive at times😋

Teacher!Bowie : You’re officially in your second year of college. You’re an art major, eager for your first day of class. Also I’m just gonna use David Bowie instead of his real name for this one lol.

(There will be a part 2 bc this got LONG.)

Break was over, not that it made much of a difference to you. You didn’t have a family or friends to visit over the summer months so you just stayed in your apartment on campus. The only times you went out was to get groceries or go for a hike- typically at night. You loved night time. It wasn’t the darkness that enthralled you so, but the opposite. That little sliver of light emerging from the darkness was what inspired you.

Tonight was one of those nights you were walking through the gardens on campus. No one was outside at this hour, and that was exactly how you liked it. You looked up at the stars as you walked. Nothing could ever make you feel like looking at the night sky made you feel.

So you walked until you turned around a tall hedge to make your way to the bench you always sat at. You halted. Someone’s in my spot. But it wasn’t someone you’d ever seen before. No, this man looked far too…mature…to be a student here. You peered out from behind the hedge and watched the man. His hair was orange. Not quite fiery, but he was certainly hot. The stubble and scruff on his face only accentuated his godlike jawline. You gasped and ducked back completely behind the bush when he turned his head in your direction. You couldn’t see, but there was a smirk on his face. Thinking he hadn’t seen, you peeked out again. He pretends to be oblivious.

It was then that you took a moment to truly look at him. Whoever this stranger was, bathed in moonlight, had stolen your attention from the one thing that always had it. The stars.

THE NEXT MORNING

After that night, you didn’t get much sleep. The beautiful stranger plagued your mind. You were sure you’d never see him again, and that’s what you were up all night making peace with. So with an hour and a half of sleep under your belt, you got up and threw on a white cropped muscle tanktop and some high waisted baggy jeans. After putting on a zip up hoodie and pair of old boots, you were off. All thoughts of the mysterious starman you’d seen last night were shoved to the side, you were excited for your first day of art this semester. The only thing you were worried about was having a new professor, though all of your professors liked you. It took time for you to warm up to others. You weren’t paranoid, just simply cautious.

You sighed as you walked into the full classroom and saw that the only available seat was directly next to the professors desk…but they were nowhere to be seen. You hated sitting anywhere other than the back but that’s what you get for being late. A good five minutes passed until the door flew open, and in walked the man who’d stolen your bench and your attention last night. Fuck…he was even more beautiful up close. But of course he was. Because that’s just your luck. Of course he was.

You looked down at your hands as you tapped them on the desk. Luckily you had your hood up. There was absolutely no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Oh god, how were you supposed to properly function in this class? You looked up after a few seconds, assuming coast would be clear. But you were met with something far more frustrating than just catching his eye… He was smirking down at you, with his crotch sitting eye level. You quickly looked up at his face, deciding it was better than staring directly at his very impressive bulge. When you met his eyes you couldn’t seem to form words. You did try, but only a shaky breath came out. His eyes lingered on yours for another moment before he stepped back from your desk and faced the rest of the class. You could’ve sworn his eyes were two different colors and sizes.

“Hello class, my name is David Bowie. I’m not big on formalities so…” His eyes flicked to meet yours for a fleeting moment. “Call me by whatever pleases you. Within reason, of course.” If you thought you were fascinated with this man last night, it had nothing on how you felt right now. His features were strong…unique. And the way he moved reminded you of the moon gently pulling at the waves…the movement of his arms as he spoke were like the night time tides lapping at the shore. You were too deep in thought to notice he’d stopped talking and was writing on the chalkboard.

“For your first week…” He mumbled as he scrawled out whatever you want on the board. “Whatever you want. Any medium, any style. But…you’ll all be assigned a muse.” He sat the chalk down on the ledge and moved to sit on the edge of his desk. He sighed as he looked out at everyone. “No one’s going to ask me what that means?” David said half defeated. It seemed he liked hearing himself talk. And you liked it too.

“So, you’re going to assign us an artist or?” You spoke up.

He bowed his head slightly and smiled at you, “Thank you for asking, darling but no! I will be assigning you a person. I already have, actually.” He turned around and grabbed the stack of papers on his desk and began passing them out, starting with you first. “This list will tell you who you’ve been assigned to. Todays entire class, you’ll be with your partner getting to know them. And tomorrow, you will draft ideas for your piece. Sound good?” There were silent nods and some faint mumbles scattered around. Your eyes scanned the paper, you couldn’t see your anywhere.

“Excuse me, I don’t see my name.” You spoke up and he walked next to your desk and crouched down, deliciously close.

“Oh, that’s right there isn’t an even amount of students so one person gets to deal with me for a whole class.” He flashed a toothy grin and stood up, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit next to you. Everyone else had paired off, so now his focus was completely on you. Shit.

“Th-that’s fine…uhm so…tell me about yourse-“ But he cut you off.

“What’s your name?” You we’re right, his eyes were two different colors. His eyes were piercing, almost cold. His one oversized pupil seemed to stare right through you. Your face was burning red, but you removed your hood out of respect.

“You already know. It’s on the paper.” You tiled your head and watched as that mischievous smile worked its way back onto his face.

“I know, but that means nothing. Not if we’re getting to know each other. It’s proper to introduce yourself. I want you to introduce yourself.” His voice seemed laced with a sultry tone as he spoke the last sentence. His voice was commanding, though he wasn’t demanding you to do anything.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, er..uhm…sir.” Though he said he wasn’t much for formalities, you were. And you couldn’t imagine calling your professor by their name. Especially not him…you didn’t want to become attached. You had a tendency to do that pretty easily. To your shock, his cheeks went red.

“Sir? God, you’ll make me feel old…but it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He took your hand In his and gave you a firm handshake. David’s eyes lingered on your lips, causing his hand to linger on yours just a moment too long to be professional. He then cleared his throat and retracted his hand.

“You too…It’s nice to meet you, I mean. Ugh, God I’m hopeless…let’s just start this I guess.” You laughed a bit and looked away, “I’m horrible with people, I’m sorry. I don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean? We’ve already started….Y/N? Turn around and look at me.” Usually, such a demand would make you break down and cry. But his voice wasn’t harsh, it was like he was begging you to look at him. He was letting you know that you were safe with him.

“I’m sorry,” You faced him again and locked eyes. You made it a point to study his eyes and the rest of his face for a few moments. “Do you like space?” You asked abruptly. He grinned.

“You watched me star gazing last night. I saw. I was waiting for you to come and join me but you just hid.” He laughed a bit and leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t actually talked to anyone here yet. None of the staff either…besides who hired me.” David pulls a chain out of his coat pocket, and attached to it is a little jar. He placed it in front of you on the desk.

“What’s this?” You picked it up and held it close to your face as you examined it.

“Moon dust! Well, that’s what the man who worked at the tourist trap I got it at said.” He laughed, “Spent $50 on that bloody thing in the middle of the Arizona desert.”

You smiled, finally calmed down a bit. You felt comfortable with him. He was comfortable. You went to hand it back, but he took your hand into both of his big ones and closed it around the necklace. “It’s yours.” He said with a grin. You just shook your head.

“I can’t take this from you…” You felt yourself getting emotional at how gentle he was being with you. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d touched another human. God, you did not want to cry right now. But he was pushing it.

“It would be rude of you not to. I want you to take it. Please, love. It’s the least I can do for stealing your bench.” You held onto the necklace tight as you stood up. There was no way you were ging to let him see you cry over something to trivial.

“I have to use the bathroom,” you said softly, biting the inside of your cheek. The concern in his eyes only drove you further to let yourself unravel. You turned and bolted out of the classroom, leaving your bag behind.

Somehow, you managed to make it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall before breaking down. You leaned up against the side of the stall and cried while holding the necklace close to your heart.

Having heard the bustle of people in the hallway, you assumed you’d been in there crying for 20 mixtures. Fuck. You were going to have to go get your stuff and be alone with him After taking a deep breath and cleaning your makeup up in the mirror to wash away the evidence, you started the short walk back to his class. The door was closed, so you knocked softly. He told you to enter almost immediately. As you stepped in, he put down the passers he was looking at and stood up.

“Christ, Y/N, I was worried about you. What happened? Are you sick, do you need anything?” He walked briskly towards you and placed a hand on your forehead to check your temperature. “You’re a bit hot.” His worried expression threatened to break into a smirk and you could tell.

“I’m fine…I’m okay I promise.” You WANTED to say yeah my face is hot because you’re touching me but you decided against it. You slowly moved away to grab your bag and head out but he grabbed your wrist.

“We still have another 30 minutes left of today’s lesson,” He said and smiled, “I’ll order some food after.” You nodded and sat at your desk and he sat at his. He pulled out a book and started flipping through it. You blushed when he looked over and noticed you watching him. He motioned for you to come sit next to him so you moved your chair over next to his.

“Let me read something to you…” He continued, “I pray you, sweetheart, counsel me whether it is better for a man to speak or die?" He looked at you from above his reading glasses.

“The Tales Of Heptameron. One of my favorites.” You we’re still rolling around the necklace in your hands.

“I knew you had good taste. Here..” he held his hand out for the necklace and you gave it to him. David stood up behind you and clasped the necklace. “So what do you think?” He asked and loomed over your shoulders. You looked back and up at him.

“The necklace? I love it, David. It’s very sweet of you…”

“No, silly. The question left hanging in the air. Is it better to speak or to die?“ it was a question you pondered more often than you’d admit. He sat back in his seat and watched you as you thought our your answer.

“Speak. Of course I think it’s better to speak. But personally, I’d rather die.” This earned a chuckle from David which made your heart flutter. “People often know the best choice but go along with the wrong one anyway. Usually, it’s easier. It’s less terrifying.” You noticed he was staring at you. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyebrows slightly arched. “I’m not good at answering questions simply.”

David’s mouth curved up into a smile, “Absolutely beautiful. Don’t ever apologize for talking. I like the way you speak.” You turned completely towards him.

“In this story, the knight will speak. David, I’m sorry I ran out of class earlier. I can’t remember the last time anyone’s been so gentle with me…I can’t remember the last time I ever even touched someone else.” You looked into his beautiful eyes warily. He reached a hand out to cup your cheek.

“Y/N, my dove. You are a wonderful soul. Come here,” He pulled you into his lap and held you. That was all it took for you to collapse into his arms and cry. “Poor thing. It’s alright. You don’t have to fake any emotions with me, or hide anything from me. I see a lot of myself in you…” You sniffled and sat up to look at him. David wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Excuse me if I’m overstepping but you don’t have anyone to be there for you, do you? I don’t either…”

You shook your head and wiped your face dry with your sleeves, now aware that you were sat in his lap. Your face heated up and you warily lifted a hand to play with his hair. “Are you sure we should be…umm..” You looked over at the door.

He faked a gasp and grabbed your waist with both hands, “Do you think something nefarious is going on here, little one? Naughty.” He tickled you softly which caused you to flail around.

“David! Hey!” You giggled and smacked his chest playfully.

“See! That’s good, that’s what I want to see. Big smiles.” David said and pinched your cheek.

You leaned against his chest, surprised to feel his heart thumping as hard as yours was. “Yeah, yeah…now how about that food?”

Pt 2 soon :)

[flightyquinn]

AI Haters, Please Read to the End

I see people celebrating every time something bad happens in the AI art world, and that makes me very sad. Because I am partially colorblind, and have ADHD, clinical depression, and other health issues that I'm less comfortable talking about. Because I can't work, and rely on family for housing and government assistance to afford essentials. For someone like me, the barrier to entry on art is high. I'm never going to own a drawing tablet, I can't get professional lessons, my focus sucks to the point where it's hard to follow tutorials no matter how much I want to, and even if all of that could be sorted, my own eyes are against me.

But I still have ideas. I still have pictures in my head that want to get out. Characters that want faces, scenes that want to be expressed, and the like. I'm still creative. I just can't properly express that creativity. Nor can I pay someone else to express it for me. However, I can tell an AI what I'm trying to depict. I can tweak the settings, make small changes, spend hours on end generating and re-generating, tweaking and re-tweaking, and making small edits that are within my power to do, until I have a picture that satisfies my need to bring the thing in my head to life. That's not "stealing". It's not pushing a button and letting the computer do the work for me. That's me having my own ideas, and trying to use the tools at my disposal to turn them into something that other people can see.

Plus, there's one other thing I can do. This is a picture I generated with AI that I'm actually quite proud of.

And do you know why? Because it started as this.

I fed my terrible MSPaint rough as hell doodle into an AI, and told it what the picture was supposed to be. And I tried again, and again, and again, until I was able to refine the result into something that I was happy with - which took a whole lot more than just pressing the button again, let me tell you.

This is my idea, from start to finish, and my shitty art became something that actually looks halfway decent. Yeah, I'm aware of the wonkiness and AI jank. I know the jawline's weird, his eyes don't match, and there's something up with his ear. It's not perfect, but it's a whole lot better than what I could do on my own.

Look, when it comes to stopping the commercialization of AI art, I'm right there with you guys. Fuck corporations that want to replace their whole art department. Fuck people who want to impersonate other artists, or take commissions to turn someone's description of what they want into a prompt. Hell, fuck the people who take the first result they're given without trying to refine it at all!

However, I don't want AI to die. AI is an accessibility option. AI is a tool that lets me go from saying for years, "I wish I could have art of my first D&D character, I have so many fond memories of him." to having that one picture. It lets me stop stealing every time I want a character portrait for a new TTRPG that I'm starting up. Because you know what? I don't have the ability to be a "real artist", and I never will. There's too many barriers for entry.

...and my situation is mild compared to what some people have to deal with. Sure, there are people who find ways to make traditional art despite disabilities, but that's an exception. It could be the rule. Why shouldn't it be?

As far as "theft" goes, I have yet to hear one explanation of why it's okay to use references, but not AI, that didn't boil down to "it's different when we do it". And what about collage? Is a collage art, or is it "theft?" What about sculptural works that use reclaimed objects? They didn't create that. They just decided how it would be arranged. Hell, what about pieces like "The Fountain" for that matter? That's a big problem I have with all this hate. If you applied the same standards to other things as to AI, then there's a lot of things that currently are art we'd have to say aren't any more.

If you have a problem with AI, why not work to make it better, instead of trying to deprive people who rely on it for self-expression of a creative outlet?

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Three

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 10k

Tags/warnings: simp poe, exhausted leia, (those may as well be permanent tags), the meet cute, Poe giving oc an existential crisis with his jawline alone, flirting, attempted x-wing race, ego's, rizzpoe, resistance command having a panic attack, mentions of war crimes/systematic kidnapping and indoctrination of children, trauma, first half is sexual tension second half is angst. Leia trying her best to be a good parent to a traumatised child. They will make up I promise.

All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

A/N: I have three chapters of the prequel published on ao3/wattpad. the story kicks off properly in this chapter.

~

~

~

Hope

By late afternoon the hanger's quiet enough that I can work on my x-wing in peace, which thankfully hasn't been repurposed. Although Mom knows if she ever gave my x-wing to anyone I'd probably blow it up out of spite, and she knows this because I'd threatened as much.

Major Brance ducks in and out of the entrance several times in the hours that pass as I run maintenance, as if ensuring he isn't hallucinating and looking disappointed each time he realises he isn't, speaking with greater levels of panic into his comm each time.

"We had six months of peace after she left and then Dameron was recruited. Now there's two of them," I hear him ranting as he exits the hanger again, thinking I'm out of earshot. "Two of them!"

I can't help but smile to myself a little in intrigue, finding myself growing increasingly curious about this commander who seems to give Brance the same headache as I do. That might just be enough for me to overlook his rank. Almost.

His ship sits on the other side of the hanger, the orange and black paint noticeably standing out from the rest, and I'm chuckling to myself in satisfaction at noticing the paint's been touched up since I called it beaten up. Although now mine is the one that needs a touch up by comparison.

The next time Brance comes in Statura accompanies him and gives me an awkward wave from across the hanger before pulling Brance back out, thankfully that's the last time I see them. 

"Gee R2, you'd think they weren't happy to see me," I remark as I get to work installing the new parts after finishing general maintenance and he beeps at me. "Alright maybe I'm enjoying it a little."

At least my infamy's still feared by high command, even if that doesn't extend to a commander who should very well know exactly who I am. All things considered I should be more concerned by the thought that Mom could arrive here at any moment, but I can put off that anxiety for a little longer. 

My hands are stained with soot and engine oil, but my mind seems to quieten as I tinker. Something I always thought came from my father, until my grandmother's surviving handmaidens told me it also came from my grandfather, among other things. Thankfully with the years I've found some level of acceptance with that fact, even if the memories sharpened with Ben taking the mantle Vader left behind. At least Lando can share my humour at calling him Grandpa Vader even if Mom looked like she wanted to hit me over the head the first time she heard it. And every time afterwards. Turns out dark humour only goes so far.

My mind's focused on the adjustments to the thrusters, transferring over the parts I'd taken off my N-1 at the lakehouse so the modifications are similar, making it far faster than ties and any other navy starfighter. Faster than any other x-wings on base as well. I was tempted to get R2 to pilot the N-1 here for me but considering what I've been using it for I thought it best it stays in storage on Naboo. I'd forgotten how old these x-wings are in comparison to the newer models of ships, my N-1 was average in comparison to the models I grew up flying, but still newer than these. So while some of these parts might be a little overpowered for my neglected x-wing I can make them work, it'll make it highly illegal, but fast. 

Just how I was taught.

At least I don't have to pay to replace the proton torpedo I'd used up now, it might have been a bit overkill considering they're generally used to attack larger capital ships or freighters but I'd always wondered what would happen if I shot them into a bunch of tie-fighters and now I know.

I'm quite content working while talking to R2 until a now slightly familiar voice calls out to me in the empty hanger.

"Need any help up there?"

"No," I answer automatically, too caught up in what I'm doing to take any real notice. R2 chides me for being rude like he isn't worse and I realise Threepio's yet to talk my ear off which means he must be with Mom, wherever she is. "But since you're offering toss me up a wrench will you?"

He chucks it up and I catch it before tightening the last bolt and only then do I recognise the voice. Suppressing a smile I look down and see him standing back, trying to figure out what I'm doing. "Problem? Because I can tell you those parts have too much kick for a T-70."

"That's the point," I reply, swinging my legs over the edge of my ship so I can take him in and find that he immediately recognises me from the stunned look that crosses his face, the look in his eye leaving me pleasantly surprised after all the wary stares of the afternoon. Although I'm more surprised by the immediate effect his face has on me now that I can see it properly. I don't expect to like it as much as I do, pegging him as the type that's ridiculously handsome and knows it, although it's certainly not without reason. "Once I'm done my baby's going to have more engine power than any of the newer models, might need some reinforcements but I'll make it work."

He shakes his head, grinning up at me with white teeth that stand out against the shadow of a beard on his certainly well-chiselled face that reminds me of the statues that adorn Naboo's art museums, but it's his dark eyes that take my attention as he studies the engine and my other modifications, recognising them with equal surprise and respect. "You know those mods are illegal right? The type you can only find in blackmarkets in the Outer Rims."

"I should know since that's where I found them, but considering this is faster than any of the New Republic's ships, and yours, I don't have to worry about that do I?" I smirk a little too proudly and find myself saying. "I see you gave the General my regards."

He looks at my ship and then to his with the slightest jealousy after mine had outrun his in the field and I just smirk to myself from my ship. 

"I did," he says, something about the look in his eye drawing me in. He still doesn't realise I'm her daughter, that much is clear, and so I play coy. "I told you I could put you in touch didn't I? But just a warning, we might be a paramilitary but she doesn't like us breaking too many New Republic regulations."

Oh, he has no idea and I can't help but tease "If you're going to report me for breaking regulations don't bother because she's already given up on me."

"I take it the two of you have some history then?" he gathers and despite the curiosity in his eyes he still doesn't put it together, which means Mom has definitely lied to the Resistance about where I've been for a commander to have no idea who I could be, but I shouldn't expect anything else by now. 

"Let's just say I've done some work for the Resistance, had some disagreements and ended up where you found me," I explain simply, revealing just enough. When I'm used to everyone knowing my name it's almost nice to be a mystery. "So illegal modifications will be the least of her worries."

He makes a surprised sound, running a hand through the almost black curls atop his head. "The General must like you then to let you get away with this type of stuff." He looks me over with slightly nervous eyes before putting on a charming smile. "You must have been stationed on the Raddus because I know I would've definitely remembered meeting you before."

A self-satisfied smile comes to my face at his attempt at flirting and find myself amused, but more surprised by the fact that I don't actually mind it. "I've been on this base far longer than you have commander, you're the one who's new here."

"General recruited me a few months back from the Republic Fleet," he says and my eyes narrow now, wondering how the hell a new recruit could possibly be made a commander when I never was after years of service. But I swear behind his self-confidence there's a sincerity to his words as he says "You know, if you were new to base I was going to offer to show you around."

"Really?" I say, leaning forward from the edge of my ship in intrigue, giving him my full attention as I look him up and down. Somehow only finding more things to like much to my own surprise considering I've never been the type to be partial to a flyboy, or much to men in general.

"What can I say?" he shrugs but the look in his eyes is a little less carefree than what he's trying to portray as he returns the gesture, tongue running over the seam of his lips as he takes me in. Leaving his intentions maybe a little less innocent than his sincerity. "You're a hell of a pilot, one of the best I've ever seen. You left an impression to say the least."

I can't help but feel warmth come to my face at the look in his eyes that I've never quite seen in anyone else's and turn my head, not knowing whether to be frustrated he's actually having an effect on me or flattered I have a commander standing here flirting with me, but I do like the attention. As for flattery well... that's something I've always received little of.

So maybe I'm being a little bit of an asshole, but I genuinely don't know how to do anything but rebuff him considering it's second nature by now. "What was your name again?"

I remember it, but I want to see how he reacts to his ego being bruised. Somehow he's not put off and just challenges "You know now I think of it you still haven't given me yours."

Wanting to get a little closer I hop down from my ship to find that he has half a foot on me, maybe a little more although it's not exactly hard when I inherited my mother's height. His face is closer now and somehow even more striking up close much to my frustration, a problem I've never had before or at least not to this degree. The sudden proximity leaves me a little more bashful than I'd anticipated but I may as well enjoy the moment considering it'll be over once he learns my name, for a multitude of reasons.

"You can call me Captain," I state. I might have had that title stripped away with every other privilege I had when I was grounded but if she wants me back she's going to have to make compromises.

"Captain?" he repeats back in surprise but respects it. "Alright Captain..." he trails off for a moment, considering his options but inevitably deciding to go with one of the riskier ones. "How long have you been away from base for?"

"Almost a year," I answer, curious to see if that leads him down any trail of thought but he doesn't seem to be using his head to think, although unfortunately for me that face makes up for it. He's older, late twenties,  a man who clearly takes pride in his appearance judging by his hair. Again, he has good reason too and even more unfortunately I'm too susceptible to that damn face. 

"Then let me give you a tour of the new and improved facilities," he begins before changing tactics, his voice deepening slightly as he leans closer. "Or I could take you out to a spot just outside base with a clear view of a constellation I think you'd like, and maybe by the time we make our way back you'll like me enough to be on a first name basis." His eyes are kind, but there's a mischief behind them that draws me right in. "If that's alright with you?"

It takes me a moment to register what he's saying let alone asking, and when I do I'm convinced that surely I've misheard him or definitely misinterpreted his words. But his interest is something I definitely I haven't misread, intentions are another matter, but this... this was the last thing I'd prepared myself for when I returned to base. I've had passes made at me sure, but certainly never this.

It leaves me speechless for a moment longer than I'd like, but I manage to quickly regain myself and my dignity. I've been back here for five minutes and I'm blushing over some flyboy's pickup line, a flyboy who holds the rank I'd sought for longer than he's been a part of the Resistance. 

Oh no this, whatever it is I'm feeling, this won't do.

"Alright commander," I say, making sure whatever happens next is on my terms. "I'll consider it, but first how about you show me what you've got and finish what we started in the field."

"What I've got?" he repeats as I look at the x-wings. "Sweetheart you're speaking to one of the best pilots in the galaxy."

"Sweetheart?" I repeat and actually laugh knowing it didn't end well for the last guy that tried to call me that, and he momentarily panics before seeing the glint in my eye, only more determined to put him in his place before I can consider maybe, just maybe, taking him up on his offer. "Alright then flyboy, get that ass in an x-wing and prove it."

He's tempted, tongue running across the seam of his lips as he leans down and crosses his arms over his chest. "As much as I'd love to do that, I don't want to get put on probation in my first few months and neither should you."

I whistle, taking pleasure in taunting him. "I got the big ego part right but I didn't take you for a pussy."

Now I've got him. "Oh no, I'm not a pussy."

I look down at his astromech who beeps at him knowing it's a bad idea, just as R2 gives me a beep of warning to not get myself in trouble but I've already made up my mind and so I look back up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

His dark eyes are locked onto mine with determination and I find a spark in them that's the same as mine. "Really."

Knowing I must have some effect on him I tilt my chin up, smirking as I challenge "Prove it."

I must look like a hot mess after hours of maintenance with my braid falling out and the top of my white blouse unbuttoned and stained with oil, my body's covered in engine grease wiped off my palms and smells like it, but he seems to like that.

And I definitely like his face.

Maybe I was right in coming back to base after all.

"Alright," he agrees, physically closer than I've let anyone come to me in a long time. "But you'll lose."

"Fifty credits," I bet knowing I've certainly returned a lot richer from my exploits, even if most of it's gone into my ship and weapons, and he doubles it.

"Hundred."

"One fifty," I challenge to raise the stakes and see that same restless excitement in his eyes. Pilots, people who live on risks and rushes of adrenaline, they're a disaster waiting to happen when it comes to gambling. "You on?"

"How about this, I win and you let me show you around base," he says, the glint in his eye proving to me he might be more of a worthy opponent than I'd originally taken him for. "You win and you're the one who gets to show me around."

He knows he's got me there, and I'm shaking my head with a stupid smile on my face knowing it too. It's a win-win situation for him although I'm curious to see if it would be the same for me, silently cursing how something in his eyes makes me electric. He might be a flyboy but he's one smooth bastard and I've got to get him back. "Alright then hotshot, first one to circumnavigate the planet's atmosphere and land back here wins."

"Atmosphere?" he repeats, knowing atmospheric flying in one of the more dangerous thrills a pilot could partake in, but he only grins back at me with that spark in his eye. "You're on."

"Let's see what you've got then commander," I say, waiting for him to realise he's screwed with the work I've done on my ship but again, he's thinking with anything but his head, and I tease "Then we'll see about me showing you around."

I'm not the only one with a stupid smile on my face and his eyes follow me as I walk back to my ship. Maybe I'm guilty when it comes to liking the attention, I've had my fair share of it not that I've ever entertained it, but none have ever looked like him or had that spark in their eye. I go to pull the ladder over, considering using the force to leap up might give him a little bit of a shock, and hear him call out "Need a foot up?"

"Piss off," I laugh and he flashes a teasing grin at me that only feeds my own determination. "You know you're going to lose right?"

"Don't worry I'll go easy," he promises as if he's doing me a favour.

I raise an eyebrow, not afraid to pull a dirty card to throw him off his game. "Because I'm a girl?"

"Oh no, no, no," he quickly corrects with a nervous laugh, his momentary panic only confirming that he isn't that type of flyboy. There shouldn't be any of them on base considering who the General is but you never know, I mean she did marry one after all. But still, I find an awful amusement in how quickly he refutes it. "Women are just as capable in a cockpit I can promise you that, but as damn good as you are you haven't seen me in action yet."

"Because I'd taken care of all the action before your slow ass ship could get there," I reply and he's all the more ready to try to show me up and my ego meets his as I smirk. "Don't worry I'll go easy."

The droids beep at each other in question as to whether or not they should get involved as he takes on the challenge, jumping up into his x-wing and I climb into mine, only for another ship to suddenly appear in the atmosphere as our droids get into their respective astromech ports. I blink in confusion at the ship, only to sense her before I begin to register who the ship belongs to. "Shit."

He looks at me as to ask if I'm ready to take off and he flashes a confused look as I give him the fall back gesture and shrink back into the cockpit as the ship lands, seeing the same look of panic on his face when he realises who's caught us.

I'm wearing a guilty smile as Mom comes out of the ship, walking with purpose but stopping in her tracks the moment she senses me, whatever emotion fills her face is quickly replaced with exasperation as she looks up at me, and then to the commander, shaking her head at us both.

"Get out of those x-wings."

The commander panics as we both climb out of the x-wings and I come to stand in front of Mom for the first time in almost a year. She wears the familiar expression of frustration, but thankfully I still see the fondness amongst it. I open my mouth but find myself lost for words as I suddenly clam up. 

"General," Poe stammers beside me. "I was just-"

"I'm not blaming you, Commander," she sighs and turns her head towards me. "I know my daughter has a habit of causing trouble."

He does a double take, one I've seen often when the men on base have realised they've attempted to chat up the General's daughter. Although none have admittedly been as successful as him. "Daughter?"

Mom just gives a slight shake of her head as she sighs, as if she hadn't expected anything else. "Commander Dameron meet-"

"Hope Solo," I say shaking his limp hand, he's stunned as I meet his eye and for just a moment I see the faintest flicker of recognition amongst the pure mortification. "General's daughter."

"Unfortunately for my sanity," Mom remarks and shakes her head at me as Brance rushes into the hanger to meet her only to go unignored as she asks "Did you seriously try to drag my newest commander into an x-wing race?"

Brance looks between the commander and I at those words and suddenly seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he marches back out of the hanger as quickly as he came. Again, Mom looks as if she hadn't expected anything else.

"Maybe," I admit as Poe scratches his head, clearly more than a little blindsided. She looks at my x-wing, mechanically literate enough to realise the parts I've put in aren't cheap or legal and I try to smile and exploit the big eyes that seem to work on everyone else but her. "Miss me?"

She raises her eyebrows in warning and I quickly shut up.

"Commander, considering you've already become acquainted with my daughter you can be gracious enough to escort her to intelligence where she will hand over the information she has on the First Order outpost she destroyed before Snap could gather data on it," she says, barely reigning in her frustration with me but it's the disappointment in her voice that stings. "Then you'll meet me in my office, Hope."

"Yes General," we both say in unison and she shakes her head as walks past out of the hanger, leaving the commander and I standing there in shared awkwardness. While I feel guilty he's purely mortified, and I actually feel slightly bad now.

It's silent until he breaks it. "I'd say you were trying to set me up if she wasn't so happy to see you."

"Yeah," I say, his sarcasm being nothing but truthful. "Won't lie, I was hoping for a warmer welcome back but it could have been worse."

He looks at me now with his own eyebrows raised, standing there in a state of barely constrained panic. "It could have been worse? Worse for you you mean?"

I look at him in surprise. "A flyboy who actually cares what his commanding officers think of him, how rare."

"When my commanding officers are war heroes, yeah I care," he says defensively, incredulous that I don't share that sentiment. The tension between us is just as thick as it was moments ago but different now.

"Well commander, you'll come to learn your heroes are quite human," I assure him, knowing how every person on base reveres my mother, which is fair as she deserves every bit of it, but their reverence for Luke and my father is less justifiable. "Legends are often disappointing."

If I'm the last hope for my family then I'm only proof of that.

He looks at me now how they all do when I don't live up to the expectations they have of their heroes, little do they know their own heroes don't even live up to them.

But my own reputation? Well I can certainly live up to that.

He takes me in more carefully now, with equal caution and curiosity, but also with the slightest bit of wonder in his eye as he says "So, you're Hope Solo."

"That's me," I say, shrugging my shoulders despite knowing the weight my name carries. "Am I missing some grand reputation I'm meant to be living up to?"

From the way he stammers I know I am and it usually falls into two categories, a Jedi or a political scandal. My reputation as a pilot clearly isn't as prominent as I'd like it to be despite my stint as a racer.

"Well," he begins and I can tell he's not quite sure what to make of me. "I- you aren't what I expected."

I'm intrigued now as I take him in, sensing nerves beneath that cocky exterior. "And what did you expect?"

I don't miss the way his eyes skim over me and so I return the favour, somehow still quite liking what I see despite his fleeting defensiveness. "Well-" he coughs to try to cover himself. "Not you."

That's an answer I don't quite mind and I laugh under my breath. "Acceptable."

"So," he continues, keeping a respectable distance from me as we continue through the base, suddenly taking a very different approach towards me now he knows I'm the General's daughter. A fact that inevitably scares off anyone who looks at me how he did, although I can't quite say anyone has, not like that at least. "How did the General's daughter end up rogue in the Outer Rims?"

"That's quite the story," I say, realising what I did must have stayed classified outside of high command. "And not a pretty one."

"Alright," he says, he doesn't push but asks "So what did you do here before that?"

That's the question.

"Well I'm the General's daughter," I say, repeating what everyone else does with some embellishments. "Best damn pilot here, but considering I prefer blasters to negotiating they tend to keep me out of the loop."

He raises an eyebrow, a glint of almost childlike excitement in his eye as he asks "Not a lightsaber?"

And there's that one final legacy that Luke left me when he went into exile, that of the last Jedi. When the news of the temple's destruction broke they all looked to the supposed sole survivor for answers, but some looked at me as a suspect. The Jedi Killers grandaughter being the only survivor of a fire that killed all of the Jedi... that's one other legacy I've been left with.

But he only looks at me with an awestruck curiosity, not too dissimilar to how I'd look at Luke and the other students before I'd started my training, back when the Jedi were still mysterious to me. I can't quite remember anyone looking at me that way however, not until now. 

"Oh I've got my lightsaber but I've been frequently reminded that it isn't a good look for the Resistance to use it for combat," I explain as we walk through the hanger towards intelligence, not quite sure why I'm still speaking to him when I'm about to get torn to shreds by my own mother but he's listening and perhaps I don't mind the sound of his voice. "And then there's the fact we aren't meant to engage the enemy first."

"That's a big one," he says keeping his tone light, playful even, but I can feel a mutual frustration there. "Something tells me that's part of it?"

"I might have gotten a bit carried away once or twice," I admit, something tells me with an ego like his he has as well, but not to the severity I did. "But there's nothing like practice."

He meets me in the middle there. "As frustrating as it is not being able to engage the Resistance is better when it comes to action than the Navy, I can promise you that."

"Yes but be warned commander, a little too much action and you'll get yourself grounded," I say with a bitter edge to my voice. "I would know."

"Too much action or insubordination?" he asks in amusement and if his face wasn't enough to take a liking to him that's sealed it. 

"Well there's no point committing insubordination if there's no action," I remark and he laughs, something tells me he's no stranger to it either.

"I like the way you think but I'm glad I'm not your commander."

"I prefer to work alone so rest assured you won't have to deal with me," I say as we reach intelligence but something in his eyes tempts me against my better judgement, strikes a boldness in me I had never quite realised was there until now. "Unless you want to?"

But as expected he's suddenly hesitant. It's typically seen as disrespectful to even look at your superior's daughter that way and well no one wants to disrespect the general, but it's a little late for him to pretend like he wasn't quite interested just a few minutes ago.

He quickly becomes nervous, trying to laugh it off before not so subtly changing the subject. "So uh- I guess I will be then if you're going to be flying?"

"I will be," I state as he clams up, putting on his friendliest face and the gives me an awkward thumbs up of all things before guiding me inside the command centre. Usually I wouldn't care, usually I'd laugh when I'd watch them suddenly clam up, but it seems this one's left an impression, for better or for worse. 

Brance stands there as we enter the room and hesitates at the sight of us. "The General said you had some reconnaissance data about First Order patrols?" he swallows and I can't recall what I did to make him like this, but he's in charge of intelligence. He knows exactly what I've been doing. "Around Tatooine I presume?"

There's judgment in his voice upon mentioning Tatooine, but Brance's judgment's only a fraction of what I'm about to get from Mom. 

"Well, I don't exactly have it," I say looking at R2 but he's hardly been collecting any. "I saw an outpost and I blew it up, twenty four tie's in total including the ones this commander saw me take down, three squadrons, not much else to say." I turn to the commander now, since these patrols should be his area of jurisdiction, but mostly because I don't like to walk away without the last word. "But if you'd like a report on all the First Order outposts I've cleared in the outer rims you can come and find me."

Poe stops and blinks at me in slight alarm. "Cleared?"

"Cleared," I confirm and leave him to put together what I mean as I dismiss myself with a sly smile. "Commander." I nod my head to Brance who's turned pale. "Major."

Both their eyes follow me as I leave the room, forcing myself to keep a straight face as I willingly send myself to the interrogation chamber.

~

The encounter still plays on my mind as I wait to speak with Mom, it's almost a welcome distraction from what's waiting for me. But it's hard not to dwell when it's left a bitter taste in my mouth. 

I'd once joked to Lando that no one would be brave enough to take a chance on me with who my family is, little did I know then just how true it would be, and that was before the entire galaxy found out I'm the heir of Darth Vader himself. In the public's eyes Mom was never a Jedi, she as far as they know can't wield the force. They could throw every accusation of treason and conspiracy against her but that, the claims of being a danger to society because of our blood was reserved for me and Luke and Ben. 

Not to mention I've become the sister of a pretender. 

But he's not the one accused of being the Jedi Killer, how can he be when much like Anakin Skywalker the galaxy believes he died with the rest of the Jedi. Like Luke he left me to bear those accusations alone. To carry this name that's only gotten heavier with each passing day. 

But for a moment I liked being a mystery, and I liked it even more when he still looked at me with awe instead of apprehension after learning my name. Poe Dameron. I hate to say it but unlike the other flyboys that come through here I actually like this one.

Wait.

"Are you fucking serious," I whisper under my breath in irony into the empty space of Mom's office and remember where I've heard his name.

It was just days before everything went to hell. I'd travelled to Theron to be with Dad after I'd gotten myself expelled from university after a rather dramatic display that I'm still quite proud of. Lando and I sat watching the Five Saber's races when a man had caught my attention in the stands below, or if memory serves me the force had drawn my attention to him. Not that it would have mattered to Lando, all Lando saw was his niece staring at some guy.

"Oh no, now I know for a fact pretty boy down there's too old for you," Lando had laughed.

I'd just reminded him about how much older Dad was than Mom when they met and he laughed with me while trying to hush me. I don't know how the conversation had descended into what it had, with me expressing to him my juvenile worries no one would ever want to take a chance on me with who I was. Perhaps now I don't care about something as silly as love, I've experienced enough of it to know how it ends, but back then I did, what sixteen year old doesn't? He tried to ease my worries, giving me the sort of pep talk only an uncle can give, Mom had echoed similar statements not long after but Lando's words stuck with me over the years.

I'd thought that had been the end of it until I'd sat in the cantina as Lando went to the bar and I watched the same man introduce himself. Growing up with war heroes for parents, especially Han Solo, I was never a stranger to having aspiring pilots wanting to meet their heroes and so I'd watched from a distance as they spoke, happily out of sight.

"General Calrissian," Poe Dameron had said shaking his hand. "It's an honour."

"General?" I heard Lando repeat in amusement. "No one's called me that in a long time."

"You fought with my parents on Endor," he'd said and I'd been slightly more interested.

"Wait don't tell me, I know that face," Lando had said and laughed in realisation. "You're Kes and Shara's boy aren't you?"

He'd given his name "Poe Dameron."

I'd recognised his parents names, particularly his mother's since she'd defended Naboo during Operation Cinder. More than anything I just remember being confused by the strange nagging I felt, almost as if I knew him, or rather that I would know him. It seems my intuition was correct.

All things considered, that day is something I'd all but forgotten about until now and it leaves me unsettled. Nothing good ever comes when the force starts throwing these coincidences at me, or rather as it seems wrapping up loose ends. There was more to the conversation I struggle to recall, conversations about the navy and whatnot, but I do remember them talking about his mother. 

As an aspiring pilot I'd taken an interest in the women who flew such as her and Hera Syndulla. Dad would often feign offence when I'd beg Mom to be able to come with her to meetings with General Syndulla since they'd had a friendly rivalry back in the day. Although Hera never abandoned her kid despite him being force sensitive so I know who I like more. Wherever he is I'm sure he's glad he was grown up by the time Luke began taking students, with Ben's age group having been the oldest ones he trained. The youngest however... that still pains me to think about. 

I'd disappeared before Lando could introduce us, so at least some of my anonymity remains intact. While I'm vaguely familiar with him, all he knows of me would be reputation and that's how I prefer to be known. 

Although the force isn't finished with me yet, the lingering tension from the last time I sat in this office still remains, bringing back other more uncomfortable memories.

"What do you mean I'm grounded!" I raged at her after coming back from what I thought was a successful mission. "I did everything you asked me to-"

"I sent you to run reconnaissance not to engage!" she yelled, as beside herself with anger as I'd ever seen her. "Instead you used the force to interrogate an officer and not just that, you engaged an entire squadron of stormtroopers with a lightsaber-"

"And I took them out!" I reminded her, proud of my accomplishment even if she was horrified, or at least proud in the moment. 

"And potentially started a war!" she snapped and slammed her hand down on the table. "What is the one rule I ask you to follow, the only damn rule that matters!"

Still I didn't care. "How are we meant to stop them if we can't fight them-"

"We stop them through these missions you think are pointless, through collecting data and using it to secure whatever funding we can get from the very few allies we have in the senate," she tried to make me understand and she grit out "Hope, we do not have the numbers or the facilities to enter into a war. The Rebellion was thousands strong, we have less than a hundred and the Resistance cannot afford to lose the only Jedi we have because she decided to go rogue and take matters into her own hands with the very weapon that should never be used for such violence."

Those words rubbed me the wrong way "So that's my role, the one symbolic Jedi. Not a pilot, not a fighter, not even your daughter-"

"Don't go there," she warned, the mother-daughter relationship we'd finally forged during the scandal with Vader having worn away with every disagreement over strategy. "I am speaking to you as your general, not your mother, and it's time you learned the difference. Which is why you aren't just stripped of your rank, you are grounded until you can pull your head in and not endanger this entire resistance on a whim. You tortured a man Hope." The way she looked at me made me sick. "You used the force to torture a man like-" she cut herself off but we both knew damn well who she was comparing me to. "For someone who can see the past you sure as hell don't know how to learn from it."

"He mentioned Ben," I ground out and she couldn't meet my eye. "He's calling himself Kylo Ren and has made himself the First Order's enforcer. Did you think I was going to let that officer go without finding out everything I could about what my brothers been doing!"

"I'm more concerned about what you've done," she said, terribly pale. "Saving those children at whatever cost, that I could excuse, that I would have even promoted you for. But the carnage you left behind and giving the First Order grounds to attack us I can't excuse. Using the force for that- as the last person with any authority to tell you how the force should be used... I am disgusted Hope."

But not as disgusted as I was at what I'd seen. "He was dragging children screaming from their homes-"

"And what intelligence did you torture out of him?" she asks me and that's when I clamped my mouth shut. "You could have asked where they were to be taken, how many, where their battalion is stationed, but no. You weren't just reckless you were selfish. If you were going to take your anger out regardless you could have given us something useful instead of chasing after Snoke. Tell me how did you rationalise the thought that a low ranking officer would know where either of them are?" I opened my mouth but she cut me off sharply. "Every single member of high command across all of our stations has petitioned for your demotion and an official court martial which has never happened before in the entirety of this organisation. They want you not just grounded permanently but banned from any Resistance operations and frankly I agree."

I gaped at her, betrayed. Command could believe whatever they wanted, but this was my own mother. "You think I'm dangerous?"

"I think you have been nothing but angry and spiteful these past years," she confessed to me as I stood there with tears burning in my eyes. "I understand you went through something horrific, I understand why you're acting out, but right now I can't trust that-"

"I won't end up like Ben?" She still couldn't meet my eye and I felt more betrayed by her in that moment than I ever did when I discovered the truth about Vader. "You think I'm like him?" But I knew there was something else. "No, you don't think I'm like Ben. You think I'm like him. Your father."

There was a bite to her voice. "Don't call him my father and don't you dare think for even a moment I would believe you could become what he did."

"Then why?" I whispered, tears of anger wetting my cheeks. "Why don't you trust me?"

"Because as of this moment you are too unstable to be trusted with important missions, or any mission for that matter," she said carefully, but the words hurt just as much. "I can't protect you from the law if you decide to let darkness take control, which is why you have to work where I can keep an eye on you. I want you to go to Hosnian Prime to work with the few allies we have left in the senate, Varish will look after you. You spent years being educated for a career in politics and I gave you your title so you could take my place in the senate. If I can't trust you in the field then that is your assignment."

I shook my head. "No." She was leaning over her desk, head hung in distress. "If you won't let me fight then I'm not staying here."

"Hope," she argued. "Please for once in your life think before storming out."

"I have," I said. "If you don't trust me then I'm going to find the one person who does." She looked up in fear, and I knew what she assumed. "Not him, Dad."

She sighed. "Honey, your father-"

"Is out there," I said, tired of failing to live up to her expectations. "And if I'm too much like him for you, or any other man in this damn family, then I'm going to find him!"

I'd stormed out with hot tears running down my cheeks, now I sit here cold as she enters the room and sits down across from me without a word, neither of us knowing what to say until I break the silence.

"Am I being court-martialed?"

"No," she answers shortly, her voice difficult to read.

"Lando convinced me to come home," I say, unable to calm the defensive tone in my voice. "I was hoping for a warmer welcome considering the speech he gave about how much you've missed me, how worried you've been."

"I was worried," she says, struggling to hold back her frustration. "I was worried sick that you were hurt or out of your mind but no, I find you the same as ever going off to race x-wings whilst I've been in the core worlds doing the job I'd asked you to do." I just shake my head to try to fight off the guilt and look away until she relents and asks "Did you find Han?"

"No, but Lando will keep looking," I answer stiffly and get to business. "He said you had a mission for me."

She nods, but if I thought she was going to let the past be the past I was wrong. "We will get to that, but now enough time has passed I hope we can speak honestly now about what happened so let me begin by saying what you did horrified me Hope. My barely nineteen year old daughter torturing an enemy officer and committing a massacre beyond what was necessary to protect those children. Even after they were off the planet you went back to finish the job to ensure there was no one living to testify to what you did. You committed a war crime, several I might add."

Against my better judgement I retort. "Legally it's not a war crime if we aren't technically at war."

She shakes her head, having not expected any different. "A cold war is still a war and it's only getting worse."

"Which is why-"

"Why you've been hunting the First Order for sport?" she finishes and I'm glad Snap gave me a warning. "Commander Dameron told me all about your encounter before you decided to come back and try to- what- what the hell were you even doing?"

I put it simply. "Trying to prove a point."

She just sighs and puts her head in her hands. "Hope you've been back five minutes and you're already giving me a headache."

"You asked me to come back," I remind her, wishing I'd stayed gone. "Sent Lando to beg me to come back-"

"Yes because you're my daughter and I love you despite how infuriatingly stupid you've been," she says bluntly and pure anger suddenly fills her eyes. "Working for Boba Fett?"

Shit.

Despite my panic I hold my ground. "He pays well."

"He pays well?" she repeats. "I should think so considering the money he got from giving your father over to Jabba the Hutt."

"Well that's his own fault for making shitty deals and not following through," I say, knowing well enough by now how it works. "You say I don't learn from the past but he's the one repeating it."

"And you should be smarter than to get into the same mess for the sake of spiting him," she lectures. "Because that's why you did it in the first place isn't it? To spite your father and when he didn't come back to drag you off Tatooine you decided to take the credits and take your anger out on tie fighters."

I remain unremorseful. "Would you rather me use a lightsaber?"

I'd almost forgotten that like myself, she gives as good as she gets but it's a comparison that doesn't phase me anymore. "Like Vader did?"

"I was once told Anakin Skywalker was a war criminal," I say, remembering that history lesson on the Clone Wars after years of Luke making our grandfather out to be the ultimate hero in Ben's eyes. "It only seems right I continue his legacy."

She does not like that answer. "Alright then I was wrong, you haven't matured enough to take on this mission."

She gets up to leave and I relent "Wait, Mom." She looks at me expectantly and we've been through this enough times I know what she wants to hear. "I'm sorry."

She still waits. "For?"

"For being a smartass about committing a war crime, no matter how justified it was, and running away for a year," I say and watch her inhale deeply to keep herself calm. "And for being a smartass now."

She sits back down and leans back in her chair. "A year Hope. I would have thought being gone that long running around the Outer Rims would have matured you at least slightly."

I actually scoff. "You really thought that after being married to Dad?"

"For one single minute can you not be a smartass," she pleads and raises her index finger. "Just one."

I wisely keep my mouth shut and nod, knowing it won't last.

"Long enough has passed I believe I can convince command you've grown up and have seen the error of your mistakes," she begins, moving to negotiations. "Now we both know that's a load of crap but if you want to get back in the field they need to believe it. I might be the General but there is only so much I can do to help you because I can't be seen giving my daughter or any member of this Resistance special treatment. While you've been gone I've done my best to try to rebuild your reputation for the day you inevitably came back, most of the base believes you've been studying politics on Naboo and completing your education."

I scoff in offence and suddenly it all makes sense why a commander would see someone pull off what I did and never even think of my name. "That's the best lie you could come up with, that I willingly went back to university after they expelled me for arguing with that old Imperial bitch?"

"Yes," she states and my frustration only grows, that I'm only known as the spoiled princess sent off to Naboo instead of what I've worked hard to become.

"So you discredit the fact I'm the best pilot in the Resistance so everyone believes I'm just some spoiled princess playing politics at some prissy university to the point your shiny new flyboy can't even realise who I must be and thinks he's actually better than I am?" Her eyebrows shoot up at that remark. "That's your solution to rebuilding my reputation? By utterly falsifying it and discrediting the one thing I've worked hard to be." I stick a finger into my chest as I grit out "I started flying when I was a child, I begged and pleaded to join the starfighter corps when I was just twelve years old and have spent my entire life working damn hard to be the pilot that I am. It's bad enough everyone just dismisses me as being Han Solo's daughter when I'm a better pilot than he ever was, but for no one to even recognise me as a pilot and just think I'm off prancing around Naboo-" I have to cut myself short. "How could you do that?"

She sees I'm genuinely hurt but remains firm in her decision. "How do you think they'd take it if I said you were running around with pirates and hunting the First Order on some mad vendetta?" 

"They'd think I was actually doing something worthwhile," I say and she blinks at me incredulously. "You might think I've been acting like an idiot but I've been smart about it."

She's unimpressed and bites back. "Words right out of your father's mouth."

"I made sure even if people pieced together I was the one in that starfighter they couldn't do anything about it because I was being legally contracted to defend a system from an unwelcome force, hell I had an invitation to the bounty hunters guild that I didn't accept because I knew it would be a bad look for the Resistance and for you. But I've been damn good at what I've been doing and I'm not going to apologise for it."

"Congratulations," she deadpans. "In trying to piss off your father you've become him, running away from your family for the thrill of making credits and blowing things up."

That finally shuts me up, Vader I can take being compared to, but not him. Not when I know she looks at me and sees him more than anyone else. She suddenly looks remorseful and reaches for my hand.

"Hope, you are my daughter and I love you more than you could ever know," she says and I wasn't prepared for those words, looking away as I force back tears. "But you need to realise your actions have consequences, if your father's situation isn't evidence of that I don't know what is. Luck inevitably runs out."

"It hasn't for you."

Her eyes are sad. "It ran out a long time ago, but yours hasn't. Not yet." I don't expect the ache when she reaches for my face and forcing back tears has not felt this hard in a long time. "You've grown up."

"Yeah well, that happens," I say curtly and she withdraws her hand. "I know you think I ran off like Dad did but you didn't give me a choice."

"You had a choice and you made it," she says gently, the love in her voice only making it worse. "But now I need you to own up to it and make better ones."

"If you want me to be ashamed of what I've done and apologise for it I won't," I say and finally she listens. "I did make my choices, and don't think I wouldn't make them again."

"Alright," she says upon seeing this won't go the way she wants. "Do you want to hear the truth?"

Believing there's nothing left she could say to hurt me I shrug. "Shoot."

"I never believed it when I was told the Skywalker blood ran strong in you, but I should have. When Sola and my mother's handmaidens told me you reminded them of my father I didn't listen. When Luke warned me dark things would come of your training I should have listened but I didn't and you were nearly killed as a consequence."

"Mom-" I immediately whisper at her blaming herself.

"I knew something was wrong between you and Ben, I knew something was wrong with him, but I sent you back to Ossus with him regardless," she says as if Ben gave her a choice in the matter. He'd taken me as his apprentice, and his eyes his authority overuled our own mother's. "Days later everything was gone. Ben, Luke, eventually Han. Everything was lost in that fire except for you." Her voice breaks. "I have tried in every way I know how to help you Hope, but you aren't helping me. It is a fact that you share many similarities with your grandfather, more than Ben ever did. Everyone who's ever lived to know both of you has said as much. I am aware of the darkness that's clung to you ever since you discovered what he became and I want to help you Hope, but I need you to let me."

My throat's tight. I've always shrugged off the comparisons, but they've never come so strongly from my own mother, the one person in the galaxy who has the most cause to despise him. Yet in my travels I've only found more people who've confirmed what I've tried to deny for years. "So that's why you can't stand me, because I take after him?"

She shakes her head in disbelief that that's the conclusion I'd come to, voice incredulous as she whispers "No, Hope that's not what I'm trying to tell you."

"Do you have any idea how long I spent trying to live up to you?" I ask her, remembering now just why I ran. "Trying to live up to a perfect hero but no matter how hard I try I'm told time and time again that I'm my father's daughter, or worse that I take after Anakin Skywalker. Never you, never Padmé Amidala, only ever them." Frustrated tears burn in my eyes that she truly can't fathom. "I don't want to hear that, I don't want to live up to anyone's legacy. I've spent years training to make my own path, I've spent another year out there in the Outer Rims not even recognising myself in the mirror trying to make a name for myself just to have all these powerful people look at me and tell me I'm just like a man I never knew. Desperate for validation, living up to a self-imposed prophecy, the one to restore balance and save us all only to lead the slaughter. Or worse that I'm like the father who abandoned me."

She quickly becomes unnerved at the cynical laughter that escapes me along with the tears. "Hope-"

"I don't want that, I just want my family but I can't have that," I say with a barely contained primordial rage burning in me. "All because of a voice in Ben's head." She's deadly quiet as I finally look her in the eye. "So if killing stormtroopers is as close as I can get to killing Snoke then that's what I'm going to do."

For the first time I sense a deep fear within her and she again reaches for my hand only for me to sharply pull it away. "I need you to listen to me."

"No!" I yell, a trembling mess as I slam my hand down on the desk. "I need you to listen to me when I say that if I can get my hands on Snoke I can end this! Or if I can just find Ben I know I could bring him back or convince him to turn on Snoke, but to do that I need to get my hands on these First Order officers and-"

"And you'll what, torture information out of them?"

The answer's simple in my mind. "Why not?"

"Because it's torture hope!" she yells. "For the love of-, you are not going to be torturing anyone for information. I know how much you loved your brother, I know how close you were and you are not the only one who wants him back." There's tears in both our eyes now. "But you are simply not prepared to take on Snoke."

"Luke took on the Emperor didn't he?" I retort. "He convinced Vader to turn on him and so will Ben. I know him better than you ever did Mom as much as you hate to hear that. I know he was screwed in the head and delusional, hell I know that better than you ever could and I have permanent scars to remind me of it every day!" There's nothing but pain in her eyes. "But everything he did was to protect me as twisted as it was and he would never let Snoke do to me what he's done to him. I know if I bring him back we will destroy Snoke."

She tries to steer me away from the subject, to de-escalate, to distract me from the spiral I'm heading down. "Someday yes, but for now I need you focused on proving to the senate what the First Order is truly doing so we can prepare. I promise you the day will come when you can use your saber but until then we need to build up the Resistance before starting a war we can't win and you are only one person. We need the support of the New Republic and the senate-"

"When are you going to realise we need to damn what the senate says and go after them ourselves?" I exclaim and it's then I fess up. "Do you have any idea how many of those bastards I've killed before they could gain a foothold in the Outer Rims?" Her face turns to stone. "How many outposts I've destroyed-"

"I don't want to know," she says hoarsely. "I don't want to know how many people you've killed or how many outposts you've blown up. I just want you to do what I'm asking you to do."

"What are you so afraid of?" I ask her at a complete loss. "I am capable-"

"You are too capable and you know it which makes you dangerous," she states factually and years worth of anger finally comes out. "You think you're smarter than everyone else in the room, but you're not. You think you are better and that you know better but you don't and it's past time you heard it. You don't do what is asked of you, you either go too far or disobey. You have always been all or nothing Hope. You run away for a year and now come back asking for me to trust you but I can't. You're impulsive and rash and not in the way we need. You don't think before acting and still refuse to do what is asked of you. You always have and I had hoped you could be mature enough to sit down so we could both apologise and move forward so I could give you this very important mission but no, you're too defensive and too defiant to even listen to me without interpreting me trying to get through to you as an attack!" Her voice breaks and for one of the very few times in my life I see tears running down her face. Three times I've seen it, but never solely because of me. "I love you, but I cannot trust you when you're like this."

Her words hurt, they're true, but they still hurt.

No, they don't just hurt, they tear me apart and I've never craved to be back in my bedroom on Hosnian Prime so badly. Back when I was still a child, back when I was still young enough if I cried I knew someone would come to comfort me, whether it was her or Dad, or most often Ben. Back before everything went to hell, and I can't stop the tears from coming now.

She goes to take my hand again but I pull it away, shaking my head as I stumble back out of my chair away from her, my flight response taking over. "Hope!" she calls out as I head for the door. "Wait-"

I'm already out the door and halfway to the hanger when I slam into Poe Dameron as I round a corner, he catches my arm and goes to ask if I'm alright but I pull it free, not stopping to make conversation as I rush to find R2 so we can leave.

For good this time. 

[pandorafallz]

Overseer AU | Cracked refections

“<Ugh…. I hate this.>”

Not the last of her many complaints that Grace had in the last six hours since she had woken up from this…coma. Didn’t feel like a coma and…well she assumed it wasn’t; it took far longer to wake up and she had far better cognition than anticipated. Two of those hours had been a well-earned nap after a small puddle of food that…Grace had very little interest in eating but she had forced herself through it; Greene had been clear to get her strength back she needed energy and thus, food. More strength, less need of a random nurse or helpers.

Grace didn’t want help. She knew she needed it given she couldn’t properly walk past a few steps holding something but…she wanted this bit over and done with. She felt so…old to have a woman or someone help her with everything. From the bathroom, and a wash to even getting in and out of her new wheelchair. She hated it with a severe passion.

She wasn’t stupid to know why her body was so weak.

The mirror ahead of her only seemed to verify how crap she truly was physically and it made her skin crawl a little how…it felt like this morning was the last time she had seen herself so filled out and healthy as opposed to this.

Her facial bones were never more pronounced than now. Her jawline looked sharp, even her cheekbones protruded a little against the pale, white skin. Her hair hung down limply down just at her breasts now than at her neck, her hospital gown was…baggy. She dreaded to see what she looked like underneath given how thinned out her arms and legs were. She has certainly dropped a few sizes.

Dr Greene had said she had been given good physical care in the last two years, somehow Parker was generous to shell out on an actual care plan for her so she was better than expected. Daily joint PT exercises to prevent her joints from locking up or deteriorating with disuse, muscle stimulants in both drug and electrical pads to slow down muscle tone loss, decay and atrophy; similar to the types used for the avatars so the bodies weren’t useless after birth and gel padding to prevent bedsores.

Still, with all that care, she still lost a lot of weight and could barely walk. Her nice layer of body fat was gone so her wheelchair was uncomfortable to sit in, no matter how many cushions they got on…and she was cold now. All the time.

“<I want…to link up with my avatar now.>” Grace grumbled, begrudgingly pulling the blankets around her tighter now. Her throat felt better for sure but talking was still a bitch. Still, some painkillers she had been given helped relieve some of the discomfort.

“<Not yet. You’ll need to start basic exercises first which will be physically taxing. Your body can rest in the link after that.>” Dr Greene spoke, not looking up from the datapad she was reading from. “<You’ll get three hours of link time at a single time until you’re stronger>”

“<Define stronger?>”

“<Able to get yourself out of the link bed without help>”

Grace gave her a look but… well she had asked for that. “<Ugh>” Her expression only worsened as the Physical therapist made her way into her room like the angel of dread with a toolkit of torture.

“<Ten minutes>”

Ten minutes of fucking hell.

-

Grace was proven correct in such a statement. After another snack, she was relieved to be cleared for the link bed and finallywheeled away, feeling like she had been beaten to an inch of her life. Her gown was changed to loose joggers and a shirt long-sleeve.

“Grace!”

Her head turned to see Max Patel look like a happy puppy, though the flex of grey in his hair wasn’t unmissed as he hurried towards them. “Dr Greene…” his words began a blur of sounds.

“<He says he’s happy to see you’re up and looking alive>” Greene translated. “<He also says that your link bed is prepped and the new avatar drivers are in the new longhouse going over some new hobbies that all drivers need before any venturing out into the forests.>”

Max continued to speak.

“<He’s also put together a report for you to read on what’s happened since you’ve been…out of action.>”

“<Okay. I’ll give it a read. Thank fucking god I can still read English>” It wasn’t easy, her eyes hurt after a while and she got a headache but again, that was probably something she had to deal with. Eywa only knew what happened to her brain when she was otherwise a vegetable. “<Link time, now?” She urged.

“<Alright.>”

Grace returned Max’s smile though he led them towards the third link bed and parked her up next to it. With her tired muscles, she pushed herself up, Greene and Max’s hands at her side, making her bite her lip from snapping but Max only helped as far as getting her seated and moved back before Grace wiggled into the spot, the gel around her nice and warm.

“<You put the warmer setting on?>”

“<Yep. You’ll need it>”

Grace snorted once, tugging down the first frame before Greene shut the top one.

-

Grace fumbled as she shoved on her new change of clothes onto her too-small avatar.  The only upside being was that the new set of avatar clothes seemed to have been remade and expanded upon since this morning. Short and a blue crop-top laid out though Grace opted to forgo shoes entirely out of spite. Again, her smaller statue meant she couldn’t fit into standard female avatar shoes and…. she had other things to do than waste her hours of freedom here getting her foot measured then to simply grow out of them in a few months’ time.

Dr Greene was talking to Dr Curfman when she finally emerged from the long house although the latter twiddled a basketball in her hands looking very chipper.

“<Dr Augustine, I’m happy to see you up. How has everything been?>” Curfman spoke.

“<Shit, confusing and I’m behind on everything>” Grace answered unhappily, “<What’s the plan? A full debrief?>”

“<We’re going to the new long house for that.>” Curfman spoke, though happily led the way from the steps,

Although, it wasn’t far as Grace could see. Smaller than the Longhouse devoted to offline avatars but it was far more open with a huge table where there where five avatars were seated. On top of the table, upon closer inspection, was filled with piles of small twine, woven fabrics, half-made straps and so many variants of beads of different shapes and colours. There was also booklets also dotted about.

“<What’s this? A craft fair?>” Grace turned her attention back to Curfman.

“<No.>” The woman smiled softly but gestured to a seat. “<It’s… complicated but a required skill for the avatars to learn before they set out into the jungle.>”

“<Why?>” Grace looked down to see two of the avatars. Dr Daniel Choi talked to Dr Madaki about what sounded like the behavioural studies of Helicoradian and Woodsprites and where the differences between plants and animals were as they put together items made of beads. She didn’t interrupt the two’s discussion.

Greene took a seat at the table, though saved off Curfman from speaking with a far more serious expression. “<After that…happened at the school, the Omatikaya became more…hostile to the RDA and Avatars. Eytukan spoke to me direct that….they would kill any lost avatar or human they came across.>”

Grace looked to the doctor in alarm. “<Kill?>”

“<Yes. So…we figured that…if we made similar clothes and carried them, if lost we can change and do our best to pass as a wandering Na’vi.>” Greene winced as she spoke, “<Not all clans know much about Avatars so… if there’s a chance to pass and survive. We will take it. But… you will need to make them yourself as well; a learnt skill can help retain the image and…to flesh out a backstory.>”

There were a lot of holes in that, and the distinct, brightly coloured sign of cultural appropriation tied in as well. But… logically, it was sound for trying to live low in the unknown territory to survive. Given what…happened to her, the risks were real. She couldn’t fault their desire not to wind up like her. It sucked.

“<Start with the loincloth then your chest coverings.>” Curfman encouraged, looking to be busy with the latter than the former of her suggestions. “<The booklet has some ideas you can draw from but we can’t copy everything>”

Grace hummed, acknowledging her suggestion. “<You have a backstory?>” She slid into a seat, reaching for the purple fabric which…felt nice then reached for the knife to start cutting it.

“<Yes, We’ve come to the collective agreement that we come from a clan called The Tsumongwi Clan. Nomadic in nature. Specialising in exploration than hunting but lost a huge number due to the Sky people's attack that led to the scattering of the clan. If anyone asks about the avatar’s difference, we can claim interbreed with ‘Dreamwalkers’ and Na’vi. It’d give reason for us knowing English and sky people technology.>” Greene spoke.

Grace considered the story for a moment though couldn’t deny that…it had definitely plausibility but…it would only work for those, not of Omatikaya. They knew too much but…she could see that working for other clans. Especially if the clans were already uncertain about avatars.

“<You have a Na’vi name?>,” Grace asked curiously. “<Mine is Kìreysì.>”

“<Yes, Kìmi Te Rìkean Petani'ite.>

“<You talking Na’vi names?>” the head of the new avatar turned, “<Sounds interesting>”

“<Who are you?” Grace frowned at the new guy, trying to recall when they were getting new people…. It still felt years away from what anyone was due.

“<Oh, I’m Norm Spellman.>”

“<Norm, I’ve heard good things about you.>” The name was oddly refreshing in her memory. She had read his file about his accomplishments probably a day ago-no, a day before the shooting. . “<You speak well but you’re…very formal.”

The avatar’s ears flicked a little but his face was still bright, even as he rumbled with his beads, “<There is…a lot to learn, even if I have studied for five years.”

“<Indeed.>”

The man who looked in a worse state with the beads and string spoke next though Grace’s eyes slid to Norm to translate.

“<I can’t understand English. I thought Tom Sully was fluent in Na’vi as well?>”

Sully looked at her sharply, ears flattening back at hearing his name being pulled into the conversation..

“<Er…Sorry, this is Jake Sully. Tom Sully died a week before he was meant to leave.>” Norm spoke, sparing a nervous look to his fellow driver. “<As a twin, Jake’s able to link with Tom’s avatar.>”

Grace’s eyes narrowed to the man in question. Jake. Not Tom. Explained…well everything. His lack of langue to…even craft skills. If this kid got lost then he was certainly going to die.

“<Get him started learning Na’vi and….some basic Pandora understanding. His ignorant will…piss me off.>” She dismissed Sully to get back to the cloth. She could only assume that this all was Quaritch’s idea; roping some random, untrained guy into her group for…whatever nonsense he had cooked up against the Na’vi. She couldn’t give much of a damn right now with…her other fucking priorities.

-

Kim watched as Grace worked her way through with both speed and skill to fashion together a formidable purple loincloth that…looked good. Now she was well done with her chest pieces She had no idea what Grace even had the skill to do so without looking at the sheets they had.

Madaki eventually left after an hour to unlink and Choi looked to be weaving together what looked to be a few neckpieces.

“<You’ll need to get haircuts.>” Grace announced after a moment.

Kim looked up from the bracelet she had been crafting. “<Haircuts?>”

“<The hair is a dead giveaway to the Na’vi that we’re different. Omatikaya will know instantly. You’ll need to remove excess hair from the tswin and rebraid it. Shave the sides or entirely rebraid from your face but it’s important. Avatar have a very distinct look like this.>” She tugged on the back of her hair that was still part of the braid.

“<We can work on that tomorrow when you’re linked up.>” Kim spoke because…she really didn’t want to get into that debate right now and get stuck in when Grace didn’t have the time for that.

“<Also, songcords. Every Na’vi has one.>” Grace’s tone got a little grouchier, as she finished up the last touches to her chest covering and pressed it to her chest to make sure everything was covered correctly.

Kim knew a little about song cords but hadn’t invested in it. It was…such a small thing to think about.

“<Songcords?>,” Norm asked this time. “<They’re…important, aren’t they?”

“<It’s… one of the most personal and important artefacts of a Na’vi person. If it’s missing, then that’ll strike a Na’vi as off.>” Grace started reaching for the smallest of twine and gestured for the beads. “<Na’vi don’t have a written langue so it’s all oral. Songs and stories. Songcords tell elements of a person’s life; the important part or events that the induvial wants to mark. A birth, a death, a celebration… it can be of anything of personal value. Marked by beads. Verses are by the knots down to the next. Mother offers thanks for Eywa in the verses for their children.>”

Grace leant forwards and picked out five first. A grey round bead that looked like Polyphemus. A blue triangular bead with a streak of red. A cyan, off-round bead with flecks of orange. A brown and Amber Square. Then a black one.

Kim eyed the last one with a growing hunch as to what it would mean 

 “<Shouldn’t…it be something we need to think about if it’s…so important?>” Norm asked, surprised as she laid the bead out in order.

“<I did. My arrival, my first avatar, the people, my school, my first death>” Grace pointed to them out with a strong tone of confidence. Kim sighed softly but… she could see the meaning and the poetics based upon the colors alonebehind this. Celebration, life and death. Something that…was meaningful to Grace. 

Kim wondered what she could put. So many beads…so many options.

Grace reached into another put, pulling out two purple amethyst, elongated beads, a smaller black bead and one small, white off-triangle bead with flecks of blue and purple that seemed to be the last to put on. Nine beads.

She must have put thought into this a long time prior to her avatar’s death to be so…decisive.

“<We’ll get people kitted out with their own cords, Dr Augustine.>” Joyce Curfman assured.

“<Good. Make it mean something>” Grace insisted, “<now, someone start filling me in on what’s been going on for the last two years. Any contact between us and the Na’vi and what to expect. I want to start getting out as soon as I’m…able.”

-

Eytukan watched, feeling somewhat helpless as Neytiri tried another round of needle and breath techniques to draw out any negative air from Mo’at’s body to revive her but… nothing was working.

Mo’at lay pale and motionless on her mat while breathing easily; there was no other response. No sound or even his touch would rouse her from this unnatural sleep. He knew Neytiri would need support but even he could see this was more than just a physical ailment. Mo’at herself would know how to treat such a condition if it was spiritual as well.

“<Should we risk taking her back to the tree? Reconnect her with Eywa?>” Eytukan spoke, interrupting the silence.

“<Is that not what caused this?>” Tsu’tey spoke carefully, standing back for Neytiri to be unhindered but keeping too many from getting closer.

The concern the people had over the Tsahìk was not missed; they needed her and some had been injured since last night but most superficial and tended to but some would eventually require Mo’at’s more skilled hands to tend to. But now was no time for all hands to care when they knew little of what had transpired.

The connection between Tsahìk and Eywa was a close one and… one that Neytiri was yet to complete. Eytkan worried Neytiri did not know how to treat this and so…he had to make a decision.

“It is possible but… we do not know enough. A cure could be worth the risk but… I cannot be sure.” Neytiri spoke, her hands coming to turn her mother’s body onto her side. Eytukan dropped down to assist. “I…I need a Tsahìk’s hands to guide me.”

Eytukan’s fingers stroked down his’s make warm cheek, assured only by her soft breath.

“Tsu’tey, take your Ikran with a few warriors and go to the Tipani Clan and ask if they have a remedy for this condition that they can pass on to you.” He did not want to rob another clan of their Tsahìk. “If not, then go straight to the Tawkami Clan. They are our closest clans that may be of willing assistance.”

“<Of course, Olo'eyktan. It will take a few days to cover such distances quickly.>”

Eytkan nodded. The Ikran would do their best but they would need time to recover from the trips for their personal needs. Pa’li were more enduring but would take longer in transit and he did not want Mo’at’s health to hang in the balance and waste in such a time.

With a call for his warriors, Tsu’tey left before Eytukan turned his focus back to Mo’at. Gently shifting Mo’at to her back and upright, as Neytiri lifted a ceramic cup in one hand and gently tilted her head back to a light angle that could not trigger Mo’at to choke on the fluid. He gently wiped her mouth though Neytiri set the ceramic cup down shakily.

“<I’m sorry, Father. I…I wish I knew more.>”

“<You are still a tsakarem. There is much to be learned and this will serve as a lesson. I have faith in Eywa and the other Tsahìk’s that they will know how to cure this condition>” Eytukan spoke. “<We must be prepared to move her if they cannot pass on a cure to Tsu’tey. I will need to go with her so you and Tsu’tey must stay in our absence.”

He may be Olo'eyktan but he had lost one of his daughters; he would not lose his mate to this and certainly not alone if the Great Mother was insistent on claiming her. Whatever this was. He would be there as her mate. Tsu’tey was still learning but he had faith in Tsu’tey that he would be well for taking up his position for a small part of a few days.

------

lol, Grace's Na'vi name still isn't fully decided, even for those who have taken part in the polls i made to narrow the options down.

I removed 'Kiri' as an option and stuck to the K's on a first-name basis. Let me know which of these three you like!

[thatbostonbooknerd]

Rose Gold

Chapter Three: Cassius

When he approaches the cockpit the pilot’s chair swivels round to reveal the petite woman with the cherry blossom hair, one leg gracefully crossed over the other in a pose that seems far too regal for the silk robe she still wears. 

“Hello there,” Cassius says, panting as he stops with one hand braced along the bulkhead. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen that variation of a pilot’s uniform before.”  

Ilithyia’s face is a mask he cannot read, eyes flicking up and down his figure. “How very boring for you,” she says, her accent Ionian. 

He eyes the seat beside her, trying not to think of all the times he and Lysander and Pytha sat in these very places. It doesn’t hurt the way leaving the Society did, leaving who he was as an Olympic Knight; it certainly doesn’t come close to burying his family after the Jackal’s purge. But still, the thought is a raw wound, and seeing her take their place doesn't help. 

The three of them had carved out a life on the fringes of space. It was a meager life, one that required him to push aside the memories of the man he had been, all he had expected from his life. But in a way, that's why it hurts - his friends had quieted the pain of memory ever so slightly, his only source of happiness these last ten years. Now it seems the gods have snatched even that from him. 

What would Darrow think of what he's become? Brother, then enemy, and brother again, for only a flicker of a moment. Cassius had fought for one world, Darrow for another. Brothers or not, Darrow might see this life as a retribution for the sins of the past, and Cassius isn't sure he would disagree. Not that it makes the hurt any easier to bear. 

And as always, the thought of Darrow invites her. He sees her as she appeared the night of the Summit, when they seemed to have everything. It always comes back to that night, not because of the duel, but because of her. Like trying to catch a firefly, and watching it dart away at the last second. 

He doesn't like to think of her seeing him now, much less what she would say of it. When he had loved her, he was the favorite son of the Bellona, a beloved uncle and brother, the Morning Knight only a few years past earning his scar. He likes to believe that's how Virginia remembers him, even if he knows better. 

But now, he must focus on the present moment, as he has done these past ten years. That much is familiar to him by now. It's so much easier to bury the past when you're focusing on living. And right now, he needs to find out whether this strange woman intends for him to continue living or not. 

After all, there's no shortage of enemies who would like to peel him apart bit by bit. A scenario best avoided, if he can manage that. The Morning Knight, at the mercy of a Pink - beautiful and fragile, but that won't keep him breathing if she's planning to deliver him to one of his enemies for a sizable reward. 

He assesses her carefully as he speaks. “Who are you? More importantly, who do you work for?” He asks. She’s turned back to the controls, and to his surprise, she seems to know what she’s doing. 

“Work for?” 

“Who sent you? Mercs? Pirates? The Ash Lord? A private contractor, someone who wants my head on a platter?” 

She sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The rest of it is pulled back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. “My goodman, you are a happy accident; you may be valuable, but you’re not that valuable.” As she speaks, the Ionian accent melts away to a softer, Agean one. 

“Then who are you?” 

“Sit down, before you dislodge your stitches.” She toggles the controls, checking their trajectory. “I don’t much relish the idea of playing nursemaid any longer than absolutely necessary.” 

He sits with a grimace of pain, and surveys the woman - Ilithyia, he reminds himself - properly for the first time. Silky cherry blossom hair, delicate jawline and high cheekbones, full lips, wide eyes, and a figure to distract the best of men. Her playing nursemaid might not be such a bad thing. Sounds like something that would’ve featured in his teenage—

“Stop that,” she says sharply, glancing up from the controls. 

“What?” 

“You know very well what.” 

They lapse into silence for another moment, and he considers her. “You’re not much like the Pinks I’ve met,” he remarks. 

“That’s because you can’t afford me.” 

A hint of a smile tugs at her lips. He scowls, runs a hand through his golden curls to push them out of his eyes. Cassius isn’t used to people laughing at him, and he finds he doesn’t like it. “Maybe not now. I used to be the heir of the Bellona, I can assure you I’ve met plenty of—”

“Still couldn’t afford me. And I haven’t been for sale in a very, very long time.” 

He understands. “You’re with the Rising.” 

“The Republic,” she corrects him. Finally, she turns to face him once more, her features softening. “Now, I don’t suppose you know where the food is on this ship? I’m starving and we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”